THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 GIFT OF 
 P. Lennox Tierney
 
 EXETER HALL 
 
 By WM. MCDONNELL, Esq. 
 
 is 
 
 TENTH EDITION. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 COLBY AND RICH, PUBLISHERS, 
 
 COB. BOSWOBTH AND PROVINCE STS. 
 
 1885.
 
 ENTERED, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1869, by 
 THOMAS BROWN, 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern District 
 
 OK
 
 ps 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT 
 
 TO SECOND EDITION. 
 
 ON the publication of the first edition of EXETER HALL, the author had 
 some grave misgivings as to the success of the work. Not that he was influ 
 ence^ considerable as his outlay had been, by any pecuniary sentiment; 
 for the book was written without the slightest reference to worldly gain of 
 fame: but what he feared was, that, through the opposition of the churches 
 and certain influential portions of the press, he should be prevented from 
 obtaining a general and candid hearing. This opposition, and much of an 
 acrimonious private character, he has encountered, and overcome through 
 the support afforded him by a few independent journals, and the countenance 
 of many fearless friends and readers. Hence the appearance of the present 
 edition, and the existence of the lively hope, that another and yet another 
 shall give further evidence of the liberal tendencies of the age, and the growing 
 desire of the human family to free themselves from the degrading superstitions 
 which have so long embarrassed the world, retarded the progress of true civili 
 zation, and set man at enmity with his neighbor. 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 LINDSAY, Ontario, Canada, November, 1870. 
 
 937-153
 
 EXETEE HALL. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 EXETER HALL is a very large building situ 
 ated near the Strand, one of the principal 
 streets of London. It has accommodation for 
 over four thousand persons, and it is the great 
 Protestant forum and centre of attraction for 
 all those who anxiously desire the spread of 
 the Gospel, the dissemination of Christianity, 
 and the evangelization of the world. It is 
 also the head-quarters and grand rallying-point 
 of those armies of prelates, preachers, pro 
 fessors, missionaries, and other devoted men 
 who, from time to time, assert a renunciation 
 of the world, its pomps and vanities ; many of 
 whom, taking their lives in their hand, as 
 eager to suffer in the glorious cause, sever 
 social and domestic ties, and leave home and 
 country, to spread in distant lands and over 
 the dark places of the earth " the unsearch 
 able riches " among the millions yet destitute, 
 of the degraded and perishing sons and 
 daughters of Adam. 
 
 Exeter Hall has a fame. Since its erection, 
 about 1831, no other place in the world has 
 attracted such crowds of social renovators, 
 in >ral philosophers, philanthropists, and Chris 
 tians. Of late years, almost every great mea 
 sure for the amelioration of the condition of 
 the human family has here had its inception, 
 its progress, and its triumph. Surrounded as 
 it is by theatres, Shakespearean temples de 
 voted to the drama, or, as many of the reli 
 gious world assert, to profane, vicious, and un- 
 g'"Uy purposes, Exeter Hall alone has the 
 proud distinction of being the great theatre 
 f >r the concentration of Protestant Christian- 
 it v. From this great stand-point, the wisdom, 
 intelligence, and power of whole nations have 
 been brought to bear against usages, systems, 
 and laws antatronistic to the pure faitli ; and 
 a remedy suggested and provided for the 
 moral and religious destitution of the world. 
 
 But not altogether are measures purely re- 
 
 !ligious enacted in this great building. Secu 
 lar schemes of practical benevolence, scarcely 
 second in importance to any other, are here 
 developed ; social and national reforms are 
 here patronized ; music, science, philosophy, 
 and literature are encouraged ; and personal, 
 
 national, and political wrongs feelingly d 
 picted ; and often some British Demosthenes 
 will here make a stirring appeal before a 
 thousand freemen in behalf of an oppressed 
 people or down-trodden country ; and then 
 there is a shout for human rights, and in that 
 shout, as is always the case, the voice of 
 Exeter Hall is heard over all the earth. 
 
 But it is in the genial month of May that 
 this great theatre displays its power, and ex 
 ercises its wonted energies. Like the season, 
 it seems invigorated ; there is an infusion of 
 new life for a fresh effort, and in that effort 
 lie the germs which, having been generously 
 moistened by national dew-drops of a peculiar 
 kind, are sure to mature into a bountiful har 
 vest. In May there is, as it were, a flowing 01 
 the nations of the world toward its great cap 
 ital ; and at that particular period the rusl. 
 through the Strand to the immense Hall w 
 wonderful, and its walls resound to the tramp 
 of people of every clime and tongue. Dele 
 gates and representatives from almost every 
 nation under heaven then assemble beneath 
 its roof. The language of every capital in 
 Europe is here spoken, and the utterances of 
 far distant tribes here recognized. The once 
 wild natives of Asia, Africa, America and the 
 South Sea Islands here meet in friendly coun 
 cil, and are touched and softened by words of 
 welcome in their native tongue. The chil 
 dren of the world meet and mingle, and lay 
 down their offerings in a common cause, and 
 glorious result ! mythical ideas of origin 
 and superiority are then forgotten, and nation 
 ality, the great idol of discord is, happily, for 
 the time, hurled from its desecrated pedestal, 
 and lies neglected or trampled in the dust. 
 
 The regular anniversary meetings of Exe 
 ter Hall are looked forward to with great 
 interest by the religious world. Protest aiv.s 
 of all denominations hail the approach of 
 these periods with the most agreeable anticipft- 
 tion. A spirit of emulation is engendered ; 
 and each particular church or society makes 
 a strong endeavor to win pious fame on the 
 great platform where the representatives of so 
 many creeds annually fraternize, and who on 
 the occasion tacitly cease doctrinal bickerings, 
 in order to exhibit to the skeptic and scoffer 
 an exemplary assiduity in the common cause. 
 For months before this stated period the moat
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 energetic efforts are made to accumulate a 
 eum sufficient to correspond with the presum 
 ed wealth and influence of each respective 
 denomination. In this connection what is 
 called a " laudable rivalry" is encouraged, 
 and graduated honors are in due time 
 awarded on the credit side of the published 
 accounts. There are some, alas! who in 
 religious as well as in secular affairs, cling to 
 the idea that the most money ought to have 
 the most merit, and persons moat liberal in 
 endowments are generally awarded the high 
 est place. 
 
 To obtain *e large an amount as possible, 
 the most thorough and ingenious methods, 
 have been devised. Sunday-school children 
 are lectured to importune for missionary 
 pence, and to reserve their own petty accu 
 mulations of the most humble produce of 
 the mmr, for the " missionary box ;" and sel 
 dom indeed will either painted toy or tempt 
 ing candy induce the juvenile collector to 
 withdraw the little donation from its place of 
 deposit. The money is looked upon as be 
 longing to the treasury of the Lord; and if 
 the infant Protestant mind should happen to 
 tolerate a little superstition in this respect, no 
 objection has yet been offered. A public re 
 cognition of such services by children is high 
 ly satisfactory to religious parents, and is nat 
 urally found' to be a powerful stimulus to 
 entice and actuate younger disciples. 
 
 Then, again, there are " Young Men's Asso 
 ciations," and therein persons are appointed 
 to perambulate certain places and localities 
 for help for the heathen haunts and purlieus 
 where it would not be always safe and never 
 proper for respectable religious females to be 
 seen. 
 
 Thus the dissipated and abandoned are 
 often besought, and, strange to say, are often 
 donors to this great fund. It may be that at 
 stated periods many recklessly rushing to sin 
 and shame feel a degree of satisfaction in 
 being solicited, as if the solicitation and the 
 gift were still proofs, though ever so weak, 
 that the poor dissipated wanderer was not as 
 yet disowned by society, or considered as 
 hopelessly sunk among the outcast and de 
 graded. 
 
 Matrons have also an allotted task. Mature 
 members of wealthy mercantile companies, 
 ancient annuitants, gray-headed state pension 
 ers, and musty officials are sought and 
 softened by importunate appeals which will 
 take no denial ; and the flinty man, wrapped 
 up in freezing dignity, is generally unfolded, 
 even to prove to himself that, mummy-like 
 as he may appear to others, " a heart still 
 throbs within his leathern breast," and that 
 its pulsations are yet human. 
 
 Stewards, deacons, lay-preachers, and min 
 isters have a peculiar field of labor, and are 
 often more successful with wealthy or well-to- 
 do-widows, and comfortable spinsters of an un 
 certain age, than other persons. The pleading, 
 however, of ministers with all classes has a 
 drawing effect ; but as their d uties are too mul 
 tifarious, their visits for such purposes are ne 
 cessarily circumscribed. The potency of a 
 minister's influence is more particularly in a 
 general and pathetic appeal to a congregation, 
 
 or in private whispers at the bedside of the 
 man who has walked the earth for the last 
 time, and who, previous to settling his last ac 
 count, is earnestly reminded of his final and 
 most important duty of " honoring the Lord 
 with his substance" it would not be needed 
 in the grave. 
 
 But by far the most invincible and success 
 ful collectors are the young and beautiful fe 
 male members of the church. Such persons 
 are classified as the "young lady collectors," 
 and they prove themselves to be by all cdds 
 the most daring and triumphant, in this re 
 spect it has been asserted that one young lady 
 is equal to thirteen and a half gentlemen ; 
 and pecuniary results have justly entitled the 
 adolescent of the softer sex to this proportion 
 ate superiority. In collecting tours, the young 
 ladies generally go in pairs, the more attract 
 ive and accomplished the better. As the duty 
 is readily undertaken, every suitable place is 
 visited with the most unflinching determina 
 tion. Shopkeepers, office-clerks, young busi 
 ness-men, and men of fashion the grave and 
 the gay, the great and the humble, and a'l 
 classes within reach that may with propriety 
 be called on, are made to yield to solicitations 
 which in nine cases out of ten are irresistible ; 
 and if figures are facts, the returns ever prove 
 that young lady collectors are far in advance 
 of all others in this particular line of pious 
 usefulness. The rocky, sordid hearts that can 
 not be softened by apostolic prayers or sighs 
 seem to melt and bubble up beneath the mis 
 sionary fervor of youth and beauty. 
 
 Thus it is, that by a peculiar and systematic 
 organization almost evory individual connect 
 ed with a church or religious society, from the 
 mere child to the man or woman with gray 
 hairs, may be made an active agent for the 
 collection of small sums for missionary or 
 other religious purposes, and which sums in 
 the aggregate annually swell to an immense 
 amount ; and thus it is that without ostenta- 
 tation or an apparent effort the greater por 
 tion of the. annual princely revenue of the 
 British and Foreign Bible Society is obtained 
 from the people by a mild but determined en 
 forcement of the "voluntary principle.' 1 
 
 The orthodox Englishman is proud of 
 Exeter Hall. In the rustic church or great 
 cathedral he had heard of the wonderful suc 
 cess of the primitive apostles, and had been 
 instructed in the mystic doctrines of Christian 
 ity, ami told of its superiority over more an 
 cient Pa-jan creeds. While the Bible had 
 been held up as the great mirror of truth, he 
 had been cautioned against various modern 
 interpretations of the " unlearned," leading to 
 false doctrine, heresy, and schism ; and in the 
 sanctuary, while often bewildered by contra 
 dictory tenets, or led into a maze of doubt and 
 theological speculation by seeming contradic 
 tory texts, in Exeter Hall he seldom or never 
 heard a conflicting opinion. In this place, the 
 history, the contests, the persecution, and the 
 triumphs of Christianity were mapped out be 
 fore his mind in interesting recitals. There 
 he had heard of the adventures of primitive 
 Christians in their endeavors to propagate the 
 " truth " in the midst of powerful and impe 
 rial heathenism ; and had been told how au-
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 gust potentates became enraged at the pious 
 innovation, and at the disrespect shown to the 
 gods ; how the great Koman empire thunder 
 ed forth its denunciations in fierce and bloody 
 persecutions under Nero, Doinitian, Trajan, 
 Marcus Aurelius, and others clothed with the 
 imperial purple, down to the reputed conver 
 eion of <, 'onstantine. Here he had heard of 
 the fierce contests between the rival bishops 
 of the Eastern and Western, or Greek and Ko 
 man Churches, and of the final establishment 
 of the " man of sin ;" how God's so-called 
 "vicegerent" in the fullness of his power 
 crushed with unfeeling heart all who dared 
 to dispute his spiritual dictation ; how in the 
 pride of his assumed and terrible preeminence, 
 the simple minded, unoffending, and defense 
 less Waldenses and Albigenses were hunted 
 like wild beasts from their humble homes, and 
 mutilated and slaughtered by the bloody 
 Montfort ; how, more than a century later, 
 the valleys of Piedmont were again deluged 
 with the blood of these poor people by the 
 brutal Oppede. It was in this place that his 
 eyes were suffused with tears when m connec 
 tion with the foregoing narrations, he first 
 heard, amid the deep silence of a multitude, 
 the solemn but beautiful verses of the great 
 Milton : 
 
 "Avenge, O Lord ! thy slaughtered saints whose 
 
 bones 
 
 Lie scattered on the Alpine mountains cold. 
 Even them who kept thy faith so pure of old, 
 When all our fathers worshiped stocks and stones, 
 Forget not ; in thy book record their groans 
 Who were thy sheep and in their ancient fold 
 Slain by the bloody Piedmontese that rolled 
 Mother with infant down the rocks. Their moans 
 The vales redoubled to the hiils, and they 
 To Heaven. Their martyred blood and ashes sow 
 O'er all the Italian fields, where still doth sway 
 The tripled tyrant ; that from these may grow 
 A hundred-fold, who having learned thy way 
 Early may fly the Babylonian woe." 
 
 Then when some fervid speaker, after having 
 recited these verses, would close his remarks 
 with an indignant denunciation of such cruel 
 ty, the pent-up feeling of the multitude 
 would become liberated and significantly 
 audible. 
 
 In Exeter Hall the Englishman had heard 
 of the Inquisition ; of its depths, its dun 
 geons, its terrors, its cruelties, and its victims. 
 Here, ton, he had heard of the great massacre 
 of St. Bartholomew, and had warnings, time 
 after time, against the treachery and intrigue 
 and cruelty of Papal Koine. Here he was 
 told of the struggles of the Reformation, and 
 of its heroes, princely and reverend, who 
 stood out against the imperious mandates of 
 the great ecclesiastical tyrant ; and as fact 
 after fact was adduced to prove that that 
 great convulsion, the violent upheaving of 
 an ancient despotism, was designed by Provi 
 dence for the freedom of the human mind, 
 he felt that Britain his own loved land had 
 acted no secondary part in reducing and 
 humbling the towering pretensions of so ter 
 rible an enemy. 
 
 Many other religious historical facts were 
 there brought to his notice ; and although 
 the subsequent acts of many of the Protest 
 ant reformers were, alas ! of a fearful and 
 diabolical character, no mention was ever 
 made of that iniquity, nor of the unholy 
 
 secrets of that more modern inquisition the 
 Protestant Star Chamber. A blush of shame 
 was spared, and the fraternal partiality of 
 Exeter Hall very wisely and prudently threw 
 the mantle of oblivion over all. 
 
 These tracings of a particular history, first 
 permanently impressed on his memory in such 
 a place, and under peculiar existing circum 
 stances, associated with the warm applause 
 awarded, to strong and passionate assertions 
 in favor of freedom of speech, liberty of con 
 science, liberty of the press, and of liberty 
 itself, and all identifying his native country 
 as the progenitor of such ideas, may well lead 
 the impulsive Englishman to revere forever 
 the name of Exeter Hall. 
 
 Thus it is that at the immense meetings of 
 this distinguished forum, that monster organ 
 ization, the British and Foreign Bible Soci 
 ety, the great evangelical giant of Christen 
 dom is again nourished and recuperated ; and 
 thus its prodigious arms are again strength 
 ened and stretched out, overshadowing deserts, 
 oceans, islands, and continents, and only meet 
 ing to inclose within its vast embrace the 
 whole unconverted world. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE wild March winds had passed away, 
 having spent their fury over distant moor, 
 bleak heath, and through trembling, naked 
 trees. Broken, pendent branches, and piles of 
 drifted, withered leaves in wall angles and 
 hedge corners were remaining proofs of the 
 rough season that had followed in the dreary 
 track of ten thousand others of the same kind. 
 The distant ocean was again calm, albeit that 
 there might still remain on its grand surface 
 terrible mementoes of some feari'ul struggle 
 between the daring skill of impetuous man 
 and the s ill more wild and impetuous waves, 
 now again wearied and slumbering in the still 
 ness of immensity. The earth, too, was calm 
 and beautiful. The glorious day-dawn that 
 was dreamingly stealing from out of the night- 
 shadow looked like the timid virgin lulu of 
 a new planetary creation. A sun-gleam tipped 
 the distant tree-tops, now gently stirred by the 
 first breath of a new morn ; the lark in heav 
 en and the song of the rushing stream on 
 earth, were to the pausing and wondering 
 wayfaring man like whispers from a lon^-lost 
 paradise. 
 
 As it was, Hampstead never looked more 
 like the original garden said to have been so 
 pleasing and delightful to our great progeni 
 tor. Every cottage seemed imbedded in sur 
 roundings of quiet loveliness, as its outline 
 became more fully developed in the new 
 dawn ; and every object, hill and vale, tower 
 and tree, rock and river, was adorned in the 
 soft, rosy light of the young day. 
 
 On a gentle slope, facing the great, dim me 
 tropolis beneath, stood Heath Cottage, an 
 unobtrusive object in the picture. It \vai 
 in the middle of a pleasant garden, around 
 the walls of which were a number of fine old 
 trees that, sentinel-like, had stood the blast
 
 6 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 of over a hundred winters. The house was a 
 modern structure ; there was nothing stylish 
 in its architecture ; it was a plainly built, com 
 fortable English homestead, and sufficiently 
 capacious for a family much larger than 
 that which had occupied it for many years. 
 There were shade trees and neat hedges by 
 the roadside, and in front there were smiling 
 flower-beds in which the crocus, hyacinth, and 
 tulip were already conspicuous. Shrubs and 
 plants and rose-trees were in profusion, and 
 curious little winding walks, with trim box 
 wood borders, invited you pleasingly onward 
 to a sun-dial, close to which there was a mini 
 ature fountain tossing up its little jet of 
 spray to welcome the sunbeams, and moisten 
 ing the moss-covered rock-work ris-ing out of 
 the graveled space before tae door-steps. 
 
 Ascending these steps the entrance was be 
 sieged by flower pots of various shapes and 
 sizes ; some perched on rustic stands, and look 
 ing as if determined to pop in from the eleva 
 tion through the side lights, and storm the 
 chattering and defiant bird cages which flank 
 ed the sun-lit passage. Ambitious young 
 vines were curiously peering through the 
 '.ntricate traceries around the bay windows at 
 each side of the door, and pendent stems of 
 ivy alternately tapped at the dormer panes that 
 looked out from the steep roof. 
 
 As you entered Heath Cottage, the hall was 
 ornamented, embellished, or incumbered with 
 quaint and incongruous articles. Besides cages 
 ;'ud canaries, there were pictures of London 
 in the olden time, engravirfgs of the flags 
 and gods of all nations ; the scene of an 
 " Auto da fe ;" of the massacre of St. Barthol 
 omew ; of a persecution of Jews by Chris 
 tians, and of Quakers by Puritans ; there 
 were pieces of armor, war clubs from the 
 Sandwich Islands, a boomerang from Austra 
 lia, an idol from Japan, relics from the wreck 
 of the Armada, and a few of the smaller instru 
 ments of torture from the British Star Cham 
 ber and Spanish Inquisition. Many of these 
 strange things were suggestive of ideas not 
 at all pleasing or honorable to humanity, nor 
 creditable to the religious toleration of a for 
 mer period ; and here now were hung, as 
 mere curiosities, some of those terrible aids to 
 faith which could afford to the student posi 
 tive illustrations of historic truth. There 
 were also a few specimens of mechanical or 
 engineering skill, such as the models of a 
 ship, a bridge the whole giving the place 
 A museum-lMce appearance. 
 
 The first door to the right led to a neat, well- 
 furnished parlor ; not one of the stately freez 
 ing looking places where chairs and tables 
 and mirrors and marble are muffled up in 
 musty dignity, only to be exposed and made 
 cheerful looking on great occasions. It was 
 an apartment for home use, and not alone for 
 the reception of occasional visitors. There 
 wa- no pretense about the place ; it was what 
 it looked a cottage parlor, and every tiling 
 in it was made subservient to the happiness 
 of home. As a proof of this, many pass 
 ing Heath Cottage might be seen treading 
 with slower pace in order to hear the fine 
 tones of the piano skillfully brought out ; or 
 oftener delayed to listen to soft voices mingled 
 
 in some beautiful duo, and accompanied by 
 that instrument. Indeed, many ardent lovert 
 of music had been heard to remark that it 
 was difficult at times to keep from loitering 
 near the cottage, or to pass it 'by and leave so 
 much liarmony behind you. Opposite the 
 parlor was a large apartment called the 
 family room, from which you entered a small 
 but well stocked library, connected with 
 which was a little room that looked out on a 
 patch of garden, and was well adapted for 
 writing or quiet study. 
 
 Behind the dwelling, there was a small 
 orchard and a summer-house covered with 
 grape vines ; and a space of greensward for 
 play -ground, along which you passed to the 
 sheds and stable. Taking it all in all, Heath 
 Cottage was just such a place as a person with 
 moderate means and limited desires might 
 find to be a pleasant retreat from ambitious 
 cares or the envy of the aspiring. Such it 
 had been for many years to its proprietor, 
 Martin Mannors, who now, on this fair, first 
 morning of April, was looking down with 
 beaming face from one of the dormer windows 
 into the garden. 
 
 " What ! Merry Pop, down before me ? Oh 1 
 I see ; you were determined to win, and I 
 suppose you got up before day." 
 
 " Indeed I did not, Pa ; I bet that I would 
 be down before you on the first of April, and 
 here I am, ready for the wager." 
 
 " Well, here it is," and out flew a pair of 
 lavender gloves from the window, falling at 
 the feet of Mary Mannors. 
 
 "Down, Flounce, down, sir!" but Flounce 
 would not stay. Away he gamboled with 
 the gloves in his mouth, over flower-beds and 
 bushes, until met at a corner by a delicate 
 looking boy, Mary's brother, who grasped 
 Flounce by the neck and rescued tha 
 gloves. 
 
 " Pop," said Mr. Mannors, " Flounce knowi 
 this is the first of April, and wants to make 
 an April fool of you." 
 
 " Pa, indeed you have pampered that saucy 
 dog too much ; but neither he nor you shall 
 make a fool of me to-day," replied the ex 
 cited girl, looking up at the window through 
 her beautiful brown, shining curls. 
 
 " Oh ! of course not. You're too wise, Pop, 
 to be caught with chaff not you." Mr. 
 Mannors then, apparently surprised, looked for 
 a moment at some object in front of the house, 
 and hastily cried, " Look, Will, look, Mary! 
 That surely is the identical April fool, if there 
 ever was one, standing at the garden gate. 
 Mary and her brother looked at once in thai 
 direction, but as the intervening trees prevent 
 ed any object from being clearly seen, away 
 Mary started, followed by her brother ; there 
 was a race for the gate, then there was a dead 
 halt, then a pause of doubt, and then a shout 
 of laughter from Mr. Mannors ; for instead of 
 there being but one April fool at the gate there 
 were actually two. 
 
 " Well, Martin," pettishly observed Mrs. 
 Mannors, who had by this time got to the win- 
 dow, " how silly 1 What an example of decep 
 tion to show the children! What value can 
 they place on your word ? You should be the 
 very last to deceive them with such an old
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 wife's fablo, or encourage them to think of such 
 stupid nonsense." 
 
 " Nonsense, did you say, Emma? Well, if 
 every fable that is taught for truth in this wise 
 and sanctimonious age, and believed in by old 
 er children, were as harmless, there would be 
 far more peace and good-will among men 
 and women too ay, far more happiness. But 
 1 must g.) down to the garden. You may tell 
 them to try and be serious. I will bid them 
 laugh and enjoy their cheerful impulses; I 
 know which will make them most happy in 
 tin; long run, at least in this world." 
 
 In another minute Martin Mannors stood 
 close to the little fountain; his cheery voice 
 rang through the garden like music, and 
 again he laughed aloud at the ruse he had so 
 successfully practiced. Mary and her brother 
 had returned, and once more the laugh was 
 general. Flounce, too, was springing about, 
 giving repeated barks of approbation as if he 
 knew all about it, and was delighted at the 
 performance. 
 
 There was no doubt as to the heartfelt plea 
 sure of the whole party, and he must have 
 been a cynic indeed who could have looked 
 upon the happy faces of that group and assert 
 that the cause of so much pleasure was a sin. 
 
 Even Mrs. Mannors, who now witnessed their 
 joyful meeting, and who had but just lectured 
 her husband upon his indiscretion, felt the 
 influence of their cheerful emotions ; and, to 
 appear consistent, she had to turn away quick 
 ly from the window to hide from father and 
 chidren the smile that was then shining on 
 her own face. 
 
 Martin Mannors, the proprietor of Heath 
 Cottage, was just past the middle age of life, 
 but healthy, hearty, and joyous. His actual 
 years might number fifty-seven, yet at first 
 view he looked scarcely beyond forty. He 
 was of medium height, squarely built, vigor 
 ous, and active ; he had a mild gray eye, and 
 a most benevolent expression of countenance. 
 " Time had not thinned his flowing hair," 
 neither had it as yet scarcely altered its color. 
 A few white hairs, like intruders, might have 
 been discovered screening themselves among 
 his brown locks ; but only a few, the scantiest 
 number of the harbingers of the still far-off 
 winter. He wore a manly beard, as nature 
 intended ; and if he had reached the summit 
 of life's hill, he now trod the declining way 
 as cheerfully and contentedly as he had made 
 the ascent. 
 
 He was a person not easily disconcerted or 
 annoyed about any thing. If an evil befell 
 him, his philosophy came to the rescue, and he 
 would say, " It might have been worse." Al 
 though comparatively indifferent about him 
 self, he felt most acutely for the wants or 
 afflictions of others ; these, he would say. were 
 the particular thorns that made his life most 
 unhappy ; and he always asserted that poverty 
 in the abstract was the curtain result of social 
 inj ustice ; and that crime, to a great extent, 
 was the consequence. He was fortunate, how 
 ever, in being placed beyond the contingencies 
 of want; as the recipient of a liberal annuity, 
 he was possessed of sufficient means to secure, 
 for himself and those depending on him a 
 great share of the good things of this life ; 
 
 besides, he had a vested interest in Heath Cot 
 tage, and being a person careful and prudent 
 in every expenditure, he was not at all likely 
 to suffer from pecuniary difficulties. Having 
 had the benefit of a good education, he was 
 still more fortunate, lie was a great reader, 
 and devoured the contents of books on almost 
 every ordinary subject with the greatest avid 
 ity. For him one side of a question was 
 never sufficient ; each proposition or idea was 
 mentally handled and scrutinized, and viewed 
 at every point before he came to a decision ; 
 and every assertion, or opinion, or theory, or 
 doctrine, no matter how trivial or profound, 
 how new or how old, how popular or con 
 demned, had to undergo its ordeal of investi 
 gation in his mind before he either accepted 
 or rejected it as truth or error. For truth he 
 seemed willing to make any sacrifice ; and 
 the boldness of his statements relative to 
 many of our most venerable and cherished 
 ideas often startled the timid doubter, and 
 many times engendered in the minds of some 
 stiff-necked worshippers of traditionary or 
 hereditary opinions a feeling of haughty 
 scorn or of actual enmity. 
 
 Apart from more abstruse subjects he had 
 a fine appreciation of music, painting, and 
 poetry ; in fact, he readily cultivated every 
 thing most refined and intellectual in art or 
 science, and his judgment in these matters 
 was considered sound and conclusive. Such 
 was Martin Mannors ; kind, humane, and just ; 
 a man of comprehensive mind and boldness of 
 thought ; one who never sought to obtrude 
 his opinions rudely, but who, sin^y and alone, 
 was ever ready to defend them before a thou 
 sand opponents. Far and around he \vaa 
 known and respected ; he was regarded by the 
 poor and unfortunate as a true, sympathizing 
 friend, and his name was a passport to the 
 hearts of toiling men. But though he was 
 idolized at home, and loved by many, being 
 intellectually in advance, and a " skeptic ' in 
 theology, as a consequence, he too had ma- 
 ligners and enemies. 
 
 Mrs. Mannors was, in many respects, as un 
 like her husband as it was possible to ima 
 gine. She was comely in person and kind in 
 disposition. She loved her husband and chil 
 dren and home ; and she had the reputation 
 of bein^ generous to the deserving, and chari 
 table to the poor, and was justly regarded as 
 a very exemplary person in most things. 
 But intellectually sh- fell far behind ; it was a 
 trouble for her to think. Ready-made ideas, 
 particu'arly if the emanations of some reve 
 rend Spurgeon or popular Boanerges of the 
 church militant, were by her readily adopted 
 and held sacred. She had a religious mania; 
 and the sanctuary was her gate to heaven, 
 and the home of her strongest affections. 
 Reason, she asserted, had particular and cir 
 cumscribed limits, and faith was the great 
 point upon which her fondest hopes /centred 
 and turned. 
 
 From her earlier years .she had been train 
 ed to regard the world as a vale of tears, and 
 to consider earthly things as of little con 
 sequence, and every moment of time spent 
 on earth as scarcely sufficient to secure the 
 promised enjoyments of E future state. Peri-
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 odically, however, she was a busy bustling 
 woman iu ordinary affairs, but generally an 
 enthusiast in religion ; so mucli so, that she 
 very otten seemed to forget or ueglect some 
 of the duties of life, and to resign many of 
 the pleasures of earth for the purpose of se 
 curing the inconceivable happiness of hea 
 ven. 
 
 To this end she became a strict Methodist ; 
 she joined the church, attended class-meet- 
 i tgs ; she would quote and lecture aud pray 
 l:i church and at home, in season and out of 
 K-^ason, and found frequent opportunities to 
 beseech some ungodly friend or acquaintance 
 " to tiee from the wrath to come." She was a 
 collector of funds for churches, missionaries, 
 ]iiblc-s, tracts, and tea-meetings; and next to 
 herself she considered her husband as the 
 "chief of sinners," and running blindly to his 
 own destruction. She had cautioned and ad 
 monished him time after time, but, alas ! so 
 far without effect ; he could not perceive his 
 
 only his companion but his preceptress ; and 
 under her tender tuition he often made greater 
 progress than by the direction of the best mas 
 ter. His father was most incl ulgent ; and when 
 the spring days grew warm ami fine, he and 
 Mary and William, and always, Flounce would 
 ramble for miles away ov r sunny hills and 
 through green meadows ; and, when tired, 
 would sit by some clear stream to hear its 
 murmurs as it wandered along on its way 
 through shadow and sunshine. Ah me ! these 
 were pleasant rambles, pleasant to be remem 
 bered in long, long after years, and to be 
 hung like some fair picture in the memory. 
 
 As for Mr. Mannors, he had not for many 
 years attended a place of worship. He had 
 made a study of theology ; and, having pierced 
 its very depths, seemed to have discovered 
 something unsightly and then to have reject 
 ed its principles forever. Mrs. Mannors there 
 fore felt it the greater necessity to be punctual 
 herself, and a stronger adherent to the faith ; 
 
 danger ; on the contrary, he told her he was but it was not always that she could secure 
 happy enough, he knew nothing of the sin- j the attendance of her children. Mary, as if 
 fulness of sin, and often after she had dis- by intuition, seemed able to comprehend the 
 coursed to him in her must serious and tear- motive which too often actuated others. In 
 ful m ,od, he would laugh at the terrors *iiich ! her own quiet way she was a close observer, 
 
 she had portrayed for his edification. 
 
 Asa matter of duty she tried to impress on 
 the minds of her children the value of relig 
 ion and the worthlessness of the world. Be 
 sides leading them to the sanctuary, she had 
 their memory crowded with catechetical ques 
 tions and answers, and with a multitude of 
 
 and she used to remark that a hundred at 
 tended church as a fashionable pastime for 
 every one that went to pray. She, like her 
 father, did not object to have her acts and mo 
 tives fully understood. She did not care to be 
 the slave of a popular mania, or to follow in 
 the footsteps of a gayly dressed hypocritical 
 
 texts and pious verses. She had done her j multitude as a matter of policy ; neither did 
 duty in this respect, and there was no inter- she heed the censure of the self-righteous or 
 ferenee on the part of her husband ; but, alas ! the uncharitable insinuations of church-going 
 
 all her well meant efforts were undesignedly 
 counteracted. 
 
 Mary Mannors, now in her seventeenth year, 
 was, like her father, naturally hopeful and joy 
 ous. She was of medium size, and had beau 
 tiful brown hair that hung in tresses around 
 
 adherents. When she bowed her head, it was 
 Iromthe impulse of the heart ; and often when 
 she had been obliged to conform to the pre 
 vailing mode of frivolous worship, reason 
 gave its silent rebuke, and then she would 
 wish to be with loved ones at home ; or away, 
 
 her graceful neck. Her eye was a clear mild j wandering through green lanes or on plea- 
 blue, and her face singularly pleasing and at- sant mossy banks, or by some gentle stream, 
 tractive. Her education had ffot been neglect- | clear and pure as her own thoughts, 
 ed, and her mind was stored with a fair share j On bright Sabbath mornings, if William 
 of general knowledge. She had a fine voice, pleaded indisposition, another ramble was 
 and coujd sing and play with the most ex- sure to be the remedy ; this was always sug- 
 quisite taste and feeling. Her manner was gested in preference to a driver-confinement 
 quite unaffected; and now, as she was just in church being urged as injurious and 
 budding into womanhood, her maidenly at- there surely could be no impropriety in steal- 
 tractions were increased by a most affectionate ing quietly away to the pure air on the hills. 
 and confiding disposition, and she looked and j On such occasions it was useless for poor Mrs. 
 (Spoke and acted with an honest boldness that Mannors to oppose. She might an'd she did of- 
 ujade her almost irresistible. She was an es- ten murmur her disapprobation that the Sab- 
 pecial favorite with her father, and was like bath services should be neglected ; but her 
 him in thought and disposition, and she con- kind motherly feelings could relax religious 
 Bidered him unequaled. Her brother \Vil- discipline, and many times as she gave her re- 
 liam, her junior by about four years, was con- luctaut consent, she would wistfully follow 
 etitutionally delicate. He was a slight, frail them with her eyes, as hand in hand they 
 
 boy, with a feminine cast of countenance. 
 His face was handsome, yet without the force 
 of expression, which made the contrast be 
 
 took their departure. 
 
 Mrs. Mannors had, however, one great com- 
 fort in the religious companionship of an old 
 
 tween him and his sister so great. In man- ; and faithful maid servant named Hannah ; a 
 per he was mild and affectionate, and was the creature simple minded, guileless, and confid- 
 idol of his mother, ^who evinced the greatest ' ing. Hannah had read and re-read the Bible, 
 anxiety on account of his health. Altogether I and ventured to profess that she understood it ; 
 he was a tender plant, which required particu- aud alhough there were texts and passages in 
 lar care. j that book with regard to which she could form 
 
 Mary and he were almost inseparable, no intelligent or satisfactory conclusion, yet, 
 V? hen he could not attend school, she was not with her mistress, she would boldly assert
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 9 
 
 
 that the whole was plain and easily under 
 stood, and that the " wayfaring man, though a 
 fool, need not err therein." She, too, had read 
 with positive delight the Pilgrim's Progress. 
 That similitude, and the story of the trials 
 and temptations of poor Christian, had for 
 her a special attraction. She generally kept 
 this prized little volume within reach; it 
 seemed to be her chief study, and were she 
 asked to really choose between the Bible and 
 John Banyan's Pilgrim, in her heart of hearts 
 she would choose the latter. 
 
 Hannah almost worshiped her mistress ; 
 she was her ideal of perfection. She wonder 
 ed, at her patience and long-suffering ; she 
 wondered at the faith that could still bear her 
 up and lead her to hope for the conversion of 
 her husband and the rescue of her dear chil 
 dren. As for Mr. Mannors, she considered 
 him a fit subject for the united prayers of 
 God's people. He was, however, to her a kind 
 friend and master, and in all other things ex 
 cept his duty to God a fair and worthy exam 
 ple to men. But in his present state he was 
 a " barren fig-tree," unregenerate, and under 
 the curse of the law, as she believed that 
 every worshiper of our benighted reason 
 must be. 
 
 Maid and mistress were, however, toward 
 each other what the Scripture says " iron is to 
 iron." In fact it might be said that they had 
 their own way in matters secular as well as re- 
 ligous. They alone consulted about or regula 
 ted household affairs, as well as planned relig 
 ious tea-meetings or donation parties. They 
 concerted plans respecting missi >ns or Mag- 
 dalenes, and to bring the ' word" to her very 
 hearth-stone, at the suggestion of Hannah 
 Mrs. Mannors had decided that her house 
 should be the head quarters for the next ju 
 nior preacher appointed to the Hampstead cir 
 cuit. This suggestion was looked upon as 
 an interposition in answer to prayer ; for, 
 thought Airs. Mannors, " as neither my prayers 
 nor any thing 1 can say seem to have any ef 
 fect upon my husband, perhaps the Lord might 
 reach his heart through the lips of one of his 
 chosen servants." 
 
 It therefore might be said that Mrs. Man 
 ners was religiously afflicted. Siie morbidly 
 fancied that the love of her children, the 
 many comforts of home, the brig it sunshine, 
 the 8:>iig of birds or the odor of flowers, 
 were like snares ready to draw her aside from 
 the narrow and thorny way in which she fan 
 cied a Christian should travel. Yet as a mor 
 tal she felt the " unholy attraction" of these 
 things ; and in the c mtest between her human 
 feelings and her faith, she had often to bewail 
 the coldne^s of her spiritual love, and the fligh 
 ty, flickering light, of her endurance. This 
 condition was often aggravated by the follow 
 ing favorite texts : " He that loveth father 
 or mother more than me is not worthy of me, 
 and he that loveth sou or daughter more 
 than me is not worthy of me." Matt. 10 : 87. 
 "If any man come to me and hate not his fath 
 er and mother, and wife and children, and 
 brothers and sisters, yea his own life also, he 
 can not be my disciple." Livke 14 : 26. These 
 texts and others of similar import were the 
 cause of sore trials to Mrs. Maimors. There 
 
 was often and often, even when it was least 
 expected, a sullen strife between the teachings 
 of the word and the impulses of her nature, 
 and it led her through much tribulation. But 
 did not the saints glory in tribulations ? Here 
 was comfort. Alas ! alas ! how little did she yet 
 know of afflictions. If "tribulation worketh 
 patience," what comfort would it bring to her 
 were she to lose her gentle, delicate son ! 
 Dreadful thought ! Or her Mr. joyous daugh 
 ter ? and oh sorrow of sorrows were she 
 called upon to part forever with her dear hus 
 band, even though the spirit ot'God had strick 
 en the scales from his eyes and changed hia 
 heart ; even though he were snatched like a 
 brand from the burning, or raised forever 
 from out of the " horrible pit and miry clay !" 
 What would this avail her in that hour of 
 dread tribulation, were she left to behold 
 those dear eyes closed forever in death, and 
 to know with terrible certainty that the pul 
 sations of that tender, loving heart had for 
 ever ceased ? Even now the very thought of 
 these tribulations was fearful nature had 
 again its triumph and as a woman, wife, and 
 mother Mrs. Mannors buried her face in her 
 hands and wept. 
 
 Fortified as she was with numerous com 
 forting passages from the Bible, yet the 
 thought of such possible affliction was almost 
 overwhelming. In vain had she prayed for 
 strength. The thought of such a calamity 
 would recnr again and again, leaving her 
 greatly depressed ; and now, on this fair April 
 morning her mind was thus clouded. Her 
 husband had left her but a short time ; she 
 looked from her chamber upon the bright sky 
 and pleasant earth, and father and daughter 
 and son were still in the garden. Their laugh 
 ter had ceased, and the traditionary April fool 
 was again forgotten. They stood silently 
 hand in hand in the soft fresh radiance of the 
 spring morning, looking intently at some dis 
 tant object. Save the hum of the bee, or the 
 song of a bird, there was almost perfect still 
 ness ; even Flounce with drooping head dozed 
 quietly behind, as if spell-bound. 
 
 The view from the dormer window of Mrs. 
 Mannor's apartment was very fine. London 
 and its churches, its steeples, and its thousands 
 of habitations were seen in the mazy distance, 
 together w th the dim outlines of the Surrey 
 hills, and the silver Thames threading and 
 glittering on its winding way to the ocean. 
 Now, indeed, there was a change. A cloud or 
 pall of smoke which had settled during the 
 preceding night was completely spread over 
 the vast city beneath, hiding the distant hills 
 and burying the highest towers and steeples. 
 Like Gomorrah, the whole city seemed to have 
 been blotted out from the face of the earth ; 
 but there was one object yet visible and at 
 tractive. The morning sun had just risen 
 over the lost city, and had spread its beams far 
 and wide over its murky shroud. The great 
 gilt cross on the dome of St. Paul's alone tow 
 ered up to the sunlight, flashing and glittering 
 in the path of clear sky around it. As it thus 
 appeared, it was a peculiar object of beauty tc 
 the little group of spectators in the garden ; 
 but to Mrs. Mannors it was as a vision, working 
 on her feelings of awe and veneration. Tim
 
 10 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 bright cross was then to her like some apostol 
 ic representation, or like another Abraham 
 with outstretched arms silently pleading, " yet 
 again," for the doomed city and its denounced 
 inhabitants. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 IT is well known that the Rev. John Wes 
 ley, the celebrated founder pf that popular sys 
 tem of religion called " Methodism," was a 
 man <'f the most indomitable perseverance. 
 No person could have been better fitted for the 
 task which he had undertaken the reform of 
 the Established Church. 
 
 What Luther was to Catholicity, John Wes 
 ley was in a great measure t< > Protestantism ; 
 and the little offshoot which he unostentatious 
 ly planted in Britain has already spread its 
 branches nearly over the whole earth. 
 
 He was eminently a man for the time. The 
 potentates of the national church, surfeited 
 in luxury and indulgence, were too much ab 
 sorbed in courtly adulation, or too much en 
 gaged in political intrigue, to v pay any great 
 attention to the common pastors, and little 
 , indeed to the common people. The grandees 
 of the Establishment had then, as they have 
 now, their parliamentary authority for eccle 
 siastical usurpati' n, and for their landed and 
 pecuniary rights independent of the clamors 
 of the toiling multitude. The church was the 
 pillar of state, and the state was the support of 
 the church ; and on these props rested, and 
 perhaps still rests, the grand fabric of the 
 British Constitution. 
 
 What cared the "Lords spiritual" for the 
 murmurs of the dissatisfied populace ? They, 
 the regal parasites, never sympathized with 
 the discontented. What cared the titled and 
 wealthy dignitaries and beneficiaries pf the 
 English " church militant" for the bodies or 
 souls of their menial flock ? The claimants to 
 apostolical succession seemed to satisfy their 
 conscience by the rigid performance of one 
 particular duty the inculcation of the texts 
 " Fear God ; honor the king ;" " Obey them 
 that have rule over you, and submit your- 
 selves ;" and if any further exercise was 
 required it was concentrated in one grand 
 effort to take care of themselves. 
 
 John Wesley, though an humble and sub 
 missive minister of the Establishment, and one 
 who always contended for its superiority, was 
 a man of kindly feeling, possessing a deep 
 sympathy for the large number of neglected 
 pe pie, members of the church ; and he be 
 wailed the spiritual destitution of the whole 
 nation. His candid suggestions to his supe 
 riors were rejected with pompous and official 
 disdain ; and thpugh he was grieved to take 
 one step in advance of those whose duty it 
 was to lead, yet he took that step, and did 
 what he considered requisite to mature a good 
 project, and with what success the Methodism 
 of the present day can fully attest. He start 
 ed almost alone, and with but one great object 
 in view the spiritual benefit of his fellow- 
 men ; and if it can be said that his efforts in 
 this respect were misdirected, it must also be 
 
 said that no man was ever more truly honest 
 and sincere. His self-denial was wonderful; 
 and his labors were great ; and were he tc 
 recount his struggles and trials, he might 
 with an apostle have truly said : " In journey- 
 ings often, in perils of waters, in perils of rob 
 bers, in perils of mine own countrymen, in 
 perils by the heathen, in perils in the city, in 
 perils in the wilderness, in perils in the sea, in 
 perils among false brethren ; In weariness 
 and painfulness, in watching? often, in hun 
 ger and thirst, in fastings often, in cold and 
 nakedness." Such a spirit was destined to 
 overcome all opposition, and his triumph was 
 in a great measure complete. 
 
 Among other peculiarities, it was the habit 
 of the Rev. Mr. Wesley to record in a journal 
 every circumstance of any note that took 
 place during the day ; this he continued to do 
 for many years. In his numerous journeyings 
 by land and sea, he made entries respecting 
 the state of his mind, and of his trials, temp 
 tations, conversations, correspondence, and 
 reading. But there were other entries which 
 were more particularly dwelt upon, such as 
 strange mental impressions, premonitions, 
 interpositions, or any event which might un 
 der the influence of enthusiasm, or in the 
 light of his reputed credulity, be construed 
 into a special act of Providence. 
 
 Nearly all through his journals many en 
 tries of this kind are recorded, ard many in 
 deed giving minute details entering deeply 
 into the supernatural or spiritual. Some of 
 these relations are strangely curious and 
 interesting, and to this day " Wesley's Jour 
 nals" occupy a prominent place in the library, 
 or on the bookshelf of every studious Method 
 ist. 
 
 Following the practice of their pious foun 
 der, it is common among members of the Wes- 
 leyan societies to keep similar journals. The 
 preachers of the primitive body, for many 
 years after the decease of Mr. Wesley, made it 
 a point of duty to erect these spiritual memo 
 rials, and the duty was looked on by many as 
 highly beneficial, and almost considered a 
 special " means of grace ;" and often in the 
 declining years of Jife, the quiet perusal of 
 these records would remind the aged Chris 
 tian of the earlier trials which had beset him, 
 and of the many spiritual triumphs that en 
 couraged him on his way. 
 
 But if it is yet common. to keep such jour 
 nals, it is by no means general. Those who 
 now continue it as a duty are not princi 
 pally of " such as are called to minister in 
 sacred things." The practice in this respect 
 seems to have been reversed ; formerly it was 
 the preacher, now it is mostly the private 
 member. In the struggling days of Method 
 ism, the preachers were spiritual Sampsons, 
 humble minded, energetic, and devoted men ; 
 but many of their successors at the present 
 time are "like an entirely new race ; they feel 
 the effects of their " connectional " influence ; 
 they have become more aspiring and lofty in 
 thought, and are busy courting popularity 
 and political influence, establishing "foreign 
 missions," striving for an eminence in lead 
 ing popular schemes, or planning how tc 
 obtain money to erect richly decorated and
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 ttractive churches, or to circumambulate the 
 globe, in order that- their teachings and reli 
 gious discipline may take precedence of all 
 others. It is now conceded that Methodist 
 preachers are by far the most systematic and 
 successful class of Protestant beggars in all 
 Christendom. 
 
 Several of the leading preachers of that 
 sect now choose to be known as " ministers" 
 or " clergymen,'' and wlv>, with the prefix of 
 " Rev." or " Doctor" to their names, are to a cer 
 tain extent as towering in pretension and as 
 arrogant in authority as their more learned 
 and aristocratic brethren of the national 
 church the real " successors of the apostles." 
 There are, however, noble exceptions in the 
 ranks of Methodism men who do not assume 
 a higher position in the church or in society 
 than that held by their laborious predecessors, 
 and who are still content to be recognized as 
 " preachers," and indifferent as to whether 
 they are called upon to deliver the " word of 
 life" from the richly cushioned pulpit, tower 
 ing up beneath the gilt and stuccoed ceiling 
 of a fashionable marble edifice, or from behind 
 the rude chair in the remote and humble cot 
 tage of the peasant. 
 
 It is yet correct to state that many private 
 members, and it may be some preachers, still 
 adhere to the old practice of Mr. Wesley, 
 and profess to find the keeping of a daily rec 
 ord very beneficial, and an incentive to good 
 works. 
 
 In this particular, Mrs. Mannors followed 
 the example of the venerable founder of her 
 church. The religious services of the Method 
 ists are, in some respects, if not novel, at 
 least very singular. Among these services, 
 one of a peculiar nature is known as " class, 
 meeting." A class is composed of five or six, 
 or may be of a dozen, actual members of the 
 society, in good standing. Every such class 
 has its " leader " a person who has been well 
 tried and approved, and one of known experi 
 ence in " Ifoly things," appointed to meet 
 these members at stated periods. At such 
 meetings, each member is personally addressed 
 by the leader, and is required to express in his 
 own way the dealings of God with his soul, 
 and to give a brief account of his or her reli 
 gious experience since they last met. As 
 each individual concludes, the leader gives a 
 few appropriate words of admonition or en 
 couragement, and generally recommends a 
 greater attention to prayer, and a closer ob 
 servance of some duty hitherto neglected. 
 
 The leader of the class of which Mrs. Man 
 nors was a member strongly urged the duty 
 of watchfulness ; and, as a means of detection, 
 advised that each member should if possible 
 keep a journal, and daily make therein such 
 entries respecting trials, temptations, and sug 
 gestions from the Evil One, as might be deem 
 ed applicable. Mrs. Mannors. therefore, kept 
 a journal, and noted for her perusal every in 
 cident or matter which her feelings led her to 
 think might anvct her spiritual interest ; and 
 the entry made by her on the first day of 
 April was as follows : 
 
 " April 1st. This morning was again blest 
 in believing. Oh ! for more faith. Would 
 that the faith of the saints were given to un 
 
 believers! I still hope. God's arm is not 
 shortened ; his power is still great, even to the 
 sending of signs and visions. This morning 
 his glorious cross was visible to my mortal 
 eyes. Satan would have it a delusion ; but I 
 will believe." Then followed these lines from 
 one of Wesley's hymns : 
 
 " Lift up for all mankind to sec, 
 
 The standard of their dying God, 
 And point them to the shameful tree, 
 The cross all stained with hallowed blood." 
 
 Although it was not unusual to see a vast 
 cloud of smoke stretching over London, suffi 
 cient even at times almost to hide the tops of 
 the highest steeples, yet it was an uncommon 
 sight indeed to find the city so completely 
 hidden as it appeared to be that morning the 
 lone cross the only distinct object. To the 
 natural philosopher it was a beautiful sight ; 
 it was very much so to Mr. Mannors and hia 
 companions. There was no mystery to them 
 about the matter ; even William, if asked by 
 his father, could have given an explanation of 
 the appearance and the atmospheric cause. 
 But to his mother it was something more. 
 Her mind was strongly impressed that sh 
 had been permitted to behold a vision, and she 
 felt certain that some revelation or promise 
 was thereby intended for her special edifica 
 tion. 
 
 During a long period of the religious ca 
 reer of Mrs. Mannors, she had often had 
 dreams and visions of a singular and impres 
 sive character. In seasons of active religious 
 duty and continued prayer, she would go forth 
 in dreams to Calvary, on which the cross and 
 Saviour would be for her again erected ; she 
 would ijive a minute description of his person 
 and tell of the benignant smile that he be 
 stowed on her. Then again she would re 
 late some curious interposition; and a cir 
 cumstance that might pass entirely unnoticed 
 at other times would at these particular peri 
 ods be traced to the hand of a special provi 
 dence. It appeared, therefore, that her mind 
 was occasionally best by illusions; and 
 during certain periodical religious excite 
 ments, she ate and drank, or walked about, or 
 slept, in hourly expectation of being the cho 
 sen bearer of some supernatural burden. 
 
 When she entered the breakfast room that 
 morning, her reason was evidently perplexed 
 by the vivid feelings which then had the con 
 trol. Mr. Mannors, who at once noticed the 
 appearance of anxious excitement depicted on 
 her face, and who always felt and manifested 
 the most tender interest respecting her, laid 
 liis hand gently on her shoulder and said : 
 
 " My dear, I think you did wrong by follow- 
 ng our example, and leaving your room so 
 sarlv." 
 
 Mr. Mannors was seated on a sofa, and her 
 looks certainly betrayed the strong emotions 
 which affected her at the moment ; she tried 
 to appear calm, but her anxiety was plainly 
 visible. Mary and William sat close to her, 
 and were impulsive echoes of what their fa 
 ther had just said. 
 
 " You know, Ma," said Mary, " that Pa, and 
 I, and William agreed to be up very early 
 this morning. Pa wagered that he would be 
 in the garden first, and William and I agreed
 
 12 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 that whichever of iis awoke soonest should 
 call the other, so that we should get out before 
 Pa ; but I think Pa would have won only for 
 the plan which William took." 
 
 " The way I did, Ma, I saw Robert last even 
 ing in the stable, and I knew that he intended 
 to drive to Camden very early. I told him to 
 call me as soon as he could see the dawn, so 
 he did ; then I called Mary ; that was how she 
 won the gloves. No- doubt Pa wondered 
 how we out-generaled him. Wasn't my 
 plan a good one, Ma ?" 
 
 This hurried account of how the wager 
 was won was but so many cheerful words, 
 spoken as much to attract the attention of 
 Mrs. Manners and amuse her, in order that 
 the settled gravity of her looks might grad 
 ually brighten into the wished tor parental 
 smile of approval. To effect this with cer 
 tainty, they went on without a pause to mo 
 nopolize the conversation. 
 
 " See, Ma,"said Mary, pulling out her gloves, 
 " are not these pretty ? This is my wager." 
 
 Then the story of the April fool was related ; 
 but while Mrs. Manners seemed to listen, it 
 was plain that her thoughts were preoccupied ; 
 she looked wistfully from one to the other, but 
 Said not a word. 
 
 "Are not these beautiful?" said William, 
 presenting his mother with a bunch of fresh 
 spring flowers. " See what a nice bouquet I 
 have brought you !" 
 
 He began to arrange them in a small vase ; 
 and when done, he playfully held it toward 
 his mother's face in order to have her catch 
 the perfume. 
 
 The breakfast room of Heath Cottage looked 
 that morning a pleasing picture in a happy 
 home. The table neatly set ; the white cloth, 
 the shining cups, and the polished kettle. The 
 chairs, sola, and other articles in the room 
 stood around as il they were enjoying them 
 selves, and determined to exhibit to the best 
 advantage their glistening outlines in the sun 
 shine that fkxxled the whole apartment. 
 
 It did look like home. Mary's little straw 
 hat lay on the sofa where she hurriedly tossed 
 it as she rushed in, laughing, chased by her 
 brother ; and now as she stood before them 
 she looked as beautiful inside of the house as 
 the fair spring morning did outside. No 
 three beings could have been apparently 
 more happy poor Mrs. Mannors alone being 
 the shadow. Here she was surrounded with 
 cheerfulness and worldly comforts, loved and 
 waited on by those who would have been de 
 lighted to add to her happiness ; but she was 
 not happy; and as you looked at her now, 
 seated demurely at the table, you would have 
 every moment expected to hear her sigh out : 
 " Alas, alas 1 all is vanity." 
 
 " O Ma !'' said Mary, as if suddenly re 
 collecting, " if you had only been in the 
 garden you would have had a most mag 
 nificent view. You know the city is very 
 often hidden by the immense volume of 
 smoke that descends during the night. Well, 
 this morning in particular, London was 
 as completely lost to our sight as if it had ' 
 been swallowed up in the ocean ; and as you 
 looked away, away, in the seeming boundless 
 distance, you could see the sunbeams centre i 
 
 on the dome of St. Paul's, and the great cross 
 being the only object visible might be easily 
 fancied a light-house far, far out at sea. We 
 all declared that it was singularly attractive. 
 I do wish, Ma, you had seen it." 
 
 " My dear child," said Mrs. Mannors, " why 
 let your fancy interfere with an appearance 
 that God probably called forth, and intended 
 as a sign of his good-will and of his long-suf 
 fering and forbearance ? I saw the hallo wed 
 object from the window ; 1, too, saw the sacred 
 emblem of our religion, so much despised by 
 the world, exalted on high in the blessed 
 sunlight, and pointing to heaven while the 
 world beneath seemed buried in iniquity. 
 A revelation from God is not an impossi 
 bility even at the present day ; his elect have 
 proof of this. We have now the clear light 
 of his sacred word, and if this^ fails as, alas ! 
 it too often does he may in his mercy and 
 loving-kindness give us even again signs and 
 tokens as he did of old. If our hearts con 
 tinue to stray from him, he may use extraordi 
 nary means to wean us from the world. If 
 we remain stiff-necked and stubborn, instead 
 of the cross, held up as a token of his love, 
 we may but witness the fierce lightning of 
 his indignation. God's special providence 
 may have produced a sign and a token this 
 morning for us ; let us not look on it as a triv 
 ial occurrence. How otten are we warned in 
 dreams and visions of the night. The cross 
 which we but an hour since witnessed is the 
 emblem of Christianity, and was no doubt, in 
 my mind, a special token for us. By that 
 blessel token, the Almighty has often with 
 great condescension converted others ; by that, 
 a persecuting Paul, and the debased and 
 heathen emperor Constantino, were brought 
 to a saving knowledge of the truth. We have 
 just had an evidence of divine interposition ; 
 then let us not neglect the great salvation." 
 
 As she spoke, any evidence of gloom that 
 might have been previously traced on her 
 countenance had now entirely disappeared. 
 Her face brightened up, and was overspread 
 with a sudden flush ; but there was something 
 inexpressible in her eye, something that 
 would have been once mistaken as prophetic. 
 She was again calm, and what she had 
 expressed was spoken with great sincerity and 
 affection. Her mind had been overcharged 
 with strangely misshapen ideas, and, as the 
 words fell from her lips, the mental burden 
 seemed to become lighter and lighter. 
 
 " I will not dispute with you, my dear," jaid 
 Mr. Mannors, " as to what the Scriptures state 
 respecting the miraculous light St. Paul is said 
 to have witnessed ; you firmly believe in what 
 you call the 'written word,' and would not 
 allow a doubt concerning it to exist in your 
 mind. Were I fully competent, it might per 
 haps be useless for me to try and affect your be 
 lief relative to that mid-day vision." 
 
 " Indeed, it would. I am as satisfied of the 
 truth of what the New Testament relates as to 
 the conversion of St. Paul as 1 am of the truth 
 of my own existence. There is not a passage 
 nor even a word recorded in that holy book, but 
 has my full and entire belief; and to listen to 
 any evidence against its inspired statements 
 would be only soliciting and welcoming a
 
 EXETER HALL, 
 
 
 temptation from the evil one. If we are to go 
 on doubting according to the foolish sugges 
 tions of our blind reason, morality, religion, 
 and faith would soon disappear, and leave the 
 world in midnight darkness." 
 
 " The very strong assertions which you have 
 just made," rejoined Mr. Mannors, " must for 
 ever debar you from investigation; and if you 
 always adhere to the exprt-ssions you have used 
 respecting Scriptural truth, you must ever re 
 main bound to a belief that would now be 
 terribly embarrassing to some of the most 
 prominent teachers of the Christian faith. I 
 need scarcely inform you that many eminent 
 Commentators, who have made it the study 
 of their lives to explain and reconcile conflict 
 ing texts, admit its impossibility, and confess 
 themselves exceedingly perplexed with the 
 numerous interpolations and contradictory 
 passages which they have discovered in the 
 Bible. There are, for instance, gross discrepan 
 cies in the inspired accounts of Paul's conver 
 sion ; and you are already aware that Luther, 
 the great apostle of the Reformation, totally 
 rejected as spurious the entire Revelation of 
 St. John the last twenty-two chapters of the 
 New Testament. 
 
 " But I have no desire at present to give you 
 instances of other doubts which have been 
 raised against the credibility of the Scriptures. 
 I would like to call your attention to histori 
 cal facts in relation to the supposed conver 
 sion of Constantine. 
 
 " Are you satisfied that the legend about 
 Constantine and the cross has any foundation 
 in fact ? Do you believe the story of the sign 
 which is said to have appeared to him in the 
 heavens, bearing the motto, ' By this con 
 quer' ? Do you really believe that this repu 
 ted miraculous vision was the cause of the 
 heathen Emperor's conversion to Chris 
 tianity i" 
 
 " I have no reason, nor have I any right, to 
 doubt it. The most eminent men of that 
 period were satisfied of its truth ; and even to 
 the present day many of the most learned 
 and faithful of the church of God have, time 
 after time, related the story for general belief. 
 We should not undervalue the Bible because 
 there are or may be different interpretations 
 of it. The Scriptures warn us against ' per 
 verse teachings;' for we know that even 
 ministers of religion have tried to twist, the 
 true meaning of the word to accommodate 
 their own views. As for Luther's opinion of 
 t he Apocalypse, I care but little ; he was but 
 :m erring man, his acts were not always de 
 fensible. He was at times a skeptic, and 
 would have been a persecutor." 
 
 " Well, I shall not contend with you now as 
 to why religious doctors will differ so widely 
 : -spccting what they assert in the press and 
 pulpit to be so easily understood. You are 
 inclined to accept as truth the relation about 
 < 'onstantine ; but if we allow our feelings or 
 impressions to be the foundation of an opin 
 ion, we are very likely to be deceived. Long 
 b -torn that emperor circulated the account of 
 the appearance which he said he had seen in 
 the heavens, the heathen multitude were 
 taught to believe that he was permitted to 
 behold with mortal eyes the visible majesty 
 
 of their tutelar deity, and that whether wak 
 ing or in visions which were then quite com 
 mon he was blessed with the auspicious 
 omens of a long and victorious reign.* 
 These are historical words ; and it is therefore 
 plain that visions were not a novelty to Con 
 stantine whenever he found that they could 
 be of personal or political service. The mi 
 raculous view of the cross had in reality but 
 little effect upon himself. The common im 
 pression is, that he immediately became a re 
 formed man that is, a Christian ; but history 
 relates that he lived for many years after- 
 ward, and alternately encouraged heathen 
 ism and Christianity, and that it was only 
 during his last illness that he actually receiv 
 ed Christian baptism. Constantine was a 
 dissembler and a monster of cruelty. He 
 drowned his unoffending wife Fausta in a 
 bath of boiling water ; and the very year in 
 which it is said he presided at the council of 
 Nice, he beheaded his eldest son Ciispus. He 
 murdered the husbands of his sisters Constan- 
 tia uud Anastasia ; he murdered his father- 
 in-law, and his nephew, a boy only twelve 
 years old, and murdered others." Then, again, 
 he caused the destruction of the Pagan priest, 
 Sopater, who honestly refused the remorse 
 less, royal murderer the last consolations of 
 heathenism ; and then, because he was 
 promised immediate forgiveness through 
 Christ, he warmly espoused Christianity. 
 Such, then, is the historical character given of 
 the man whom Christians are taught to re 
 vere ; the man to whom it is said that Chris 
 tianity owes its legal establishment. He was 
 cruel and rapacious, a heathen one day and a 
 Christian the next ; and his name at last be 
 came infamous as an unfeeling, dissimulating 
 tyrant and heartless murderer. 
 
 So much, then, for the great convert and his 
 vision. I was as much pleased with the ap 
 pearance of the shining cross which was vis 
 ible to us this morning as it was possible for 
 me to have been. It was a beautiful sight, but 
 beyond that it was nothing. You believe it 
 was a vision, a special appearance for our edifi 
 cation ; no doubt that is your impression. But 
 why are we not all impressed alike ? If God 
 really intended to manifest himself to us by a 
 sign, it is only reasonable to suppose that 
 he would have made the evidence so satisfac 
 tory that there could remain no shadow of 
 doubt as to its object. What is evidence to 
 one may not be so to another. You can no more 
 believe for me than you can breathe for me. 
 Genuine belief is not a voluntary act ; it is the 
 result of thought and patient investigation. 
 If I, therefore, can not believe that the Almigh 
 ty manifested himself to us this morning by 
 a sign, your fancied vision is a failure as far as 
 /am concerned." 
 
 The conversation now related took place 
 during the time occupied at breakfast. Mr 
 Maiinors expressed himself with unusual 
 earnestness ; he spoke as if he felt that every 
 word was truth, and that truth must be 
 spoken, DO matter what the consequence ; and 
 were, it not that he thought it might be pain 
 ful to give his wife other similar proofs of the 
 
 * Gibbon's Roman Hist.
 
 14 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 rile character of men imposed upon the credu 
 lous and simple as being the sanctified lathers 
 of the church, he would have done so. Many 
 instances of the treachery and deceit of such 
 persons occurred to him, but he felt that he 
 had said enough ; he knew by experience that 
 it was useless to confine Mrs. Manners to fair 
 argument. Her controversial method was na 
 ked assertion ; and if she listened to an oppo 
 nent, it was often as if in pity for his pre 
 sumed ignorance and unbelief. 
 
 Mary and her brother were quiet listeners 
 to what had been said ; she did not wish to 
 make any remark for or against the opinions 
 or statements advanced. Mrs. Mannors had 
 also listened, as it were, thoughtfully, and with 
 unusual patience. She firmly believed in the 
 honesty of her husband's convictions. She 
 knew that he never dealt in rash assertions, or 
 in unkind remarks. What he said she knew 
 he believed, and if he acted in any other way 
 he would be untrue to his own character. She 
 would hear what he said, painful as it might 
 be to listen ; and while he reasoned with her, 
 she would mentally pray for his enlighten 
 ment ; she would ever hope and wait until the 
 Lord's good time. She had great faith that 
 if the inspired word could prevail with the 
 heathen.and the ignorant and poll uted, that her 
 husband and her dear children, though un 
 clean, debased, and condemned by original sin, 
 would be yet brought to a saving knowledge 
 of the truth. To her, in her fond affection, 
 they were as superior beings, and she had an 
 idea that the Lord would look upon them as 
 such, and send conversion in answer to her 
 prayers. 
 
 Breakfast and discussion having now ended, 
 Mr. Mannors retired to the little apartment 
 connected with the library. He sat musing 
 at the open window. The morning was still 
 fair and beautiful ; the very air was fragrance, 
 as its gentle breathings stole like the sunlight 
 over his face. The outer world was very quiet ; 
 the hum of the distant busy commerce was now 
 as soft as the hum of the busy bee in the gar 
 den. It was a time just fit for musing, a time 
 when, if you are not careful, your thoughts are 
 apt to mutiny, and, like sprites, to scatter the 
 mind in fragmmts away into the dreamy 
 twilight of oblivion. 
 
 But Mr. Mannors was thinking ; he had ever 
 food for thought, and his thoughts were ever 
 vigorous. He dwelt upon the multitude of 
 conflicting opinions that agitated mankind. 
 Every country and people and creed has each 
 its peculiar idea of truth, and all are strug 
 gling and contending for that absolute idea 
 which is unattainable by man. Wonderful is 
 the mystery of belief; the deeper the mys 
 tery the greater the faith. All religionists 
 arc great believers; and what a multitude of 
 religions and diversity of creeds 1 The evi 
 dence which brings belief to one generates 
 doubt in another What is iruth in Eng 
 land is error in Rome ! Belief, therefore, is a 
 mystery, and faith has made this very world 
 the " bedlam of the universe." 
 
 In order to establish a religion, you must 
 have attendant mysteries and visions. The 
 ancient heathen priests wrought on the minds 
 of their followers almost ertirely by such agen 
 
 cies. The Egyptians, the Persians, the Jews, 
 the Grecians, and Romans would have found 
 their altars deserted were it not for this re 
 source ; and no kind of religious imposition 
 has ever yet failed where visions and oracles 
 have been well applied. 
 
 The Bible is a history of visions ; and from 
 such, prophets and apostles derived their mis 
 sion and their inspiration. The advent of 
 Christ was made known to the shepherds by a 
 vision, and his life was a kaleidoscope of vis 
 ions. The apostles had visions, and by this 
 means St. Paul was converted. Then, besides 
 a multitude of later ones, there was Constan- 
 tine's visions of the gods, and his celebrated 
 vision of the cross. There was Mohammed's 
 vision of the angel Gabriel. Still later, there 
 were Luther's visions, and Swedenborg's 
 visions, and visions to the Mormon prophet, 
 and to the Spiritualists, and to Latter-day 
 Saints ; and last of all, the vision this morning 
 to my wife. 
 
 He still mused, and the soft wind-whispers 
 that stirred the young spring leaves flew in 
 fragrant ecstasy from bud to bud. Mary's 
 sweet song from the summer house reached 
 his ear like the low murmur of distant melo 
 dy, but which after awhile gradually swelled 
 out to a sound like martial music, slow, plain 
 tive, and funereal. 
 
 He looked, and a strange procession passed 
 before him. A solemn company of men of an 
 tiquated appearance, attired in ancient look 
 ing costumes, and headed by a motley band of 
 melancholy musicians, marched slowly on 
 ward. Each of the antiquated men carried a 
 large inflated bundle on his shoulder, and when 
 he arrived at a certain spot, which seemed to be 
 a deep, dark gulf, dashed his bundle down 
 with great force. There was a flash and an 
 explosion, and then some grotesque monster 
 or horrid vision would appear and disappear 
 in a moment ! He then saw two demure-look 
 ing men advancing toward him from opposite 
 bides ; as they drew nigher they spat at, and 
 scowled upon each other : one he took to be 
 the Pope, and the other the archbishop of 
 Canterbury. They held with firm grip stout 
 episcopal crosiers, and when they approached 
 sufficient y near, they stared at him with an 
 angry frown, and then together let fall their 
 pastoral staffs heavily on his head. Mary had 
 just stolen in and given her father a smart 
 pat on the shoulder, and Martin Mannors 
 lifted his head and awoke. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 IT is a prevailing opinion among certain 
 of the worldly-minded that persons who are 
 very religious must of necessity be also very 
 ascetic ; this is a mistake. It is quite possible 
 that the devotee or religions enthusiast of the 
 present day may be one who, above all others, 
 is able and willing not only to enjoy the crea 
 ture comforts within his reach, but also with 
 many of the aforesaid comforts and delicacies 
 to seek and secure secular distinctions for 
 which crowds of common sinners are most 
 clamorous.
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 15 
 
 The servants of the church were never yet 
 debarred from reasonable enjoyments ; and we 
 find that their appreciation of things condu 
 cive to personal ease and comfort has not at 
 nil lessened. Many of the " successors of the 
 apostles" can now innocently display their 
 humble wealth in palatial residences, and can 
 appear in public in gorgeous sackcloth as 
 "lords" of the "spiritual" realm. The 
 "pious" peem to understand the true mean 
 ing of pastoral self-denial ; for presentations 
 of gold and silver plate to those who minister 
 in sacred things are quite common ; and if 
 genuine comfort is to be eajoyed on this side 
 of the grave, priests of the altar, with, it may 
 be presumed, the greatest purity of motive, 
 strive to obtain it to the fullest extent. 
 
 In very old times, to be sure, before people 
 ever thought of trying to reconcile religion 
 with common sense, to be a devotee then was 
 to be almost as entirely dead or indifferent to 
 what concerned your body as if it did not be 
 long to you, and was only carried about as a 
 curse or temptation to be got rid of as soon as 
 possible. And the recluses of that dark period 
 had a gloomy belief that existence itself was a 
 burden, from which to be early released was 
 only to gain a readier passport to paradise. 
 
 Yes, indeed ; popular piety in those morose 
 ages led to strange misconceptions of man's 
 duty here, and of his destiny in a future state. 
 But no matter whether pious emotions arose 
 from a contemplation of the virtues of Vishnu, 
 or Siva, or from any of the ancient " Saviours," 
 or from other gods or goddesses of the most 
 remote antiquity, religion in every form has 
 had its frantic votaries, its therapeute, its fa 
 kirs, its monks, its anchorites, its convulsion- 
 aries, and its many other wild unreasoning vis 
 ionaries. Setting aside particular instances of 
 the fanat'cism of Egyptian or Indian gymnoso- 
 ^/hists, or of the priests of the Syrian god 
 dess who flogged themselves in her honor, 
 or of the priests of Isis who did the same, 
 or of the priests of Bellona or Diana who co 
 vered themselves with wounds, or of the 
 priests of Cybele who made themselves eu 
 nuchs, or of fakirs who went loaded with 
 chains, or of savage devotees who, to propitiate 
 some god, would as readily fling an infant in 
 to the Ganges or Nile as an Israelitish Jehu 
 would destroy the child of an Ahab, how fear 
 ful, alas ! is the lesson we have to learn respect 
 ing the vicious and inhuman impulses which 
 men in all times have derived from the influ 
 ence of what is called " religion." No other 
 influence has ever been so terribly potent ; 
 it has robbed them of their reason, it has made 
 them brutes, and guilty of acts and practices 
 diabolical and most degrading to humanity. 
 
 But fMin the praises which have been lav 
 ished on the Christ ian scheme, from its protean 
 creeds, and its millions of worshipers ; from 
 t'.ie submission of great minds to its inspira 
 tion ; from its promises of " peace and good 
 will ;" from its reputed virtue, its greut 
 wealth or its vast popularity, who could have 
 expected such terrible results to follow the es 
 tablishment of a system which promised so 
 much charity, so much benovolence, so much 
 virtue, and so much peace ? In the history of 
 the world, the plodding progress of Chris 
 
 tianity, the religion of warlike and desolated 
 Europe, can be traced all over the earth in 
 dread characters of blood and ruin. 
 
 Is it not, then, deplorable to discover that 
 austerities and debasemep.es and horrid cruel 
 ties did not, cease upon the inculcation of doc 
 trines which, like others more ancient, espe 
 cially claimed a divine origin and authority 
 From its earliest days, the new fai h was in- 
 cumbered with delusions and absurdities of 
 the most degrading character. There seemed 
 to be no modification of extravagant practices 
 like those of ancient heathen devotees, and in 
 tolerance was bid to reign in dread earne'st. 
 Multitudes of Christian hermits and monks 
 abandoned the duties of life to rusli idioticalJ v 
 into some monastery or wilderness, professing 
 that the perfection of human nature was the an 
 nihilation of genial feeling or affection, and 
 that the passions which kind nature had in.- 
 planted should, if possible, be uprooted or de 
 stroyed. For this purpose, many of these fana 
 tics went nearly naked, letting their hair and 
 nails grow, dwelling in gloomy caves, or in 
 such rocky recesses as would afford temporary 
 shelter. It has been written that " the mora 
 rigid and heroic of the Christian anchorites 
 dispensed with all clothing except a rug, or H 
 few palm-leaves around the loins. Most of 
 them abstained from the use of water for ab 
 lution, nor did they usually wash or change 
 the garments they had once put on ; and it ia 
 said that St. Anthony bequeathed to Athana- 
 sius a skin in which his sacred person had 
 been wrapped for half a century."* 
 
 Among the most remarkable of these 
 wretched fanatics is that of Paul, the hermit, 
 who, it is recorded, lived for over ninety yeara 
 in an Egyptian desert more like a beast than 
 a human being. Gregory Nazianzen tells of 
 such early fanatics in the following words : 
 " There were some who loaded themselves 
 with chains, in order to bear down their 
 bodies ; others who ahut themselves up in 
 cabins, and appeared to nobody ; some con 
 tinued twenty days and twenty nights with 
 out eating, often practicing the half the fast of 
 our Lord. One individual is said to have ab 
 stained entirely from speaking, and another 
 passed whole years in a church with extend 
 ed hands, 1 ke an animated statue." 
 
 But it ia said that the most astonishing 
 account in ecclesiastical history of self-pun 
 ishment is that recorded of an infatuated per 
 son called St. Symeon, a native of Syria. He 
 lived thirty-six years on a pillar, erected on a 
 mountain in that country. From this pillar 
 it ia said he never descended except to taKe 
 possession of another, which he did four 
 times. The last one which he occupied wag 
 loftier than the others, being sixty feet high, 
 and but three feet broad ; and the account 
 states tliat on the last pillar he stood for sev 
 eral years, day and night, summer and winter, 
 exposed to heat and cold, and to all the sud 
 den changes of a severe climate. The breadth 
 of the pillar was not sufficient to permit him 
 to lie down ; and it ia said that he used to 
 spend moat of the day in meditation and 
 
 * See Dowling's History of Romanism, p. 88, Taylor'i 
 Ancient Christianity, pp. 426-401, etc., etc.
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 prayer, and in the afternoon until sunset ha 
 rangue the crowds from all countries who 
 nocked to hear him. 
 
 The superstitions abounding in the early 
 ages of the Christian Church were most de 
 grading, and overwhelmed the reason of all 
 classes. Accordingto Mosheim, there were fas 
 cinated biographers in the sixth century who 
 used to " amuse their readers with gigantic 
 fables and trifling romances. The examples 
 they exhibit are those of certain delirious fa 
 natics whom they call saint*, men of corrupt 
 and perverted judgment, who offered vio 
 lence to reason and nature by the horrors 
 of an extravagant austerity in their own con 
 duce, and by the severity of those singular 
 and inhuman rules which they prescribed to 
 others. For by what means were these men 
 sainted? By starving themselves with a fran 
 tic* obstinacy, and bearing the useless hard 
 ships of hunger, thirst, and inclement seasons 
 with steadfastness and perseverance; by run 
 ning about the country like madmen, in tatter 
 ed garments and sometimes half naked, or shut 
 ting themselves up in a narrow space where 
 they continued motionless; by standing for a 
 long time in certain postures with their 
 eyes closed in the enthusiastic expectation of 
 divine light all this was saint-like and glori 
 ous ; and the more that any ambitious fanatic 
 departed from the dictates of reason and com 
 mon sen e, and counterfeited the wild gestures 
 and incoherent conduct of an idiot or a lunatic, 
 the surer was his prospect of obtaining an 
 eminent rank among the heroes and demigods 
 of a corrupt and degenerate church."* 
 
 Then in the tenlii century, scourging as a 
 penance was the prevailing custom, and sin 
 ners of the highest rank cheerfully submitted 
 themselves. Henry II. was flogged by the 
 monks of Canterbury in 1207. Raymond, 
 Count of Toulouse, was flogged with a rope 
 around his neck at the door of St. Giles's 
 church. The chaplains of Louis VIII., King 
 of France, were flogged by order of the 
 Pope's legate, and Henry IV. of France was 
 treated the same way by a cardinal. 
 
 In the thirteenth century, men almost nak 
 ed, with a rod in one hand and a crucifix in 
 the other, flogged themselves in the public 
 streets, and from that time flagellation became 
 a common practice nearly all through Europe 
 until the sixteenth century ; and it was thought 
 BO commendable that Henry III., by the advice 
 of his confessor, the Jesuit, Edmund Auger, 
 placed himself at the head of the flagellators. 
 Even to the present dav, in parts of Italy and 
 Spain, persons may still be found who prac 
 tice this bodily chastisement ; and now, in 
 the middle of the nineteenth century, when 
 we find ritualism on the increase, when we find 
 a Protestant Ignatius in England, and nunne 
 ries, and other gloomy places of refuge for 
 pious visionaries, in every part of Europe, as 
 well as in Asia and America, one may well ex 
 claim, that the race of silly saints or of wild fa 
 natics is not yet quite extinct. 
 
 Protestant Christians, however, as a body, de 
 sire to claim an exemption from such acts of 
 folly and barbarity, and assert that their be- 
 
 - Sec Mouheim, century vl. part 8, chapter ill. 
 
 lief does not require a denial of any proper 
 or reasonable enjoyment. But Protestants, 
 though perhaps not yet as guilty to the same 
 extent as the faithful of Rome, can not assert 
 that they are free from this charge. They 
 never had the same opportunities ; but when 
 opportunity offered, they have been as intoler 
 ant, as bitter in persecution, and altogether as 
 overbearing in spirit, as were the cruel dogma 
 tists of any other form of religion. Protes 
 tants ought not to boast of their religious liber 
 ality, or freedom from religious folly. What 
 has been the liberality of that monster of cu 
 pidity, the English Establishment V Already 
 in Britain the black draped seiis of the High 
 Church, yearning for heathen and Romish for 
 malities, have done much in a quiet way to 
 establish religious orders, and confessionals, 
 and places of seclusion ; and were it not for 
 the strong common sense of the common peo 
 ple ; were it not for the hatred of oppression 
 and the proud love of freedom that exist in 
 that little isle among nature's great legion of 
 honor, there would be another Star Cham 
 ber, and another importation of relics and 
 thumb-screws ; and we should find crosses and 
 pictures and holy water and holy candles, and 
 other sanctified trumpery in many places ot 
 worship erected under the auspices and au 
 thority of that greedy insatiable mammoth. 
 
 Are Dissenters or Nonconformists free from 
 the sin ? Not at all. Cromwell's praying le 
 gions were a set of morose jangling fanatics ; 
 mouthing texts of vengeance, and whetting 
 their swords to glut them with blood. To the 
 elect of the Puritan cast, we are indebted for 
 genuine specimens of ascetic folly, supersti 
 tion, and intolerance ; they recognized witch 
 craft in America, and gave weeping, pleading, 
 and feeble old women to the flames in Boston ; 
 they hounded, persecuted, and destroyed un 
 offending Quakers ; and established a rule of 
 terror in the noted Blue laws of Connecticut.* 
 
 Although there are by far too many good 
 Christians who, like Mrs. Manners, still think 
 that they should be ready and willing to re 
 sign the dearest earthly treasure jewels of 
 the heart husband or wife or children, in the 
 vain fancy that the sacrifice would be pleas 
 ing to God ; yet the majority of pious people 
 are getting more sensible a sacrificial theory 
 to this extent has the preference and the 
 godly seem determined to enjoy themselves. 
 And now, if you had an opportunity, Asmo 
 deus-like, to peep in through the little parlor 
 window of the comfortable house of the Rev. 
 James Baker, you would at once have a con 
 vincing proof that the straitest of formalist* 
 and the strictest of church-members can be, 
 at certain times, as cosy and contented, and 
 can enjoy the creature comforts as well as the 
 most worldly-minded. 
 
 Looking, then, into this little parlor, we Be 
 a smiling set of faces around a cheerful tea- 
 table. The carpeted apartment was very pleas 
 ant ; the pretty landscapes which hung on 
 the papered walls seemed to look their best ; 
 the bright tea-pot glistened, and its odorous 
 fumes twirled around and around as if in 
 ecstasy to reach the white ceiling. It was 
 
 *8ee Note A.
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 17 
 
 not. exactly what might be called a small tea- 
 party ; it was more like a moderate female 
 cooA'ontion. There were eight ladies quietly 
 sipping the fragrant decoction; most of them 
 were of rather mature age, and they seemed 
 to be engaged in the pleasant discussion of 
 some subject which alternately produced very 
 opposite feelings. 
 
 The lady who presided was Mrs. Baker, wife 
 of the minister, and leader of the class in 
 which Mrs. Mannors met for religious exercise. 
 Mrs. Baker was a person evidently well fitted 
 for the position assigned her in the church. 
 Though her mental culture was imperfect, she 
 was confident in manner, fluent in words, and 
 well supplied with hymns and texts, which 
 enabled her to give force and point to any re 
 ligious remarks she might make. She led in 
 conversation as readily as she did in prayer ; 
 and if she could use texts to a good purpose 
 with her own sex, she could also occasionally 
 give wings to a joke, and drive away any su 
 perfluous gloom that might follow her suc 
 cessive phrases of pious observation. 
 
 The ladies who were guests at Mrs. Baker's 
 that afternoon were the members of her class 
 who met at her house, by regular appoint 
 ment, one evening in every week ; and it often 
 happened that after the performance of their 
 religious duties most of them would be in 
 duced to remain for tea. Thus these periodi 
 cal reunions were very social, pleasant, and 
 profitable ; and through the week this meet 
 ing was anticipated with much pleasure. The 
 conversation which their little parties found 
 most interesting generally related to the pecu 
 liar interests or concerns of their own society 
 something about new churches, new ministers, 
 or new members ; and anecdotes concerning 
 the formation of choirs, or Sunday-schools, or 
 tea meetings ; but the subject most generally 
 attractive was that about great public as 
 semblages, in which Methodism was expected 
 to appear in particular refulgence. Regular 
 anniversaries were therefore talked of for 
 months previous to their recurrence ; and 
 meetings of conference, or missionary meet 
 ings, or Bible society meetings became for a 
 period not only a household theme, but one 
 which for a time absorbed all others. 
 
 Mrs. Mannors being one of the most regular 
 attendants at class was, of course, among those 
 who remained at Mrs. Baker's little party ; but 
 as she labored under a peculiar spiritual de 
 pression a frequent liability she had the cor 
 responding sympathy of her sisters. With the 
 usual formal recital at class of the trials and 
 temptations and impressions of the week that 
 had just passed, she gave a glowing account 
 of her supposed vision, and her inference as to 
 its appearance being a providential token of 
 spiritual succor to her and her house; and 
 she claimed the prayers of all present on be 
 half of those so near and dear to her. The 
 appeal had its intended effect ; she had the 
 tears of many, and the promise of the affec 
 tionate prayers of all ; and for the time she 
 felt how good it was to be there, and she grew 
 more confident that, where two or three met 
 together in her behalf, the expected blessing 
 would be sure to follow. 
 Mrs. Mannors had another object in view ; 
 
 she expressed a desire to entertain at her 
 house the next junior preacher appointed to 
 the circuit ; she hoped that such a person in 
 social intercourse with her husband might be 
 able to counteract or eradicate die skeptical 
 notions which he unfortunately entertained. 
 As it was, he never attended any place of wor 
 ship ; and as she had failed to influence him, 
 or give his thoughts the direction she desired, 
 she trusted and hoped that the preacher, as 
 a temporary member of the family, might be 
 able to drop a word, time after time, which 
 with the supplication of God's people, might 
 have a good effect. 
 
 " Sister Mannors." said Mrs. Baker, with 
 great earnestness, " I approve of your plan ; 
 and it is most singular that it occurred to 
 you at the present time. Strange, I never 
 thought of telling yon that Mr. Baker was 
 notified by the district chairman that a young 
 preacher would be sent to Hampstead at once, 
 and that if he was found acceptable, the Con, 
 ference might sanction his continuance." Mrs 
 Mannors was delighted with the information 
 and she immediately told her sisters in the 
 faith that she looked upon this intelligence 
 as the first-fruits of her prayers ; and her con 
 fidence in the vision grew stronger than ever. 
 " When do you expect Mr. Baker home ?" 
 she asked eagerly. " Let me sse, he left for 
 the circuit on Wednesday ; he expected to 
 meet the new preacher at brother Moffatt's, 
 and it is likely that he may be here to-mor 
 row evening, or perhaps sooner." 
 
 " This is Friday," observed one of the sis 
 ters ; " Mr. Baker has not been long from 
 home." 
 
 " Indeed, I wish he was away less," replied 
 Mrs. Baker. " I often envy most of you. 
 When you are at home with your family 
 with children and friends I am here mostly 
 alone, and my poor man may be wandering 
 over hill and dale, as the song says. Well, 
 well, I sometimes think that this way of serv 
 ing God is very hard." 
 
 " And so it is, sister," said a member of the 
 class ; " but you know it is a great privilege 
 to be a helpmate to a servant of the Lord ; I 
 often wish that my John had a call. What an 
 advantage to be the wife of a true minister !" 
 " I feel it to be so ; but you must not forget 
 how rebellious we are by nature, and how 
 dissatisfied we are apt to become at times. 
 When I am here alone thinking, I often won 
 der why so much money and labor should be 
 required for the spread of the Gospel why 
 there should be so much running to and fro ; 
 why such crowds of preachers, and why so 
 many voices to make known that which our 
 presumption says ought to be as free as air ; 
 but these are unworthy thoughts. Who can 
 understand the way of the Lord ? 
 
 4 How beauteous are their feet 
 
 Who stand on Zion'8 hill. 
 Who bring salvation on their tongues 
 And words of peace reveal.' 
 
 Oh! this reminds me of the great meeting 
 we shall soon have in Exeter Hall." 
 
 " Exeter Hall '! to be sure," said another 
 in delighted surprise ; " yes, next month, yon 
 know, will bring the anniversary of the great 
 Bible Societv."
 
 18 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 Half a dozen sisters now became most pleas 
 ingly excited, and concentrated a look of in 
 quiry at Mrs. Baker. Mrs. Mannors forgot 
 aught else at the moment, and exclaimed : 
 
 " Yes, that will be a great meeting, that 
 will be a blessed time; eternity alone can tell 
 of the good works of Exeter Hall !" 
 
 " Well," continued Mrs. Baker, " I have 
 heard that our next meeting there is to be 
 something wonderful," and she was now 
 the object of a rapturous stare from all 
 present. " The last time our district chairman 
 was here, he told me that native missionaries, 
 I think he said from a place called Tongata- 
 boo, were expected ; and that a Chief from the 
 Feejees, who but a few months ago was as 
 wild as a Turk, is to appear in his curious 
 dress and with his horrid weapons, and he is 
 to talk to us in his native language." 
 
 " Won't that be interesting ?" said a de 
 lighted sister ; " how I wish they would make 
 him perform one of his war dances ; it would 
 give one an idea of how savage they were by 
 nature." 
 
 " Indeed, it would," replied several. 
 
 "You remember," said Mrs. Baker, "that 
 last year we had a most interesting missionary 
 meeting. I do like them meetings the best ; 
 I almost forget now all the strange things 
 which we heard and saw. Don't you remem 
 ber, sister Mannors, the ugly idols that the 
 black man took out of a bag 'if What a lot of 
 big and little ones there was ! You remember 
 the war-clubs, and the tomahawks, and the 
 horrid scalps, and what the big Indian said 
 about fire water, something worse than vit 
 riol I suppose, and about drinking blood ? I 
 thought it very interesting. What a dread 
 ful state these poor creatures must be in with 
 out the Gospel 1 We must all pray that the 
 chariot wheels of the Lord may move faster. 
 
 ' Lord over all, if thou hast made, 
 Hast ransomed every sonl of man, 
 
 Why IB thy grace so long delayed ? 
 Why unfulfilled the saving plan ? 
 
 The bliss for Adam's race designed 
 When will it reach to all mankind ?' ' 
 
 " Well, it is a mystery why saving grace is 
 BO long delayed, and poor sinners suffered to 
 perish. Lord, hasten thy coming!" 
 
 Just as Mrs. Baker finished speaking, the 
 rattle of wheels was heard at the door ; she 
 hurriedly went toward the window, and ex 
 claimed, " As I live, here is Mr. Baker and the 
 new preacher." 
 
 In a moment Mrs. Mannors and every sister 
 in the room made a rush to the window. 
 Sure enough, there was Mr. Baker, home be 
 fore his expected time, and with him the per 
 son above all others in whom Mrs. Mannors 
 for a special purpose felt most interested. 
 
 " Why, bless me, sister Baker," cried Mrs. 
 Mannors, "but this in providential! Praise 
 the Lord for all his mercies! Who would 
 have thought it ?" And as she quickly rubbed 
 her hands in actual delight in response to the 
 rushing thoughts of sure and certain victory, 
 ehe again exclaimed, "Thisw providential!" 
 
 The sisters stood around as Mr. Baker enter 
 ed ; lie did not come empty-handed. He car 
 ried two baskets, which he said contained pres 
 ents from some of the brethren. The young 
 
 man followed, and was introduced to the assem 
 bled sisters as " Brother Capel." Then, in- 
 deed, there was a shaking of hands. Mrs. 
 Mannors was the very first to dash at the 
 young preacher, and was so rejoiced that were 
 she to have followed the strong impulse which 
 almost controlled her, she would have saluted 
 him with her lips ; as it was, he had a narrow 
 escape, and one might judge from his looks 
 that he actually thought so. The other ladies 
 followed in turn, and on the whole he was, no 
 doubt, not a little surprised at the warmth of 
 his reception and at the number of "mothers 
 in Israel" who were present to meet him. 
 
 It was evident at once that his appearance 
 told much in his favor. He was of middle 
 height, his hair was nearly black and in 
 clined to curl, his eye was dark, but without 
 any vicious ray ; his cheek was red, and its color 
 was now much heightened by his peculiar 
 reception. The expression of his face was 
 mild and pleasing, and though his manner 
 was somewhat diffident, he was sufficiently at 
 ease, even before so many ladies, to reply with 
 readiness to their inquiries. 
 
 Mr. Baker himself was no way surprised at 
 the number present ; he took it as a matter of 
 course ; he knew that the class met at his 
 house on that day, and that Mrs. Baker's so 
 cial afternoons were not few and far between. 
 Indeed, as his wife had no children to take 
 care of. he rather preferred that she should 
 thus enjoy herself in his absence. Although 
 a matter of pounds, shillings, and pence was of 
 as much consequence to him as to most other 
 householders, yet he lost nothing by the hos 
 pitality of his wife ; none of her visitors ever 
 hesitated to bring a parcel of something use 
 ful or necessary in domestic matters, and very 
 often his table was in this way quietly and 
 abundantly replenished, even with tho addi- 
 dition of sundry delicacies so agreeable to the 
 palate of ladies in general. He therefore felt 
 as little discomposed as a man could be under 
 the circumstances ; he rather derived a kind 
 of satisfaction from the knowledge that his 
 wife could make herself the centre and attrac 
 tion of her class. In the most bland and cor 
 dial manner he addressed a few words to each 
 sister, answered some unimportant inquiries, 
 and in a few minutes the ladies resumed their 
 conversation, while Mr. Baker and his friend 
 retired to partake of refreshment. 
 
 The Rev. James Baker l\ad long been a 
 preacher in the Methodist connection. He 
 was now over sixty years of age, nearly thirty 
 of which were spent as an itinerant. lie was 
 a thin, delicate-looking man ; his iron-gray 
 hair and sallow, beardless face, with such a 
 hard, worn expression, might lead one to 
 think that he was an invalid ; but soon as he 
 began to converse on a favorite topic Method 
 ism he would, as it were, warm up, his eye 
 would kindle with a peculiar light, and you 
 could then ]>erceive that he possessed great 
 energy of character, and that sufficient physi 
 cal power was not at all wanting. He was an 
 active, untiring preacher, and went through 
 the laborious duties of his circuit with punctu 
 ality and faithfulness. There was, in his opin 
 ion, nothing equal to Methodism ; it was that 
 alone which could meet the religious require-
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 19 
 
 ments of the age. He did not believe in the 
 efficacy of any system which only required 
 that a modern apostle should preach but on 
 one day of the week and let the other days 
 take care of themselves. Every one, he 
 thought, who had a call to preach, should be 
 at the work as long as he could jret a sinner to 
 stand before him. The Established Church 
 he looked upon as a rapacious monster, burrow 
 ing out the vitality of the Gospel ; and he al 
 ways felt indignant when certain servile 
 prominent Methodist ministers would obsequi 
 ously pander in public to its spiritual lord 
 ships, and assert that the National Church 
 was " the strongest bulwark of our beloved 
 Protestantism." It was, in his opinion, no bet 
 ter than downright popery. 
 
 He had a show of toleration for some of the 
 minor sects ; but he considered Presbyterian- 
 ism as a creed, cold, formal, and lifeless ; moral 
 in its aspect, but deadening in its influence. 
 Methodism was the all in all to him ; lie 
 could dwell for hours on the virtues of " our 
 founder," John Wesley, and he believed that 
 no man since the days of St. Paul ever equaled 
 the curate of Wroote. The Methodist body 
 was, therefore, the " salt of the earth." and its 
 ministers were destined to be the true apostles 
 of the world. On doctrinal points, he was 
 a resolute stickler for Arminian views ; he had 
 a leaning to controversy, in which he was ex 
 pert ; and it always gave him particular pleas 
 ure to harass an opponent into an admission of 
 the scriptural views of the venerable Wesley. 
 
 Such was Mr. Baker as a preacher ; he was 
 unwearied in his work ; and now, as that work 
 was becoming too extended, the timely assis 
 tance of his younger brother in the ministry 
 would be the means of supplying every call 
 on the circuit. Of Mr. Capel he had heard 
 the best accounts. He was recommended as one 
 " holding fast the form of sound words," and 
 who would be an example to believers " in 
 word, in conversation, in charity, in spirit, in 
 faith, in purity ;" he therefore had no doubt 
 but that there would be a great extension of 
 their beloved Methodism ; and that their ef 
 forts to " win souls" would be sure to pros 
 per. 
 
 Mrs. Mannors could not now forget one of 
 the main objects of her visit ; and as soon as 
 an opportunity offered, she made known her 
 desire to Mr. Baker, and he admitted that suc- 
 c -S3 might follow the adoption of her phm ; 
 but he would not be too hopeful. It was, how- 
 over, a peculiar failing of his in common 
 with most Christian ministers that he could 
 n 3ver exercise sutficient patience to contend 
 or even reason with any person of skeptical 
 vijws ; he thought such opinions the best 
 pnv>f of the wickedness and presumption of 
 fie human heart, and that no man who was 
 ir)t b')th vile and stupid could for a moment 
 r-.Vist the overwhelming evidences in favor of 
 divine revelation. He therefore kept aloof 
 from all such persons, doubtful alike of their 
 honor or honesty ; and during the period he 
 had been in charge of his present circuit, he 
 rarely visited Heath Cottage, and scarcely ever 
 addressed Mr. Mannors beyond a few words of 
 ordinary politeness. Upon consideration, how 
 ever, he was pleased with what Mrs. Mannors 
 
 had suggested ; for he had not as yet made 
 arrangements as to where Mr. Capel should 
 find a temporary home during his stay on the 
 circuit. 
 
 The itinerant system of the Methodist re 
 quires that a preacher shall be regular in his 
 ministrations, according to what is called a 
 " plan ;" and in the course of a month the 
 greater part of the time is spent in traveling 
 from place to place, preaching often two or 
 three times a day. The remainder of the 
 period may be spent officiating at or near 
 home ; and during that time, with younger 
 preachers, they are required to attend to certain 
 pr escribed studies preparatory to ordination, 
 which rite is not conferred until about the end 
 of the fourth year from the time of their ad 
 mission as itinerants ; nor are they members 
 of Conference until after that period. 
 
 " My dear sister," said Mr. Baker, " I see 
 no difficulty in making the arrangement. Mr. 
 Capel has left himself, as it were, in my hands, 
 to locate him where I may ; we will speak to 
 him at once, and I have no doubt but that in 
 the course of a few days, if your worthy hus 
 band should not object, you will find him 
 dwelling beneath your roof." 
 
 " You should know, brother," replied Mrs. 
 Mannors with a little warmth, " that I would 
 not have made such a proposal if I anticipated 
 any objection from my husband. To do him 
 j ustice, he does his best in most respects to 
 contribute to my happiness ; he never inter 
 feres with any arrangement I choose to make ; 
 neither does he offer to limit what I may de 
 sire to give for the support of the Gospel. 
 He is truly kind I might almost say good, 
 were it not for his unbelief and I therefore 
 long for his conversion." 
 
 " My opinion is, sister, that your husband 
 has sense enough to know that you are right, 
 and that he is wrong ; were it not for this, he 
 would oppose you. If he were honest in hia 
 convictions, he would resist ; and his conduct 
 toward you is but a plain proof of human de 
 pravity. While he, like many others, boast 
 fully sneers at our faith, there are solemn mo 
 ments when his conscience bids him beware." 
 
 " I know him to be sincere, brother Baker ; 
 no man was ever more true to his belief. In 
 times past, I used to accuse him of a denial of 
 the truth ; I would not do so now ; he speaka 
 what he thinks ; and he still asserts that scarce 
 ly one at the present day can be truly liberal 
 or tolerant who remains bound to any of the 
 principal sects of Christianity. I may profess 
 what I like ; he would not interfere with me 
 if my happiness consisted in a worship of 
 Juggernaut." 
 
 Notwithstanding this generous defense of 
 her husband, Mr. Baker was not convinced. 
 He would never believe that an undisguised 
 skeptic could be a trustworthy person, or 
 a good member of society. He had no more 
 faith in their integrity than he had in the do 
 cility of a wild beast ; nothing but the grace 
 of God could subdue the heart ; and a person 
 who, like Martin Mannors, had, from a pious, 
 patient wife, line upon line, and precept upon 
 precept, and who could after all, in semblance 
 or in reality, successfully resist the prayers of 
 the people of the Lord and the promptings of
 
 20 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 the Divine Spirit was a person to be avoided. 
 With such he desired to have neither inter 
 course nor communication. For this view had 
 he not scriptural precepts ? 
 
 " But though we or an angel from heaven 
 preach any other gospel unto you than that 
 which we have preached unto you, let him be 
 accursed." " If there come any unto you, and 
 bring not this doctrine, receive him not into 
 your house, neither bid him God speed. For 
 he that biddeth him God speed is a partaker 
 of his evil deeds." A person, therefore, like 
 the Rev. James Baker, who thoroughly wor 
 shiped the Bible, could not possibly resist 
 the force of such texts. He was therein told 
 to " beware of dogs," and like a true believer 
 he acted accordingly. 
 
 When the offer of Mrs. Manners was made 
 known to Mr. Capel, he expressed himself 
 quite satisfied ; he was, he said, in the hand 
 of Providence, ready to enter whatever door 
 was opened for him. A few arrangements 
 had yet to be made, and in the course of the 
 following week he would possibly avail him 
 self of her kind and generous proposal. 
 
 Here, indeed, was a consummation ! Who 
 but the Lord, thought good Mrs. Manners, 
 could have brought this thing to pass ? She 
 could now return with renewed hope, and a 
 thought struck her would it not be well that 
 before they departed that evening their closing 
 prayer should be made to the throne of grace 
 on behalf of her unconverted husband ? The 
 proposal was readily accepted ; and after they 
 had nearly all prayed in turn, the closing ap 
 peal was made by Mr. Baker, who, while 
 kneeling erect, with closed eyes and extended 
 arms, and head thrown back, thus concluded 
 his petition : 
 
 " And now, O Lord ! thou knowest how sinful 
 and depraved we are by nature. Thou know 
 est that through the fall of Adam we, his de 
 scendants, are but filth and pollution in thy 
 sight, truly hell-deserving, and only worthy 
 of eternal banishment from thee. In thy 
 sight we are so corrupt that without grace 
 our best actions are but an abomination. But, 
 blessed be thy name, thou hast provided a 
 ransom for us, even in the death of the second 
 Adam. For since by man came death, by man 
 came also the resurrection of the dead ; and 
 now as there is blood upon the mercy-seat, 
 wilt thou not be appeased ? Wilt thou not 
 again, God! stretch forth thy hand and raise 
 Boine dead Lazarus from the tomb ? We plead 
 lor our afflicted sister ; we plead before thee 
 for the conversion of her unbelieving hus 
 band. Lord ! break his stony heart. Un 
 loose the bands of unbelief, and set him free. 
 Set his feet upon the Rock of Ages, and turn 
 his face Zion-ward. For years thou hast borne 
 with his rebellion, and hast not cut him off. 
 For years with unrelenting heart he has de 
 nied thee access, and resisted the drawings of 
 thy Spirit ; and yet he is out of hell, out of 
 that abyss where neither hope nor mercy ever 
 conies. Then spare him, oh ! spare him a little 
 longer. Lengthen thou the day of grace. 
 But if, Lord ! in regard to thy divine justice, 
 thy Spirit has forever taken its flight ; if now 
 he stands like a condemned wretch awaiting 
 the execution of thy sentence, and ready to be 
 
 I hurled over the precipice of destruction when 
 , thy sword falls, and when he is lost forever 
 lost and writhing under thy merited ven 
 geance with the eternal tortures of the damned, 
 when neither sighs, nor tears, nor prayers ; 
 nor sacrifice can move thee again in his be 
 half, then, God! pity, oh! pity our poor 
 afflicted sister ; support her while passing 
 | through the deep waters, but above all things 
 enable her to approach the throne of grace, 
 to be reconciled to thy decision, and to ac 
 knowledge the purity of that justice which 
 overwhelmed thine enemy. Amt-n, amen."* 
 There was a dismal pause, a reeling of awe, 
 a great silence. Mrs. Mannors's heavy sobbing 
 alone fell upon the ears of those kneeling 
 around her, like the tapping of a muffled 
 drum in a solemn dead-march. But even 
 then, if an angel could have lifted the vail of 
 distance, and have exhibited to them the ob 
 ject of their prayerful solicitude, Martin Man 
 ners might be seen with smiling face hand 
 ing bread to a beggar at his gate. Mary nd 
 William could be found close by, and, like 
 their father, following with pitying eye the 
 feeble steps of the old mendicant as he moved 
 slowly away. The setting sun might be seen 
 as if lingering on a distant hill, while part 
 ing beams in fading glory were spread far 
 around. Then if, during the pause, the an 
 gel could have touched the ears of those 
 who had been praying, the mellow voice of 
 Martin Manners could be heard to exclaim as 
 he looked upward into the sunlight, " How 
 beautiful 1 how beautiful !'' and the poor 
 wanderer's blessing would seem to brighten 
 the sunbeam that now rested like an aureola 
 upon the head of his benefactor. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 APTEK Mrs. Manners and the other guests 
 had departed, Mr. Baker and his wife and Mr. 
 Capel sat around the parlor fire. There was 
 a lull in the conversation, and each was look 
 ing in thoughtful s'lence at the few half-con 
 sumed coals that were losing their fierce glow 
 of redness and getting every moment darker 
 and darker. Mr. Baker appeared very reflec 
 tive, as if some mental problem had to be 
 solved, and that he was determined to succeed. 
 The expression of his face changed very often 
 and very suddenly. His lips would be com 
 pressed, and a rapid and peculiar contraction 
 of the brow indicated a struggle of emotions 
 which one might hope was rather unusual. 
 He was now very absent, and apparently lost 
 in a flurry of wild, conflicting ideas. 
 
 Mr. Capel looked at him, as if desirous of 
 making some remark, but he noticed his ab 
 straction at a glance ; he therefore dallied a 
 little longer with his own thoughts, and went 
 hand in hand with memory a long, long dis 
 tance. 
 
 * The charity exhibited in the above clerical prayer 
 is fairly illustrated in an extract taken from ar> Amer 
 ican paper, namely : Rev. Mr. , of 'Obcrlin, Ohio, 
 
 in a recent prayer made the following invocation : ' But 
 how shall I pray for the President '! O Lord 1 if thou 
 canst manage him, without crushing him, spare hin\ 
 Otherwise, crush him I 1 '
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 21 
 
 But the silence was suddenly broken. " Be 
 ye not unequally yoked together with unbe 
 lievers : for what fellowship hath righteous 
 ness with unrighteousness? and what com 
 munion hath light with darkness? and what 
 concord hath Christ with Belial ? or what part 
 hath he that believeth with an infidel ?" "Yes," 
 said Mr. Baker, " that woman is deceived ; she 
 has been unequally yoked, yet she would now 
 shield and even hope for a blasphemer that 
 openly denies the Lord who bought him. I 
 can not and will not forever sympathize with 
 her ; she still clings to a wretch that may yet 
 drag her down with him to deserved perdition." 
 The preacher spoke with his teeth almost 
 clenched, and the nails of his fingers were 
 buried in the soft palm of his tightly shut 
 hand. 
 
 Mr. Capel gave another earnest look at his 
 superintendent : and his eye turned immediate 
 ly from the dark frown that met his view. The 
 individual before him was almost completely 
 changed from what he had been a short time 
 previously. The seemingly courteous Christian 
 was now a bitter, vindictive accuser, and the 
 zeal of intolerance and persecution flashed in 
 his eager eye. His last prayer, uttered so af- 
 fectiugly, had brought tears from almost every 
 one present ; but with him, to make such an 
 appeal was a ministerial faculty. He could 
 raise his supplicating voice and make others 
 weep ; and, strange to say, could at such mo 
 ments even weep himself : yet his own heart 
 would not be affected ; while his face was 
 bathed in tears, that very heart could be as 
 cold and as hard as iron. 
 
 "She need not tell me," he continued, "of 
 his honor or his honesty ; he is a deceiver, 
 base and black as the father of lies, and the 
 poison of his vile tongue will yet bring many 
 to eternal ruin. It is hard to pray for such 
 an enemy. Would it not be better for the 
 church of God that a visitation swift, sudden, 
 and destructive should bury such an apostate 
 in his own sin, and be another signal warn 
 ing to tlie black brood of scoffers increasing 
 around us ? Would it not be better that some 
 of the vile sneering herd should remain de 
 ceived and be swept away, rather than that 
 they should remain to delude others with eter 
 nal misery ? 
 
 " ' For this cause God shall send them a strong 
 delusion that they should believe a lie. That 
 they all might be damned who believed not the 
 truth, but had pleasure in unrighteousness.' " 
 
 " Brother," continued Mr. Baker, "you have 
 a curious mission before you. Your prayers 
 must be divided between a believer and an 
 unbeliever. You must become a practiced 
 hand in dealing out spiritual sympathy to sis 
 ter Manners, while you have daily to confront 
 the infidel 'blasphemies of her sneering hus 
 band. What do you think of that? She, poor 
 simpleton! imagines that you may be able to 
 influence a man who would deny the bread of 
 life even to his own children who would 
 leave their minds a perfect blank as to relig 
 ion. Reason with him, indeed ! why, he is and 
 has been all reason, and philosophy, and com 
 mon sense ever since I knew him ; yet these 
 worldly-wise-isms only leave him more delud 
 ed, and a still more furious and determined 
 
 scoffer at the truth. You will find none more 
 plausible ; he thinks that by a show of liber 
 ality his sin can be overlooked ; it miglrt be, 
 were it only to bring destruction (i himself; 
 but look at the pernicious influence ot his 
 teaching, for I have heard, alas! that some 
 have een fallen away from grace, and have 
 become confirmed backsliders through his vile 
 but honeyed words. Talk of education and en 
 lightenment and progress! would it not be 
 better for the souls of men that gross ignorance 
 of all othei things should prevail, rather 
 than that the world should be depraved with 
 that scum of modern reasoning Infidelity? 
 Would it not be better that all secular know 
 ledge, and science, and high sounding philoso 
 phy, should be completely lost to man, rathei 
 than that the knowledge of the true God 
 should be forgotten in the vain rush after the 
 flighty speculations of modern science? As 
 soon as we are so weak and uncertain as to 
 submit our glorious gospel light and oui 
 blessed faith to scientific investigation ; as 
 soon as we submit faith to reason, or allow 
 our confidence in divine inspiration to waver 
 in the least, so soon may we close the Bible 
 forever, and let the enemy of souls have full 
 sway." 
 
 Mr. Baker here stood up and commenced 
 to pace the room. He had gradually evoked a 
 feeling of Christian indignation. The very 
 thought of presumptuous opposition to what 
 he deemed the inspired word embittered his 
 spirit to such an extent as to make him al-. 
 most ready to consent that another fire should 
 be kindled in Smithfield, rather than Protes 
 tant truth should suffer. Unknown even to 
 himself, intolerance was here doing its work 
 in the mind of one who claimed to have been 
 regenerated ; and James Baker, who had a 
 strong belief that he was chosen and called 
 to preach a "gospel of peace," might now be 
 easily induced to plant a stake and kindle a 
 faggot or buckle on a weapon verily a sword 
 of the spirit and become at last, like a thou 
 sand others of his calling, a fierce persecutor. 
 
 "Jam*s,"said Mrs. Baker quietly, "I fear 
 that you allow the carnal feeling to govern 
 your words sometimes. Would you become 
 the avenger of the Lord ? Would you ask 
 assistance from Satan to put down unbelief? 
 If God is willing that some should be de 
 ceived, or if he is willing to exercise patience 
 and long suffering with such as are puffed up 
 in their own vain imaginations, shall man do 
 less ? We have been furnished with weapons 
 for the enemies of the Gospel that the Evil 
 One will never use weapons that are sure to 
 overcome. Have we not prayer and faith 1" 
 
 " Very true, wife, very true. I admit that 1 
 am sometimes rash ; but when I think of the 
 labor I undergo for the spread of Bible truth; 
 when I think of what is sacrificed in missions ; 
 when I think of the years which I and others 
 have spent in the ministry, calling sinners to 
 repentance, and then, may be, when we fancy 
 our harvest is ready, in rushes some midnight 
 plunderer and destroys our prospects. It is 
 perhaps wrong to be too impatient in such 
 matters; but who can justly tolerate crime? 
 Yes, patience may be necessary ; but who can 
 submit to the presumption of gross, palpable
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 error? I can not hep believing that our pre 
 sent laws are far too lenient ; the faith should 
 be more rigidly upheld ; there should be some 
 determined stop put to the open dissemina 
 tion of pagan error; there should be some 
 stern, ' Thus far shall thou go and no further.' 
 Our nation can not surely prosper while wicked 
 men are allowed to beguile others away from 
 the truth. Reason and liberalism are now 
 rampant all over the land, despoiling the pious 
 efforts of centuries. They must be tramped 
 out. To be plain, if coercion is necessary to 
 enforce the laws of erring mi n, how much 
 more requisite is it thus to enforce the man 
 dates of a just and jealous God 1 Are we not 
 liable to incur his divine wrath by our apathy, 
 our forbearance, or our so-called toleration?" 
 
 "My dear brother," said Mr. Capel, "let 
 the wicked man and the scoffer and the wcr- 
 shiper of the glory of this world remain in 
 the fortress of their own strength. The Lord 
 has promised to conquer all his adversaries, 
 and he will do so in his own good time. Has 
 he not said that 'kings shall fall down be 
 fore him,' and that ' all nations shall serve 
 him'? and have we not an abundance of 
 precious promises in his word of how he is to 
 overcome the world, and does he not bid us to 
 be of ' good cheer'? Then , brother, let us wait ; 
 we have our allotted work to perform ; let us be 
 faithful, and God will not be forgetful of his 
 waiting saints. The Lord still says, ' I have 
 sworn by myself ; the word is gone out of my 
 mouth in righteousness and shall not return, 
 that unto me every knee shall bow, every 
 tongue shall swear.' With these blessed 
 words, who can doubt ? Let the heathen rage, 
 and let the world scorn us as it may, what is 
 erring.presumptuousman before Omnipotence? 
 He says, ' Ask of me, and I shall give thee the 
 heathen for thine inheritance, and the utter 
 most parts of the earth for thy possession.' 
 ' Thou shalt break them with a rod of iron ; 
 thou shalt dash them in pieces like a potter's 
 vessel." ' Evil doers shall be cut off; but 
 those that wait upon the Lord shall inherit 
 the earth.' These are assurances that should 
 make us patient. I have no fear, brother ; a 
 good work will yet be accomplished, and truth 
 must prevail." 
 
 Mr. Baker already felt that he had shown 
 symptoms of indiscreet zeal before his co- 
 worker. He now appeared more satisfied. 
 He was again reassured, and his wonted confi 
 dence returned. He was much pleased with 
 Mr. Capel's words and modest remarks, and, 
 like him, he was again willing to trust in the 
 Lord rather than in the arm of flesh. 
 
 " Brother," said he, " I have been in the 
 vineyard of the Lord for a long time. I have 
 often witnessed the closing scenes of life and 
 the final triumph of many of the people of 
 God. I have seen them, while languishing in 
 their Inst moments, bear witness for the truth. 
 Then, again. I have seen men once strong in 
 the faith fall oh ! to what a depth and 
 pass away forever in the whirlwind of un 
 belief. How mysterious are the dealings of 
 the Almighty I Why are millions still left in 
 darkness to perish for lack of knowledge? 
 Why is unbelief yet allowed to prevail? 
 Why are not all saved? What a number of 
 
 enemies we have around us ! What traitors 
 we meet on all sides ! And those we have most 
 to dread profess to belong to the household of 
 faith, to believe in the written word, yet bring 
 it into contempt. Alas! how the infidel can 
 laugh at Christianity. Crowds of believers, 
 and crowds contending for forms and cere 
 monies and precedence. Rome anathematiz 
 ing England, and England gloating over the 
 degradation of Rome one desiring to usurp 
 over the other. The so-called Christian 
 church is a mystery to many. Who are its 
 members. Are the numerous sects which bit 
 terly denounce each other deserving of that 
 distinction ? Are the emissaries of the Po 
 pish system of delusion and superstition to be 
 acknowledged as such ? Should the credu 
 lous slaves of its Greek sister be set down as 
 members? What are we to call those who 
 allow the rapacious apostles of our wealthy 
 Church Establishment to rule over them ? 
 Shall we include as members all who cling to 
 Presbyterian morality and its election and 
 reprobation ? How are we to designate the 
 exclusionists of close communion and immer 
 sion ? What are Unitarians, and Trinitarians, 
 and Quakers, and Dunkers, and Universalists, 
 and the fifty other sects to be called ? Who 
 are the real exponents of the true faith ? 
 There are sectaries of every degree, many of 
 whom have in turn routed and persecuted 
 each other, all claiming to be members of the 
 true church, yet nearly all differing widely in 
 what many of them deem essentials. We 
 may talk as we like about unity of spirit. 
 Some think there may be unity in diversity, 
 and diversity in unity; but experience goes to 
 prove disunity in contending bodies, and a 
 leaven of bitter jealousy working through 
 the whole. The Evangelical Alliance prom 
 ised great things at Exeter Hall ; but where is 
 the fulfillment ? And what is our own Metho 
 dism ? it is not at the present day what it 
 once was, the most scriptural of all systems. 
 It is not, alas ! what it ought to be. Look, 
 brother, at our asjiiring men, and at our con- 
 nectional hankering and ambition. Our Con 
 ference is aiming for power and influence, and 
 wishes to make its oft assumed authority felt 
 and recognized outside of its own proper lim 
 its. I feel that Methodism is iast drifting 
 down to worloliness, and that it will soon be 
 another synonym for pomp and vanity. It8 
 love for money is unspeakable." 
 
 "My dear," replied Mis. Eaker, "we all 
 know that it is impossible for us to rend the 
 heart; God alone can do that. At- piling men 
 have no doubt entered among us, and have 
 caused heart-burnings and divisions ; but 
 when we know that Satan himself will some 
 times appear like an angel of light to gain hie 
 own ends, when we find pretended friends 
 in our midst, our duty then is to be more faith 
 ful ourselves. Methodism is God's right hand 
 in the salvation of men ; it is a rock of 
 strength: though it has enemits within and 
 without, and though many on the side of 
 Church and dissent would unite to-morrow for 
 its downfall, let us not fear, but say 
 
 * Come, glorious Lord, the rebels ppnrn; 
 Scatter thy foes, victorious King ;
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 23 
 
 And Gath and Askelon shall mourn, 
 And all the sons of God shall sing. 1 
 
 " Well, let them rejoice when it happens. 
 No doubt Satan would rejoice over the down 
 fall of our beloved Wesleyanism also. Yes, 
 wife, I know some of those spouting Protes 
 tants rank dissenters, too who profess to be 
 ready to join hands with us for the conversion 
 of wild Indians, or for a crusade against Eng 
 lish or Romish Popery, and who, under the 
 pretense of Christian love, will meet and coun 
 sel and pray with us, and who yet would at the 
 Bame time give us a stab in the dark if a 
 chance offered. Yes, I know them ; they will 
 fraterni/.o with us on a public platform, they 
 will make great speeches about the poor 
 heathen, and about missions, and Bibles, and 
 tracts, and temperance, and all that, but, 
 bless you ! they are merely acting they hate 
 us. When religious teachers enter our pul 
 pits and dissemble to such an extent, what 
 can we expect from Papists and unbelievers? 
 A worthy old brother once whispered to me, 
 when we were seated together on a missionary 
 platform, and after we had heard some fine 
 speeches and a great display of liberal senti 
 ments from the reverend representatives of 
 various hostile denominations who took part 
 on the occasion, ' Brother,' said he, ' I thought 
 I knew these men, but I see every man has 
 a mask, and puts it on before he addresses the 
 people.' He had them that time." 
 
 Just then there was a rap at the door and a 
 note was handed in for Mr. Baker. He tore 
 it open at once, and after looking at it a mo 
 ment read aloud : 
 
 " A meet ing of the Hampstead Branch Bible 
 Society will be held, God willing, in the 
 Baptist Church on Tuesday evening next. 
 The chair will be taken precisely at half-past 
 seven o'clock. A full attendance is requested 
 in order to select delegates and to make other 
 preparatory arrangements in view of the 
 great anniversary meeting to be held next 
 month at Exeter Hall." 
 
 When Mr. Baker read this little epistle, he 
 closed his left eye and looked down thought 
 fully at the floor, which he patted smartly at 
 the same time with his foot. After a few sec 
 onds' cogitation, he spoke very slowly, as if to 
 himself: " In the Baptist Church, on Tuesday 
 evening next very, very sharp practice 
 very." The words fell from his lips as separate 
 and distinct as if there were no possible connec 
 tion between them as if he had been merely 
 practicing an elocutionary utterance. 
 
 " Now, brother," said Mr. Baker, recovering 
 himself, " here is a nice little plot, dexterously 
 managed and arranged, to keep us as a body 
 in the background ; and I think we are also 
 indebted to the supinen^ss and extra liberality j 
 of some of our wise mi mbers for such a very 
 agreeable invitation, if this is not a happy 
 illustration of the sectarian jealousy which 
 we were just deploring, it is a very forcible 
 one, and not at all pleasant to my fee' ings. I 
 can see. through it. They have made a cat's 
 paw of the Baptists to put the Methodists on 
 the shelf that's it. I understand the manosu- 
 vre. I can see the Presbyterian finger in the 
 pie just as plainly as I can see that table. If 
 you want a plotter of the right kind, give me 
 
 one of your moral, smooth-faced Free-Church 
 men, one who wears a continual smile, just as 
 attractive to some as the glitter of a serpent's 
 eye to a foolish bird. A first-class wire-puller 
 always smiles; he wears an appearance of 
 great candor, but he always keeps in the 
 background and will not show his hand if he 
 can help it. He holds the wires ; for instance, 
 he pulls one for the Baptists, and another for 
 the Independents, and one for some other sect 
 or creature willing to fall in with the rest ; 
 and this is what we find the R'iv. Andrew 
 Campbell of the Free Church has just been 
 doing. He has burrowed pretty deep and 
 thinks to hide himself ; but I will unearth Mm, 
 and that before he is aware of it." 
 
 And Mr. Baker rubbed his hands in eager 
 anticipation of a brush with his reverend an 
 tagonist. 
 
 " Brother Capel," he continued, "here is a 
 plain case of jealousy and dissembling on the 
 part of a man who claims to be the pastor of a 
 most exemplary body of Presbyterians. Last 
 year, a minister of our Society was appointed 
 a delegate to represent our Branch Bible So 
 ciety at Exeter Hall. There were murmurs 
 as usual from several of Mr. Campbell's people, 
 and from some others who are always grum 
 bling at the Methodists, but he, worthy man 1 
 appeared to be quite satisfied ; indeed he said 
 he would not have selected any other person 
 were the choice left to himself. So far, so 
 good ; but in the course of a few weeks, a ru 
 mor was heard in one place- and in another 
 that the Methodists had succeeded in getting 
 the meeting held in their own church, and 
 that by force of numbers a Methodist dele 
 gate had been chosen to display his eloquence 
 on the platform at Exeter Hall. After a little 
 inquiry, I traced this report direct to the Rev 
 erend man himself; there was no chance for 
 his escape. And you may judge of my aston 
 ishment when he told me to my face at a com 
 mittee meeting that it was every word true ; 
 that he never denied having said so, and that 
 I and my adherents on all occasions tried to 
 monopolize certain positions before the public 
 to the exclusion of better men. When he told 
 me this, he looked no more shame-faced than a 
 parson who was pocketing tithes. With such 
 a man, it was useless to waste words. It 
 would be very unseemly to contend witli him 
 before a committee. I withdrew as soon as I 
 conveniently could, and I have never met him 
 since." 
 
 " The feeling that Mr. Campbell has toward 
 us," said Mrs. Baker, "has influenced many 
 others with whom we were formerly on terms 
 of friendship. For instance, but a short way 
 from this house there are two maiden sisters 
 residing ; they used to visit us very often, and 
 we frequently went together on missionary 
 tours and on tract collections. They were 
 never, to be sure, very warm toward us as a so 
 ciety, but, they never made any unkind re 
 marks ; they are, however, members of Mr. 
 Campbell's congregation, and since th occur 
 rence at the committee meeting they have 
 never entered our door, and if I happen to meet 
 them at a Dorcas meeting or at any other place, 
 they merely give me a formal bow. Why, 
 bless you 1 I never thgught people could be so
 
 24 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 uncharitable as we now find many of the Bap 
 tists and Presbyterians." 
 
 " And what is worse," urged Mr. Baker, 
 "after the discreditable conduct of Campbell, 
 I tried to keep the matter as quiet as possible. 
 I did not wish to let it be known around that 
 a number of professing Christians who had 
 met in order to devise ways and means for the 
 circulation of the Scriptures had, at such a 
 meeting, a fierce altercation among themselves. 
 1 said as little as I could about it ; but the fol 
 lowing week out comes the Evangelist, the 
 newspaper or organ of the Presbyterian body, 
 with a communication denouncing the ' shab 
 by tricks' (this was the expression) ''of a cer 
 tain Methodist preacher, whom it did not 
 name, and the hypocritical rabble that follow 
 ed at his heels,' and then it went on retailing 
 the current scandal about the appointment of 
 a delegate. To this, I sent a contradictory re 
 ply, with certain explanations which I trusted 
 would not be offensive ; but back came my 
 manuscript ; they would not insert any thing I 
 had written ; and now to this day we have the 
 greatest trouble to keep up appearances and 
 prevent another outbreak more scandalous 
 than the last. You know in the course of the 
 year there are many occasions on which we 
 have to meet. Protestants of all denomina 
 tions, with the exception of the High Church 
 party, profess to unite their efforts at Bible 
 meetings and tract meetings, and for other 
 objects of common interest ; but lately I find 
 it hard work to keep my temper among them, 
 and Vere it not that scoffers might triumph I 
 would enjoy far more peace of mind by stay 
 ing at home, like our pious, prudent friend, 
 the Rev. Andrew Campbell." 
 
 " Scenes like this you have described," said 
 Mr. Capel, " I am sorry to say, have been wit 
 nessed in other places than this neighborhood. 
 The very first year I was on a circuit we had 
 a difficulty nearly in the same way with the 
 New Connection Methodists : 1 hope never to 
 witness the like again. What happemd 
 there was a scandal to the whole church for 
 months afterward; I would be ashamed to 
 mention even now all that occurred." 
 
 " You need not tell me, brother ; I think I 
 know it just as well as if it was written for 
 me : but I tell you now that before you are 
 much older, yon are likely to be present at a 
 scene which may altogether surpass any you 
 have yet witnessed. We shall see whether 
 this sleek, jealous, undermining calumniator 
 can do as he pleases, even protected as he will 
 be by the streaming walls of a Baptist Con 
 venticle. He no doubt has had every Presby 
 terian and Baptist and Congregationalist with 
 in his reach warned to attend ; but we can 
 play the same game, and in a way that will 
 open their eyes and make their lank faces a 
 little longer. We are as numerous as they 
 are altogether, and I think that between this 
 and Tuesday, we can get a sufficient number 
 of our friends to vote down any hostile resolu 
 tion, and turn the tables on them. What do 
 you say, brother? Don't you think we can 
 succeed ?" 
 
 Mr. Capel was very reluctant to give an 
 opinion ; the very idea of another scene was 
 not relished by him. He did not wish to anti 
 
 cipate trouble ; but it was plain to him that Mr 
 Baker was determined to enter a contest and 
 to drag him into it also. How was he to es 
 cape from this? The thought of going to a 
 public meeting called for the ostensible pur 
 pose of promoting the circulation of the word 
 of God, and then and there to enter into all 
 the arrangements for a display of sectional 
 strife and unholy disunion, was painful ; it 
 was actually to descend from liis position as a 
 preacher of peace to fraternize with men 
 who gave way to angry feelings. He was verv 
 much perplexed. In the short period of hie 
 ministerial career, he had had sufficient proof 
 of the bitterness and animosity that existed 
 between sects. It was to him astonishing how 
 preachers and people loudly boasting of a re 
 ligion of peace and love, preaching about the 
 " unity of the spirit," quoting texts about the 
 " bonds of peace," and almost forever talking 
 and writing and preaching about humility and 
 harmony and brotherly love, and spending 
 time and money in the circulation of an in 
 spired book which was said to be sufficient to 
 enlighten all to the way of virtue, and to make 
 " the wolf and the lamb feed together, and 
 the lion eat straw like a bullock," and yet 
 to find these very people who were always 
 pitying and rebuking the heathen and the un 
 believing and the ungodly, as willing and as 
 ready on certain occasions to indulge hatred, 
 engage in strife, and harbor malice as the veri 
 est barbarian ! He often wondered at the pomp 
 ous and expensive display of physical force 
 material by Christian nations and people, and 
 of their readiness for battle and murder. He 
 contrasted certain acts of so-called pious mon- 
 archs the profuse shedding of human blood 
 with those of the rulers of even idolatrous 
 people, and in nearly all cases he was forced 
 to decide against the cruelty of Christian po 
 tentates, and to admit the many proofs of the 
 superior spirit and humanity of imperial 
 heathenism the superiority of a Julian to a 
 Constantino. But to think that the " people 
 of God" should, by " anger and clamor and evil- 
 speaking," degrade themselves even below 
 those that knew not the Lord nor his word ; to 
 think that those who openly professed re 
 generation should by controversial brawls 
 strengthen the position of the scoffer, was to 
 him incomprehensible. He therefore did not 
 wish to attend such a meeting ; but how was 
 he to escape ? 
 
 " I will tell you what I think," said Mr. Ca 
 pel, after some reflection. " I would far rather 
 let these people have their own way than that 
 we should follow in their footsteps and assist 
 in perpetuating strife. Of what consequence 
 is it to us whether a Methodist or a Baptist or an 
 Independent is chosen as a delegate? The 
 great cause of Christianity will not suffer, or 
 be more benefited one way or other by the re 
 sult. I therefore think that our wisest plan 
 will be, to let things take their own course at 
 the meeting, and no doubt a greater good 
 will eventually result." 
 
 " See here, brother Capel," replied Mr. Baker, 
 with assumed calmness, " such sentiments 
 may do very well with persons who are real 
 and true Christians ; the course you advise 
 might then be most proper toward such a
 
 EXETER HALL, 
 
 25 
 
 ; but remember with whom we have to 
 treat, men who are continually endeavoring 
 to bring our church and our discipline into 
 disrepute, who are madly jealous of our suc 
 cess, and who now try to lessen us in the esti 
 mation of the world. 
 
 " No ; in this matter we must have our own 
 way, we must fight them with their own weap 
 ons ay, fight ; the strongest will be sure to 
 win ;" and Mr. Baker quickly snapped his 
 large bony fingers in defiance. 
 
 " Well, as for myself, brother Baker, I am 
 but a stranger here yet, and I would not like 
 to make my first appearance as a partisan. 
 If, however, you think it right for me to attend, 
 I will do so ; but it will be rather to throw oil 
 on the troubled waters, should any arise, than 
 allow sectarian distrust and alienation to 
 grow stronger. It may be after all, brother, 
 that these people will give us no cause to 
 complain." 
 
 " Indeed. I hope not. It would be a great 
 satisfaction^ very agreeable disappointment, 
 were I to discover that a better feeling ex 
 isted ; but I have little hope of that. I know 
 them, and I know that the Calvinistic crowd 
 will show their dark faces for a certainty. 
 Yes, I am doubtful of Campbell, and, as you 
 already know, not without cause. And, friend 
 Capel, you must recollect that at the present 
 day, when we find outsiders and the uncon 
 verted attracted toward a religious body as 
 much on account of its reputed standing and 
 influence and popularity even by the size 
 and grandeur of its churches as by its in 
 trinsic piety or merit, we must be on the look 
 out, and, in a worldly sense, catch all we can. 
 We must not allow our denominational inter 
 ests to suffer through a sentimental diffidence, 
 or a reluctance to enter the field as competi 
 tors. For a denominational prize, I will not 
 shirk enrollment as a gladiator, not I ; Greek 
 to Greek, our church against all others. 
 But, brother, we will talk this matter over to 
 morrow ; it is now getting late, and after a 
 word of prayer we will retire." 
 
 When Mr. Capel was left alone that night, 
 a multitude of thoughts crowded upon him, 
 and seemed to overturn each other in their 
 struggle for precedence. He felt unnerved by 
 an utter feeling of loneliness and despondency. 
 He had but lately left his native country, Ire 
 land, and was now for the first time among 
 people comparatively unknown to him. His 
 father had been dead for several years, and he 
 had seen within the last fifteen months the re 
 mains of his brother and mother conveyed to 
 the silent grave ; he had now scarcely a rela 
 tive living, and was here thrown among 
 strangers to follow a line of life not altogether 
 in accordance with his own feelings, but more 
 out of a dutiful compliance with the earnest 
 and affectionate desires of a pious mother. 
 Previous to her death, he had traveled nearly 
 a year on a circuit near the city of Cork, in Ire 
 land ; and he had recently been advised by cer 
 tain friends to offer his services to the English 
 Conference. He came highly recommended, 
 and the district chairman being anxious to 
 supply the wants of a few places on the out 
 
 skirts of London sent Mr. Capel for a few 
 months under the superintendence of Mr 
 Baker until the next meeting of Conference 
 No wonder then that his thoughts came fast, 
 and that, from what he had just heard, he waa 
 nearly bewildered with strange ideas about 
 contending sects and inconsistent teachers ; 
 about the sordid and unholy motives which 
 seemed to actuate preachers as well as people. 
 He was surprised at the vehemence of Mr. 
 Baker, with whom he had but lately become 
 acquainted. He thought of the strange mis 
 sion that was to be imposed on him by a re 
 sidence at Heath Cottage, and he tried to 
 faricy what kind of a person Martin Mannors 
 could be, of whom Mr. Baker spoke so bitter 
 ly of whose impure and dangerous senti 
 ments he had heard so much. Already he be 
 gan to feel a distaste for his mission, and a 
 prejudice against a person whom he had never 
 yet seen, and whom it was expected he might 
 enlighten. 
 
 But his own heart told him that such a pre 
 judice was unfair, unmanly, and unjust, and 
 he tried to banish the feeling with all hia 
 might. He disliked controversy, particularly 
 when called upon to combat opinions against 
 divine revelation. He could not rely upon, 
 his own strength with a wily adversary. He 
 never doubted scriptural truth ; but even to 
 him, as well as to others, there were things in 
 the Bible hard to be understood, but which 
 he believed would be made plain "in the 
 great day of the Lord." He felt a deep sym 
 pathy for Mrs. Mannors ; and in humble confi 
 dence would strive to remove the mountain 
 of unbelief that overshadowed her dwelling. 
 He would simply do his best to establish di 
 vine truth ; and if he failed, God would not 
 judge hm for neglect. He would take up this 
 cross ; and if he succeeded, would he not bring 
 happiness to one home, and would not his 
 mother in heaven rejoice with the vast as 
 sembly of saints at the repentance of a sin 
 ner, and whose conversion he might after 
 ward claim as a seal to his ministry ? 
 
 The mild moon was shining through his 
 window as he looked out, and her soft, sympa 
 thizing light brought back the most tender 
 recollections. Memory presented its fairest 
 pictures, and the dim scene in the distance waa 
 changed in imagination to his own still loved 
 home. He heard his mother's evening hymn, 
 and again he saw his little fired brother sit 
 sleeping by her side. In imagination he stood 
 once more upon the pleasant banks of the 
 river Lee, and wandered away among the 
 green meadows by its margin ; he saw the 
 well known tall trees, and their long shadows 
 on its shining water. He looked again ; but 
 that home had faded with the past ; the dear 
 ones had fled, and the pure love of that moth 
 er's eye would be seen no more forever. In 
 his dreams, that night he again heard the 
 sweet sounds of the Bells of Shandon, and 
 again he saw the waters of the pleasant riv 
 er ; but before he awoke, he was once more 
 standing and weeping by his mother's grave, 
 hand in hand with his tired brother, in the 
 old churchyard of St. Finn Bar.
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE church in which the Rev. Andrew 
 Campbell officiated was situated on the high 
 road between London and Hampstead, rather 
 closer to the city. Indeed, speaking more cor 
 rectly, it might be said to be within the sub 
 urbs* which every year stretch out farther and 
 farther. His pastoral charge, however, includ 
 ed a very extensive district and extended to the 
 north as far as Hampstead. The church was 
 therefore in a central situation, and was very 
 convenient not only for the regular ministra 
 tions, but for the occasional transaction of 
 other matters affecting the interests of the de 
 nomination to which it belonged. It was also 
 a very suitable place for clerical reunions, and 
 for small private meetings of such of the 
 ministers, elders, and deacons of other reli 
 gious bodies as understood each other, and who 
 were prepared to fraternize and form a com 
 pact against the encroachments of a sectarian 
 enemy. At these quiet conventions, a great 
 many plans were matured, and when any im 
 portant object was to be attained, a special 
 meeting could be easily held at the shortest 
 notice. 
 
 In old times, to be sure, before the establish 
 ment of Methodism, the Presbyterians in and 
 about London formed a very strong body of 
 Christians, who, with the additional force of 
 other dissenters and non-conformists were often 
 very successful in their attacks on the proud 
 pretensions of the Episcopal Church. For 
 many years, the united efforts of these bodies 
 were mainly directed against the Establish 
 ment, which, like a leviathan, was confident 
 of its own strength, and satisfied with its en 
 vied position as a national institution. But in 
 the course of time, when Methodism raised its 
 head and became a power on the earth, a " lit 
 tle horn which waxed exceeding great," those 
 bodies discovered in it an insidious and danger 
 ous intruder ; one most likely to attract the 
 common people, and, therefore, more to be 
 feared than the old State Church which was 
 fast losing ground in popular affection. The 
 great policy of the Church Establishment 
 eeemed to be the acquisition of wealth and po 
 litical power, and as long as that object was 
 secured, it was not of so much importance as 
 to the number Saf its adherents ; wealth and 
 power will always attract followers enough to 
 secure for the grossest usurpation and tyran 
 ny a spurious popularity. As long as the 
 church had the monarch and a majority of the 
 nobility and great men of the nation, and as 
 long as its status of superiority was legally ac 
 knowledged, the English hierarchy were quite 
 indifferent as to the clamorings of disappoint 
 ed and disaffected aspirants. 
 
 But Methodism was a power that made it- 
 Belf felt. From small beginnings, it gradu 
 ally grew and gained strength ; stooping to 
 conquer, and leaving nothing undone to gain 
 the multitude. At last it strode out like a 
 pampered giant, lifting in its brawny arms first 
 the poor and illiterate, then impulsive working 
 men and traders, then the more intelligent 
 and worldly wise class above class until 
 
 finally, bearing its head aloft, it entered with 
 stately step the palace of the people, and 
 placed its representatives on the floor of the 
 imperial parliament. 
 
 This was a power, then, to be dreaded. In 
 little more than a century, from an insignifi 
 cant sect it had gained such a footing in Bri 
 tain as to leave nearly all other denominations 
 completely in the shade. Churches that for 
 centuries had stood the successive assaults of 
 Popery and Prelacy now became more and 
 more forsaken and desolate ; and the once popu 
 lar preachers of the metropolis had often to de 
 liver their lengthy and somniferous expositions 
 to bare walls and empty seats, while Wesley 
 and Whitfield were followed from place to 
 place, and could only accommodate increasing 
 and excited multitudes by winning them to 
 Christ under the great cathedral vault of 
 heaven. 
 
 It was difficult, indeed, for ordinary human 
 nature to stand this. It was not easy to feel 
 indifferent, and see your household scattered ; 
 to see the children you had nurtured and 
 trained from lisping infancy leave you in 
 their sturdy manhood, and give to strangers 
 the comfort and support to which you consid 
 ered yourself entitled by the natural ties of 
 spiritual consanguinity. 
 
 But, it might be said, what difference did it 
 make, if the children about whom you were 
 so anxious were now receiving an abundance 
 of every thing necessary, and were plentifully 
 supplied with bread of a better quality than 
 that perhaps which you yourself had to offer ; 
 what difference did it make if you were desi 
 rous to start them in life with a certain 
 amount of capital, and that another person 
 came forward and generously granted them a 
 sum greater than your limited means could 
 insure what was the difference ? 
 
 This mode of reasoning might satisfy some, 
 but if you were doubtful of the quantity of 
 nutriment your children were getting ; if you 
 were dissatisfied as to the quality of bread, 
 or had discovered by your own testing that it 
 contained a subtle poison which would pro 
 duce drivelling idiocy, or a desire lor death ; 
 or if you believed that instead of their being 
 the recipients of a liberal allowance, they 
 were but meagrely fed, and while busy, la 
 boring, handed to strangers the wages of 
 their toil which you needed so much yourself; 
 if you saw this, and could see your children 
 pass you, and even disown you, would there 
 not be a feeling of resentment against the 
 obtruder ? 
 
 It was from this stand-point that Methodism 
 was j udged by the older sects to which the 
 people were once so much attached ; and it 
 required more grace and patience than had 
 yet been bestowed to become reconciled to 
 the rule of such specious pretenders. 
 
 Policy, however, demanded great caution in 
 making an attack on a system which had al 
 ready obtained such a hold on the populai 
 mind ; the approaches should be made with 
 secrecy. It would not do to array powerful 
 texts, and openly denounce its anti-scriptural 
 teachings with regard to election and predes 
 tination and backsliding ; it would not do tc 
 speak too rudely about its unlearned preach
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 27 
 
 ere and their noisy harangues, their pulpit 
 shouting, or their wild, absurd, and maddening 
 protracted meetings. Religion has at all 
 times best succeeded when the feelings were 
 enlisted in its favor ; and if the Methodists 
 were so eminently successful by sucli strate 
 gy, a reserve in denouncing their peculiar 
 mode might be most prudent. In the course 
 of time, the most excitable people would begin 
 to reason, and reason would bring reflection, 
 and reflection, even in such matters, might 
 bring common sense. If a man becomes infat 
 uated, it is not always the best way to set him 
 right by force of ridicule ; opportunities would 
 arise when a blow could be struck without 
 observation ; there was even then a Metho 
 dist schism, several branches had been lopped 
 off the parent tree, and the disinterested 
 hand of apparent sympathy might be extend 
 ed .to these scions without evincing too great 
 a desire to increase the rupture or advance se 
 cession. 
 
 Thus thought many of the principal men 
 of the older sects ; and they acted accord 
 ingly. There was the usual display of cour 
 tesy, pulpits were exchanged, there were union 
 prayer meetings, and fraternization at public 
 meetings ; there was the mutual denunciation 
 of Popery, and the tacit understanding against 
 the High Church ; and, therefore, while on the 
 surface every thing looked calm and pleasant, 
 there was in reality a working of deep de 
 signs, and a determination, when opportunity 
 offered, of detracting and humiliating the 
 rampant Methodism of the day. 
 
 (Jn the evening before the meeting which 
 Mr. Baker was notified to attend, there was a 
 special reunion in Mr. Campbell's church of 
 most of the principal ministers and official 
 members of the Presbyterian, Baptist and 
 Congregational churches, and of one or two 
 minor sects. Besides the usual number of 
 ministers, deacons, and elders, there were also 
 some of the great ones present on the occasion. 
 Dr. Theophilus Buster, moderator of the 
 General Assembly, attended ; so did the Rev. 
 Caleb Howe, a distinguished preacher and 
 administrator of the Baptists ; there were also 
 the Rev. Jonah Hall of the Independents, and 
 some of the most shrewd and active members 
 of other denominations. 
 
 Dr. Buster, the moderator, was sitting at the 
 end of a large table near the vestry door, and 
 three or four ministers sat close by, exclusive 
 ly engaged on some subject of importance. 
 There seemed to be a disagreement ; for occa 
 sionally a fist would come down on the table 
 with sufficient force to attract the attention of 
 other persons dispersed in twos and threes in 
 different parts of the church. The discussion 
 at the table related to some plan which was 
 to be submitted to all present that evening, 
 and seemed to keep the reverend debaters 
 somewhat restless ; while the mutter of con 
 versation around indicated a probable differ 
 ence of opinion on the subject which then en 
 gaged attention. 
 
 An indifferent looker-on that evening would 
 have readily discovered that even the select 
 ministers there assembled were not of one 
 mind ; and that within the very precincts of 
 Mr. Campbell's sanctuary all was not har 
 
 mony. Faint whispers, those shadovs of 
 thought, after awhile gave way to loud words 
 which followed faster and faster from the lips 
 of excited men. Away from the rest, two dea 
 cons sat astride of a form, and facing each 
 other; they had once been members of the 
 Close Communion Church under the pastorate 
 of the Rev. Caleb Howe ; but recently, one of 
 the deacons became more liberal, and allied 
 himself to the Open Communionists. For this 
 he was eluded by his more steadfast and con 
 servative brother ; there was a lively contro 
 versy for a time, and a grand flourish of texts 
 in attack and defense of their different views. 
 
 " I tell you what, John," said the steadfast 
 deacon, " you left us because you had itching 
 ears, and wanted to hear novelties. The Scrip 
 tures are plain and positive on the subject of 
 my belie*, and any who will not conform to 
 the strict letter of the law have neither part 
 nor lot in the matter. ' Come out from among 
 them, and be ye separate,' is the command, 
 and you know it, John, as well as I do." 
 
 " And why don't you keep separate 1" re 
 plied the other. " The Regular Baptists show 
 the same inconsistency that you do now. 
 Here you are among unbelievers in one of 
 your very essentials ready to take counsel 
 from them and advise with them upon clmrch 
 matters ; and yet you believe that the major 
 ity present, because they differ-in opinion with 
 you, are outside of the pale, and unregener- 
 ate. Tut, man, if I didn't think these people 
 fit to sit with me at the table of the Lord, I 
 would keep clear of them altogether. I have 
 read and re-read the tract of the great Robert 
 Hall on your illiberal Close Communion ; he 
 was a true Baptist, and I well remember his 
 words. He wrote, ' It is too much to expect 
 an enlightened public will be eager to enroll 
 themselves among the members of a sect 
 which displays much of the intolerance of 
 Popery.' These were the deliberate words 
 of that saint ; get over them if you can." 
 
 " Ay ; but Robert Hall, the saint as you call 
 him, wasn't gospel," said one ot a few listen 
 ers who had gathered around the pair of dea 
 cons ; " neither was he what I would wish P 
 man to be who pretended to continue 'stead 
 fast and immovable.' " 
 
 " There was no pretense about him, friend : 
 you haven't a man among you, at any rate, 
 that is his equal," replied another 
 
 "I think," said a Presbyterian brother, 
 siding with the defender of Mr. Hall, " J 
 think that man was an honor to this age ; 
 and although I entirely differ from his opinioo 
 as to what Christian baptism ought to be, h< 
 was a man of free mind and made of the 
 right kind of stuff. If a person finds himself 
 in error, he ought not to be called inconsistent 
 because he is willing to be set right, and then 
 sticks to what he has proved to be truth." 
 
 " Eh, now, friend, but that's a strange view 
 to take," said the steadfast man. " I doubt if 
 ever any one who had the witness of the 
 Spirit would be so ready to change his opinion 
 at every hand's turn as to the meaning of the 
 plain command of God. Robert Hall's belief 
 as to how baptism ought to be administered 
 was right enough ; but when he advocated 
 open communion with the supporters of infant
 
 28 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 sprinkling, he was wrong. We can't budge a 
 peg from the true word ; nay, man, we have no 
 right to recognize people as worthy communi 
 cants who have not been properly baptized." 
 
 " Infant sprinkling ! Well, do you mean to 
 say," retorted the other, " that any Christian 
 man who has not been thrust under water 
 like a gaping duck has not received the prop 
 er baptismal rite ? Do you mean to say to my 
 face that I am not yet baptized ; I, who was 
 sprinkled by the great Doctor Chalmers him 
 self even before I was a week old ?" 
 
 " I mean, friend, that unless we are, accord 
 ing to Coloseians the 2d and 12th, buried 
 with him in baptism, we will be buried in the 
 earth without it. A mere fillip of mist in the 
 face may do for Methodists and such Papist- 
 like folk, but will never do for men who wish 
 to conform to the plain word never, man." 
 
 " Ah, mon ! but yee're delooded !" struck in 
 an irritated North Briton, " ye wad twist an 
 twist the scriptur to suit yoursel. Wha merit 
 hae ye in a ploonge aboon a sprinkle? ye 
 hae nae mickle. Why the poorest body o' a 
 Mithodist wad sniffle a' that." 
 
 A Congregationalist brother now came to 
 the rescue of the church of John Knox, and 
 insisted that the language used against infant 
 baptism was not what might be expected 
 from any person who knew any thing of 
 divine grace. Jt ill became a set of sour, 
 deluded divers at the present day to cast a 
 reflection on the descendants of men who had 
 shed their blood for the truth. It was a proof 
 that the baptism of which they boasted so 
 loudly was not sufficient to bestow that 
 charity that ' thinketh no evil ;' and as the 
 brother grew warmer on the subject, his decla 
 mation became stronger. 
 
 At this stage of the discussion, there was 
 quite an excitement, and it was apparent that 
 any thing but a religious feeling, or even a 
 desire to exhibit ordinary forbearance, was 
 manifested by a large majority of those pres 
 ent. By this time, a few of the ministers had 
 approached, and stood here and there, outside 
 the circle of heads that surrounded the origi 
 nal combatants ; and while the deacons and 
 their respective adherents still hotly contend 
 ed, the ministers took sides, and from their 
 winks, nods, and gestures of impatience, it 
 might be only reasonable to infer that some 
 thing more serious than an ordinary alterca 
 tion would ensue unless a stop were put to 
 the gross irregularity of a few hot-headed 
 men. It would be a curious thing, indeed, to 
 see the validity of a religious doctrine tested 
 within the very walls of a church by a resort 
 to physical force, or by a display of the barba 
 rous science of the trained athletes so disgust 
 ingly detailed in Sell's Life. .There would 
 be a nice winding up of this little reunion of 
 select saints, if may be the moderator himself 
 had to leave the sacred edifice with a bandage 
 over his eye, or his arm in a sling. What 
 an example for unbelievers ! and what hosan- 
 nas would be sung alike by High Church 
 and Papist ! What heart-breaking comments 
 would be conspicuously printed in the Metho 
 dist Watchman of the ensuing week I It 
 would never do. Baptists and Pedobaptists, 
 
 and all others engaged must at once give up 
 the unseemly strife, and turn their attention 
 to the common enemy. 
 
 An announcement was made that the mod 
 erator desired to make a few remarks on the 
 present aspect of affairs, in relation to the posi 
 tion and prospects of the denominations repre 
 sented by the persons present, and to devise 
 means whereby a greater union could be estab 
 lished between themselves, in order to expose 
 the errors and spiritual delinquencies of an as 
 piring sect, and to prove that its pretended zeal 
 was not so much for the glory of God as for 
 the honor and emolument, particularly of its 
 clerical adherents. 
 
 An intimation to this effect was made in a 
 hurried manner by one of the elders, who, 
 while speaking, kept extending and closing 
 his arms, and gently thrusting himself be 
 tween some who still stood their ground, as 
 if indifferent to any thing else but the merits 
 of the particular mode of baptism which they 
 had been advocating. By dint of patience, 
 however, and by giving the wink of fellow 
 ship to one, and a confidential nudge to an 
 other, and by the gentle force of a few of the 
 more sensible and discreet of the brethren, 
 the principals were separated, and in a few 
 minutes nearly all were found either seated or 
 standing in front of the table occupied by the 
 moderator and ministers ; but although a 
 truce was thus obtained, it could be easily 
 perceived from the number of excited eyes, 
 and from certain flushed faces, and by the 
 lingering looks of defiance that passed from 
 one to another, that the troubled waters had 
 not yet fully subsided. 
 
 The Rev. Andrew Campbell, minister of St. 
 Andrews Church, in which the present little 
 assembly met, was a stout, low-sized man, evi 
 dently well fed. He had a florid face and red 
 dish hair ; he wore spectacles over a pair of 
 very prominent eyes, and his countenance in 
 dicated no very marked intelligence. There 
 was, as had been once observed, a kind of cleri 
 cal sheepishness about his looks which his re 
 puted learning could not qualify ; but as he 
 had been indoctrinated into the complexities of 
 Calvinism at an early age, and had the train 
 ing necessary to enable him as a Presbyterian 
 teacher to explain passages of scripture in sup 
 port of that belief, he was ever ready to com 
 bat antagonistic opinions, and was stubborn 
 enough to retain his own views at any sacri 
 fice, even against the many contradictory 
 texts to be found in the Bible in support of 
 opposite tenets. 
 
 Nearly in front of this favored pastor sat 
 the Rev. Caleb Howe, the Baptist minister ; he 
 was a little taller and a great deal thinner than 
 his clerical brother of St. Andrews ; he, too, 
 wore spectacles, but they were slightly shaded 
 and it was no doubt uncharitably said, that 
 they were worn as much to hide the " caet" in 
 one of his eyes as to be of assistance to his vis 
 ion. He was mild in appearance, and one would 
 imagine of a constitution too delicate to ad 
 minister a spiritual bath to another without 
 injury to himself. Notwithstanding, however, 
 the little rumpus that had just taken place, 
 he seemed to be in no way disconcerted, but wai
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 now just as ready for oilier business as he 
 would have been to defend his idea of the 
 proper baptismal rite, were it necessary. 
 
 Then, there was the Rev. Jonah Hall, the 
 Independent minister. He was known as one 
 of the most popular preachers in London, 
 rather humorous occasionally, and his pulpit 
 jokes were retailed far and wide, while his 
 church was generally filled with the most 
 select and fashionable of congregations. He 
 was a wiry, determined-looking man, alter 
 nately affected by pride and humility ; but in 
 defense of the faith, one upon whom you 
 might rely, and one who was ever ready to 
 back his opinions, either by words or blows, or 
 in any other manner most convenient to an 
 opponent. 
 
 The other -ministers were unobtrusive look 
 ing persons, connected with small sects, yet 
 meix who felt that their spiritual authority 
 WRK something to be recognized ; and some 
 of the elders and deacons were sufficiently 
 belligerent in aspect to justify the conclusion, 
 that in a moral combat, not to go any further, 
 you might rely on them as being steadfast 
 and uncompromising. One could, however, 
 observe that most of the person-* just referred 
 to, particularly the ministers, tried to appear 
 very mild and courteous, and such was their 
 ordinary address, unless agitated by doctrinal 
 disputes, which it seemed were too often 
 prevalent, even among the reputed heralds of 
 peace. 
 
 But the individual considered the most im 
 portant personage present that evening was 
 the Rev. Dr. Theophilus Buster, who, by spe 
 cial request, favored the brethren with his pres 
 ence ; and with a few exceptions all within the 
 church paid him the greatest deference and 
 attention. He was a very tall man, portly 
 and pompous in appearance ; he stood erect, 
 and his height seemed to be increased by the 
 manner in which his coarse bristly hair was 
 brushed up from his low receding forehead. 
 He certainly wished to be considered a person 
 of no ordinary importance, and he used all 
 the recognized airs to make that impression. 
 He wore a suit of the deepest clerical black, 
 cut and fitted in the most approved style ; 
 a neck-cloth of spotless white was wound 
 around his stout neck in such a manner as if 
 intended to splice his head to his body more 
 securely ; an exceedingly white pair of shirt 
 wrists peeped out below h's coat sleeves, and 
 though the severe look of his cold grey eye 
 was not obscured by spectacles, yet there was 
 pendant from his neck a rich gold-mounted 
 eye-glass attached to a plain black ribbon ; 
 this ornament must have added much to his 
 dignity ; for when he gave one of his many 
 formal bows, the little glistening glass would 
 tip against the chain of his gold repeater, and 
 make a tinkling sound, like that which in 
 some places might be expected to announce 
 the coming of some great high priest. 
 
 Then his clerical attitude was most perfect 
 perfect dignity. His head and shoulders 
 were thrown back, and his thumbs inserted 
 into the arm-holes of his smoothly fitting vest 
 giving to his soft open hand on each side, the 
 appearance of a rudimentary wing, which 
 might be supposed to indicate a preparation 
 
 | for his final flight from the pomps and vani 
 ties of this world to a more, exalted sphere of 
 labor. 
 
 He was dignified ; not a smile cheered the 
 sage serenity of his countenance. He was 
 superbly demure, and in nearly every other 
 respect fitted to make a profound impression 
 on the ordinary race of believers. From his 
 tact and finesse in the pulpit, he won the re 
 ligious affections of his congregation the 
 ladies in particular were enraptured and by 
 such means his church became crowded with 
 admiring worshipers, and his pews were 
 let at exorbitant rates, the gross rental being 
 annually a very large sum. He was also im 
 mensely popular with his more wealthy hear 
 ers ; and by his courtesy and address toward 
 his ministerial brethren, by his advocacy of 
 sound Calvinistic views, and demand for a 
 puritanical observance of the Sabbath, he 
 won his way until he attained the impor 
 tant position as moderator of the General 
 Assembly. 
 
 Dr. Buster's influence with the ladies of hig 
 flock partly arose from another cause ; he was 
 laboring under a painful difficulty, of a do 
 mestic nature. Thoroughly orthodox, he 
 could never sanction any under his control to 
 interpret Scripture so as to conflict with his 
 ideas ; and while he abhorred a schismatic, he 
 seemed to exult in pronouncing a dreadful 
 woe against any unfortunate who dared to 
 doubt a single passage of the word of God. 
 Strange to say. his own wife differed from him. 
 Her mind had been cast in a different mould 
 from his ; she was highly intelligent, liberal 
 in opinion, and benevolent, and could not be 
 forced to believe contrary to her convictions. 
 She was not sufficiently passive to be the wife 
 of a minister ; she would make no empty 
 formal profession ; and this independence of 
 thought and action highly exasperated the 
 doctor, and ultimately led to alienation, and 
 systematic persecution. Of this, she was at 
 last forced to complain ; but the doctor won 
 the sympathy of true believers. He made af 
 fecting private appeals to many of the chief 
 men, and to some of the admiring women, 
 who were spiritually fed by his hand. None 
 would countenance the recreancy of his wife ; 
 he was looked upon as an afflicted man, whose 
 efforts to establish truth should be applauded. 
 None would believe that he was capable of 
 harshness ; and when he was thus sustained 
 by nearly all, he became more positive and 
 exacting, until it was at last rumored that a 
 separation had taken place, Chat his domestic 
 happiness was at an end, and that his wife 
 had taken her departure, none knew whither. 
 
 He was now left the sole guardian and pro 
 tector of his two children, a boy and a girl, 
 both of tender years. He had planed them 
 under the care of an old housekeeper who had 
 lived for some time in his family, and subse 
 quently under the management of a more ac 
 tive person, who was a member of his own 
 church, a woman who would be sure to im 
 press their minds with sound religious princi 
 ples. No wonder then, deserted as he was, 
 that the doctor had so many fair sympa 
 thizing friends. The ladies of his congrega 
 tion looked upon him aa one whoso name
 
 80 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 might yet be handed down to posterity as an 
 example of patience under affliction. There 
 fore, as an injured uncomplaining man in the 
 cause of truth, his trials were almost a con 
 stant theme at tea-parties: and a great portion 
 of the time, not taken up by missionary or 
 church affairs, was spent by his spiritual sis 
 ters and daughters, in devising how to add 
 a little comfort or sunshine to the dreary, win 
 try life of this suffering and exemplary Chris 
 tian pastor. 
 
 There were some reputed wise ones, how 
 ever, who were bold enough to assert that the 
 chastened moderator was not altogether a 
 true pattern of saintly perfection. There 
 were many, who, like the Rev. Jonah Hall, 
 for instance, thought he was but a specious 
 pretender, a cold, unfeeling hypocrite, and 
 that time would yet develop his true charac 
 ter. There were murmurs and mutterings 
 here and there, that the doctor's public and 
 private life were in sad contrast. What had 
 oecome of his wife ? Did he cast her from 
 him, or was she now the hidden victim of 
 his resentment ? Was it possible that he knew 
 nothing of her ? Why did he keep his house 
 like a prison, and his children with a stranger ? 
 There was something irreconcilable in his con 
 duct ; and, as these things were, time after 
 time, mooted, the knowing ones grew daily 
 more mysterious. 
 
 But the doctor stood fair with the members 
 of his own church ; such defaming reports grew 
 out of sectarian jealousy nothing else could 
 be expected. The great Presbyterian body 
 looked upon him with pride as the embodi 
 ment of learning and piety; and now, as he 
 was about to address the few assembled in 
 St. Andrew's Church, wrangling elders and 
 deacons subsided, and all awaited in silence. 
 
 The reverend doctor, on rising with a kind 
 of easy dignity to address the few around him, 
 first drew from his pocket a white cambric 
 handkerchief which he delicately applied to 
 his lips, as if to remove any impediment to the 
 flow of words which might be expected to fol 
 low. He then made a stately inclination and 
 commenced: 
 
 " Rev. gentlemen and most esteemed friends, 
 a concurrence of circumstances has rendered 
 it imperative on me to solicit your attention 
 for a short period this evening. I desire to 
 state a few important facts, for the purpose of 
 stimulating you to prompt action against en 
 croachments of a peculiar nature. I wish not 
 to excite an unchristian ebullition, or a mere 
 effervescence of transient indignation. No, 
 my friends, we must not be betrayed into any 
 unseemly demonstration ; we must proceed 
 cautiously. Therefore, first, I desire culm de 
 liberation, secondly, confidence and conjura 
 tion, and thirdly, strenuous and persevering 
 effort." 
 
 He paused; the lengthened words uttered 
 with such classical precision by the learned 
 doctor seemed to have stepped out from his 
 lips with measured pace, and to have ranged 
 themselves about him like a body-guard of 
 grenadiers. 
 
 No wonder that the Rev. Andrew Campbell 
 should look upon this fountain of eloquence 
 with a feeling of denominational pride. No 
 
 wonder that elders and deacons, and simple 
 pastors should stand almost amazed at the 
 sound of language which they could scarcely 
 comprehend ; while others huddled closer to 
 the speaker, as if they fully understood the 
 deep meaning, at the close of the finished pe 
 riod. 
 
 The learned doctor continued for some min 
 utes in the same strain. He again urged them 
 to be active ; and though he cautioned them 
 to be as wise as serpents, he was forgetful of 
 the context concerning harmlessness of doves. 
 He made some very pointed and severe remarks 
 about the illiterate and presumptuous preach 
 ers of the day ; he alluded to one particular 
 sect which he said was as overbearing :a its 
 ignorance as was the Church of St. Peter 
 the Rouiish with all its scholastic attain 
 ments. An effort must be made to keep such 
 men in their proper position. It was not for 
 Presbyterians, who, through many trials, had 
 once held in submission the Popery and 
 Prelacy of a former period, to retire before 
 such a religious rabble ; something more than 
 a formal protest was necessary ; it would 
 never do to leave the field to others. 
 
 By this time the doctor grew warm ; the dig 
 nified placidity which at first seemed to hang 
 like a silken vail over his face, was now drawn 
 aside, and a countenance depicting fierce and 
 vindictive passion was exposed to view ; even 
 his very admirers felt somewhat uneasy at the 
 transition, and found relief when he took his 
 seat and applied the white handkerchief to 
 his heated brow. 
 
 There was a murmur of applause, but it 
 was only a murmur. The brethren breathed 
 more freely, and looked at each other as if they 
 had but just escaped from some impending 
 danger. 
 
 In a moment or two, the Rev. Mr. Howe 
 stood up ; he approved of what the Rev. mod 
 erator had suggested, and remarked that he 
 was quite free to admit the services and pious 
 determination of his Presbyterian brethren 
 in times past, but they must not forget what 
 others had done. No religious body of peo 
 ple were ever more ready to make a sacrifice 
 for the truth than the Baptists, of whom he 
 was an unworthy minister. He wished to 
 speak plainly ; he had no confidence in the pre 
 tensions of Methodist* or their allies. He 
 had been among them often, and had once 
 hoped that people who could meet and pray 
 together for the dissemination of the word, 
 and for the downfall of Popery not excepting 
 that of the High Church would find no rea 
 son to be on their guard against each other. 
 The Methodists were full of monopolizing de 
 signs, he could not trust them ; and he re 
 gretted that after all that had been said and 
 done by the boasted Evangelical Alliance, sec 
 tarian jealousy still existed and was particu 
 larly manifested b/ the Wesleyans. 
 
 These remarks were agreeably received. 
 The spirit of the meeting was, " Down with 
 the Methodists !" 
 
 " I am glad that the Reverend gentleman 
 has partly explained himself," said the Rev. Jo 
 nah Hall, of the Independents, " though I wish 
 that while he is so liberal toward Presbyteri 
 ans and Baptists, he would not be so forgetful
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 31 
 
 of what Independents have done. I hope," 
 said he humorously, "that he does not in 
 tend to leave my particular friends out in the 
 cold, or to classify them with the blatant rant 
 ers of the day. The Independents could and 
 would be independent of all others, if ne 
 cessary : they had suffered in the cause, and 
 would occupy no secondary position in the 
 struggle for right. But, friends, we have not 
 net here to discuss private opinions of supe- 
 iority; we carne here to try and counteract 
 he mischievous designs of a common enemy, 
 ind this is the time and place to begin the 
 work." 
 
 There were cries of " hear, hear," and the 
 worthy men assembled felt as if they were 
 about entering into the spirit of the thing. 
 
 " I tell you what, " lie continued, " no matter 
 10 w about the trifling differences that may 
 -xist among ourselves, we must put a stop to 
 :he gallop of these Methodist cavaliers who 
 ire cantering abouA so confidently. It may be 
 some time yet before they take the beggar's 
 ride ; but the swaddlers are on horseback, and 
 is they are the chief beggars of Christendom, 
 ;he adage must come true, for they will surely, 
 ride to the well, of course, in this place, and 
 in presence of so distinguished a divine -" and 
 he accompanied this ironical expression with 
 a bow to the moderator " I won't say where. 
 Anyway, we must put a five-barred gate in 
 "Jieir way that they can't jump." 
 
 There was a burst of applause, some loud 
 laughter, and fresh cries of, " hear him, hear 
 aim." The Rev. moderator about this time 
 oegan to show symptoms of displeasure. Had 
 :hey forgotten who he was? His dignity 
 was hurt ; f r the speaker's irony was rather 
 pointed. This was a case of ministerial jeal 
 ousy, the general result of mixed assemblies. 
 
 " Now, mv friends," continued Mr. Hall. 
 ' we have the ranters in a corner. They want 
 to nourish again at Exeter Hall. Let us meet 
 them to-morrow night on our own ground, and 
 rout them. Let us now decide who shall be 
 nominated to-morrow evening aa our delegate 
 at the coming anniversary ; by so doing, we go 
 there prepared to take the wind out of their 
 sails." 
 
 " Yes, that's it," cried two or three, "let us 
 go prepared for them, and have our man ready." 
 
 The Rev. moderator now suggested that 
 such a course might be premature ; the num 
 ber then present was too insignificant to take 
 a proceeding of that kind. They would meet 
 many additional friends to-morrow evening 
 who might wish to have a voice in the selec 
 tion ; and were they now to name a person for a 
 delegate, it would be unpleasant to be obliged 
 to lay him aside. It would be better to let the 
 delegate be chosen at the regular meeting. 
 
 The Rev. Andrew Campbell concurred in 
 his view. It would no doubt be more prudent 
 to leave the selection to the meeting ; while 
 here, they could make other arrangements. 
 
 The Rev. Jonah Hall could not see the 
 force of such objections to a nomination. 
 What other arrangement could they make at 
 present? He could not understand the motive 
 for delay. "With all due deference to the supe 
 rior j udgment of the distinguished moderator," 
 said he, in his former ironical strain, " there 
 
 might be a few present who would approve of 
 taking action at once. Let us choose some 
 name to be presented at the meeting ; none of 
 our absent friends can object. We are now 
 comparatively calm ; we might not be so 
 much so to-morrow evening." 
 
 " I propose," said an Open Communion bro 
 ther, starting up, " that the Rev. Jonah Hall be 
 the person nominated." 
 
 Cries of " no, no, yes, yes," were now heard. 
 Several persons spoke out together, and some 
 curious expressions were audible. The mod 
 erator and Mr. Campbell jumped up at the 
 same moment, and almost with one voice 
 rudely condemned the proposal. 
 
 Already, there was not only a division but a 
 subdivision. The moderator, and Mr. Camp 
 bell, and Mr. Howe, the Regular Baptist min 
 ister, with a few others, were in favor of de 
 lay ; while the Rev. Jonah Hall, and the mem 
 bers of his church, one or two other preachers, 
 and nearly all of the Open Communionists 
 were for proceeding at once ; while 8till a few 
 others from each party stood apparently in- 
 difterent, but ready to join the majority. 
 
 A considerable time was thus spent, as it 
 were, in charging and counter-charging. The 
 Rev. Jonah Hall and his supporters being 
 most numerous, would not give way, but 
 continued in angry altercation and bit 
 ter recriminations. The Rev. Mr. Camp 
 bell was denounced in his own church. 
 He might, he was told, order them out if 
 he liked ; but if he tried to overrule them 
 as he seemed willing to do at present, the 
 motive would be only too plain. If he had 
 a majority on his side sufficient to sup 
 port the nomination of the moderator, all 
 would be pleasant enough ; but the moderator 
 was not the man for them, and they would en 
 deavor to prove it on the very first opportunity. 
 
 The discomfited minister of St. Andrew's 
 had to hide his mortification the best way he 
 could. The result of this select meeting was 
 very unexpected. He had hoped that the mer 
 its of Dr. Buster would have been sufficient to 
 decide in his favor ; and although he expressed 
 a desire to delay the nomination of any person 
 for delegate, yet he would not have made the 
 least objection had the doctor been chosen. 
 
 What an utter want of appreciation and re 
 spect was thus shown by the leader of an in 
 significant sect toward such a person as the 
 moderator of theOieneral Assembly ! In a few 
 minut"S, the manifestations were fast becom 
 ing personal, and the spirit of sect was again 
 in the ascendant. The moderator and his par- 
 ticulur friends were in high dudgeon, and were 
 preparing to leave the church ; but the Rev. 
 Jonah Hall and his party, desirous of showing 
 their contempt of the whole proceeding, col 
 lected in a body, and as they hastened away 
 together, the heavy bang of the great church 
 door resounded through the whole building. 
 
 Half an hour after the departure of these 
 great religious luminaries, the sexton of St. 
 Andrew's extinguished the lesser lights in that 
 church what purpose had they served ? and 
 as he walked away, alone, along the dreary 
 street, he met shivering women and hungry 
 children ; and he looked back at the stately 
 proportions of the edifice, looming up in the
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 misty night, and thought of the thousands of 
 homeless wanderers who would be glad to 
 find even temporary shelter within such walls. 
 But there is no humanity in their marble bo 
 soms ; those splendid and costly religious mon 
 uments could not be desecrated to charity. 
 They were not erected as a refuge for the 
 wretched and forlorn ; they were not intended 
 for the mitigation of real suffering. If they 
 do not open their spacious doors to shelter the 
 living poor, they can, like the great Abbey of 
 Westminster, receive and protect the wither 
 ing remains of the wealthy dead. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 IF the Rev. Dr. Buster had reason to feel 
 aggrieved at the want of courtesy shown him 
 in St. Andrew's church, and at the indignity 
 to which he had been subjected by the minis 
 ter of a petty sect of Independents, he felt in 
 some degree compensated by the distin 
 guished reception lie met with at the house of 
 his reverend friend, Mr. Campbell. When it 
 was known that the doctor was to be the guest 
 of the minister of St. Andrew's, the ladies of 
 that congregation turned out in companies of 
 five, or six, and, by their constant calls for sev 
 eral hours, fairly besieged the dwelling of their 
 pastor, which was for the present to be the 
 transient or rather temporary abode of one of 
 the elect, whose Calvinistic virtues and do 
 mestic long-sufferings endeared him to so 
 many. 
 
 It is almost needless to say, that the reverend 
 doctor was always particularly pleased by such 
 attentions. To be ministered unto by the 
 sou hands of Christian sisters, and to be looked 
 at with affection through their softer eyes, 
 ought, in a measure, to enable any man to fed 
 reconciled or indifferent to the unkindness or 
 hostility of his unscrupulous opponents in the 
 struggle for precedence or distinction. The 
 reverend doctor was but a man in these mat 
 ters, and was highly gratified at meeting with 
 many of his fair friends ; and to look at him, 
 as he sat in the handsome parlor of Mr. 
 Campbell, surrounded by so much sweet sym 
 pathy, one might be led to suppose that ttie 
 doctor would be willing to suffer some slight 
 misfortune every day, in order to be restored 
 by such a delightful remedy. 
 
 To woman, in every relation of life, man is 
 indebted for his noblest and most persevering 
 elibrts. Without the cheering word or stim 
 ulating smile of woman, many a vast project 
 would have been forsaken, and many a con 
 spicuous laurel never worn ; and, although the 
 orthodox of the present, day might not, in 
 all cases, be willing to select the women of 
 the Bible as patterns of feminine goodness, or 
 domestic virtue, or as models for the heroines 
 of modern civilization, yet it is asserted that 
 without her influence religion would decay 
 or languish into the most trivial formality : 
 that patriotism would become extinct, and 
 that many of our most cherished notions would 
 be forsaken. 
 
 In every age of the world, woman figures 
 on the page of history as the handmaid of 
 
 religion. No matter in what form it has ap 
 peared, how rude or how perfect has been its 
 revelation, she has favored its progress and has 
 assisted in its extension, either as uriestess, si 
 byl, vestal, or nun. The Roman, as well as 
 the Reformed Church is loud in her praise ; and 
 Protestant missionaries would have very little 
 success without her coo'peration. Among the 
 distant, rude, half-starved tribes, the mission 
 ary's wife in the kitchen may be often far 
 more persuasive than the missionary himself 
 in the pulpit ; and the shipwrecked mariner 
 in his distress is often comforted by the 
 prayer he learnt at his mother's knee, or by the 
 possession of her Bible as the last endearing 
 token of her memory. 
 
 All sects, therefore, readily acknowledge 
 that by woman's pious industry churches are 
 built, endowments made, missions established, 
 Bibles printed, tracts circulated, Sunday- 
 schools opened, and worldly comforts secured 
 for ministers. In fact, by her zeal, nearly all 
 the religious machinery of the age is lubrica 
 ted and kept in operation. As her faith is 
 unequaled, so her constancy is secure; and 
 while doubting, reasoning, incredulous man 
 is restlessly wandering in flighty speculation, 
 woman's eye remains unalterably fixed on 
 some bright particular star of hope, and it 
 watches fondly and lovingly there forever. 
 
 It is well, then, that those devoted men who 
 undertake the performance of so much minis 
 terial drudgery can count on her assistance ; 
 and it is well that in seasons of personal 
 trial, or spiritual adversity, sisters of the 
 church, whether of Rusnia, Rome, England, or 
 ' Utah, can be found ready to soothe the priest- 
 i hood into forgetfulness of private wrongs, 
 and encourage them to " press forward to the 
 mark of their high calling." 
 i Thi- sweet influence had ever a most potent 
 and peculiar effect on the Rev. Doctor Buster. 
 No matter what private wrongs, what minis 
 terial jealousy, what vile misrepresentations 
 might disturb his Christian serenity, or cause 
 i him to feel for a moment the combatative 
 1 promptings of the old Adam still strong 
 within him, when the fair members of his 
 | own denomination cared for him, and defend- 
 j ed him, and prayed for him, what cause had 
 ! lie to fear ? Why should he despond '( 
 Backed by such an angelic host, he could over 
 power every assailant, and triumph over every 
 enemy. 
 
 The worthy doctor was, therefore, ever 
 most gracious in his intercourse with Christian 
 ladies ; indeed, his preference for female soci 
 ety of any kind was a marked characteristic ; 
 but with sisters of the faith, he could for the 
 time forget every thing of a personal nature ; 
 with them, even in the more formal inter 
 change of spiritual courtesies, he appeared to 
 realize perfect happiness. Thus it is that 
 good men the persecuted ministers of the 
 Lord are ever rewarded ; thus, while the 
 world affects to despise and frown upon hum 
 ble servants of the cross, they are privileged 
 to bask in the bright smiles of pious, devoted 
 woman. What a sweet reward for personal 
 sacrifice in the cause of religion, while the 
 scoffer and the scornful may be but a prey to 
 sullen discontent and uncertainty 1
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 38 
 
 Next to the interest which the doctor's visit 
 created, there was that caused by the meeting 
 ot the Branch Bible Society, to be held that 
 evening. The doctor would be present on 
 that occasion, and the ladies of Mr. Campbell's 
 congregation were in a state of commotion : 
 a number of fair collectors were marshaling 
 tii'.'ir forces, and making out sums total ; all 
 were anxious to have a large amount placed 
 to tbu credit of Presbyterian energy. Then 
 tuere was to be a great preliminary tea-meet 
 ing, at which the doctor would ask the bless 
 ing ; would not this be a treat? And then to 
 hear him relate some missionary anecdote, or 
 repay your own Sunday-school trials with 
 one of his bland smiles ; would not that be 
 agreeable? It was altogether a time of great 
 interest to the pious ladies crowded together, 
 and one might be inclined to excuse the total 
 neglect of sundry little household matters, 
 when such affairs of religious importance had 
 to be transacted ; the Lord's business of course 
 required their first attention. 
 
 However, while the soiree at which the doc 
 tor presided was comfortably crowded with the 
 well-dressed ladies of St. Andrew's, and while 
 the extensive tea-table at Mr. Campbell's was 
 enlivened by innocent chit-chat, and by the 
 smart witticisms and soft flattery of the mode 
 rator, the Rev. Jonah Hall was similarly engag 
 ed at a tea-meeting in his own house. There, 
 also, many of the gay but sanctified sisters of 
 Israel met to sip Bohea and discuss its price ; 
 and afterward to ascertain the amount of local 
 collections for the circulation of the Great Book, 
 and to make out certain lists of lady collectors 
 for the ensuing year. Presbyterians, and Meth 
 odists, and others had of late succeeded in get 
 ting a choice of such officials almost to the ex 
 clusion of the Independents, and an attempt 
 was to be made at the meeting that night to 
 rectify this omission, as well as to teach Dr. Bus 
 ter and other aspiring people a lesson of humil 
 ity. Pastors are generally regarded with 
 great interest by the female members of their 
 congregations, and the Rev. Jonah Hall was 
 not an exception. There was a certain dash 
 about him which made his manner rather at 
 tractive to the younger women of his flock ; 
 and of course, in their opinion, he was every 
 way superior to the pompous, pretentious 
 moderator of the Presbyterian Assembly. 
 
 After these respective tea-meetings were 
 over, it was expected that all concerned would 
 wend their way to the Baptist church. The 
 annual gathering of the friends of the Hamp- 
 stead Branch Bible Society was always an occa 
 sion of great interest to worldlings as well as 
 to worshipers ; more particularly to pious dis 
 senters. Indeed, taking it altogether, the so 
 ciety was a popular institution. To be an offi 
 cer, to be one of its many vice-presidents, or 
 to be able to contribute a fair amount to its 
 funds was sure to pay, or to turn out a good 
 investment. The meeting that evening would 
 no doubt be very interesting ; it would be like 
 Exeter Hall on a small scale ; there would be 
 the local ministers of several denominations: 
 there would be a few great ones, like Doctor 
 15uster; and there would be anthems and an 
 ecdotes, and speeches, and thrilling extracts 
 from missionary reports. And then how pleas 
 
 ant it would be to see ministers and members 
 of different sects meet as one body, act with 
 one spirit, and be enlivened by the same Gos 
 pel vitality ; it would be pleasant, indeed ; 
 would it not be a sight to abash the scoffer 
 and infidel ? There would be the place to 
 ! prove hnw Christians could be " kindly affec- 
 i tionate one to another, in honor preferring 
 each other." That would be the place to put 
 UQbe}ievera to shame, and to prove how worth 
 less were the insinuations and predictions ut 
 tered against Christian fellowship. Yes, the 
 harmony that should prevail among an assem 
 bly of believers would be an overwhelming 
 evidence in favor of the " unity of spirit" aud 
 the " bonds of peace." 
 
 What wrecks of fancy are strewn upon the 
 rocks of fact ! Our once bright hopes are now 
 but phantoms to the memory 1 Upon what 
 moonbeams have our noblest structures been 
 erected ! How seldom are our most pleasing 
 anticipations realized ! how often, on the con 
 trary, are the budding leaves of Hope sudden 
 ly withered and blown into our faces by some 
 chilling blast of adversity! It is hard to see 
 the creations of faith, that look so bright and. 
 beautiful in the distance, become dim and 
 faded on nearer approach ; but such is the 
 experience of life, and the lesson is often and 
 often taught us when perhaps we least expect 
 its repetition. 
 
 While many of the good people who were 
 then in social intercourse and enjoyment at 
 the respective houses of the Rev. Mr. Campbell 
 and the Rev. Jonah Hall, and while many 
 other less demonstrative Christians were 
 making preparations to attend the meeting 
 that evening, the Rev. James Baker was at 
 home with a few friends, making ready for the 
 same occasion. He had only returned an hour 
 or two previously, after having taken a long 
 ride through various parts of his circuit, not 
 for the purpose of filling his regular appoint 
 ments, but he had been to places where he 
 was sure to find some of the strongest friends 
 of Methodism, and some of the stoutest and 
 most bitter opponents of Calvinism. That 
 his journey, for whatever purpose undertaken, 
 had been successful, was apparent at a glance. 
 The preacher was in the best humor. It 
 was quite plain that he felt like a man who 
 held a trump card, that the game was secure, 
 or that he could checkmate his opponent at 
 the proper moment. The friends who were 
 now his guests were men who could be relied 
 on ; their mental bias was unalterable. They 
 were prominent local preachers and circuit 
 stewards. They, too, had a confident look 
 about them, which seemed to say, we're ready 
 for a brush, for we know we can win. There 
 was no mistaking their appearance as being 
 church functionaries of some kind. They wore 
 black coats of peculiar cut, and heavy wh.tish 
 neckerchiefs : only one or two were dressed in 
 a more worldly fashion. 
 
 Mrs. Baker also had company. A few of 
 the members of her class had, as usual, remain 
 ed after their religious duties were over, 
 among whom was Mrs. Manners. Altogether, 
 there was a good number of persons present, 
 mostly all of one mind, and lively in anticipa 
 tion of an assured success. Tea had been
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 provided for nil, and tlie various topics pleas 
 antly discussed at the table were on this occa 
 sion particularly interesting. After Mr. Baker 
 and hia friends had partaken ot the good 
 cheer, they retired, as if for a short rehearsal 
 of the respective parts to be performed at the 
 meeting. During their absence, the ladies 
 continued sipping at their cups, and were en 
 gaged in the frivolous chat which among 
 church-members becomes almost religious un 
 der the mild inspiration of Young Hyson. 
 
 Mrs. Mannors made some anxious inquiries 
 about Mr. Capel. He had not yet returned 
 from the circuit, but was expecled every mo 
 ment. She wished to let him know how 
 pleased her husband felt that he consented to 
 make her house his home for a season. She 
 contented herself in the mean time, however, 
 by edifying her sisters with the relation of a 
 very strange dream she had had since her first 
 meeting with the young preacher, and she 
 was curious to know what would be his inter 
 pretation. 
 
 The church of the Rev. Caleb Howe, the 
 regular Baptist minister, was a plainer edifice 
 than St. Andrew's, but fully as large, and 
 might possibly accommodate a greater num 
 ber. Its pews were not so richly cushioned as 
 the luxurious dens of the Presbyterian sanctu 
 ary, and, therefore, not so liable to be injured 
 during demonstrations at religious anniversa 
 ries. The building was brilliantly lighted up ; a 
 spacious platform had be-n erected and cover 
 ed wi'h rich carpeting. There was a fine arm 
 chair for the president, and a small table at 
 which the secretary could sit. with a sufficient 
 number of chairs for the accommodation of 
 the reverend gentlemen, and other speakers 
 who were expected to address the meeting. It 
 was yet early in the evening ; only a few elder 
 ly persons had entered the pews, and several la 
 dies of the congregation were completing sun 
 dry little arrangements necessary for the occa 
 sion. 
 
 There were two large arched doorways in 
 front of the building. In a few minutes, there 
 was a rush of persons through them, who, upon 
 entering the church, hastily took possession 
 of the front seats and pews, and of such other 
 places as would afford the best views of the 
 different speakers. The rush continued. In 
 they came, disorderly enough ; there was crush 
 ing and crowding for any spot nearest the 
 platform, and with many persons there was as 
 little propriety of manner as if they had been 
 jostling each other at a circus. The respect 
 usually shown for the house of the Lord now 
 seemed to have been forgotten, and so punctual 
 was the attendance on this particular evening, 
 that in about half an hour from the time of 
 the first rush, the church was completely filled 
 in every part ; even standing-room in any spot 
 of the building could be found but with 
 great difficulty. There was a perfect jam ; 
 and many of the more orderly church-goers 
 wondered, no doubt, at the very unusual zeal 
 or fervor exhibited by such a number of pro 
 fessed Christiana. 
 
 There was not, however, the same hurry 
 hown to occupy the platform ; the chairs 
 were yet vacant ; and although there were a 
 few elders and deacons present, they merely 
 
 stood conversing in a quiet corner, as if await 
 ing orders. There were none of the rulers 
 ' yet to be seen, unless the Rev. Mr. Howe, the 
 pastor of the church, might be called one of 
 that class. He was of course there to receive 
 those who were about to honor his tabernacle ; 
 and lest there should be any show of impa- 
 I tience exhibited by the expectant crowd, he 
 directed the choir to sing an anthem. The 
 trained voices were soon heard ; but before the 
 anthem was ended, the Rev. Doctor Buster 
 had been allotted The most conspicuous place 
 on the carpeted elevation. He was followed 
 or attended by the Kev. Mr. Campbell, and one 
 or two others. The doctor had scarcely been 
 seated before the Rev. Jonah Hall took up a 
 position, and, immediai ely afterward, the Rev. 
 James Baker, Mr. Capel, and the secretary, 
 took their seats upon the platform. As each 
 minister made his appearance, he made rather 
 a formal bow to his clerical brethren, and a 
 kind of partisan greeting could be heard here 
 and there from people in the pews, though 
 not sufficiently loud to attract any particular 
 attention. 
 
 Other preachers had arrived ; every thing 
 was now ready. The different ministers and 
 speakers were seated like enthroned saints be 
 fore the assembly, and a deep silence prevail 
 ed, something of the same nature as the omi 
 nous stillness which it is said precedes for a 
 short time an impending battle, while the 
 combatants stand ranged before each other 
 awaiting the dread command for the begin 
 ning of deadly strife. 
 
 The Rev. Mr. Howe, pastor of the chuich, 
 stepped, at last, to the front of the secretary's 
 table and gave out a hymn. He read it slow 
 ly, and then the choir, aided by a few of the 
 ministers and by several voices in the body of 
 the church, sung it through. Mr. Howe then 
 called on the Rev. Andrew Campbell to offer 
 up a prayer. That gentleman stood up, and 
 having piously closed his eyes and lifted his 
 hand, began a prayer which for genuine fer 
 vency could not be surpassed. He alluded to 
 the gross darkness which once prevailed over 
 the whole earth, and to the great and glorious 
 effects of the Gospel in enlightening the hu 
 man mind, and in dispelling t\:s clouds of 
 error and superstition which in times past had 
 overshadowed the world. He spok of the 
 salutary influence of Christianity on the heart, 
 and of its power in softening and humani/.ing 
 men who were by nature and habit hardened 
 in iniquity. Without the Gospel, what would 
 the world be, how deplorable the condition of 
 mankind ; but what blessed results had follow 
 ed in its footsteps. Now, the scoffer and un 
 believer could witness its efficacy in bringing 
 together men who were once aliens ; in mak 
 ing men of every land and clime love each 
 other with childlike simplicity, and in estab 
 lishing a spirit of union and harmony among 
 all who became subject to its divine influence. 
 Yes, it was the proud boast of Christianity 
 that it was peculiarly the religion of peace 
 and love. 
 
 The reverend gentleman toiled for some 
 time through the various repetitions of hia 
 prayer : he was felt to be tedious ; but he, 
 worthy man, was almost tearfully affected by
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 35 
 
 the solemn sound of his own words, and no [ and activity of the Rev. Mr. Hall in arresting 
 
 doubt many persons in the church followec 
 him in his pious ejaculations. But there were 
 two or three friends near him. who, although 
 in the various attitudes of devotion most ap 
 proved of by their respective sects, did not 
 seem to heed his petition, but were intently 
 watching 1 the peculiar expression of his face 
 The Rev. James Baker knelt on one side of 
 him, while the Rev. Jonah Hall stood in the 
 opposite direction ; and, although neither of 
 the ministers could see the other, their steady 
 gaxe was fixed on the Importuning pastor of 
 St. Andrew's as if perfectly astonished by the 
 liberality of his address, or at some personal 
 singularity which seemed to engage their 
 whole attention. 
 
 When the prayer was ended, another an 
 them was sung by the choir with good effect ; 
 and at the conclusion of this service, the sec 
 retary intimated that, as the president was 
 unavoidably absent, it would be necessary to 
 appoint a chairman, in order that the report 
 might be read and the business of the eve 
 ning forwarded. 
 
 He had scarcely finished these words before 
 several persons started up, each as it deter 
 mined upon mVming a different gentleman for 
 chairman. This was the cause of some con 
 fusion, as nobody could be distinctly heard. 
 At last, during a momentary pause, the Rev. 
 Mr. Baker rose, and moved that Thomas Bol 
 ster, Esq., take the chair. 
 
 Mr. Wesley Jacobs, a local preacher, second 
 ed the motion. 
 
 Mr. John Thompson, a deacon of the Regu 
 lar Baptists, said lie regretted that such a mo 
 tion had been made ; it was a great breach 
 of decorum to nominate any other than the 
 vice president ; it was his place to take the 
 chair in the absence of the president. He 
 thought the motion of Mr. Baker was signifi 
 cant ; it boded no good to the society. He 
 would therefore move in amendment that the 
 vice-president do take the chair. 
 
 The Rev. Doctor Buster said it was a very 
 unusual thing indeed to exclude at a public 
 meeting any officer from his proper place. 
 The position of chairman was due this eve 
 ning to the vice-president, and he would second 
 the amendment. 
 
 There was then a great outcry on the plat 
 form. The Revs. Baker, Campbell, Dr. Bus- 
 to; 1 , an! others, all vociferating together, either 
 t"r or against the amendment; while, at the 
 3>une time, strong symptoms of excitement 
 were manifest among the people. 
 
 Shouts of " Motion, motion, motion" were 
 now heard around ; and the secretary after some 
 delay and much altercation declared the 
 amendment carried, and called on Mr. Thomas 
 Johnson, the vice-president, to take the chair. 
 
 A scene of great confusion now ensued ; 
 
 his backward descent. 
 
 The Rev. Caleb Howe cried out, " Order, or 
 der, order I" and declared that such conduct 
 was most disgraceful. He was going on to 
 speak, but fresh cries of "Chair, chair, chair!" 
 obliged him to retire without being further 
 heard. 
 
 The vice-president at last became seated ; but 
 the Rev. Mr. Baker in an excited manner im 
 mediately cried out ; " I protest against thia 
 decision. The chairman has not yet been 
 fairly appointed ; I move that " 
 
 Here the uproar increased to such an extent 
 that many left the pews and got upon the 
 platform, which was now nearly crowded. 
 Doctor Buster and the Rev. Jonah Hall stood 
 face to face, a- if boldly defying each other, and 
 using gestures which might lead one every 
 moment to expect that the argument between 
 these brethren was not going to be entirely 
 decided by mere noisy words. 
 
 The vice-president, in order the better to at 
 tract attention, now stood on the chair, and 
 winding about his arms, loudly demanded to 
 be heard even for a few moments. He must 
 have had some courage to do this ; for he was 
 swayed about on his narrow standing place 
 and one might expect every instant to see him 
 fall over on the heads of the reverend comba 
 tants by whom he was surrounded. 
 
 " If you are Christians, I demand to be 
 heard, I wish to say a few words. I will not 
 detain you. Let me say only a " 
 
 The Rev. Doctor Buster fairly staggered 
 under the load of humanity that had just 
 Hopped into his arms. The poor vice-presi 
 dent was as much astonished at the suddenness 
 of his own descent. There was no time for 
 apology, and he as suddenly remounted the 
 chair ; and while the doctor was trying to re 
 cover his surprise and look calm, the vice-presi 
 dent again demanded the right to be heard for 
 a few moments. 
 
 Appearances were now becoming more 
 favorable for him. Voices from all sides were 
 heard, and the words " Hear him, hear him !" 
 came so fast and loud, that all seemed willing 
 for a new issue by hearing somebody. 
 
 The vice-president then said, that it had 
 been objected that he should occupy the chair 
 at that meeting. Why such an objection was 
 raised, he could not say. He did not wish to 
 laim any right to dictate, but this he did 
 inow, that in any other place, or on any other 
 occasion, or among the most worldly people, 
 more respect would have been shown to any 
 one occupying the position of vice-president 
 of a society than had been shown to him by 
 that assembly of Gospel ministers and profess- 
 ng Christians ; even the well-known decency 
 and decorum observed among open unbelievers 
 should put them to shame. The usages of 
 
 people in different parts of the church were | Exeter Hall were entirely different ; such con- 
 using ioud, angry words ; and the wild and 
 
 rapid gesticulations of many almost terrified 
 the trreater number of ladies present. 
 
 The vice-president then moved toward the 
 chair, but it was pulled aside just as he was 
 going to take his seat, and he would have 
 fallen violently, were it not for the readiness 
 
 duct would not be tolerated there for a mo 
 ment. The professed object of the meeting 
 that evening was to promote the circulation of 
 the Holy Scriptures ; but it was apparent that 
 that was not the sole object of all present. 
 If a sectarian battle had to be fought in that 
 place, he would not be the umpire ; neither
 
 86 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 would he be the standard-bearer for any party. 
 He only saw an array of sect against sect, and 
 not a union of well disposed men. He would 
 now leave the chair, for he was pained to see 
 Christianity so degraded by its professed 
 friends. 
 
 " Then leave it at once," shouted some one 
 at his elbow, after which there was cheering 
 and hisses. 
 
 The Eev. Mr. Baker again called lustily for 
 his nominee, Mr. Bolster. " I again demand 
 that Mr. Bolster rake the chair." 
 
 The noise was now much increased ; there 
 were hootings and cat calls from several parts ; 
 and the Rev. Mr. Howe once more tried to say 
 something, but could not get a hearing. 
 
 The Rev. Jonah Hall here rushed to the 
 front, raising and flourishing his shut fist ; he 
 wanted to know if British law would not pro 
 tect them in their just rights ; he wanted to 
 know if A concert of yells prevented another 
 word from being heard, and after a continued 
 struggle with the discordant crowd before him, 
 he was forced to retire ; but all the while 
 made desperate efforts to raise his voice high 
 er and higher. 
 
 The platform was now one scene of confu 
 sion. Doctor Buster still sat with an apparent 
 stubborn indifference to what was going on ; 
 he cast occasional side glances at his Reverend 
 brothers Hall, and Baker, and thought what 
 a relief it would then be to him could he con 
 sistently throw aside, but for a few moments, 
 his wearied, injured dignity, and give these 
 irritating brethren a slight evidence of his 
 physical power even of his right arm and 
 shut fist or even the laying on of but one 
 hand, that they long might remember. But 
 this could not be ; and the doctor still sat 
 looking quietly at the sidelights one would 
 think the most patient of men heroically in- 
 rifferent to the squabbles of contending cler 
 gy and official members. Yes, there the doc 
 tor sat in exemplary forbearance, as the distin 
 guished moderator of the General Assembly. 
 
 The Rev. Mr. Campbell was, however, very 
 much agitated. He had for the last half hour 
 made several attempts to speak ; but as sure as 
 he began, his words were drowned in groans, 
 and hisses, and yells, innumerable ; one could 
 see his lips and jaws going, in a vain effort to 
 make himself heard ; yet, after having manful 
 ly faced the storm, making the best use of his 
 most practiced frowns, he had to retire in con 
 fusion from shouts of laughter. What made 
 his case worse was, that by some means in the 
 melee one of the glasses of his spectacles got 
 knocked out ; and as he violently waved 
 and nodded his head about, the remaining 
 glass gave his face a singular appearance as 
 if he were trying to wink continually with 
 but one glistening eye. 
 
 Again, cries and yells came from all parts 
 of the church : " Chair, chair!" "Campbell !" 
 " Bolster !" " Buster !" " Baker !" " Hall !" and 
 then there was a waving of hats and hand 
 kerchiefs ; and even many of the ladies now 
 caught the excitement, and held up their 
 hands, waving away violently whenever a 
 favorite name was shouted. 
 
 It was now felt by nearly all present who 
 could still think with any calmness within the 
 
 circle of such a babel that to try and hold a 
 meeting that night, and in that church, was, 
 or would be, an utter impossibility. With the 
 exception of Mr. Capel, and another young 
 minister, every preacher, and deacon, and el 
 der in the place was as excited and as ready 
 for fight as his neighbor ; and the continued 
 shouting, and laughter, and confusion in the 
 body of the church was almost deafening. 
 The secretary had prudently bundled up his 
 books and papers, and stepped down from the 
 platform, anxious to push through the agitated 
 mob that was still crushing and crowding. 
 With some difficulty he was permitted to force 
 his way to a side door, where he and a few 
 others found egress from the building, and 
 who were, no doubt, glad to reach the open air 
 again. 
 
 At this stage of the proceedings, when near 
 ly all were satisfied that it would be useless 
 to try to transact any business, perhaps the 
 only person then within the church who could 
 say with any effect, "Peace, be still !" now ad 
 vanced toward the secretary's table. There 
 was no trace of either fear or excitement upon 
 his countenance ; he was perfectly calm, and 
 his very appearance created such an interest 
 in his favor that all seemed anxious to hoar 
 him speak. There was a lull in the stcrm, 
 and in a few minutes the breathing of an in 
 fant might have been heard, so great was the 
 sudden stillness. 
 
 Mr. Capel then stood before the people, and 
 in a low, but audible voice, addressed them. 
 
 He said he was but a stranger, and he 
 might say in a strange land. He had but 
 lately left his own country to labor in their 
 favored island, and in the vineyard of the 
 Lord, among the followers of Knox, and Bax 
 ter, and Wesley. He did not come as the 
 supporter of sectarianism. He did not want 
 to know who was for a Paul, or for an Apol- 
 los, or for a Cephas ; but who was for Christ. 
 He appeared that night before them as his 
 unworthy servant, to say that he was grieved 
 at the great disunion manifested, and that it 
 was plain to perceive that they seemed entire 
 ly forgetful of the great object for which they 
 had ostensibly met. As it was, it would be 
 now better to depart in peace, until some 
 more gracious opportunity would bring them 
 together. He felt pained" to say one word by 
 way of reproach, but he must speak plainly, 
 and say, that God was dishonored among his 
 own people, and in his own house. He would 
 now ask all present to retire, and not by any 
 further attempts at discord to bring the Gos 
 pel into contempt and give a triumph to un 
 believers. 
 
 He spoke some time longer in the same 
 strain ; and his words had the desired effect 
 with a number of persons. A great many 
 immediately left the building ; but the spirit 
 of contention was not yet subdued, and the 
 speaker no sooner took his seat than some 
 one cried out : 
 
 "A speech from Doctor Buster! Buster, 
 wake up !" 
 
 The learned doctor felt indignant to be 
 thus rudely called out to face a rabble ; but he 
 apparently suppressed every feeling of agita 
 tion by merely turning his elegant eye-glass
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 37 
 
 In the direction from where the voice had 
 proceeded. 
 
 Shouts were; again renewed for " Buster 1" 
 "Baker I" "Campbell!" "Hall!" Numbers 
 were leaving the church as fast as they could ; 
 nearly all the ministers had left, hut there 
 were many who remained jeering, shouting, 
 and laughing, determined, as they Baid, " to 
 see the fun out." The church had now a dim 
 appearance ; it was getting gloomy, as the gas 
 had been turned off in many places : but there 
 atill lingered on the platform a set of reckless 
 fellows, as if expecting something else to oc 
 cur, and their expectations were soon gratified. 
 
 There was one of these, a strong partisan 
 of Mr. Baker, who was an adept at mimicry, 
 and who tried, as if on a stage, to give a bur 
 lesque representation of the air and manner 
 of Doctor Buster, and to turn the moderator 
 in o ridicule. This conduct was not approved 
 of by at least one stout man, who, with a 
 heavy stick, struck the mock actor a violent 
 blow, and was going to repeat the experi 
 ment, when in a moment there was a rush of 
 excited persons, and the platform was at once 
 converted into something like a prize ring. 
 Two angry men were struggling for posses 
 sion of the stick, and there was a swaying to 
 and fro among a knot of men, pushing and 
 kicking in all directions. 
 
 At this time, the noise could be heard some 
 distance from the church ; seats were knocked 
 about, pew-doors pulled off, and books torn ; 
 and were it not for the timely arrival of a 
 party of constables, the building itself might 
 have been much injured. The sectarian revel 
 was over ; no good had been done, no dele 
 gate had been chosen, hut the reverend chief 
 actors in their jealousy had determined, each 
 for his party, to support independently and 
 more fully, with God's help, the noble cause of 
 cheap Bibles at the next great anniversary in 
 Exeter Hall.* 
 
 When Mr. Baker got home that night, he 
 felt highly pleased, and in the best humor. 
 With his open hand he gave his wife a hearty 
 slap between the shoulders, and said : " I told 
 you we would be ready for Campbell. Ha, 
 ha! I wonder what the great Dr. Buster 
 now thinks of us ! He tries to make others be 
 lieve that Methodist influence is waning. I 
 fancy his notion is a little changed already. 
 Let them send a delegate to Exeter Hall, and 
 we will show ourselves there too, by way of 
 no thanks. God will prosper us, in spite of 
 all they can do. Won't poor Campbell pray 
 for us after this? Ha, ha!" 
 
 Mrs. Baker, good woman, though not at all 
 dissatisfied at the result of the meeting, was 
 yet more guarded in her expressions ; she saw 
 that Mr. Capel was very silent : she knew that 
 young preachers, like fresh converts, are for a 
 time very ardent and fraternal, and she did 
 not wish that any thing should be said to 
 make him feel that her husband was too sec 
 tarian, or forgetful of his position as a Chris 
 tian minister. Nevertheless, she was greatly 
 pi eased that the Presbyterian scheme was de 
 feated, and her faith grew stronger and 
 stronger in the God of Wesleyanism. 
 
 After Mr. Capel had retired to his r .; m he 
 
 * See Note B. 
 
 felt like one that had been dreaming. He 
 fancied that he still sat on the platform : he 
 saw the people before him ; he saw the glare 
 of lights, and he again heard the wild oonfu 
 sion. Was it all a dream ? He could hardly 
 realize that he had been to a church where a 
 public meeting was to have been held by se 
 rious Christian men, and that from the hatred 
 of sects the work of the Lord had been en 
 tirely disregarded, in order to secure a secta 
 rian triumph. Could he believe that such 
 loud profession should, after all, be but as " a 
 sounding brass or tinkling cymbal ;" that 
 men who loved their Bibles, and who prayed 
 and wept for sinners, should exhibit such ha 
 tred toward each other? Was this the grand 
 result of what the Gospel had done for them 
 was this Christianity? And if that Gospel 
 had thus failed in controlling the impulses of 
 the semi-civilized of Britain, what could it do 
 among barbarians at Madagascar? He had 
 often discovered hypocritical professors of re 
 ligion, but he did not expect to witness such 
 actual jealousy and hatred among a class, 
 many of whom had made an open declaration 
 of faith, and who had solemnly testified that 
 they felt moved by the Spirit of God to go and 
 preach the Gospel. Were these men mad or 
 deluded? Why were there so many creeds, 
 even among Protestants, bitterly anathema 
 tizing each other as teachers of error ? If the 
 Scriptures were truth, and if the truth was so 
 plain, why so much contention why such di 
 versity of opinion ? He then dwelt upon the 
 historical havoc caused by Christianity, and 
 the solemn question arose : What has the Bi 
 ble done for mankind? 
 
 In times of great doubt or perplexity, Mr. 
 Capel often resorted to the common practice of 
 opening his Bible, and reading the first pas 
 sage or text that met his eye. In doing this, 
 he sometimes thought that he had found 
 many comforting assurances. He now opened 
 the " inspired book" in several places, but con 
 flicting verses only caused greater depression. 
 
 " No man hath seen God at any time." John 1 : 18. 
 " For I have seen God face to face, and my life is pre 
 served." Gen. 32 : 30. 
 
 " And God saw every thing that he had made, and 
 behold it was very good." Gen. 1 : 31. 
 
 " And it repentecjthe Lord that he had made man on 
 the earth, aim it grieved him at his heart." Gen. 6 : 6. 
 
 " For I am the Lord ; I change not." Mai. 3 : 6. 
 
 "For God is not the author of confusion, but of 
 peace." 1 Cor. 14 : 33. 
 
 " I make peace and create evil, I the Lord do all these 
 things." Is. 45 : 7. 
 
 " Out of the mouth of the Most High proceedeth not 
 evil and good." Lam. 3 : 18. 
 
 "For every one that asketh receiveth, and he that 
 seeketh ftndeth, and to him that knocketh, it shall be 
 opened." Matt. 7 : 8. 
 
 " Then shall they call upon me, but I will not answer- 
 they shall seek me early, but they shall not find me." 
 Prov. 1 : 28. 
 
 " Let no man say when he is tempted, I am tempted 
 of God : for God can not be tempted with evil, neither 
 tempteth he any man." Jas. 1 : 13. 
 
 " And it came to pass after these things that God cud 
 tempt Abraham." Gen. 22 : 1. 
 
 " If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God that 
 giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth uot ; and 
 It shall be given him." Jas. 1 : 5.
 
 88 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 " He hath blinded their eyes and hardened their | circumstance in the narration. Certain ungod 
 u eart, that they should not nee with their eyes nor 
 understand with their heart, and be converted, and I 
 
 heart, that they should not see with their eyes nor j j y correspondents and news-mongers had sup- 
 
 should heal them. John 12 : 40. 
 
 " Who will have all men to be saved, and to come 
 nnto the knowledge of the truth.'''' 1 Tim. 2 : 4. 
 
 " And for this cause God shall send them strong de 
 lusion that they should believe a lie." 2 Thess. 2 : 11. 
 
 God delude men unto the belief of a lie! 
 Could this be so? 
 
 plied exciting accounts of the fracas at the 
 Bible meeting, and the burlesque of the cleri 
 cal actors thereat was made particularly ex 
 travagant The priest who was reading the 
 paper, Father Thomas McGlinn, was about fifty 
 years of age, a stout, low-sized man, with dark 
 hair. He had a very red face, and the top of 
 
 He paused a long time, and i his nose was remarkably florid ; and when he 
 his finger still touched the passage he had | laughed, he displayed a set of teeth which with 
 just read. If the Lord is" abundant in good- j ordinary care might be warranted to last him 
 ness and truth," can he or will he ensnare a for another half-century. He was a ruddy, 
 
 man to his own destruction? This was what 
 he now thought ; and the contradictory texts 
 which ha 1 opened to him seemed to rise up 
 a horrible cloud of doubt, cold, bleak, and des 
 olate. He was startled, and looked eagerly 
 
 jovial, good-natured looking person ; and he 
 had to utter but one won! to satisfy you of his 
 pure Milesiau extraction. His ready wit and 
 humor were genuine, and would have at once 
 obtained for him the standing of a " rale jolly 
 
 around as if hope and happiness had left him i Irish gintleuian" even though appearing, like 
 forever. Again he ventured to seek another j many of his predecessors, as a missionary from 
 
 text, and read : 
 
 " The Lord is merciful and gracious, slow to anger 
 and plenteous in mercy." Ps. 103 : 8. 
 
 " His anger endureth but a moment." Ps. 30 : 5. 
 
 "The Lord is very pitiful and of tender mercy. Jas. 
 5: 11. 
 
 "For his mercy endureth forever." 1 Chron. 16 : 34. 
 
 These were blessed reassuring words ; and 
 he opened the book again. 
 
 " I will not pity, nor spare, nor have-mercy, but de- 
 etroy." Jer. 13 : 14. 
 
 " If I whet my glittering sword, and mine hand take 
 hold on judgment, I will render vengeance to mine ene 
 mies and reward them that hate me. I will make 
 mine arrows drunk with blood, and my sword shall 
 devour flesh ; and that with the blood of the slain and 
 of the captives from the beginning of revenges upon 
 the enemy." Dent. 
 
 " Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire." 
 Matt 25 : 41. 
 
 Agan he relapsed into despondency ! For 
 the first time he began to think whether he 
 could really love an omnipotent Being who 
 was so implacable. He closed the Bible and 
 put it aside, and then sat with his head re 
 clined on the table until it was far in the 
 night, thinking of the crimes, and battles, and 
 brutalities ; and of the butcheries, murders, 
 blood, and obscenities, recorded as the author 
 ized transactions of a benevolent Deity. He 
 shuddered at the fearful record ; it was revolt 
 ing ! Was there blasphemy on his lips when 
 he muttered, " Good God ! It is like the rev 
 elation of a fiend !" ? Again he bent his head, 
 and as the spectral shadows of his own 
 thoughts closed around him, he became 
 startled from his reverie of skepticism, to re 
 tire languidly to bed; and the clock struck 
 more than one tedious hour before he could 
 again visit the smiling friends and beautiful 
 land of his dreams. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 DURING the forenoon of the day after the 
 disturbance in the Baptist church, three priests 
 were leisurely pacing up and down the in 
 
 I the Emerald Isle to the heretical and de 
 luded Sassenach. His two companions were 
 also natives of the same country, so j ustly re 
 puted for its heroic men, and virtuous women. 
 " Well, begorra, Father Mick," said he, raising 
 his fist and bring ng it down on the paper 
 with a whop, " fast day and all as it is, I'd like 
 to dhrink the fellow's health that upset the 
 chairman; it was so nately done as a com 
 mencement. Oh ! divil a better." 
 
 " Faith, I wouldn't mind to do the same 
 myself," said Father Mick Daily, the priest on 
 his right, " even if it should come to the ears 
 of the bishop that the dose was a little extra." 
 
 " By my sowl," said Father Tom, " Buster, ay 
 they call him, musn't have felt very comfort 
 able with such a gorsoon in his arms ; 'twas an 
 affecting sight. Didn't Campbell cut a pretty 
 figure with his one glass eye ? Well, bedad, 
 but it was a beautiful row at any rate. What 
 a blessing it was to see the pack of haythens 
 pitching into each other ; and if it wasn't foi 
 the cloth, I wouldn't want better fun than to 
 be there myself. 'Tis a pity the ould joker of 
 a moderator didn't lave the sign of the cross 
 on some of them ; but sure that sign isn't iu 
 his track, and never will be." 
 
 " And d'ye mind the Rev. Jonah," said 
 Father Dennis Lynch, the other priest, '' Jonah 
 didn't lave them have their own way for noth 
 ing. There's a dhrop of the blood in that fel 
 low. if he had only the training. He stood up 
 bef)re the moderator in rale style. That 
 sama Jonah is a whale in himself, and 
 wouldn't mind taking a hand in, if he had a 
 good backer." 
 
 " Och ! isn't Baker a beauty," said Father 
 Tom; " swaddler and ranter and all as he is, 
 he is able for them. He gave the Knox men 
 a fall baker's dozen on the occasion. How tbo 
 divil did he escape a wall >ping at all at all ? 
 It's a wonder that Buster didn't moderate him 
 with a pax tecum betune the eyes." 
 
 " But, Father Tom, didn't you know that 
 Capel T asked Father Mick. 
 
 " To be sure he did," at once replied the Rev. 
 Dennis Lynch ; "he used to live near Blackpool, 
 
 closed yard connected with the Roman Catholic in Cork." 
 chapel at Moorfields. They were walking i " Oh ! no ; you're wrong," said Father Tom, 
 abreast, rind only the middle clergyman wore " Harry Capel's father lived on Patrick street ; 
 his soutane,. He was reading a morning he was a saddler ; but whin I knew him, he 
 
 paper for their edification, and occasionally 
 they would laugh heartily at some ludicrous 
 
 was in the police. He was a daycent creature 
 enough to be among such a gang. Many a
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 
 pot of Beamish and Crawford's porter we had 
 together b^t'ow I went to Maynooth." 
 
 "But, wasn't he a rale paudreeii?" asked 
 Father Lynch. 
 
 " Pauureen ? Musha he was, and he 
 wasn't," replied Father Tom. " Divil a much 
 he cared what he was, at any rate. He's 
 dead now, God rest his sowl 1 'Twould be 
 woll for the ould sod if there was more like 
 him ' 
 
 " Well, isn't this Capel, who is mentioned 
 in the paper, his son ? and if he is, ho\v the mis 
 chief did he get among the swaddlers?" 
 
 "Sure you know," replied Father Tom, " his 
 ould mother was always among them, and nev 
 er aisy whin she wasn't psalm-singing or street 
 begging for them hungry thieves of preachers. 
 Her husband, poor Tom Capel, left her have 
 her own way with the children, as well as 
 with every thing else. He didn't much care ; 
 in fact, it was said that he was one of these 
 free-thinkers that are now so plenty, and he 
 never asked whether she went to a Cathedral, 
 or Conventicle, or to Quakers' meeting ; she 
 might go to a Synagogue for the matter of 
 that. He used to say, by way of a joke, that if 
 there was any difference they were all alike. 
 She, of coorse, hoisted the children away with 
 her. But, dod help us ! they're all dead 
 now ; Harry is the only one left." 
 
 " Well, isn't he a swaddling preacher, doesn't 
 he rant along with the rest 'I Of coorse he's 
 promoted to the saddle-bags ?" 
 
 " Well, I believe he is ; but sure his mother 
 wouldn't let him rest until he promised to go 
 and do the work of the Lord, rambling about 
 like a showman. I met him by chance the 
 other day, and he tould me that they sent him 
 out to Hampstead witu ould Baker. Someway, 
 I don'i. think he cares for that wandering kind 
 of a life. He's honest in his error, anyway ; 
 there's a good deal of his father in him, and 
 the Lord knows what he may be yet. But, 
 Father Dinny,' said the priest, lowering his 
 voice to seriousness, " he is now like ourselves ; 
 lie is just what circumstances have made him ; 
 exactly so. He has had no control over the 
 circumstances of his birth, of his country, or 
 of his religion ; he is now what he was brought 
 up to be, and in Turkey he might have beeu a 
 Mussulman, or in India he might have been a 
 Brau uiin or a Parsee ; and so might we." 
 
 " Very good, Father Tom, very good ; if the 
 bishop heard all that, I wonder what he'd 
 think of one of his priests ? He'd make you 
 cry ' inea culp'i' during secula stcitlomiii,." 
 
 " Bathershin, faith he might, Dinny ; but 
 many a time, in my own qixiet way, I've made 
 the bishop stagger a little himself, ay, just 
 while you'd be looking about you. His mitre 
 doesn't cover an inch more brain than he got 
 from his mother, may be not so much ; and if 
 his father had been a Quaker, the bishop, in 
 stead of wearing a mitre, uiignt figure about 
 with a broad brimmed hat and a drab coat, 
 eh, Dinny?" 
 
 " Be me sowl," said Father Lynch, " you'll 
 have to say the seven penitential psalms | 
 backward for this, and may be a few dozen 
 extra paters and aoes in the bargain. Och! 
 what's the use in talking ? Sure, we know your 
 ways. But faith, Tom, we must be going, and 
 
 we'll expect to meet you at five. You know 
 we can't have much of a dinner to-day divil 
 take these fasts but any way, if we don't have 
 any tiling stronger we'll have a noggin of 
 holy water and a rosary together. And, Father 
 Tom, acushla, as I b'lieve you've got some 
 dealings with the Ould Boy, after all is over, 
 and if you're able to stand, I'll exorcise you." 
 
 " Faith you may, Dinny ; but if I was to re 
 turn the compliment, after the job was done, 
 I might only hear the cackle of a goose in 
 stead of a yell from your friend with the 
 hoof and horns." And here, with mock piety, 
 Father Tom made the sign of the cross on his 
 forehead with the thumb of his right hand. 
 
 A general laugh then took place : the two 
 priests went their way, and Father Tom was 
 left alone. For a few minutes he continued 
 walking rather briskly around the consecrated 
 building ; he then paced more leisurely, and 
 seemed in deep thought, as if bearing some 
 mental burden which caused him anxiety ; 
 and he often paused, looking down intently at 
 the hallowed ground upon which he stood. 
 
 The Irish Catholic population of the city of 
 London is very large, and wherever the Irish 
 people go, the priest is sure to follow. Between 
 the Irish Catholic and his priest, there has ever 
 existed, not merely warm friendship, but 
 strong affection ; the presence of a priest in 
 an Irish neighborhood is almost indispens 
 able, and, should he, as is asserted, venture on 
 the occasional use of the blackthorn by way 
 of argument, or as an incentive for the per 
 formance of duty, many consider it his pri"i- 
 lege and submit ; while with others less under 
 control, it is a matter which can be soon for 
 gotten. As a general rale, it is only regarded 
 as a friendly mode of persuasion rather than 
 an act of clerical tyranny. 
 
 Now, throughout the city of London there 
 was not a priest, no matter what his degree, 
 could rival Father Tom McGHinn in the affec 
 tions of the Irish Catholics; he was beloved 
 even by children, who, it must be confessed, 
 have a kind of instinctive dread of any person 
 wearing a soutane ; but his heart overflowed 
 with good nature, and children forgot that he 
 was a priest when they saw him smile. Then 
 he boasted of " ould Ireland," and of his 
 countrymen, and of Cork, his native city ; and 
 at certain times when he grew into a peculiar 
 ly soft mood, he would talk and sing about 
 the " Bells of Shandon," and of the river Lee, 
 and of Sundays-Well, until the remem 
 brance of these fond things and places filled 
 his good-natured eyes with big tears ; and, 
 priest as he was, he felt just as kindly disposed 
 to his countrymen of all creeds as if they 
 were members of his own church. Indeed, 
 after all, he seldom judged of a man by hia 
 nation ; nationality was an idea out of which 
 he tried to grow : but on occasions when he 
 used to recount the wrongs inflicted by Britain 
 upon his church and country, then he asserted 
 his nationality, and became almost vindic 
 tive. 
 
 For many years Father Tom officiated ia 
 Cork, under the friendly eye of Doctor Mur 
 phy, its Catholic bishop ; but after the death 
 of that prelate, he took a notion to remove to 
 London; he was successful in obtaining a
 
 40 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 good parish, and among the priests as well as 
 among the people of that city he became a 
 great favorite. If, however, he had many of 
 the virtues of his countrymen, he had also a 
 few of their failings. Although he had been 
 intimate for a long period with the late Father 
 Mathew, and had expressed an approval of 
 his temperance principles, yet, with regard to 
 self-indulgence in one particular, he never had 
 strength of mind sufficient to turn up his nose 
 at a tumbler of hot whisky-punch, that is 
 to say, after a certain hour toward evening. 
 His adherence to the temperance pledge, if he 
 ever took it, only lasted during the excite 
 ment of the time, and like a majority of his 
 countrymen he relapsed into a usage almost 
 canonical among the clergy. 
 
 He was, however, a little singular in this 
 respect, he seemed to have his appetite under 
 perfect control ; for no human being could in 
 duce him to touch a drop of strong liquor un 
 til after the clock had struck three in the 
 afternoon ; he might then take an odd tumbler 
 immediately before dinner, just to regulate 
 his appetite, but when that meal was over, 
 particularly if he had a few genial friends 
 with him, he would resolutely confine his legs 
 under the mahogany and drink and debate, 
 and debate and drink, until every opponent 
 was silenced, or until every man was reduced 
 to a state of blissful oblivion. On such oc 
 casions, Father Tom became fiercely polemi 
 cal, and was rewarded by the sobriquet of 
 " Controversial Tom." 
 
 About the time that Father Tom had im 
 bibed a dozen tumblers, his eyes would attain 
 an unnatural brightness, and he used to 
 say that he was then getting " into good 
 tune ;" after that, no matter how mucli more 
 he swallowed, it seemed to have no other ef 
 fect than that of increasing his thirst, and he 
 could then be scarcely civil to any man in his 
 company whom he thought could not stand 
 the thirtieth tumbler. 
 
 To spend a night, then, with Father Tom 
 was by many regarded as a privilege. After 
 his reverence got in good tune, his pecu 
 liarity was then to become controversial ; and 
 from him there was no escape. He would 
 badger away until he found an opponent no 
 matter whether priest, parson, or pope and 
 he would then argue from the fathers, and 
 from an overwhelming array of texts and 
 traditions, just as fiercely as if the very fate 
 of his church depended upon the issue ; and 
 many of his brother priests, knowing his weak 
 ness, would not let the opportunity pass, for 
 one or another was always ready to make an 
 attack and assume the position of an oppo 
 nent in order to draw him out and hear his 
 defense. At such times, his whole theme 
 would be his church and its supremacy, with 
 an occasional dash at the apostasy of Britain ; 
 and then, if he even knew that it was the 
 pope in state who disputed with him, he 
 would still argue away, quite indifferent to 
 his holiness or to the splendor of his triple 
 crown. 
 
 No two persons could be more unlike than 
 Father Tom in the forenoon and the same 
 Father Tom in the evening. He was humor 
 ous and good natured enough at all times ; 
 
 but in the morning, when reason had full con 
 trol, lie would be moro priest-like, more seri 
 ous, and more thoughtful ; in the evening, 
 when he was less troubled with doubts ana 
 speculations, he was full of wit, and at the 
 right stage, when fully primed, he would 
 mount the controversial hobby, and ride away 
 as if for dear life. 
 
 There was some secret influence, however, 
 to work this change. Father Tom in morn 
 ing conversation often expressed strange 
 opinions regarding many of the rites and 
 doctrines of his church, and even before 
 priests he would say some very startling 
 things ; but they said they knew him, wasn't 
 he " controversial Tom"? the very divil for 
 argument, and what was the use in minding 
 any thing he said ? He was, they asserted, 
 sound to the backbone, a stout defender of 
 the faith. They had often heard his exposi 
 tions after the fifteenth tumbler. That was 
 the time to see what was in him. In, vino 
 veritas. 
 
 Yet Father Tom was not understood ; for 
 years he had been troubled with grave doubts 
 concerning many points of his religious be 
 lief ; and while he had to appear before his co- 
 laborers as faithful and submissive to the 
 dicta of his church, and to manifest the con 
 ventional contempt and hostility toward hereti 
 cal teaching, yet he dreaded to subject the 
 mysteries and doctrines of his religion to the 
 ordeal of reason ; it was an insatiable inter 
 rogator ! He wa often very much perplexed, 
 and dreaded uncertainty. He loved the great 
 old ecclesiastical structures of which Peter 
 was the head. The ceremonies of the Romish 
 faith were grand and attractive, and it cost 
 him a severe struggle to entertain ideas which 
 were not strictly orthodox. The very exist 
 ence of doubt made him irritable at times, as 
 if some rapacious intruder had stealthily en 
 tered his dwelling and would not depart. He 
 tried to persuade himself into full belief ; and 
 thus it often was tlit in combating the views 
 of an imaginary opponent, he was in reality 
 trying to defeat himself, and get rid of his 
 own doubts by force of argument with an 
 other. 
 
 After his clerical friends went away, Father 
 Tom still continued pacing up and down ; 
 even the noise and street sounds of the great 
 city did not seem to distract him for a mo 
 ment. He had celebrated mass that morning, 
 and was in a short time to enter the confes 
 sional. This was a duty he disliked very 
 much, but he dare not murmur. He was still 
 superstitiously circumspect in the perform 
 ance of his various obligations as a priest, in 
 the hope that his faithfulness in holy orders 
 might yet dispel his, doubts, and enable him 
 more clearly to understand and appreciate the 
 doctrines, mysteries, and imposing ceremonies 
 of the " Mother Church." He was, in his un 
 certainty, still anxious to cling to the anci ?nt 
 faith, and to uphold its supremacy even while 
 he trampled upon his reason ; but, he dreaded 
 to investigate the authority for confession, and 
 indulgences, and invocation, and, above all, 
 the authority for transubstantiation ; this wa 
 too great a strain on his faith. He was ready 
 to admire the shapely exterior of the sepuL
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 thre, but recoiled at the idea of entering its 
 gloom, to grope amid relics and rottenness. 
 Between these things, poor Father Tom often 
 had an uneasy mind, while many of the credu 
 lous faithful with whom he was in constant 
 intercourse believed him to be the happiest 
 of men, and felt proud of him as a champion 
 of the church. 
 
 He was still moodily thinking ; and as he 
 stepped alone over the inclosed greensward, 
 he began to dwell upon what he had said 
 that morning before he administered the sac 
 rament to the few devotees wl>o were regular 
 attendants He thought again of the formal 
 words he had used wonderful, if true and 
 now, as he repeated them to himself, he stop 
 ped suddenly and frowned at their meaning, 
 and at his own partial incredulity. 
 
 " Ecce Agnus Dei Behold the Lamb of 
 God monstrous ! This can not be ; no matter 
 what either pope, or council, or bishop may 
 say to the contrary. The simple wafer which 
 I held in my hand this morning was no more 
 the Lamb of God than I am. Good God ! to 
 believe that I can swallow the great Creator 
 as I would a pill ! What an outrage on my 
 reason ! Yet how mauy believe this ; how 
 many of the learned and profound submit, 
 where I doubt ! Am I right, or am I on the 
 great highway to perdition ? Heaven direct 
 me !" And Father Tom, in his mental agita 
 tion, still stood looking intently on the ground, 
 as if he waited and longed to have the earth 
 open and swallow him up forever. He then 
 commenced to walk rapidly, and after a few 
 minutes, he entered the church ; and as he al 
 most involuntarily bent before the high altar, 
 he muttered to himself, " If this is truth, then 
 woe unto me, for I am undone !" 
 
 Father Tom was very punctual that after 
 noon ; he seemed, or tried to be, in good 
 spirits, and when he entered the domicile of 
 Father Dinny Lynch, he swept in among 
 them like a warm glow of sunshine. A more 
 jovial set of priest* never sat at a table. Be 
 sides Father Tom, and Father Mick, and 
 Father Dinny, there were two or three other 
 old friends, not in orders ; and, although it 
 was fast-day with many of the faithful, the 
 clergy seldom or never took the trouble to 
 apply for a special license to eat meat ; the 
 privilege they might grant to another they 
 could surely partake of themselves; and there 
 fore the roast and boiled on Father Dinny's 
 table appeared and disappeared in good time, 
 after which digestion was assisted by a rous 
 ing glass of schnlteen, prepared by the Rev. 
 Mr. Lynch himself, after an old receipt by one 
 of the ancient Irish Fathers. 
 
 " Well," said Father Tom, after some other 
 matters had been discussed, and who now be 
 gan to feel very comfortable and loquacious, 
 " I wish I was on the ould sod once more ; I'm 
 get'ing tired of the cockneys. You may talk 
 as you like about Saxons and Celts, and about 
 your big city your modern Sodom but give 
 me the Island o'f Saints yet, where our church 
 ran count nearly fifty to one with any other. 
 Sure, here we are "like wheat among tares, 
 cheek by jowl with Baptists, and Swaddlers, 
 and Rahtere, that are ready to tear each other 
 to pieces for the love of God. The Virgin 
 
 save \is ! Och ! the Lord be with you, sweet 
 Cork ! betune you and me, I'd like to be back 
 there now. Ullagone, sure it's not in this wil 
 dernese of brick and mortar that you'd have 
 me spend my days. Wait, Dinny avick, if I 
 don't show you a clean pair of heels it's no 
 matter." And Father Tom began, in a kind ol 
 regretful mood, to hum the " Groves of Blar 
 ney," an air which always had for him a moat 
 inspiring effect. 
 
 " Tom," said one of the priests, " give us 
 Father Prout's song ; you can do it ; you'll 
 never forget ' Shandon Bells,' although they're 
 hung in a Protestant steeple. Here's the way 
 it goes " 
 
 " Arrah, sure that's 'Sheela na guira ' you're 
 trying to whistle, you ummadhawn ! Micky, 
 allannah, I can't easily forget them bells ; I 
 never can ! I remember once, long ago, when 
 I was singing a litany, the ould bells were 
 chiming away, and every now and then I 
 thought they sent back a longing response to 
 our ancient service ; and when I'd sing, ' Sanc- 
 ta Maria,' down came the rushing sound in re 
 ply, like a saintly voice from paradise ' Ora 
 pro nobis.' Ah Micky ! I often liked to hear them 
 of a fine summer's evening ; their sweet vibra 
 tions used to return to me like the hum of my 
 poor mother's soft song, when she was putting 
 me to sleep long ago. God be merciful to 
 her ! Amen. Requiescat in pace !" And Fath 
 er Tom, almost in tears, devoutly made the 
 sign of the cross on his forehead. 
 
 " Well," continued Father Tom, wiping his 
 lips with his hand, and laying down the 
 empty tumbler, " there's a smack of the rale 
 bogwater about that, anyhow. Isn't that from 
 Tom Wise ? Faith, his distillery is only one 
 of the few factories we have left to remind 
 these foreigners of what we once were. They 
 may talk of their fabrics, and of their cattle 
 shows, and of their great exhibitions; but 
 they can't bate that, divil a bit. The dirty 
 Thames is as polluted as British royalty ; they 
 haven't the clear waters of the Lee to draw 
 from." He said this as he was diligently 
 mixing his seventh tumbler, and he gave a 
 very meaning sigh, as he stirred the spoon in 
 the smoking contents. " Micky, what are you 
 doing ? Don't be afeard of that ; there's not 
 a headache in a whole puncheon of it." 
 
 " Come, Father Tom, don't forget the song ; 
 just one verse, to begin with." 
 
 " Arrah, Mick, I can't forget the bells, but 
 'pon my sowl I forget the song ; more shame 
 on me f Let me see, it goes this way 
 
 ' With deep affection, and sweet recollection, 
 
 I often think of those Shandon bells, 
 Whose song so wild would, In the days of childhood, 
 
 Fling round my cradle their magic spells. 
 Oh this I, I' 
 
 Och, divil take it. asking Father Prout's par 
 don, 1 can't make it out. I'm afeard I'll soon 
 forget my pater noster, and every thing else 
 that's good, if I stay in this benighted coun 
 try. But stop, I'll make a verse for you." 
 He hummed for a moment or two, and theu 
 began, 
 
 "For Cork's own city, so fair and witty, 
 I'll sing this ditty, though fur away ; 
 And still remember, to life's chill December, 
 My native town that's across the say.
 
 4 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 My heart is swelling for Sundays-Well, In 
 That beauteous quarter where you could see 
 
 The bells of Shandon, that sound so grand on 
 The pleasant waters of the river Lee." 
 
 "Bravo, bravo! well done! illigant ! 
 sublime !" and then sundry heavy thumps 
 made the glasses dance on the table. " Put 
 that in print, Father Tom, and faith, your 
 fortune is made." 
 
 This was not a labored impromptu with the 
 priest. His voice was soft and musical ; he 
 sung glowly and with great feeling, and the 
 words followed each other in an easy order of 
 versification, adapted to the popular air. 
 
 " I'm no poet ; however, I'm glad you're 
 pleased. But, Dinny avick, if I was a jaynu- 
 ine poet, I might make some verses that his 
 holiness the pope might clap in the Index 
 Prohibitorius." 
 
 "Sure. Father Tom, you wouldn't mount 
 your Pegasus and canter away from the 
 church ? You wouldn't write any thing, no 
 matter how inspired, that you'd be afraid to 
 let your bishop see Y" 
 
 " See ? God help the see tliat he blinks at ! 
 Thigum, he can't see a hole through a ladder 
 sometimes. I know it, and Micky, ould Wise 
 man's an afs ; he ia, by Gor !" 
 
 " Tom, Father Tom, aisy, aisy, aisy I" 
 
 " He's an ass I say, and the prince of asses," 
 and Father Tom repeated a verse of the song 
 generally sung at Beauvais, France, during 
 the Romish festival, in praise of the ass, on the 
 14th of J anuary. 
 
 " Bcce magnis anribus ! Subjugalis filius ; 
 Aainus egregins. Asinorum dominus !"* 
 
 " See here ; the whole of you are afraid of 
 that ould thief, but I'm not, divil a bit. He's 
 a half-Spaniard. What did they send him 
 here for? to be one of our cardinal points? 
 Bure, he wouldn't let me take a quiet smoke 
 the other night, he didn't want the smell of 
 tobacco ; yet he carries a gold snuff-box to 
 stuff his own ould beak. I tould him in 
 double quick time that I'd lave the palace and 
 go to more humble quarters, somewhere else, 
 and so I did, there now. If they had him in 
 Ireland, they'd choke him." 
 
 It was useless now to make any attempt to 
 control Father Tom. By this time, he had 
 swallowed the twelfth tumbler; and if the 
 Pope himself were to enter the room, he 
 would face him w'ith a pipe in his mouth and 
 arms akimbo. 
 
 Father Tom, after a moment's oblivion, now 
 gave a disdainful side-look around the table; 
 he appeared to rise wonderfully in his own es 
 timation ; every doubt had almost vanished, 
 and, champion-like, he felt itching for a brush 
 with an opponent. Looking from under a 
 frown at Ids friends, he began : 
 
 " You're a Iflt of interlopers ! What do you 
 benighted heretics know K" And he imagin 
 ed for the moment that he was engaged in a 
 regular set-to with some stiff Protestant, some 
 sanctified aouper of the Establishment. 
 
 I'm a priest. I'm none of your wolves in 
 
 * See that broad, majestic ear, 
 Born he is the poke to wear ; 
 All his fellows he surpasses, 
 He's the very lord of asses I 
 
 sheep's clothing. I'm a priest of the rale ould 
 church founded by Peter .D'ye want proof? 
 Upon this rock I will build my church, and I 
 will give to thee the keys.' Yes, the keys, ana 
 divil a in you'll ever get unless we open thn 
 door. Put that in your pipe, and smoke it. 
 What do the Scriptures say ? ' Many shall 
 come in my name.' Yes, a lot of thieving, 
 blind guides, with their tests, and their tracts, 
 rummaging up and down the country, beg 
 ging, and praying, and feasting, and gorman 
 dizing. Arrah, the divil sweep them, but it's 
 a nice time of day with us whin we've got to 
 stand aside and make way for your snub-nosed 
 Busters, and Bakers, and" Buntings ! Wasn't 
 that a nice sample they gave at the Bible 
 meeting of their Christianity ? Begor! the 
 public papers say that they went at it on the 
 very platform, before the whole crowd of 
 psalm-singers in ould Howe's conventicle, and 
 sure they tumbled one fellow clear over, and 
 knocked out Campbell's eye ; pity they spoil 
 ed his squint ! Och ! God be with the place 
 where, if they commenced such a row, we 
 could aisily get a dozen or so of the boys to 
 step in among them with a few blackthorns 
 to leather free grace into them. Wouldn't 
 there be ructions? Musha, blessed be the ould 
 sod ; after all the tithes, and extortion, and 
 oppression of the gambling interlopers of par 
 sons, they can't make much headway there. 
 They may think that they soften some of the 
 hungry craythers, once in awhile, whin they 
 come with a bowl of soup in one hand and 
 their dirty rag of a Bible in the other. The 
 bowl is sure enough emptied, and the book, 
 'printed by His Majesty's special command,' 
 is just as certain to be left at some huckster's 
 stand on the Coal Quay, while Paddy has got 
 more than the value of it in his pocket in the 
 shape of tuppence' worth of tobacco. 
 
 " Then, Lord save us ! at one of their next 
 big missionary meetings, or may be at their 
 great Exeter Hall, how they'll turn up their 
 eyes, while some dandy parson, or thieving 
 ould ranter delights a moping crowd with 
 lying accounts of the wholesale conversion of 
 deluded Papists. Divil a bit but 'tis hard to 
 have patience with such a gang. Well, faith, 
 there's a few texts in store for them. ' Ye 
 serpents, ye generation of vipers, how can 
 ye escape the damnation of hell ?' ' And 
 through covetousness shall they with feigned 
 words make merchandise of you, whose judg 
 ment now of a long time lingereth not, and 
 their damnation slumbereth not.' ' Let them 
 alone : they be blind leaders of the blind. 
 And if the blind lead the blind, both shall fall 
 into the ditch.' ' Woe unto you, Scribes and 
 Pharisees, hypocrites 1 for ye compass sea and 
 land to make one proselyte ; and when he is 
 made, ye make him twofold more the child 
 of hell than yourselves.' Faith, there would 
 be more truth in that if it had been written 
 ' fen-fold ;' but sure that's enough for them, 
 even out of their own book. We are tould to 
 ' let them alone,' and that their ' damnation 
 slumbereth not.' So you see, there's comfort 
 in store for them anyhow. D'ye hear that, 
 my friend?" said he, giving a self-sufficient 
 wink at Father Mick. " ' Aures habent ct non 
 audient.' They have ears to hear, but they
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 will not hear. Bo gor ! it's a wonder they 
 ion't, for sure they're long enough." 
 
 Father Tom here drew another sigh, and 
 began to compound another restorative ; then 
 in a minute or so he said, reflectively, " Yea, 
 I'm a priest of the Holy Roman Catholic and 
 Apostolic Church, and I think the divil a fear 
 of me if I stay where I am ; and now I defy 
 any of you to say that its not the rale true 
 ould Mother Church. What d'ye say to 
 that ?" said he, looking . defiantly at Father 
 Dinny Lynch, whom he now took for an oppo 
 nent. 
 
 " Well," replied Father Dinny, assuming a 
 controversial attitude, " I admit what you 
 say, I don't deny but that yours is the rale 
 mother church, for you know the faithful of 
 Rome always pay more regard to the mother 
 than they do to the son " 
 
 This answer rather staggered Father Tom ; 
 but after a sliort pause, he quietly closed his 
 left eye and kept the other on his man, as 
 much as to say, " Poor fool, I pity you." Then 
 quickly changing the point at issue, he said, 
 " D'ye mane to deny the ride presence ? d'ye 
 mane to deny that blessed mystery of our 
 church that has puzzled the whole of you for 
 over a thousand years? You won't say a word 
 to that ; that's the belief that bothers your rai- 
 son and philosophy ; that's our prime mys 
 tery. You'll niver get transubstantiation 
 through your thick skulls, divil a bit, allan- 
 nah ! What have you got to say against our 
 confessional ? Doesn't the Scriptures say, 
 ' Confess your sins one to another ' ? D'ye 
 mane to turn up your noses at purgatory? 
 Faith, <tvick, I'm af'eard you're in a fair way 
 of going a little further down. Pshaw ! What 
 do you know about indulgences, or penance, 
 or prayer to the blessed saints ? Nothing. 
 Nabocldish, you'll be glad to have the Hill of 
 Howth tumble over and hide ye, some of 
 these fine days. Where d'ye get your author 
 ity, let me ask you ? You talk of your ' apos 
 tolical succession ' a set of fox-hunting, card- 
 playing, tithe-grabbing, vagabond parsons ! 
 Succession indeed! Bad luck to the success 
 you'll ever have. Lord help us! If St. Peter 
 was to take a trip back again, and see such a 
 batch of greedy wolves and hounds claiming 
 to be his successors, wouldn't he roar? 
 Wouldn't he burst his sides ? wouldn't he 
 split right open ? Faith, he'd laugh at the idea 
 until he'd shake himself into his very grave. 
 Where d'ye get your authority? Tell me 
 that." 
 
 " Out of the Bible, to be sure," said Father 
 Dinny. 
 
 " Oh ! of coorse, out of the Bible, the Bible 
 is your Pan lora's box. Sure, you'll get au 
 thority in the Bible for any tin >g. Every 
 one of your forty or fifty different sects can 
 quote authority out of that for their capers, 
 until their contention gets as wild as a hurroo 
 at Donnybrook. Out of the Bible the Baptist 
 proves immersion, and another proves sprink 
 ling. The Methodist proves 'free grace,' and 
 the Presbyterian ' election and reprobation ;' 
 one to pray without ceasing, and another to 
 wait till the Spirit moves. In the Bible you 
 can get authority for love and for hatred ; for 
 peace and for war ; for hope and dos t air ; for 
 
 blessing and fir cursing ; for revenge and for 
 giveness ; for faith and for works ; for liberty 
 and slavery, and for almost every thing else ; 
 and sure the divil himself on a pinch could 
 find an odd text or two for his own justifica 
 tion. Don't talk of the Bible and its authori 
 ty ; you're distracted yourselves about its rale 
 maning ; you're all pulling, and dragging, 
 and hauling each other, scarcely any two of 
 ye thinking alike. Expunge, according to 
 order, and what would ye have left ? Divil a 
 bit. Sure Luther, that bastely apostate, began 
 at the end of your Bible and wanted to sweep 
 away the book of Revelation altogether be 
 cause it foretold of his own downfall. Not a 
 man (if ye is certain as to what your Bible is ; 
 the blessed books which we accept as canoni 
 cal, you timidly reject as apocryphal. Your 
 own commentators say that certain chapters 
 are doubtful, or even spurious; others, that 
 whole books have been lost ; one, that certain 
 texts are interpolations, and another, that 
 there are various wrong translations. You 
 talk of your four Gospels ! What do ye do 
 with the other fifty or sixty which for all ye 
 know have just as good a right to be includ 
 ed ? Why, it is admitted that- about one hun 
 dred and fifty thousand different readings of 
 ancient manuscripts of the New Testament 
 have been discovered, and yet none of youi 
 present writings are older than the sixth cen 
 tury ? Now with these trifling facts staring 
 ye in the face, can ye trust your Bible youi 
 paper idol ? How do ye know you're right ?" 
 
 " Well, and how do you know ?" said Fath 
 er Dinny. 
 
 " How do we know, d'ye say ? Faith, we 
 know that according to our feeble reason it is 
 impossible to regulate these matters, or to 
 reconcile our Bible contradictions, or to tell 
 what is what ; but we take the interpretation 
 of our church without a murmur; we submit 
 to its authority. We know we're right be 
 cause the church is founded on a rock, and can 
 not err ; and then we have our blessed tradi 
 tions to make us more secure. We had them 
 before there was a chapter of your New Tes 
 tament put in writ ng. There's no danger of 
 us ; and if you don't retrace your steps, and 
 stop your wandering, and hurry back to the 
 ould faith, begorra, in coorse of time you'll 
 find yourself in a warm corner where you can 
 roast a herring across the pwlm of your hand, 
 or light your pipe with the top of your finger. 
 Hurry back, allannah, hurry back !" 
 
 Father Tom continued in this strain for 
 some time longer ; he had got rid of every 
 doubt, and was once more fully persuaded 
 that the Roman Church was the pillar and 
 ground of truth. Between the spirits in hia 
 glass and its effects upon his imagination, he 
 became at last violent in his declamation, and 
 as unruly in his theology as St. Dominic hi in- 
 self. It was late that night before his proof 
 texts were duly arrayed and his denunciationi 
 expended, and he would not consent to retire 
 until all had made due submission. 
 
 No person who attended morning mass the 
 next day at Moorfield's Chapel would for a 
 moment imagine that the demure priest who 
 officiated, and who bent and bowed with such 
 graceful solemnity before the lighted altar,
 
 44 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 was die advocate for thirty tumblers, or the 
 doubting controversialist Father Tom Mc- 
 tilinn. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 HAMPSTEAD Cottage never looked more 
 home-like and cheerful than it did on the 
 bright April afternoon that Mr. Capel and 
 Mrs. Baker drove up to the garden-gate of 
 that pleasant dwelling. Although he had 
 consented to make this house his temporary 
 alxxle, yet he never had the curiosity to in 
 quire whether it was a modern red brick 
 building, l>olt up to the street side, or a mas 
 sive stone structure in the same position, with 
 thick walls very little windows, and great 
 dreary looking gables, having acute angles of 
 the olden time ; he never gave it a thought. 
 He was but a wayfaring man, content to 
 sojourn a few months in one place, and may 
 be a year or more in another ; and when he 
 had formed, an agreeable intimacy with a few 
 persons, he was sent away to some distant 
 circuit, never perhaps to meet them again. It 
 was from this that a feeling of indifference 
 had been engendered as to where he should 
 reside ; but when he saw the neat cottage 
 surrounded by fine trees, and the trim garden, 
 and the young buds, and the clear sun-lit sky, 
 and heard the songs of a thousand birds, many 
 of which seemed to flit with delight through 
 the fragrant air, the scene was most agreeable, 
 and one that his fancy would have readily 
 created as a picture of home. 
 
 But if he never thought of the house, he had 
 often thought of its proprietor. Mrs. Manners 
 had already evinced her kind disposition 
 towards him, was in fact like a mother. She 
 was also a sister in the church, and he well 
 knew that he had her sympathies and her 
 payers ; her husband, however, the master of 
 Heath Cottage, was an entire stranger to him 
 personally, and not only that, but according 
 to report, an utter stranger to the truth of 
 God, and even.it was said, an avowed enemy 
 to the Christian faith. How could he meet 
 this man, akd be content to remain as Ms 
 guest as one of his family ? V\ ould he not, 
 by accepting this offer of hospitality, be often, 
 perhaps, obliged to submit and listen to un 
 pleasant insinuations against religion, or to 
 the open blasphemous attacks of an unbeliever? 
 One who is firmly satisfied of the truth of the 
 Bible is actually shocked at the bare idea of 
 infidelity, and therefore presumes that a per 
 son who can persistently reject inspiration 
 must be willfully perverse, and should be avoid 
 ed as far as possible. He is presumed to be a 
 gloomy, dissatisfied cynic, devoid of tender 
 sympathies, and of the kindlier feelings of 
 our nature ; a man whose word is but a 
 snare, and whose honor but a lie, whose 
 passions are under no proper control^ leaving 
 him sordid, heartless, and brutal. There was 
 no denying the fact that the idea which he had 
 formed concerning Mr. Manners was not very 
 flattering ; he had been represented to him by 
 Mr. Baker ns a very dangerous person, whose 
 principles and character could not meet the ap 
 proval of either God or man. 
 
 Thus it is that too often an unwarrantablo 
 prepossession may raise a barrier beu\ een us 
 and an estimable person, who, if better 
 known, might exhibit genial and intellectual 
 qualities of a high order, and with whom 
 intercourse and intimacy might be a source 
 of the greatest enjoyment, by engendering a 
 friendship which would make life more happy , 
 and even, after a final separation, leave a ray 
 of light forever on the memory. 
 
 No wonder, then, that Mr. Capel was anxious 
 to see the individual under whose roof he was 
 for a time to find a home, at whose table ho 
 was to sit, and whose mind he was to try and 
 impress with Gospel truth. Judging, how 
 ever, from the surroundings of his habitation, 
 the young preacher fancied that his liOft must 
 be a lover of rural beauty. Every thing 
 seemed to indicate the possession < f the most 
 exquisite taste and love of order. If such na 
 tural attractions gave a bent to his mind, it 
 could not be in a very wrong direction ; and 
 it might be, after all, that the infamy which 
 some were ready to attach to his name was 
 but the result of an unfair prejudice which 
 our present social enlightenment has not yet 
 repudiated. Detraction could surely be no aid 
 to religion. He would now, however, be soon 
 able to judge for himself, and he would try to 
 do so impartially. 
 
 Such were Mr. Capel's reflections while he 
 looked from the vehicle at the gate-side into 
 the pleasant garden. Neither he nor Mrs. 
 Baker had yet been observed from the house 
 and, as if by a tacit agreement, they sat still 
 to listen to the warbling of birds from a num 
 ber of cages by the hall door ; they could see 
 the young vines creeping throuyh the trellis- 
 work, and sunshine and shadow commingling 
 around the ivied windows and meeting on the 
 flower-stands ; and then they heard the mel 
 low sound of harmony from a piano and voices 
 in the parlor. Mr. Manners and his daughter 
 were practicing a favorite duet, and as the full 
 swell or diminuendo reached the ear, Mr. Ca 
 pel, who had a cultivated taste for music, al 
 most fancied himself at one of the pearly gates 
 of heaven instead of being near the entrance 
 to the residence of a doomed unbeliever. He 
 still listened ; and while this pleasing fancy 
 lingered, the door opened, and out rushed 
 Mary from the house, as bright an angel of 
 the earth as ever met his eyes. Mrs. Manners 
 followed, and then came Mr. Manners him 
 self; while Hannah, from one of the dormer 
 windows, shouted out the arrival of Mrs. Baker 
 Mrs. Mannors was the first to reach the gate, 
 and she impulsively reached up both hands to 
 Mr. C'apel in a hearty shake ; she almost 
 neglected Mrs. Baker, in her eagerness to 
 bestow her welcome upon the young preacher. 
 Mr. Mannors waited for no introduction, but 
 greeted him in the kindest manner, and Mr. 
 Cupel was actually surprised at the warmth of 
 his reception. Mary Mannors, now blushing, 
 hesitated to approach, and with becoming dif 
 fidence stood at a short distance holding her 
 brother's hand, and waiting to be made 
 acquainted with their visitor. 
 
 The young preacher's eyes wandered from 
 Mary Manners to her brother, then to Mrs. 
 Mannors, and then to the courteous gentle-
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 man who had so kindly welcomed him, and 
 who was now, without waiting for assistance, 
 busily eagag :d removing' the small trii'ik he 
 had brought from Mr Baker's. Mr. Capel 
 was most agreeably surprised, and fora fev 
 moments watched Mr. Mannors intently. Is 
 this, thought lie, the person against whom I 
 was warned ? Is this the man whose dark 
 countenance and vulpine aspect betrayed the 
 unholy emotions which governed his mind? 
 Is this he whom Mr. Baker h-AS so long 
 despised, and against whom he hits hurled so 
 many denunciatory texts? Surely it can not 
 bo ! tie found it impossible to believe that 
 the gentleman with mild, cbserful fa<-e, who 
 ha 1 just assisted Mrs. Baker to alight, who 
 was now leading her to tho b.ouse, and whose 
 smile seemed so attractive to tliftt fair girl 
 and her delicate brother, WP,S the Martin Man 
 nors of his imagination --the gloomy skeptic, 
 themonst.oi* of unbelief, the denounced infidel, 
 who made his pious wife so miserable, and who 
 wantonly treated divine revelation with so 
 much contempt. Was this the man whom he 
 had to try to warn, reprove, and reform ? 
 Well, considered Mr. Capel, it' this is to be 
 my mission here, I havy a Lnnier task before 
 me than I imagined. Tliore is nothing vi 
 cious lurking in his heart, there is nothing 
 dark or designing in that, generous counte 
 nance which throws such a halo of happiness 
 all around. If the he-art of man is by nature 
 'deceitful above all firing's, and desperately 
 wicked/' were it not that it would involve the 
 palpable contradiction of Holy Writ, I should 
 say that Martin M armors was an exception 
 to the general rule, and as guileless as a 
 child. 
 
 Had Mr. Capel entertained any doubt as to 
 the friendliness of his reception at Heath 
 Cottage, that doubt was now effectually dis 
 pelled by tae genuine kindness already shown 
 him, and by the great satisfaction manifested 
 by all uport his arrival. In fact, had he been 
 some poor prodigal who had long wandered 
 away from his father's house, and had now 
 r -turned, remorseful and repentant, he could 
 not have found a truer welcome. Mrs. Man 
 nors was fairly in ecstasies, she almost wept 
 with joy ; and never, since the death of his 
 mother, had Mr. Capel met with any person 
 who appeared to take such an interest in his 
 welfare. 
 
 His kind hostess was indeed joyfully ex 
 cited : accompanied by Mrs. Baker, she led 
 him around the place. He was shown the 
 gar len, an 1 the birds, and the curiosities in 
 tho hall ; he was taken to different rooms, an 1 
 then she led him to the comfortable apart 
 ment placed at his disposal, where, to his sur 
 prise, he found a number of theological works 
 side by side, for his edification. There stood 
 Baxter, Doddridge, Pascal, Paley, Wesley, 
 anil many others, besides memoirs and com 
 mentaries sufficient to afford him ample range 
 for study ; and he was still more surprised to 
 learn that these works had been carefully 
 read by Mr. Mannors himself. Upon owning 
 several of them, he discovered numerous mar 
 ginal notes in his writing, illustrative of 
 olose reading, and of the great interest taken 
 in the contents by the reasoning skeptic. 
 
 After having tried to interest him with other 
 matters, Mrs. Mauuors did not forget to re 
 mind him of the task she wished him to un 
 dertake respecting her husband. She said 
 she had no doubt whatever of /iis success, for 
 her prayers in his behalf had been constant ; 
 and even her dreams led her to believe that 
 (iod was waiting to be gracious, and would 
 not be forgetful of his promise. 
 
 Were it asserted that Mr. Mannors was in a 
 happier mood than usual that evening, it 
 miglit not be strictly correct. He was 
 peculiarly blessed with a very agreeable dis 
 position ; scarcely any thing seemed to affect 
 his equanimity. Persons who had known 
 him intimately for years seldom discovered 
 any difference in his manner. He was always 
 happy, always indifferent to the bauble hon 
 ors which so much engrossed the pious as 
 well as the profane ; and those who felt 
 gloomy or depressed before they had spoken 
 to him of their troubles generally went away 
 more hopeful. Whether Mr. Mannors had 
 discovered something in the unassuming 
 modest demeanor of Mr. Capel , or whether it 
 was the superior glow of intelligence in the 
 face of the young man that excited an unusu 
 al interest, it could not be denied but that the 
 master of Heath Cottage was particularly 
 happy that evening. He had found a new 
 friend ; and without waiting to ascertain what 
 his peculiar views might be on this or that 
 subject, he felt intuitively that the young 
 preacher was a person of superior mind, and 
 who, from the tenor of his remarks, was pos- 
 sess.-d of a liberality not permitted by strict 
 theological training ; he, no doubt, anticipated 
 much pleasure in his society, especially as he 
 was now for a time to be an inmate of Heath 
 Cottage, and, as it were, a member of the 
 family ; but he had not the least, idea that 
 Mr. Capel's visit was so contrived by Mrs. 
 Mannors as to make it a special mission for 
 the benefit of himself, her erring husband. 
 
 For a young man, Mr. Capel was gifted 
 with great power of discrimination ; not 
 judging Mr. Mannors, therefore, by his favor 
 able appearance, but from the acute observa 
 tions made by him on many subjects, he wa 
 astonished at his great intelligence, and at 
 the vast powers of his mind. Though but a 
 very short time in his society, he was inclined 
 to think that he had never met his equal. No 
 matter what any person m ght assert con- 
 corning the peculiar religious views of such a 
 man, a mind like his was too fearless and 
 comprehensive to reject any proposition with 
 out its due share of consideration. He al ready 
 felt that with Mr. Mannors there would be no 
 necessity of going round and round in or i^r 
 to ask a fair question and demand a fair 
 answer ; he found in him one who was quite 
 willing that you should know his opinion on 
 any proper subject, and ever ready to givo 
 the reasons which led him to a conclusion ; 
 that he was a person as willing to learn as to 
 teach, and one before whom you might lay 
 your opinions, in full confidence that he would 
 deal justly, and give a true verdict according 
 to the evidence. 
 
 The mission, therefore, whioli Mr. Capel had 
 timidly undertaken was no longer dreaded ;
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 it was now to be a source of pleasure instead 
 of a reluctant effort ; and the repugnance 
 which he might have once felt in complying 
 with the mutual desire of Mrs. Mannors and 
 Mrs. Baker continued no longer. 
 
 The two persons who but a few hours be 
 fore were utter strangers to each other were 
 now seen arm in arm walking around the 
 garden, and engaged in agreeable conversa 
 tion. It was evident that an acquaintance 
 had been already formed which would, in all 
 probability, continue for a long time. It was 
 pleasant to see them thus together as they 
 wandered through the winding walks, or 
 standing in friendly debate in the shadow of 
 eome huge evergreen. Both were lovers of 
 nature, and occasionally paused to see the 
 evening sunlight rush down in bright streams 
 through the moss-covered branches of venera 
 ble trees, and to hear the soft whispering of 
 young leaves. It was cheerful to see this, 
 and to hear the hearty, joyous laugh of Mr. 
 Mannors as he related some anecdote which 
 almost convulsed his friend with laughter, 
 bringing tears to his eyes. 
 
 Mrs. Mannors was very much interested. 
 She watched the progressive intercourse 
 which was now gradually begetting that con 
 fidence most desirable between the young 
 preacher and her husband. She hurriedly 
 left Mrs. Baker, in order to have a talk with 
 Hannah upon the subject. After a time, she 
 went up to her room, and looked down into 
 the garden, to observe the two persons in 
 whom, for the moment, she felt most inte 
 rest. She was very much gratified ; her 
 fondest dreams would be surely realized. 
 There they were, husband and preacher, the un 
 believer and the expounder of truth, in cheer 
 ful conversation on subjects of mutual interest ; 
 there they stood, like two old friends that 
 had met once again, or more properly, like the 
 meeting of a fond father and dutiful son, who 
 had been long parted. What but good could 
 she expect from such a beginning? How dif 
 ferent was the manner and bearing of the 
 young preacher compared with that of his 
 superintendent. Whenever Mr. Baker ven 
 tured to call on her, and that was as seldom 
 as possible, though treated with the great 
 est courtesy by her husband, his words to him 
 were few and commonplace ; and during a short 
 stay, he was reserved and moody while in 
 his presence. No wonder that she felt pleased ; 
 and now, as she stood at the dormer window, 
 with the light of the pure, bright evening 
 sky around her, burnishing the gilt picture- 
 f ramu, and flashing on the mirrors of her room, 
 and thus mingling with the radiant smile 
 upon her face, she looked like a happy wife, 
 and the mistress of a happy household. 
 
 Every one in Heath Cottage that afternoon 
 was pleased at the arrival of Mr Capel. Ro 
 bert, the trusty man of all work, was quite 
 satisfied. He fully expected to see some dark- 
 visaged, morose person drive up, and cast a 
 shadow about the place, dark as a thunder 
 cloud. " But, Lor, bless you !" said he, as he 
 was rubbing down Mr. Capel's horse, which 
 was, for the time, to be an additional charge, 
 " Lor bless you'Master William, no one would 
 take him to be one of these Methodees. Least 
 
 ways, I wouldn't Why, he bean't no more 
 like one than I am ; that is to say, if he hadn't 
 that ere white choker on him 1 hope as 
 mistress won't be disappointed. He don't 
 look like a moping chap, that's always a pray 
 ing and looking miserable. You'd think that 
 them ere coves what brings us the tracts on 
 Sunday morning, were under sentence of 
 death, and had nothing to do hut go straight 
 to old Bailey, and get tipped off. He's not like 
 them ; he'd do better for one of these big par 
 son chaps, only he's a great bit too civil." 
 
 ' I like him very much, indeed I do," said 
 William ; " and so does ma and pa ; and Mary 
 says he has got sucfli a nice face and curly 
 hair. Oh ! yes, we all like him Hannah and 
 all, and Mary, too." 
 
 " Does she ? Well, that's a go !" said Ro 
 bert, giving a curious wink at the wall, and 
 stroking his whiskers during a little pause. 
 " Oh ! yes, may be Miss Mary will like him a 
 bit, as well as yourself; quite natr'l like." 
 
 " She dogs," replied William, in all simplici 
 ty ; " she says that she's very glad he came, 
 and we expect to have some pleasant walks 
 together. You know, Robert, the summer 
 time is coming, and we shall have plenty of 
 nice evenings and mornings, and, you knoAv, 
 if I am poorly, she will have some one to go 
 out with her ; that is. if pa is away." 
 
 " Yes, so I'm thinking," said Robert ; " but 
 may be mistress may keep him a praying all 
 t>ieday, leastways, when he's here. You know 
 those Methodees have to be a praying or 
 preaching more than half the time, and the 
 other half they're begging. But I think he 
 won't do much that way. Your pa will keep 
 him busy. Yes. I think he'll have some sport 
 with him ;'' and Robert, who was not strictly 
 orthodox, kept brushing and rubbing away at 
 the preacher's horse, which found himself in 
 good quarters 
 
 Hannah and Mrs. Baker had been in con 
 versation together for some time before. Mrs. 
 Mannors again joined them, and when the 
 latter made her appearance, she looked de 
 lighted, and began to tell how her husband 
 and the young preacher had become such 
 friends, and how she thought that, instead of 
 having to travel away alone any more to hear 
 the " Word," they might before long witness 
 a great change. It would be something won 
 derful to see Mr. Mannors a regular atten 
 dant, and may be a member of a class, or even 
 a classleader. Would it not be a great 
 thing to see him start away early every Sun 
 day morning to distribute tracts among the 
 ungodly, instead of remaining at home as he 
 now did. reading newspapers, and maga/.ines, 
 and dreadful books against religion, or talk 
 ing about politics, or reform, to people of his 
 own sort, who called to sen him ? No, it would 
 not be too much to expect to see him occupy 
 a place on the missionary platform, either in 
 their own church, or, on greater occasions, at 
 Exeter Hall. " I feel certain," said Mrs. 
 Mannors, " from what I witnessed th other 
 morning, that Mr. Capel will be able to in 
 fluence all within this house ; and may God 
 grant it." 
 
 " Well, ma'am," said Hannah, " I never saw 
 a person I could be more pleased with thaa
 
 EXETER HALL, 
 
 our young preacher ; it ia, you know, only a 
 short time since I first laid eyes on him ; he 
 is the one we need. He is the evangelist that 
 is to lead poor Christian to the city gates. I 
 believe he will yet work a miracle in this 
 house. I feel like poor Hopeful in the ' Pil 
 grim's Progress,' when Christian was ready to 
 sink in deep waters. I can now say, ' Be of 
 good cheer, sister, I feel the bottom, and it is 
 good.' Let Mr. Capel have his own way 
 awhile, and all will i e right.'' 
 
 " Goodness knows, I'm sure I hope you have 
 got to the bottom of your trouble, any way," 
 responded Mrs. Baker. ' What a blessed 
 thincr it is to be able to trust in the Lord ; 
 when all fails, one can rely on him. Have 
 faith, and every thing else will follow. Oh ! 
 what answers I have had to the prayer of 
 faith. I remember once, when I lived with my 
 brother, that it rained for nearly three weeks 
 in harvest time, and his sheafs of wheat were 
 almost rotting in the field. I went to my 
 room and pretended to be sick, and fasted a 
 whole afternoon, and oh ! how I prayed to the 
 Lord f or dry weather. Well, my dear, I slept 
 that night in full faith, and in the morning 
 when I awoke, bless the Lord ! there was the 
 sun shining right in on the bed-clothes. There 
 was the answer to my prayer. When I got 
 up, I was all praise ; I read the one hundred 
 and third Psalm, and, bless the Lord ! ate a 
 most hearty breakfast. It was afterward dry 
 tor a full week." 
 
 "Well then again, dear, but you know I 
 wouldn't tell this to any one else, I was a kind 
 of dependent on my brother, and I was anx 
 ious to get settled in life. I wanted to get 
 married, and day and night, and night and 
 day, I prayed to the Lord without ceasing. 
 Bless you, how I did pray ! I prayed for a 
 good husband. Well, I went at once and 
 joined the church, attended class, distributed 
 tracts, attended Sunday-school, made good 
 collections, and went to every tea-meeting in 
 the circuit ; and as soon as I laid my eyes on 
 James, and found that he wanted a good wife, 
 I worked and prayed harder and harder, and, 
 again, bless the Lord ! he answered my 
 prayer, and we were married. Now I give 
 you these as undoubted proofs of what prayer 
 and faith can do ;" and then, giving Hannah 
 a sly wink and a little punch on the ribs, she 
 leant over and said to her in a half whisper, 
 " Go thou and do likewise. " " Yes, my 
 dear," continued Mrs. Baker, " I hope your 
 trouble is nearly over. The Lord can work 
 wonders through the lips of his chosen ser 
 vants ; but we must not forget prayer. 
 ' Prayer moves the hand that moves the 
 world.' " And this pious hand-maid concluded 
 by repeating an appropriate verse from one of 
 Wesley's hymns. 
 
 While these friends were trying to assure 
 each other, Mr. Capel entered the parlor to 
 hear a duet. Miss Mannors had just taken 
 her seat at the piano, and, at that moment, one 
 of the latest sunbeams of that beautiful even 
 ing shot in slantwise through the shining 
 window, and rested on her golden brown hair 
 and on its waving curls like a nimbus around 
 the head of an angel. Mary never looked 
 
 more radiant. There she sat. the folds of her 
 white dress falling around her in graceful 
 lines, and developing a form perfect, at least 
 in the eyes of the young preacher, who now 
 stood nervously by her side prepared to turn 
 over the pages of music. 
 
 During the performance of the piece, Mr. 
 Capel would have liked to mingle his voice 
 with the sweet strains which now met 
 his ear and charmed him away once more 
 to his old home and to other endearing 
 scenes, but, he must remember, was he 
 not a preacher? were not all such recrea 
 tions allurements which might draw him 
 aside from the path of duty, as they had 
 drawn others ? No ; these tilings must be 
 avoided, must be even despised for the Cross. 
 Alas ! was it not a heavy cross to carry, to be 
 obliged to reject and cond-mn what he could 
 not help feeling was intellectual and human 
 izing? Was it not a heavy cros^ for one of 
 excellent taste, to be content with the many 
 dry, dreary, droning, and naked intonations 
 embodied in church music, and to seldom rise 
 above " Cambridge," " Devises" the " Old 
 Hundredth," or above solemn or mournful an 
 thems, sometimes sung, but seldom well per 
 formed ? But, on the other hand, if he ever 
 willingly gave way to the seductive power of 
 secular music, it might be only the first step 
 downward in a course of spiritual ruin. 
 
 For the time, there was a rebellion between 
 nature and grace. Could it be sinful to in 
 dulge in harmony that was so elevating, so 
 pure? Were not the angels in heaven thus 
 engaged, and was it not one of the enjoyments 
 of the blest in their home of eternal rest ? 
 Would it be wrong for him to mingle his 
 voice with the soft sweet music made by that 
 innocent girl ? It could not be ; and as he 
 stood, listless as a statue, he never felt a re 
 straint more galling than that which now 
 prevented him from joining in such a delight 
 ful exercise. 
 
 Song after song was sung by Mr. Mannors 
 and his daughter, and the poetry and musical 
 composition were most suitable for the time 
 and place. The s mlight, had faded away, but 
 so gradually that the mellow moonbeam was 
 now its mild substitute. And the oblong patch 
 of silvery light that was then seen on the car 
 pet beneath the window was an agreeable 
 evidence of the quiet transition. 
 
 " Well," said Mr. Mannors, dur'ng a pause 
 after the piece was concluded, " I do not know 
 how it may be with others, but music has the 
 happiest effect on me ; to be a day without it 
 would be a deprivation I should feel very 
 much. Morning and evening, for years, I 
 have had music as regularly as other people 
 have had prayer. Indeed, what they say 
 prayer is to the devotee, music is to me ; it ia 
 my religion, it is my prayer ; for the heart 
 may want words that music alone can supply ; 
 and when I worship nature, I worship her in 
 music. Then, under its inspiration, I have 
 often soared away in fancy. I often wish that 
 I could leave the world and its discord forever, 
 provided I could find some poet's happier 
 sphere, and if I only had those I love to ac 
 company me. Isn't that the way, Pop ?" and
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 he laid his hand upon the head of his fair 
 daughter, and then looked into her blue eyes 
 as if to read her thoughts. 
 
 " Indeed, pa, I have no doubt as to your 
 mode of worship, and I think you are some 
 times inspired. You dream in music as well 
 as in sleep. I know for certain that you 
 travel away occasionally where I could not 
 follow. The other evening, after I had fin 
 ished one of Mendelssohn's ' Songs without 
 Words,' you must have started off somewhere, 
 for when the modulations died away, there 
 was a hush, and you stood mute and absent 
 for nearly a minute ; waiting, I suppose, to 
 return with an echo from " 
 
 " From the Summerland," said her brother 
 quietly. William appeared very delicate, and 
 had hitherto sat gazing in a kind of musical 
 revery at his sister's beautiful face. " How I 
 should like, Pop, if I was dying, to be allowed 
 to go away by the light of such moonbeams, 
 and that you and pa would sing that nice 
 lullaby for me before I left for the spirit-land. 
 I like to hear that song when I am falling 
 asleep. If I have to go, won't you sing it for 
 me? Yes, Pop, you must sing with pa, and 
 I will hear your voices in the Summerland, 
 won't you ?" 
 
 " What is my darling saying ?" said Mrs. 
 Mannors, rushing over to him and clasping 
 him in her arms. " What is my darling say 
 ing about the spirits, or about the Summer- 
 land ? You shall not, you shall not go, dear ; 
 you must stay with me. Why, my dear child, 
 do you speak that way ?" said the already 
 terrified mother ; " who paid that you should 
 ever leave me ? We will never part, my dear, 
 never, never, never !" 
 
 He still sat and looked up at her with a 
 faint smile ; the moonlight was upon his face, 
 giving it a strange pallor, and then an ex 
 pression of seriousness, as if he understood 
 what he had said, and wished to give a 
 warning. 
 
 These remarks made by William so unex 
 pectedly, and at such a time, had a singular 
 effect upon every person present, especially 
 upon Mary who was much overcome ; and it 
 required all the persuasion which Mr. Man 
 nors could use to induce his wife to suppress 
 her feelings. Her agitation was great ; ehe 
 had but just entered the room, and had heard 
 every word of the boy's strange request. Her 
 emotions were such only as a mother could 
 feel. 
 
 " You know, my dear," said Mr. Mannors, 
 " that William is often very much depressed. 
 This infirmity will wear away as he grows 
 older ; he requires more exercise in the open 
 air. A boy's mind is easily affected. Hannah 
 has been telling him about the spiritualists 
 and about circles and manifestations ; and 
 about Bunyan's heroes, Christian, Evangelist 
 and Faithful ; and about the Summerland 
 or Happy-land. And you remember you 
 told him only yesterday about the beautiful 
 island you had seen in your dream, and how 
 you saw him there, walking in a garden where 
 there were such beautiful flowers, and then 
 resting under the shade of such fine trees by 
 the side of clear, sparkling streams, among 
 happy children who had been many years 
 
 dead, and most of whom you had known 
 when you were a child. You know that such 
 dream-stories can only leave a melancholy 
 impression ; even older persons have been 
 sadly controlled by similar imaginations. 
 Indeed, I am rather surprised," said he, some 
 what gayly, " that we are not all in the same 
 dreamy mood. Here we have been for the 
 ast hour with music and moonlight, and you 
 ought to know something of their influence 
 >y this time." He addressed the last remark 
 o Mr. Capel, and then sung in an undertone 
 ,he first lines of the old song, 
 
 " Meet me by moonlight alone 
 And it's then 1 will tell you a tale. 
 
 This happy turn had its desired effect, and 
 nearly brought back the cheerfulness which 
 lad been interrupted. In a few minutes, every 
 shadow had disappeared ; and when the lamps 
 were lighted and the heavy curtains let fall 
 over the windows, the moonlight disappeared 
 >om the room also. But, ah ! there might be 
 shadows lurking that the brightest light 
 could not dispel ; there might be gloom that 
 ;he noonday sun could never chase away. 
 What a pity ! Already a shadow was stretch 
 ing out that was destined to rest upon Mary's 
 flair brow, and already the first faint trace of 
 care had left a little furrow nestling close to 
 the golden ringlets which hung from her 
 classic head in such rich profusion. It was 
 affecting to witness the efforts made by Mary 
 to enliven her brother. Like a true, loving 
 sister as she was, she resorted to various little 
 methods to cheer away his temporary depres 
 sion. She sat close by his side and ran her 
 fingers through his hair, and put her lips to 
 his ear repeatedly, whispering something 
 that made him smile ; and then she led him 
 from the room to talk to Hannah and Robert 
 in the kitchen. During the remainder of the 
 evening, she scarcely left him ; she would not 
 allow him to brood alone for a moment ; and it 
 was not longbefore her winning wnys and lov 
 ing smiles restored him to boyish forgetful- 
 ness. 
 
 In a short time afterward, when all were 
 seated in the pleasant room at the supper-ta 
 ble, and when the bright lamp-liglns where 
 reflected in a circle of smiling faces, Mr. Man 
 nors, as the genial friend and hospitable host, 
 appeared to great advantage. He had the fa 
 culty of making people feel happy, and now 
 he related several anecdotes which were both 
 humorous and instructive. 
 
 Mr. Capel's first evening in his new home 
 was one which he said he could not forget : 
 his first meal was most appetizing. Even 
 Mrs. Baker, who was generally rather cold 
 and formal toward Mr. Mannors, now, for 
 once, relaxed her frigid demeanor. There 
 was no remark made that could offend her 
 religious sensibilities ; there was no unplea 
 sant innuendo. Mrs. Mannors might tell of 
 her dreams or visions, or allude to the dis 
 turbance at the Bible meeting, or speak of 
 ministers, or of ministers' wives, of mis 
 sions or Mohammedans, just as she pleased, 
 without eliciting a word from Mr. Mannors 
 that might be taken as a slight upon organ 
 ized piety. The preacher's wife therefore en
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 joyed herself more than she had for a long 
 time. So much was this the case, and so 
 mucli more had she inclined toward her host, 
 that she secretly wished her husband had bul 
 an opportunity to see him as he then was 
 even to witness but a few of the excellent 
 qualities which, in spite of all prejudice, she 
 must acknowledge were possessed in such an 
 eminent degree by this reputed despiser of 
 the liospel. 
 
 The cheerful hours passed away, and Mrs. 
 Baker had to return home. She left the col 
 late highly pleased with her visit. The 
 piano had given its last note for the night, 
 and Mrs. Mannors and Mary and William 
 had retired. Mr. Mannors and his guest sat 
 by the smouldering fire, talking freely about 
 many things, as it the various topics could 
 not be exhausted. Mr. Capel referred to the 
 Bible meeting, with the view of hearing his 
 opinion, and then to cautiously try and draw 
 him out on the subject of religion. Mr. Man 
 nors had read the account of the disgraceful 
 scenes which had been enacted in Mr. Howe's 
 church, and he alluded to the singular con 
 duct of the majority of ministers and hearers 
 who had openly encouraged what might be 
 called a religious riot. The shameful pro 
 ceedings had been talked of far and near, and 
 lie knew of many pious persons who exulted 
 in the defeat of a certain religious body on 
 that occasion. 
 
 "I must acknowledge," said Mr. Capel, 
 " that the whole proceedings were most dis 
 creditable, most shameful, most injurious to 
 our common Christianity." 
 
 " Or rather a common phase of Christianity," 
 returned Mr. Mannors. " I see you wish to 
 know my opinion on the subject, and I will 
 give it plainly. I know you will listen with 
 out offense. Religious people seem to exist 
 in contention ; it seems to be their normal con 
 dition ; they claim to monopolize all the vir 
 tue, honor, and morality which elevate hu 
 manity, and tell us that without the Bible 
 man would be worse than a brute. What, 
 then, has the Bible done for these men whose 
 professed calling is said to be to promote in 
 an especial manner peace and good-will? 
 What has the Bible done to appease the cla 
 morous sects around us who can violate, 
 mst deliberately, every principle of honor or 
 justice to obtain an ascendency? How is our 
 nation plundered and our people impoverished 
 to sustain a class of men who from pulpit 
 and platform shout out, ' The Bible, the whole 
 Bible, and nothing but the Bible.' and yet 
 astonishing fact the very rapacity of these 
 persons, the same now as in all time, has been 
 more depleting to our country than the sup- 
 iort of another abuse the payment of a 
 large standing army. Look at the pomp, and 
 splendor, and state of our national priest 
 hood 1 Is this right ? Look at the violent 
 upheaving and struggle for precedence among 
 the dissenting churches ! What is the great 
 actuating motive ? is it the ultimate benefit of 
 the people? Alas ! you, as well as I, must an 
 swer, No. There is a ceaseless craving for more, 
 more ; there is no appeasing the insatiable 
 appetite of our religious teachers. There is 
 an everlasting mania for the erection of pala 
 
 tial churches, for ministerial endowments, for 
 the printing and circulation of thousands of 
 Bibles, and for sending men called ' mission 
 aries ' away to the ends of the earth, while 
 we at home are infested with an ignorant, 
 vicious multitude, even in the very midst of a 
 crowd of priests. There is always something 
 to demand the child's toy, the widow's mite, 
 or the poor man's pence, at the time that, 
 thousands, yes, millions of human beings are 
 ke,.t languishing in poverty, and vainly strug 
 gling for the actual necessaries of life. There 
 is always some gulf in which the resources 
 of the nation are swallowed up in behalf 
 of this terrible despotism called ' KEMGION,' 
 which, while ostentatiously claiming to be 
 the handmaid of charity, exhibits its sordid- 
 ness by its unjust distribution of pence to the 
 poor and pounds to the church, rags for the 
 pauper and robes for the priest. This has 
 been the result of its influence ; it has conse 
 crated imposition, and almost dethroned hu 
 manity. 
 
 " On all sides of us we see churches tower 
 ing up, the most magnificent and costly 
 buildings in the land. In every city, town, 
 village or hamlet in Christendom, the most 
 prominent object is the sanctuary. A house 
 must be provided for the Lord, though the 
 poor perish on the highway. All sects, while 
 preaching humility, seem to delight in a ri 
 valry for fine churches ; the extravagance in 
 this respect is unbounded. There are now, 
 nearly or about a thousand of such edifices 
 in London alone, erected at a cost of mil 
 lions.* These magnificent piles are but sel 
 dom used, and, save a few h-'urs every week, 
 they remain closed to all the world. Accord 
 ing to the arrogance of clerical opinion, it 
 would be desecration 4 to devote them to any 
 thing else than religion. Were the opinion 
 not so prevalent, Science would not have to 
 tremble so often in a shed, while Religion 
 was exalted under a gilded canopy. Through 
 out the land, you will find a church where 
 no proper refuge for the poor has been 
 provided, or where no public school has 
 jeen yet erected. You will find poor, home 
 less wanderers, for whom no adequate provi 
 sion has been made ; hopeless men, forlorn 
 ivomen, and shivering children, who would 
 gladly find a shelter within such walls. Our 
 >oor-house prisons are not homes for the poor, 
 ;hey are prisons ; and the man who is once 
 weed to enter their walls feels forever de 
 graded. They are a disgrace to our age. 
 The splendid religious temples, so numerous 
 around us, have never yet been devoted to 
 the beneficent purposes of humanity. The 
 night shadows of bleak winter may fall heav- 
 ly around St. Paul's Cathedral, the cold 
 winds may blow, and drifting snow or tor 
 rents of rain may fall on the frozen earth, 
 )ut the desolate and wretched who wander 
 through the streets, and who know not where 
 to lay their heads, may look longingly in 
 vain at that great Christian monument. It 
 will be no asylum for them ; they are our 
 
 * St. Paul's Cathedral, London, Is over five hundred 
 eet long, covers two acres of ground, and cost the na- 
 ion 1,500,00*1 sterling about $7,600,000 Which wsi 
 ollected by a tax on coal 1
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 national vagrants, for whom nobody cares. 
 They may rest their wearied limbs where they 
 can, under door-steps and porches ; they may 
 lean against dead walls, or crouch into cor 
 ners, or creep into filthy drains or sewers; but 
 St. Paul's can not be polluted by such a rab 
 ble. Our religious civilization will not stand 
 this ; such noble structures are evidences of 
 national taste of our homage to superstition. 
 They are consecrated and dedicated, but must 
 not be desecrated by over-done efforts of 
 practical benevolence ; it would do violence 
 to religious feeling, and be, simply and plain- 
 ay, sacrilege. The rich cushion made for the 
 knee of wealth must not be used as a pillow 
 for the poor man's head." 
 
 Mr. Capel felt surprised at the vehemence 
 of his host ; there was a certain amount of 
 truth in what he had just heard, and which 
 he could not deny. Pious extravagance in the 
 erection and ornamentation of churches was 
 most remarkable. He had had positive evi 
 dence, time after time, that Gospel ministers 
 were not all saints, were no better than other 
 men, but in many respects far less liberal 
 and intelligent ; that the numerous sects 
 were not charitably disposed toward each 
 other, or always governed by just principles ; 
 but he thought ' that religion was not to 
 blame for this ; it was rather the want of it. 
 He felt embarrassed as to how he should re 
 ply, relative to the so-called desecration of 
 churches. The idea advanced by Mr. Man 
 nors was new to him, and his better nature 
 incl ned him to think that it could not be an 
 unholy act to give such shelter to the poor, 
 where shelter was so much needed. The tern 
 pie in which active charity was displayed 
 could not be less agreeable to the Lord than 
 that which was reserved for a mere pompous 
 exhibition of faith without works. It would 
 be difficult, however, to reduce such a theory 
 to practice ; clerical opinion was stubborn on 
 this point. He would think more on that 
 subject. 
 
 " You imagine it is rather a want of reli 
 gion," said Mr. Marmora. " I shall speak to 
 you concerning this again ; but, I ask, is 
 there not something wrong in so much relig 
 ious ostentation ? Is not the accumulation 
 and display of ecclesiastical wealth nignifi- 
 cant ? The history of religion in this island 
 is a national disgrace ; its race of intolerance 
 and oppression is nearly run ; but it lias been 
 a galling fetter upon the noblest impulses of 
 our people. Witness the cupidity of the 
 priest-power of this nation at the present 
 day. All mast succumb to the fraudulent 
 exaction of church rates, and to the cease 
 less importunities of the so-called voluntary 
 systems, which are almost as extortionate. 
 There is something wrong in all this. With 
 the immense sums annually expended for re 
 ligion, we have in our British cities as much 
 crime and destitution as you will find in an 
 equal number of heathen cities in any part 
 of the world. We may boast of our civiliza 
 tion, but we are still as obdurate, as selfish, 
 and as inhuman as those who have never yet 
 opened a Bible. We have enough for all, 
 yet thousands are starving. A few monopo 
 lize the wealth, a few more the land. Passive 
 
 obedience is preached in our churches, and th 
 poor are driven to desperation and crime. 
 We boast of British law laws that are based 
 upon the principle of revenge instead of re- 
 form. If a man can not pay his debts, we im 
 prison him ; if he commits a certain crime, 
 we take his life : we still have an eye for 
 an eye, and a tooth for a tooth. Religion 
 has never had any great regard for human 
 life. In ancient times, by its sanction, men 
 were robbed of their existence for trifling of 
 fenses ; and until lately, even in this civilized 
 kingdom, death was the penalty for offunses 
 a conviction for which may now bring but a 
 few month's imprisonment ; and still, notwith 
 standing the efforts of the humane, a painful 
 death is the legal remedy for misdemeanors 
 made crimes, and for crimes made capital, by 
 the persistency of Christian legislation." 
 
 " I must differ from you," replied Mr. Capel. 
 " I think Christianity has mitigated the rigor 
 of our laws; it has humanized our legisla 
 tion, no doubt of it ; and I think that we, as 
 Christian people, have good reason to boast 
 of the influence of religion in this respect." 
 
 " I fear you have forgotten. It is well 
 known that Christianity has claimed to be 
 the author of reforms which the church at 
 first opposed ; this is characteristic of its 
 course. When a few reformers aroused the 
 nation against the enormities of the slave- 
 trade, who was it that upheld the system ? 
 Who was it that waved aloft the lash of the 
 task-master, and tried to smother the hu 
 mane, the merciful impulse under a cloud of 
 texts? The national priests! During the 
 agitation of that question, some years ago, 
 the late Lord Eldon sarcastically said, in the 
 House of Lords, 'that he could not bring him 
 self to believe the slave-trade was irrecon 
 cilable with the Christian religion, as the 
 bench of bishops had uniformly sanctioned 
 by their votes the various acts of Parliament 
 authorizing that trade.'* I must remind you 
 that when petitions were sent to Parliament 
 against the death penalty, many of our minis 
 ters and preachers denounced the movement 
 from the pulpit, and successfully used their 
 influence against its abolition. ' Whoso 
 sheddeth man's blood, by man shall his blood 
 be shed,' is still the favorite text in support 
 of legalized murder.f If Christianity has 
 mitigated the rigor of our laws, the same ex 
 cellence was claimed for it when Catholic and 
 Protestant inquisitors endeavored to enforce 
 their mild doctrines through the medium of 
 the wheel, the rack, the thumbscrew, and the 
 boot ; by roasting and disjointing, by pressing, 
 tearing, crushing, and defacing, and by muti 
 lating and torturing the human body in every 
 imaginable way ! And it can not be denied 
 that these cruelties were entirely of Christian 
 origin. This, my friend, is a dreadful history ; 
 and if our laws are becoming more lenient, it 
 is because humanity has triumphed over the 
 scruples of religion." 
 
 Mr. Capel paused for a few moments before 
 
 * NoteO. 
 
 t " RCT Chas. B. 8- gave his views on marriage 
 
 and divorce, at the Cooper Institute, New-York, on 
 Sunday evening. He thought the only penalty for 
 adultery was the death of the guilty parties." From 
 a Philadelphia paper, 186T.
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 51 
 
 he replied. He could not positively deny 
 what had been asserted, and he hesitated, in 
 the hope that he might be able to find some 
 plea. " I do not," said he, " admit that 
 Popery is Christianity. The inquisition was a 
 disgrace, for which our purer faith should not 
 be held accountable." 
 
 "1 make but little distinction," said Mr. 
 Manners, " The leaven of intolerance is in the 
 whole lump, each in turn persecuting the 
 other. You surely can not forget the enormi 
 ties of the Star Chamber ; you can not forget 
 the fierce vindictive persecution that raged for 
 years among the Protestant sects Episcopa 
 lian against Dissenter, Puritan against Quak 
 er. 1 will not recall the enormities, they are 
 too painful. But I will ask you, plainly, 
 after all our church-building, and preaching, 
 and praying ; after all that has been extorted 
 for the maintenance of thousands of priests, 
 of all denominations what is the result of 
 our boasted Christianity ? Has it lessened 
 the brutalities of war? Has it made men 
 niore humane, more generous, more self- 
 denying, more forgiving, than those of re 
 mote times, who had never heard the Gospel 
 sound? What have we as the grand re 
 sult '!" 
 
 " People who can resort to persecution 
 have never been imbued with a true Christian 
 principle," replied. Mr. Capel. " I care not 
 how they are called ; the man who persecutes 
 for opinion's sake is not a Christian. I can 
 not admit that Christianity is answerable for 
 the enormities of which you speak." 
 
 " Then," said Mr. Mannors, " I do not un 
 derstand where Christianity is to be found, 
 if not among those who preach and those 
 who profess it ; if I can not find it among 
 the tried and true believers who are, and 
 have been, as ready to die for the faith as 
 they have been to persecute where is it to 
 be found 1 Ah my friend ! do not mistake 
 your natural sense of justice for the gift of 
 faith." 
 
 " If we look for pure Christianity," an 
 swered Mr. Capel, " we must look for it in the 
 Bible alone. Were men to be entirely guided 
 by its divine teachings, our world would be 
 different from what it is. Professors of re 
 ligion are, I admit, too often governed by an 
 gry passions ; they exhibit a want of forbear 
 ance. The Bible denounces error, but has no 
 plea for persecution. There is not a text be 
 tween its covers that favors such a principle." 
 
 " Then I do not understand the Bible," 
 said Mr. Mannors, " I consider its teaching 
 essentially intolerant ; and when I read such 
 texts as this, 'If there come any unto you 
 and bring not this doctrine, receive him not 
 into your house, neither bid him God-speed,' 
 (John 2: 10,) I am justified in believing that 
 it favors persecution. The anathema mnra- 
 unt/iti is ever ready. But as it is now getting 
 iate, we shall not pursue this subject any fur 
 ther at present. It is a pleasure to converse 
 with you, and I hope you wijl bear with me 
 hereafter if I venture to give you my opinion 
 of the Bible more plainly." 
 
 " I am ready," said Mr. Capel, " to listen to 
 any argument, either for or against the di 
 
 vine word. Truth can not suffer by discus 
 sion." 
 
 " I am much pleased to hear you say so. I 
 feel that I have spoken warmly on this sub 
 ject, I am obliged to do so ; and I well know 
 the penalty which must be paid for the free 
 expression of opinion. Our ministers are 
 ever ready to denounce any person who may 
 venture to question what you call ' Divine 
 Revelation.' Instead of courting investiga 
 tion, they try to avoid it. They are a popu 
 lar and in'luential body, and it is not always 
 safe to hurl a stone against a popular idol. 
 It requires no small share of moral courage 
 to smite the image; but if the duty falls to 
 my lot, then it shall be performed ; I am 
 willing to strike the blow alone. I was once 
 a believer, as you now are ; I can believe no 
 longer. I know that it requires much pa 
 tience and fortitude to contend against a pop 
 ular error. I respect the honest opinions of 
 men of all creeds ; I interfere not with them ; 
 but if any are desirous of approaching the 
 light, they shall have my sympathies. It ia 
 hard to be maligned by men who profess to 
 have been regenerated, yet who have not 
 learned the lesson of charity. For yeara 
 I have been misrepresented by certain of 
 your preachers, because I can not bring 
 myself to a passive belief of all that is re 
 corded in the Scriptures. The late meeting 
 of your Bible Society ought, 1 think, to satisfy 
 you that some who profess to be ministers of 
 Christ are wicked and designing. I know of 
 but one who was at that meeting who is actu 
 ally infamous. I know of one who is courted 
 and smiled upon, and treated as the principal 
 pillar of one of the great religious bodies, 
 whose voice has charmed many in the sanctu 
 ary, but whose fierce intolerance has brought 
 sorrow to his own home ; and there may be 
 yet one poor broken heart to cry out against 
 him, ' How long, O Lord ! how long ! ' " 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 EARLY next morning, when Mr. Capel 
 looked from his window, he was delighted 
 with the fine panoramic view which he ob 
 tained of the distant city and surrounding 
 scenery. Faint streaks of red light in th6 
 east betokened the coming glory of the ris 
 ing sun, and in, a short time those early har- 
 bi Hirers of the day god were spread around 
 in all directions, illuminating every object, 
 crowning the distant hills with ruddy light, 
 and sending golden rays over ancient tree 
 and castle, and then flashing on a hundred 
 glitterinj; spires of the proud metropolis. 
 The great cross of St. Paul's was again visi 
 ble in the morning sky ; and that which had 
 been observed by Mrs. Mannors as a cause of 
 so much superstitious reverence was now 
 only more noticeable from its great altitude, 
 not from any thing peculiar in its appearance. 
 
 He mused as the sunlight rested on the 
 window-sill, and threw a glimmer on the 
 rustling ivy that was creeping upward with 
 silent progress. He still looked toward the
 
 52 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 city, and felt a degree of surprise at the vast 
 number of towers and steeples which were 
 looming up, as if trying to leave the smoky 
 gloom, and the darker objects by which they 
 were surrounded. These numerous struc 
 tures called to his remembrance the remarks 
 of his friend Mr. Mnnnors What vast sums 
 must have been expended in their erection ! 
 and the question again came, What was the 
 result ? Could it be that the world was in 
 reality no better than if they had been so 
 many heathen temples? Could it be that 
 these numerous sanctuaries, dedicated to God, 
 had not made the mass of the populace of 
 London any better, but had been erected and 
 consecrated to provide wealth, ease, and dis 
 tinction for a horde of religious stock-brokers 
 and professional imposters? Yet this was the 
 opinion of thousands, who assert that they 
 are forced to tolerate an unscrupulous priest 
 hood. He was willing to admit that there 
 was a portion of truth in the supposition ; 
 still he thought that such an extreme view 
 could not be justified. There were, no doubt, 
 many stately churches which had been built as 
 much for the adornment of the city as for 
 temples for worship ; but were there not 
 many other places in which the pure word of 
 God was regularly expounded by faithful, 
 persevering men, who, in the very midst of 
 the pride and pomp of this mighty Babylon 
 were not ashamed to go out into the high 
 ways, and into the streets, lanes and alleys to 
 call upon the reckless and abandoned ? 
 
 But why, thought he, with all these 
 churches crowded Into every quarter, why is 
 there still such a complaint of " religious 
 destitution "? With BO many hundred places 
 of worship, several of a gorgeous and impos 
 ing appearance, and with a multitude of 
 priests, from the princely archbishop, loll 
 ing in his luxurious carriage, down to the 
 most humble, dissenting itinerant, there was 
 yet an amount of vice and ignorance in Lon 
 don that was almost overwhelming. By the 
 immensity of aids and appliances which 
 Christianity had at its command wealth, 
 power, and authority any religions system, 
 Mormonism or Mohammedanism, or any other 
 ism, no matter how monstrous, absurd, or de 
 basing to human reason, might be inculcated 
 and established by resolute men. Yet even with 
 these very means, to an enormous extent, the 
 complaint still was, that tl e national faith 
 was languishing, and that many, even among 
 priests and pious literati, began to doubt, just 
 as if Christianity was behind the age a 
 drag upon science, and as if it contained no 
 intrinsic excellence that could not be made 
 sufficiently manifest without the persuasive 
 aid of gold, legal enactments, and priestly 
 pensioners. 
 
 Almost every city paper contained, periodi 
 cally, accounts of some great meeting, got up 
 by the clergy, for the purpose of making pious 
 appeals to the benevolent for fresh means to 
 meet the spiritual wants said to be so fast in 
 creasing. Did these wants arise from an in 
 crease of sinners, or an increase of priests? 
 Every possible method was used to induce the 
 people to resort to places of worship ; and to 
 effect this more paTt.icularly the ministry 
 
 united, almost to a man, in making pulpit ap 
 peals against Sabbath d- secration. They 
 loudly decried against a re-sort to public parks, 
 gardens, libraries, or museums, but all to no 
 purpose ; the great mass of the working people 
 would not come under the clerical yoke : and if 
 debarred from such favorite places, many 
 might wander away among green fields or 
 pleasant highways, while too many others 
 would defiantly resort to dram-shops, gin 
 palaces, or dens of depravity. It was proved by 
 official returns, that the numerous churches 
 and chapels already erected were on the aver 
 age not more than one third filled by regular 
 attendants ; and it was a well known fact that, 
 with regard to the Established Church, not 
 more^than one third of the number of its 
 :leri< al incumbents ever did more for religion 
 than go through the occasional formality oi 
 reading liturgical prayers, or delivering a 
 languid sermon often the composition of some 
 needy author. Yet still these very incumbents 
 who live in ease, and revel in such ducal in 
 comes, or draw such exorbitant salaries, are, 
 without the least compunction, am< ng the 
 very first to shout out, " More money, more 
 :hurches, more priests, and more Sunday 
 restrictions." 
 
 These circumstances were degrading to re 
 ligion. The truth was not preached, but it 
 was made merchandise of by unscrupulous men, 
 whose priestly trade was but a source of wealth 
 to themselves and a tax on the nation. The 
 Queen, Lords, and Commons united in support 
 of that great religious imposition called 
 ' The Church ;" and our legislators stood agape 
 if any one dared to question such a palpable 
 outrage. The church must be protected even 
 though blood should be daily shed in sup 
 port of its exactions. 
 
 But then, thought he, the dissenting 
 ministers are a different class ; were it not for 
 them, Christianity in Britain would be almost 
 extinct. These ministers might in reality be 
 called the " successors." They were persons 
 who cared not to preach for the sake of filthy 
 lucre ; the souls of men were of more value to 
 them than rich livings or ecclesiastical prefer 
 ments. But, alas! even among dissenters, there 
 were only a few of such preachers. They, too, 
 had undoubtedly become more worldly. The 
 strife and bitter feeling among the various 
 sects seemed to grow with their growth, and 
 strengthen! with their strength. This con 
 tinued strife was quite sufficient to counteract 
 all the good that had been done by the mcst 
 successful revivalists. And now, at the present 
 day, while places of worship have been quadru 
 pled ; when preaching has become a lucrative 
 trade; while the younger sons of the British 
 aristocracy are foisted into bishoprics Inking 
 precedence of merit in tlie church as they do 
 of valor in the army when clergymen and 
 preachers of all ranks and conditions are aim 
 ing after popularity and distinction, while 
 sects and denominations of all kinds have be 
 come wealthy and influential, and while the 
 Christian creed has an aegis of protection in 
 the strong arm of the law, the religious 
 world is actually retrograding, and religion 
 itself is held among many of the most gifted 
 and intelligent to be only a delusion.
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 5 
 
 These were strange thoughts for a young 
 preacher to indulge in, but they were such as 
 had obtruded upon him at the time. He could 
 not reject the evidence that had forcibly pre 
 sented itself day after day. Again he tried to 
 turn from these unpleasant cogitations ; be 
 neath him was the smiling garden, and the 
 fresh fragrance of the morning ascended to 
 where he stood. Spring flowers were fling 
 ing their incense to the young day, and buds 
 of beauty that had been cared tor by the hand 
 of a fair girl were blushing in the early sun 
 beams. What peace seemed to rest upon the 
 dwelling! When he thought of his friendly 
 host, it was with a feeling of sincere pleasure, 
 and he felt grateful tliat his lines had fallen 
 in such pleasant places. He thought of Mary 
 Mannors ; her song seemed to linger in his 
 ear ; her image was before him, and her sweet 
 smile rose like ra liance in his memory. Mrs. 
 Mannors he considered an excellent woman 
 good, pious, and charitable, but far behind 
 either father or daughter in mental qualities ; 
 and already to him dyi that daughter appear 
 as the special angel of the household. 
 
 Indeed, Mr. Capel might be justified in 
 granting that position to Mary Mannors. Al 
 most every thing that was beautiful or attrac 
 tive in or about Hampstead Cottage bore traces 
 of her superintendence. In fine weather, she 
 spent much of her time in the garden. She 
 trimmed the shrubs, trained the vines, nursed 
 young, delicate plants, and petted the birds in 
 the hall ; and when she approached t he cages, 
 the little inmates became at once vocal. With 
 William as her almost constant attendant, the 
 flower pots, the flowers, the fountain, the rock 
 work, and even the neat graveled walks, were 
 all kept more trim and orderly by her indus 
 trious care. She was also quite competent 
 to superintend household affairs. 
 
 What a blessing, thought Mr. Capel, she 
 might be to her mother were she only brought 
 under the full influence of religion, and not to 
 her mother alone, but to her father; for she 
 might >e a miss onary, whose gentle teaching 
 would be more persuasive to a mind lik his 
 than that of the most skillful polemic, or than 
 the argument of the most learned pulpit oration. 
 
 The events of the previous evening passed 
 rapidly before him, and he began to reflect 
 upon the duty which he had undertaken. He 
 was greatly pleased with the frank, courteous 
 disposition of Mr. Mannors ; but he feared it 
 would be a difficult task to make him believe 
 that the sentiments which he held upon 
 religious subjects were erroneous. 
 
 Mr. Capel, as well as other preachers, often 
 had troublesome doubts arise in his own 
 mind, he often felt confused about various 
 ambiguous passages in the Bible, and 
 about their various interpretations. He 
 was often perplexed by contradictory chap 
 ters, verses, and texts ; and the bare idea of 
 eternal punishment was most repulsive, 
 and conflicted greatly with his conception 
 of divine benevolence. It would not, how 
 ever, be prudent to mention these doubts to 
 any one ; lea-t of all to the person whom he 
 was now desirous of reclaiming from error. 
 
 I have been, thought Mr. Capel, too much 
 like a doubting Thomas, ever ready to stumble 
 
 over the slightest obstruction. I have allowed 
 my frail reason to interfere with my faith, and 
 if I do not suppress these rebellious thoughts, 
 as others in the faith make it a duty to do, 
 I may go on forever doubting and reasoning 
 and reasoning and doubting, until I shall have 
 stepped over the precipice which has brought 
 destruction to so many. Why should I set up 
 my opinions against those of the mo<t able 
 and intellectual that England has produced? 
 Why should I hesitate to accept that which 
 has been tried by a Wesley, a Clark, an 1 a 
 Paley ? Great minds have submitted to reve 
 lation, and surely / can not refuse the truth 
 which has been so apparent and conclusive 
 to them. To doubt what Newton believed 
 would be folly and presumption. 
 
 Before he left his room, he decided to be 
 more prayerful, to try and banish every doubt, 
 and to place full trust in the Lord. He 
 would speak to Mr. Mannors in all sinceri 
 ty ; he would tell him of his lost state by 
 nature, and how he might be enlightened by 
 the Divine Spirit, and how he might be saved 
 by placing all trust in the propitiatory sacri 
 fice made for every child of Adam. He would 
 in this matter boldly take up his cross, and 
 the Lord would n >t be forgetful of his 
 promise, but would reveal himself, and estab 
 lish his own truth. That truth must be ir 
 resistible, particularly to one who, like Mr. 
 Mannors was a sincere inquirer, and who 
 could in calm discussion throw aside every 
 prejudice and submit to honest conviction. 
 
 As Mr. Capel entered the parlor Miss Man 
 nors had just commenced to play one of 
 Beethoven's beautiful sonatas ; she was not 
 aware of the presence of the young preacher. 
 She sat in her loose morning dress, and every 
 motion was the perfection of grace. Her un 
 bound golden hair hung around her snowy 
 shoulders, and her delicate fingers ran along 
 the keys with finished touch, sending out the 
 most exquisite harmony. What little seraphs 
 had once seemed to his boyish mind, Mary 
 was now to his manhood ; and as she still 
 played, her presence and her music had such 
 a magical effect that neither by word nor 
 action could he interrupt the fair performer, 
 and he listened delighted and spell-bound for 
 the time. 
 
 When the piece was finished, he addressed 
 Miss .Mannors. Shn was a little surprised, and 
 a faint blush overspread her face, greatly add 
 ing to her personal attractions, and render 
 ing the clear blue eyes which she had now 
 turned toward him einsrularly fascinating. 
 She had not the least idea that he had been a 
 listener in the very room ; and now that they 
 were alone for the first time, she felt slightly 
 embarrassed. But with her, such a feeling 
 could be only momentary ; she looked up at 
 him confidently, and said : " I hope I played 
 one of your favorite pieces. Pa says you are 
 a good judge of music, and indeed I think so 
 too. I fancy I heard your voice last veiling, 
 you sang tor a minute or two, and then quit 
 suddenly as if you were afraid. Let me see, 
 Quakers, I believe, never indulge in music. 
 How strange ! Is it sinful to sing ?" 
 
 " Oh ! not at all ; we sing in our worship, 
 we praise God in music."
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 " Yes, of course yon sing hymns ; but such 
 eongs only. Now, you are a minister, aud I 
 think you will acknowledge that no one can 
 be very bad who is readily touched or affected 
 by music. Ma used to tell me when I was a 
 child, tliat little angels were continually sing 
 ing delightful melodies. Music, therefore, 
 must be a heavenly acquirement." 
 
 " Heaven would not, I think, be perfect 
 without it," said Mr. Capel. " Angels are 
 always musical ; and I find that some of our 
 earthly angels are very like their sisters in 
 paradise." 
 
 Miss Manners again blushed slightly ; she 
 was perhaps a little contused by the reply, 
 but she continued as if she had not heard it. 
 
 " I can not on that account," said she, *' be a 
 very great sinner. 1 don't pretendt to be a 
 saint, but I find that even some of our most 
 religious persons are alvvuys deploring their 
 own vileness, as they call it. Now really, Mr. 
 Cape), don't you t' ink that many of our pious 
 people exaggerate a great deal with such re 
 ligious phraseology of self-condemnation ? 
 Now, my mamma isone of the best and kindest 
 hearts in all the world, yet she is given to be 
 wail her own sinfulness ; and she has told us 
 over fifty times that we in this quiet place ar 
 all wicked and sinful, and very bad in most 
 respects. Can this be so? And Mr. Wesley, 
 who, as you know, was a very good man natu 
 rally, and I suppose much better for having 
 been such a devoted minister, often boasted 
 if I may use that expression that he was the 
 ' chief of sinners ' ! Was not such an assertion 
 truly and positively wrong ? It was not only 
 a very absurd exaggeration, but almost if not 
 quite a of course I won't say what. Don't 
 you think so ?'' 
 
 This question, simple as it was, and put 
 with such na'icete, really disconcerted him for 
 a few moments ; but the usual orthodox reply 
 came to his rescue, and he said : 
 
 " According to the Scriptures, Miss Man- 
 nors, we are all sinners by nature. We are 
 told that there is none good, no, not one. 
 I acknowledge that there seems to be an ap 
 parent incongruity in the assertion to which 
 you allude. As fallible beings, we are not 
 truly capable of judging as to what is right or 
 what is wrong. 
 
 " We think favorably of those whom we be 
 lieve to be good and virtuous ; we may be 
 partial, but there are no degrees of sin in 
 the sight of God ; all alike are under condem 
 nation. And until a man becomes regenerate, 
 jmd freed from the curse of the law, he has 
 no right to expect the favor of God, or con 
 sider himself any thing but a sinner of the 
 deepest dye." 
 
 " Under the curse of the law I Dreadful, 
 dreadful !" said Mary, with an arch smile ; 
 " why, really, I think religious persons must 
 be very unhappy. Just to think of having to 
 believe that all the good, kind people we Bee 
 around us are such terrible wretches as to 
 deserve such condemnation ! And then to 
 believe that God, who is said to be so loving 
 and merciful, is to be always so unforgiving 
 arid vindictive toward creatures which he 
 himself is said to have created. I can not 
 believe this. You must remember that it was 
 
 after his conversion that Mr. Wesley used tc 
 presume to be the ' chief of sinners. ' You 
 can not believe that he was. Ma and Hau 
 nah are almost always telling us of his good 
 ness ; and to read his interesting journals, 
 you could come to no other conclusion than 
 that he was a favorite with God aud man. 
 Yet how mistaken good men can be some 
 times !" 
 
 " Mr. Wesley was certainly a blessing to the 
 world," said Mr. Capel ; " he was particular 
 ly successful as a preacher of righteousness, 
 and no doubt many are n<>w among the re 
 deemed whom he can claim as seals to his 
 ministry. He now enjoys his heavenly le- 
 ward." 
 
 "And yet, wonderful to relate, he was all 
 the time the ' chief of sinners.' Well, I de 
 clare, Mr. Capel, there is something very in 
 consistent in such an idea. Then you believe 
 that the Almighty thinks every person fit for 
 condemnation but the regenerate ; and that 
 until we are what you call ' born again,' we 
 are all equally guilty, and must all perish 
 alike under the curse of the law? What 
 injustice to make me answerable for the sins 
 of another ! Why did God permit Adam to 
 be tempted, when he knew that he could not 
 resist? Then if I am under this curse, how 
 am I to get free ? I remember a text which 
 I learned at Sunday-school, ' No man can come 
 to me except the Father which hath sent me 
 draw him.' If we can not repent until we are 
 drawn, punishment for non-compliance would 
 seem unjust. There are some other singular 
 passages in the Bible which go to prove that 
 the Deity is partial, ' blinding the eyes ' and 
 ' hardening the hearts ' of some, lest they 
 should be converted. This is hard to believe ; 
 it may be orthodoxy, but it is not humanity. 
 Such a doctrine is opposed to the better feel 
 ings of our nature ; it is most repulsive. We 
 fallible creatures readily admit that there are 
 degrees of guilt, and our reason and common 
 sense lead us to believe that there ought to 
 be degrees of punishment. Our reformatory 
 laws are based upon such a principle ; but to 
 condemn all alike, may be divine justice ac 
 cording to Scripture; it is certainly not con 
 sistent with human jurisprudence." 
 
 While speaking thus, Mary Mannors looked 
 him full in the face, and her emotion spread a 
 glow over her beautiful countenance. He 
 paused in admiration and astonishment. She 
 had given him a specimen of precocious reason 
 ing which he did not expect ; he had never 
 before heard a person of her age express sen 
 timents so fearlessly, or with such a feeling 
 of thorough indifference to orthodox censure. 
 His immediate impulse was in sympathy with 
 her opinions, but that impulse was but mo 
 mentary. As like others anxious to believe, 
 Faith was ever ready to whisper, " Beware of 
 reason," and Faith with him Ktill had the 
 ascendency. 
 
 " I am aware, Miss Mannors," said, he with 
 
 some diffidence, " that there are passages in 
 
 the Bible hard to be understood ; but there is 
 
 enough sufficiently plain to teach us our duty. 
 
 I trust you will some day view these matters 
 
 j as I now do. We know by experience how 
 
 1 difficult it is for human tribunals to decide
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 55 
 
 the claims of justice. What injustice has been 
 done where, justice has been the aim ! We 
 must submit entirely to the claims of revela 
 tion. Without the Bible, our reason would 
 lead us far astray, and the world would be 
 Badly bewildered." 
 
 " Upon my word," said Mary, laughing, 
 " without desiring to speak irreverently, I 
 think the Bible has sadly bewildered those 
 who pretend to expound it. If there are, as 
 you say, pussies in that book hard to be un 
 derstood, and liable to produce error and un 
 certainty, what necessity was there for them ? 
 They could not have been written for our in 
 struction or edification. I am inclined to 
 think that while we ignore reason in these 
 matters, we shut out the only light we have. 
 I 1'ear you will think that I presume too 
 much ; but from the variety of opinions, the 
 number of creeds, contradictions, and conflict 
 ing doctrines all said to be derived from the 
 same inspired source, and all claiming the 
 same infallibility, those who are dete- mined 
 to stick to the Bible as being an inspired 
 book must ever remain in a wilderness of 
 doubt and speculation." 
 
 " Why such passages are included in the 
 Bible is at present beyond our comprehen 
 sion ; we must only assume," said Mr. Capel, 
 " that they are intended for some good pur 
 pose. It would be folly to reject all, because 
 a portion is beyond our reason. The Bible, as 
 it is, is the only revelation from God to man. 
 In it we have sufficient instruction, and if we 
 are governed by its precepts, we need not fear 
 the designs of the Evil One, we need not be 
 afraid to die." 
 
 " Well, well," said Mary, " I can not under 
 stand these things. I fear no evil one ; and, 
 when my time comes, I shall not be afraid to 
 die. But apart from this, if you say that un 
 til we become regenerated we must consider 
 ourselves sinners of the deepest dye, I can not 
 agree with you. Now, do you think," said she, 
 smiling, and giving him an arch look, "do 
 you really think that / am such a wretched 
 sinner, and that I deserve such terrible punish 
 ment ? I do not feel that I am. I do not believe 
 that I am. I never did the least harm to any 
 one in my life ; indeed, I would much rather do 
 a kindness than an injury. And to say that 
 I should be obliged to consider pa and Wil 
 liam, whom I love, and many other excellent 
 persons whom I know and regard, as vile de 
 graded creatures, full of all kinds of sin and 
 mischief, I would rather be vilified and de 
 spised as a downright unbeliever ; as far as 
 that goes, I am an unbeliever. I would not 
 on any account submit to such a doctrine. I 
 think you will find it difficult to do so your 
 self. If, in order to be a good Christian, you 
 must believe that a few of us, quiet, unoffend 
 ing people in this house, are as bad as even 
 pome of the ministers we read of in the papers, 
 why then," said she, smiling, " we shall never 
 be of one mind." 
 
 " That's right, Pop, that's right," said Mr. 
 Manners, who now entered the room, carrying 
 William on his back. " I have overheard what 
 you have just said, and if Mr. Capel is right, 
 I must, like Bunyan's Pilgrim, get rid of this 
 
 little bundle of sin ;" and he placed William 
 on a chair near his sister. " You see, Mr. 
 Capel, when I am away, my daughter is my 
 representative, and if you tell her we are 
 all such bad people, then you must ex 
 pect to get some hard blows. He tries to 
 imagine that we are as wicked and corrupt 
 as your mamma and poor Hannah fancy wa 
 are, does he?" said he, addressing Mary; 
 and while he stood smiling behind her chair 
 he began to smooth down her glossy ringlets 
 with his open hands. 
 
 " Indeed, Miss Mannors is a very good ex 
 ponent of the doctrine of self-righteousness," 
 said Mr. Capel pleasantly. " I am afraid she 
 is under the impression that the saints are a 
 very exclusive set of beings. I trust, however, 
 that before long she will be better acquainted 
 with their sentiments." 
 
 Mary now stood by the piano, and again 
 her fingers ran over the keys in a careless 
 manner ; and the notes that she awoke came 
 in response to the gentle feelings of her own 
 bosom. She had no dread of future misery ; 
 she had no fear of a Deity who created her for 
 purposes of vengeance. She felt no condem 
 nation for any thing she had done, and had 
 it been in her power, she would have willing 
 ly banished care, and distress, and sorrow 
 from every human being. She was not pos 
 sessed of one truly selfish feeling, and had no 
 higher ambition than to try and make the lit 
 tle circle in which she moved radiant with 
 happiness. What, then, had she to fear? 
 Ministers of the Gospel might frighten others 
 about the " wrath of an offended God," and 
 about the " death that never dies," and 
 about flames and tortures, and the horrors de 
 picted by Baxter, Edwards, and Doddridge,* 
 she would believe in no such vengeance of 
 no worse fiends than some of those in human 
 shape. She would still hope and trust in 
 the great Being who made this beautiful 
 earth, and the blue skies ; who smiled in the 
 sunlight, and gave fragrance to the flower. 
 She would trust that Being who had given 
 her a heart to feel, and who had given to her, 
 and to them she loved, faculties for enjoyment ; 
 and who, above all, had endowed her with 
 reason to resist teachings which would por 
 tray the Omnipotent Power as a barbarous di 
 vinity, influenced by malignant passions ca 
 pricious, arbitrary, tyrannical, and revenge 
 ful. 
 
 Her fingers still wandered over the instru 
 ment, bringing out snatches of favorite airs ; 
 and as she stood with her head turned to the 
 sunlight, and her eyes directed toward some 
 dew-spangled flower in the garden, she looked 
 more like the impersonation of true womanly 
 dignity and worth than the deluded abbess 
 immured in a convent ; or than many of her 
 Protestant sisters who pay a silly worship to 
 popular priests, and who neglect the duties of 
 home to go on a round of collections for the 
 purpose of erecting churches, circulating tracts 
 and Bibles, or for providing funds and an out* 
 fit for Utopian missionaries to the frantic Fee- 
 jees or treacherous Tongataboos. 
 
 *See Note D.
 
 5ft 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 MRS. MANNORS had a triumph 1 This morn 
 ing, for the first time in many, years they 
 had regular family devotion ; the domestic 
 altar had again been raised in the good old 
 fashion. A chapter was read, then a few 
 words by way of explanation, and then there 
 was prayer. What was more wonderful to 
 her, Mr. Manners had actually graced that 
 triumph by his presence. He and Miss Man 
 ners attended, as well as William and Han 
 nah. All had assembled in the breakfast- 
 room, and the greatest attention was paid 
 while Mr. Capel was occupied in the per 
 formance of that service. Mrs. Mannors 
 was in the best of spirits ; she had brought 
 this thing to pass ; she felt like blessing 
 the Lord all day long ; and during break 
 fast, she entertained them with cheerful con 
 versation about preachers and brethren, and 
 about pleasant tea meetings in contemplation. 
 And then she dwelt in anticipation upon the 
 glorious time they were going to have in their 
 grand assault on the stronghold of Satan, at 
 the protracted or revival meeting that was 
 Boon to take place ; many stubborn sinners 
 were to be subdued, and the Lord was to be 
 mightily magnified by the conquest. Then 
 she told them about the busy preparations 
 that were making for the great meeting of 
 the British and Foreign Bible Society, to be 
 held in Exeter Hall in the month of May ; 
 and about the ship load of idols, and Indian 
 chiefs, and converted cannibals that were j 
 daily expected from foreign parts, and that j 
 were to be openly exhibited at a subsequent ' 
 missionary meeting genuine Gospel tri 
 umphs ! Shs was not troubled this morning 
 by the effects of any particular dream. Wil 
 liam looked much better ; she smiled most 
 benignantly on Mr. ( 'apel, and altogether she 
 was in a most satisfactory state and very hap- 
 
 P. v - 
 
 There were others also that morning, at 
 Hampstead who to a certain, extent might be 
 said to be in the enjoyment of as full a 
 measure of contentment as Mrs. Mannors. 
 The young preacher could scarcely fancy that 
 he was not among his own dearest relatives. 
 He was'almost persuaded to believe that Heath 
 Cottage had once been his home, and that he 
 had now returned to it after an absence of 
 many years. He became communicative, and 
 spoke about Ireland, and gave a description of 
 the unrivaled natural beauty of the environs 
 of his native city. He related anecdotes of 
 his younger days, and then revealed a little 
 of hi* family history. He told them of the 
 death of bis mother and brother, and how 
 lonely the world appeared to him afterward, 
 and how he had been induced to enter the 
 ministry. While he mentioned these things, 
 he could not help perceiving that he was 
 winning the sympathy of his new friends, 
 and when he told them of his last visit to the 
 old churchyard, where his parents and his 
 little brother rested, and how he planted a 
 rose-tree at ech grave, and how wretched he 
 felt when he had to leave all and go out into 
 the world among total strangers, he saw that 
 beside Mrs. Mannors's there was one pair of 
 
 soft eyes almost suffused with tears, and tht 
 solemnity on William's face was remarked by 
 his mother as being strangely serious. Even 
 Mr. Mannors was sensibly affected by the 
 simple recital, and he spoke such warm words 
 of encouragement as to make Mr. Capel truly 
 feel that he was not without a h,ome and 
 friends. 
 
 During the conversation in the breakfast 
 room, Hannah indulged as usual. Her voice 
 from the kitchen could be heard singing 
 lustily oneof Wesley's hymns. She, too, seem 
 ed to be under the prevailing influence of the 
 time ; she was in the spirit, and although a 
 good-natured laugh of mockery from Robert, 
 who was working in the garden, could also be 
 occasionally heard, Hannah seemed to pay no 
 heed to the interruption, but resolutely con 
 tinued until the entire hymn was finished. 
 
 Mr. Capel had yet a week to remain before he 
 was required to recommence his itinerant vis 
 itations on the circuit. He would have been 
 much better pleased had it been a fortnight ; 
 he was, however, determined to enjoy in the 
 mean time all the happiness he could, and to 
 make his stay at Hampstead agreeable to his 
 new friends. He intended to embrace the first 
 opportunity that offered in opening his mind 
 to Mr. Mannors on the subject of religion, and 
 if possible try and wean him from his erroneous 
 views. He felt that he was but a weak instru 
 ment to effect much good. He knew his own 
 inability to deal with a person of such mental 
 calibre as his hospitable friend ; but, fullv 
 trusting for aid from on high, he would under 
 take the duty in all humility, conscious that 
 many eyes were fixed upon him, and that if he 
 succeeded his success would be a triumph for 
 the Gospel that might make scoffers and sk-p- 
 tics pause on their downward road. He would 
 do his best, not for the purpose of obtaining 
 any credit for himself, but for the further illus 
 tration of the potency of the Divine Word. He 
 had already been considering some of the ob 
 jections urged by Ms friend, and he thought 
 it possible to meet them in a satisfactory man 
 ner. He had no faith in the subleties of argu 
 ment or controversy ; he knew that prayer 
 and faith would remove every mountain of 
 unbelief ; the result he would leave in the hand 
 of the Lord. 
 
 The opportunity sought for by the young 
 preacher was not long waiting.' Mrs. Manners 
 had that day to visit Mrs. Baker, and she 
 wished Mary and her brother to accompany 
 her ; the visit might benefit William. An 
 early start was desirable, and in a short time 
 Robert drove up with a plain, comfortable vehi 
 cle. Mr. Capel assisted Miss Mannors to her 
 place, and was rewarded by one of her sweetest 
 smiles. All was ready, and the parting be 
 tween Mr Mannors and his wife and children 
 was as affectionate as if they were not, to meet 
 again for a month ; and when the carriage 
 drove away, he and Mr. Capol stood at the 
 gate, and looked after them until they were 
 entirely out of sight. 
 
 It might not be difficult toHpeculate upon the 
 young preacher's thoughts at the moment. It 
 might not be hard to guess who it was that 
 monopolized the most prominent place in his 
 imagination, and who it was in particular
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 57 
 
 that lie missed when the sound of .the wheels 
 died away in the distance, and when the light 
 clouds of dust that rose up behind them grew 
 thicker and thicker. Although the sunlight 
 was as bright as ever, yet already there was 
 something shadowy in the appearance o Heath 
 Cottage there was a want of life about the 
 place; even now, he really thought that the 
 lowers were drooping their delicate heads, as 
 f their queen had taken flight ; that the little 
 buntain had almost ceased to play, as if its 
 Cashing jets could only leave mere bubbles 
 upon the surface of the limpid water; and 
 ! lat the yellow birds which looked up so often 
 from their handsome prisons to the blue sky 
 were; more silent, just merely giving an occa 
 sional note, as if to let you know that they 
 were yet alive. In spite of all he could do, a 
 feeling of loneliness crept over him, and he 
 was not much enlivened when Mr. Manners 
 Baid, in a kind of regretful mood, " There goes 
 all my earthly treasure." 
 
 As they walked toward the house, Mr. Capel 
 remarked, how happy they must be who had 
 not their entire treasure upon earth, but who 
 had their chief store laid up, where neither 
 moth nor rust could corrupt nor thief break 
 through to steal. What a privilege those en 
 joyed who could give up all, and forget all, for 
 heaven. " Suppose," continued he. " that you 
 should lose that treasure which you have rea- 
 s )ii to prize so highly, what consolation would 
 you have left '?" 
 
 " None, that I know of, but my tears nature's 
 own soothing. I would have to bear the afflic 
 tion as best I could; we know by experience 
 that such losses are among the contingencies 
 of life, and are sure to follow in the course of 
 human events. I envy no one the selfish privi 
 lege of forgetfulness. To be in such a place 
 as heaven itself could not induce me to forget 
 those I love may I never be so selfish ! My 
 treasures are, however.upon this earth.which is 
 now my heaven ; and should I be so unfortunate 
 as to lose them, I shall, no doubt, be delighted 
 if I can again meet them in any happier place, 
 or in some future state of existence." 
 
 The young preacher then endeavored to 
 assure him of the certainty of such a meeting ; 
 i was that certainty which sustained the pious 
 in afflictions or bereavement ; and he then quot 
 ed several passages of Scripture in support of 
 his assertions. Mr. Manners, however, stated 
 his regret that such passages were not sufficient 
 to assure him, having had good reasons to 
 question their authenticity; and as doubts 
 were thrown on leading texts which Mr. Capel 
 endeavored to explain, Mr. Manners suggest 
 ed that they should retire to his study where 
 he had some books bearing on the question, 
 and where they would be able to converse 
 without interruption. 
 
 " Well," said Mr. Manners, when they were 
 quietly seated, "you and I are, I think, differ 
 ent from most persons who meet for discus 
 sion. We are al>out to approach the matter in 
 a proper spirit, not like so many others who 
 wage a war of words for the mere sake of a 
 victory. We meet here for the more noble 
 purporii; of endeavoring to ascertain what is 
 truth. Could I believe that you were deter 
 mined to resist conviction and stick to cherish 
 
 ed dogmas, whether right or wrong, I would 
 not sit here a moment longer. We know that 
 the pursuit of truth is attended with much, 
 difficulty, and that the sincere inquirer is often 
 denounced as the enemy of his race. History 
 has abundant proof that the high priests, and 
 those in high station whom they could in 
 fluence, have been ever ready to defame and 
 persecute those who have refused to bow down 
 and worship a popular error ; or who have 
 dared to brush away the antiquated excrescen 
 ces which have impeded human progress. It 
 has been truly said that 'reformers, in all ages, 
 whatever their object, have been unpitied mar 
 tyrs, and the multitude have evinced a savage 
 exultation in their sacrifice. Let in light upon 
 a nest of young owls, and they will cry OUT 
 against the injury you have done them. Men 
 of mediocrity are young owls ; and when you 
 present them with strong, brilliant ideas, they 
 exclaim against them as false, dangerous, and 
 deserving punishment ; ' * and another writerf 
 says, ' An original thinker, a reformer in moral 
 science, ill thus often appear a hard and insen 
 sible character. He goes beyond the feelings 
 and associations of the age ; lie leaves them be 
 hind him ; he shocks onr old prejudices ; it is 
 reserved for a subsequent generation, to whom 
 his views have been unfolded from infancy, 
 and in whose minds all the interesting associa 
 tions have collected round them, which for 
 merly encircled the exploded opinions, to regard 
 his discoveries with unmingled pleasure.' No 
 man should be afraid of doubt ; it has been 
 called the ' beginning of philosophy,' and ' the 
 accusing attorney in the court of truth.' No 
 true man should hesitate to grapple with false 
 hood ; for from the midst of the dust and con 
 fusion of the struggle, truth is sure to as 
 cend more brilliant and triumphant. Any 
 system, theory, or principle, no matter how 
 antiquated or popular, that dreads or forbids 
 investigation, bears witness to its own fraud, 
 and is already stamped with its own condem 
 nation. Grote says, ' To ask for nothing but 
 results, to decline the labor of verification, to 
 be satisfied with a stock of ready-made argu 
 ments as proof, and to decry the doubter or 
 negative reasoner who starts new difficulties, 
 as a common enemy this is a proceeding suf 
 ficiently common in ancient as well as in 
 modern times. But it is nevertheless an abne 
 gation of the dignity and even of the functions 
 of speculative philosophy.' We have thou 
 sand* around us at the present day ho dread 
 this ' labor of verification ' mental drones, 
 who swallow a creed aa they would a pill ; who 
 are far behind the age, and who strut about 
 like resuscitated mummies bearing their worm- 
 eaten coffins on their backs as fancied emblems 
 of distinction : and who are ever ready to erect 
 a warning pillar of hieroglyphics in the way 
 of every scientific, social, or moral improve 
 ment. These are they who, with haughty as 
 sumption, denounce the living, thinking men 
 of the present day, who spurn tlieir rotten 
 bandages, and refuse to have their free limbs 
 swathed in the musty conservatism of an an 
 cient puerility. But the noble, liberal mindi 
 of all ages have been the unflinching advo- 
 
 * Adventures of a Younger Son. t S. Bailey.
 
 68 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 cates of free inquiry, even should the inves 
 tigation lead to the abandonment of ideas long 
 and tenderly cherished. Locke says, ' Those 
 who have not thoroughly examined to the 
 bottom their own tenets must confess they are 
 unfit to prescribe to others, and are unrea 
 sonable in imposing that as truth on other 
 men's belief which they themselves have not 
 searched into, nor weighed the arguments of 
 probability on which they should receive or 
 reject it." 'A mistake is not the less so, and 
 will never grow into a truth, because we have 
 believed it lor a long time, though perhaps it be 
 the harder to part with ; and an error is not the 
 less dangerous, nor the less contrary to truth 
 because it is cried up and had in veneration 
 by any party.' 
 
 " Investigation should be commenced and 
 continued without any dread as to its results ; 
 a proposition which requires tender handling 
 is possessed of some inherent rottenness. 
 Harriet Martineau observes that ' No in 
 quirer can fix a direct and clear-sighted gaze 
 toward truth who is casting side glances all 
 the while on the prospects of his soul.' 
 
 " When Galileo asserted the truth of the 
 Copernican system, he was scoffed at and 
 persecuted by the flaunting arrogance of old 
 ideas ; and when he offered to give some of 
 the wise ones of his day actual, positive proofs 
 of the truth of his recent discoveries, he was 
 not only denounced as a heretic, but actually 
 imprisoned, for presuming to think beyond 
 others. The ecclesiastical mummies of that 
 period, like those of the present, declined the 
 labor of verification, preferring to hug an 
 antiquated error rather than permit the radi 
 ance of truth to expose their ignorance. Writ 
 ing to his friend Kepler on this subject, he 
 good-humoredly said : 
 
 " ' my dear Kepler! how I wish we could 
 have a hearty laugh together. Here at Padua 
 is the principal professor of philosophy, whom 
 I have repeatedly and urgently requested to 
 look at the moon and planets through my 
 glass, which he pertinaciously refuses to do. 
 Why are you not here ? What shouts of 
 laughter we should have at this glorious 
 folly.'* 
 
 " This is a fair illustration of blind, obstinate 
 prejudice ; and that such prejudice still exists 
 is glaringly manifest on every side. We have 
 now a multitude of persons loud in their 
 laudations of truth. Yet if you dare to doubt 
 their idea of that principle ; if you venture in 
 all humility to hint the possibility of their 
 being in error ; if you should benevolently 
 
 * Luther, the hero of the Reformation, in the full 
 ness of his priestly presumption, was as ready to 
 rail at the discoveries of Bcieutiflc men as were some 
 of his late confreres of the Romish Church. In con 
 demnation of the Copernican system of astronomy, he 
 thus commits himself: 
 
 "I am now advised that -a new astrologer is risen, 
 who presumeth to prove that the earth moveth and 
 goeth about, no_t the firmament ; the sun and moon, 
 not the stars like as when one sitteth in a coach, or 
 in a ship that is moved, thinketh he sitteth still and 
 resteth. but the earth and trees do move and run 
 themselves. Thus it goeth ; we give up ourselves to 
 our own foolish fancies and conceits. This fool (Co 
 pernicus) will turn the whole art of astronomy upside 
 down ; but the Scripture showeth and teacheth ano 
 ther lesson, when Joshua commandeth the sun to 
 etaud still, and not the earth," 
 
 cast the most simple lamplight across theil 
 path, in order to reveal, even to the least et 
 tent, the mud and mire through which they 
 proudly and resolutely plunge eager to fol 
 low in the slushy track of venerated pre 
 decessors then you are an innovator, a dis 
 turber, an infidel, and a wretch. 
 
 " Daily experience goes to prove that such is 
 the treatment which many of our most emi 
 nent benefactors have received from monopo 
 lizing blind guides, who persistently obtrude 
 themselves as teachers of truth, and who as 
 persistently stand in the way of progress. 
 Even scientific Christian men have had to 
 acknowledge that such is the case. Agassiz 
 says, ' There are few of the great truths now 
 recognized which have not been treated as 
 chimerical and blasphemous before they were 
 demonstrated.' Yet, after all this, the ana 
 thema is hurled at reform, and where priests 
 can not persecute with the rack, as of old, they 
 resort to social degradation." 
 
 " You can not deny," said Mr. Capel, "that 
 many of our greatest reformers were sincere 
 Christians. Newton, and Bacon, and others 
 whom I might mention, gave eminent proofs 
 of their ability and desire to enlighten man 
 kind ; they were not afraid of advanced opin 
 ions." 
 
 " They were not ; but Lord Bacon's ortho 
 doxy was, however, very questionable, and 
 he was looked upon by many with distrust. 
 Newton's great discovery of gravitation, and 
 other discoveries of his, were strongly op 
 posed, and were not fully understood by learn 
 ed Christian men for more than fifty years 
 after their announcement. These cases, how 
 ever, do not affect the general correctness of 
 what I have stated in relation to men who 
 have departed from the beaten track of old 
 opinions. We know that free inquiry has 
 been proscribed from time to time, and we 
 still see the necessity for perseverance. No 
 matter how some may rage, or how base may 
 be their detraction, let him who is on the side 
 of truth be fearless, and he is sure to triumph. 
 My object, so far, is to show the necessity for 
 investigation ; and before I quit this prelimin 
 ary, I will read you an extract bearing on the 
 subject. 
 
 " Samuel Bailey, in \\\s Essay on the Pur suit 
 of Truth, says : ' The great interests of the 
 human race, then, demand that the way of dis 
 covery should be open, that there should be 
 no obstruction to inquiry, that every possible 
 facility and encouragement should be afforded 
 to efforts addressed to the detection of error 
 and to the attainment of truth ; nay, that 
 every human being, as far as he is capable, 
 should actively assist in the pursuit ; and yet 
 one of its greatest discouragements at present 
 existing among mankind is the state of their 
 own moral sentiments. Although he who 
 has achieved the discovery of a truth in a 
 matter of importance, or rescued an admitted 
 truth from insignificance and neglect, may 
 justly indulge the reflection that he has con 
 ferred a benefit on his fellow-men, to which 
 even time itself can prescribe no limits, he 
 will do well to prepare for the odium and 
 persecution with which the benefit will be 
 resisted, and console himself with a prospeo
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 59 
 
 tire reliance on the gratitude and sympathy 
 of a future age. It is impossible to deny the 
 fact, that in some of the most important 
 departments of knowledge, the bulk of man 
 kind regard novelties of doctrine a descrip 
 tion under which all detections of error and 
 acquisitions of truth must come as acts of 
 moral turpitude or reprehensible arrogance, 
 v.-hich they are ready to resent on the head of 
 t ae promulgator.' " 
 
 "I regret," said Mr. Capel, "to be obliged 
 1 1 admit the full force of what you have j ust 
 rmd. From my own limited experience, too 
 i jany of our Christian teachers are ready to 
 (eery doubt and forbid inquiry. I fear no 
 investigation ; let truth and falsehood grap 
 ple, lam willing to submit Christianity to 
 i s severest test. I have had my doubts on 
 i lany points, and some of the most thought- 
 i al are troubled this way. I have been told 
 iliat doubts were but temptations ; they may 
 1"*, but they generally tempt me to seek for 
 i 11 explanation. I have often said that there 
 ; re many things in the Scriptures hard to be 
 understood ; but on the whole, I still accept 
 th^m, as containing more truth than I can 
 ind anywhere else. I have full reliance on 
 1 heir authenticity, and do not fear to hear all 
 i hat can be said against what the Christian 
 vorld has accepted as Divine Revelation." 
 
 " Tliis, then, is an honest conclusion," replied 
 TIr. Mannors. "If men are hereafter to be 
 punished for the rejection of that revelation, 
 the subject becomes more momentous, and they 
 f-hould endeavor by all means to ascertain 
 whether the Bible contains that pure truth 
 which is claimed for it. No just Being can be 
 cffendei if we submit the Scriptures to such 
 lair tests as reason and common sense may 
 f-uggest. 
 
 " Now, to proceed, we find that the earliest 
 racords concerning the human family lead ua 
 to believe that men in almost every age and 
 dime have inclined to some f >rm of religion, 
 und have worshiped some particular idol or 
 divinity, or a number of such, peculiar to 
 their own race or nation. 
 
 " There are, it is said, a few very degraded 
 tribes who have no conception of supernatural 
 beings, and who do not, therefore, practice any 
 form of worship; but, as a general fact, it 
 may be accepted that religion has been a 
 prevailing idea amongst mankind. 
 
 " It is not necessary to our purpose to try and 
 trace the origin of the religious idea ; it is 
 merely sufficient to state, that the most ancient 
 religious ceremonies ara said to have been first 
 practiced in Egypt ; and from thence the whole 
 world has become indoctrinated with forms 
 and ceremonies almost innumerable. 
 
 " Religion has been always surrounded with 
 mysteries ; and, for the purpose of disseminat 
 ing its principles, the order of priests was in 
 stituted.* They have generally assumed to 
 
 * The author of the Celtic Drulrli, a learned work 
 published in London, says : " Of all the evils that es 
 caped from Pandora's ho x. the institution of priesthoods 
 w;is the worst. Priests have been the curse of tho 
 world. And if we admit the merits of m:iny of those 
 of our own time to he as preeminent above all others 
 if the esprit de corps of the most self-contented in 
 dividual of the order may Incite him to consider them, 
 great as I am willing to allow the merits of individuals 
 
 have been possessed of superior information, 
 and to be able to regulate the intercourse be 
 tween man and his Deity. Religious teachers, aa 
 a class, are mostly men who h \veever been sup 
 ported in luxury and power, and whose interest 
 it is to persuade others that they alone are ca 
 pable of giving or imparting religious informa 
 tion. An able writer* on this subject says : 
 ' There were such bodies of professional priests 
 in ancient Egypt, in Babylon, in Persia, in Gaul, 
 in Phoenicia, in Judi^a, in Etruria, and in Greece. 
 There are such priosts now in Japan, in Hin- 
 dostan, in Thibet, in Arabia, in Russia, in 
 France, in England, an i in Utah, and among 
 many other civilized and barbarous nations. 
 The several classes of priests of no two of the 
 lands specially mentioned taught or teach the 
 same creed. There have been at least two 
 hundred different religious creeds taught, and 
 extensively received among men, different 
 from, and Inconsistent with each other.' And 
 he further says : ' History tells us that,. in an 
 cient times, the people were very ignorant and 
 superstitious, and easily imposed upon, and the 
 priests were numerous, and so influential that 
 they could induce the people to believe or do 
 almost any thing. It was the common belief 
 among the political rulers, that government 
 could not be firmly established, or morality 
 preserved without the aid of superstition, the 
 terror of the gods, and an implicit faith that 
 the laws were of divine origin ; and this belief 
 frequently governed their action. Numa,Lycur- 
 gus, Zaleucus, Pythagoras, and scores of other 
 lawgivers asserted that their codes were com 
 municated to them by the gods. Diodorus Sicu- 
 lus tells us that the purpose of these claims to 
 divine origin for human laws was to insure the 
 supremacy and permanence of constitutions 
 which would have been much less secure with 
 out the mighty protection of superstition. 
 The laws of Egypt, Hindostan, Persia, and 
 Babylon were all ostensibly dictated or writ 
 ten word for word in heaven.' 
 
 " It is a singular fact that the priests and 
 propagators of almost every religion claim for 
 their own particular belief a divine revelation. 
 The Egyptians asserted that their mysterious 
 rites had this authority. And, at the present 
 day.so do the Brahmins, and the Buddhists, and 
 the Jews, and the Christians, and the Moham 
 medans, and the Mormons this is the latest 
 revelation, one of our own times and all who 
 can boast of a written creed claim that their 
 books are inspired, which to doubt would be 
 to imperil salvation. 
 
 "Creeds, then, have been established, and hu 
 man beings are found in every country pro 
 fessing some particular form of faith, and cer 
 tain parts of the earth are almost entirely gov 
 erned and influenced by peculiar religious prin- 
 
 to be, I will not allow that they form exceptions strong 
 enough to destroy the general nature of the rule. 
 Look at China ; at the festival of Juggernaut ; the 
 Crusades ; the massacres of St. Bartholomew : of the 
 Mexicans and the Peruvians ; the fires of the Inquisi 
 tion ; of Mary, Cranmer, Calvin, and of the Druids ! 
 Look at Ireland ; look at Spain ; in short, look every 
 where, and every where you will see the priests reeking 
 with gore. They have converted populous and happy 
 nations Into deserts ; and have transformed our beau- 
 tlful world iuto a sla?hter-house, dreuched with blood 
 and tears." 
 * Hittel.
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 ciples. Let a man but name his religion, and 
 you can tell whether he is an Asiatic or an 
 European ; let him name his country, and you 
 can almost tell to a certainty to what subdivi 
 sion of faith he belongs. Certain zones favor 
 the production of a certain fruit ; and par 
 ticular parts of the earth have each a par 
 ticular creed. In one quarter of the world, the 
 worship of Brahma or Buddha may prevail ; 
 in another, tliat of Confucius or Christ ; in 
 another, that of Mormon or Mohamned. The 
 fact is, most men get their creeds in their 
 cradles ; by early inculcation, men are to be 
 found in the degrading worship of idols and 
 animals, of mountains and rivers, of sunlight 
 and of darkness, and of imaginary deities, 
 benevolent or otherwise, corresponding with 
 tiie moral perceptions of their worshipers. 
 The God of one nation may be kind and bene 
 volent, while the God of another may be de 
 picted as influenced by ungovernable pas 
 sions fierce, exacting, capricious, and revenge 
 ful. To use the words of Schiller, ' Man 
 pants himself in his gods.' 
 
 "Hereafter, then, we shall consider what 
 the influence of religion has beun to mankind, 
 but for ihe present, I shall merely state that 
 human beings, in almost every part of the 
 habitable globe, have submitted to its control. 
 According to an estimate made in the year 
 1S44, the number of followers of the principal 
 creeds were : Buddhists, 380,000,000 ; Chris 
 tians, 230,000,000 ; Mohammedans, 160,000,- 
 000; Brahmins, 150,000,000; Pagans, 70,000,- 
 000 ; Jews, 10,000,000 ; in all, 1,000,000,000. 
 
 " The creed or belief with which we have 
 now to do," continued Mr. Manners, " is the 
 creed of Christendom, known as Christianity. 
 The adherents of this faith tell us that their 
 religion is derived from a lx>ok called the 
 ' Bible,' and that this book is a divine revela 
 tion, written many centuries ago, by inspired 
 men, and contains in itself the essence of di 
 vine truth. 
 
 " It therefore appears that what the Shatter 
 is to the Brahmin, or the Koran to the Mo 
 hammedan, the Bible is to the Christian. 
 Now, if the Bible is truly a revelation from 
 God, for the instruction, edification, and re 
 formation of man, there can be no possible 
 impropriety in a critical examination of its 
 contents. This was the view taken by many 
 eminent men, who from the earliest times 
 century alter century had submitted the 
 scriptural books to a careful investigation ; 
 and notwithstanding the claims to inspiration 
 made for the Bible by its theologians, it has 
 been rejected time after time by many learned 
 men and distinguished writers who were co- 
 temporary with the supposed scribes both of 
 the Old and the New Testaments. 
 
 " Without going back to ancient ages for 
 authorities in support of this assertion, we 
 find in modern times, and more particularly 
 In our own day, a widespread and increas 
 ing opposition to the pretensions of Christian 
 ity. That opposition has not arisen from the 
 ignorant, uneducated masses, but from several 
 of the most intellectual, scientific, and distin 
 guished men, who, with a vast number of 
 other thinkers, also brought up in the Chris 
 tian faith, now boldly, and with no small share 
 
 of moral courage, reject its doctrines as spur! 
 ous, and as degrading and inconsistent in rela 
 tion to the attributes and perfections of an all- 
 wise benevolent Being. Not only have dis 
 tinguished laymen repudiated the Scriptures, 
 but actual priests of the altar, like the late 
 Rev. Robert Taylor of the Church of England, 
 have nobly resigned a living of ease and 
 luxury, and have left a sanctuary where they 
 could worship no longer, perhaps to enter a 
 prison as alleged blasphemers. But from 
 within the Avails of Oakliam jail, and from 
 the able pen of the same Robert Taylor, came 
 forth in due time the Diegesis and Syntagma, 
 works which have caused hundreds to inves 
 tigate more closely the presumptuous tenets 
 of his reverend persecutors. 
 
 " Since the Reformation, when men could 
 dare to speak and act more freely, unanswer 
 able arguments have been published against 
 the validity of the so-called sacred writings of 
 Christianity. But instead of a fair reply having 
 been granted, or a fair open discussion tole 
 rated by the trained and paid religious teach 
 ers, misrepresentations have been printed, de 
 famation has been used, penalties have been 
 inflicted, and books containing calm, reason 
 able argument against the Christian Bible 
 not written under the idiotic afflatus of in 
 spirationhave been systematically proscribed, 
 to such an extent that not one bookseller out of 
 fil'ty will venture to offer them for sale. Few 
 indeed, dare to oppose Christian prohibition 
 Protestant toleration in this respect is strange 
 ly suspicious ; and its boasted liberality sin 
 gularly spurious and deceptive." 
 
 " To some extent, I acknowledge that such 
 has been the case," said Mr. Capel. " I have 
 often regretted that works published against 
 Christianity were not allowed the privilege 
 of as free circulation as the excellent books of 
 Paley, Butler, Gregory, and many others, 
 written in defense of the Bible. As far as I 
 can learn, such writings are fully able to 
 counteract any publications against the Holy 
 Scriptures ; candid investigation ought to 
 make truth more apparent." 
 
 " Then," continued Mr. Mannors, " why 
 do priests assert so confidently that the writ 
 ings and arguments of unbelievers are but 
 trivial and worthless, yet take such wonderful 
 pains to prevent their coming under the 
 notice of pious eyes? I will now ask you in 
 all fairness, have you ever read any of the 
 works written against the pretensions of the 
 Bible? Have you ever read the Age of Rea 
 son, Greg's Creed of Christendom, Hittel's Evi 
 dence*, the Diegexi*, or any of the able works 
 of De Wette, Strauss, Hume, Rev. Robert 
 Taylor, Kne 'land, and others? You have no 
 doubt read several, if not all of the books in 
 favor of Christianity ; now have you read any 
 against that system ?" 
 
 " I have not ; in fact, I have never seen one 
 of the books you mention." 
 
 " Then you can have no correct idea of the 
 objections which have been urged by distin 
 guished persons against your faith. You 
 have had merely the pulpit, or tract, or ortho 
 dox burlesque, or misrepresentation of the 
 statements made by prominent unbelievers." 
 
 " Perhaps so ; yet I scarcely think that re-
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 61 
 
 ligioua persons would misrepresent to the 
 extent you imagine." 
 
 As it would be impossible for us in a 
 limited, discussion t, o do more than give a 
 partial investigation will yo.u read any of the 
 denounced books, if I procure them for youV" 
 said Mr. Mannors. 
 
 " Most certainly ; I will readily do so. I 
 have no fears in that respect." 
 
 " I am glad to hear this ; I will not frighten 
 you at first," said Mr. Mannors humorously, 
 with either Paine or Voltaire, or any other 
 uicli terrible name. I will give you a small 
 work, as a commencement, which can not be 
 surpassed for tbe fair, plain, unpretending 
 manner in which it deals with the Bible." 
 Here he opened a book-case, and handed Mr. 
 v'apel a small volume entitled. Greg's Creed 
 >f Christendom. " You will," continued he, 
 ' be pleased with the style in which it is writ 
 ten ; and afterward, if you desire, I will give 
 you other books which go more thoroughly 
 -.nto the subject. And now, in return, if there 
 are any -books in favor of Christianity which 
 you would wish me to read, I shall do so, and 
 by such means be better able to come to a 
 more thorough conclusion." 
 
 " This is very fair," said Mr. Capel ; " there 
 ?an be no objection to such a course. I have 
 jne book which I will then ask you to look 
 over that is, Gregory's Incidences." 
 
 "Agreed; I have already perused Paley 
 and several others, it may be that Gregory 
 will offer something new. You see, however, 
 that neither Christianity, nor any other system 
 :an force belief by denouncing free inquiry ; 
 Cor, atthe present day, no prudent or intelligent 
 man will scoff at the arguments of unbelief, 
 :>r look with contempt upon the religious 
 opinions of Hume, Gibbon, Shelley, Paine, 
 Fronde, Bentham, Carlyle, Jefferson, Greg, 
 Parker, Volney, Voltaire, Rousseau, Buffon, 
 Comte, Spinoza, De VVette, Taylor, Colenso, 
 and a host of such others. Nearly all of the 
 persons I have named have written against 
 the received Divine Inspiration of the Bfble; 
 and it is poor evidence of justice to pronounce 
 an unlimited condemnation against their de 
 li berate >pinions, or even against the opinions 
 of the multitude of cautious doubters, who 
 for want of moral courage still remain nomi 
 nal Christians. 
 
 " We will leave the subject for the present ; 
 one day's calm perusal of the books we have 
 chosou may be better than a week of discus 
 sion. We shall compare notes from time to 
 time, and see what advance we shall have 
 made toward the great luminary, truth, which 
 we both desire to worship." 
 
 During this his first conference with Mr. 
 Mannors, the young preacher felt more in 
 clined to listen than to speak ; having never 
 before had an opportunity of discussion with 
 an unbeliever, he wished to elicit the leading 
 views of such an opponent. He was surprised 
 at the fairness and candor of Mr. Mannors ; 
 and when they left the room together, to take 
 a walk along the pleasant highway, the 
 prayer of Mr. Capei's heart was for light 
 more light. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 SHORTLY after the stormy Bible meeting 
 which had taken place in the Baptist Church, 
 the leading members of the congregation f 
 St. Andrew's who were then present, and who 
 had been obliged to witness the rudeness and 
 discourtesy wnich had been manifested to Dr. 
 Buster on that occasion, felt that some demon 
 stration in his behalf was necessary, in order to 
 give a quiet rebuke to those who had en 
 deavored to lessen that esteemed minister in 
 public estimation ; as well as to satisfy that 
 devoted Christian that the rude trial to which 
 his faith and patience had been subjected only 
 served to endear him etill more and more to 
 his own people ; and to prove to the world 
 that he was superior to the low motives of 
 cunning and jealousy which had evidently 
 actuated the vulgar, uneducated aspirants of 
 other denominations. 
 
 A committee of ladies was soon formed, and 
 after various preliminary meetings and delibe 
 rations, it was decided that, as a corresponding 
 addition to the fascinating eye-glass witii 
 which he had been previously presented, a 
 superb gold-headed cane should now be 
 furnished the doctor. It would be a small but 
 significant token, or rather emblem, or the 
 staff he was to them, as well as to assure him 
 that he would find his numerous friends united 
 like a pillar of strength in the day of trouble. 
 
 In fact. Dr. Buster had in many instances 
 received valuable testimonials of such attach 
 ment. He was a gifted individual, a moral 
 hero, a stickler for the pure Calvinistic doctrine, 
 who had won the esteem of ministers over 
 whom he presided, and through them, as well 
 as by other influences, he was exalted in the 
 eyes of the people ; so much so, that many 
 particularly the female members of the church, 
 never seemed tired of lavishing favors and 
 distinctions upon him, all of which the 
 worthy man received with due and humble 
 acknowledgment. Indeed, so often and so re 
 freshing had these evidences been, that the 
 pious doctor more than once feelingly stated, 
 that he was quite overcome by those unex 
 pected and undeserved proofs of spiritual af 
 fection. He would then reiterate his entire 
 un worthiness, and his utter inability to do 
 any thing of himself; he would piously tell 
 them that his sole reliance was upon God, in 
 whose mighty hand he was but a very weak 
 and unworthy instrument. 
 
 He might have thought so ; the gifts ho*- 
 ever were not declined, but were gratefully 
 accepted, not of course for their intrinsic value, 
 but as mere remembrances of how much his 
 weak efforts had been overrated. They would 
 be incentives to fresh zeal in the cause oi 
 orthodox principles, and would make him 
 more anxious to advance the interests of the 
 true Calvinistic church. He could look around, 
 and see many of these presentations, but, 
 strange to say, he did not seem to value 
 them. There was more than one richly bound 
 Bible ; there were gilt-edged volumes from 
 the Fathers, and valuable works by various 
 religious authors ; and comprehensive and 
 learned commentaries, sufficient to enable him 
 to give some meaning to doubtful pussageb
 
 62 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 and miscellaneous gift-books piled up in such alienate their affections from the things of this 
 
 profusion that the worthy man had scarcely 
 more time to spare from his various duties 
 than merely to read the presentation page, 
 
 world, and to devote themselves more freely 
 to the work of their Heavenly Master. 
 
 In connection with this subject the reverend 
 
 where his own name was proudly con- , doctor reiterated his disinterested opinion 
 spicuous. Then there were scriptural subjects regarding the bestowal of costly gifts upon 
 on canvass, in rich, heavy frames ; there was the servants of the Lord. " Of what value," 
 his massive gold watch, to remind him of I he asked, " were such things to those who ha'd 
 fleeting time, besides little articles of virtu \ renounced the world and its vanities '? How 
 and chaste specimens of bijouterie, from pious, much better it would be were the minister 
 individual, female friends ; but above all, there forgotten, and the humble poor held in greater 
 was the splendid service of plate, presented to remembrance." He felt it his duty to state 
 him but a few months before he had been for- that, agreeable as it must, be to any" person to 
 saken by her who should have been his help- ' receive such tokens of esteem, it would be to 
 mate ; on the principal piece of which his him much more so, were the money which 
 name and worth had been inscribed, surround- j was lavished he used this word emphatical- 
 
 ed by a halo of flourish and ornamentation. 
 This rich service was now, alas ! useless ; it 
 was laid aside. Was not his home desolate 
 enough ? The glare of the rich m^tal might 
 only serve to remind him, the afflicted pastor, 
 of the vanities of life, and of what he was 
 called upon to suffer in the cause of the Gos 
 pel. 
 
 On this particular evening, however, the 
 
 ly to obtain costly articles, placed in his 
 hands for charitable purposes, lie did not 
 care for these things. How grateful it would 
 be to him were he enabled by such means to 
 relieve, to a greater extent, the sufferings of 
 the uncomplaining poor which his daily visita 
 tions had led him to discover sufferings with 
 which he deeply sympathized, but which, 
 alas ! too often pained him to the very heart 
 
 Rev. Theophilus Buster was very happy ; at to be unable to mitigate." 
 
 least, those who met him at the house of the Such expressions from the reverend doctor 
 
 Rev. Mr. Campbell thought so. Since he had 
 been so unexpectedly deserted by his wife, Dr. 
 Buster never asked any person to his house. 
 It was now to him like a prison ; for appearance' 
 sake he merely lodged in it, and he took his 
 meals here and there, as most convenient, not 
 having yet decided on any particular place. 
 He could not let the gloom which surrounded 
 his late home affect his children ; he had them 
 removed from its dreary influence, and proper 
 ly cared for in another quarter. He could not 
 bear to hear them ask for the mother who had 
 abandoned them; or even to mention her 
 name. 
 
 These were depressing circumstances ; but 
 
 under the circumstances, could not fail to win 
 for him a still greater degree of considera 
 tion. Such abnegation was a rare virtue ; it 
 was a triumphant refutation of the malicious 
 slanders that had been heaped upon this ex 
 emplary man. And so great was his influence 
 at that moment, so great was their generous 
 impulse toward him, that a single hint would 
 have sufficed to urge every lady present to fling 
 around his neck her rich gold chain and 
 jeweled locket, as an offering to his worth 
 and self-denial, and as a sacrifice on the altar 
 of charity. 
 
 A few hours had thus been spent, and all pre 
 sent were highly pleased and edified. It was 
 
 when the reverend doctor was asked to meet getting late, and as Dr. Buster was as metho- 
 any friends at Mr. Campbell's, he endeavored to j dical in his habits a he was punctual in hia 
 join them with a smiling face, like an upright engagements, he signified this to his friends. 
 
 Christian. He did not desire to obtrude his 
 sorrows upon others, and he generally succeed 
 ed in making his visits very agreeable ; and 
 in making many particularly pious ladies 
 believe that his light affliction only served to 
 make his discourse more heavenly. 
 
 As usual, when the doctor was in the case, 
 a very numerous and select party had as 
 sembled at the Rev. Mr. Campbell's, and after 
 a most sumptuous repast, the presentation of 
 the gold-headed cane was made by one of 
 the most affluent and influential ladies of 
 the congregation of St. Andrew's ; and the 
 pretty speech which she read on the occasion, 
 referring to the great services of the reverend 
 moderator, and of his still greater trials 
 delicately alluding to the peculiar domestic 
 
 affliction under which he at present labored 
 was rapturously applauded. 
 
 His dwelling was several streets distant from 
 Mr. Campbell's, and as he had an appoint 
 ment with a friend on his way home, he 
 refused to allow any person to accompany 
 him. At his request, the Rev. Mr. Campbell 
 offered up a parting prayer, and, at the con 
 clusion, the moderator never looked more in 
 spired than he did, when with closed eyes and 
 upraised hands he devoutly gave the usual 
 benediction. And when he went away, it 
 seemed to many as if some pure spirit had 
 departed, and for some time afterward the 
 theme of those who remained related to hia 
 piety, his virtue, and his sufferings. 
 
 The night was dark when the doctor left 
 the house, and when he got a short distance 
 beyond the light that was flung out from the 
 
 windows of Mr. Campbell's residence, he hur 
 ried on. It had just then commenced to rain, 
 
 In responding to this fresh evidence of their not in a dripping shower, but it came in pat- 
 regard, the learned doctor, as usual, disclaim- j tering drops like the regular precursors of 
 ed any merit in himself. He was duly sensible j a down-pouring. The doctor increased his 
 of his own unworthiuess, and he was almost steps, and walked faster and faster. He wore 
 
 unmanned by the gentle words spoken in 
 reference to his forlorn condition. No doubt 
 these trials havu iheir good effects ; they en 
 able the ministers of God the more fully to 
 
 a heavy cloak, and kept his face well muffled ; 
 he went along at a quick rate, and now com 
 menced to mutter to himself; and, in a little 
 time, the words became almost distinct and
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 63 
 
 audible. He walked on in tins manner for 
 some minutes ; it was now raining heavily, 
 and he suddenly turned into an arched pas 
 sage through which a street lamp, directly in 
 front, sent sufficient light to make objects 
 dimly visible. Here the doctor stopped ; he 
 still muttered, and then he drew the hand 
 some cane from under his cloak, and held it 
 
 it at arm's length before him. But stay, 
 L ark ! What were the words he now uttered, 
 B ifficiently loud, sharp, and distinct, to be 
 plainly heard ? This person surely could not 
 b ; the reverend moderator : these foul, passion- 
 a e words could not certainly have proceeded 
 from his lips. 
 
 He still held out the cane, and its polished 
 fOOothnesB, and massive gold carving flashed 
 in the lamplight ; he looked at it as if every 
 moment he expected to see it become some 
 e lining reptile, or that he intended to fling it 
 c )ntemptuously against the rough wall, and 
 break it to pieces. 
 
 " I say again, blast their stupidity ! I have 
 t >ld them time after time that I did not care 
 for their baubles; and the miserable dolts 
 liil to perceive that I ever want money. Here 
 
 1 t this thing fit only for a Regent street 
 dandy put into my hand instead of gold! 
 It' I were to be exhibited like a wax figure at 
 Madame Tussaud's. this pretty piece of foppery 
 i light help to set me off; but, my God ! just 
 t ) think of the fools spending tlie money I 
 vant so badly for the like of this twenty 
 p uineas ! My heavens, how provoking 1" 
 
 He had now balanced the stick on his open 
 liand, and as he said these words he gave it a 
 einart toss in the air, and caught it in its 
 descent as he would a penny piece. 
 
 "Well, may confusion seize them! here's 
 that cursed note for over a hundred pounds to 
 be met in less than a week, and these finical 
 
 " Well, I'm blowed if that is'nt old Buster," 
 said Robert. " I've seen him before, and I've 
 heerd about him, the precious hypocrite. He 
 beant about for nothing ; he wants gold, does 
 he ? I'll lay that chap is up to summat. I say, 
 Sam, I'd just like to find out what that fellow 
 is about ; let's after him a bit, he's going our 
 way." 
 
 " All right go ahead, steamboat there 
 an't no time to talk, that ere man is streak 
 ing it right through. I want to turn Jew, and 
 get that pretty stick o' his'n ; but stop, 
 what's this ?" and he stooped and picked up a 
 folded paper from near the spot where Doctor 
 Buster had been standing, and taking it to the 
 light, read " A. M. North street, near Jewish 
 cemetery " " This is something o' his'n," said 
 he, handing Robert the paper; "just put that 
 away, it might come a kind o' handy after a 
 while." 
 
 Robert put the paper in his breast pocket, 
 and off they started. As they hurried along, 
 he gave his friend a little of what he knew of 
 the history of the reverend doctor, to whom they 
 were now paying such attention ; he was still 
 well ahead of them, and had he turned either 
 to the right or left, he might have escaped 
 their curiosity altogether. 
 
 Robert's friend, whom he called Sam, was a 
 slightly built, wiry-looking young man ; he 
 was a true Yankee, fond of adventure, was de 
 lighted with this little chase, and lik'e his 
 enterprising countrymen, he was determined 
 to find the bottom of the well, and strike He 
 before he gave up. 
 
 They were gaining fast upon the doctor ; he 
 oukl now hear their steps, and he turned round 
 once or twice, which caused them to come to 
 a dead halt, lest he should become suspicious. 
 He went on again, and turning down a lane to 
 his left disappeared ; and when they got to 
 
 jades throw almost as much away for this as ; the corner, and looked down the dark, narrow 
 would have enabled me to get a renewal, street, the doctor was nowhere to be seen. 
 
 Well, well, it is hard to appear content before 
 them ; I have a mind to sell this precious bit of 
 trumpery to the first Jew I meet, if I should 
 only get a third of its value." 
 
 He paused a moment, and then muttered 
 again; the rain was falling fast: he looked 
 around, and peered into the dim passage as if 
 he feared the presence of some person. For 
 a few minutes longer he remained perfectly 
 still and thoughtful, with eyes bent steadily on 
 the ground ; lie drew a long breath, looked at 
 liia watch, and again said audibly, " Quarter 
 past ten they are waiting," and muffling his 
 face once more, he started down the dark 
 street seemingly indifferent to the" drenching 
 rain, or the starless sky. 
 
 The doctor had scarcely left where he had 
 stood when two persons stepped from a door 
 way that was at the dark end of the passage, 
 and rushed forward to look after him. One was 
 Robert, who lived at Hampstead with Mr. 
 Mannors ; the other was a stranger, an 
 American relation of his, who had been only 
 a few days in England. Robert had come 
 down to the city to meet him, and show him 
 the sights of London, and here was one an 
 unexpected scene that made Robert himself 
 stare with surprise. 
 
 " Skeered, Bob, an't you?" asked the strang 
 er humorously. 
 
 They stood irresolute for a short time. 
 Robert was for hurrying on, but his friend, 
 laying his hand on his arm quietly, said, 
 "Take it easy, Bob ; 'tan't no use crowding the 
 critter too hard ; he an't far, he's a looking 
 for gold, I reckon ; maybe he's got a little 
 Calitbrny hereabouts : guess we'll fish him 
 out presently." 
 
 The third house from the corner of the 
 street was a small tavern ; the gas lamp over 
 the door displayed the rather common sign of 
 the Swan Inn. The lights from within shone 
 brightly through the windows, giving an ex 
 hibition of glasses, and painted kegs, and 
 casks, and rows of bright pewter mugs. There 
 wre no lights to be seen in the houses close 
 by, and this led Robert to suspect that the 
 doctor had entered the tavern. There was 
 but one door in front, and they did not think 
 it best to go in for a while ; he might have 
 only taken a temporary refuge from the rain ; 
 he was not likely to be known in such a place, 
 and if he did not come out so m, they might 
 then enter and see for themselves. 
 
 It was agreed that Robert should walk a 
 little way up the street, or lane, while Sam 
 remained opposite the tavern; a small porch 
 afforded a shelter for this purpose, and before 
 Robert started, he thought it best to look 
 closely around the house. There was no ont
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 to be seen outside ; the place at best was not 
 a noted thoroughfare, and now, in the dark 
 ness and rain, it had an unusually deserted 
 appearance. He cautiously approached the 
 front window, and saw a woman mixing some 
 thing in a few tumblers. He went to the side 
 of the house ; there was a passage from the 
 street to a back yard, and near the end of 
 the building there was a side door, evidently 
 a private entrance. He stepped carefully 
 toward the first side window, a kind of red 
 screen covered the lower half; it was not 
 quite drawn across, and there was sufficient 
 space for him to see three persons in a small 
 room. They were sitting at a table, one of 
 them with his back to the window, and when 
 he spoke, Robert thought it was like the 
 voice of the man they had heard soliloquizing 
 under the archway. In a little while the 
 speaker turned his side face, and Doctor.Buster 
 was immediately recognized. Robert at once 
 signaled Sam, and they both stood outside, 
 and had a fair view of what was going on 
 within. 
 
 In front of the doctor a lady-like person 
 was sitting ; she was dressed in black ; she 
 wore a bonnet and cloak, as if prepared for a 
 journey. The other person could be plainly 
 seen ; he sat at an end of the table ; he was a 
 stout, low-sized man, well dressed ; he was 
 partly bald on the front part of his head, his 
 hair and heavy whiskers were turning gray; 
 there was an expression of cunning on his 
 face ; but altogether he looked respectable. 
 
 They were talking in a low voice, and al 
 though Robert and his friend Sam listened 
 attentively, they could not hear a word ; the 
 conversation was mostly between Doctor Bus 
 ter and the other gentleman. 
 
 The landlady now brought in a tray with 
 three tumblers holding some hot liquid ; and 
 when the door was again closed the conversa 
 tion was resumed. 
 
 The gentleman who sat at the end of the 
 table appeared very thoughtful, and stroked 
 his bushy whiskers while he leaned back in 
 his chair and looked vacantly toward the 
 ceiling. He sipped the contents of his tumbler 
 leisurely while the doctor was speaking. The 
 lady seemed to be a quiet listener ; she spoke a 
 few words once or twice. Robert watched 
 closely to try and discover who she was, but 
 a heavy dark vail hung over her face, com 
 pletely hiding her features. 
 
 In a little time Doctor Buster stood up; he 
 continued to address the gentleman who was 
 pitting; he was more excited, and soon spoke 
 sufficiently loud to permit the listeners outside 
 to hear every word. " Now," said he, " I have 
 told you all ; had I allowed her to roam about 
 at large among all kinds of people, she would 
 not only have circulated the most scandalous 
 reports against myself, but against every friend 
 I have. For over eight months, I have kept her 
 quietly confined, but this moderate restraint 
 has only made her worse. She has been well 
 treated, and I have made my house like a pri 
 son to keep her, if possible, from the poisonous 
 influence of others ; but all to no purpose. 
 I have tried to reclaim her by argument, 
 by persuasion, and by other reasonable means ; 
 she will not be convinced, but blaspheme 
 
 under my very roof! How can I stand this \ 
 If I reason with her, she not will listen ; and 
 now she demands separation, she demands her 
 children, and she demands an establishment 
 for herself, to teach them her own errors. 
 Just think ! she is bold enough to denounce 
 the Bible, to scoff at religion, and I found by 
 mere chance that she has been actually in 
 communication with a person named Manners, 
 one of the most infamous characters in or 
 about London, a wretch, who by all accounts 
 fears neither God nor man !" 
 
 As the doctor spoke, he held out both hands, 
 and regularly emphasized his words by bring 
 ing his shut fist down upon his open palm ; 
 and when he spoke of Mr. Mannors, he did so 
 with such extreme bitterness that Robert 
 groaned with suppressed indignation ; and 
 the curse which he then muttered, like an 
 angry growl, is not fit to be recorded. 
 
 " I can not," continued the doctor, " stand 
 this any longer ; she demands an establish 
 ment for herself, and," said he, lowering his 
 voice, and bending significantly toward the 
 individual he was addressing " with your as 
 sistance, I shall provide h^r one. Several pious 
 friends have told me that the woman is in 
 sane. I have tried not to believe this, but I be 
 lieve so now ; she must be made submissive, 
 if not to me, at least to the Gospel ; and the 
 most influential missionary for her case will 
 be found in an asylum. Now, Doctor Marks, 
 as a member of our church, I wish you to as 
 sist me, I want you to see this unfortunate 
 woman yourself. You will find her just 
 what I have told you, and your certificate 
 will be sufficient to place her where she 
 will be better cared for ; and," said he, 
 with a peculiar smile, " she may at last find a 
 minister that may bring her to a sense of her 
 duty. This lady," pointing to the female be 
 fore him, " is one of ourselves ; she belongs to 
 Mr. Campell's congregation, and has been a 
 matron in a private asylum. She is satisfied 
 that there are symptoms of insanity ; I have 
 asked her to meet us here, and she can inform 
 you." 
 
 " We have seldom had many worse cases/' 
 she said ; " there Is a peculiarity about this poor 
 lady that I don't know how to explain ; she is 
 no way violent, but is all for argument. Lor 
 bless you, no one could resist divine grace, and 
 say that religion is a delusion, and have a 
 sound mind. She has done this and it is not 
 long since she was a church member ; a sud 
 den change like this ought to be conclusive. 
 Doctor Marks can see for himself." 
 
 The lady pronounced these last words with 
 a kind of self sufficient air, which she seemed 
 satisfied ought to settle the business. 
 
 " I admit," said Doctor Marks, trying to look 
 very devoutly impressed, " that the sudden 
 change of which you speak, from piety to pro- 
 fanity, is often a marked symptom of mental 
 disease. Her deplorable hallucination sei-ins 
 to be, that the Bible is false ; as to her partial 
 insanity, therefore, there can scarcely be a 
 doubt ; the case, however, is rather singu 
 lar." 
 
 " Yes," said Doctor Buster, "it has been gradu 
 ally coining to this ; she first commenced to 
 rebuke me for preaching eternal punishment ;
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 66 
 
 then she insisted that there must have been 
 interpolations or wrong translations ; then she 
 disbelieved in scriptural inspiration ; and at 
 last suddenly became an open defender of the 
 Secularists. Could I submit to this ? Could 
 jxm?" 
 
 " Well," said Doctor Marks, " I see how it is. 
 If you are ready, we will go, and in a short 
 time I will try what can be done ; as it is, t 
 am inclined to think that her mind is affected." 
 
 Doctor Buster went to the door, and spoke a 
 few words to the landlady, and in a little 
 time a vehicle from the back yard was heard 
 approaching ; it was a cab ; it stopped at the 
 front door, three persons entered it, then the 
 driver at once mounted his seat and drove 
 quickly away. 
 
 " By the 'tarnal, Bob, we came upon them a 
 kind o'sleek ; let's follow that crowd, there's 
 something 1 up We can keep alongside that 
 cab o' his'n better than trying to track them 
 afterward we can go it like a streak." 
 
 Robert, however, was ahead already. On 
 they ran, without saying a word, for some time. 
 The rain had partly ceased, but heavy blasts 
 of cold wind swept along the deserted streets, 
 whisking into mist the pattering drops that fell 
 from projecting eaves, threatening rickety 
 sign-boards, and penetrating the thin wretch 
 ed covering of the homeless wanderers who 
 were then trying to find shelter. Wide and 
 narrow streets were passed ; corners were 
 turned ; and gloomy looking houses seemed 
 to be gliding farther away into the darkness. 
 The night-watch as he peered from his 
 cover might not have wondered at the 
 rattling speed of the vehicle, but he no doubt 
 felt a degree of suspicion upon seeing two 
 persons, one at each side, following it up so 
 closely, and running through street pools 
 with the most reckless indifference. 
 
 " Guess they're a going to hitch up here," 
 paid Sam, in a low, hurried voice and almost 
 out of breath, as the pace began to slacken, 
 and the horse's head was directed toward a ro\v 
 of gloomy buildings in a quarter of the city 
 that was not the best lighted or most populous. 
 Near the centre of this row there were two 
 houses, older looking, and nearly a story 
 higher than those on either side ; they had 
 a deserted appearance, and the vehicle was 
 brought to a full stop at the further house. 
 There was not a light to be seen ; the lower 
 windows were well secured by strong shut 
 ters, while dark, heavy curtains prevented the 
 least ray from being noticed in the upper part 
 of the building. Three persons ascended the 
 stone steps ; a bell was rung, the strong front 
 door was cautiously opened, and they quietly 
 entered, leaving the cab to remain as if it were 
 to be shortly required again. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 SINCE the rumored departure of Doctor Bus 
 ter's wife, very few persons had ever entered his 
 house. It was a desolate place ; in the princi 
 pal apartments, the furniture was covered, 
 the mirrors and pictures were shrouded, and 
 
 already the rich rugs and carpets were fast 
 becoming damp. Almost every thing in the 
 other rooms was bundled up and stowed away, 
 as if for an atiction sale, while the kitchen 
 fire, though not actually put out, was merely 
 kept alive ; and the savory odors that had 
 often ascended with appetizing qualities were 
 now replaced by less fragrant fumes from the 
 homely fare of the solitary care-taker of the 
 premises. 
 
 There were two apartments, however, in 
 that lonesome house that were still used ; one 
 was the doctor's library and study, situated 
 on the first floor. Though he visited this 
 place every day, it was not always to read, or 
 spend an hour in religious contemplation, but 
 often for the purpose of transacting business, 
 and to receive visits from a few ministerial 
 brethren and others, who were granted that 
 privilege. It was allowed to remain in a very 
 disorderly state ; books and papers were lying 
 about, torn scraps of writing were scattered 
 here and there, and almost every thing else 
 was totsed and misplaced in the most negli 
 gent manner ; and there were times, when, if 
 one could have entered this retreat, evidences 
 of the doctor's occasional partiality for a little 
 brandy and tobacco might be easily detected. 
 
 The other apartment was one that only the 
 doctor and one or two other persons ever 
 entered. It was a large upper room, old and 
 dilapidated, in the back part of the house ; 
 it was cold, bleak, and dimly lighted ; there 
 was but one small window at the end, through 
 which a gleam of sunlight never entered, and 
 which looked into a kind of yard ; and, al 
 though this window vras many feet from the 
 ground, yet it waa secured on the outside by 
 iron bars, which were but a comparatively re 
 cent precaution against burglars. There was 
 scarcely any thing to be seen in this room 
 save a few things requisite for its solitary oc 
 cupant. There were a small table and a little 
 wooden stool, and a wretched straw bed 
 spread out upon the floor in a corner. Close 
 by, there was a small closet, in which was 
 hung some patched and tattered articles of 
 clothing. It was a melancholy place for one 
 to spend long nights and tedious days and 
 dreary months in, brooding in loneliness and 
 sorrow, and wishing for death, like the poor 
 forlorn creature the victim of an arbitrary 
 priest the prisoner of religious tyranny who 
 was weeping away her life, recalling the sor 
 rows and joys of the past, and thinking with 
 suspicious dread upon the bleak, bleak future. 
 
 She sat upon the hard bed in the black 
 darkness of the night, listening to the rain, 
 and to the wild wind that ripped up the loose, 
 fragile roof-slates and sent them flying into 
 the street. The window shook, and the thin 
 panes trembled as the cold blast rushed 
 through some crack or crevice into the 
 wretched chamber. She sat and listened to 
 the wild commotion of the night ; and the 
 wailinar outside was in unison with her own 
 desponding thoughts. She wrung her thin 
 hands, and then placed them over her wan face 
 that was once so fair ; her scanty brown hair 
 fell around her shoulders. It had lost its rich 
 luxuriance, and, already, threads of silvery hue. 
 wrought in through its darker folds by early
 
 66 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 grief, could be traced, to correspond with the 
 lines of care that were prematurely and in 
 delibly marked upon her brow. 
 
 She rose and knelt upon the straw pallet, 
 and raised her hands imploringly ; she re 
 mained in this position for awhile, heaving 
 heavy sighs, and struggling with painful emo 
 tion, and then exclaimed, "0 God ! O God ! 
 why do I suffer thus ? What is to become of 
 my poor children ? What is to become of me ? 
 I can not exist here much longer. Am I 
 never to see them again ? O dear, dear, 
 dear, the dreary winter I have spent ! How I 
 wish my sorrow was buried forever in the cold 
 grave !" And then, ae she felt some sudden 
 pang, she pressed her hands over her flutter 
 ing heart, and said, " I wish it would break 
 it will, it will, but not till I see them again ; 
 let it not be until then. O my poor chil 
 dren !" 
 
 Once more she listened, as if waiting for 
 some friendly voice of sympathy to whisper 
 hope ; as if looking up for some kind hand to 
 lift her from out the dark, angry waves in 
 which she was struggling. The hot tears 
 chased each other fast and faster down her 
 fevered cheeks, the storm-wind still reveled 
 in the dark night, and its wild and swelling 
 wail was the only response to the poor suffer 
 er. Yet, strange to say, she paused to hear 
 the melancholy sounds more distinctly ; even 
 at that lonely hour there was something sooth 
 ing in them, something which kept her a 
 moment from thinking of her own grief. She 
 was not afraid ; those spirit-like wails show 
 ered down no heavy curses upon her defense 
 less head, like the dreadful mutterings of that 
 other voice which she too often had heard in 
 that very room. 
 
 While thus pitifully waiting waiting for 
 something for any thing for the merest 
 symptom of day-dawn to her long night of 
 trouble for the faintest ray of light, or hope, 
 to cheer away any of the dreadful gloom that 
 was around her like a thick, dark shroud, she 
 was startled by a low rap at the door. She held 
 her breath, her ears might have deceived her, 
 she heard the rap again, but louder ; there 
 was a pause, and then a voice said : 
 
 " Are you awake, madam ?" 
 
 " Yea." 
 
 " I am Mrs. Pinkley. I have a message for 
 you ; a person wishes to see you, if you will 
 please to arise and dress ; I will bring a light 
 and the key." 
 
 " I will, yes, certainly ; I will be ready in a 
 moment." 
 
 The sight of any human being, save one, 
 would now be a welcome intrusion ; neither 
 the lateness of the hour, nor the unusual time 
 for such a call, made any difference ; she 
 would see one of her own sex ; she was 
 yearning to hear a woman speak to her then, 
 no matter if even indifferent to her sufferings. 
 
 She had scarcely time to hurry on a few 
 things before she heard the woman's step, and 
 saw a light stream in through the key-hole. 
 The door was opened, and Mrs. Pinkley en 
 tered ; she had been there several times be 
 fore, and consequently was not like an entire 
 stranger. Though looked upon with suspicion, 
 and many of the ungodly and uncharitable 
 
 were of opinion that her intimacy and devoted 
 ness in connection with the pious and cir 
 cumspt-ct Doctor Buster was not exactly in 
 accordance with strict Presbyterian rule, she 
 was, however, one of the flock, a steady 
 church member, and in the eye of many of 
 the elect this was sufficient to cover a multi 
 tude of sins. 
 
 " I am sorry to disturb you," she said, 
 placing the small lamp upon the table, and 
 leisurely taking off her bonnet. " I know it 
 is rather late ; but I will assist you to dress, 
 and to put things in a little order. A gentle 
 man below wishes to speak to you. O my ! 
 don't start it is not your husband, although 
 he will be here also ; the person I mtan is his 
 friend, and " 
 
 " Alas ! may be my enemy." 
 
 " Oh ! not an enemy, by no means ; he is a 
 friend ; yes, he comes at the request of your 
 husband. I think they wish to remove you 
 from this dull place," eaid she, bowing and 
 smiling ; " the change you will find much 
 better don't you think so? Indeed," said 
 she, looking around her, "this place is not fit 
 for you not at all." 
 
 The poor woman shuddered when she 
 heard this, at least when she heard that her 
 husband was coming. He never entered but to 
 threaten and reproach ; but then, thought she, 
 he will not be alone, he will not surely curse 
 or try to terrify me before others. Still she 
 trembled ; and then suddenly, as if thinking 
 of her great wrongs, she looked up defiantly, 
 and said : 
 
 " Let him come ! he can do little more than 
 he has done already ; perhaps the sooner he 
 strikes the final blow the better." 
 
 " O my 1 madam, don't talk so ! He won't 
 injure you, no indeed." Yet Mrs. Pinkley 
 was no way disconcerted ; she smiled, and was 
 very complaisant. She was a tall woman, 
 slight but well proportioned ; she had dark 
 hair, a red face ; there was something hard 
 and repulsive in her cold gray, wandering 
 eye, and her mouth was decidedly sensual. 
 She had quite a professional address, and, as 
 she moved about,the touch of her cold, delicate 
 hand now made the poor victim before her 
 shrink, as she would from the smooth, chilly 
 contact of a reptile, or as if she had felt the 
 hand of an executioner. 
 
 " I think, madam, we will do now" she 
 made a slight survey " yes, we're ready,'' said 
 she, bowing, and gracefully backing toward 
 the door ; " I will just hint that we can see 
 them." And placing her soft whi*e hand to 
 the side of her mouth, she gave a peculiar 
 cough, twice or thrice, and presently she 
 ushered in the two gentlemen with the 
 stately ceremony of a duchess. 
 
 Doctor Buster entered first, with a heavy, 
 formidable stride, and, despite of her resolu 
 tion, his enfeebled wife became nervous when 
 she saw his malicious frown, and she turned 
 her eyes away from the unfeeling determina 
 tion that was concentrated in his gaze. 
 Doctor Marks, who was the other person, 
 advanced toward her with the easy address 
 of a gentleman, and very politely said how 
 much he regretted to be obliged to make a 
 call at so unseasonable an hour. " In fact,"
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 67 
 
 he said, " lie was about to leave town, and her 
 husband, who was anxious about the state of 
 her health, requested him to pay her a visit at 
 once." His manner was very insinuating, 
 and his soft words seemed as harmless as the 
 prattle of an infant. 
 
 She heard these words ; they might have 
 given her confidence, but she heeded not 
 the speaker. She became at once self-possessed, 
 and quietly folding her arms, sent a steady 
 look of scorn upon the scowling countenance 
 before her. She seemed for the moment be 
 reft of all fear or dread whatever, and totally 
 indifferent as to personal results. 
 
 " My husband my health did you say ? 
 Ha ! ha ! my husband ! Yes, this is what an 
 arbitrary, unjust law may call him; this is 
 what our social barbarous conventionalism 
 may designate him but to me, what is he ? 
 I know him to be my unfeeling tyrant, and 
 persecutor, and he may yet be my murderer. 
 My health '! Here is a proof of his anxiety 
 for my condition," said she, spreading out 
 her hands, as if directing their observation to 
 the room ; and then she drew up her sleeve 
 and exhibited her attenuated arm. " Here I 
 have been the victim of his intolerance, and 
 in this place I have had terrible proof of his 
 pious attention and care for nearly a year. 
 While he has been preaching like an apostle, 
 and praying for the souls of others, almost 
 unknosvn to the world he tas been heartless 
 ly persecuting my frail body in this prison. 
 My health ! What a mockery ! Did he care for 
 my health when he robbed me of my children, 
 and thrust me into this place ? I have been 
 treated like a criminal, and debarred liberty ; 
 he now seeks to deprive me of my senses, 
 and it may be that he will yet take away my 
 very life." 
 
 She directed these last words with such 
 deliberation that they went stinging around 
 the reverend doctor's ears like the touch of 
 scorpions, and his Christian restraint became 
 so impotent, that were it not for his own 
 actual safety he would have annihilated her 
 with one mighty blow. 
 
 " Yes, strike," said she, " I too well know 
 the brutal fury of your passion ; but I fear you 
 not what do I care for life ? But even while 
 it lasts while I can still speak, I will tell 
 some one of your infamy ; I have been silent 
 too long. If I can tell no others, these people 
 shall hear of it. I will place you in their 
 power they may be yet witnesses against 
 you." 
 
 Mrs. Pinkley here became very much affect 
 ed ; she was actually shocked ; she found 
 some relief, however, in a pious ejaculation, 
 and muttered some inanity about falling from 
 grac<;. 
 
 " Pray, madam," said Doctor Marks, " do 
 not allow yourself to become so excited ; your 
 husband is anxious about you, and we are here 
 to serve you, if possible." 
 
 " That is easily done. If he is anxious about 
 me, let him give me my children and my 
 liberty ; let him cast me out upon the world 
 from this very place, and I shall need no other 
 physician. If you wish to serve me, if you 
 are here as friends, then," said she, lowering 
 her voice to tenderness, " plead with him for 
 
 me plead with him, kind friends ; let him 
 restore me to my little ones, and I will never 
 trouble him more. I will go away, far away, 
 where my name shall never bring him a re 
 proach." She fell on her knees, and seized the 
 hands of Doctor Marks, and looked up to his 
 face most appealingly through her tears. 
 " Oh ! do, good sir, pity me ; will you be my 
 friend ? I am an afflicted woman who has been 
 sorely tried ; be my friend, lead me to my 
 children, and the sea shall divide me from that 
 man, and its trackless mountains shall remain 
 between us forever." 
 
 Doctor Marks had a heart, it was touched 
 by this natural appeal, he felt embarrassed, 
 and he gently raised the weeping woman, and 
 made her sit on the low stool ; while Mrs. 
 Piukley affected to require an application of 
 her handkerchief, to keep back tears which 
 were yet frozen. 
 
 " Woman," said Doctor Buster, trying to 
 suppress his rage, " woman, be silent, if you 
 have any reason left. You shall never utter 
 blasphemies in your children's ears ; they 
 would only live to curse you for blighting 
 their hopes of eternity." 
 
 " Reason ! That is what you have always 
 denounced ; it is because you have despised 
 that noble faculty that I am here now. 
 " Friends," said she, addressing the other 
 persons, " were it not for reason, I might have 
 been, as he is, a shining light in the church. I 
 might have still been a believer in that inspir 
 ed revelation that has made him so chaste, so 
 forgiving, and so exemplary. I might have 
 remained a priestly instrument to disseminate 
 what I now believe to be error. My reason re 
 belled against a doctrine that would depict a 
 divine Being to be as cold, as heartless, and aa 
 revengeful as that man before you. I could 
 not believe in the eternal punishment which 
 he preached, and which he would relentlessly 
 practice upon me." 
 
 "Wretch ! what mercy can you expect either 
 from God or man after uttering such impious 
 sentiments ? you shall have none from me ! 
 If your boasted reason has led you to this state 
 of degradation, if it has led you to trample 
 upon Christian truth, 'then, by Heavens ! it 
 must lead you out of this to a place where it 
 may be better cultivated. I will not foul my 
 hands any longer with your leprous carcass ; 
 prepare and leave this house, and may your 
 days be spent in weeping, and your nights be 
 as woeful as the terrors of the damned !" As 
 he said this, the shadow of his raised fist could 
 be seen like a death's head on the opposite 
 wall. 
 
 Doctor Marks stood almost appalled when 
 he heard these imprecations ; Doctor Buster's 
 face was livid with rage ; he looked more like 
 a ferocious maniac than a human being, and 
 at the moment he was more fitted to become 
 the shackled inmate of a mad-house than the 
 awe-struck woman whom he denounced. Even 
 Mrs. Pinkiey, trained and accustomed as she 
 hid been to scenes of uproar and confusion in 
 such places, became fearful. She could feel 
 collected and indifferent when she heard the 
 ravings of a disordered intellect in an asylum 
 but she could not witness this wild ungovern 
 able fury of a sane man, and he too one of the
 
 68 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 called and ordained preachers of the Gospel, 
 without a shudder. Yet she could excuse 
 this excess of zeal on the part of the modera 
 tor. The determined contumacy of a self-opini 
 onated woman was very provoking ; he was 
 a preacher of truth, and Mrs. Pinkley, as long 
 as God spared her, would be always an hum 
 ble upholder of that principle. 
 
 She followed the reverend doctor from the 
 room. She no doubt thought it her duty to try 
 and soothe away his anguish; his passion was 
 too great to allow him to remain with safety 
 in the presence of her whom he detested. His 
 anger might have led him to commit some 
 act of violence which would cause publicity, 
 and this he dreaded more than any other 
 result. Doctor Marks felt relieved when he 
 saw him leave the wretched chamber and its 
 helpless inmate ; she, poor unfortunate ! was 
 weeping, and her pitiful sobs were an irresisti 
 ble appeal to his better nature. He was, how 
 ever, strictly orthodox, and was ready to doubt 
 the sanity of any person who professed to disbe 
 lieve even the most mythical story of the Bible, 
 but he could not persecute. The insight he had 
 just obtained of the moderator's character and 
 motives did not exalt the latter in his estima 
 tion, and as he had been requested to come 
 there for a professional purpose he now prompt 
 ly decided how it was best to act under the 
 circumstances. 
 
 Mrs. Pinkley's returning steps could be 
 heard ; there was not a moment to spare. He 
 hurriedly whispered, " Leave this place, sub 
 mit for the present, and I will see what can 
 be done for you." 
 
 It was long past midnight when the cab 
 drove quickly away with Mrs. Pinkley, and 
 the doctor's wife, and a coarse-looking man, 
 in whose pockets something like keys, or 
 handcuffs rattled as he entered the vehicle. 
 In a short time afterward, Doctor Marks and 
 the moderator left the desolate house. They 
 were seen by Robert and Sam, making their 
 way along the dark splashy streets through 
 the wind and rain, and it was with a feeling 
 of disappointment that these watchers had to 
 retire for the night without being able to do 
 more then than avow tlieir determination to 
 make a discovery as soon as possible. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE red lion which hung outside the 
 tavern bearing that name could scarcely be 
 seen next morning through the heavy fog 
 which enveloped every object. Masts on the 
 Thames, huge buildings, royal and episcopal 
 
 Ealaces, and ambitious steeples were but dim- 
 / visible, and pedestrians as they hurried on 
 occasionally jostled each other in a very uncere 
 monious manner. The red lion, crowned and 
 rampant as he looked in the bright sunshine, 
 now appeared rather subdued ; and the large 
 drops which accumulated on his bronzed sides 
 fell with pattering sound on the pavement, 
 being occasionally intercepted by the heads, 
 great and small, of early street plodders. The 
 good-natured landlord sat smoking a long clay 
 pipe near the tap-room door, and as he now 
 
 and then looked up with pride at the dripping 
 representative of his house, he had often to 
 smile at the manner in which the said lion 
 administered spiritless drops, so different from 
 the more reviving ones contained in the circle 
 of bellied and painted kegs which stood around 
 him, like sturdy little bacchanalians awaiting 
 his orders. 
 
 The Red Lion tavern was one of the oldest 
 established places of its kind in London. Gen 
 eration after generation had crossed its thresh 
 old, stood on its sanded floor, and had par 
 taken of the generous cheer for which it was 
 famed. Even up to this period, it had kept 
 pace with the times, and its good ale aud 
 tender loins could not be surpassed within the 
 bounds of that old city. It was a peculiar re 
 sort ; although generally frequented by the 
 middle, or rather by the intelligent trading 
 and working classes, yet authors, professors, 
 and occasionally a stray waif of nobility, might 
 be seen to enter. For the traditions of the 
 house had it, that more than once, at irregular 
 intervals of relaxation or revelry, the highest 
 in the land drank in its cozy parlor, and 
 looked on the Thames through the diamond 
 panes of its great bay window. And good John 
 Hollis, the present landlord, would point with 
 pride to the stout arm-chair which held the 
 last scion of royalty that honored his house ; 
 and it would be a favor indeed, were you per 
 mitted to drink out of the " King's cup," a cut 
 and flowered glass tumbler, which more than 
 once had touched the lips of a certain Prince 
 Regent, who had afterward become " The 
 Lord's anointed " as " George the Fourth." 
 
 To a person of leisure, who wished to hear 
 the news of the day, or make short excursions 
 through the city from a central point, the Red 
 Lion was the spot. Not only was it well sup 
 plied with city and provincial papers, but it 
 could boas' of an excellent library, which was 
 enlarged from time to time by gifts of rare and 
 scientific books from its generous patrons. And 
 works treating on the merits of the state 
 church, and popular theology, which were pro 
 scribed from the shelves of respectable Chris 
 tian booksellers, could here be found to satisfy 
 the curious, stimulate investigation, and ex 
 pose pretension. Adjoining the library was a 
 large room in which guests could meet ; and 
 friendly discussion, mostly on politics and reli 
 gion, might be often heard from an early hour 
 in the aiternoon until late at night. 
 
 Close to a front window in that room, 
 and looking demurely into the fog that half 
 hid the rampant lion, sat Samuel Styles ; 
 he was thinking of the events of the past 
 night, and seemed in momentary doubt and 
 confusion as to the reality of the dreary in 
 cidents of that period. And though he knew 
 but little as yet either of the truth or falsehood 
 of what he had heard Dr. Buster relate concern 
 ing his wife, still he was strongly suspicious 
 that all was not right. From the moment he 
 laid eyes on the reverend doctor, he took an 
 instinctive dislike to him ; ho had not yet seen 
 Mr. Mannors, whom Robert held in such 
 esteem ; but he heard him alluded to as being 
 an " infamous character," and he had also 
 heard Dr. Buster attribute insanity to his own 
 wife, on account of her religious opinions, and
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 69 
 
 threaten her with an asylum. And now, as lie 
 believed that threat had been carried into 
 effect, it forcibly reminded him of a similar case 
 of persecution that had lately been exposed in 
 his own country.* He felt a glow of indigna 
 tion, and as he was an ardent lover of fair 
 play, and had time and means at his disposal, 
 he determined to see j ustice done, and if pos 
 sible rescue an oppressed woman from the 
 clutches of an unfeeling priest and sanctimo 
 nious tyrant. He made up his mind that 
 when Robert called that day, to go with him 
 to Mr. Mannors, and reveal all to him ; then, 
 after a sudden thought, he snatched at his 
 pocket and drew from it the paper which fell 
 from the hands of the reverend moderator 
 under the archway, and which Robert had 
 picked up. 
 
 Samuel Styles, or rather as he chose to call 
 himself " Sam Styles," was an enthusiastic na 
 tive American, as proud of his country and of 
 the " glorious S'ars and Stripes," as ever Briton 
 was of the Red Cross or Union Jack. He was, 
 according to his own account, " raised" on a 
 farm in Pennsylvania, and having lost his 
 parents at an early age, entered a printing- 
 office in Philadelphia, where he remained for 
 two or three years. He was very sober and 
 industrious ; and during one of the great reli 
 gious excitements which periodically occur in 
 that city of gospel palaces and celestial ambas 
 sadors, he g< it converted and joined the church, 
 and being esteemed for his sincerity and zeal, 
 was appointed a tract distributor ; his district 
 in the city being varied occasionally from the 
 streets known as 
 
 " Chestnut, Walnut, Spruce, and Pine, 
 
 to 
 Mulberry, Cherry, Race, and Vine." 
 
 Having proved faithful in this respect, he 
 was afterward called upon by a wealthy 
 evangelical society to fill the more important 
 position of colporteur, at a fair salary, and sent 
 to dispose of Bibles, and Testaments, and to 
 circulate other religious books in the country. 
 In this capacity, he visited several places and 
 studied the effects of religion upon the minds 
 of different classes, from the slow " aborigines " 
 of Cape May to the more enterprising and 
 intelligent natives of Pennsylvania and New- 
 York. And whether it was that he became 
 dissatisfied with his own efforts, or that the 
 general ideas of those most wedded ro the 
 Gospel were not sufficiently liberal and pro 
 gressive, he grew discontented with his voca 
 tion and resigned. And while he left Moses 
 and the prophets to grope their way among 
 the unregcnerate as best they could, he, being 
 fond of adventure, commenced business " on 
 his own hook," and traveled with horse and 
 wagon from Sfata to State, as the vender of 
 small wares and fancy articles. After a time 
 he became a doubter in matters of faith ; he 
 was surprised to find, that wherever he 
 traveled, t. large majority of the most intel 
 ligent persons were skeptics or downright 
 unbelievers, and having found a great demand 
 for those liberal books so regularly denounced 
 from the pulpit, and so formally condemned by 
 certain leaders of the press, he added them to 
 
 *Mrs. Packard's, of Illinois. 
 
 his stock, and became an active agent for the 
 circulation of secular and spiritual journals. 
 For so doing, he met with many reproofs, 
 received some insults, and was more than once 
 threatened by respectable church-members 
 with personal injury. But Samuel Styles was 
 not the man to be intimidated, and while 
 governed by his own free thoughts, he would 
 come to no decision on any question of impor 
 tance until he had heard both sides ; and now 
 being as strong in his opposition to the popu 
 lar faith as he was truly sincere while a be 
 liever, he felt it his duty to try and counter 
 act that which he had once striven to propa 
 gate. Like most of his countrymen, he was a 
 great reader ; but not of the trashy, sixpenny 
 literature as greedily devoured in the United 
 States as pea-nuts or painted candy ; he was 
 well informed on general subjects, great on 
 statistics, and in argument was prepared to 
 defend his position with obstinacy. When 
 asked for the cause of his apostasy, he would 
 state that the prevailing cupidity of Gospel 
 ministers, who claimed and received exorbi 
 tant salaries, was the first matter which caused 
 him to reflect. While a boy, forced like 
 others to attend a Sunday-school, and wearied 
 with the endless routine of texts and cate 
 chism, hymns and prayers, none of which he 
 could truly understand, a minister would at 
 tend at stated periods, and after having given a 
 lecture, would make the application result in 
 forcing the boys to give, as a voluntary con 
 tribution, the few pence they might have 
 accumulated as pocket-money.* Thus after 
 he had grown up and joined the church, he 
 found one great systematic method for collec 
 tion. Cash was required for the minister's 
 fund, for a church fund, for a building fund, 
 for a missionary fund, and for a superannuat 
 ed fund. There was a fund for Bibles, and a 
 fund for tracts, a fund for special matters, and 
 one for general purposes ; and it seemed to 
 him like one concerted shout from pulpit and 
 platform, of " give, give, give, eternally give." 
 And the rich gave of their wealth, and the 
 poor of their poverty ; and still the reverend 
 pensioners cried for more, until they made 
 Christianity, in this respect, the most oppres 
 sive and expensive system in the world. 
 
 Then in the churches were held tea-meet 
 ings and soirees, fairs and festivals, pious lot- 
 
 * In general, children are very reluctant to attend 
 Sunday-schools, and still more so to give up thc>ir 
 scanty supply of pocket-money ; but by the peculiar 
 pressure of the " voluntary " system, the money is 
 obtained, as may be Inferred from the following para 
 graph taken from a Philadelphia paper of Sept. 26, 
 1866: 
 
 "A MISSIONARY VESSEL. On Saturday last, at Bos- 
 ton, a vessel called the Morning Star was launched 
 in the presence of 5000 spectators. She cost f 20.000, 
 and was paid for entirely from the contribution! of 
 Sunday-school children in about 2:XK) Sunday-schools 
 in different parts of the world. Tins vessel is to be 
 fitted out by the Missionary Hoard at Honolulu in tha 
 Sandwich Islands, und is to be engaged wholly iu 
 missionary work." 
 
 Who can believe that "Sunday-school children" ever 
 deliberately planned this unwise expenditure in their 
 anxiety for the conversion of Honolulu heathen? 
 This priestly scheme produced the desired excitement, 
 however; five thousand witnessed the display this 
 waste for Honolulu ; while the priests have good rea 
 son to believe that, in the winter, necessity may drive 
 more than five thousand of the Boston poor shivering 
 to their hard beds. AUTHOB.
 
 70 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 teries and religious revels, in which fashion 
 and flirtation had full sway ; where minis 
 terial potentates, who lorded it over the reason 
 and consciences of their adherents, were noted 
 for making a peculiar distinction between 
 those who had much to give and those who 
 had not ; and where the priest, who formally 
 preached humility and the vanity of wealth, 
 was too often worshiped as the god of the 
 temple, ever ready to receive the rich gifts of 
 his votaries. Samuel Styles saw these things, 
 and found that Christianity instead of being, 
 as it strangely claimed to be, a despised thing, 
 was in fact a haughty power, pampered by 
 rulers, and regal in wealth ; an authority that 
 could exalt, or depose, or persecute. 
 
 But what of the Bible, once the idol of his 
 soul, the centre of his hopes and aspirations, 
 revered and worshiped by millions trained 
 to its belief ? A book, or collection, by whom 
 written, or when, or where, none could deter 
 mine ; teeming with contradictions and absur 
 dities ; in conflict with science, reason, and 
 humanity ; a fearful record of crime, lust, and 
 brutality ; depicting a divine Being as govern 
 ed by the basest of human passions, full of 
 wrath, and hurling destruction on the fallible 
 beings whom he had created. A horde of 
 sects professed to be guided by its maxims, 
 and these have been notably exhibited in 
 mutual persecution ; and, like the Bible, al 
 most every page of their acts and records is 
 sprinkled with blood. 
 
 These discoveries were painful, and sugges 
 tive of deep reflection ; then followed a strict 
 investigation, and, like many others who have 
 yielded reluctantly to conviction, Samuel 
 Styles at last became an unbeliever. 
 
 After a time, and, contrary to the predictions 
 of many of the faithful, his circumstances be 
 came much improved. He had a genius, for 
 invention, and succeeded in obtaining a patent 
 for two or three very dissimilar articles, the 
 sale of which placed him in a good position. 
 By his straightforward intercourse among the 
 people, he earned a good reputation ; and 
 though many doubted his orthodoxy, yet no 
 one doubted his word. He was intelligent, 
 humorous, and communicative, and in his fre 
 quent sojournings was a welcome visitor to 
 many a rural homestead. And it often hap 
 pened that while trading among settlers in 
 the far West, he was entertained at the same 
 board with the traveling preacher, whom he 
 generally managed to draw into a friendly 
 discussion thus, as he said, "casting his bread 
 upon the waters." When the rebellion broke 
 out, he joined the Union army, was wounded 
 at Manassas, and after having remained in 
 hospital for a long period, his health being 
 much impaired, was honorably discharged. 
 
 For his restoration, he decided to risk a sea- 
 voyage. In his younger days, on the " glori 
 ous Fourth of July" he had heard declama 
 tory orations against Britain, but he could re 
 sist prejudice; he knew that she was a mo 
 ther of nations, the parent of his own, and the 
 progenitor of European liberty. And though, 
 as a republican, he believed that that great 
 country was terribly blighted by its royal 
 government and state church, yet he sympa 
 thized with the pluck and free spirit of its 
 
 common people the true nobility of the land 
 After due preparation, he left New York for 
 " the birthplace of his grandfather ; " and 
 the only relation he as yet found was Robert, 
 his cousin. 
 
 Samuel still stood at the window of the 
 Red Lion tavern looking intently at the paper 
 he had drawn from his pocket, and as he gazed 
 at the cramped words, they seemed to move 
 about and arrange themselves into curious, 
 forms. He saw the fierce features of Doctor 
 Buster, then the outline of a pleading woman, 
 then again they changed to the shape of a 
 heavy-barred window ; and while trying to 
 peer into the darkness of a cell, and just as he 
 imagined he could discern some dim, wither 
 ing form in its depths, the words resumed 
 their places, and he again read " A. M. North 
 street, near Jewish cemetery." 
 
 " Darn me if that an't strange ; if my eyes 
 were spirit mediums, they could not have 
 changed that writing better ; all there ! bars 
 and bolts and Doctor Buster to boot." He 
 turned the paper, looked at both sides, then 
 held it from him, and then aside, as if it were 
 a veil or screen which hid some object from 
 his view. " Yes, these are the words, words 
 that may give me a clew. I'll try and un 
 ravel them, and if I have to hover about the 
 Jewish cemetery as a medium or resurrection 
 ist, I may disentomb some critter either dead 
 or alive. I'll try hard, and if the great doctor 
 feels spiritually inclined, and calls upon me, I'll 
 answer that call with such a rap as will make 
 him feel like being in the very centre and em 
 brace of a corkscrew thunderbolt." 
 
 Having thus soliloquized, and while leisure 
 ly folding the paper, his attention was called 
 by shouts and hooting almost immediately 
 across the street. He could j ust distinguish 
 a number of persons outside a shop door ; a 
 carter was unloading some pieces of furniture, 
 and two or three persons in official costume, 
 like policemen, were superintending the de 
 livery. A motley gathering stood around, and 
 as piece after piece was shoved into the build 
 ing, the jabbering crowd gave a shout, and one 
 voice louder than the rest cried out, 
 
 ' Och ! success to the 'stablishmint, divil a 
 scrimmage we'd have on the ould sod at all 
 at all widout it ; sure, it keeps the boys busy ; 
 and the parsons, and peelers, and hangmen 
 makes a fine livin out of it." Then there was 
 a loud laugh, another shout, and the pestered 
 officials, who really appeared ashamed of their 
 work, made a show of threats. Then the voice 
 cried again, 
 
 " Arrah ! that's right, make the haythins be- 
 liave themselves, keep away wid ye, sell 'em 
 nit bed and blanket ; sure, the divil must havn 
 liis due." Shouts and laughter again fol 
 lowed, and there were more threats; but it 
 was all in vain, big and little remained, and 
 save the jeering and occasional shout, no inter 
 ference was offered. The furniture was stow- 
 id away, the more orderly of the assemblage 
 had entered the shop, and Sam, having his 
 curiosity excited, crossed the street to sea 
 what was going on. He looked in from the 
 doorstep, and near a corner, close to where 
 some household articles were piled, he sa\v 
 five or six members of the society of Friends*
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 71 
 
 commonly called " Quakers." There they 
 stood, with the utmost gravity and decorum, 
 and the majority of those inside seemed to 
 regard them with deference. Some proceed 
 ing was about to take place in which an 
 interest was manifested, and while many out 
 side were vehemently discoursing, the expres 
 sions, " national church," and " national curse, " 
 could be heard most often ; those within kept 
 tolerably still. In a few minutes, a kind of 
 beadle or tithing-man stepped upon a platform. 
 He was a stout, coarse-looking fellow, evidently 
 well adapted for his business ; he leisurely took 
 from his pocket a paper, and having spread it 
 before him on a desk, glanced first at the at 
 tendant Friends in the corner, and then with 
 stolid indifference at the upturned faces of 
 those around him. After a preliminary cough, 
 lie lifted the document, which was a kind of 
 distress warrant or execution for the non-pay 
 ment of church rates, and said, " I have here 
 authority from the church wardens of this 
 parish to offer for sale at public auction the 
 goods and chattels of Mary Wilkins and 
 others, for the non-payment of lawful rates 
 due to the reverend rector ; and now unless 
 the cash is paid, with costs, forthwith, I shall 
 commence. Well, what do you say ?" 
 
 He paused, there was no reply ; but a heavy 
 sob was heard from one poor woman who 
 with bent head stood clutching the handle of 
 a little trunk which was placed on a table be 
 fore her. 
 
 " I don't want to be in haste ; I'll just give 
 you five minutes to think," said he, chucking 
 out his big silver watch, " five minutes to pay 
 the legal dues of the church." 
 
 He then coolly stuck his thumbs in the arm- 
 holes of his waistcoat, and began to whistle 
 to himself unceremoniously while he kept time 
 with his foot on the platform. 
 
 " Friend, thee need not delay on our account. 
 We do not recognize thy claim to be just ; we 
 neither enter the church nor hear the parson ; 
 therefore we have no right to pay. Thee must 
 enforce thy unjust tax ; the society of Friends 
 in England will never submit to thy legal ex 
 tortion. Thee hast seized, and thee may sell." 
 
 " Bravo !" cried one : and a murmur of ap 
 probation was heard around. The bf adle was 
 getting nettled, and hastily replied : " Oh ! you 
 broad-brimmed chaps are very particular, very 
 conscientious. The church is there for you, 
 and if Quakers won't go near it, that's their 
 own fault. If you want to go to heaven your 
 own way, why, then you must pay for it. If 
 you are so chock full of the Gospel as to resist 
 the law year after year, the same law will just 
 as surely prosecute." A hiss could now be 
 heard over the i>lace. A policeman called out, 
 " Order !" and the irritated beadle, with a " Here 
 goes !" snatched up the little trunk, and placed 
 it on a stand before him. 
 
 "I have here," said he, looking at his war 
 rant, " a claim against Mary Wilkins of one 
 shilling and eight-pence for church rates, and 
 half a crown for costs ; give me a bid for this," 
 and he tossed about the trunk, making its con 
 tents rattle. It was locked, and he applied his 
 big thumb to the hasp to try if it would give 
 way. " How much for this? She has the key, 
 and won't let us see the contents. I'll lay 
 
 I there's something good in it," said he, with & 
 
 I chuckle, and giving a peculiar wink at one of 
 
 the policeman. " What do you say for this 
 
 trunk and its contents, no matter if it holds 
 
 Bank of England notes ?" 
 
 " Indeed," said the sobbing woman, turn 
 ing a pleading look toward the audience, 
 " there's nothing in it but my dead boy's 
 clothes, some of his school-books, and other 
 things of no value to any one now but my 
 self. He made that little trunk for me, and it's 
 all I have belonging to him." She was a 
 widow, and had lost her only child. 
 
 " Come, give me a bid ; how much for this 
 clothes, books, bank-notes and all ?" 
 
 Yet no bid came, the suppressed feelings of 
 all present scarcely let a sound louder than a 
 whisper be heard; and as the poor woman stood 
 silently weeping, with head still bent and her 
 hands upon her face, even the rough crowd 
 turned toward her many a pitying eye, some 
 of which were already brimful of tears. 
 
 " Can I hear no bid, not one bid for this ? 
 then if you don't, I shall have to give one 
 myself. Forbes," said he, turning to one of 
 the policemen, " can't you do something for 
 the church ? Just start this." 
 
 The man thus appealed to only shook his 
 head, as if his heart and emotions were all 
 the other way. There was another pause, the 
 beadle looked perplexed ; the woman stood 
 close by, and her sobbing was heard, as if her 
 sobs alone could now sufficiently plead her 
 case, or protest against the wrong. 
 
 " I will give thee a bid for that poor wo 
 man," said one of the Friends, moving toward 
 the beadle. 
 
 " No, you don't, I guess," said a strange voice ; 
 the people turned around, and Samuel Stylea 
 was seen elbowing his way manfully through 
 the crowd : he soon reached the desk, and lay 
 ing hold of the little trunk, and giving a comi 
 cal look at the beadle, said, " Well, old stingo, 
 what do you want for this ?" 
 
 The act was performed so quickly and with 
 such nonchalance, that the beadle himself stood 
 looking in gaping wonder at this assurance, 
 and the affair had such a ridiculous aspect 
 that the general laugh which followed almost 
 completely disconcerted the church official. 
 
 " Give you a dollar ; guess that's about 
 right, an't it, eh ? " 
 
 I don't know any thing about your Yan 
 kee dollars," said the beadle, now plucking 
 up, having discovered his man ; " if you say 
 a British crown, and no other bid, 'tis yours ." 
 
 " Can't give you a Yankee one anyhow ; 
 guess we han't got such trinkets on the other 
 side of the mill-pond ; if there was fewer 
 crowns round these diggins, there might be 
 more money, and your occupation would be 
 gone. Now an't that strange ?" 
 
 The gruff beadle was in no mood for argu 
 ment ; no other bid was given, and Sam be 
 came the purchaser of the little trunk for a 
 'crown." He immediately restored the poor 
 woman her property ; she was full of grateful 
 expressions, and the audience applauded so 
 loudly that the crowd greatly increased, and 
 those who passed along the street wondered 
 at the sudden acclamation. 
 
 Order being restored, the sale again com
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 menced ; one by one of the goods and chat 
 tels of the Friends was then put up, but quick 
 ly purchased by their owners for just sufficient 
 to pay the clerical or parochial demand against 
 them. The society of Friends have ever re- 
 eisted, and still continue to resist the iniqui 
 tous claim for tithes or church rates, and the 
 annual formality of such a conscientious pro 
 test is still to be witnessed, and still the pious 
 and legal atrocity is as regularly consummated 
 in free old England. 
 
 Samuel Styles had now witnessed one eflect 
 of the practical workings of the British State 
 Church ; a degrading instance of clerical ex 
 tortion and rapacity. He felt the most utter 
 disgust at such a vile resort to plunder a com 
 munity, and he was amazed to think that the 
 intelligence, civilization, and freedom of that 
 great country should, at the present day, sub 
 mit to such infamous oppression. But he did 
 not consider at the time how the masses in 
 Britain have struggled against priestly power, 
 or how the great minds of the nation have 
 declaimed against such usurpation. He did 
 not then remember that that terrible incubus 
 on the resources of the country the State 
 Church was shielded by a royal and aristo 
 cratic influence which was almost absolute ; and 
 that that influence, by its potency and wealth, 
 still controlled Parliament ; still thrust its 
 mercenary bishops in the House of Lords ; and 
 still degraded British legislation before the 
 world, by leaving unrepealed among its sta 
 tutes authority for ecclesiastical monopoly, 
 a code of laws partial, arbitrary, and unjust.* 
 
 Dwelling on these things, he wandered 
 moodily along the street, and crossed Water 
 loo bridge with the intention of going to 
 Hampstead. He went on, and soon found him 
 self in front of a large brick building, before 
 which a number of stylish vehicles were 
 drawn up. It was Exeter Hall ; some one of 
 its great public meetings was in progress; 
 people were yet going in, and he felt half dis 
 posed to follow. For many years he had 
 heard of this great arena \rhere liberty had 
 been proclaimed to many, but where others 
 were drawn into bondage ; where the shackles 
 of the slave were broken, but where the hu 
 man mind was bound by fetters of a different 
 kind, and led into servility. 
 
 While standing here, he was surprised at 
 the evidences of wealth and poverty which 
 met his eye ; the contrast was extreme. Aris 
 tocratic equipages passing and repassing, 
 coachmen, footmen, and postillions, laden 
 with rich lace and heraldic trappings were 
 seen in every direction ; while at the same time 
 could be observed the sunken eye and hoi-low 
 cheek of numerous wretched and forlorn crea 
 tures, who were listlessly lingering around, or 
 moving here and there like passing shadows 
 through the glittering crowd. He was impress 
 ed by the great difference of circumstances, and 
 was trying to philosophize upon a remedy, 
 when his attention was directed to a movement 
 of the people who had been standing idly about 
 the great hall. Policemen were busy trying 
 to get the 'loiterers to stand aside, a lane was 
 soon formed, and presently a stately equipage 
 
 * See Note K. 
 
 moved slowly away from the building and 
 turned toward the Strand. As it came along, 
 the policemen raised their hats deferentially ; 
 it was evident that one of the numerous great 
 personages of London was present, and, upon 
 inquiry, Samuel was informed that it was the 
 " Lord Bishop of London," a great name there. 
 He had just presided at some meeting in 
 which the church was interested, and as that 
 great and humble " successor of the apo.-tles " 
 was wheeled away after his arduous duty, he 
 was followed in formal and regular order by 
 the principal and minor grades of metropoli 
 tan clergy, who, although less splendidly con 
 veyed, yet gave palpable evidence to the poor 
 and hungry, who looked wistfully at the dis 
 play, that to many " Godliness is great gain," 
 even in this wicked world. 
 
 Satisfied in his own mind with this convic 
 tion, and while attracted by the long line of 
 moving splendor, his eyes rested upon a cleri 
 cal vehicle of a different kind. In a neat car 
 riage drawn by a pair of fine horses were 
 four persons, two young ladies in front, one 
 of whom was driving, and behind sat a lady 
 and gentleman. The ladies were richly dress 
 ed, the gentleman was in spotless clerical 
 black, and was a distinguished and popular 
 preacher. He was blandly smiling to some 
 whom he recognized ; and while his heavy 
 features seemed distorted by a continued un 
 natural effort to wear a smile, Sam caught at 
 a glance the cold, soulless eye of Dr. Buster. 
 Even there, in the bright sunlight, in the 
 midst of favorable surroundings, seated by 
 fashion, and in the hurly-burly of actual life 
 and business, there was in that look some 
 thing that gave even to Sam a momentary 
 doubt of his own resolution. Were he alone 
 and possessed of treasure, he would not like 
 to meet such a countenance in a desolate place. 
 But see ! the features relax, the smile is gone, 
 there is a frown, and suddenly a scowl of hate, 
 which the doctor as suddenly hurled into the 
 benevolent face of Martin Mannors. 
 
 Samuel, following the direction of the doc 
 tor's eye, saw Robert at a few yards distance ; 
 he was driving a small neat vehicle, and by his 
 side sat a person whom he immediately took 
 to be Mr. Mannors, and who had his calm eye 
 unflinchingly fixed upon the lowering features 
 that already seemed to shrink and wither be 
 neath his mild but steady gaze. The doctor 
 had thus unexpectedly met one for whom his 
 dread had generated a deadly hate ; he hur 
 riedly reached over and struck one of th 
 horses with his cane, and as they rushed on 
 ward he made some frivolous excuse to the 
 ladies about becoming nervous in a crowded 
 thoroughfare. 
 
 " There he goes," said Robert, looking after 
 them, " there goes a saint as I hope to see 
 elevated nearer heaven one of these days." 
 And saying this, he quickly and significantly 
 wound the end of his whip-lash around hia 
 own neck. He now observed Sam who stood 
 close by, and was glad they had met. " This 
 is my cousin, sir, this is Yankee Sam, sir, all 
 the way from America a wildish chap in hia 
 way." 
 
 Mr. Mannors was much pleased to meet Ro 
 bert's friend ; he had heard of him, and of th
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 73 
 
 adventure of the preceding night. He gave 
 him an invitation to Hampstead, and made him 
 promise to call there with Robert the next 
 day. He was no\v on his way to town, and 
 might not return before night. A few remarks 
 were then made about the unexpected meet 
 ing they had just had with Dr. Buster. Mr. 
 Mannors said but little, yet there was a mean 
 ing in his look that could not be misunder 
 stood. 
 
 After they had driven away, Sam felt in a 
 rambling mood ; he was quite indifferent ast > 
 his course, and walked through several streets, 
 often stopping before gorgeous shop-windows 
 to look at the rich goods and splendid wares 
 exhibited, then halting to guess the dimen 
 sions of some immense church or public build 
 ing. He loitered near gardens and wealthy 
 mansions ; then in a park, and, going on still 
 further, got in the neighborhood of an old 
 churchyard. It was not a cemetery on the 
 modern plan ; it was a crowded acre or two in 
 the midst of dwellings, like some of those he 
 had seen in Philadelphia charnel-places, 
 which are yet allowed to pollute the air of 
 that city. The burial-ground in question was 
 inclosed by an iron railing and surrounded by 
 some squat-looking buildings, and tall lod 
 ging houses ; and even there, at short distances, 
 were places where strong liquors and London 
 stout could be had ; it seemed as if the prox 
 imity of these resorts to the dead often induced 
 mourners to test the oblivious qualities of 
 such liquids. 
 
 Outside of one of these places, some distance 
 up the street, and nearly in front of the prin 
 cipal gate of the cemetery, a great number of 
 persons were assembled ; others came on every 
 moment ; some remained near the gate, while 
 many went into the graveyard. Anxious to 
 see what was going on, Sam hurried to the 
 place ; the crowd was getting larger every 
 moment, and boys clung to the iron railing ; 
 while others were busy climbing such lamp 
 posts, or trees as would afford a view. Think 
 ing some great funeral was expected, he asked 
 a by-stander, a plain looking workman, if such 
 was to be the case ; the man at once replied, 
 " No, it beant no funeral. We had one here 
 abouts yesterday Tom Jones's child there's 
 the grave yonder," said he, pointing to the 
 cemetery. The end of the little mound 
 could be seen, and close to it stood the father 
 and a number of men armed with sticks and 
 clubs a resolute dare-devil set, that were 
 ready to bid defiance to law or gospel. 
 
 " Now," continued the man, " Tom is a 
 Methodee, and the parson don't like such, and 
 says 'cause the child wasn't baptized, it shan't 
 lie there." 
 
 " Why, you don't mean to say they're going 
 to take it up again 1" 
 
 " Yes, that's it, they're coming here to-day, 
 coming now to do it. The parson is high- 
 church a high-flyer and wants that bit of 
 pasture for his own nock. See, here they 
 come damn them !" 
 
 Another crowd was now moving down 
 toward the churchyard, but neither the so- 
 called " high-flyer " nor his expected assis 
 tants could be seen. It was another funeral ; 
 the aged mother of one of the parish work 
 
 men had died, and they brought her body to 
 the old resting-place for interment, and, as sha 
 had been some kind of Methodist, several said 
 that bringing her there would be the cause of 
 more trouble. For some years past a sect of 
 Methodists called " Ranters " had been estab 
 lished in certain districts of the city a sect 
 very plain in its way, but very noisy and up 
 roarious in its religious demonstrations. Its 
 members were almost entirely belonging to 
 the poorer working class, which great mission 
 ary societies in their anxiety for the conver 
 sion of foreign heathens had overlooked. Now, 
 the Ranters looked upon the pretensions of 
 the church with great indifference ; and the 
 church, or at least the high-church, still as 
 suming control over the souls of English sin 
 ners, claimed to dictate, and would not allow 
 an u'nbaptized thing to moulder side by side 
 with " the faithful ;" nor should any who had 
 left the bosom of the church for a conventicle 
 find interment in a parochial grave, unless the 
 formal burial service was read at the place by 
 an authorized minister. No, the church could 
 never forget its authority ; it would still hurl 
 its legal anathemas, and deny to the foul 
 weeds of dissent Christian burial in " con 
 secrated ground."* 
 
 The funeral now arrived at the gate ; the 
 bearers were ordered to halt ; a line of con 
 stables stood across the entrance, and a cler 
 gyman with a very little head, very little 
 eyes, and a very large nose, pompously warn 
 ed the intruders to keep off. He held a folded 
 surplice on one arm, and nourished the other 
 with clerical determination. A number of 
 other constables kept moving about, and mat 
 ters looked serious ; some were for an imme 
 diate resort to force, while others advised a 
 more peaceable method. The bearers now 
 lowered the coffin on the pavement, and one 
 of the relatives asked that permission might 
 be given to bury the deceased in the same 
 place where her husband and two of her chil 
 dren had been laid years before. But the 
 parson was inexorable ; none, he said, should 
 have the privilege of burial in that place but 
 deceased members of the church ; those who 
 resisted its authority should be as the heathen 
 and the publican. The body of every schis 
 matic found in . that churchyard should be 
 disinterred, and buried where they ought to 
 be in the common highway. Yells and 
 groans followed this reply ; a hundred indig 
 nant faces could be seen around, and al 
 ready some were collecting stones and other 
 missiles for a pitched battle. One or two per 
 sons, however, seemed to have control, and an 
 old workman stood upon the coffin, and, aftei 
 having called the attention of all present, said ; 
 
 " Friends, we all know that this is an un- 
 
 * Perhaps one of the latest specimens of this kind 
 of clerical intolerance is exhibited in the follow 
 ing:, from an English paper the London National 
 Reformer : " The Kev. Mr. Mirehouse, Rector of Col- 
 sterworth, has been displaying his Christian charity 
 by refusing to bury a child, because it had not been 
 baptized at his establishment, but had had its sins re 
 mitted at the Wesleyan Chapel. \Vheu the funeral 
 procession arrived at the church, the gates were lock 
 ed, and it was not until the mother of the child fainted 
 in the street that this ' Christian gentleman and ha 
 mane man * allowed the funeral to enter the ' consecrat 
 ed' ground."
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 Christian proceeding ; we know that there is 
 no religious equality yet in this land ; much 
 as we may boast of our free laws, there," said 
 he, pointing down to the coffin, " is an evi 
 dence of their partiality, and some, as we now 
 see, would have no equality even in the grave. 
 But it matters not where this poor body be 
 neath my feet is to be hidden, whether in a 
 field or highway, neither does it matter what 
 is said over her remains. I may not live, 
 friends, to see it, but, remember," said he, 
 lowering his voice, " there's a good time com 
 ing, and England will yet be free. I would 
 now advise that if the clergyman permits us 
 to bury the body here, her friends shall con 
 sent to allow the ' church service ' to be read, 
 and so end further trouble." 
 
 After some contention, this prudent advice 
 was followed ; it was a triumph for the church. 
 The minister, after a show of hesitation, con 
 sented, and in a few moments afterward he 
 was heard in sonorous tones consigning to 
 the grave " the body of our deceased sister," 
 and she was thus laid in the same earth with 
 her mouldering relatives. 
 
 While tliis ceremony was taking place, and 
 while most of those present stood around the 
 grave, the constables formed a circle about 
 that of the hild, two men tossed aside the 
 mound, and commenced to disinter the body. 
 These proceedings were not noticed for some 
 time ; but soon word was passed from one to 
 another, and the incensed father, followed by 
 a hundred others, rushed upon the constables, 
 and in less than a minute three or four of 
 them were bleeding profusely, and the two 
 men who had been digging at the grave were 
 leveled to the earth and shouting for mercy. 
 Sticks and stones were flying in all directions ; 
 one fellow was seen tramping furiously on 
 the minister's hat, while another tore his 
 surplice into ribbons. The parson however 
 was strong in the faith, and though pressed 
 back, step by step, by the reckless crowd, he 
 feared no mob, but continued to urge the 
 police to support his authority. At this 
 juncture, some one with truer aim than the 
 rest flung a large sod at the head of his 
 reverence, and he was seen to tumble back 
 ward across the little grave which had been 
 already violated by his orders. 
 
 The scene at this time was one of great con 
 fusion ; yells, oaths, threats, and even blows 
 were still heard, just as if a legion of demons 
 had been let loose among the tombs. The 
 constables were powerless, their main effort 
 now seemed to be to protect the minister ; 
 but their help to him would have been of 
 little avail, were it not for the old workman 
 who had spoken at the gate, and a few others. 
 The parson was with some difficulty dragged 
 away from the place, the constables retired, 
 but the crowd remained, and the triumph this 
 time was with the people. Samuel Styles, who 
 had witnessed the whole proceedings, was 
 now thoroughly disgusted ; he had often heard 
 and read -of similar scenes, but he had no idea 
 that such clerical intolerance would be at 
 tempted in England at that period of the 
 nineteenth century. He had now seen enough 
 of it in one day to last him for life ; and a 
 rumor having spread that the constables would 
 
 return with reinforcements, he left the " con 
 secrated ground " and place of contest. That 
 night, while sitting in the large room of the 
 Red Lion, the principal theme was the innate 
 tyranny of priestcraft. 
 
 Early next morning the papers teemed with 
 conflicting accounts of the proceedings at the 
 cemetery ; and journals in the interest of the 
 church commented vehemently on the savage 
 outrage which had been perpetrated by a 
 heathenish mob against a " defenseless ser 
 vant of God." There was no word of extenu 
 ation in these religious papers for the outraged 
 feelings of the people. Clerical correspondents 
 suggested that some immediate action must 
 be taken ; a line of demarkation should be 
 drawn in every cemetery to distinguish the 
 " faithful " from dissenters. Some argued that 
 a dividing wall should be built in each church 
 yard, others thought a hedge might answer, 
 while others would be content with a gravel 
 walk ; it would be quite sufficient to enable 
 all to distinguish where lay those who had 
 been blessed by England, or cursed by Rome, 
 damned by dissent, or saved by the State 
 Church. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 MR. CAPEL had been absent several days, 
 and had visited every station on the circuit. 
 In his missionary wanderings, he traveled 
 through a picturesque country, rich in land 
 scape scenery, reminding him of the rock and 
 river and mountain of his native land. He 
 passed by pleasant meadows, where lazy cattle 
 fed and rested, scarcely moving at his ap 
 proach. He rode through shaded lanes, fra 
 grant from hawthorn blossoms on either side ; 
 then by some quaint old place which had 
 given a page to history ; by little brooks and 
 shining rivers ; by woodman's cottage, nest 
 ling among trees ; and then he wound around 
 some grassv hill-slope, towering above which 
 might be 'seen a hoary, crumbling castle, 
 crouching under the sheltering ivy, as if wait 
 ing for the final stroke of time. Yet, attractive 
 as these would have been to him at other 
 times, he scarcely glanced at the magnificent 
 grouping ; he was in deep thought, thinking 
 of what he had lately read ; and during his 
 abstraction, the horse walked slowly along, 
 often even stopping to pluck at the fresh 
 grass which grew by the road-side. Now and 
 then he would arouse, and urge his beast 
 onward ; he would look around for some 
 object on which to feast his eye, in order to 
 rid himself of doubts and harassing specula 
 tions ; but while seemingly intent on some pic 
 ture of rustic scenery, or at the commingling 
 of shadow and sunlight beneath the rough 
 branches of some old oak, he would relapse 
 again, and again his thoughts would wander 
 away, away, far from their wonted track, and 
 then return but to transform into hideous 
 images the ideas which he once considered so 
 fair and beautiful. 
 
 It was only when he was actively engaged 
 among the people to whom he was sent that 
 he, in a measure, got rid of this embarrass 
 ment ; and he applied himself perseveringly.
 
 He tried to obtain a fair knowledge of tlie 
 wants, wishes, and mental status of the peo 
 ple among whom he was destined for a time 
 to labor. He was very punctual in his minis 
 tration; preached once, and often twice, each 
 day, and was diligent in the performance of 
 his other duties. For the time, he devoted 
 himself very assiduously to these matters, and 
 tried hard to think of little else. He found 
 Methodism there much like what it was in 
 Ireland ; but the people were rather more de 
 monstrative in their religious exercises, ac 
 cepting the peculiarities of their creed as 
 pure gospel, and rarely ever doubting the 
 propriety of any rite, doctrine, or ex]M)sition 
 b.-aring the sanction of the revered Wesley. 
 Indeed, the credulity of some would have 
 approved of any absurdity, provided it had 
 his indorsation, thus acting like thousands 
 who continue to pin their faith to the sleeve 
 of others. 
 
 Mr. Capel kept busy ; every suitable mo 
 ment was one of industry. He wished to 
 ascertain the state of religion on the circuit ; 
 to know the state of every class, and the quali 
 fication of every class-leader ; was particular 
 to learn who were the most exemplary mem 
 bers ; gave a word of encouragement to some, 
 and a suitable rebuke to backsliders. But 
 ah ! the thought then came, Who was it that 
 might yet rebuke him ? Even here, among 
 the few who had once been faithful, there 
 stepped aside out of the beaten track daring 
 skeptics. He had heard of this, and felt alarm 
 ed lest even he, the preacher, should yet fol 
 low them in their terrible descent. Still he 
 worked ; he did not want to think ; he had 
 been near the precipice, and had just looked 
 over its dreadful brink, and shrunk back, as if 
 fearful that some sudden impulse would urge 
 him to destruction. 
 
 For nearly a week he thus struggled with 
 the mutiny of his own thoughts thoughts 
 that would obtrude themselves ; frightful 
 forms, which he tried to hurl into oblivion. 
 But the trial came at last ; he could be ac 
 tive during the day, he could then form sage 
 resolutions to cling forever to the ark in which 
 so great a number had found refuge, and 
 which had borne him thus far through storm 
 and sunshine so safely and pleasantly. He 
 would pray more would urge the Lord 
 would assuredly find the promised help, would 
 find more strength to resist, and more determi 
 nation to follow on in the narrow way, with 
 out looking to the right hand or left, until he 
 attained " eternal life." Thus it was with him 
 in the busy daytime ; but then came the night 
 night again, with its shadows not a time 
 for him of quiet contemplation or calm repose, 
 but a season for wild conjectures and fevered 
 dreams, and for alternate feelings of hope and 
 despair. Now, again, came those thoughts 
 which one by one sought to rob him of some 
 treasured idea, some glittering little idol that 
 he worshiped from infancy. Why was he 
 troubled thus, why doubtful of the Word of 
 Lite ? Could he not be content with evidences 
 and assurances that had satisfied a Wesley, 
 a Whitefield, a Clark or a Paley ? He had read 
 and re-read their learned expositions, and now 
 by such aid he sought to banish those obtru 
 
 sive fancies which kept him restless and wa 
 vering ; but those expositions, once considered 
 so lucid and satisfactory, had now, alas! for 
 him, degenerated into mere assumptions, or 
 speculation. He had all his life been hearing 
 and reading one side of a history, and had but 
 just glanced at the other side, to find that 
 that structure, the erection of which had ta 
 ken centuries, was already crumbling to ruins. 
 He would lie awake thinking of his conversa 
 tions with Mr. Mannors, of the history of 
 Christianity, of its rapacity and persecution ; 
 of Romish and English popes, and of their 
 respective state-churches ; of the wealth and 
 blood that had been expended to secure their 
 establishment, and of the salaried armies of 
 bishops, priests, and preachers yet required to 
 keep the world from relapsing into paganism. 
 
 Against this array, Science had now lifted 
 its mighty arm. Reason was boldly assert 
 ing its rights, while Truth was silently point 
 ing to the throne from which it had long been 
 excluded by an usurper. There was the " In 
 spired Word" which he had been taught to 
 revere, and which had for centuries been held 
 in awe by multitudes, now treated by the in 
 telligence of the age as a myth. The "sa 
 cred" narrative had been subjected to impious 
 criticism, and its assertions tested, like those 
 of any other book, by Reason and Philosophy. 
 How had it stood the test ? Thousands had 
 thrown it aside as worthless. Should he do 
 so, might he not make a fatal mistake? He 
 was taught to believe that the greatest attain 
 ment of reason was to know that there was 
 an infinity of knowledge beyond its limits. 
 Might not this knowledge be centred in the 
 Bible, and might not erring, presumptuous 
 man misinterpret its teachings ? But why 
 misinterpret ?- why, if written for man's 
 guidance and instruction, should it be so con 
 tradictory to reason ? why should it so bewil 
 der both wayfaring man and philosopher ? 
 He had expressed to Mr. Mannors a will 
 ingness to investigate the Bible, and he 
 had scarcely commenced before he became 
 startled, and was almost ready to recede. He 
 had already discovered enough to leave him 
 in a labyrinth of doubt and perplexity. 
 
 He found that there was no evidence to 
 show that the books said to have been written 
 by Moses were ever penned by him ; on the 
 contrary, there was the most conclusive proof 
 within their own pages to establish that they 
 were the production of other persons, hun 
 dreds of years after the death of their reputed 
 author 1 Had they been written b.T Moses, 
 they could have contained no descriptive ac 
 count of his own death and burial ; they would 
 not have been written in the third person, as, 
 " The Lord said unto Moses " " Moses 
 said unto the people ;" nor would he have re 
 ferred to himself in the fulsome terms mention 
 ed in Numbers, 12th chapter, 3d verse: 
 " Now the man, Moses, was very meek above 
 all the men which were upon the face of the 
 earth." But the most positive evidence 
 against the assumption that Moses was the 
 writer is the numerous anachronisms which 
 occur. Moses is made to relate in the past 
 tense events which did not happen in his life 
 time, nor indeed for centuries afterward
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 The poor plea can not be made that he was 
 speaking prophetically ; it is a plain relation 
 of occurrences, said to have taken place 
 previous to the time of their record. In the 
 14th chapter of Genesis, there is an account 
 of how Lot was taken prisoner in battle and 
 carried off, and that Abraham and his follow 
 ers marched to rescue him, and followed his 
 captors as far as Dan. Now there was no 
 place known as Dan in the Bible until over 
 800 years after the reputed death of Moses ; 
 consequently, it would be as absurd to state 
 that Moses mentioned such a place as it would 
 be to assert that a writer of Shakespeare's time 
 had mentioned an incident of Waterloo. 
 Thus, concerning the burial of Moses, the 
 writer states, " And he buried him in a valley 
 in the land of Moab, over against Beth- 
 peor : but no man knoweth of his sepulchre 
 unto this day." 
 
 "And there arose not a prophet since in 
 Israel like unto Moses." 
 
 The 36th chapter of Genesis gives the gene 
 alogy of the descendants of Esau called 
 " Edomites," and a list of these kings ; and the 
 81st verse says, " And these are the kings that 
 reigned in Edom before there reigned any king 
 over the children of Israel." These passages 
 could not have been written by Moses. The 
 latter verse must have been written at least 
 after the time of David; there were no kings 
 in Israel in the days of Moses, consequently 
 the writer of that particular passage must 
 have lived in the time of King David, or 
 during a subsequent reign ; for if at this pres 
 ent day a writing without date should be dis 
 covered, and which, in speaking of past events, 
 should say that such and such an occurrence 
 took place during the reign of Queen Victoria, 
 the inference as to the writer would of course 
 be, that he lived and wrote after her acces 
 sion. 
 
 These texts, then, are proof positive that 
 Moses was not the writer ; that they either 
 must be interpolations which, to get rid of 
 the difficulty, some would admit or the whole 
 book is an anonymous tradition of absurd 
 ities. 
 
 With regard to the other books said to have 
 been written by Moses, similar evidence can 
 be had in abundance, to prove he was not the 
 writer. In Exodus, 16th chapter, and 35th 
 verse, it is said : " And the children of Israel 
 did eat manna forty years, until they came to 
 a land inhabited ; they did eat manna, until 
 they came unto the borders of the land of Ca 
 naan." As this account extends beyond the 
 life of Moses, it is plain that he could not 
 have related it. 
 
 The curious instance in Deuteronomy, 3d 
 chapter, verse 11, shows the fabulous notions 
 which prevailed at the time. One concerning 
 a race of giants says : " For only Og, king of 
 Bashan, remained of the remnant of giants ; 
 behold his bedstead was a bedstead of iron, is 
 it not in Rabbath of the children of Aiumon ? 
 nine cubits was the length thereof, and four 
 cubits the breadth of it, after the cubit of a 
 man." 
 
 According to this measurement, the bed- 
 Btead was over 16 feet in length, and more 
 than seven feet wide. This singular relation 
 
 could not have been made by Moses, for he 
 knew nothing of Rabbath, nor of what was 
 in it. It was not a city owned by this giant. 
 The knowledge, therefore, that this bedstead 
 was at Rabbath, and the particulars of its di 
 mensions, must be referred to the period when 
 Rabbath was taken, which was not until 400 
 years after the death of Moses, according to 
 2d Samuel, 12th chapter, 26th verse: "And 
 Joab fought against Rabbath of the children 
 of Ammon, and took the royal city." News 
 was then sent to King David ; and the 29th 
 verse says that " he gathered all the people 
 together, and went to Rabbath and fought 
 against it and took it ;" and then, after robbing 
 the king of his crown, and sacking the city, 
 a proof of King David's lovirgkindness and 
 tender mercy toward the miserable inhabi 
 tants is given in the 30th verse : 
 
 "And he brought forth the people that 
 were therein, and put them under saws, and 
 under harrows of iron, and under axes of iron, 
 and made them pass through the brick-kiln ; 
 and thus did he unto ALL the cities of the 
 children of Ammon. So David and the peo 
 ple returned to Jerusalem." 
 
 If such infamous brutalities could possibly 
 meet the approval of a merciful God, it must 
 have been the savage and revengeful Deity of 
 the Jews, not the more humane and consider 
 ate God of the Gentiles. 
 
 The same objections that are urged against 
 the credibility of the books of Moses, or the 
 Pentateuch, also appear against the book said 
 to have been written by Joshua, as well as 
 against many other of the strange books which 
 compose the Bible. In the 24th chapter, 29th 
 and following verses, he is made to give an 
 account of hu own death and burial, and of 
 events which followed. 
 
 An astonishing fact respecting the books 
 of Moses shows that the first certain trace 
 of the Pentateuch in its present form was 
 when one Hilkiah, a priest, said he had found 
 the book of the law in the house of the Lord. 
 This discovery is said to have been made as 
 late as 624 years before Christ. The finding 
 caused a great sensation. The alarmed mon 
 arch, King Josiah, " rent his clothes," went to 
 the temple, and read " all the words of the 
 book ;" and a great reformation immediately 
 commenced. It is evident that if these books 
 of Moses had been previously known to the 
 Jews, they would not have manifested such 
 surprise and alarm upon their discovery by 
 Hilkiah. That discovery stands upon his mere 
 assertion. He might have written " the book 
 of the law" himself, or, if there were any 
 ancient records that he knew of, he might 
 have made such alterations as he pleased ; it is 
 evident, however, that at that period there was 
 but one copy of the law in existence, the va 
 lidity of which depended entirely upon the 
 veracity of this priest. The story is o be 
 found in the 34th chapter of 2d Chronicles. 
 
 Here, therefore, appears a strange contradic 
 tion. We are told in 31st chapter of Deuter 
 onomy that about 1450 years before Christ, 
 when Moses, it is said, made an end of writing 
 the words of the law in a book, he said to the 
 Levites, " Take this book of the law and put 
 it in the side of the Ark of the Covenant of the
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 Lord yotir God, that it may be there to witness 
 against you." Now if this book of the law 
 was faithfully kept with that reverential care 
 which the Jews are said to have had for it, why 
 was it not in the same ark 450 years after 
 ward, at the time the great temple is said to 
 have been dedicated by Solomon '! It was not 
 then to be found, and no mention is made of 
 such a book ; for in the 8th chapter of 1st 
 book of Kings, it is said : " There was nothing 
 in the Ark save the two tables of stone which 
 Moses put there at Horeb." 
 
 It is impossible to reconcile these discrepan 
 cies. Errors of this kind implanted in a book 
 claiming to be inspired seriously affect the 
 credibility of the whole. But why should an 
 almost unknown barbarous tribe like the an 
 cient Jews be the sole recipients of favors and 
 communications from the Deity ? As a race, 
 they were perhaps the most vindictive, cruel, 
 and blood-thirsty monsters tliat ever lived ; 
 their God was but the reflection of themselves, 
 and their law-giver Moses, called meek, possess 
 ed such a character as the civilization of the 
 present day would pronounce thoroughly cruel 
 nnd depraved. His first prominent act was the 
 deliberate murder of an Egyptian, whom he 
 buried in the sand ; and afterward he was the 
 hero of a number of murders and robberies 
 almost too dreadful to recite ; and the writings 
 which bear his sanction are records of fearful 
 atrocity. While assuming to teach his coun- 
 rymen purer doctrines, and a more correct no 
 tion of a Divine Being, he followed the exam 
 ple of surrounding nations by the slaughter 
 of poor dumb brutes, as a sacrifice to appease 
 the imaginary wrath of his Deity. He in 
 cited the Jews to be faithless and implacable 
 to their enemies, and to rob and murder them 
 whenever an opportunity offered. Not only 
 was he cruel to strangers, but by his com 
 mands, death was the penalty to his own peo 
 ple for comparatively trivial offenses, as well 
 as for a difference of opinion with regard to 
 worship. 
 
 In Leviticus, 24th chapter, 13th to 16th 
 verses, there is an evidence of great disregard 
 for human life: " And the Lord spake unto 
 Moses, saying, Bring forth him that hath 
 cursed without the camp, and let all that heard 
 him lay their hands upon his head, and let all 
 the congregation stone him." " And he that 
 blasphemeth the name of the Lord, he shall 
 surely be, put to denth, and till the congrega 
 tion shall certainly stone him ; as well the 
 stranger as he that is born in the land, when 
 he blasphemeth the name of the Lord, shall 
 be put to death." 
 
 The 18th chapter of Deuteronomy, 6th to 
 9th verses, contains a sad proof of the intol 
 erance and inhumanity prevailing among 
 " God's chosen people." 
 
 " If thy brother, the eon of thy mother, or 
 thy son, or thy daughter, or the wife of thy 
 bosom, or thy friend which is as thine own 
 soul, entice thee secretly, saying, Let us go 
 and serve other gods which thou hast not 
 known, thou nor thy fathers ; namely, the 
 gods of the people which are round about 
 you, niurh unto thee, or far off from thee, from 
 the one end of the earth, even unto the other 
 
 end of the earth, thou shalt not consent 
 unto him nor hearken unto him ; neither 
 shall thine eye pity him. neither shalt thou 
 spare, neither shalt thou conceal him. But 
 thou shalt surely kill him ; thy hand shall be 
 first to put him to death, and afterward the 
 hand of nil the people." Will the liberality 
 of the nineteenth century accept of such teach 
 ing? The bloody code of Draco was mildness 
 in comparison. 
 
 The "divine law-giver," Moses, also incul 
 cated revenge by numerous precepts, as in 
 Deuteronomy, 19th chapter, 21st verse : " And 
 thine eye shall not pity ; but life shall go for 
 ! life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for 
 hand, foot for foot." 
 
 His savage treatment of enemies was most 
 frightful. In the 7th chapter, 2d verse : " And 
 when the Lord thy God shall deliver them 
 (their enemies) before thee, thou shalt smite 
 them and utterly destroy them ; thou shalt 
 make no covenant with them, nor show mercy 
 unto them." 
 
 A fearful instance of butchery by the com 
 mand of Moses is given in Numbers, 31st chap 
 ter, from 13th verse. The Jewish army were 
 sent to " avenge" themselves of the Midiau 
 ites ; to effect this, they slew " ALL the males," 
 together with five of the kings of Midian. The 
 women and children were taken as captives, 
 their cities were burnt, aud their cattle, flocks, 
 and goods taken as spoil. Upon the return 
 of these chosen avengers, with their captives 
 and prey, " Moses and Eleazar the priest, and 
 all the princes of the congregation, went forth 
 to meet them without the camp." " And 
 Moses was wroth with the officers of the host, 
 with the captains over thousands, and cap 
 tains over hundreds which came from the 
 battle." 
 
 " And Moses said unto them, Have ye saved 
 all the women alive V " Behold these caused 
 the children of Israel, through the council of 
 Balaam, to commit trespass against the Lord 
 in the matter of Peor, aud there was a plague 
 among the congregation of the Lord." 
 
 " Now, therefore, kill every male among the 
 little ones, and kill every woman that hath 
 known man by lying with him : but all the 
 women children that have not known a man 
 by lying with him, keep Mveforyourseli:i-s." 
 
 Humanity shudders to think thai such an 
 atrocious command could be given bj one di 
 vinely appointed ; yet it is orthodox, and 
 meets the approval of' Christian priests unto 
 the present day, even this murder and de 
 bauchery ! 
 
 The Mosaic account of the creation, and the 
 Mosaic cosmogony in general, are singularly 
 false, leading to the grossest errors and ab 
 surdities, and contradictory to well-established 
 principles of modern science. In this account, 
 it is said that light was created on the first 
 day; that grass, herbs, and fruit trees were 
 created and made to grow on the third day ; 
 while the SUN, the only source of natural 
 light, and the great agent of vegetation, was 
 not made until the fourth day. 
 
 Now, there could not have been an evening, 
 or a morning, or a first, second, or third day. 
 without the natural revolution of the earth ,
 
 78 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 neither could there have been any vegetable 
 growth, to cause a tree to grow and yield seed, 
 without its direct influence. 
 
 The 14th verse of the first chapter of Gen 
 esis says : " And God said, Let there be lights 
 in the firmament of heaven, to divide the day 
 from the night, and let them be for signs, and 
 for seasons, and for days, and years." 
 
 Yet three days and three nights had al 
 ready passed without a single planetary revo 
 lution. The account states that on the fourth 
 day the stars were made also, merely " to give 
 light upon the earth." How different to what 
 astronomy has proved! Sir J. Hergchel, in his 
 philosophical transactions, proves that some of 
 the nebulae are at such an immense distance 
 from the earth that their light, traveling at 
 the rate of 200,000 miles in a second could 
 not have reached the earth in less than about 
 two millions of years. Later discoveries of 
 Lord Kosse fully corroborate the estimate, and 
 it is now well established that thousands of 
 stars, which Scripture asserts were made as if 
 but " to give light upon the earth," are in re 
 ality SUNS to other systems, so vast as to re 
 duce our solar system, by comparison, to al 
 most insignificance. 
 
 After the creation of fishes, fowl, and great 
 whales on t\ie fifth day, the beginning of the 
 sixth day was devoted to the production of 
 cattle, creeping things, and beasts of the 
 earth ; and then God said, " Let us make 
 man in our image, after our likeness, and let 
 them have dominion," etc., etc. The plural 
 number is introduced into this verse as appli 
 cable to both God and man. 
 
 So God created man in his own image, in 
 the image of God created he him ; male and 
 female, created he them. And God blessed 
 them ; and God said unto them, be fruitful and 
 multiply," etc , etc. The 27th verse of the 
 first chapter of Genesis, above recited, declares 
 in positive terms that God created man male 
 and female ; and this is confirmed in the next 
 verse, when they were blessed and bid be fruit 
 ful. It is evident from this, that God was ad 
 dressing Adam and his wife, whom he had just 
 created. 
 
 The 30th verse states : " And to every beast 
 of the earth, and to every fowl of the air, and 
 to every thing that creepeth upon the earth, 
 wherein there is life, I have given every green 
 herb for meat ; and it was so." This is direct 
 ly at variance with what is known of the 
 habits of animals of prey, which are nearly all 
 carnivorous. Naturalists have proved that 
 such animals can only exist by feeding on 
 flesh. The lion, tiger, wolf, and other animals 
 would quickly perish if left to the sole sus- 
 tentation of green herbs for the text includes 
 every animal. 
 
 The chapter thus concludes : "And God saw 
 every thing that he had made, and behold it 
 was very good. And the evening and the mor 
 ning were the sixth day." 
 
 The second chapter begins with the decla r a- 
 tion : " Thus the heavens and earth were 
 finished, and all the host of them. And on the 
 seventh day God ended his work which lie 
 had made, and he rested on the seventh day 
 from all his work which lie had made." The 
 creation, therefore, was finished ; God had pro 
 
 nounced every thing very good, and rested from 
 his labor. 
 
 Great surprise has been manifested by many, 
 anxious to believe the Scriptures, that the plai'n 
 statement respecting the creation of man 
 male and female, in the first chapter, should 
 be as plainly contradicted in the second. In 
 this latter chapter, we are told that, after the 
 creation, God "took the man and put him into 
 the garden of Eden, to dress it and ke-p it ; 
 but at the same time forbade him to eat the 
 fruit of one particular tree, after having pre 
 viously told him that every tree " yielding 
 seed" should be to him " for' meat." And the 
 Lord said, " It is not good that the man should 
 be alone,, I will make him an helpmeet for him." 
 A deep sleep then fell upon Adam, aiid, while 
 in that state, the story says : " that one of his 
 ribs was taken out, and God made a woman of 
 it"! 
 
 From this, it appears, that, although in the 
 first chapter, God made man male and female, 
 and even addressed them as in the text, yet, in 
 
 the next chapter, after God had ended his work 
 and rested, no woman had been created until 
 he made one out of Adam's rib ! A tradition 
 so inconsistent would be readily treated as a 
 myth by any others but those who seem deter- 
 
 | mined to believe all and every thing included 
 in the Bible. 
 
 The 2d verse of the 5th chapter of Genesis is 
 confirmatory of the firnt account of the crea 
 tion of man : thus "male and female created 
 he them, and blessed them, and he called their 
 name Adam" in the day when they were created. 
 
 Another inconsistency appears as to the sat 
 isfaction which the biblical Creator derived 
 from his own work. The first chapter of the 
 Bible records that he pronounced every thing 
 he had made very good ; in the sixth chapter, 
 after having discovered the great wickedness 
 of man, the record says : " And it repented the 
 Lord that he had made man on the earth, and it 
 grieved him at his heart." 
 
 Truly the prescience and omniscience of th 
 Mosaic Deity must have been very circum 
 scribed ; and his instability, his repentance 
 and his grief like unto those same frailties of 
 mortals ! 
 
 The account of the " fall " is one which 
 hns sorely puzzled the best and wisest " di 
 vines." Adam, whom the Lord had but just 
 pronounced perfect, falls at the very first temp, 
 tation, and his posterity are unjustly cursed 
 and degraded by the commission of that act. 
 
 If Adam was not perfect, it seems like 
 trifling with human infirmity to place him in 
 such a position as to be unable to resist the 
 inducement to sin ; for it was not until after 
 he had committed the offense that he was able 
 to discern between good and evil. 
 
 For eating this apple, Adam was expelled 
 from Paradise, and condemned to earn liis 
 bread by the sweat of his brow ; his wife was 
 cursed, and both made sinful and unhappy ; 
 
 the ground was cursed, and ordered to pro 
 duce thorns and thistles ; and a special male 
 diction was pronounced aguinst the serpent : 
 " upon thy belly thou shalt go, and dust thou 
 ehalt eat all the days of thy life." 
 
 The question arises, if the serpent was then 
 cursed, it must have previously had seme other
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 means of locomotion. In what way did it 
 travel, as serpents were never known to have 
 had legs ? It had never eaten dust, neither 
 does it at the present day. The whole story 
 has been pronounced most absurd, and com 
 mentators have been at their wits' end to ren 
 der it plausible, or, as having been derived 
 from "inspiration." 
 
 The learned expositor, Dr. Clarke, has sug 
 gested that it might have been an APE that 
 tempted our first mother ! To such an extrem 
 ity has learning and intelligence ever been re 
 duced, when submitting to the incongruities 
 of fiction. 
 
 To hide the nakedness of Adam and Eve, 
 the Lord, it is said, went and made coats of 
 skins, with which he clothed them ! 
 
 The tradition concerning the fall, like many 
 others in the Bible, can be traced to the legends 
 of a more ancient people than the Jews, and to 
 an antiquity far more remote than any record 
 ed in Bible history.* 
 
 Among other curious recitals of the " word 
 of truth" is that of the 2d verse, 6th chap 
 ter of Genesis. " The sons of God (angels) 
 saw the daughters of men that they were fair, 
 and they took them wives of all they chose." 
 Here is something for " doctors of divinity." 
 Angels descending to wed the daughters of 
 men ! The Egyptians and Persians have alle 
 gorized the same doctrine, and Thomas Moore 
 has founded his beautiful poem, The Loves of 
 the Angels, on such an idea. 
 
 The depravity of mankind had already be 
 come so great that the Lord determined to 
 rid himself of them. " And the Lord said : I 
 will destroy man whom I have created from 
 the face of the earth, both man and beast, 
 and creeping thing, and the fowls of the air, 
 for it repenteth me that I have made them," 
 verse 7, chap. vi. But Noah having fortu 
 nately found favor, in order to save him and 
 his family, and preserve animal* to stock the 
 earth anew, the Lord commanded him to 
 make a large vessel called the ark ; it was to 
 be about 540 feet long, 90 feet broad, and three 
 stories high made according to specific direc 
 tions from the Deity and a careful estimate 
 has given its capacity as about 90,000 cubic 
 yards. ( 
 
 Noah was then to take seven of every kind 
 of bird, male and female, and seven also of 
 every clean beast ; and two each of every 
 other kind of animal. An orthodox authority 
 gives the number of birds of all kinds at 8000. 
 Seven of each kind, male and female, would 
 make 112,000 birds, and allowing less tlitm 
 one cubic yard to each bird, they alone would 
 more than fill the ark ; for many of the birds 
 of that period were of an immense size. 
 There are 1658 species of beasts, two of each 
 kind would be 3310 ; but then there are 10(5 of 
 
 * See Note F. 
 
 t As to the materials of which the mythical ark of 
 Scripture was composed, learned Christian commen 
 tators have formed various opinions. Thus our mod 
 ern "authorized" version makes it gopher-wood; On- 
 kilhoe, of cedar. The Arabic commentators declare it 
 to be box-wood; the Persians, pine wood. The cele 
 brated Bochart declares it was ebony; Dr. Geddes 
 affirms it to be wicker work ; while the distinguished 
 Christian, Dawson, contends that it was made of bul 
 rushes daubed with slime. 
 
 these clean beasts ; and seven of each of these 
 make 1162; making in all, 4478 beatts large 
 and small. Of reptiles, there are 657. multi 
 plied by two, gives 1314 ; and yet further, of in 
 sects and creeping things there are 750,000 
 various kinds, which, doubled, would make 
 over one and a half millions! An important 
 element in the calculation is yet to be consid 
 ered. Noah was required to put into the ark 
 sufficient food for all the living creatures to be 
 taken. But even to supply grass-eating ani 
 mals alone, numbering about 2000, the ark 
 itself could not contain the quantity requisite. 
 
 Some animals would require flesh, others 
 fish, others grain, others fruit, and others 
 insects. How was it possible to obtain sup 
 plies for all these ? The food necessary for 
 ten or twelve months would make an im 
 mense bulk, far beyond the capacity of the 
 ark ; neither could even a vessel of its size 
 contain the indispensable supply of water, as 
 the ocean of the flood would be s-alt. 
 
 Assuming that the immense collection could 
 be cribbed and confined within the ark, the 
 question then comes, how could they breathe? 
 There was but one small window in the ark, 
 which was closed ; and how could eight per 
 sons only attend to all these animals, and 
 supply them with food and water?* 
 
 But whence the flood itself? The mere rain 
 ing of forty days and nights would be com 
 paratively nothing toward it. The Andes 
 are supposed to be 20,000 feet abo\ e the level 
 of the sea ; the vapors of the atmosphere, if 
 condensed, could not deluge the earth to the 
 height of an ordinary house. Modern geolo 
 gists deny that there ever was, or ever could 
 be, a universal deluge ; the marine shells found 
 on the tops of mountains have been deposited 
 by changes of the earth's surface, and there 
 is proof incontestable that these changes have 
 been produced by the gradual operation of 
 water and heat ; Egyptologists assert that 
 monuments have been found in the valley of 
 the Nile which bear evidence of having been 
 erected at a period long before that assigned 
 to the flood. 
 
 This part of the Mosaic history has been 
 the cause of much embarrassment to profes 
 sional theologians ; numerous explanatory the 
 ories have been formed but to confound each 
 other ; and many intelligent Christians have 
 wished that such a record had never existed. 
 The Rev. Dr. Pye Smith admits that 
 " the flood could not be universal," that it 
 could not have " resulted in the destruction of 
 all animal life," and " that, connecting the 
 question with physical causes, it appeared to 
 him, that unless we resorted to miraculous 
 agency (against which he protested) it was im 
 possible to imagine the ark capable of con 
 taining parts of all the animals whose exist- 
 
 * Bishop Wilkins tries to get rid of the difficulty by 
 " reducing the number of species ," but the 19th and 
 remaining verses of the 6th chapter of Genesis are 
 conclusive as to the meaning and intention of the an 
 gry Deity according to his " Inspired Word." There 
 was to have been two saved ol every sort, of every 
 living thing, of all flesh plain enough in this case for 
 a " wayfaring man." Assuming, however, that there 
 had been a flood, and that almost every living thing 
 on land had been destroyed, the deluge could not have 
 affected the inhabitants of the "great deep." AU 
 THOR.
 
 80 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 ence must depend entirely upon their exemp 
 tion from inundation." Then, having detailed 
 the great variety of species in the animal 
 creation, he admits the impossibility of stow 
 ing them in the ark. 
 
 The great Dr. Burnet says that the quan 
 tity of water it would take to cover the high 
 est mountains, " must at least exceed the mag 
 nitude of eight oceans ;"' that no sucli quan 
 tity could be found, CT, if found, ever remov 
 ed, and that, therefore, " our present earth 
 was not subject to a deluge, nor is it capable 
 of it by its shape or elevation." (Archeol. Phi- 
 los. chapter iv. p. 40.) 
 
 Scientific evidence bears so strongly against 
 the theory of a general deluge that the whole 
 story has long been given up by many as 
 being the issue and result of downright ig 
 norance. 
 
 After the subsidence of the flood, the Lord 
 made another covenant, and promised not to 
 destroy the earth again by a deluge, and " set 
 his bow in the cloud for a token." Again, 
 science confutes this rainbow novelty, and 
 proves that there has always been rain and 
 sunshine, and that the rainbow had not then 
 appeared in the heavens for the./?r* time. 
 
 Passing the strange relation about the 
 tower of Babel, and the confusion of tongues, 
 the discrepancies in the accounts of how Abra 
 ham made his wife appear as his sister, we find 
 that the destruction of the flood having failed 
 in its expected results, the Lord appears again 
 as a destroyer. He visits Abraham in his tent 
 upon the plains of Mamre accompanied by 
 two angels. It seems his foreknowledge was 
 at fault ; for he came to try and find out 
 whether the iniquity of Sodom was as great 
 as had been represented. " I will go down 
 now, and see whether they have done alto- 
 together according to the cry of it which is 
 come unto me ; and if not, I will know." The 
 Lord and his heavenly messengers having 
 had their feet washed, and having partaken of 
 refreshments cakes, butter, milk, and veal 
 made a promise to Sarah, then a very old wo 
 man, that she should have a son ; and one to 
 Abraham, that he would not destroy Sodom, 
 provided ten righteous persons were found in 
 it, and took his departure ! This account is to 
 be found in the 18th chapter of Genesis, and 
 portrays tbe Lord and his attendants in every 
 respect as very like ordinary mortals. 
 
 In the continuation of the history of mur 
 ders, which forms such a large portion of the 
 Old Testament, the 10th chapter of the book 
 of Joshua contains a record of that great mir 
 acle, the standing still of the sun and moon. 
 The slaughter of the nations around them 
 eems to have been a favori-e pastime of the 
 " chosen people." Joshua was their leader 
 after Moses, and he did not fail to indulge 
 and encourage the pious recreation of exter 
 minating the " enemies of the Lord." 
 
 The men of Gibeon having sent for aid to 
 Joshua, against the Amorites, he went out 
 with his mighty men to give them battle. 
 There were five kings to be overcome ; but the 
 Lord, as usual, promised ' his people" the vic 
 tory. The slaughter c< mmenced at Gibeon ; 
 and as the poor wretches fled for their lives, 
 " ihe Lord cast down great atones from hea 
 
 ven upon them, unto Azekah, and they died." 
 But leet the day should not be long enough 
 to complete the butchery, then spake Joshua : 
 Sun, stand thou still upcn Gibeon, and thou, 
 moon, in the valley of Ajalon. And the 
 sun stood still, and the mcon staid until the 
 people had avenged themselves upon their 
 enemies. Is not this written in the bcok of 
 JASIIER ? " So the sun stood still in the midst 
 of heaven, and hasted not to go down about 
 a whole dtiy." 
 
 Had such an event ever occurred as the sud 
 den stopping of the earth in its swilt revolu 
 tion, every living being, and every work of 
 man upon its surface would have been instant 
 ly destroyed ; even the earth itself would fly 
 into fragments. Yet it is known that there 
 are buildings now standing in Fgyj.t erected 
 before the alleged time of Joshua. Were it 
 possible that the sun or moon could have stood 
 still, such an extraordinary event would have 
 been known over the whole world ; yet neither 
 in China, India, Persia, or Egypt, moie ancient 
 countries, where astronomy was studied, is 
 there any mention made of it. The narrative 
 was never penned by such a person as Joshua ; 
 for the unknown scribe quotes the book of 
 JASHER as authority to corroborate the mi 
 racle ! This book of Jasher was then consider 
 ed as one of the " inspired" books, and as it 
 was not written until the time of the kings, 
 centuries after the death of Joishua, he coxild 
 not have been the writer. The book of Jctsher, 
 like many others still quoted in the Bible, has 
 long been enumerated among the lout look* of 
 Scripture ; it can not now be found. 
 
 This is another of the so-called miracles that 
 theologians would be gladly rid of. There is 
 no concurring testimony respecting it. In bar 
 barous ages, every pretender was a miracle- 
 worker, and this particular one has been foist 
 ed into the " word of truth" by some one igno 
 rant of the first principles of astronomy. 
 
 The whole story is a fable, a relic of seme 
 ancient myth, on which are founded so many 
 of the Bible miracles, to eclipte science and 
 common sense, and to cast a shadow over rea 
 eon and intelligence. 
 
 As a further proof of the humane disposition 
 of the people of God, the story continues, that 
 after the great slaughter, the five kings \\ho 
 had taken refuge in a cave weie diagged out 
 by order of Joshua. He said, " Come near, put 
 your feet upon the necks of these kings. And 
 they came near, and put their feet upon the 
 necks of them." " And afterward Joshua smote 
 them, and slew them, and hanged them on five 
 trees, and they were hanging upon the trees 
 until the evening." 
 
 Not satisfied with the bloodshed of this 
 notable day, he went on smiting ; he took sev 
 en other kings, which he treated to the same 
 kind of death. " So Joshua tmote all the 
 country of the hills, and of the south, and of 
 the vale, and of the springs, and all their 
 kings: he left ncne remaining, but utterly 
 destroyed all that breathed, as the Lord God 
 of Israel commanded." 
 
 The next chapter continues the fearful rec 
 ord ; even the poor brutes taken Irom the ene 
 my were gashed and JialMilWtg by order of 
 the Lord 1 " And Joshua did unto them as
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 81 
 
 the Lord bade him ; he houghed their horses 
 and burnt their chariots with fire. For it was 
 of the Lord to harden their hearts, that they 
 should come against Israel in battle, that he 
 might destroy them utterly, and that they 
 might have no favor, but that he might de 
 stroy them, as the Lord commanded Moses."* 
 What a frightful picture ! A " benevolent 
 Deity" deliberately hardening the hearts of 
 creatures whom he had created to war with 
 others to whom he was partial ! No wonder 
 that these cruel tales have become so revolt 
 ing, and that humane Christian ministers try 
 to avoid reading them from their pulpits. No 
 wonder that more missionaries are required, 
 and that money is squandered in vain at 
 tempts to bind down humanity and generous 
 impulses to such " truths ;" and it was no won 
 der that Mr. Capel, while he dwelt upon such 
 a history during many a weary night, trying, 
 like many others, to reconcile himself to its 
 belief, was tortured by dreams in uneasy slum 
 bers, and, on awaking, to be shamed by doubts, 
 and to wish himself dead. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THIS was a busy week at Mrs. Baker's, a 
 week of bustling preparation. Not only was 
 there to be the regular class meeting but 
 there was also to be a prayer-meeting every 
 evening during the week, in anticipation of 
 the great anniversary at Exeter Hall. These 
 pious sisters were like light skirmishers in a 
 corps of volunteers, determined to be in ad 
 vance of all others, and to do battle as it were 
 on their own account against the enemies of the 
 Lord. The grand object of this special attack 
 was to gain supplies from the enemy ; and 
 the Lord was to be importuned to loosen the 
 grasp of the miser upon his hoards, the rich 
 man upon his wealth ; and high and low, old 
 and young, were all prayed for in succession, 
 so that abundance might flow into the spirit 
 ual treasury, and that the Bible might be 
 scattered, thick as hail in a storm, among de 
 luded Papists and blind unbelievers. 
 
 Then after these little sorties, the sisters re 
 tired into the cheerful parlor, where trifling 
 chat, the rattle of tea-cups and the fragrance 
 of young Hyson made these religious meet 
 ings so decidedly agreeable. 
 
 Apart from any excellence attributed to re 
 ligion, one of its greatest attractions for 
 woman is the opportunity it affords for pleas 
 ant reunions and social intercourse. How te 
 dious the Sundays would pass were there no 
 place to go, to see and be seen. Christian, or 
 rather intensely Protestant Christian laws and 
 customs, have made it improper and unpopu 
 lar, even sometimes actually criminal, to de 
 vote any part of that sombre day either to 
 
 * Among the terrible scenes of pious butchery re 
 corded of " God's people," few can exceed in barbarity 
 that related in the 2d Book of Kings, chapter xv. 
 verse 16. 
 
 " Then Menahem smote Tiphsah, and all that were 
 therein, and the coasts thereof from Tirzah : because 
 they opened not to him, therefore he smote it ; and 
 all the women therein Mat, v<s~t with "hUd HB KIPPED 
 
 OP!" 
 
 science, secular discussions, or convivial meet 
 ings. The ding dong of bells on the early 
 Sabbath has a reviving effect in a community 
 thus deprived ; even going to church is a 
 relaxation. Those who have lived apart dur 
 ing the week have now a chance of meeting 
 some old friend the maiden her lover, the 
 youth a companion. There is a quiet pleasure 
 in being able to look around upon an orderly, 
 well-dressed assemblage of worshipers, to 
 see a display of fashion, to hear fine music, 
 and to sit in somniferous ease, while the well- 
 trained minister performs in peculiar clerical 
 tones the religious service ; which, whether 
 rendered at the shrine of Moses, or Mohammed 
 would be a matter of indifference to many 
 were it only popular. 
 
 To woman, religion offers free scope for use 
 fulness. She is foolishly debarred from inter 
 ference in most other matters ; she is made a 
 child in intellect, arid denied a profession ; she 
 is lampooned in politics, and ridiculed as a 
 sage ; and though the church ignores her as a 
 teacher, yet she is placed on an equality as a 
 co-worker for ita support ; and to her powerful 
 aid, religion in every land is indebted for its 
 greatest supplies, and for its numerous adher 
 ents. 
 
 Mrs. Manners was one among the number 
 who went heart and soul into the work. She 
 was a believer of the right kind. For her, 
 there was nothing outside Christianity worth 
 living for ; she believed that she had" an im 
 portant part to perform, and now she never 
 felt so contented as when actively engaged in 
 some religious duty. She also felt that while 
 her husband was without the ark of safety, it 
 behooved her to redouble her ezertions on his 
 account, whereby she might propitiate God in 
 his favor ; for, although hopeful of his conver 
 sion, she would relax no effort until it was ac 
 complished. 
 
 She had been at Mrs. Baker's all the week ; 
 she took but little interest, in her house 
 hold affairs ; every night she had a spiritual 
 dream, and every day she formed new plans 
 in order to accomplish the conversion of sin 
 ners ; and now, as the Bible cause was about to 
 receive a fresh impulse, she would wait for 
 the return of Mr. Baker and Mr. Capel, and 
 then s e and her class-mates in a body would 
 go with them to Exeter Hall. She could re 
 main from home safely, for she could depend 
 upon one trusty servant, and she knew that 
 Miss Manners was quite competent to see 
 after the wants of her father and brother. 
 
 Hannah had also a busy week. She was oc 
 casionally afflicted with a mania for house- 
 cleaning ; and whenever an opportunity offered, 
 and very often when it did not, she would up 
 set every piece of furniture in the house ; beds, 
 bedding,hairs, tables, bureaus, and cupboards 
 would be put outside, and one passing might 
 imagine that the tithe proctor was going Ids 
 rounds, or that there was to be a hasty removal 
 Mr Mannors had been so accustomed to this 
 kind of thing that he good-naturedly submitted. 
 and let Hannah have her own way. Miss Man 
 nors never interfered, for she knew her mother 
 would not ; and on such occasions, while Robert 
 [jenerally kept out of the way, William and 
 Flounce would sit in a corner together, \vatch
 
 82 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 'ng the proceedings ; or, if it was a fine day, 
 would perch upon some elevation in the sun 
 light, as if expecting 1 that after the last piece 
 of furniture was thrown out, the next opera 
 tion would be the pulling down of the whole 
 house. 
 
 Hannah was never so happy as she seemed 
 to be on such occasions. She acted as if she 
 had full control, and more especially in the 
 absence of Mrs. Manners, she did just as ske 
 pleased, quite irrespective of the inconvenience 
 she might cause ; and, while tugging at some 
 heavy article, or striving to eject some stub 
 born piece of furniture, or while scouring away 
 at something that would persist in looking 
 black or brown in spite of all her efforts, she 
 would sing all manner of hymns that she could 
 remember ; and if her memory failed her, as it 
 often did, she would improvise tunes and 
 words, sometimes very irrelevant, for the part 
 that was wanting ; and it was only when she 
 was forced into a regular breakdown that she 
 would pause for a moment or two, to renew 
 her efforts, or commence to soliloquize upon 
 some household affair, or other matter, then 
 more particularly on her mind. 
 
 Now Hannah, though somewhat beyond 
 maidenly years, that is to say, between twenty- 
 five and thirty, was yet fresh, and rather good 
 looking. Strange to say, she never considered 
 herself a beauty, and scarcely ever thought of 
 matrimony ; no, not since she left her dreams 
 of eighteen. She seemed entirely devoted to 
 her mistress, to her household duties, and to 
 John Bunyan. Now and then, while in the 
 very midst and bustle of her work, with mois 
 tened brow and sleeves tucked up. she would 
 pause for a moment, and steal away to a cer 
 tain corner in the pantry, to take a peep at the 
 object of her thoughts. There, on a little 
 shelf close to a small window lay the Pil 
 grim's Progress ; she would take up the treas 
 ured book, read a little here and there, turn 
 the pages over and over, and seem delighted 
 with the engravings. There was the poor 
 pilgrim, heavily laden with his pack between 
 his shoulders, leaving house, wife, and chil 
 dren to flee from the " City of Destruction." 
 Then he was seen toiling up the hill toward the 
 little "wicket gate." There was " Vanity Fair," 
 " Christian and Evangelist," and other such 
 pictures at which she appeared to be never 
 tired of looking ; and she would gaze in admir- 
 ration at the plate which represented the Pil 
 grim with his heavy pack conversing with 
 " Good Will," at the arched gate, over which 
 was written, " Knock, and it shall be opened 
 unto you ;" while on a tower, at one side, 
 could be seen Beelzebub with bow and arrow, 
 bat-like wing, and crooked forked tail, ready to 
 shoot down pilgrims ere they entered, or, as in 
 the words of Bunyan. " From thence both he 
 and they that are with him shoot arrows at 
 those that come up to the gate, if happily they 
 may die before they enter in." 
 
 Thus it was with Hannah ; while other 
 damsels similarly situated would leisurely 
 survey their good looks in some piece of look 
 ing-glass, privately stowed away, she, on the 
 contrary, only went to consult her favorite 
 John Bunyan. Often, when she was in the 
 midst of such a turn-out, Mr. Mannors with 
 
 Mary would steal on tip-toe and watch the 
 operations unobserved from behind a door, or 
 from some other favorable spot. He would 
 humorously say, that Hannah's particular 
 vice was that of scrubbing, and that neither 
 tin pans, nor britannia tea-pots would live 
 out half their days through the scraping, rub 
 bing, and polishing they were destined to 
 suffer under the influence of her restless 
 arm. 
 
 But now Hannah's labors for the week 
 were nearly brought to a close. The clean 
 cages and fluttering canaries were hung up, 
 pictures were replaced ; even the shining brass 
 pendulum of the clock in the hall seemed to 
 look laughingly at you through its polished 
 glass casing, while it swung steadily to and 
 fro, as if determined to pull up for lost time. 
 Things were getting in order ; Mr. Mannors 
 might venture again into his study, and Han 
 nah, still watched by William, could be seen 
 manfully backing in and dragging to its 
 place the great heavy kitchen table, that one 
 would think held back as if it felt inclined 
 to put her to all the trouble it could. 
 
 " Well, I declare, if missus was here, she'd 
 make that good-for-nothing Robert help me 
 in with this. He's he's always away when 
 he's wanting." Then she put an air to this 
 verse of Bunyan's : 
 
 " ' What danger is the Pilgrim in ! how manv are his 
 
 foes! 
 How many ways there are to sin no living mortal 
 
 knows : 
 Some in the ditch spoiled are, yea, can die tumbling 
 
 in the mire ; 
 Some, though they shun the frying-pan, do leap into 
 
 the fire.' 
 
 Ah me! just so; foes within and foes with 
 out in this horrid world. 
 
 ' When I can read my title clear 
 To palaces ' 
 
 Well, I ought to know that verse ; but our 
 vile nature is always a thinking of some 
 thing else. 
 
 ' Hark 1 how the watchmen cry ; attend the trumpet's 
 
 sound, 
 
 Stand to your arms 1 the foe is nigh, the powers of 
 hell surround.' 
 
 Yes, if them fallen angels couldn't stand 
 him, how can we? but " 
 
 "Hannah, here comes Ma and Robert," 
 said Miss Mannors, entering the kitchen. 
 Hannah had fortunately got through with 
 present difficulties; chairs, tables, and cup 
 boards were in their proper places, and 
 seemed to rest content that they should not 
 get such another overhauling again for some 
 time. 
 
 " Why, bless me, missus, how glad I am 
 that you are back ; I am so glad you did not 
 come" until I got over my hurry : and there 
 goes that lazy fellow," said she, as she saw 
 Robert driving round to the stable. 
 
 " Hannah, poor girl," said Mrs. Mannors, ten 
 derly, as she looked around the shining 
 kitchen, " you have been doing too much, too 
 much entirely ; you are, I am afraid, too anx 
 ious about these trifling matters and " 
 
 " Oh 1 not at all, ma'am," broke in Hannah. 
 " Why, we were getting in such a state here 
 that I was ashamed myself to look at th
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 dust and cobwebs ; but I thought, ma'am, that 
 you were going to wait for Mr. Capel." 
 
 ' So I was, Hannah ; but we iieard to-day, at 
 Mrs. Baker's, that he was going to call here 
 first on his return from the circuit, and I 
 thought I would be home to meet him." 
 
 Mary and William, and Flounce whisking 
 his bushy tail, now followed Mrs. Manners 
 from room to room. She soon encountered 
 Mr. Styles, who had called there that morning 
 to pay a short visit, and Mr. Manners, to in 
 terest his wife, told her tliat their visitor had 
 been formerly a traveling agent for the 
 American Bible Society ; he knew that Mr. 
 Styles could give her a great deal of informa 
 tion about the state and prospects of religion 
 in America, but he was very careful for the 
 present not to shock her by relating how the 
 same person had fallen away from his first 
 love. 
 
 Mrs. Manners was very much pleased ; she 
 forgot many other things for the time, and 
 asked fifty different questions about the pro 
 gress of Methodism in his native land ; 
 whether all the Indians and black men were 
 converted, and whether many of the American 
 saints were to be at Exeter Hall. Samuel, 
 having learned her tendencies from Robert, 
 was careful just then to say nothing which 
 might cause her to regret his presence at 
 Hampstead. She told him how pleased Mr. 
 Capel would be to have an opportunity of 
 meeting him he was a devoted minister, in 
 whom she had great hopes. And then, 
 best of all, she assured Mr. Styles that, as he 
 was just in time for the great anniversary 
 meeting, he would learn at Exeter Hall what 
 the British Christians were doing, and what 
 sacrifices were annually made by them for the 
 circulation of the " Word," and for the con 
 version of poor benighted heathens she, of 
 course, meant the foreign ones. 
 
 During that quiet forenoon, Mr. Manners 
 and Samuel had a long conversation ; various 
 topics were introduced the merits of the re 
 spective governments of Great Britain and the 
 United States, the progressive liberality of 
 ideas, and the terrible rule of priestcraft 
 which still kept its icy gripe upon the gen 
 erous impulses of the people of both coun 
 tries, forcing the great majority yet to succumb 
 to the puerilities of a superstition which 
 would have been long since effHe, were it not 
 for the constant supplies that it extorted. 
 Samuel related the evidence he had at the 
 Bale for church rates, and the instance of 
 priestly intolerance, by describing the scene 
 at the cemetery. Mr. Manners was but too 
 familiar with such acts on the part of the 
 state-paid priests; and though America is as 
 yet almost free from such gross usurpation, 
 Mill,, even in the new world, there can be found 
 occasional instances of the same spirit, one of 
 which Samuel remembered to have taken 
 place at a churchyard in Pennsylvania.* 
 
 Among other things, he was particular to 
 give Mr. Mannors a more detailed account of 
 his night adventure in company with Robert. 
 He told him they had seen Dr. Buster under 
 the archway, how they had followed him un- 
 
 * In Chester. 
 
 til the carriage drove away after midnight- 
 and when he handed the paper which he be 
 lieved the doctor had dropped, Mr. Mannors 
 scrutinized it very closely, and pronounced the 
 writing to be Dr. Buster's. 
 
 " This," said Mr. Mannors, with a slight em 
 phasis, " may serve as an important clew to 
 his transactions. He has completely evaded 
 me for some time ; this very paper may, pr 
 haps, enable us to take the first step toward a 
 discovery. Dr. Buster is a popular man in 
 London, but he shuns rne ; very few know him 
 , as I do, and he knows me. He is a saint to 
 some, while in truth, a monster of cruelty." 
 
 " I saw that he recognized you yesterday on 
 the Strand, I kind o' think you'll not forget 
 the heavenly smile he gave you." 
 
 " No, not readily ; it IB eeldorn indeed that I 
 can get an opportunity of seeing that gentle 
 man, unless I choose to enter his church. I 
 never did the man any haim, but I believe he 
 is a tyrant, and will yet commit some diabol 
 ical act if he is not legally restrained, or hu 
 manized by some other means." 
 
 "Just so, or b/ a trifling assistance from 
 brute force." 
 
 " Well, any suitable force, or any proper 
 means that will prevent him from accom 
 plishing his purpose might almost be resorted 
 to ; I have learned, partly by mere chance and 
 partly from his own wife, that he persecutes 
 her, hates I er, and will soon end her days, un- 
 less she finds some deliverance ; and this I fear 
 he will manage to do in such a way as to es 
 cape legal responsibility." 
 
 " That will be his game. But he must be 
 watched, tracked, circumvented, and finally 
 squashed. You see chance is against him ; it 
 has led you to find one of his qualities, it has 
 partly shown me another, and I want no bet 
 ter pastime at present than a chance to follow 
 him up until I can tree him sky high." 
 
 " Indeed, I think you will be an excellent 
 agent for that purpose ; and we shall try and 
 devise some plan to entrap him, for I have 
 long determined to step between him and 
 his victim. I only await the opportunity. 
 We have a wily, unscrupulous man to deal 
 with, and must be very guarded in our ap 
 proaches, or he will defeat the best laid plans. 
 He has caused it to lie circulated that his wife 
 has forsaken her children and himself; there 
 has not yet been a trace of her whereabouts, 
 but it has been suspected by myself and a few 
 others, that the unfortunate woman has been 
 deprived of her liberty, and from what you 
 have lately discovered I am strongly of that 
 opinion." 
 
 " Well, we came upon him rather close, I im 
 agine ; he an't alone, though he's got bis 
 tools, male and female. Now, just give me 
 the credentials. I want to be a kind of walk 
 ing gentleman, or any thing else that comes 
 handy, for a month or two. This little cir 
 cumstance interests me A trifle; just put me 
 on the track, and I'm off." So saying, Mr. 
 Styles quickly whisked one hand across the 
 other, as if to illustrate the celerity of his in 
 tended movements. 
 
 " I stated," continued Mr. Mannors, " that 
 the first knowledge I had of Dr. Buster's ill 
 treatment to his wife was by chance. About
 
 34 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 two years ago, I was crossing the Bristol Chan 
 nel in a steam packet ; it was during a fine 
 summer's night ; several of the passengers re 
 mained on deck ; but as it grew later, one by 
 one went below, until I thought I was left 
 alone. The air was delightfully fresh. I felt 
 no inclination for sleep, and, having paced up 
 and down for some time, I stretched myself 
 on a seat or bench close to the wheel-house 
 and was trying to coirpose myself, when I 
 heard a discussion between two persons on a 
 religious subject. They sat or stood around 
 a corner, out of my view, but I could hear 
 every word distinctly. A lady's voice asserted 
 that King David, of the Old Tes'ament, was, 
 if any thing, a greater monster of cruelty and 
 wickedness than either Moses or Joshua ; and 
 after reciting some of his murders, tieachery, 
 and misconduct, declared that she could not 
 believe that a Supreme Being had ever con 
 nived at such infamy, or declared that such 
 a wretch could be ' a man after his own 
 heart.' 
 
 " A man's voice testily replied that such 
 things were beyond our comprehension ; that 
 we must take the account as we found it in the 
 Bible. It was inspired, consequently correct ; 
 that whether David repented or not, God could 
 select whom he pleased to work out his de 
 signs ; he could make one vessel to honor 
 and another to dishonor. David was refer 
 red to in the Scriptures as a progenitor of the 
 Messiah, whose coming was established by 
 prophecy. Prophecy was the thing that had 
 spread confusion among sneering infidels. 
 
 " The lady contended that these so-called 
 prophecies had no direct reference whatever 
 to a Messiah, and that even such a conclusion 
 had been formed by certain commentators. 
 
 The man then replied in a passionate tone 
 that such commentators would meet damna 
 tion, and all who believed as they did. He then 
 told her she had better give up the Bible al 
 together ; and he raised his voice sufficiently 
 loud to let me hear imprecations and words of 
 anger, and then, after the lady had made 
 some reply, I was startled by the noise of a 
 heavy fall on the deck, and I ran to the spot 
 in time to see the stout form of a man descend 
 the cabin stairs and to assist in raising the 
 lady, who had evidently been thrust off her 
 feet. She was bleeding and was partly con 
 fused, and she looked around and at me as if 
 greatly ashamed. I assured her that I was 
 the only person that knew any thing of the 
 matter, that I had overheard the conversation 
 which led to such violence, and after having as 
 sisted her to a Beat, begged her to allow me 
 to get some water to wash away the blood. 
 She thankfully declined, she was anxious to 
 retire unseen, and, folding a shawl over her 
 face, permitted me to lead her as far as the 
 cabin stairs. In about two or three minutes 
 afterward, the same stout person came on deck 
 again, and, when he paw me, was, no doubt, 
 suspicious that I had witnessed his unmanly 
 act. I stood near and watched him, and my 
 indignation at his conduct was so great that I 
 could not refrain from telling him that he 
 ought to be punished for what he had done, 
 and that I would inform the captain before 
 
 we left the vessel. It was sufficiently light 
 to enable me to see his features ; he made no 
 reply, but gave me one angry look and went 
 quickly away. 
 
 " Upon inquiry next morning, I learned that 
 the person whom I recognized as the probable 
 aggressor was one Dr. Buster, and that the 
 lady was his wife. On her account, I did not 
 think it prudent to mention any thing about 
 the violent act which I was satisfied he had 
 committed. I saw that he tried to avoid me, 
 but when we arrived in London I stood at the 
 ship's side and watched him pass out ; he 
 recognized me and frowned, and as he strode 
 hurriedly away he left his wife to follow as 
 best she could. 
 
 " It was some months afterward, and I had 
 almost forgotten the circumstance, when I 
 happened to read in one of the numerous re 
 ligious papers of the city that a course of 
 lectures on the Apocalypse and on the prophe 
 cies of Daniel were to be delivered by a cer 
 tain Dr. Buster. The paper lauded his piety 
 and ability in the highest terms. The name 
 recalled the circumstance on the vessel, and, 
 curious to learn whether it was the same per 
 son, I went to town and purchased a ticket 
 it was not a free lecture ; and as I loitered 
 outside the church-door, a carriage drove up, 
 out of which stepped the identical doctor that 
 I expected. He looked me full in the face ; I 
 saw a change of expression ; but he passed in, 
 determined not to know me, or to make me 
 believe that it must have been some one 
 else that he could do nothing derogatory to 
 his character as a minister. 1 was, however, 
 satisfied, and did not remain to hear the lec 
 ture. 
 
 " You might have heard at the Red Lion 
 that there are a very great number of Secularists 
 in and about London. I profess to be one of 
 that class ; we have several halls and lecture- 
 rooms in which religious and utilitarian sub 
 jects are freely discussed in an orderly man 
 ner. These discussions have been productive 
 of great benefit, and many church-members 
 and other persons, troubled with religious 
 doubts, or curious to learn our particular 
 views, attend such meetings ; sometimes 
 privately, in order to hear our objections 
 against Christianity, occasionally to try and 
 refute them, and to a-certain what, we think 
 on relative subjects ; for of course you are 
 aware, that so careful are the priests of their 
 creed, in such dread do they hold free investi 
 gation, that books written against them or 
 their faith are denounced, and their authors 
 calumniated. Among the many who attended, 
 there was one lady who appeared anxious to 
 remain unknown, and she might have done so 
 were it not that she was recognized one even 
 ing leaving the hall by some devout church- 
 members who were watching outside, for the 
 pur]K>se of discovering who were falling 
 away and proving recreant to the faith. 
 Great was the surprise when it was learned 
 that the lady was the wife of one of theprinci 
 pal dissenting ministers of the city, and true 
 to their mission, the orthodox detectives made 
 an immediate report to her husband ; and the 
 Rev. Dr. Buster appeared to be greatly de-
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 85 
 
 pressed , greatly humiliated, and in deep af 
 fliction by this woeful proof of his wife's reli 
 gious degeneracy. 
 
 "As for her. she had been long suspected of 
 indifference to church matters. Church-going 
 ladies said she was not like a minister's wife ; 
 she was never seen at prayer-meetings, never 
 at Sunday-schools, was no tractarian, did not 
 get up missionary tea-meetings, or, in fact, 
 interest herself in any of the numerous devices 
 for raising money for the spread of the Gospel, 
 or to increase the slender resources of her 
 pious husband. She was known to be studi 
 ous and thoughtful, of an inquiring mind, and 
 very benevolent to such needy applicants as 
 craved more for actual food than they did for 
 the scriptural ' bread of life.' 
 
 " In her domestic capacity, she could not be 
 excelled. She had two children, and proved 
 herself a most affectionate mother ; but alas 1 
 her want of faith had robbed her of any love 
 her husband might have had for her, and 
 though affecting before members of his church 
 to be most considerate toward her, it was 
 well known that his dislike grew stronger and 
 stronger, until at last his hatred made her | 
 life miserable. It was then rumored that her 
 mind was affected ; insanity could be traced in 
 her family ; for the idea was considered most 
 absurd, to suppose that a person religiously 
 brought up as she had been, carefully trained 
 in youth, and then daily and hourly the reci 
 pient of spiritual knowledge under the teach 
 ing ol such a husband, could ever possibly be 
 come skeptical while under the guidance of a 
 sound mind. 
 
 " There would be no great difficulty in tra 
 cing the authorship of such a reputed mental 
 frailty. In deference to the feelings of the 
 reverend doctor, the rumor was charitably ac 
 cepted as truth, but alas ! how uncharitably for 
 his wife. She well knew that this subterfuge, 
 if not counteracted, would accomplish her 
 ruin ; and as week after week passed, when 
 she found herself neglected, spurned, and 
 treated with contempt, she was almost on the' 
 verge of despair. She knew there was but 
 little if any sympathy for unbelievers among 
 the positive class of Christians which were un- 
 
 whom I had so singularly met on the steam 
 boat. She would not have recognized me 
 from that circumstance, but when I mentioned 
 it, she again expressed her thanks, and told 
 me that the treatment which she had then re 
 ceived was but the commencement of far 
 worse outrages; that not only was she abused 
 herself, but, to add to her agony, her husband 
 would threaten and terrify the children, until 
 they actually dreaded his approach. She said 
 it was evident that he wished to make her out 
 insane, and unfit to be left without some re 
 straint. He had already sent the children 
 away, and she had good reason to fear that 
 some evil toward herself was premeditated. 
 
 " I gave her the best advice I could at the 
 time, told her if any further violence was 
 committed, or any probability of such, to 
 make her escape at once ; that I would leave 
 word with John Hollis, at the Red Lion, to 
 take her under his protection, until he could 
 send for me ; and that afterward I would use 
 every possible method to secure her from mo 
 lestation. She was very grateful. I told her 
 that before I went home I would consult some 
 friends, and write to her more fully next day, 
 and that I would meet her again in a week ; 
 but if any thing happened in the mean time, 
 she was to do as I had directed. 
 
 " I called on the landlord of the Red Lion 
 the same evening, and had every thing arran 
 ged. I also met a few friends in town, and 
 related as much of the matter as was neces 
 sary to enlist their protection in case it should 
 be required. Next day I sent her another let 
 ter, and, at the appointed time when I called 
 again, instead of meeting the doctor's wife, 
 I actually met the doctor himself!" 
 
 " A very agreeable surprise, no doubt," said 
 Samuel. 
 
 " Not so agreeable as I could have desired. 
 With the coolest assurance he told me that I 
 had brought a scandal upon the once fair 
 name of his wife, that my vile teaching had 
 corrupted her mind, and that he supposed she 
 had already taken refuge in that very respec 
 table rendezvous, the Red Lion, in accordance 
 with my letter of instructions ; and here to 
 my surprise he coolly unfolded the letter, and 
 
 der her husband's control, that at best she I saw my own signature." 
 would be treated as a kind of monomaniac, " I took a moment for reflection ; I supposed 
 when she bethought of the secularists ; she that both she and I had been betrayed. The 
 had heard of my name in connection with woman in whose house we were, and who was 
 that organization, and I received through the I present during my interview with the doc- 
 
 post this letter." Hare Mr. Manners took a 
 letter from a small drawer, and read : 
 
 " ' DEAR SIR : One who is greatly persecu 
 ted on account of her religious opinions, and i that. I had but two interviews with his wife 
 
 tor's wife, was now absent, and I felt some 
 what embarrassed by the awkwardness of my 
 position. I, however, replied that he must 
 know he was stating what was not correct , 
 
 who fears actual violence, would wish to con 
 sult with you. An interview is particularly 
 
 in the course of my life the first on board 
 the Bristol packet when he had abused her, 
 
 desired. A letter addressed to E. C. M., 82 the last but a week ago in that room. When 
 Tottenham Court Road, will reach me. I mentioned that he had abused, or had struck 
 
 P.S. If convenient, an interview on Thurs 
 day next, between two and five P.M., would 
 
 be most suitable for me. 
 "'June 17th." 
 
 A FKIEND. 
 
 " I sent a reply, I think the same evening ; 
 and on the following Thursday I met her at 
 the house of a private friend, and I was sur 
 prised to find that she was the very person 
 
 his wife, he jumped up and violently exclaimed 
 while holding his shut fist before me in a 
 threatening attitude, " It's false, it's false, you 
 never saw me do it." 
 
 " ' Well, sir,' said I, ' if I did not see you do it, 
 I heard something of your violence, and I after- 
 ward saw the effects of your mode of argu 
 ment, and I now believe that you intend to 
 follow up that particular method of combating
 
 86 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 error by persecuting one whom you should 
 cherish.' 
 
 " ' See here,' said he, holding out my letter 
 at arm's length, ' I possess in this damning evi 
 dence against your principles of honor. If you 
 dare to deal in vile misrepresentations, I have 
 this fact to refute your assertions, and your 
 honored name subscribed in attestation. Now, 
 proceed if you dare.' 
 
 " His teeth were clinched fast when he utter 
 ed these words, and as he waved the letter 
 violently before me, he looked like one of 
 Milton's fallen angels, or the impersonation 
 of Satan himself. 
 
 " ' I know not what your threat means,' I re 
 plied, ' nor how you may distort the meaning 
 of that letter ; but remember, you will yet be 
 held responsible for the crime you are about 
 to commit ; or, if the act has been already per 
 petrated, there may be sufficient evidence to 
 test your religious scruples in a court of law.' 
 
 *' ' You talk of religion or law,' said he, 
 giving the mock laugh of a fury, while his 
 eyes seemed like skulking fiends ready with 
 some fulminating substance for my annihila 
 tion. ' You, with an infidel heart and body 
 without a soul, you talk about crime ! Go,' 
 said he, pointing to the door, ' go and teach 
 virtue to the wretch who has sought your pro 
 tection, teach her more of your infernal prin 
 ciples, until she is fit to graduate among a class 
 of Tom Paines, and Voltaires and Boling- 
 brokes, and like them, die in the pangs of 
 remorse, and meet with their final damna 
 tion.' 
 
 " If his curses were blessings in disguise, they 
 could not be more harmless so far as I was con 
 cerned. I saw what he was drifting at, he 
 wished to make me think that his wife had 
 left her home, and that he believed she was 
 under my protection. Before I went out, I 
 told him that I was not deceived, that I well 
 understood his object, and that there might 
 be a reckoning between us at some future 
 day. 
 
 " How he became possessed of my letter, I 
 know not. Unfortunately, I did not keep a 
 copy of it, it was written in haste, but' I am 
 not aware that there was any thing in it that 
 could compromise me. I think I recommend 
 ed her to leave her prison-like home for'a time, 
 and that I woxild see that she had suitable 
 protection from the designs of her husband. 
 
 " Something must have happened to her ; I 
 never heard from her afterward. Since that 
 time, it has been circulated that she left her 
 husband and children. Inquiry was made for 
 her among her relatives in Bristol, and search 
 was made at other places, but no trace of her 
 could be found. As she had sufficient means 
 of her own, some of the pious ladies and 
 members of her husband's congregation sup 
 pose that she is living privately witli some 
 friends, or perhaps among the Secularists ; 
 while many, outside the pale of the doctor's 
 influence, think that he has her securely un 
 der lock and key, either to shorten her exis 
 tence, or force her to abjure the errors of an 
 unbelief which has brought so much misery 
 to her, but which has gained so many prayers, 
 and so much sympathy for him. 
 
 " I did not see the doctor afterward until i he 
 
 day we encountered each other on the Strand 
 you were a witness of that friendly recogni 
 tion. If I ever meet him again, it may be ic 
 assist in convicting him of such inhumani 
 ty as will truly exhibit the meaning of hia 
 piety to the world." 
 
 ' Guess I'll try and meet him again," said 
 Mr. Styles; " I tracked him once in the rain 
 and dark, but it didn't amount to much. I'll 
 try him again, and see if I can't trot him out 
 in broad daylight, so that his admiring female 
 saints, when they see his elegant qualities in 
 perfection, may wish him away up out of 
 sight, with Elijah ; or up, or down, or any 
 where else, but in the velvet-cushioned pul 
 pits they made so soft for him in the Presby 
 terian churches of London." 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE evening sun sent its red beams slant 
 ing down upon Hampstead, and nearly 
 every window in Heath Cottage blazed in the 
 ruddy light. Troops of children were at play 
 by the roadside, and workmen, after having 
 partaken of their frugal meal, sat each by his 
 open door in the sunset, enjoying that calm 
 hour after the labors of the day. Lowing 
 cattle in the distant fields could be seen wind 
 ing homeward, followed here and there by 
 cheerful milkmaids carrying their white pails 
 while humming some favorite air as they went 
 along. A thousand birds sung and fluttered 
 in gardens and among orchard blossoms, and 
 the mellow notes of the thrush, and robin 
 could be heard, as if bidding farewell to the 
 fading day. 
 
 It was a calm hour, one which predisposes 
 for rest or for soothing thought. At such a 
 season, even care seems to loosen its hold, and, 
 under the milder influence, the heart which 
 has long been burdened with sorrow dreams 
 of hope again. In the tender light of eve, 
 memory loves to wander back once more to 
 the mountain, or stream, or green field of 
 youth, and the faces and smiles of friends of 
 earlier years return again to greet us. 
 
 Looking down upon Hampstead as Mr. 
 Capel now was from the brow of a small hill 
 which he had just ascended one might have 
 lingered a moment or two, as he did, to 
 survey the rich landscape spread out before 
 him. The view obtained was very attractive, 
 and while musing upon the variety of com 
 binations which formed the natural picture, 
 the young preacher forgot temporary troubles, 
 and his memory also wandered but not to a 
 very remote period neither was his fancy 
 as excursive as at other t mes. He glanced 
 at the village church with its ivied walls, 
 glowing windows, and old gray steeple ; at 
 houses and gardens, fields and mansions ; 
 at the shadows on the distant hills, and then 
 back again to Heath Cottage, where his eyes 
 remained fixed. He could gaze without 
 tiring on that quiet spot ; it was the principal 
 object in the picture to him, and, while thus 
 looking, he thought of its inmates, and of 
 their different characters ; of the credulous 
 visionary, Mrs. Manners, of her generous,
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 87 
 
 noble-minded husband, and of one other, to 
 whom his thoughts would stray even while 
 he tried to keep them confined to the mental 
 problems which often kept him restless and 
 wavering. He could not but admit that 
 were all the matrons to become like Mrs. 
 Manners, there would be a sad retrogression 
 ghe could now boast of having become more 
 alienated from the world, and it was evident 
 that her worldly affairs, as far as she was 
 concerned, were to be allowed to take care of 
 themsel ves. W hat a contrast between her and 
 tlie reasoning utilitarian, Martin Manners! 
 It was his desire so to improve matters in this 
 sublunary si ate as to make every human be- 
 insr as happy as possible. Were there more 
 of his kind, the query arose, whether man kind 
 would or would not be better prepared for a 
 futui e existence than they are now, under the 
 influence of a class who formally denounce 
 " pomps and vanities," but beneath whose 
 sway for centuries crime has so increased, and 
 human misery become so extended. And then 
 he thought, were the " angels of light " as 
 pure and noble and as disinterested as the 
 angel within that dwelling (but he shrunk 
 from the profane idea) that heaven would be 
 more worthy of his aspirations. 
 
 " Begorra ! Harry, but you're in a brown 
 study," said a friendly voice, almost at his 
 elbow. " Faith, if preaching adds such a 
 lamblike expression to your countenance, you 
 may expect it to approach downright sheepish- 
 ness by the time you're fit for the apostolic 
 Swaddlers to lay hands upon you." 
 
 Mr. Capel turned suddenly round, and was 
 surprised to see his old friend, the Rev. Father 
 Thomas McGlinn, with his cheerful red face, 
 sitting in a gig, surveying him from head to 
 foot, while a good-natured smile lit up his 
 jovial countenance. 
 
 " Why Father Tom, I'm very, very glad to 
 see you." 
 
 " I know you are, Harry, but you blush like 
 a girl. Sure, you don't mind what I say. I'd 
 blush too, 1 think, if I had such a pair of sad 
 dle bags dangling behind me. Barring them 
 things, you put me a good deal in mind of 
 your p >or father, God rest his sowl !" 
 
 "Amen, Father Tom. I know you and he 
 were great friends, and I often wished to see 
 you. I went down the other day to find you, 
 but I heard you had gone over to Ireland for 
 a few days. I was so sorry I didn't know of 
 your intention sooner." 
 
 " Faith, I wish you had, but, I went off in a 
 hurry. I got a letter stating that poor Billy 
 Doolan of Blackpool was in the last stage of 
 consumption you knew my cousin Billy 
 and sure the divil a one but my own four 
 bones would do him to administer Extreme 
 Unction to him ; well, if it did the poor 
 crayther any good, I don't begrudge the 
 trouble." 
 
 '" I knew poor Billy well, and am glad you 
 went to see him ; it was just like what you 
 would do. Father Tom ; but you can scarcely 
 doubt the efficacy of your own rites ?" said 
 Mr. Capel, looking with affected surprise." 
 
 " Oh ! no, oh ! no, not the.least," said Father 
 McGlinn, giving a slight cough, while the j 
 lips of his cheeks became if possible a little \ 
 
 redder than usual. " You know I sometimes 
 talk at random, Harry ; your poor father knew 
 that. There's but one true church, and what 
 ever she directs is right." He spoke these 
 words in such a manner as if intended to reas 
 sure himself. " But, Harry, different as our 
 creeds or calling may be, you and 1 must never 
 discuss religion. There was a solemn agree 
 ment of the same kind between your father and 
 myself, and, faith, it worked well anyhow he 
 didn't bother his brains much about hell or 
 heaven or purgatory, and God knows I wish 
 we had more like him." 
 
 "I wish there were more like him, I wish 
 there were, Father Tom. I think of him now 
 oftener than ever, and oh ! how I many a time 
 have wished that some Christian men and 
 ministers had even the hearts of so-called 
 pagans, what a gain it would be for humani 
 ty 1" Mr. Capel's eyes almost filled with tears 
 as he said this, and Father McGlinn stared at 
 him a moment or two in evident surprise. 
 
 ' " 'Pon my sowl, Harry, but that smacks a 
 good deal of your father ; you've got his 
 features, and I think you're rising to his ideas. 
 Go on that way a little longer, amck, and 
 you'll know something of the Bull in cosna 
 Domini, at least the Methodist interpretation 
 of it. But tell me, Harry," continued the 
 priest, in a tone of great kindness, " do they 
 use you well ? where do they keep you ? and 
 is that what you're at every day?" said he, 
 pointing significantly to the horse and saddle 
 bags. 
 
 " Not every day ; I have just been over the 
 circuit. I left here about ten days since, and 
 am now returning. I may not go out again 
 for another week perhaps longer ;" and the 
 priest noticed the troubled look which almost 
 forced him to articulate the words " perhaps 
 never." 
 
 " I fear they don't use you well," interrupted 
 Father McGlinn. " The English don't like us, 
 Harry never will like us they haven't the 
 same warm feelings that we have. The rave 
 nous clergy of the Establishment have robbed 
 and plundered poor Ireland until there's little 
 left, and take my word for it they're going to do 
 the same here, or I'm much mistaken ; though 
 there's some hope, as the Chartists aren't all 
 dead yet. But tell me, how do they treat 
 you 2" 
 
 " Indeed, Father Tom, I can't complain of 
 bad treatment ; on the contrary, I have found 
 the people very kind. 'Tis true they exhibit 
 their friendship in a different manner from 
 what our country people do, but, so far, I have 
 nothing to say against English hospitality 
 nothing indeed. But, Father Tom, don't you 
 think the clergy of one church would be just 
 as bad as those of another, either for Ireland 
 or for this country, or for any other country 
 that is, if they all had the same chance all 
 on an equality ? I've thought the matter over 
 lately, and I am inclined to this opinion." 
 
 " Lately, have you," said Father McGlinn, 
 musing ; " and do you include the Ranters and 
 Swaddlers among the rest? You know ws 
 look upon these as bastards upstarts but 
 faith they're beginning to hold up their heads 
 as high as the best of us the Swaddlers are 
 at any rate. Sure it's only the other day I
 
 88 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 heard of ocli ! bother what's his name I 
 can't think of it now but, anyway, a chap 
 that calls himself a ' Methodist parson,' march 
 ing into his conventicle with all the airs of a 
 cardinal, and stepping up into his elegant pul 
 pit decked in gown and bands. Why, God 
 bless the mark ! I would just as soon expect to 
 see a Quaker in regimentals. Now, with all 
 their mock humility, and sanctity, and their pity 
 for the deluded of England and Rome, only 
 give these same creatures wealth and numbers, 
 and then, ecce signum, they acquire the clerical 
 animus, and the inflated Swaddler who may 
 have begun life on a kish of turf now turns 
 up his nose if you call him a ' preacher,' and 
 hobbles into the sunlight as a ' reverend cler 
 gyman.' What d'ye think of that ?" 
 
 "You are very severe ! but 'tis too true too 
 true all from the same spirit of arrogance. 
 But.Father Tom," said Mr. Capel, after a pause, 
 and suddenly changing the conversation, " I 
 want to have a long, long talk with you some 
 day. I do not hesitate to say to you that you 
 are far better informed on many subjects than 
 I am, and there are many questions which 
 have troubled me lately problems which 
 you may be able to solve, and doubts which 
 perplex me very much, that your superior 
 knowledge may remove. I'm not afraid to 
 tell this to you." 
 
 " Questions, problems, doubts, all troubling 
 you, and lately too. Pray," said Father 
 McGlinn, straightening himself up, and as 
 suming to be very particular, " do these 
 partake of a scientific, metaphysical, or theolo 
 gical tendency ? if of the two former, I shall 
 have much pleasure in a rehearsal with you ; 
 if of the latter, of course you would not con 
 sult me a Papist." And here the priest made 
 a low bow of mock humility. 
 
 " I will consult you," said Mr. Capel eager 
 ly ''I will know what you think. I would 
 rather go to you, Father Tom, than to the 
 Archbishop of Canterbury. My doubts are 
 theological, and I know you will set me right, 
 if you can. I will go to you ; I would rather 
 confess to you, now, than to any one else in the 
 world." 
 
 " Well, then, my child," said the priest, 
 speaking very tenderly, " if you confess to me, 
 you will be sure of my poor absolution ; such 
 as it is, you shall have it, and then," said he, 
 in a low, confidential tone, " I may make a 
 more startling confession to you. But who is 
 to absolve me ? Who ? You will. Ay, but the 
 Pope won't. You must never doubt fiis fonn 
 of truth ; if you do, you're damned ! Ah ! 
 Harry, twenty years ago I learned some of my 
 doubts from your poor father, and I have car 
 ried them along with me ever since ; and I sup 
 pose I shall forever and ever." 
 
 " Father Tom," said Mr. Capel after a mo 
 ment's pause, " when can I see you after to 
 day r 
 
 " When ? Any time you like, almost. Some 
 times they send me out to jails and prisons, 
 and such places ; for I'm no great iavorite 
 with the bishop, and he adds these appoint 
 ments, I suppose, by the way of penance. 
 But I don't mind knocking about in the fresh 
 air, if I hadn't to visit cells, and gloomy places, 
 among criminals and half idiots. I'll tell you 
 
 Harry, could you ride out with me some 
 day ?" 
 
 " I could. What day do you say ?" 
 
 " I don't know yet, until I get back. If 
 you come to Moorfields, ten chances to one 
 but we'd have half a dozen priests around us ; 
 and as they are a little suspicious of ine at 
 times, they'd be more so if they saw me cheek by 
 jowl with you and your white choker ; lave 
 that thing off. No, Harry, 'twould be a bad 
 place for a priest and a Swaddler to meet." 
 
 " Name your day, then, Father Tom. We 
 can ride, I would prefer it." 
 
 " Let me see Monday, Tuesday .Wednesday. 
 Where do you live, Harry 1 hereabouts, some 
 where, isn't it ? I think we may try it on 
 Friday. You'd have no objection to a beef 
 steak on that day, neither would I for the 
 matter of that ; but we must keep this to our 
 selves. So we can have a long chat and a 
 beefsteak and trimmings somewhere in town 
 in the evening, eh ?" 
 
 "That will be excellent. Friday will 
 answer me better than any other day next 
 week. See, there's where my temporary home 
 is, Father Tom." And Mr. Capel pointed to 
 Heath Cottage, with its burnished windows, 
 fine shade trees, and pleasant garden ; and 
 just as they were admiring the cheerful home 
 stead, the sun's lingering rays struck the 
 spray of the little fountain, forming a beauti 
 ful tiny rainbow, and now and then as the jet 
 gushed higher, it seemed to beckon a welcome 
 to Mr. Capel and his friend, Father Tom. 
 
 " Heath Cottage, you call it. Well, now, 
 may I never, but if I was going to choose a 
 snug little spot where I could spend the re 
 mainder of my days, I wouldn't want a sweet 
 er little place than that. Ton my sowl, per- 
 fectly charming." And the good priest put 
 up his hand to shade his eyes, in order to get a 
 better view. "Why, Harry, how in God's 
 name did you strike upon that place? The 
 owner is, of course, a Swaddler ? Do I know 
 him ? What's his name ?" 
 
 " It is all what it appears to be, Father Tom ; 
 it is better even inside, and you will wonder 
 that its owner is not a Methodist nor a Swad- 
 dler, as you call them ; in religious matters, 
 he is something like my father ; but his wife, 
 Mrs. Manners, is a M ethodist, and " 
 
 " Mrs. what ?" eagerly interrupted the priest. 
 " Mrs. Mannors, did you say ?" 
 
 " Yes, Mrs. Mannors, wife of Martin Man 
 nors, or, as he ought to be called, the honor 
 able Martin Manners, one ol the noblest men 
 living." 
 
 The priest looked at his friend in blank 
 amazement, and then repeated slowly, " The 
 honorable Martin Manners, of Hampstead, 
 Commander-in-Chief of the Secularists in and 
 about London, and Great High-Priest of the 
 same !" And then, still looking at Mr. Capel, 
 he gave a long, low whistle, eo ludicrous that 
 Mr. Capel actually laughed aloud. 
 
 "O faith! you may laugh, ma bovchal, but 
 he's got you. I've heard of that name before, 
 and if that's the same Martin Manners that 
 shines in the National Reformer, and in the 
 Westminster, occasionally, no wonder you'd be 
 troubled with doubts and problems. Why, 
 man, for a plain, logical writer against church-
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 es and creeds, lie can't be surpassed in Lon 
 don, nor may be, in all England. He's mur 
 der all out, when he begins." 
 
 It was Mr. Capel'sturn now to be surprised ; 
 not that he was unacquainted with the pecu 
 liar opinions of his host on the subject of re 
 gion, but he had never heard of him as a 
 leader or writer, and he assured the priest 
 that a more unassuming person he had never 
 met. 
 
 " That's the man, Harry ; not a bit of pre 
 tension about him but och, murder ! he's 
 down on the whole of us, root arid branch. 
 I've never seen him, but I know this from a 
 particular friend. And bad luck to half the 
 clerical thick skulls, instead of facing him 
 like men and refuting his fair arguments, 
 they try to attack his character ; but, by all 
 accounts, that's beyond their reach, and they 
 can't do with him yet as they have done to 
 Paine and others. Well now, 'pon my sowl, 
 priest and all as I am, I'd like to meet him. 
 True genius has a passport to every heart, 
 whatever its character." 
 
 " Father Tom, there is nothing I would 
 like better than that you should get acquaint 
 ed with him. You will be very much pleased ; 
 drive on with me, and if he's at home, you 
 shall have that gratification in less than five 
 minutes." 
 
 They drove up to the garden-gate, and Mrs. 
 Manners, being as usual on the look-out for 
 Mr. Capel, saw him outside, accompanied by 
 another person whose clerical habit, as he 
 stepped out of the gig, rather puzzled her. 
 The priest wore his soutane, over which, when 
 driviiig, he drew on a light or heavy outside 
 coat, as the weather might require. Mrs. 
 Manners therefore did not venture out, but 
 Robert came to take charge of the horses ; 
 even he also felt nonplussed as to the real 
 character of the priest, and at last concluded 
 that he must be some great man among the 
 Methodists, or some novel importation from 
 "abroad" to delight the vision of Mrs. Man 
 nors and other pious sisters at Exeter Hall. 
 
 " 'Pon my word, Mr. Mannors," said the 
 priest, after the introductions were over, " I'm 
 very happy, very happy indeed to meet with 
 one so distinguished as yourself, and I am 
 entirely indebted to my friend Mr. Capel for 
 this unexpected pleasure." And the honest 
 red face of the Rev. Mr. McGlinn was beaming 
 with smiles, while he continued to look with 
 admiration upon the genial countenance of 
 Mr. MannorB. 
 
 " You flatter me, Mr. McGlinn, indeed you 
 do ; but flattery from a clergyman, to one not 
 so distinguished, but rather so noted as I am, 
 ought to be, and really is very gratifying. It 
 is a rare pleasure for me to be honored with a 
 visit from cither priest or parson, except in 
 the case of our friend Capel ; and I shall 
 treasure this event as one worthy of particular 
 record." 
 
 Mrs. Mannors had only just then entered 
 the room ; and her husband, upon presenting 
 Mr. McGlinn, stated that he was a Roman 
 Catholic priest, and a very intimate friend of 
 Mr. Capel. Had some wicked imp quickly 
 thrust a pin into her arm, she could not have 
 held back more suddenly. She had almost as 
 
 great a passion for reading Fox's BooTc of 
 Martyr's as Hannah had for reading John 
 Bunyan ; and as her prejudice against Popery 
 was very strong, she really fancied that there 
 was nothing too perfidious for a Romish priest ; 
 and to meet one thus so unexpectedly in 
 her own house produced the violent nervous 
 effect actual dread. 
 
 Scarcely one present, not eveu Mr. Man- 
 nors himself, could suppress a smile. Mr. 
 Samuel Styles had to cough quickly and 
 loudly several times to keep from bursting 
 into an open laugh ; and the fare cal expres 
 sion on tl>e priest's face just meant as much 
 as if he had said, " Don't be afraid ; indeed, I 
 won't eat you at all, at all, ma'am !" 
 
 In a moment or two, however, she became 
 reassured, and having bowed politely, forced 
 herself to utter some expressions of satisfac 
 tion ; but the tantalizing burden remained on 
 her mind, how Mr. Capel, a preacher of the 
 Gospel, could be really and truly the intimate 
 friend of a Popish priest. After a glass of 
 wine, and the interchange of a few common 
 place remarks, as it was getting late, the 
 priest reluctantly said he should have to leave ; 
 but he received a warm invitation to pay 
 another visit, and he took his departure, men 
 tally flinging his best blessing on the head and 
 shoulders of Mr. Mannors and upon his whole 
 household. As he drove off alone in the 
 fast waning sunlight, he felt delighted at 
 having crossed by chance such a flowery, fra 
 grant oasis in the dreary desert of his clerical 
 life. 
 
 During Mr. McGlinn 's stay, he made in 
 quiries about some old friends residing in 
 Philadelphia, whom Mr. Styles happened to 
 know, and made some flattering observations 
 on the prosperity of the great republic ; and 
 when Samuel, in return, thought to gratify him 
 with an account of the immense Catholitj 
 cathedral in course of erection in that city ; of 
 the great wealth of the hierarchy of his 
 Church in the United States, and of the in 
 fluence which the Catholic body exercised 
 throughout the country, he was surprised at 
 the indifference manifested by Mr. McGliun, 
 and set him down as an exception to the 
 general rule among Catholic clergymen. 
 
 " Father McGlinn is an oddity," said Mr. 
 Capel, in reply to a remark of Mr. Styles ; " he 
 is looked on by his own people as very ec 
 centric and independent, but he is a great 
 favorite, and a more charitable man does not 
 exist ; his kindness in this respect is never 
 regulated by creed, color, or country." 
 
 " That's an admirable trait," said Mr. Man 
 nors. " If his face be the representative of hia 
 heart, his generous impulses will never be 
 circumscribed by such ideas. He would never 
 make an inquisitor ; I hope we shall meet him 
 soon again." 
 
 " Mrs. Mannors could attend to no household 
 affairs that evening ; and while her husband 
 was engaged in a conversation with Mr. 
 Styles, she drew Mr. Capel toward a seat 
 near the back window of the room, where 
 they could chat more quietly, and asked "him 
 fifty questions about priests and Catholics, 
 and about the state of religion on the circuit. 
 She told him all the local news concerning
 
 90 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 class-meetings, prayer-meetings, tea-meetings, 
 and expected revivals, and what she antici 
 pated at Exeter Hall ; told him about a con 
 troversy which had been commenced on 
 the subject of baptism ; how Mr. Baker, when 
 he returned from the district meeting, would 
 overwhelm the immersionitjte ; said some 
 thing of Dr. Cumming's new exposition of 
 Daniel's vision of the ram and he-goat ; and 
 then related a curious dream which she had 
 had three nights in succession, and in which 
 he and Mr. Mannors were the principal actors ; 
 and how her hopes were growing stronger 
 and stronger that her husband should soon be 
 clothed in his right mind, and get rid of the 
 delusion of unbelief. 
 
 Mr. Capel listened to these desultory reci 
 tals with patience ; he made but few remarks. 
 He knew she would be more content if he 
 eat and heard all she had to say ; and while 
 she tried to make him feel interested with her 
 religious burden of eccentricities, his mind 
 was preoccupied with other matters. He 
 thought of Father McGlinn, and of the shadows 
 of skepticism which were already closing 
 around him ; a little longer, and he too might 
 fall, to be maligned and despised by those who 
 now held him in such respect. Then he re 
 flected upon his own condition ; how waver 
 ing, how undecided. Should he yet be sub 
 jected to the scorn of the " faithful " ? What 
 would Mr. Baker say to him ? how should he 
 ever again hold up his head and be called an 
 apostate, a renegade, a wretch ? Then there 
 came a little gleam of hope ; how many thou 
 sand of the learned and intellectual in all 
 ages had given their assent to Christianity, 
 never doubting the Bible or its teachings. 
 He must try and resist this growing incredu 
 lity, he must abandon those speculations, and 
 curb the towering pride of his reason. How 
 many in the heyday of health and prosperity 
 had professed to reject inspiration but to sub 
 mit and bewail their error in a dying hour. 
 He knew there were such ; but then again, he 
 knew that the reputed death-bed scenes of 
 Paine, Voltaire, and others, which had many 
 times made him shudder at a doubt, were but 
 gross fabrications of unprincipled men, who, 
 like other priests in all ages, believed that if 
 truth could be advanced by the aid of a lie, it 
 would be proper to do so. Then again, how 
 uncertain was this death-bed testimony ; how 
 many instances were there at such times of 
 Protestant converts relapsing to Catholicism, 
 and of men in every age and country accept 
 ing, in the feebleness of senility, the very 
 errors which they had rejected under the 
 influence of a sound mind. 
 
 The shadows of evening fell upon the 
 sombre features of Mrs. Mannors, as she look 
 ed with indifference upon the sleeping flowers 
 beneath her window. She had ceased speak 
 ing, and seemed in one of her pious reveries, 
 and sat, listless and languid, with passionless 
 face, like one weary, very weary of herself 
 and the whole world. Just then her busy, 
 joyful daughter flitted into the room like a 
 ray of light; she was followed by her brother ; 
 and Mrs. Mannors, having kissed the delicate 
 cheek of her little son, led the way to the tea- 
 table m the next room. 
 
 Half an hour afterward, and before Miss 
 Mannors had time to commence one of hei 
 favorite pieces, Mrs. Mannors remarked, when 
 they had reassembled in the parlor : 
 
 ' Oh ! you have not heard all that Mr. 
 Styles has to say about America. You must 
 hear all he has to tell us of the missionaries 
 and wild Indians, and what the Gospel has 
 done for the poor black men in his native land. 
 He has traveled for the Bible Society, and 
 knows every thing about those interesting 
 matters." And she led Mr. Capel toward Mr. 
 Styles, and looked delighted to see her hus 
 band apparently so interested in private con 
 versation with the American stranger. What 
 a positive miracle she thought it was now 
 to see Mr. Mannors entertaining a minister 
 of the Gospel, and the agent of a Bible Soci 
 ety. Even the presence of a Catholic priest 
 would be evidence, however trifling, that her 
 husband had yet some regard for religion. 
 
 " Mr. Styles must know a good deal ; he 
 could even tell your priest friend, Mr. Capel, 
 what they were doing to advance the interests 
 of his church that terrible Popish system. 
 The cathedral they are putting up in Phila 
 delphia must be a wonderful building. What 
 a pity to waste so much money in an endeavor 
 to delude so many poor ignorant people !" 
 
 " Guess it is, ma'am," said Samuel Styles, 
 with great sincerity ; "just see what good 
 might be done for the poor with the pile of 
 dollars which it will require to complete the 
 building Fancy one million thrown away 
 yes, worse than thrown away, for such a 
 purpose. But Philadelphia, like New-York 
 and other American cities, is a great place for 
 churches, and ministers, and misery. Some 
 of the preachers contend so hard with sinners, 
 and, said he parenthetically so often with 
 each other during the cold dreary winters, 
 that by the time summer comes round they 
 are used up, and then the ladies go about 
 among the converted and collect money 
 enough to send the broken-down ministers 
 away upon an European tour to recover their 
 health and appetites. Then, when they get 
 back in the fall, ready for another brush with 
 the enemy, the women folks go abound again, 
 and get more money to buy what they call a 
 service of plate that is, a silver tea-pot and a 
 lot of cups and saucers to encourage them to 
 work harder, and sometimes your tip-top men 
 get a gold watch or two thrown in. These 
 women are charitable to the ministers ; if it 
 wasn't for them, I guess the preachers would 
 once in a while come out at the small end 
 guess it's a kind of so all the world over. 
 While the men squabble and make money, 
 the women take care of the church."* 
 
 " You see," said Mrs. Mannors approvingly, 
 " that the Lord often chooses the weak things 
 of the world to confound the wise. He, in 
 his own peculiar way, selects the weaker ves- 
 
 * A religions paper the New-York Ambassador, of 
 Aug. 10, 1WJ7. stated that the Fifth avenue Presbyterian 
 Chureh, New- York, had presented their late pastor. 
 
 Rev. N. L. R , with a purse of twenty-five thousand 
 
 dollars, and also one year's salary of six thousand dol 
 lars; that this poor, worn-out pastor had purchased a 
 farm near New-Brunswick, N. J., where he intended 
 to recruit his health.
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 sels, the Marys and the Marthas, to effect 
 his great purposes." 
 
 "Just BO, ma'am. If the women don't rank 
 equal to the ministers in church usefulness, I 
 kind o' guess they follow immediately next." 
 
 " So they do. The Lord has made his hand 
 maids serviceable ; I hope he will continue to 
 do so unto the end." 
 
 " Yes, ma'am ; the United States has made 
 great strides in religious matters ; but here 1 
 think you are yet a leetle ahead of us just 
 .yet. You know we've got no ' state church,' 
 but, Lord bless you, we've got pious edifices 
 at every street-corner splendid ones too ; the 
 whole country is studded with them, almost as 
 thick as tombstones in a graveyard. We 
 have now about fifty-four thousand churches 
 in the United States, valued at one hundred 
 and seventy -two millions of dollars, affording 
 accommodation for nineteen million per 
 sons. Why, in New-York itself, there are 
 over three hundred churches of all kinds, 
 which to support, including ministers' sala 
 ries, costs about one million dollars per annum. 
 Many of these churches are richly endowed, 
 producing, according to a careful estimate, an 
 annual income of eighteen millions of dollars 
 all, too, free from any kind of tax. Trinity 
 Church alone is possessed of vast wealth.* 
 Then we have a spiritual army of over fifty 
 thousand well-paid ministers, going to and fro 
 throughout the land, preaching and praying : 
 yet poverty and crime, especially in cities and 
 among churches, is on the increase ; and though 
 ministers use all their influence to have mu 
 seums, public libraries, and places of amuse 
 ment shut up on the Sabbath day, yet not 
 more than one sixth of the population can be 
 induced to attend a place of worship. They 
 once tried in Philadelphia to put a stop to 
 traveling on Sunday, by putting chains across 
 the streets in front of church doors, and even 
 now they object to let a street-car run on that 
 day the poor man must walk, while the rich 
 can drive with impunity ; but the multitudes 
 won't be forced, and the churches are no bet 
 ter filled than usual ; still they go on build 
 ing more, but with the same result ; and un 
 believers boastfully eixy that the money it 
 costs to erect stylish sanctuaries f and pay an 
 
 * With respect to the vast wealth of Trinity Church, 
 New- York, an American paper gives the following 
 Item of news : 
 
 " The Claim of Trinity Church, in New- York City, to 
 about SIXTY MILLIONS OF DOLLARS worth of real estate 
 la about to be tested in the Courts of that State. 
 
 is one of the counsel for the heirs of Anneke 
 
 Jans who claim the property." 
 
 After reading this, one is almost forced to rub his eyes, 
 to see if he be not deceived ; but the fact is too notorious. 
 The characteristic greed of the Christian craft has en 
 abled even that one church to monopolize enough to 
 furnish a home for every poor family in the great 
 State of JJew-York I shame ! where is thy blush ? 
 Author. 
 
 t FASHIONABLE CHURCHES. A writer in the Atlantic 
 Monthly, for January says : ' The design of the fash 
 ionable church-builder of the present moment is to 
 produce a richly-furnished, quietly adorned, dimly-il- 
 Inminated ecclesiastical parlor, in which a few hun 
 dred ladies and gentlemen, attired in kindred taste, may 
 sit perfectly at their ease, and see no object not in har 
 mony with the scene around them. Every thing in 
 and around the church seems to proclaim it a kind of 
 exclusive ecclesiastical club, designed for the accom- 
 
 Imodation of persons of ten thousand dollars a year and 
 upward." , 
 
 army of preachers would be more than suffi 
 cient to banish every trace of poverty from the 
 land ; that the money which is annually 
 squandered for religious purposes would be 
 more than ample to provide homes for the 
 homeless, and food and clothing for all in 
 need ; thus reducing motives to crime, and in 
 creasing a general contentment and mo 
 rality." * 
 
 Mrs. Manners felt a little surprise at such 
 admissions from Mr. Styles, and seemed 
 doubtful as to the propriety of this mode of 
 upholding religion in the presence of her hus 
 band. He and Mr. Capel sat quietly by, lis 
 tening with great interest to the recital ; and 
 she came to the rescue by saying that she 
 thought such facts were the best proof of the 
 depravity of the human heart in resisting di 
 vine grace. It was so all the time. Some will 
 never do more than ask, " What shall we eat, 
 what shall we drink, or wherewithal shall we 
 be clothed?" As long as their perishing bo 
 dies are cared for, they feel indifferent about 
 providing for their immortal souls. 
 
 " But," said she, making a diversion, " you 
 can tell us about the Bible Society. The 
 American Christians get credit for great libe 
 rality in trying to circulate the glorious Gos 
 pel." 
 
 " So they ought, ma'am," said Mr. Styles, 
 pulling out a little memorandum-book. " I 
 guess there an't a race of people on earth fling 
 their money away faster than they do. Just 
 get steam up pretty well, make some loud 
 talk about ' the Book,' and then they go it 
 like a streak. I rather think I can give an il 
 lustration of their excitability guess it's about 
 the same in piety as in politics. The Ameri 
 can Bible Society has done a good deal in ita 
 particular way. In about fifty years," said he, 
 consulting his memoranda, " they have col 
 lected over ten millions of dollars, issued over 
 twenty-one millions of Bibles, and have pub 
 lished over seventy editions of 'The Word' 
 in forty-three different languages ; and last 
 year again the society raised over six hundred 
 thousand dollars /" 
 
 These tremendous figures made even Mrs. 
 Mannors gasp, and she brought her hands to 
 gether in a perfect ecstasy. " Oh ! what inde 
 fatigable men you must have in your native 
 land, what wonderful liberality, in such anew 
 country, what a conscientious regard for the 
 Bible! Your nation must prosper. The Lord 
 loveth a cheerful giver." 
 
 "That regard may be another matter, ma'am. 
 I have assisted in the distribution of some 
 thousands of copies of the Scriptures ; every 
 family thought it but right to have a Bible ; 
 but then it was mostly laid aside if it was a 
 plain affair ; but if it had good binding and gilt 
 edges, it would be put among trinkets, where 
 it could be admired with the rest. This kind 
 of Bible-purchase used to remind me of the 
 great number of pious folks who regularly 
 attended church to hear fine music and go to 
 sleep." Then, after a pause, he continued, 
 " It was a mystery to me ; the money kept a 
 
 * From the New- York Christian Advocate, (1868.) w 
 learn that the Centenary contributions of the M. E 
 Church now foot up to nearly eight and a quarter mil 
 lion of dollars, with four conferences yet to hear from
 
 92 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 coming in, and out went loads upon loads of 
 Bibles ; but the fact is, they're not read ; and 
 if white folks won't read them, neither will 
 the black ; but then, they all must have Bibles, 
 just like the papist his cross, or the witch 
 her charm, and so it goes on from year to 
 year, and the world won't be converted. It 
 is all a mystery ten millions of money and 
 twenty one millions of Bibles !"* 
 
 Having made these statements, Mr. Styles 
 assumed a reflective attitude, and Mrs. Man 
 ners again put in a defense. 
 
 " It may be a mystery to us for a while, but 
 a glorious result will follow the Lord has 
 promised it therefore we need hot doubt. 
 The missionary reports give us glowing ac 
 counts of what the Lord is doing among the 
 heathen ; and his divinely appointed ministers 
 of our land and of yours are going forth like 
 spiritual Samsons, overturning idols and rout 
 ing the enemy." 
 
 " There is unfortunately a great difference 
 sometimes between these missionary reports. 
 One says, that, beside the actual cost, it takes 
 about six missionaries to convert one Hotten 
 tot ; that is, it takes six lives ; six of them die 
 off, and then the Hottentot won't stay con 
 verted if you don't feed him well. You know 
 the heathen, parishioners often eat their 
 minister! The Missionary Herald won't 
 publish such facts, or will gloss them over, 
 and make it appear as if things were going on 
 swimmingly ; but the truth leaks out by 
 degrees ; and I often think it is such a pity 
 that the millions we spend including many 
 a widow's mite should be flung away while 
 we have so many poor, and ignorant, and 
 heathenish at home." 
 
 " No matter, these things may be dishearten 
 ing, but the command is, ' Go forth, and pro 
 claim the Gospel to every creature !' and it 
 must be done. What is the wealth of 
 earth compared to the value of one immor 
 tal soul ! Our missionaries have con 
 tended with the powers of darkness in foreign 
 lands ; have had fierce struggles, but glorious 
 triumphs. Even one solitary rescue from the 
 grasp of Satan more than compensates for the 
 millions we spend. The cross has been raised 
 and the crescent is waning, and devils tremble, 
 while the idols of the heathen lie scattered in 
 the dust. Come to morrow, come with me 
 and see a proof of these glorious triumphs at 
 Exeter Hall." 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 IT was the fourth of May, 1864, and a vast 
 number of persons thronged the streets of the 
 metropolis. The many houseless and homeless 
 
 MAGNIFICENT BIBLE. Mr. Mackenzie, of Glasgow, 
 has printed a email number of what he calls his 
 " Hundred Guinea Edition " of the Holy Scriptures 
 an edition with which his name will always be associ 
 ated. It is the most sumptuous and best printed 
 Bible ever produced. The size is atlas folio ; the type 
 need is a beautiful, sharp-cut great-primer, set up in 
 two columns, with two narrow central columns of 
 reference ; a thick red border line is printed outside 
 the text ; the paper made use of is very thick, made 
 especially by Dlckenson, costing, we believe, as much 
 as fourteen pence a pound. Twelve copies only have 
 been printed, and the probability IB, that whenever a 
 copy turns up for sale It will fetch some fabulous 
 price. English, paper. 
 
 wanderers that lurked here and there, or sat 
 listlessly in some recess, looked with moody 
 indifference upon the gay crowd that flitted 
 by, though often shadowed by the diseased and 
 limping poverty that hobbled by its side. Eng 
 lish lords and foreign barons passed and re- 
 passed, and now the gay retinue of a wealthy 
 peer moved proudly by ; while, not far distant, 
 the fluttering rags of a British beggar could 
 be seen, as he watched with scowling aspect 
 the approach of a policeman who would pre 
 vent him asking the charity which lie so much 
 needed, or warn him off as an unclean thing, 
 unfit to be seen. And then, at intervals, could 
 be observed drifting wrecks of frail and fam 
 ishing womanhood, moving slowly but surely 
 down, down, to that deep, dark gulf of infamy, 
 out of which not one in a hundred is ever 
 rescued. 
 
 Neither fog nor cloud interposed this day to 
 frown upon the flaunting gayety of heartless 
 wealth, or shut out the sad condition of those 
 harassed to temptation and crime by the 
 heavy load of poverty and affliction which 
 flung out such dreary shadows of despair upon 
 the future. The sun shone down brightly en 
 all alike, as if in reproof to the imposed dis 
 tinctions which religion and exclusiveness 
 have ever advocated, and which have robbed 
 so many of nature's free gifts, spreading such 
 misery and desolation over the whole earth. 
 
 Onward went the crowd ; and those who, from 
 long observation, could readily distinguish 
 between the every day appearance of the 
 stream of life which pours through a London 
 thoroughfare and one of an unusual kind 
 could this day notice the foreign faces and 
 quaint and provincial costumes which moved 
 toward Waterloo bridge. The throng here 
 was very great, and it required all the exertion 
 of a host of policemen to keep the thoroughfare 
 from being completely blocked up. Pedestri 
 ans and equestrians, soldiers and civilians, 
 cabs, coaches, and omnibuses followed each 
 other in quick succession ; and a great number 
 of clergymen, a few statesmen and philanthro 
 pists, made the medley almost complete. 
 
 Farther toward the Strand the current of 
 people seemed to flow, but a crowd was kept 
 from forming in that place by the tens and 
 dozens which went off together in the direc 
 tion of Exeter Hall. Equipage after equi 
 page was ranged around the building, in wait 
 ing for the great personages they had con 
 veyed thither. Surely some extraordinary 
 business must be on hand ; it might be sup 
 posed that a convocation of the great, the wise, 
 the humane, and charitably disposed of the 
 world was about to take place to concert one 
 grand measure to relieve the necessities of 
 every human being, and that an experimen 
 tal attempt was to be made among the hun 
 dreds and thousands of poverty-stricken 
 wretches struggling out a miserable exist 
 ence in that great city of wealth and priva 
 tion, and afterward to be extended to the 
 children of misery throughout the kingdom. 
 Or it might be an immense gathering of tho 
 kind and merciful, to abolish, first of all, thoso 
 pauper prisons and bastiles of poverty which 
 ought to bring a blush of shame to the cheeks 
 of British legislators prisons and bastiles, in 
 which human beings are degraded for the
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 98 
 
 crime of penurj where the child knows no 
 parent, and where the venerable couple who 
 have walked tog-ether nearly to the very foot 
 of the hill of life are here separated forever, 
 and imprisoned because of their mendicancy !* 
 
 Were these people about to meet to estab 
 lish some great system of free education, or 
 to improve the condition of the overwrought 
 working 'classes? What benevolent object 
 could there be in view which could thus in 
 duce the reputed wise of the earth to hurry 
 together from its four corners to meet in a 
 distant city? Alas! simply but a matter 
 which fancifully relates to the soul alone, and 
 to another state of existence, and to the te 
 dious and exorbitantly expensive dissemina 
 tion of a so-called revelation from the of 
 fended deity of Christendom ! 
 
 The stranger or citizen of London on that 
 fine May morning could not but observe the 
 numerous placards and large posters put up 
 in conspicuous places, side by side with bills 
 about Drury Lane, Covent Garden, and other 
 noted places of amusement ; and, as he went 
 along, he would see, wandering about the gay 
 streets, brutalized and sottish men, earning 
 sixpence or a shilling by carrying the same 
 placard on their shoulders, and then, as with 
 staggering step, one thrust himself in the 
 way, the pedestrians could read 
 " EXETER HALL ! 
 
 GREAT MEETING OF THE BRITISH AND 
 FOREIGN BIBLE SOCIETY, 
 THIS DAY !" 
 
 Those who chose to follow the stream of 
 life toward the Hall could notice the great 
 number of loungers and idlers in front of its en 
 trance ; that is, if men who are willing to labor 
 but can not find employment may be called 
 such, and coarse jokes and rough comments, 
 made by the pauper crowd, could be heard as 
 a stately carriage; drove up, or upon the appear 
 ance of some clerical celebrity, against whom 
 these comments were more particularly di 
 rected. 
 
 " That's a rum cove, Bill ; that ere fellow's a 
 Sandwicher, I'll bet." 
 
 " No, he beant, Tom ; if it's that lantern jaw 
 with the gold swag, just going in, it's Parson 
 Rockett, with liis five hundred a year. Dare 
 say lie's taken in more sandwiches in a week 
 than we ever did in our blasted lives, and yet 
 he's slim about the belt." 
 
 " Here's a swell, boys ! my eyes, what a well- 
 paid Christian ! there's a corporation for you 1" 
 
 " Who's he, Jack V" 
 
 " Dttnno ; I'll lay it's a bishop ; 'tis too. Fine 
 coach that ! dare say he's got the dibs. I'd damn 
 sight rather have his purse than his prayers. 
 Ay, that's Bishop of Winchester ; he's a big 
 'un, and will stick to the Bible as long as it 
 brings him from ten to twenty thousand a year, 
 the blasted state cormorant !" 
 
 " See, Bill, here's another on 'em. Good 
 heavens ! what I'd give to be a bishop ; another 
 fine coach, lots o' flunkies and plenty of brass. 
 That's Ripon. My Lord Bishop of Ripon, ha, 
 ha 1 Damn me, but I would like to be him ; some 
 thousands a year, plenty to eat, nothing to 
 
 * See Note O. 
 
 do, plenty of beer, lots o' fun. Good God, 
 what a life !" 
 
 " Jack, this next fellow an't a bishop ; the 
 mope is afoot, and looks as if he had just lost 
 his mother." 
 
 " That's one of them 'ere preachers, a Me< 
 thody, reg'ler blue-face. Jest hear him once, 
 when he's set a'going. All hell, hell ! He 
 knows more about it than the best on 'em." 
 
 " Who's this grinning ape, Tom ? This cove 
 with the umbreller ?" 
 
 " And the big teeth ? don't you know, Bill ?" 
 
 " No, but blast it, I think I ought ! Blow me, 
 but it's Spurgeon ! so it is. He's got jaw 
 breakers, and uses them too. He'll make 'em 
 finger the dibs to-day, and send another batch 
 of Bibles to the forriners." 
 
 " Say, Bill, didn't you get a Bible once from 
 one of them hired chaps? One of them 
 what do you call 'ems? What did you do 
 with the Bible, Bill ?" 
 
 " Sold it for beer and bacca same as yon 
 and Tom Brown did." 
 
 " But you never read yours, you blasted 
 heathen!" 
 
 " Didn't, 'cause I couldn't wouldn't if I 
 could." 
 
 " Bill ! Then you never knew any thing 
 about the ass that talked for a lull half-hour 
 to Jonah before the cock crew at him." 
 
 " Wouldn't bleeve it if I did ; that's all 
 gammon bishop's gammon." 
 
 " Them chaps going in bleeves it, Bill eh? 
 Pays well." 
 
 " So they says, but I knows better than 
 that they may though, cause they're paid 
 'tis their trade, and they'd bleeve any sich 
 rubbish for money.'' 
 
 " Stand aside, here's another one of the 
 spouters, swellish like. Them's a nice pair of 
 grays. I don't mean the reverend old buck, 
 nor the lady, nor of course th young uns in 
 front, but the horses slap tips, an't they ? 
 Tis a'most as good as a bishop's. Lord, how 
 this praying business does pay ! See him, 
 how he blinks, and bows that's your style, 
 old boy." 
 
 " Jack, if that fellow has the face of a con 
 verted saint, there's hope for you and Bill." 
 
 "What the devil do you know about it? 
 You wouldn't compare me to that chap, would 
 you? W T ho is he? Just see him hand the 
 ladies. O Lord !" 
 
 " W T hoishe, Bill?" 
 
 " Why, that's Buster, Dr. Buster, as they calla 
 him one of the most certain, immortal saints 
 in town, great among the female angels !" 
 
 " Buster Buster, I've heerd o' him some 
 place afore ; he's big and ugly enough to bust 
 into hell without a passport. " 
 
 " Well, if he's a saint, there's hope for me !" 
 
 On this particular day, Exeter Hall was 
 filled to its utmost capacity ; one would think 
 that the elite of the wealth and fashion of 
 Britain had deputed its most stylish to attend, 
 in order to convince the distinguished foreign 
 ers of the earnestness and orthodoxy of the 
 wealthy and high born of the United King 
 dom. Eminently credulous men, full of faith, 
 from distant lands, could be seen in the brilliant 
 assemblage, and there were great anticipa 
 tions that this day would furnish anothei
 
 94 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 triumphant proof of British benevolence, and 
 that another check would be given to the in 
 creasing skepticism and presumptuous infi 
 delity of the a ge. 
 
 While the spacious platform was crowded 
 with many of the most famous defenders and ex 
 pounders of the Bible in Great Britain, Ame 
 rica, France, Germany, and other countries, it 
 was remarkable that the higher dignitaries of 
 the Established Church were not to be seen 
 amongst them Where were the spiritual 
 princes of York and Canterbury 1 When was 
 the regal fisherman of Lambeth Palace V It 
 might be, however, that it would riot comport 
 with the dignity of an arclibishop thus to ex- 
 po*e himself to vulgar gaze, along with the 
 numbers of orce wild chiefs and cannibals that 
 were to be exhibited on that and the following 
 day, as triumphs of the Gospel. But when the 
 Bible has done so much to inculcate a regard 
 for the " powers that be," and lias so particu 
 larly secured for the English hierarchy such 
 an overflowing of worldly ease and comfort, 
 it might be only within bounds to expect that, 
 if for no other reason, even an assumed vene 
 ration for that holy book should induce " His 
 Grace" of Canterbury to appear there among 
 other humble Christians, and personally advo 
 cate its circulation. 
 
 However, the embodiment of piety and re 
 ligions talent which was this day to add such 
 additional lustre to " Gospel triumphs" seem 
 ed to git together like lambs of the same flock, 
 dutiful children of the same father a specta 
 cle of love and humility, on which men and 
 angels might gaze forever with delight. 
 What an exhibition ! A spiritual fraternity, 
 docile and submissive, striving not f'>r prece 
 dence, nor for the unholy superiority of creeds, 
 but all met again in the fear of the Lord, to 
 assist in the propagation of the " glorious Gos 
 pel." Men of every nation and clime here 
 met in fraternal embrace on this spacious 
 platform, as living proofs of Bible regenera 
 tion; and the skeptic or infidel might well 
 look confused when he saw a titled and 
 mitred bishop sit as contentedly side by side 
 with a converted Caflre or Ojibbeway chief, 
 as the Rev. Dr. Buster then and there sat 
 between his reverend friends, James Baker 
 and Jonah Hall. 
 
 As soon as the noble and distinguished pre 
 sident of the society, the Right Honorable the 
 Earl of Shaftesbury K.G., took his seat on the 
 platform, there was a murmur of applause 
 from the vast assembly, and the great organ 
 swelled forth its strains of solemn but exqui 
 site music ; and, now, as wave after wave of 
 harmony swept through the great hall, it had 
 its usual preparatory influence upon the feel 
 ings of all present. 
 
 A clergyman then opened the proceedings 
 with pmyer, and read the forty-fifth Psalm. 
 An abstract of the society's proceedings for 
 the year was then read, showing that the re 
 ceipts for the year, applicable to the general 
 purposes of the society, were nearly 90,000 
 sterling, being nearly 6000 over the preced 
 ing year, and greatly exceeding the annual 
 collections of any lormer period. The amount 
 received for the Bale of Bibles and Testaments 
 was 80,000, while the total receipts from the 
 
 ordinary sources of income amounted to about 
 169,000, being more than in any preceding 
 year ; and during the year the society had is 
 sued from its depots at home about 1,900,000 
 copies of the Scriptures, and from the foreign 
 depots 645,000 copies. 
 
 The grand total of copies issued by the so 
 ciety up to its sixtieth anniversary amounted 
 to over forty-jive and a half millions "of copies 
 of the word of God. at an expense of terfrai 
 millions sterling! The total expenditure for 
 the year was over 151 ,000, leaving the society 
 still under engagements to the extent of about 
 110,000* 
 
 It is quite probable that the issues of the 
 British and Foreign Bible Society now extend 
 to over fifty millions of copies ot the so-called 
 "word of God." Ac ually more than one 
 Bible for every minute of time of thelast^ixty 
 years, or since the establishment of the society. 
 Who can fairly prove that the world is any bet 
 ter for all this expenditure ? millions worse 
 than wasted in an insane idea to elevate human 
 ity by the degradation of reason ? Half of 
 what it has cost to circulate Bibles and teach 
 religion within the last fifty years, properly 
 disbursed for humane or educational purposes, 
 would have almost banished every trace of 
 poverty, and have given a more correct idea of 
 " what is truth " by leading men to see the 
 vicious principle of the false ideas, false 
 honor, false patriotism, and spurious benevo 
 lence which still govern and actuate priests 
 and rulers of all kinds throughout the world. 
 Talk of a religion of pence, while it seems that 
 war is the great idea of the ..uman race at the 
 present day ! Nations which claim to be emi 
 nently Christian are generally first in the field 
 of contest, and are continually making pre 
 parations for a further reliance on providence 
 by increasing their store of bullets, bayonets, 
 and bomb-shells. It has been asserted, as a 
 melancholy fact, that during the sixty-eight 
 years of this century, more human lives have 
 been sacrificed to the Moloch of war than in 
 any five centuries of history. The present 
 century may be said to have opened with the 
 French Rev ilution, while the year (1865) closed 
 the stupendous war of the rebellion among 
 Christian Americans ; and now, Christian Eu 
 rope is again ablaze with the pomp and cir 
 cumstance of war, there being already over 
 three millions of Christian men under arms, 
 awaiting a signal from the great destroyer to 
 commence their pastime of havoc; ecclesias 
 tical history, more than any other, is a dread 
 ful record of atrocity. The sentiment of the 
 age is for war ; impress the gilded and glitter 
 ing word " patriotism" upon the human heart, 
 and it almost blots out every trace of the im 
 print of humanity left there by the better 
 feelings of our nature. There is no confidence 
 between Christian nations. Chrihtian diplo 
 macy is but a system of polished duplicity 
 suspicion lurks in every cabinet and, as proof, 
 the armed peace of Christian Europe annually 
 costs the enormous sum of over 800,000.000 
 sterling. Talk of war, and the school-boy, 
 with " paper cap and wooden sword, plays the 
 
 * See British and Foreign Bible Society's report foj 
 June, 1804.
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 95 
 
 general ;" while the Utihop iays down his 
 Bible, and inarches from the pulpit to corn- 
 Maud a brigade.* In every gallery of art, the 
 busts of our " national heroes " obtain the 
 most conspicuous place ; and our numerous 
 costly monuments are nearly all for the pur 
 pose of enthroning in equestrian marble some 
 military demi-god, and elevating him nearer 
 to heaven. Shakespeare may remain perched 
 on a stool, while the column erected to a York 
 or a Nelson can almost touch the cross of St. 
 Pauls. 
 
 After the report was read, the president, 
 Lord Shaftesbury, addressing the ladies and 
 gentlemen, said, "That nothing had occurred 
 during the year to render it necessary for him 
 to interpose between them and the business 
 of the meeting. He had only to thank God 
 that this unhistorical, uninspired, unfortunate 
 and unnecessary book had been demanded 
 with redoubled avidity. They had upon that 
 platform proof of what he said. Among 
 others, they had ambassadors from the dis 
 tant island of Madagascar coming to record 
 the triumph of God's holy word in their own 
 land, ready and rejoicing to carry back to their 
 country a narrative of the triuniphs,which they 
 had witnessed in this. But he would not, by 
 saying any more, interrupt a far better speech 
 from a far better man, and he therefore called 
 upon the Lord Bishop of Winchester to move 
 the first resolution.! 
 
 The noble chairman, whose address, if it 
 possessed no other merit, had that of brevity. 
 Like most other Englishmen, he could not 
 refrain from alluding to the " triumphs" of 
 his native land. But as those to which he 
 more particularly referred were " of the Gos 
 pel," it might be well to notice a few of the 
 complaints of missionaries respecting their 
 want of success in foreign lands, and to show 
 that the " triumphs of God's holy word" in 
 distant climes are not altogether such as to 
 justify so many confident assertions from the 
 mighty spirits of Exeter Hall. 
 
 As to the achievements of missionary enter 
 prise, what forlorn accounts are regularly re 
 ceived, and how often has the terrible fact 
 been recorded of Christianized cannibals de 
 vouring their minister ! In India, and China, 
 and among distant islands, missionary zeal 
 has sacrificed many votaries ; and the accumu 
 lated offerings often made up of widows' 
 mites and gleanings from the poor have been 
 lavished without any commensurate results. 
 Yet the delusion is still kept up in England 
 and America ; and though pious periodicals 
 make urgent appeals for the " poor heathen," 
 and continue to gloss over actual failures, yet 
 some of these papers are forced to admit that 
 there are, occasionally, very depressing re 
 ports. 
 
 The Missionary Herald, of the American 
 Board for Foreign Missions, for June, 1863, 
 dolefully gives the following particulars : 
 
 * In the late rebellion in the United States, Bishop 
 Pc!k, a Southern churchman, was a Lieutenant-Gene- 
 ral in the confederate army, and was killed in action 
 on Pine Mountain in Georgia, June 14th, 18&4. 
 
 tThis is a slight abridgment of Lord Shaftesbury's 
 address at the meeting of the British and Foreign 
 Bible Society, in Exeter Hall, London, on May 4, 1864. 
 Author. 
 
 " That only seven per cent of the population 
 of Ceylon (2,000,000) should profess Chris 
 tianity, and that only two per cent should be Re- 
 formed or Protestant Christians, will be melan 
 choly facts, pregnant with solemn reflections 
 to many of our readers. But so it is, after all 
 that has been done to preach the Gospel and 
 distribute the Bible. The darkness of the pic 
 ture in our case is only relieved when the con 
 trast presented by continental India is regard 
 ed. In Ceylon, it may be said that .something 
 has been done, not merely to sap the outworks 
 of heathenism, but to build up the edifice 
 of Christianity. If ours is the day of small 
 things, what are we to say to India (British and 
 independent) with her two hundred millions 
 against our two, and her less than half a mill'oii 
 of Christians, say one fourth of one per cent 
 against our seven per cent ! When we say 
 half a, million, we allow for 130,000 Euro 
 pean Christians, including the civil service, 
 army, navy, merchants, planters, etc.; and we 
 give the most liberal margin for Romanists 
 papal and Portuguese, Syrian, Armenian, etc. 
 Subjected merely to the numerical test, Chris 
 tianity may be said to have made but small 
 progress either in India or Ceylon." 
 
 What an overwhelming waste of money 
 these missions have involved; and according 
 to the Herald, what " melanrhoH/ facts" are the 
 return two per cent in Ceylon, and less than 
 one fourth of one per cent in India! In a 
 subsequent issue of the same journal, giving 
 an account of the Mahratta Mission, in which 
 during the then last fourteen years over 
 $2 i,000 had been expended by one society 
 alone in efforts at conversion, it says, " Tho 
 account which Mr. Munger (the missionary 
 gives of the present *tate and prospects 01 
 missionary efforts in the Mahratta Mission i 
 not enci>urar/iny. Less than a dozen persons 
 constitute his stated Sabbath audience, and 
 these are from his own family, and the Chris 
 tian household connected with the mission. 
 His opportunities for preaching, during the 
 week also, he says, are less encouraging than 
 they were three years ar/o. There are fewer 
 persons who attend upon these religious ser 
 vices, and they manifest much less interest in 
 the facts of Christianity. He seldom meets the 
 young men who then were accustomed to come 
 in his way, and seemed disposed to become ac 
 quainted with Christian ideas. It is now four 
 teen years since the work of the Gospel was 
 commenced in this place. Much labor has 
 been undertaken : we have much des red suc 
 cess, and still we sow, and pray, and hope. I 
 hope I may be able to do something." 
 
 And this is all ! While missionaries " hope 
 and pray to be able to do something," the 
 poor unconverted heathen die and go to per 
 dition according to Christian theory and 
 the God who has promised to " answer 
 prayer'' will not open the eyes of the blind, 
 but will witness with indifference their grad 
 ual approach to the precipice of destruction ! 
 
 With respect to Chinese missions, another 
 American paper, the Herald says, " The pig 
 tail celestials of the ' flowery kingdom' do 
 not take very kindly to Christianity. With 
 twenty-four missionaries and twelve native 
 helpers in China, the American Foreign Mis-
 
 96 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 sion organization reports the 'baptism of a 
 first convert,' a man who was of ' respectable 
 condition.' Millions of money contributed in 
 the United States to convert the Chinese, and 
 the result is a solitary baptism ! Half the 
 money would have secured the baptism of ten 
 thousand worse heathens here at our own 
 door."* 
 
 From this statement, it is to be presumed 
 that the twelve "native helpers" are inter 
 preters mere hirelings each of whom, in 
 the intervals of service, burns-incense before 
 a " family god" in his own particular Joss- 
 House. 
 
 British journals have, time after time, ad 
 mitted that several missions to Papists, Jews, 
 and heathens have been deplorable failures. 
 And still restless visionaries continue to en 
 courage the religiously romantic to wander 
 ' from pole to pole" in costly and wasteful 
 attempts to supplant one absurdity by the 
 propagation of another, as if oblivious of the 
 personal and intellectual misery that broods 
 around the thousands of heathens at- home. 
 
 That distinguished London clergyman, Dr. 
 Pusey, admitting the folly of this pious ro 
 mance, says, " There are places in London, as 
 
 I have myself seen, where for generation af 
 ter generation the name of Christ has never 
 reached, and their inhabitants had much 
 better have been bom in Calcutta than in 
 London, because the charity which sends 
 forth Christian missionaries would the sooner 
 reach them." 
 
 So much, then, for my Lord Shaftesbury's 
 Gospel triumphs in foreign lands." 
 
 We are also told by the President of the 
 Bible Society, that the ambassadors from Mad 
 agascar would be ready and rejoiced to carry 
 back to their own land a narrative of the tri 
 umphs which they had witnessed in England. 
 Now for a recital of some of these, which are 
 
 *Dr. Livingstone. In one of his latest works on Africa, 
 said tti&t forty missionaries had been sacrificed to the 
 deadly climate of that continent, even before the first 
 heathen had been converted ! 
 
 As a set off, however, to the depressing missionary 
 reports given in this chapter, a late religious journal 
 (Feb. 1868) states that, ''Sixty years ago, there were 
 no Protestant 1'hristiaus in Travancore, Southern In 
 dia. Now, what do wo behold ? There are at this 
 point alone 27,000. and 500 native assistants, and 
 
 II ordained native ministers. At Nagercoil, rhe prin 
 cipal station in the district, there is a large Christian 
 village of 800 souls, a printing office, girls' boarding- 
 school, native church, and boys 1 school, with theologi 
 cal classes, with three European and two native or 
 dained missionaries. Wonderful triumphs of grace !" 
 
 And again: "There are now twenty-five Protes 
 tant missionary societies that are laboring in India. 
 Of thwse, three are organized in Scotland, eight in 
 England, one in Ireland, four on the continent of Eu 
 rope, and nine in America. These societies maintain 
 about 550 missionaries, and expend annually in that 
 country not far from $1,850,000." Montreal Daily 
 HVteoM, Feb. 1868. 
 
 These successes, after sixty years' labor, are said to 
 be "wonderful triumphs of grace I" but could less be 
 expected from such determined efforts to Christian 
 ize f And what more meagre result could be reason 
 ably anticipated where 550 active intelligent missiona 
 ries, sustained by an annual amount of ~$1 ,250,000. are 
 left among an unreasoning multitude already super- 
 Ktiiionsly prepared, to keep them from relapsing into 
 their native paganism ? Triumphs of grace ! Why, the 
 first Mormon church was organized only thirty-eight 
 years ago, (in April, 1&30:) it has sent its mUsionarles 
 to almost every part of the civilized world, and it al 
 ready claims about 800.000 converts. " rescued" from 
 Christianity I Are not these triumphs of the Mormon 
 gospel a greater wonder ? Author. 
 
 alas ! too openly displayed within the boun 
 daries of the Christian city of London. 
 
 Religion in that great metropolis has about 
 one thousand costly temples to accommodate 
 a wrangling multitude of contending sects, 
 whose mutual denunciations are often rather 
 startling. It has several thousand trained 
 priests divinely chosen who are willing to 
 manifest great anxiety for the " salvation of 
 sinners," and conduct them by various short 
 roads to heaven for ready pay. And as an 
 evidence of the great benefit arising from tho 
 teaching and practice of these davoted men, 
 there are to be found among the vast number 
 of metropolitan sinners one hundred thou 
 sand prostitutes, over one hundred and fifty 
 thousand thieves, robbers, and vagabonds ; 
 while, according to the estimate of an eminent 
 coroner, Dr. Lancaster, the result of a hidden 
 frailty is twelve thousand cases of infanticide 
 annually. There is, then, a large portion of a 
 standing army to intimidate into submission 
 a majority of the people, who would other 
 wise resist oppressive laws over which they 
 are denied a controlling voice. Then there 
 are thousands of policemen required to detect 
 crime, and numerous prisons, and judges, and 
 hangmen to deal with offenders ! The death 
 penalty is strictly scriptural ; therefore true 
 mercy is not yet the quality of Christian legis 
 lation. 
 
 But London is the headquarters of the state 
 church. What evidence can that church 
 give of its usefulness'? While some, like 
 Lord Shaftesbury, can boast of imaginary 
 triumphs, that particular and favored corner 
 of the " Lord's vineyard " can exhibit tangible 
 trophies ; and while like a mockery it can af 
 fect to despise " the pomps and vanities of 
 this wicked world," its two princely arch 
 bishops can conscientiously accept and divide 
 with each other 25,000 sterling, (over $120,- 
 000) annually for their spiritual superinten 
 dence, and its twenty-six other bishops can as 
 unscrupulously demand and distribute among 
 themselves, in the same way, over 135,000, 
 (about $650,000,) as compensation for their 
 pious services, and these exorbitant sums are 
 independent of what is derived from other 
 numerous sources of ghostly profit. Then 
 add to these the immense amount paid to the 
 increasing horde of the minor clerical adher 
 ents of the Established Church, and its use 
 fulness seems to consist in perpetuating a 
 monstrous fraud, and in impoverishing the 
 nation.* 
 
 Let the ambassadors from Madagascar wit 
 ness these "triumphs," and upon their return 
 to their native land, where even pagan savages 
 do not as regularly die of starvation, let them 
 narrate the sad tale of the ineffectual effort* 
 of 100,000 wandering paupers of ' London in 
 
 * A Philadelphia paper makes the following remarks : 
 " PAYING POSITIONS. It makes people's mouths water 
 to think of the revenue of some of the English eccle 
 siastical functionaries. The net .revenues of tho 
 Bishopric of London, for the year 1865, were $100,3*5 
 in gold ; of the Dean and Chapter of St. Paul's Cathe 
 dral, London, $54,350 in gold; and of the Dean and 
 Chapter of Westminster Abbey, $143,693 in gold."(l!) 
 Yet this very paper is noted for its obsequiousness to 
 the horde of wealthy sectarian priests in that Gospel- 
 blighted city, and does not utter one word against 
 such, priestly swindling. Aultor.
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 97 
 
 tlieir feeble endeavors to provide food, cloth- j and you have nothing on which to rest the sole 
 ing, and shelter. Let them witness the strug- of your foot." We lived, he said, in an age of 
 gle between hope and despair of these bap- controversy ; he did not regret it, for ho 
 tized Christians, and how sad and how reluc- : thought that the more they inquired into and 
 tantly many, very many of these let loose ' searched the Bible, the more they would find 
 
 their last hold on virtue to be hurried onward 
 and downward to crime by the extortion and 
 rapacity of priestcraft, and by the usurpation 
 of a selfish, unfeeling aristocracy. Perhaps 
 the narration of these triumphal woes might 
 even suffuse the eye of some dusky savage, 
 find tears might wear a channel on his painted 
 cheek. Yet, behold ! See our Christian bish 
 ops, and priests, and merchant princes, and 
 nobility stand by and look complacently on 
 these reputed "triumphs," and while ostenta 
 tiously giving a liberal donation for the 
 " spread of the Gospel," dole out but an in 
 significant pittance for the relief of their fam 
 ishing countrymen. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX.* 
 THE president took his seat, and all seemed 
 
 in it the true manna of the soul, that which 
 they needed for time and eternity. 
 
 After this specimen of prelatical support 
 and assumption, the resolution was seconded, 
 in a short but unmeaning speech, by Lord 
 Charles Russell. 
 
 A Methodist minister was then permitted 
 to move the second resolution ; he made a 
 very prosy display a mixture of pomposity, 
 pedantry, and egotism, which was highly ap 
 plauded by his own particular denomination, 
 but which otherwise seemed to produce a 
 wearying effect upon those who were compel 
 led to listen. 
 
 He was followed by the Bishop of Ripon, 
 who stated that he had observed from one of 
 the papers that a subscriber for the present 
 year had doubled his donation, because' the 
 Bible had become so much dishonored. He 
 sympathized with that feeling, for to him it 
 was a positive relief to express his unabated 
 
 anxious to hear the speech on the first resolu- i confidence and undiminished attachment, 
 tion, especially as it was to emanate from when the Bible had been dishonored by its 
 
 one of the mitred faculty whose veneration 
 for " The Word" had gradually increased with 
 his salary, and whose dower as a prelatical 
 bridegroom of the church militant is paid to 
 him in annual installments of ten thousand 
 five hundred pounds sterling, (about $52,000.) 
 When the applause subsided, the Lord 
 Bishop of Winchester said, that he stood 
 there as having been an old friend of the socie 
 ty for more than half a century, and had the 
 privilege to be numbered among its vice- 
 presidents. He had often reflected with plea 
 sure upon the second part of the description of 
 tlieir society, [it was the British and Foreign 
 Bible Society,] and when he had heard the list 
 of places in which the word of God had been 
 circulated during the past year, the importance 
 of the foreign branch was more forcible. Er 
 ror, like some of the disorders which affect the 
 human body, seemed to return from time to 
 time with periodical recurrence. The errors 
 of the present were the errors of the past. 
 Tin-re was nothing new under the sun, and as- 
 
 professed friends. This innuendo against a 
 brother bishop Colenso was received with 
 loud applause. But, he continued, if the 
 Bible had been dishonored by man, it has 
 been honored of God, as was manifested in a 
 greater amount of contributions than the 
 society had ever before received in one year ! 
 It was to him delightful to think, that amidst 
 all the contentions and division's by which the 
 visible church of Chrisst was unhappily so 
 much torn and divided, there should be one 
 sacred platform, upon which Christians of 
 every denomination could meet together, and 
 where all could agree that the Bible was the 
 word of God, to which one and all would 
 unitedly bow, and to which they rendered 
 homage as the supreme and only infallible 
 source of all-saving truth. They had met 
 there because they believed that the Bible 
 was the most blessed gift of God to a fallen 
 world, and it was the bounden duty of all 
 who possessed that inestimably precious trea 
 sure to endeavor to communicate it to those 
 
 suredly nothing new in skepticism and free wno had it not. He believed that they had 
 thinking. The Voltaires of another country, nothing to fear from the attacks to which the 
 and the Paines of their own, or the daring Bible was exposed ; there was nothing new 
 spirits of modern times, over whom they had in them, nothing that had not been often 
 to lament, and of whom they were ashamed, started before ; there was nothing, he believed, 
 but of whom they were not afraid, they had which the word of God did not prepare them 
 said nothing in that day which had not been i to expect in the last days. As was once said 
 said in times past. The Bible and the society j to one who was sneering at the word of God, 
 had suffered from recurring attacks, and some- and ridiculing the Bible as an imposture, 
 times among other disputes the Trinitarian ' " It is the existence of such men as you that 
 controversy divided their friends. He wished, ' makes me believe the Bible is true ; for the 
 as an old member of the society, very humbly, Bible tells us, that in the last days there shall 
 and with much deference, to make a sugges- , come scoffers, and if it were not for such per- 
 tion to maintain with the most unflinching sons as you, we should seem to want one cre- 
 
 resolution the supremacy of " dicine revela 
 tion. Unsettle that principle, and you shake 
 the foundation of your faith ; sap that pillar, 
 
 *The speeches contained in this chapter are an 
 abridgment of those delivered at the annual meeting 
 of the British and Foreign Bible Society, held in Exe 
 ter Hall, London, May 4th, 1864. 
 
 dential for the truth of the Bible." (!) 
 
 Verily if this be a valid claim for the truth 
 of Christian inspiration, it is one easily made, 
 and one which has often supported other tot 
 tering systems of error. God, continued the 
 Bishop, had made the Bible to be its own wit 
 ness, and had thereby placed within the reach
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 of the humblest inquirer the means of ascer 
 taining to Ms own satisfaction the divine au- 
 'hority of the message. (?) But they were not 
 to give up external evidence by which it may 
 be as satisfactorily established that the Bible 
 is the word of God ; that, with respect to the 
 Bible, while it was not given to man in order 
 to teach science, there was not a single sen 
 tence in the Bible contrary to true science ; 
 and that whatever appeared in science to con 
 tradict the word of God is rather to be 
 spoken of as "oppositions of science falsely 
 so called !" 
 
 If put to the test, the dogmatism of this 
 bishop might lead him into difficulty to find a 
 proof equal to his flippancy of assertion. How 
 doctors differ ! particularly those who claim to 
 be genuine successors even through a popish 
 parentage, of the inspired twelve. Yet truly 
 they may be apostolic in one sense ; for we 
 find by the revered Gospel records that their 
 authors were by no means unanimous on points 
 of faith and doctrine, and their inspired con 
 tradictions, as to time, place, circumstance, and 
 other essentials, have been a heritage of per 
 plexity to the more learned, dignified, and as 
 suming " right reverend fathers in God " of 
 these latter days. If God made the Bible to 
 be its own witness to the " humble inquirer," 
 the beneficed bishops can not claim to be of 
 that class : for no other body of men in Chris 
 tendom have tended to mystify the alleged 
 " plain meaning" of Scripture more than the 
 lordly prelatical teachers of Rome and Eng 
 land. Ah ! but science has dared to witness 
 against inspiration ! Science, that never errs, 
 but with the torch of truth in its good right 
 hand flashes down upon the deformity of 
 error, and upon its darkness, its mystery, and 
 its pretension. My Lord of Kipon, however, is 
 not abashed ; he still hugs this " best gift of 
 God," witli all its glaring inaccuracies, rather 
 than admit the opposition of this " science 
 falsely so called." 
 
 To men of determined faith, nothing is truth 
 that will expose an error in the Bible. Sim 
 ilar to the wisdom of an Indian prince, who, 
 it is said, trampled a microscope to pieces 
 because it revealed to his astonished view 
 living animalcula in the food and water from 
 which he had just partaken. Like many oth 
 ers, the Bishop of Kipon tells us, in one breath, 
 that the Bible was not given to man to teach 
 science evidently in doubt himself of its scien 
 tific correctness and yet that there was no 
 thing in it contrary to true science ! Now, were 
 philosophers to admit such an anomaly & false 
 science, we wonder where it could be found 
 more elaborately displayed than among the 
 ' sacred pages" of " God's most blessed gift 
 to man." 
 
 However, the bishops are not all so incau 
 tious. Many excuses and explanations have 
 been framed for the extraordinary legends of 
 biblical cosmogony ; and if the superior intel 
 ligence, or more general investigation of the 
 age has forced a reluctant assent from many 
 of the clerical savants, it is satisfactory to find 
 one so spiritually and temporally endowed as 
 the right honorable and right reverend the 
 Lord Bishop of London yielding so gracious 
 ly. In one of his discourses, published about 
 
 the very time the steadfast Ripon spoke sc 
 confidently as to the agreement of the Bible 
 with true science, he said, " it is satisfactorj 
 to feel assured that no clergyman of the 
 Church of England can be called on to main 
 tain the unwarranted position, which indeed 
 scarcely any hold, that the Bible is an infalli 
 ble guide in questions of physical science.'' 
 What an admission ! Until lately, the almost 
 universal orthodox cry resounded that the 
 Bible was absolute truth, in whole or in part ; 
 that it should lead in science as in principle's 
 of faith ; and now, alas! for its worshipers ! 
 able clerical disputants contend for and against 
 the validity of its science and its inspiration, 
 and even venture to question its entire credi 
 bility. 
 
 The Rev. " Cannon" Stowell next addressed 
 the assemblage. He said, that although it 
 had been his privilege to attend the anniver 
 sary meetings of that institution, he never re 
 membered to have taken part in one of so pro 
 foundly interesting a character, especially so 
 on account of the gathering assault that was 
 making on the great citadel of their faith 
 the inspired word of God. Not, alas ! simply 
 from without, but from within the visible 
 church. If there were any originality at all 
 in the attack, it was not found in the argu 
 ments, but in the men who employ them. It 
 was this which gave such an apparent authen 
 ticity to those arguments, not from any intrin 
 sic weight that belonged to them. The Bri 
 tish and Foreign Bible Society was giving such 
 men one of the best refutations. It was show 
 ing that to simple, humble, hbnest. believing 
 men, those arguments were without power or 
 conviction. That society had written upon its 
 colors : " The Bible, the whole Bible, and 
 nothing but the Bible ;" it was truth without 
 a mixture of error. He considered the ques 
 tion of the inspiration of the Bible as the ques 
 tion of the day ; the one on which his reve 
 rend brethren more particularly ought to be 
 established. He thanked God that that socie 
 ty held strenuously to the whole Bible ; for they 
 never could sever the Old and New Testa 
 ments ; they stood or fell together. The New 
 rested on the shoulders of the Old ; if they 
 struck down one, they infallibly brought down 
 the other. The Old Testament was the divine 
 porch to the temple of the New, and he who 
 did not enter the temple by the front door 
 could never find the eternal truths of God. 
 The Old Testament Scriptures were not super 
 seded ; on the contrary, they were.it possible. 
 more intelligible, more impressive, more vital 
 than ever. Then let "the Bible, the whole 
 Bible, and nothing but the Bible" be the watch 
 word of that society. The more the evidences 
 of Christianity were examined, the more they 
 would be found impregnable, ii subvertible. 
 The martyrs knew the Bible to be true. They 
 had heard much of the loaders of the noble 
 army of martyrs their (Jranmers, Latimers, 
 'and Ridleys ; but they had heard too little of 
 poor peasants, and mechanics, and simple wo 
 men who had died for their Bible. What a 
 noble testimony it was, that men who could 
 not write for it, or could not argue for it, yet 
 could die for it ; and, by dying for it, could give 
 the noblest evidence of its truth. He would
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 99 
 
 beg of them not to be disturbing their minds 
 by the doubts and objections that were float 
 ing about ; they had only to wait, and truth 
 must come forth triumphant from the strug 
 gle. The suggesting difficulties of art, his 
 tory, and arithmetic need not be met until 
 they were worth meeting ; silence was often 
 the best answer. Let scientific objections, 
 novel speculations, and vain calculations bend 
 to the Bible ; they could not consent that the 
 Bible should bend to them. It would indicate 
 a sense of insecurity, were they always en 
 deavoring to meet objections. One beautiful 
 passage in the word of God was worthy of 
 all acceptance at that juncture, " Let God be 
 true, and every man a liar." Let critical inge 
 nuity find out, as it could, various difficulties 
 and doubts, yet " let God be true, and every 
 man a liar." That was still their confidence. 
 There might be errors of translation ; passages 
 that ought to be eliminated, there might have 
 been introductions of slight mixtukeu ; but still, 
 the word of God in its integrity, as it came 
 from those guided by the hand of God, con 
 tained " the truth, the whole truth, and 
 nothing but the truth." (!) " They should spread 
 it wherever man was found ; they should 
 trust in the Bible, rest on the Bible, live by the 
 Bible, die in the faith of the Bible, and it would 
 carry them safe to a land where there was no 
 more doubt or darkness." 
 
 Were it necessary to obtain the testimony 
 of a blind believer in "divine revelation." it 
 would be difficult to find one more explicit or 
 satisfactory than that contained in the priest 
 ly harangue of this reverend canon of the 
 British State Church. It might be uncharita 
 ble to assert that such persons are, perhaps, as 
 much influenced on behalf of the Bible by the 
 certainty of worldly comforts and distinctions, 
 which it has insured to priests as a class, as 
 they are by the promises of a future reward in 
 another state of existence, where neither bene 
 fices, pluralities, n<.r dignities come into view 
 to distract the head or burden the conscience. 
 But when we reflect that it is comparatively 
 but a short period back in history since the cler 
 ical predecessors of the reverend canon, like 
 the "sainted I'ranmer," were, for the sake of 
 earthly endowments, just as ready to rise into 
 oratorical flights concerning the infallibility 
 of popish decrees and tradition as they are 
 now to denounce the " Man of Sin," and stu 
 pidly cry out, " The Bible, the whole Bible, and 
 nothing but the Bible," one might not be far 
 astray in imputing this vacillating zeal to 
 their characteristic greed, instead of to their j 
 more particular or conscientious regard for 
 truth. For gain, theology has canonized 
 many popular absurdities. 
 
 But then we are told that there is " nothing 
 ori'/iiHtl" in the attack, nothing novel in the 
 arguments. What a subterfuge, what conso- ' 
 l.ition! It would indeed be a lever in the 
 hands of priests were they truly able to assert 
 that the infidel objections of the pivsent dayj 
 were but novelties witnesses which had 
 never testified before ; but because these ob 
 jections are nld, and have thereby acquired 
 additional force; because they have been the 
 protest of reason against superstition century 
 after century, even from the beginning, they 
 
 are, therefore, according to the decree of our 
 present clerical prodigies, to be considered but 
 mere trivialities, and only deriving " apparent 
 authenticity" on account of having been re 
 iterated by a new race of skeptics. Another 
 specimen of priestly quibbling. It is well 
 known that the chimeras of religion have 
 ever been made to appear more worthy of ven 
 eration while shaded and festooned' by the 
 cobwebs of antiquity. 
 
 Were the objectors to Christianity none 
 but " simple, humble, honest, believing men," 
 such as were so paternally referred to by the 
 reverend canon, how boastfully the clmrch, 
 could speak of the intelligence of its adher 
 ents ; but because those who venture to judge 
 the Bible according to its wild but positive 
 statements and extravagant narration are 
 really among the most enlightened and dis 
 criminating, we are sagely told, that the " best 
 refutation" of their arguments against revela 
 tion is that " poor peasants, and mechanics, 
 ami simple women" remain steadfast and " had 
 died for their Bible." One might wonder at 
 the temerity which could lead his reverence 
 to try to intellectually degrade mecJianics by 
 including them in such a classification. It is 
 well known that the artisans of Great Britain, 
 like most of those in other countries, are gen 
 erally found siding with the intelligent objec 
 tors to a domineering superstition ; and a large 
 majority of those very mechanics continue 
 stubborn and determined in their resistance to 
 clerical oppression. Of this, there is abundant 
 proof. So much for the mechanics.* But as 
 suming that the reverend canon had confined 
 himself strictly to the truth, could the fact of 
 there being, or having been, any number of 
 " poor, simple, humble women," or peasants, 
 or mechanics, awed, mystified, or deluded by 
 the " foolishness of preaching" be fairly 
 claimed as a refutation of the sound reason 
 able arguments against biblical assertion ? It 
 is obvious that such a concession to the misty 
 logic of Exeter Hall would grant equal sta 
 bility to the pretensions of popery or pagan 
 ism, or of any other ism which could produce a 
 multitude of " poor, simple, humble," ignorant 
 
 * In an article on " The Working Classes and Chris 
 tianity," the London Patriot says : ' That not fire per 
 cent of the working classes that is, of the true haud- 
 dicraftsmen, from the skilled optical instrument 
 maker and engineers, down to the bricklayers' la 
 borers ever enter the churches and chapels with 
 which this professedly Christian land is covered. Per 
 haps it is true ; certainly if, must be something near the 
 truth. Very few artisans are to be seen in the tine 
 churches of the establishment, or in the chapels of the 
 Coiifjregationaliflts. In some parts of the country, and 
 amongst some classes of laborers, the Wesleyans have 
 had their successes; but the very large majority of at 
 tendants at \Vesleyan chapels are, we take it, gathered 
 from the small shop-keepers also.'' 
 
 A clergyman the Rev. Edward White anxious to 
 discover the cause of this ' religious indifference," ro- 
 solved to go among the working-men and ask them 
 personally, "Why they never went to church?" lie 
 gives the replies as taken down. The following are 
 specimens: "The parsons are a bad lot." "It's their 
 living, that's why they preach." " The parsons are at 
 the bottom of all the villainy." ' They preach, but 
 very lew of them practice." "There's not a worse 
 class of men on earth than bishops and parsons." "It's 
 all done to frighten the people, and to keep them 
 down." " I had enough of religion and imprisonment 
 at the Sunday-school?' "I went to church to get 
 married, and that's enough for me." Such ready re 
 plies from several " aimpte rnecttaHtas" are full of meal 
 lug.
 
 100 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 supporters. If simplicity and credulity are 
 sufficient to counterbalance intelligence and 
 investigation, then Christianity and cognate 
 forms of superstition have gained the day. 
 
 The Bible is such a "tower of strength" to 
 believers that its arrogant and mercenary 
 teachers are never tired of asserting its " im 
 pregnability." Assault and undermine this 
 crumbling fortress of inspiration as you may. 
 its reverend Goliaths will rave away as loftily 
 as ever, and furiously brandish their broken 
 weapons ; and as they proudly strut about on 
 the ruins of the " older and outer works" of 
 the fated citadel, will boastfully shout of its 
 " insubvertibility," even while the calm and 
 impartial spectator can observe the sinking or 
 overturning of its very foundations. 
 
 We are told from the platform of Exeter 
 Hall that the " suggesting difficulties of art, 
 history, and arithmetic need not be met ; that 
 silence was often the best answer." What 
 an evidence of weakness ! If the professed 
 learning of our mitred heads anVl apostolical 
 successors, " legitimate" or " spurious," can 
 suggest nothing better than that science 
 " must bend to the Bible," it is but too plain 
 that they are reduced to the last extremity. 
 They, proudly confident, do not feel themselves 
 called upon to argue with unbelievers ; " it 
 would indicate a sense of insecurity !" Pressed 
 by their adversaries, however, they now admit 
 that "there may be errors of translation !" 
 How many? " Slight mistakes !" What num 
 ber ? Superfluous y>assa ges ! To what extent ? 
 Alas ! how reluctantly these forced admissions 
 are laid at the feet of truth admissions, 
 which, to make but a few years since, would 
 be looked upon a* a shipwreck of faith, almost 
 sufficient to insure expulsion from the fold. 
 The time is fast approaching when the hired 
 advocates of a withering error shall be exhibit 
 ed to the world in their proper character. 
 
 While Christian teachers are thus obliged 
 to change their position and resort to succes 
 sive new modes of defense, every assertion on 
 behalf of their " divine book" seems to involve 
 a fresh contradiction ; and when confronted 
 by the " suggesting difficulties of art, his 
 tory, arithmetic, and science," our pulpit 
 demi-gods, after the manner of their pagan 
 prototypes, enshroud themselves in mystery, 
 and cry out incoherently from behind their 
 shifting cloud, " The Bible, the Bible ; let 
 God be true, and every man a liar." 
 
 Other speakers followed in praise or defense 
 of the " grand old story of the Pentateuch ;" 
 but nothing particular was offered a mere 
 change of futile assertions. One would ex 
 pect, however, that from such a celebrity as the 
 Reverend C. H. Spurgeon some powerful rea 
 sons would be given in support of the " Book 
 of Books ;" but when we extract his ideas 
 from the cloud of verbiage which he exhibited, 
 we find but the merest trivialities. 
 
 With regard to objections against the Bible, 
 he said, that for his part he did not under 
 take the task of refuting them, because he 
 believed the logical facul'y in him was too 
 small ; that if he were to talk against arith 
 metical objectors, he should be like the boy in 
 the churchyard who whistled to keep his cour 
 age up. lie did not think it was his particular 
 
 work, and he believed that ninety-nine out of 
 every hundred Christians were not called foi 
 the defense of the Gospel against infidel ob 
 jectors, so much as the pressing of that Gos 
 pel home to men's hearts. He took it that 
 while it wa-s necessary to show the true quali 
 ty of the Bible, it was also necessary to show 
 the true answer to objectors. His metal was 
 of such a kind that he thanked God when the 
 adversaries of truth were loudest. A slumber 
 ing devil was more to be feared than a roaring 
 devil. Let the devil roar ; he should but wake 
 them up from their slumbers, and make them 
 more earnestly contend for truth. Why were 
 there no objections to the Bible twenty years 
 ago from high and eminent places? Because 
 they were not necessary to Satan's ends. (!) He 
 wished them to go and evangelize London, to 
 scatter light in the dark alleys, to carry the 
 Gospel to the South Seas and Africa, and make 
 the whole world ring with it, and they need 
 not stop to answer objections. .That was the 
 best logic that was the noblest argument 
 the application of the word. The way to se 
 cure the masses would be to secure them when 
 young. 
 
 He remembered being greatly puzzled 
 when he was a child. On a shelf in his 
 grandmother's parlor was a little vial, con 
 taining an apple just the size of the largest 
 part of the bottle. He got the vial down, and 
 tried to find out how the apple could pos 
 sibly have got down that narrow neck. He 
 thought that the vial must have had a false 
 bottom. But it happened, quite accidentally, 
 that this great mystery of nature became un 
 raveled. One day, as he walked in the gar 
 den, it occurred to him that his grandmother 
 had put a little apple inside the bottle while 
 it was growing, and it had grown there to its 
 present size. He could not but t4iink*of that 
 while standing there. They could not get 
 Snen under biblical influence very readily 
 after they were grown up ; but if they could be 
 put inside the bottle when they were little 
 ones, he was sure they would be following the 
 analogy of nature. He found commentaries 
 very useful ; but, after all, many a text that 
 would not open to a commentary would open 
 to prayer. Just as the stone-breakers went 
 down on their knees to break' the flints on a 
 heap, he believed they often broke up texts 
 better on their knees than in any other posi 
 tion 
 
 They should cultivate the highest reverence 
 for God's word, especially as to their obedience 
 to it. The Bible was to be the great pacifica 
 tor of all sects, the great hammer of all 
 schismatics. The Bible was to be the end of 
 all disunion. 
 
 It is evident that, like many others, this last 
 speaker had attained his popularity by special 
 appeals to the feelings, instead of to the rea 
 son. The fine, studied, pulpit oratory of the 
 day is mostly a grand display of flashing 
 metaphors, a meeting of fancy and ideality in 
 the regions of cloudy splendor, depicting as 
 realities the castellated piles and numerous 
 beautiful forms that rise up and appear in 
 golden and roseate hues on the aerial moun 
 tains of the imagination. Here, the preacher 
 is at home ; here he delights his excited audi
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 101 
 
 ence. But let him descend to the solid earth, 
 let him come down to hard facts, and he may 
 say with the Rev. Mr. Spurgeon, that he 
 dislikes the task of refutation. Like the Mo 
 hammedan, ho is satisfied with the inspira 
 tion of hi* book ; he heeds not objections, and 
 is only anxious for its circulation, " to make 
 the world ring with it." 
 
 But even then, notwithstanding all the 
 glory which Exeter Hall has tried to fling 
 around the Christian Scriptures, we obtain 
 another admission, " That old birds can not 
 be caught with chaff!" The masses must be 
 secured "when young," or not at all. You 
 must catch them, and boWe them, and mould 
 their ideas within the circle of theology, and 
 by that means secure a new generation of 
 Christians. The Jews, the Brahmins, and the 
 Mohammedans succeed admirably on the 
 same principle ; while skepticism alone ob 
 tains its reinforcements from the vigorous 
 ranks of maturity. 
 
 Many of the 'sturdy preachers of the pres 
 ent day were hottled into theology hy their 
 grandmothers, and they have never yet been 
 uncorked. These are the class who, like Spur 
 geon, overcome theological difficulties on 
 their knees ; and the flinty text that will 
 neither yield to commentaries nor c >mmon 
 sense, is sure to be reduced to powder 
 beneath the potent influence of faith. These 
 are they who believe that the Bible, which 
 has been for generations dividing and subdi 
 viding, and which has been claimed as their 
 justification by opposing ranks of furious 
 zealots truly a sword on the earth is yet to 
 be the great hammer of all schismatics the 
 end of all disunion ! Assertions of this 
 character will gain more credence upon the 
 exact fulfillment of the prediction which 
 states that, " The wolf shall lie down with 
 the lamb" and " the lion eat straw like an 
 ox" ! But, as the question of prophetical 
 inspiration remains yet undecided, it is prob 
 able that the fulfillment may be deferred to 
 an indefinite period. 
 
 Every one of the speakers at Exeter Hall, on 
 referring to the Bible, affirmed its full and en 
 tire inspiration in the most positive manner. 
 The Bishop of Winchester asserted that the di 
 vine inspiration of the Scripture " should be 
 maintained with the most unflinching resolu 
 tion ;" that to unsettle that principle was to 
 shake the foundation of faith, and leave 
 nothing on which to rest. Strange that his 
 immediate predecessor. Bishop Law, should 
 have held sach a different opinion. This pre 
 late, in his work on the Elements of Christian 
 Theol'igy, says : 
 
 " When it is said that the Scriptures are di 
 vinely inspired, we are not to understand that 
 God suggested every word and dictated every 
 expression ; it appears that the sacred penmen 
 were permitted to write as their several tem 
 pers, understandings, and habits of life direct- 
 eel ; and that the knowledge communicated to 
 them by inspiration on the subject of their 
 writings was applied in the same manner as 
 any knowledge acquired by ordinary means. 
 Nor is it to be XUJI/HW*! that they -were thus in 
 spired in ever// fact which they related, or in 
 every precept which they delivered." 
 
 One would think that such an opinion from 
 a mitred head and learned theologian would 
 have a great tendency to " unsettle " the ques 
 tion of scriptural inspiration and to " shake 
 the foundation of faith." 
 
 Another bishop Hinds of Norwich says 
 
 " It is not, therefore, truths of all kinds which 
 the Bible is inspired to teach, but only such 
 truth as tends to re-'igious edification ; and the 
 Bible is consequently infallible as far as re 
 gards this, and this 'jilon-f." This is another 
 blow against plenary inspiration, and leaves us 
 completely in doubt as to whether the account 
 of the creation of the world, or scriptural his 
 tory, be true or false. 
 
 Bishop Hamden, of Hereford, says : 
 
 " So independent is the science of ethics of 
 the support and ennobling which it receives 
 from religion that it would be nothing strange 
 or objectionable in a revelation were we to find 
 embodied in its language much of the false 
 ethical philosophy which systems may have es 
 tablished !" Archbishop Whately favors this 
 view in the following passage : 
 
 " In matters unconnected, indeed, with reli 
 gion, such as points of history or natural phi 
 losophy, a writer who professes (as the apostles 
 do) to be communicating a divine revelation 
 imparted to him, through the means of^nira- 
 cle, may be as liable to error as other men. 
 without any disparagement to his preten 
 sion !" 
 
 Le Clerc, a great Christian writer, in his 
 disquisition upon inspiration, remarks : " It 
 may be said that the books in the Jewish 
 canon ought to be acknowledged as divinely 
 inspired, rather than the Apocrypha, that 
 were never in it. I answer, first, that no 
 clear reason is brought to convince us that 
 those who made the canon, or catalogue of 
 their books, were infallible, or had any inspir 
 ation whereby to distinguish inspired books 
 from those which were not inspired." 
 
 And the great Neander writes, " It must be 
 regarded as one of the greatest boons which 
 the purifying proc- ss of Protestant theology 
 in Germany has conferred on the faith, as well 
 I as science, that the old mechanical view of in 
 spiration has been so generally abandoned!" 
 
 Among other prominent orthodox writers, 
 Arnold, Coleridge, Kingsley, Morell, Maurice, 
 and Macnaught are clergymen who sustain 
 the same views. 
 
 A large number of the orthodox, however, 
 are shocked at these opinions ; and one, the 
 Rev. Mr. Noble, in supporting plenary inspir 
 ation, asks : 
 
 " Now, how do the free thinkers receive 
 these concessions so liberally made '! The 
 advocates of revelation may be regarded as 
 saying to them, ' See ! we have come half 
 way to meet you ; surely, you will not obsti 
 nately refuse belief, now that we require you 
 to believe so little.' What does the free 
 thinker answer? He says, 'You are admit 
 ting, as fast as you can, that we are in the 
 right. If you, who view the subject throuph 
 the prejudices of your profession, are con 
 strained to give up half of what we demand, 
 unbiassed persons will augur from the ad 
 mission that truth would require a surrendei 
 of the whole.' " The reverend gentleman then
 
 102 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 exclaims, " No, my friends and brethren. He 
 who would effectually defend the Christian 
 faith must take his stand on higher ground 
 than this. What! tell the world that to es 
 cape the increasing influence of infidelity 
 they must surrender the plenary inspiration 
 of the Scriptures ! As well might we tell 
 them that to obtain security when a flood is 
 rising they should quit the top of a moun 
 tain to take refuge in a cave at its base. 
 
 " Assuredly this is a state of things calcu 
 lated to fill the breast of the sincere and hum 
 ble Christian with profound concern if not with 
 deep alarm. On the one hand, he beholds 
 divine revelation assaulted with unprecedented 
 fury and subtlety by those who avow them 
 selves its enemies ; on the other, he sees it half 
 betrayed and deserted by those who regard 
 themselves as its friends. Every devout be 
 liever in revelation feels an inward predilec 
 tion for the opinion that the inspiration of 
 a divinely communicated writing must be 
 plenary and absolute. He feels great pain on 
 being told that this is a mistaken notion ; that 
 he must surrender many things in the sacred 
 writing to the enemy to retain any chance 
 of preserving the rest ; that he must believe 
 the writers of the Scriptures to have been 
 liable to error, as a preliminary to his assur 
 ance that the religion of the Scriptures is true. 
 Surely, every one whose heart does not take 
 part with the assailant of his faith must be 
 glad to be relieved from the necessity of 
 making surrenders so fatal." 
 
 If men trained to theology and "called" to 
 preach the Gospel can so dispute among them 
 selves concerning the full or the partial inspi 
 ration of the Christian Scriptures a very es 
 sential matter how are " poor peasants and 
 simple women" to decide the question ? 
 Either they must blindly believe as, indeed, 
 many do all that is recorded in " divine rev 
 elation" about the creation of the world, the 
 flood, and the other strange events, or else 
 doubt the whole. It is positive stupidity to 
 follow priestly " blind guides," who are them 
 selves merely groping in the dark, not only 
 on the question of inspiration, but on other 
 points of equal importance; and it is a delu 
 sion to countenance any longer that broad 
 farce of " infallibility," which presumptuous 
 teachers still set up for their respective 
 churches. With all the glaring defects of 
 their religious system, these men periodically 
 attend at Ex<'ter Hall, and unblushingly de 
 mand more money to continue the circulation 
 of a so-called revelation, as being " truth 
 without a mixture of error," but which " sci 
 ence, art, and history" have proved false, and 
 which has been already rejected as spurious 
 by a vast number of the thoughtful and intel 
 ligent in every part of the world. 
 
 As an evidence of public opinion on this 
 subject, about the time the great Bible Society 
 meeting took place, the London Morning Mail 
 published the following remarks: 
 
 " The May meetings of Exeter Hall are now 
 in full blast. Sanctimonious pride walks the 
 stage, and blatant hypocrisy invokes the sym 
 pathy and material aid of assembled thou 
 sands for objects impossible of accomplish 
 ment Under pretense of forwarding these 
 
 objects, a host of secretaries replenish theii 
 purses, and missionaries, ministers, and agents 
 of all sorts draw fat and easy salaries. From 
 real misery at their very doors, these men turn 
 away, and fix their gaze on objects perfectly 
 ideal. As to so-called missionary operations 
 in other countries, experience has shown how 
 little dependence is to be placed on the repre 
 sentations made by saintly secretaries, and by 
 the pious movers and seconders of resolutions 
 who figure on these occasions. Missionaries 
 are not content merely to thrive upon the cre 
 dulity a portion of the British public afford 
 them. In New-Zealand, as we know, they 
 have been the great instigators of the Maori 
 insurrection ; in connection with the Chinese 
 rebels, they have played a part by no means 
 creditable, and have sought to mislead public 
 opinion as to the objects had in view by those 
 murdereis and cut throats called the Taepings. 
 As to the home objects represented by the Ex 
 eter Hall fanatics, we would only be too glad 
 to point to any results proportionate to the 
 amount of money placed at their disposal. It 
 is humiliating to see such a superabundance 
 of false sentimentality in the community 
 such readiness on the part of thousands to be 
 come the dupes of designing men. As long 
 as a set of benighted spinsters can be found to 
 contribute to the support of these vagrant 
 Spurgeons, so long must the Exeter Hall gath 
 erings prosper. They enjoy a certain amount 
 of excitement, and pay the price. We should 
 be glad, indeed, could we disabuse them of the 
 idea that Exeter Hall is the straight road to 
 heaven." 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 ALTHOUGH the meeting in the regulai Bap 
 tist church failed to appoint a delegate to the 
 great Bible Society anniversary at Exeter 
 Hall, yet, as has been noticed, it did not deter 
 the rival heads of the antagonistic sects from 
 making their appearance on that occasion ; 
 and it singularly happened that, from the unu 
 sual crowd of clergy and foreigners, the mod 
 erator, Dr. Buster, was forced to take a chair 
 between his reverend opponents. James Baker 
 and Jonah Hall. This was rather a trying 
 position ; there could be no friendly side- whis 
 pers between them as among others. Within 
 two inches of his right elbow, his Methodistic 
 friend Baker sat rigid and stern ; while equal 
 ly ckse, on the other side, the humorous Jonah 
 seemed to enjoy his proximity to so much 
 greatness : and though he tried hard to as 
 sume the conventional gravity of " the cloth," 
 yet occasionally his eyes would turn obliquely 
 on the portly form of the moderator, and a 
 faint smile would appear as he thought of his 
 late discomfiture. 
 
 The doctor, indeed, could have wished him 
 self any where else ; he looked crest-fallen, and 
 it was to him a particular trial of human na 
 ture to wear that lamb-like expression so re 
 quisite under the converging gaze of Christian 
 eyes from all quarters of the great building, 
 lie felt greatly mortified, especially as he knew 
 that a crowd of admiring friends and many 
 devoted ladies wished to hear his sonorous
 
 EXETER HALL, 
 
 103 
 
 voice on behalf of the Bible ; but the mean i stretched his lazy length across the sunlil 
 jealousy of the very men between whom he doorway, and William, who was more delicate 
 was now placed prevented the delivery of the than ever, laid his head in Hannah's lap, and 
 
 eloquent speech which he had prepared with 
 such labor, and had saved infidelity from the 
 withering 1 rebuke which he felt himself able 
 to give, and which might have exalted him in 
 the opinion of the foreign deputations of true 
 believers. Yet, were there no such jealousy, 
 were that obstacle to his usefulness removed, 
 and were he even surrounded on that platform 
 by such trusty male and female saints as usu 
 ally greeted him in the pleasant parlor of his 
 subordinate, the Rev. Alexander Campbell it 
 would not avail. He could not command a 
 word or arrange an idea on any subject 
 while there was one man unexpectedly present 
 who he believed could guess at his thoughts, 
 who knew something of his motives, and who 
 might have witnessed an act which an enemy 
 could turn greatly to his disadvantage. That 
 man he feared and hated, and were it possible 
 to have annihilated him with a scowl, the rev 
 erend doctor would have done so. 
 
 Almost immediately in front of the platform, 
 
 looked up through the lattice-work at the 
 bright blue sky, and watched the flitting 
 clouds as they passed along ; while she, with 
 monotonous voice, read, for their mutual edifi 
 cation, passages from her treasured little book, 
 the PUyriin's Progress. Now and then, aa 
 some particular part concerning Christian or 
 Evangelist, or some other of the many charac 
 ters depicted in that popular similitude needed 
 explanation, and while still looking up, he 
 would ask Hannah ; and often after she had 
 tried to unriddle the mystery, she would leave 
 it more unintelligible than ever. She seemed, 
 as usual, to be wonderfully interested in the re 
 hearsal of the narrative ; she must have read 
 it over and over more than twenty times, and 
 he would be a fool indeed who could seek to 
 rob her simple soul of the pleasant emo 
 tions which its perusal afforded by trying to 
 convince her that it had no reality. There 
 are certain minds more pleased with the sha 
 dow of mystery than with the broad light of 
 
 Martin Mannors, and his wife, and daughter | naked fact. 
 
 After a long pause in his inquiries, during 
 which William seemed to have been specula- 
 
 were seate:!. Mr. Capel and Samuel Styles were 
 also present. Mr. Mannors seemed in a com 
 
 placent study of the different faces before him, 
 arid no one listened with greater attention to 
 the several speeches delivered on the occasion. 
 But when his look happened to rest for a mo 
 ment on the moderator's face, that, dignitary 
 appeared to be affected with a nervous twitch 
 ing of the right eye, which caused him repeat 
 edly to adjust his gold mounted glass as if 
 merely desirous of scanning the vast assembly. 
 His situation was evidently very unpleasant, 
 yet the doctor sustained the part he was forced 
 to a?t; and, on the evening of that day, when 
 
 again in the house of his friend, the pastor of 
 
 St. Andrews, the moderator once more wore 
 
 the saintly smile of a martyr. He expressed 
 
 the satisfaction he had felt in having been per- " Why doesn't pa pray he never prays. 
 
 mitted to take even a secondary part at the j he wicked, and won't he go to heaven 1" 
 
 ting on the height of the clouds or the depth 
 of the blue sky, he suddenly asked : 
 
 " Hannah, why does ma pray why do you 
 pray ?" 
 
 She raised her eyes from the book, and, look 
 ing down at his pale face, said : " Pray ? Why, 
 God tells us to pray, we must pray for what 
 we want ; we can't get to heaven unless we 
 do so. Wicked people never pray." 
 
 "Never? Then won't God give us what 
 we want, or let us go to heaven unless we 
 pray ?" 
 
 " No; never. We must all pray all, every 
 one." 
 William thought awhile, and then said: 
 
 Is 
 
 great meeting ; it was the part he most admir 
 ed. To sit at the feet of the eminent Christ inns 
 who had spoken, and to hear and learn from 
 them was most in accordance with his own 
 feelings ; and as he lisped Gospel promises to 
 the pious sisters who were present, he rubbed 
 his hands in ecstasy and blessed the Lord for 
 what had been done that day in Exeter Hall 
 for the further spread of the "glorious Gos 
 pel." 
 
 While Mr. Mannors and his friends were 
 
 listening to the prominent and distinguished j indeed.' 
 
 Hannah hesitated for a time, and then re 
 plied, " Oh ! your pa will soon pray, God 
 will make him do so ; he will, and then, when 
 you die you'll see him with ma in heaven." 
 
 " Will Pop be there, too '!" 
 
 " Yes, Miss Mary will be up there with the 
 angels." 
 
 " Why doesn't God make every one pray, 
 why didn't he make every body good ?" 
 
 "Oh! well," said Hannah, pausing, and 
 somewhat perplexed, " I don't know I don't, 
 
 expounders of the Bible at the great meeting, 
 Hannah and William remained at home; and 
 after she had bustled through her morning's 
 work, and put things in order all through the 
 house, she and William and John Bunyan of 
 course retired from the busy outer world, mid, 
 like humble pilgrims, took refuge in the sum 
 mer-house. There, surrounded with young, 
 aspiring vines and tender creeping 'plants, 
 
 they sat, side by side, on a low seat. The 
 young flowers in the pleasant garden bent I say 
 gently as the fragrant air passed through their | But 
 
 " If pa doesn't pray, then he won't go to 
 heaven V" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Nor Pop ?" 
 
 " Nor any body?" 
 
 " Then I won't die I don't want to go to 
 heaven !" 
 
 " Oh ! dear child," said she tenderly, " don't 
 say that ; 'twould be very, very wicked not to 
 wish to go to heaven. What would your ma 
 
 blushing petals, and the duU sound of busy 
 life from the city reached the ear like the 
 lulling flow of distant waters. Flounce 
 
 William heeded not ; he was again 
 
 busy watching the clouds, or looking for some 
 opening in the sky to peer right into paradise. 
 In a short time he aguiu asked :
 
 104 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 " Is every tody in lieaven good ; do no wick 
 ed or bad people ever get there ?" 
 
 " Impossible !" said Hannah, astonished, 
 " impossible ! God lives in heaven, that's his 
 home, and all his bright and holy angels are 
 up there with him. All the saints, and all the 
 martyrs and poor pilgrims, and all the holy 
 people that ever died are in heaven with God ; 
 your ma, and you, and 1 will be there ; and I 
 hope your pa, and Miss Mary, and a great 
 many others ;" and then, raising her extended 
 hands and looking fervently upward with a 
 bright smile, she continued : " Oh ! yes, up, up 
 on high with God, forever, and ever, and 
 ever." 
 
 An expression of solemnity rested upon the 
 boy's face as he still inquired : " Are you sure 
 that no bad people ever got into heaven or 
 ever lived there, Hannah T' 
 
 " Oh ! nothing sinful or wicked can be 
 where God is nothing ! impossible ! every 
 thing in heaven is so good and happy." 
 
 " But ma says that God is everywhere ; 
 that he is on this earth, which she says is so 
 very wicked, and that we are very wicked 
 too." 
 
 "Oh! yes," followed Hannah somewhat ab 
 stractedly ; " yes, we're very, very wicked 
 indeed." 
 
 " And then," continued William, " how 
 did Satan and all his wicked angels get into 
 lieaven? Ma told me that they once lived 
 there with God, and that they got very 
 wicked, and that there was a war in lieaven, 
 and that God sent Michael and his angels 
 to fight with them, and then that God cast 
 Satan and his angels down out of heaven. 
 Didn't these wicked angels once live in 
 heaven, and wasn't there fighting up there, 
 too '!" 
 
 Hannah now looked more confounded than 
 ever ; she laid her book aside and remained 
 thoughtful for a time, while the boy's large, 
 inquiring eyes were still fixed upon hers. 
 
 " Well, dear child, I'm sure I don't know 
 Low these wicked ones got into heaven ; they 
 were there I suppose, for the Bible says so. 
 Tis a mystery we can't understand, but it will 
 be all made plain to us some day." 
 
 With this comfortable assurance, she re- 
 eumed her book, but not to read ; she 
 looked over a few pages here and there, then 
 closed it again, and commenced, in a soft, low 
 voice, to sing one of her favorite hymns 
 
 " There is a land of pure delight, 
 
 Where saints immortal reign ; 
 Infinite clay excludes the night, 
 And pleasures banish pain. 
 
 " There everlasting spring abides, 
 And never-withering flowers ; 
 Death, like a narrow sea, divides 
 This heavenly land from ours." 
 
 She had scarcely finished the second verse, 
 before William's weary lids began to close, 
 and as the last words he heard distinctly were 
 about the " heavenly land," he went away 
 there in his mid-day dream even Flounce 
 followed him. There was soft, heavenly mu 
 sic, and he wandered about those " sweet 
 fields" with his father and mother, and Mary 
 and Hannah, and he told them how blissful he 
 
 felt to have them with him at last, and thai 
 they should never, never go back to earth, 
 never more be wicked, nor ever part again. 
 
 While William thus slept, Hannah, poor 
 kind creature, tried not to disturb his quiet 
 slumbers. She watched the pale and wearied 
 features of the sleeping boy, like some hover 
 ing, compassionate angel yet only an angel 
 of the earth and for nearly two hours 
 longer she felt almost perfect happiness, 
 while softly singing hymn after hymn, and 
 verse after verse, in her own simple way, and 
 comforting herself with delightful thoughts 
 of the pilgrim's land, of which her anticipa 
 tions led her to think that 
 
 " No chilling winds nor poisonous breath, 
 
 Can reach that healthful shore; 
 Sickness and sorrow, pain and death, 
 Are felt and feared no more." 
 
 She ceased at last, and, as she closed, her 
 voice died away with the sound of the eve 
 ning bells from the distant city. 
 
 " Why, Hannah, my goodness ! how still you 
 keep," said Mrs. Manners looking into the door 
 way; she had stepped lightly along the garden 
 walk and gave her maid such a pleasant sur 
 prise. " And is my poor boy sleeping V" said 
 she, stooping and. tenderly kissing his fore 
 head. And then, looking affectionately a*. 
 Hannah, who had watched over his slumbers, 
 cried, " you good, kind, loving Hannah I 
 God bless your tender heart ! what should we 
 do without you ? Wake up, my dear," said she, 
 gently taking William's hand, " wake up, un 
 til I tell you all about what we saw to-day in 
 the city." 
 
 "O ma!" said William, stretching him- 
 self, " I have had such a nice dream, I never 
 wanted to wake again ; but where's Pop ?" 
 said he, looking around. 
 
 " Here I am, you lazy fellow," said Mary, gli 
 ding in with the sunlight. " Have you been 
 sleeping all the time we were away ?" She 
 seated herself by his side, and ran her fingers 
 through his brown silken hair. 
 
 " Indeed, he has not," said Hannah ; " we 
 have had such a long talk about many things 
 things that you should talk about sometimes, 
 Miss Mary ; and then, when he grew tired, he 
 slept a little, while I sang." 
 
 " I'm sure you were very happy ; of course 
 you were." said Mrs. Mannors ; " the Lord 
 was with you. I left you under his protecting 
 care during my absence. And then we had 
 such a glorious time in Exeter Hall such a 
 crowd of people ; such a number of ministers 
 and pious foreigners. The work of the Lord 
 has surely prospered this day I know it. 
 But let us go in, and I will tell you all about 
 the meeting after tea." 
 
 Mary and William, followed by Flounce, led 
 the way to the house, while Mrs. MannorH 
 and her faithful maid walked slowly after, 
 talking about the great sums which had been 
 poured that day into the treasury of the Lord 
 
 Mr. Mannors returned very much pleaseu 
 that he had attended the ffreat Bible meeting , 
 he had heard all that the principal ministers 
 of different sects had to say concerning the 
 spread of the Gospel ; he had heard their fu 
 tile insinuations against skepticism, and their 
 admission of its growth and influence it.
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 105 
 
 high places, among eminent men even 
 within the " visible church" itself! And he 
 felt satisfied that, though they spoke of the 
 present and future with such lofty confidence, 
 they sometimes i'eared that the whole struc 
 ture of Christianity was growing more and 
 more insecure. Samuel Styles did not ac 
 company them to Hampstead, but went to the 
 lied Lion, where he agreed to meet Mr. Man 
 ners the next day. 
 
 Mr. Capel, of all others, seemed to be the 
 most dissatisfied. He, too, had heard all the 
 great speeches and all the news which Mrs. 
 Mannors had emphasized as " glorious ;" still 
 he seemed demure and thoughtful; even Mr. 
 Manuors felt a share of surprise, and once or 
 twice tried to rally him, but with little effect. 
 Latterly, indeed, an occasional abstraction was 
 observable, but it was of short duration ; his 
 natural cheerfulness was like a rainbow over 
 every cloud ; but now the cloud was there, 
 and no rainbow could be seen, nor glimpse 
 of blue sky beyond. Mrs. Mannors also no 
 ticed his unusual gravity, and, of course, at 
 tributed it to religious emotion. He was. no 
 doubt, pondering upon some of the truths he 
 had heard that day, and was probably affected 
 concerning the state of the perishing millions 
 which he had been told were yet in heathen 
 ish darkness doomed to eternal misery. 
 Such a state of mind, she thought, was all 
 very proper in a minister ; she was rather 
 pleased than otherwise ; for, contrary to all 
 expectation, she had begun to think that he 
 was not quite as diligent as he might be ; 
 but lest she should misjudge one of God's ser 
 vants, she only very cautiously mentioned her 
 doubts to one confiding heart to Hannah 
 alone; and now again she believed that, in 
 answer to her prayers, God was about to man 
 ifest himself and increase the usefulness of 
 one of his human agents of this she had no 
 doubt. 
 
 Mr. Capel sat near the open window, and 
 watched the beautiful sunset, and saw the 
 evening shadows gather around the drooping 
 flowers ; the distant, motionless cloud looked 
 like a mountain of sapphire in the waning 
 red light. How peacefully nature approached 
 with its season for slumber, and how he 
 envied the calm which seemed to rest upon 
 the inanimate world. But his mind, at that 
 still hour, was like the stormy ocean, and his 
 heart was heavy in anticipation of the ap 
 proaching trials which he feared he had to 
 undergo. Still he had courage to face any 
 ordeal in a just cause ; but, just or unjust, he 
 felt that a trial of some kind was unavoidable. 
 Then, again, he thought it might be kept off, 
 lie would try and avoid a collision ; and then, 
 when he thought of his position a reputed 
 preacher of the Gospel he drew a heavy 
 eigh, and muttered to himself, " It is inevi 
 table." 
 
 He was now alone, and he heard Mrs. Man- 
 nors's voice in an adjoining room. She was 
 busy giving a relation of all she had seen and 
 h-a:d that day at Exeter Hall; she dwelt 
 esp<rh\lly upon the many remarks made 
 Kgainst the growing infidelity of the day. and 
 how the " word of God" was to triumph 
 over every adversary. But to him who went 
 
 j there too in search of hope, how different was 
 the feeling ! In support of the Bible, lit 
 was treated to a rehash of flippant assertions 
 and a round of the usual orthodox assump 
 tions. The clerical defenders of revelation 
 did not attempt to establish scriptural truth 
 on the basis of reason or science, but more as 
 the result of faith evidenced in the feelings 
 and affections of "poor peasants and simple 
 women ;" while science, art, history, and arith 
 metic were frowned upon as the trusty alliea 
 of skepticism. 
 
 " You have become more serious .since your 
 visit to Exeter Hall," said Mr. Mannors 
 kindly, as he placed his chair near him. " You 
 are not, I presume, entirely satisfied with all 
 you heard on the occasion." 
 
 " To be candid, I am not." 
 
 " Well, I can not say that I feel disappointed. 
 Of course, we could not expect to hear a 
 learned defense of the Scriptures at such a 
 time ; but one would think that we should 
 have heard better reasons for a continuation 
 of the heavy, voluntary tax on the pockets of 
 believers. Circulate the Scriptures, is the 
 great cry at Exeter Hall ; but the speakers en 
 tirely failed to prove that that circulation had 
 resulted in any permanent benefit, so far, 
 either to Jew or heathen, or even to the na 
 tions so long under its influence. The priests 
 alone are the great gainers. It might not be 
 too much to assert that the united incomes 
 and salaries of the state bishops, and priests, 
 and other clergymen on the platform to-day, 
 would be more than sufficient to rid one of our 
 most populous parishes of the want and near 
 ly actual famine which drives so many to 
 crime. No other class who profess to labor 
 do so little or get so much as the priests of 
 Christendom at the present day. No wonder 
 that their united aim is against skepticism, 
 which is so vigorously debouncing their pre 
 tensions. Let Christianity prevail again as it 
 did once in Europe, and once more we should 
 have gloomy fanatics, intolerance, and an in 
 quisition ; then, alas ! for human progress or 
 liberty. We should again have bigoted Puri 
 tans, and men like Docter Buster lording it in 
 a Star Chamber ; and a tribe of bishops as 
 greedy as Winchester, who, while advocating 
 the spread of the Gospel, would tax the poor 
 man's bread to increase benefices and to double 
 or treble their present exorbitant incomes; 
 and again we should have reenactments for tlw 
 enforcement of test-oaths and religious penal 
 ties." 
 
 " Then am I to be one of that class you re 
 proach ? Shall I remain as I am, and be consid 
 ered the ally of such men aS Doctor Buster 
 and the bishop of Winchester even a co- 
 worker with James Baker?" Mr. Capel waa 
 still looking out at the flowers, and a shadow 
 had already overspread his face. 
 
 " Yes, if you think you're right ; if not, leavo 
 the narrow track in which you have been 
 treading, and move out boldly upon the great 
 highway of progress. Be free!" Mr. Man 
 nors spoke -with unusual energy, and when 
 Mr. Capel turned to reply, he saw that emo 
 tional glow, the emblem of sincerity, resting 
 upon his features. 
 
 "I may have been on that highway for
 
 106 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 some time ; I have ventured out stealthily, like 
 one afraid to meet a traveler afraid to ask 
 whether I was on the right road. I know not 
 where I am now. You asked me to investi 
 gate, and, when I commenced, I left the beaten 
 track in which I had so long paced backward 
 and forward without making an advance. 
 Yes, I have read and re-read the books which 
 you mentioned, and have read others for and 
 against the creed which I was trained from 
 infancy to believe as truth ; now I am like one 
 confused, like one blinded by the dust which 
 he has raised about him uncertain which 
 way to move. I have gone back for aid to 
 Paley, and to Butler, and to others, but to re 
 turn more disappointed than ever. I have 
 searched the most learned expositions without 
 avail ; and to-day I attended at Exeter Hall, 
 only to be mortified at the pretensions and 
 self-sufficiency of the very class to whom 1 am 
 supposed to belong. I am harboring terrible 
 doubts, and am therefore in a false position." 
 
 " And yet how much better than to be like 
 an owl at twilight, content to hoot and flap 
 within the ivied ruins of a church tower. 
 You have dared to doubt ; that is a step to 
 ward freedom ; even one pace outside the 
 charmed circle of theology. Doubt is but the 
 dawning of truth. Be not afraid to advance ; 
 walk out into the broad highway ; look up at 
 the light, and then go on ; for progress may 
 be eternal." 
 
 " One step outside that circle would make 
 me an apostate, to be laden with reproach. 
 Apostasy is but infamy in the eyes of the 
 faithful ; even once made a crime, to be pun 
 ished with death. That penalty can not now 
 be exacted, but the ostracism of religion will 
 remain. I can not avoid my doubts, but I 
 dread the ordeal which may follow." 
 
 " Take courage ; have freedom at any price. 
 Mental slavery is the most degrading. If in 
 bursting your fetters you should receive a 
 wound, time will heal it ; and though bigotry 
 may point to the scar as a mark of degrada 
 tion, it will be to yourself and to the pro 
 gressive a proud mark obtained in the cause 
 of true liberty." 
 
 It was late that night before these friends 
 retired ; but had Mrs. Mannors stood by and 
 heard all they had, said, she would have been 
 amazed at the want of faith in him who was 
 to have wrought such a change in her house 
 hold, and she might have exclaimed, " O 
 Ephraim ! what shall I do unto thee ? Judah I 
 what shall I do unto thee? for your good 
 ness is as a morning cloud, and as the early 
 dew it goeth away." 
 
 That same evening, after their return from 
 Exeter Hall, Mrs. Baker entertained a few 
 friends some members of her class besides 
 Mr. Wesley Jacobs, the local preacher, Thomas 
 Bolster, and one or two other influential church 
 members on the circuit. Nearly all spoke in 
 praise of the, Bible Society, and of the plea 
 sure afforded them in witnessing such unani 
 mity among members of different persuasions. 
 One and all were, however, particularly de 
 lighted that Doctor Buster's pride had been 
 humbled ; and Mr. Baker wore a smile of 
 quiet satisfaction at the thought that the re 
 sult of his counter-plot had been so success 
 
 ful, and that the great Presbyterian champion 
 and his allies had been forced to submit. 
 Indeed, he felt as satisfied of his own individual 
 prowess in the achievement of this victory as 
 he did of the supremacy of Methodism over 
 every other ism of the day. 
 
 " What a pity, friends," said he, " that such 
 a distinguished hero of Black Presbyterianism 
 should be obliged to sit so meekly between 
 myself and Jonah Hall, and never get a chance 
 to say more tl an Amen the whole day. I 
 fancy they won't send me another invitation 
 in a hurry to attend at brother Caleb Howe's 
 Baptist wash-house ; but we'll watch them for 
 the future, and if they catch me asleep, why, 
 then, they're welcome to all they can get." 
 
 " I declare, brother," said the local preacher, 
 "the doctor did keep unusually still to-day; 
 he has assurance enough, he can be bold if he 
 likes but I thought there was some other in 
 fluence at work to keep him quiet. A popu 
 larity hunter like him is not easily silenced, 
 especially when he could not fail to notice so 
 many of his admirers present." 
 
 "It was rather strange; he fancied, I sup 
 pose, that none of us humble preachers 
 would have the assurance to appear on the 
 platform alongside of his dignity, and that he 
 would have it all to himself, whether or no. 
 Wasn't he mistaken though 't However, I think 
 the doctor was not himself ; he was as fidgetty 
 as a sick bear, and for some reason <-r other he 
 seemed to keep a watchful eye, either upon 
 that sedate impostor, Martin Mannors, who 
 was right in front of us, or upon his wife or 
 daughter ; while he, in turn, stared back as de 
 fiantly. There's something, I think, between 
 that precious pair ; I must find it out from 
 brother Capel." 
 
 " I almost forgot, " said a pious sister, " How 
 is sister Mannors likely to succeed ? Do you 
 think that brother Capel will add another seal 
 to his ministry by the conversion of her hus 
 band f 
 
 " The Lord alone can tell," meekly replied 
 Mrs. Baker, "the work is in his hands. Our 
 poor sister is still hopeful ; but her husband 
 is yet puffed up with the pride of his heart. 
 Alas ! his day of grace may be already passed ; 
 he may be left to the sole comfort of his weak 
 reason. You know what the Scriptures say, 
 ' My spirit shall not always strive with man.' 
 He may yet bewail, and eay, 
 
 ' Ah ! wretch that I am ! I can only exclaim, 
 
 Like a devil tormented within, 
 My Saviour is gone, and has lelt me alone 
 
 To the fury of Satan and sin.' " 
 
 " Let him go," said Mr. Baker testily. " I 
 never had any hope of his submission to truth. 
 Let him go with the rest. I place but little 
 confidence in what our state bishops say on be- 
 lialf of true religion ; they are greedy impos 
 tors ; but I was glad to hear them rate infidel 
 ity at its proper value; and that, too, in the 
 presence of such an upholder. Psha ! brother 
 Capel has no more influence over that man 
 than I would have over the Pope of Home." 
 
 " And yet," pleaded one of the youngest 
 sisters, "you see he had sufficient influence to 
 induce him to attend at Exeter Hall." 
 
 " Not a bit of it, sister ; it was all a matter 
 of mere curiosity. Martin Mannors went there
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 107 
 
 tc criticise to hear what could be said ; I 
 know him." 
 
 "I didn't think much of the speeches, any 
 way," said Mr. Thomas Bolster, a very strong 
 Methodist. " We all know what the bishops 
 are ; Spurgeon and his little apple were very 
 much alike. I think our secretary made the 
 only speech worth hearing." 
 
 " Wife." said Mr. Baker suddenly, after a 
 moment's thought, " was brother Capel here 
 lately '>." 
 
 " No ; not for some days ; not, I think, since 
 you returned from district meeting." 
 
 " Very strange ! I do not know how it is, 
 I see him but seldom. I had scarcely time to 
 say, ' How do you do '!' to him after the meeting 
 to-day before he was off again with his friends. 
 He ought to have called here upon his return 
 from the circuit. He must be greatly devoted 
 to sister Manners, or to her husband, or some 
 one of her family. I have heard that he enter 
 tains a most exalted opinion of his friend Man- 
 nors ; it can not be on account of his religious 
 principles. Then,' continued he sharply, 
 " what is it for ; what is the nature of the bond V 
 This must be looked after." But suddenly 
 checking himself, he adroitly turned the con 
 versation on Doctor Buster and the bishops ; 
 he was too cautious to scrutinize the conduct 
 of the junior preacher before any of the nock ; 
 he would have a long talk with his wife about 
 him when the friends went home. 
 
 After sundry cups of tea and other more 
 solid refreshments had been piously consum 
 ed, Mr. Baker, with brothers Bolster and 
 Jacobs, stealthily retired to light their pipes 
 in the kitchen, while the sisters were left 
 chatting agreeably at the tea-table. In about 
 half an hour, they all reassembled in the little 
 parlor. Mr. Wesley Jacobs gave a peculiar 
 sigh, and made a favorite allusion to the pre 
 sence which would be manifested where two 
 or three were gathered together in the name 
 of the Lord. There was then a round of pray 
 er for the spread of the Gospel and the con 
 version of the world ; and Mr. Baker made a 
 closing and pathetic appeal for the increase of 
 the Wesleyan Church, for all who were in 
 trouble, for all who were in error, for the poor 
 benighted heathen, and for missionaries far, 
 far away. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 ONE evening, a day or two after the Bible 
 meeting, Samuel Styles entered the large room 
 of the Red Lion. He found it well filled with a 
 number of intelligent shop-keepers, clerks, ar 
 tisans, and other persons. Good John Hollis, 
 the landlord, moved with cheerful look from 
 table to table, stopping now and then to give 
 a word or two of welcome to one or another, 
 or to pause, in order to catch more fully the 
 remarks made by some more fervent speaker 
 than usual. Many of those assembled were 
 quietly sipping the stout ale for which the Red 
 Lion was noted ; others were looking over the 
 daily papers, or reading to those near by 
 passages from some popular or favorite author ; 
 wlnle the majority seemed to be earnestly en 
 gaged in familiar discourse, in which much 
 
 thought and interest were manifested. Tie 
 prevailing theme rela'ed to the peculiar effort? 
 resorted to for the propagation of Christianity 
 and its eleemosynary system of taxation ; and 
 in the buzz of conversation one could easily 
 detect that the State Church, the aristocracy, 
 the Bible Society, and Exeter Hall, bishops, 
 parsons, priests, and preachers came in for n 
 small share of animadversion. Samuel watch 
 ed the face of more than one eager speaker, and 
 he soon became satisfied that though several of 
 those around him had a somewhat rough ex 
 terior, they had manly hearts, and were men 
 who had read and thought for themselves 
 were a type of the free and progressive spirit 
 of the British nation ; men who could not be 
 intimidated by royal threats or lordly frowns, 
 or made tamely submissive to the prejudiced 
 and oppressive acts of any servile or aristo 
 cratic Parliament. 
 
 A notice, placed in a conspicuous part of the 
 room, stated that the regular Veekly meeting 
 of the Secularists of the Strand district would 
 be held at their large hall, in a street within a 
 short distance of the Red Lion. In about 
 half an hour, there was a general movement of 
 all for the place ; and Samuel, being anxious 
 to go, and having previously formed a friendly 
 acquaintance with several of the visitors, was 
 particularly invited to attend the meeting. 
 Taking the arm of the secretary, he followed 
 the crowd, and in a few minutes was conducted 
 to a seat in a spacious and well-lighted hall, 
 capable of accommodating seven or eight hun 
 dred persons, and which was already more 
 than two thirds filled when he entered. The 
 speaker's platform was elevated about two 
 feet above the floor, and mottoes or trite 
 phrases, printed in large letters, could be seen 
 in several conspicuous places. One over the 
 platform read : " Reason, our most intellectual 
 guide." Another, " Hear all sides," and above 
 these, and almost touching the frescoed ceil 
 ing, the word " TRUTH,'' in golden text-cha 
 racters, flashed down upon the assembly. 
 
 The hall was soon crowded, and a number of 
 well-trained singers in front commenced the 
 following liberal song, which, from the pecu 
 liarity of the words and harmony of the air, 
 and excellent manner of performance, seemed 
 to have had a most animating effect upon 
 all present. Nearly every one appeared to 
 know the words and their purport, and, as 
 they followed the leading singers in swelling 
 the strain which now filled the place, Samuel 
 Styles was forcibly reminded of his younger 
 days, and he almost fancied himself again at 
 a Christian meeting in his native land : 
 
 SECULARIST'S SONG. 
 
 We've been waiting through the night, 
 And the dawn wfll soon appear ; 
 
 And the mountain's misty height, 
 
 From the clouds shall burst out bright; 
 
 And the eagle in his flight 
 Reach a radiant atmosphere ; 
 
 And the toiler on his way 
 
 Shall look up and see the day. 
 
 O bleak time when hope seemed dead 1 
 
 Ages lost in doubt and gloom ; 
 A na whole centuries of dread 
 By dark superstition led, 
 Until reason almost fled 
 
 From a throne Into a tomb ;
 
 108 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 Till the mind in frenzied flight 
 Darted deeper into night. 
 
 But the dawn on every side, 
 
 The gleam of glorious day, 
 Will be seen while shadows hide ; 
 Then the priest in towering pride, 
 And the prophet who has lied, 
 
 Shall forever lose their sway, 
 And the despot and the slave 
 Shall lie mouldering in one grave. 
 
 At the close of the song, the chairman, a 
 venerable gentleman, introduced the speaker, 
 and when the name of Martin Manners was 
 mentioned, the demonstrations of welcome 
 were so great that it was some time before a 
 word could be heard. As soon as an opportu 
 nity offered, Mr. Manners commenced : 
 
 " Mr Chairman and my friends : As this is 
 the period when various religious societies, and 
 those interested in the circulation of the Bible, 
 or what they call the ' word of God,' hold their 
 annual meetings in Exeter Hall to collect 
 more money for pious purposes, it will be a 
 proper time for us to ask, what the Bible is, 
 and on what is its surprising claim to infalli 
 bility founded. Such a claim, however, is not 
 peculiar to the Christian Bible ; the Buddhists, 
 the Mohammedans, the Mormons, and others 
 insist on that characteristic for their so-called 
 inspired books, and are as positive in asserting 
 that they have the evidence of prophecy and 
 miracles to as full an extent in support of their 
 warranty to a divine revelation as that so au 
 thoritatively demanded by Christians. In as 
 few words as the nature of the subject will per 
 mit, We shall make some observations on the 
 Bible ; and it is to be hoped that those who 
 feel interested in ascertaining, ' What is 
 truth?' will make a fuller inquiry, and be sat 
 isfied as to the correctness of our assertions : 
 no amount of scrutiny can injure truth. 
 
 " It is a curious fact, that the Jews, who are 
 said by Christians to have been the first privi 
 leged with a message from the deity, and who 
 are or were once known as the ' chosen peo 
 ple of God,' only came into notice after the 
 time of Alexander the Great ; and that the his 
 torical monuments preceding that period make 
 not the slightest mention of any Jewish trans 
 action ; and that the Jews were unknown to 
 the world as a nation until they were sub 
 jected by the Romans. This 'has been fully 
 established by the celebrated Wyttenbach. 
 Professor Cooper, of America, also writes, that 
 no authentic historian of ancient times, Jose- 
 phus excepted, has ever mentioned the Jews as 
 an independent nation or state, or as being in 
 possession of Palestine, or any part of Great 
 Syria before or in the time of Alexander. As 
 a nation, they appear to have been entirely 
 unknown to Herodotus and all other Greek 
 historians ! In view of these facts, another 
 American writer* has said : ' But what con 
 fidence can be placed in the ancient writings 
 of a people so insignificant and obscure as to 
 be, as it were, totally unknown to other na 
 tions till at least a century after all the facts, 
 real or pretended, therein recorded were said 
 to have been written ? Who ever knew any 
 thing about King David, or King Solomon 
 and the splendid temple built at Jerusalem by 
 
 * Kneeland. 
 
 the latter, except the Jews ?' Writers whc 
 have made their history a Btudy assert that 
 the Jews, as a people, were a rude, barbarous, 
 cruel, blood-thirsty tribe ; and Apollonius, 
 quoted by Josephus, said that the Jews were 
 the most trifling of all the barbarians, and 
 that they were the only people who had never 
 found out any thing useful for life. The 
 great Doctor Burnet, in his Arcliceoloqiaz Phi 
 losophical, admits that they were of a gross and 
 sluggish nature, of a dull and heavy disposi 
 tion, bereft of humanity, a vile company of 
 men. Even Josephus concedes that his coun 
 trymen were so illiterate as never to have 
 written any thing or to have held intercourse 
 with their learned neighbors. Indeed, no 
 people of antiquity were more ignorant, cred 
 ulous, intolerant, and wretched than the Jews. 
 While the ancient Chaldeans, Arabians, Egyp 
 tians, Grecians, and Romans produced their 
 men of science and erudition, the Jews added 
 nothing to the glorious pyramid of human 
 knowledge ; and yet we are to believe, even 
 in the nineteenth century, that a being said 
 to be ' all wise' and ' all good' selected such 
 a race as his ' chosen people,' the people who 
 were solely and specially intrusted with his 
 divine word ? What a mockery !* 
 
 " It is a singular proof of the want of correct 
 information among believers in the Christian 
 Bible that, with very few exceptions, they are 
 of the opinion, that that book always retained 
 its present form ; whereas, in truth, there was 
 no proper canon or collection, even of the 
 books of the Old Testament, until, about two 
 hundred years before the time given for the 
 birth of Christ. Previous to that period, a 
 great number of ' holy books' were scattered 
 about, occasionally altered or amended, just 
 as priests, or prophets, or rulers might deter 
 mine. The early history of the Bible is 
 shrouded in almost impenetrable darkness. As 
 we now have it, the Old Testament is com 
 posed of thirty -nine books, exclusive of a num 
 ber of others called ' apocryphal' but which 
 are still received by the Roman-Catholic 
 Church as canonical ; and the New Testament 
 has twenty-seven books. Therefore, the total 
 number of books composing the orthodox 
 or English Bible is sixty-six ; and these 
 are accepted by the Reformed Church 
 of the present day as inspired. Now, 
 although it is strongly asserted by the 
 clerical defenders of the genuineness of the 
 Bible, that' the Lord has miraculously pre 
 served the ' sacred writings,' yet, without 
 particularizing any of the forgeries, interpo 
 lations, or corruptions discovered, we find that 
 there were several other inspired books, re 
 ferred to in the Bible as authoritative, which 
 have been entirely lost, and which are alluded 
 to by commentators as the ' lost books.' We 
 find passages in the Bible relating to about 
 twenty of these ; but, for the sake of brevity, 
 we shall enumerate texts which only refer to 
 a few of them such as ' The Book of the 
 Wars of the Lord,' ' Tlie Book of Jasher' 
 ' The, Acts of Solomon,' ' The Book of Gad, 
 the Seer' ' The Prophecy of Ahijah' ' The Vi 
 sions of Mdo,' and ' The Book of Khemaiah, tht 
 Prophet.' 
 
 * R. Cooper, of England.
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 109 
 
 " I will read extracts from the Bible as 
 proof: 
 
 " 'Wherefore, it is eaid in the book of the wars of the 
 Lord what he did in the Red Sea and in the brooks of 
 Aruon ?' Numbers 21 : 14. 
 
 ' ' Is not. Uric written in the book of Jashcr r Josh. 
 10 : 13. ' Behold, it is written ill the book of Jasher ! ' 
 2 Samuel 1 : 18. 
 
 " ' And the rest of the acts of Solomon, are they not 
 written in the book of the aets of Solomon?' 1 
 Kings 11:41. 
 
 " Now the acts of David the King, first and last, be 
 hold, they are written in the book of Samuel the seer, 
 and in the book of Nutli;;n the prophet, and in the 
 book of Gad the seer.' 1 Chrou. 29: 29. 
 
 " You will perceive that this verse alone re 
 fers to more than one of the lost books. 
 
 " ' Now the rest of the acts of Solomon, first and last, 
 are they not written in the book of Nathan the pro 
 phet, and in the prophecy of Ahijah the Shilonite, and 
 in the visions of Iddo the seer, against Jeroboam, the 
 BOH of Nebal f " 2d. Chrou 9 : 29. 
 
 " This verse also mentions three of the lost 
 books : 
 
 " ' Now the acts of Fehoboam, first and last, are they 
 not written in the book of Shemaiah the prophet, and 
 3f Iddo the seer concerning genealogies?" 2 Chrou. 
 12 : 15. 
 
 " Here two others of the lost books are 
 spoken of; and I think we have sufficient evi 
 dence that the Bible is deficient in one par 
 ticular respect : it does not contain all of the 
 so-called ' inspired word.'* 
 
 "You will remember that we stated that 
 there was no proper form or collection ol the 
 books of the Old Testament until about 200 
 years before Christ ; we will now state that 
 there was no regular satisfactory collection of 
 the books composing the New Testament until 
 the middle of the bixth century, over 500 years 
 after the death of the reputed founder of 
 Christianity ! Up to the period of the council 
 of Nice, A.D. 327, a great many Acts, Gospels, 
 Epistles, and Revelations were circulated, and 
 received among the faithful as of equal author 
 ity.! 
 
 " There were, of course, conflicting opinions 
 as to their credibility, and serious contentions 
 arose in con-equence; the book which one 
 priest rejected, another would accept ; to 
 settle the dispute in some way, a selection of 
 
 * Du Pin, Professor of Philosophy at Paris, and au- 
 thoi of a Complete History qf the Canon and Writers of 
 the Hooks of the Old and Xew Testaments, says : 
 
 " St. Eiichurius says, it is evident why we have not 
 the remaining books which the Holy Scriptures ap 
 prove of, because Judea, having been ravaged by the 
 Chaldeans, and the ancient bibliotheque being burnt, 
 thure remains only a small number of the books which 
 at present make up the Holy Scriptures, and which 
 \vure collected and reestablished by the care of Ezra.' 
 
 " Simon, in his Critical History of the VenAon of the 
 New Testament, quotes St. Chrysostoni thus: 
 
 "The Jews, having been at some time careless and 
 at others profane, suffered some of the sacred books 
 to be lost through their carelessness, and have burnt 
 and destroyed others." 
 
 t Among the apocryphal books of the New Testa 
 ment were the G'oxptla of St. Peter, St. Thomas, St. 
 Mathias, St. Bartholomew, St. Philip. Judas Iscanot, 
 Thaddeus, and Barnabas. There were the Acts of St. 
 Peter, St. Paul, St. Andrew. St. John, St. Philip, and 
 St. Thomas, and the Revelations of St. Paul, St. Tho 
 mas, St. Stephen, and the Great Apostle. These and 
 many others were at one time considered as of " divine 
 authority," but now rejected though not yet even by 
 all as spurious. 
 
 the true from the false was made by the as 
 sembled bishops at Nice ; and Papias, the 
 Christian father, informs us as to the manner 
 of that selection. We shall give his own 
 words : ' This was done/ said he, ' by plac 
 ing all the books under a communion-table, 
 and, upon the prayers of the council, the in 
 spired books jumped upon the table, while the 
 false ones remained under !' After a time, 
 however, many mocked at this manner of se 
 lection, and priestly wrangling continued aa 
 fierce as ever. 
 
 " About the year 363 A.D., another council, 
 called the council of Laodicea, was held, to 
 make a more perfect selection of the holy 
 books. This time, the manner of doing so 
 was by v-te ; and it is said a list of the booka 
 of the New Testament, nearly as we now 
 have them, was then chosen, but the book of 
 Revelations was excluded. And St. Chrysos 
 tom, who died A.D. 407, informs ua that in 
 his time the book of the Acts of the Apostles 
 was little known. After this, two other coun 
 cils were held, one in the 'year 406, and the 
 other about the year 680. The council of 406 
 rejected some books deemed canonical by the 
 council of 363 ; but the council of 6HO restored 
 them. Thus, until a late period, did contend 
 ing priests leave the settlement of the ' divine 
 word' in doubt and confusion. A writer 
 says : ' Thus were the " sacred writings," the 
 " word of God," ' tossed like a battledoor from 
 sect to sect, and altered as the spirit of faction 
 might dictate.' 
 
 " As an evidence that ' ordained heads' at 
 these councils did not always conduct them 
 selves in a proper spirit, we shall quote the 
 words of the great Christian writer, Tindal, on 
 the subject : ' Indeed,' says he, ' the confu 
 sion and disorder were so great amongst them, 
 especially in their synods, that it sometimes 
 came to blows ; as, for instance, Dioscorus, 
 bishop of Alexandria, cuffed and kicked Flavi- 
 anus, patriarch of Constantinople, with that 
 i'ury that within three days after he died!' 
 And, speaking of their doctrinal consistency, 
 he says, ' For though they were most obsti 
 nate as to power, they were most flexible as to 
 faith; and in their council, complimented the 
 Emperor with whatsoever creeds they had a 
 mind to, and never scrupled to recant what 
 they had before enacted, or reenact what they 
 had before recanted.' 
 
 " If these men were inspired to select the 
 true from the false out of such a number of 
 books and it would require ' inspiration' for 
 the purpose the godly priests proved rather 
 flexible. 
 
 " That no doubt may exist as to the period 
 when the New Testament was compi'.ed, we 
 shall give the statement of another distin 
 guished Christian ; the learned Dr. Lardner 
 says : ' That even so late as the middle of the 
 fiixtJi century, the canon of the New Testo- 
 rtient had not been settled by any authority 
 tbat was decisive and universally acknow 
 ledged, but Christian people were at liberty 
 to judge for themselves concerning the genu 
 ineness of writings proposed to them as apos 
 tolical, and to determine according to evi 
 deuce.' Vol. 'A, pp. 54-61. 
 
 " The Rev.T. H. Home, in his second editior
 
 110 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 of his Introduction to the Scriptures* says : 
 " The accounts left us by ecclesiastical writers 
 of antiquity, concerning the time when the 
 Gospels were written or published, are so 
 vague, confused, and discordant that they 
 lead to no certain or solid determination. 
 The eldest of the ancient fathers collected 
 the KEPORTS of their own times, and set them 
 down as certain truths, and those who fol 
 lowed adopted their accounts with implicit 
 reverence. Thus tradition, true or false, passed 
 oc from one writer to another without exam 
 ination, until, at last, it became too late to 
 examine them to any purpose." 
 
 " It must not be imagined, however, that the 
 final selection of the books of the New Tes 
 tament gave general satisfaction ; evidence is 
 to the contrary. Many learned Christian men 
 of recent times have expressed themselves 
 strongly in favor of eeveral of the discarded 
 books, even going so far as to consider them 
 as genuine as any of the canonized version ; 
 and to silence every cavil on this subject, we 
 shall confine ourselves to Christian author 
 ity. 
 
 " The learned Dr. Winston, on page 28 of 
 his Exact Time, declares that tvcenty-s-'ven 
 of the discarded books are genuine ; he says, 
 ' Can any one be so weak as to imagine Mark, 
 and Luke, and James, and Jude, who were 
 none of them more than companions of the 
 apostles, to be our sacred and unerring guides, 
 while Barnabas, Thaddeus, Clement, Timo 
 thy, Hernias, Ignatius, and Polycarp, who 
 were equally companions of the same apos 
 tles, to be oi no authority at all ?' 
 
 " In his Rationale of Religious Inquiry, 
 the Rev. J. Martineau says, ' If we could re 
 cover the gospels of the Hebrews and that 
 of the Egyptians, it would be difficult to give 
 a reason why THEY should not form a part of 
 the New Testament ; and an epistle actually 
 exists, by Clement, the fellow-laborer of Paul, 
 which has as good a claim to stand there as 
 the Epistle to the Hebrews or the Gospel of 
 Luke. If none but the works of the twelve 
 apostles were admitted, the rule would be 
 clear and simple ; but what are Mark and 
 Luke, who are received, more than Clement 
 and Barnabas, who are excluded V 
 
 " Bishop Marsh observes that, ' It is an un 
 doubted fact that those Christians by whom 
 the now rejected gospels were received, and 
 who are now called heretics, were in the right 
 in many points of criticism where the fathers 
 accused them of willful corruption.' 
 
 " Archbishop Wake, who actually translated 
 St. Barnabas, St. Clement, St. Ignatius, St. 
 Polycarp, and St. Hernias, fatliers of the first 
 century, recommends them to the world as 
 'inspired* and as 'containing an authorita 
 tive declaration of the Gospel of Christ to us.'f 
 
 " And William Penn, the celebrated Quaker, 
 in an argument against the positive accept 
 ance of the Bible as the rule of faith and prac 
 tice, says, ' I demand of our adversaries, if 
 they are well assured of those men who 
 first collected, embodied, and declared them 
 (the Scriptures) authentic, by a public canon 
 
 *Vol iv. p. 860. 
 
 * See Wake'g Apostolic Fathers. 
 
 which we read was in the Council of Laodicea, 
 held 360 years after Christ I say, how dc 
 they know that these men rightly discerned 
 true from spurious? Now, sure it is that some 
 of the Scriptures, taken in by one council were 
 rejected by another for apocryphal, and that 
 which was left out by the former for apocry 
 phal was taken in by the latter for canonical. 
 Now, visible it is, that they contradict each 
 other, and as true that they have erred re 
 specting the present belief.'* 
 
 " We could multiply such admissions, but 
 every candid hearer will agree that we have 
 produced sufficient to establish the fact that 
 the orthodox Bible was not completed, or re 
 duced to its present form until between five 
 and six hundred years alter Christ. As it is,we 
 have now two distinct Christian Bibles, the old 
 est or Catholic Scriptures, which include the 
 Old Testament Apocrypha, and the Protestant, 
 or King James' version, which excludes them ; 
 some, indeed, say that the Bible of the Greek 
 Church is still different. Now, a large major 
 ity of Christians are Roman Catholic, and they, 
 as a church, denounce the Protestant Bible. 
 In 1810, the Pope declared it ' pregnant with 
 errors ;' and the Protestants, in Return, though 
 not wholly rejecting the CathoMc book, say it 
 is very imperfect. 
 
 " The honest investigator will furthermore be 
 astonished to learn that the Jews themselves, 
 even their priests and kings, were ignorant of 
 any ' divine law,' until a priest named Hil- 
 kiah said that he ' found the book of the law 
 in the house of the Lord.' This wonderful 
 discovery is said to have taken place only 628 
 years before Christ, centuries after the death 
 of Moses, its supposed writer 1 The 34th chap 
 ter of 2d Chronicles relates the matter, and 
 tells of the surprise and dread caused by the 
 finding. 
 
 " The inquirer will be still more astonished 
 to hear that that same ' divine book of the law' 
 was, a few years after its discovery by Hilkiah, 
 completely lost (some say burnt) during the 
 Babylonish captivity, and never afterward 
 recovered; and that the Old Testament books 
 which we now have were re-written by Ezra, 
 or Esdras. Hittel says, ' The ancient Jewa 
 nad a tradition that the Mosaic law had been 
 burned at the time of the captivity, and that it 
 had been republished by Ezra; and the tradi 
 tion was received as trustworthy by Irenaeua, 
 Clement of Alexandria, Clirysostom, and The- 
 odoret.' In the Hebrew Apocrypha, Esdraa 
 Bays : 
 
 " ' Thy law is burned : therefore no man knoweth the 
 things which thou hast done, or the works that are to 
 begin. But if I huve found grace before thee. send 
 down the Holy Spirit into me, and I shall write all that 
 hath been done in the world since the beginning, 
 which were written in thy law, that men may liud thy 
 path.' 2 Esdras 14 : 21. 
 
 ' And it came to pass, that when forty days were ful 
 filled, that the highest spake, saying, the first that 
 thou hast written publish openly, that the foolish and 
 unworthy may read it ; but keep the seventy last, that 
 thou mayest deliver them only to such as he wise 
 among the people. 1 2 Esdras 14 : 45. 
 
 " Alluding to this, the Christian father Ire- 
 
 naeuB Bays, 'that, they (the books of the Old 
 
 Testament) were fabricated seventy years 
 
 after the Babylonish captivity by Esdras.' 
 
 * Penn, vol. 1. pp. 303-1
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 Ill 
 
 And Dr. Adam Clarke, without venturing so 
 far, says, ' All antiquity is nearly unanimous 
 in giving Ezra the honor of collecting the 
 different writings of Moses and the prophets, 
 and reducing them into the form in which 
 they are now found in the Holy Bible.' 
 
 ""Bagster admits that Ezra, 'perhaps as 
 sisted by Nehemiah and the great synagogue, 
 corrected the errors which had crept into the sa 
 cred writings through the negligence or mis 
 take of transcribers,' and that ' he occasion 
 ally added, under the superintendence of the 
 Holy Spirit, whatever appeared necessary for 
 the purpose of illustrating, completing, or con 
 necting them.' This appears to have been a 
 very extensive license. God.it is said, first in 
 spired men to write his law, and had after 
 ward to inspire Ezra to correct the errors of 
 transcribers, and yet a thousand admitted er 
 rors still exist ! Ezra ' added ' to the Scrip 
 tures, in order to 'illustrate' what God actu 
 ally meant ! Could more have been said as to 
 the ambiguity of human laws ? To what de 
 plorable shifts have our semi-inspired priests 
 been reduced ! 
 
 " The Bible, having attained its present 
 form, does not, however, give satisfaction. 
 While the Samaritan Jews, and ancient Sad- 
 ducees rejected all but the Pentateuch, those 
 same books, and many others now included as 
 canonical, had been discarded by some of the 
 primitive fathers, and by priestly heroes of 
 the reformation, as well as by many bishops, 
 priests, and learned commentators of these lat 
 ter days. 
 
 " Belsham in his Evidence, page 117, de- 
 ' clares that, ' of the law of Moses, that which is 
 genuine bears but a small proportion to that 
 which is spurious.' 
 
 " The celebrated Bishop Usher says that our 
 present Septuagint is a spurious copy ! ' The 
 Septuagint translation continually adds to, 
 takes from, and changes the Hebrew text at 
 pleasure ; the original translation of it was 
 lost long ago, and what has ever since gone by 
 that name is a spurious copy, alxnmding in 
 omissions, additions, and alterations of the He 
 brew text.' 
 
 " Origen, the first learned Christian of criti 
 cal ability, doubted the genuineness of the 
 Epistle to the Hebrews, the second of James, 
 second of Peter, second and third of John and 
 Jude ! but considered the book of Hernias as 
 inspired. 
 
 "Luther, the apostle of the reformation, 
 doubted the truthfulness of the following 
 scriptural books, namely : Of the Old Testa 
 ment, Chronicle*, Job, Eccleniastcs, Etther, 
 and haiah ; of the New, Hebrews, James, Jude, 
 and Revelation. We shall quote Luther's 
 own words as evidence. He says : ' The 
 books of the King* are more worthy of credit 
 than the books ot the Chronicles! Job spake 
 not therefore as it stands written in his book, 
 but hath had such cogitations. It is a sheer 
 allegory. It is probable that Solomon made 
 and wrote this book. This book, Ecclesiastes, 
 ought to have been more full ; there is too 
 much broken matter in it ; it has neither boots, 
 nor spurs, but rides only in socks, as I myself 
 when in the cloister. Solomon, therefore, hath 
 not written this book, which had been made in 
 
 ' 
 
 the days of the Maccabees, by Sirach. It ia 
 like a Talmud, compiled from many books, 
 perhaps in Egypt, at the desire of King Ptole 
 my Euergetes. So also have the Proverbs 
 of Solomon been collected by others. The 
 book of Esther, I toss into the Elbe. I am 
 such an enemy to the book of Esther, that I 
 wish it did not exist ; for it Judaizes too much, 
 and hath in it a great deal of heathenish 
 naughtiness. Isaiah hath borrowed his art auci 
 knowledge from the Psalter. The history of 
 Jonah is so monstrous that it is absolutely in 
 credible. That the Epistle to the Hebrews is not 
 by St. Paul, nor by any apostle at all is shown 
 by chapter 2:3. It was written by an ex 
 ceedingly learned man, a disciple of the apos 
 tles. It should be no stumbling-block if there 
 should be found in it a mixture of wood, 
 straw, hay. The Epistle of James I account 
 the writing of no apostle ; it is an epistle of 
 straw. The Epistle of Jude is a copy of >St. 
 Peter's, and altogether has stories which have 
 no place in Scripture. 
 
 "'In the revelations of St. John, much ia 
 wanting to let me deem it scriptural. I can 
 discover no traces that it is established by the 
 Spirit.' * Such is the opinion of the great high- 
 priest of the reformation of books now deemed 
 inspired. 
 
 " Of the book of Daniel, the learned Dr. Ar 
 nold speaks, ' I have long thought that the 
 greater part of the book of Daniel is most cer 
 tainly a very late work of the time of the 
 Maccabees ; and the pretended prophecy of the 
 kings of Greece and Persia, and of the north 
 and south is mere history, like the poetical 
 prophecies in Virgil and elsewhere. In fact, 
 you can distinctly trace the date when it was 
 written, because the events up to that data 
 are given with historical minuteness, totally 
 unlike the character of real prophecy, and be 
 yond that date all is imaginary.' 
 
 " What a pity it is that some of our mad 
 priests do not take the same view ; our semi- 
 prophetic lecturers would not have so many 
 ' rams' and ' he-goats' skipping through 
 their brains and scattering their senses. Ne- 
 ander also took the same view of the book of 
 Daniel. Doctors Aitken and Eichhorn have re 
 pudiated the books of Jonah and Daniel as 
 mere 'legends and romances.' Doctor Whis- 
 ton denounced the Canticles as 'forgeries;' and 
 many other of our learned priests, who, while 
 accepting certain books as canonical, yet ad 
 mit that they contain spurious passages, inter 
 polations, false translations, sufficient to mis 
 lead and bewilder the multitude. 
 
 " I would ask. how, then, is it possible for an 
 ' unlearned' man, a ' simple, humble believ 
 er,' to 'stand fast and continue in the faith,' 
 surrounded by such a babel of opinions ? 
 The only way he can do so is by resolutely 
 shutting his eyes and stopping his ears, de 
 termined neither to hear nor see any thing 
 likely to produce a single doubt ; he must be 
 guided entirely by the advice of interested 
 priests, who 'affectionately' caution against 
 ' unbelief/ and then threaten ' that he that 
 
 * Dionysins, Bishop of Alexandria, Erasmus, Calvin, 
 andZuinglius ulsocU.ubted the gouuineness of Revel* 
 lion.
 
 112 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 believeth not shall be damned ;' and this 
 threat is, with thousands, an extinguisher to 
 investigation ; it is the most convincing or 
 thodox argument. 
 
 " Now, with respect to the books included in 
 the present canon of the Old Testament, 
 there is no satisfactory evidence to prove 
 when, or where, or by whom they were writ 
 ten, or in what language. On the contrary, 
 there is abundant proof to show, that such of 
 these books as bear the name of certain au 
 thors were never written by such persons. 
 The book of Genesis, and other books of the 
 Pentateuch, are plainly the production of two 
 or more persons. Genesis contains two con 
 flicting accounts of the creation. The story 
 of the deluge is twice told ; the relation as to 
 how Abraham passi d off Sarah a* his sister 
 is repeated with discrepancies; and the cir 
 cumstance which also obliged Isaac to call 
 his wife Rebecca his sister, in order to escape 
 from the lust of Abimelech evidently the 
 same monarch who, by one of the accounts, 
 had been years previously smitten with the 
 beauty of Isaac's mother are all related in 
 the same book, manifestly confused accounts 
 of the same legend. 
 
 " There are also two conflicting reasons 
 given for the institution of the Sabbath, and 
 two distinct codes of the ten commandments. 
 
 " Several matters recorded in the Pentateuch 
 are nearly exact fac-similes of ihe mysteries 
 of the Babylonians. The creation in six 
 days is a perfect copy of the Gahans of Zoro 
 aster ; the particulars of each day's Avork are 
 also the same. The story of the serpent and 
 the fall was long famous among that people. 
 The mythological deluge of Ogyges is just 
 the same as Noah's flood, and the story of 
 Adam and Eve in paradise is a mere copy of 
 Zoroaster's first pair. The Talmud expressly 
 declares that the Jews borrowed- the names 
 of the angels, and even their months from 
 the Babylonians.* 
 
 " It is a great mistake to believe that the 
 Bible is the oldest book ; at the very time we 
 are told that all the inhabitants of the world, 
 except Noah and his family, were drowned, 
 the Hindoos existed as a great nation, and 
 Egypt and China had their learned men 
 their philosophers, their architects, their 
 astronomers, and historians ; and their vast 
 cities, burdened with an overflowing popula 
 tion. 
 
 " So palpable, indeed, re these facts, that 
 raiment Christian writers have declare;! their 
 disbelief in the authorship of such a person 
 us Moses. St. Jerome confesses that he 
 ' dares not' affirm that Moses wrote the 
 Pentateuch, but, like the Talmudists, he as 
 cribes it to Ezra, (Esdras.) Sir Isaac Newton 
 affirms, that it was neither Moses nor Ezra 
 who wrote the five books, but Samuel. Lord 
 Harrington asserts the same. The Rev W. 
 Fox, in his sermons, published in 1819, re 
 marks, 'That the early part of Genesis is a 
 compilation of ancient documents, and not the 
 writing of M<i8en has been the opinion of some 
 of the most able divines and sincere be 
 lievers.' The distinguished Christian pro- 
 
 * See " Age of Reason," p. 13. 
 
 fessor Du Pin is positive that ' we are not ccr 
 tainly assured of the true authors of most of 
 the books of the Old Testament.' These are 
 only a few of the authorities who openly dis 
 believe in the authorship of Moses. Almost 
 every book of the Bible has been in turn 
 doubted and defended ; and while Jewish 
 rites can be traced to a more ancient hea 
 thenism, nearly every thing of Christianity 
 is of Egyptian origin. 
 
 " It would," continued Mr. Mannors, " be a 
 difficult task to give, within the limits of a 
 single lecture, any lengthened review of the 
 other books of the Old Testament. We shall 
 merely say, that several of them are mostly 
 occupied with trifling details of silly observ 
 ances, hy no means edifying. Kings and 
 Chronicles contradict each other in almost 
 every chapter ; while other books are but 
 such accounts of atrocity, debauchery, and 
 gross indecency as to make humanity shud 
 der and shock all delicacy and refinement. 
 Any other book but that called the ' Holy 
 Bible,' containing such abominable records, 
 would be stamped forever as infamous. Yet, 
 wonder of wonders! though a great number 
 of these ' inspired texts,' are too impure to 
 be read or quoted from pulpit or desk, or 
 even breathed to 'ears polite.' Christian 
 priests will still uphold the imposition, and 
 positively tell us that every word was writ 
 ten for our improvement ! Who can trvdr 
 believe this ? 
 
 "But then we are vauntingly pointed to scrip- 
 tural miracles and prophecies as a glorious 
 refutation of the slanders of tmbelief. In 
 boasting of such evidences, Christianity but 
 follows the practice of far more ancient super 
 stitions. Religions imposture in every age 
 fortified itself with magic and miracles to over 
 come doubt and opposition ; and with prophe 
 cies which were as clearly and often more in 
 telligibly fulfilled than any that the Bible can 
 yet claim. Prophets have been a prolific race, 
 the raving and incoherent dreamers and en 
 thusiasts of ancient and modern times. Does 
 not even the Bible admit that some of its 
 prophetG were false and lying, and drunken 
 men, who 'divined for money,' and were jeal 
 ous, of each other's success ; who became as 
 often ' inspired' through the influence of wine, 
 or music, or dancing as they did by the hissine 
 idea which governed their feeble minds '.' 
 Micnh, 3d chapter, speaks of prophets who 
 ' divined for money,' but modestly speaks of 
 himself as being ' full of power.' Jeremiah 
 in second chapter, 14th of Lamentations, says, 
 ' Thy prophets have seen vain and foolish 
 things.' Isaiah, in chapters 9th and 28th, that 
 they 'teach lies' and are 'drunken.' These 
 passages do not particularly refer to foreign or 
 heathen wanderers, but to the recognized ' for 
 tune-tellers' of the time. (Jeremiah 20 : 7.^ AK 
 a prophet, he Complains, ' Lord ! thou hast 
 deceived me, and I was deceived :' and in the 
 14th chapter of E/ekiel, 7th verse, God himself 
 is made to say, And if the prophet be deceived 
 when he hath spoken a thing, ' / the Lard hav< 
 deceived that prophet.' Comment on such pro 
 phets and on such a deity would occupy to<' 
 much of our time at present. While we hayu 
 but just shown that many of the leading Chris*
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 113 
 
 tian priests had no confidence in the asserted 
 prophecies of Isaiah, Daniel, and Jonah, we 
 find that others of them, such as Dr. Keith and 
 Bishop Newton, have waded through a vast 
 mass of useless learning, to try and establish 
 the fulfillment of certain prophecies ; yet it is 
 now fairly proved that the greater number of 
 such predictions have failed. It has also been 
 placed beyond doubt that many of the so- 
 called prophecies were written after the event 
 happened to which they related ; while others 
 have been singularly falsified. 
 
 ' But what of the famous prophecy regard 
 ing the coming of the Messiah ? We reply that 
 no part of Scripture has been more unfairly 
 twisted to accommodate the desire of priests 
 than that which it is said relates to such an 
 event. We can now only notice the principal 
 prediction in Isaiah, which some tell us is 
 beyond all cavil : 
 
 " The kings of Israel and Syria,having united 
 in a war against the king of Judah, the latter 
 was much alarmed, but the prophet Isaiah as 
 sured him that they should not succeed against 
 him. The Lord to'ld the king to ' ask a sign,' 
 but the king declined, stating that he w.iuld 
 not ' tempt the Lord.' Isaiaii then said : 
 
 "'Therefore the Lord himself shall give you a 
 sign: Behold, a virgin shall conceive and bear a son, 
 and shall call his name Immanue! ; for before the child 
 shall know how to refuse the evil and choose the good, 
 the laud that thou abhorrest shall be forsaken of both 
 her kings.' Isaiah 7 : 14-16. 
 
 " This, then, was the sign promised to assure 
 the king of Judah of kis xiltimate success 
 over the two who had conspired against him ; 
 and, in order to secure the fulfillment of this 
 ' prophecy.' we are told in the very nex t chap 
 ter, 2d verse, that Isaiah himself got a pro 
 phetess with child, and that she afterward 
 bare a son. This is an abridgment of the ab 
 surd story, and had no more reference to Jesus, 
 who is said to have appeared several hundred 
 years afterward, than it had to Csesar or 
 Peter the Great. 
 
 " The assurance of success which Isaiah 
 gave to the king of Judah proved, however, 
 that Isaiah himself was one of the ' lying' pro 
 phets ; for, in the 2d book of Chronicles, chap 
 ter 28, it is recorded that, instead of the two 
 hostile kings being overwhelmed, Ahaz was 
 completely defeated ; the usual godly slaugh 
 ter of one hundred and twenty thousand of 
 his people having taken place in one day, 
 followed by the captivity of two hundred 
 thousaiid women, with their sons and daugh 
 ters: so much for the infallibility of Isaiah. 
 
 " Several enlightened Christians are inclined 
 to abandon this once favorite prophecy as un 
 tenable. Michael is. the learned Christian pro 
 fessor, p. 212, says, he ' can not be persuaded 
 that the famous prophecy in Isaiah, chapter 
 7, verse 14, has the least reference to the Mes 
 siah.' The church has been sorely troubled 
 to get rid of the difficulties arising from the 
 alleged prophecies relating to Christ. Wins 
 ton, the successor of Sir Isaac Newton as 
 mathematical professor, published a book to 
 prove that in early times the Jews had al 
 tered the passages of the Old Testament re 
 ferred to as prophetic of Christ. If such were 
 peally the case, the Old Testament could not 
 
 I be relied on in any particular. Winston's 
 theory was, however, much approved of, until 
 an actual comparison with the ancient Jewish 
 Scriptures proved them to be alike in their pre 
 dictions. Dr. Arnold tried to avoid the pro 
 phetic difficulty by saying, ' We find through 
 out the New Testament references made to 
 various passages in- the Old Testament which 
 are alleged as prophetic of Christ, or of some 
 particulars of the ChristiBn dispensation. 
 Now, if we turn to the context of these passa 
 ges, and so endeavor to discover their mean 
 ing according to the only sound principles of 
 interpretation, it will often appear that they 
 do not relate to the Messiah or to Chris 
 tian times, but are either expressions of reli 
 gious affect l ons generally ; or else refer to somo 
 particular circumstances in the life and condi 
 tion of the writer or of the Jewish nation, 
 and do not at all show that any thing more 
 remote, or any events of a more universal and 
 spiritual character, were designed to be pro 
 phesied. Every prophecy, as uttered by 
 man, (that is, by an intelligent and not a 
 mere mechanical instrument, ) and at the 
 same time as inspired by God, must, as far as 
 appears, have a double sense one, the sense 
 entertained by the human mind of the writer ; 
 the other, the sense infused into it by God. 
 We may even suppose the prophet to be total 
 ly ignorant of the divine meaning of his 
 words, and to intend to express .a meaning of 
 his own, quite unlike God s meaning.' This 
 reasoning of the learned and pious Dr. Arnold 
 in favor of a ' double sense' to prophecy, 
 and to assume that prophets did not know the 
 meaning of their own words, is very like tak 
 ing leave of common sense altogether. The 
 doctor further says, ' Generally the language 
 of prophecy will be found to be, hyperbolical, 
 as far as regards its historical subjects, and 
 only corresponding with the truth exactly if 
 we substitute for the historical subject the idea 
 of which it is the representative. It will be 
 found, I think, a general rule in all the pro 
 phecies of Scripture, that they contain expres 
 sions which will only be adequately fulfilled 
 in their last and spiritual fulfillment ; and that 
 as applied to the lower fulfillments, which 
 precede this, they are and must be hyper 
 bolical.' 
 
 " Upon this, Greg remarks, ' It is difficult to 
 grapple with a mode of interpretation such as 
 this; equally difficult to comprehend how an 
 earnest and practical understanding like Dr. 
 Arnold's could, for a moment, rest satisfied 
 with such a cloudy phantom. Our homely 
 conceptions can make nothing of an oracle 
 which says one thing but means something 
 very different and more noble ; which, in de 
 nouncing with minute details destruction 
 against Egypt, Babylon, and Tyre, merely 
 threatens final defeat to the powers of evil ; 
 which, in depicting, in precisest terms, the ma 
 terial prosperity reserved for the Israelites, 
 only intended to promise blessings to the vir 
 tuous and devout of every age and clime ; and 
 which, in describing ancient historical per 
 sonages, ditl so always with an nrriere pensee 
 toward Christ. If Dr. Arnold means to say 
 that the Old Testament prophecies signified 
 primarily, chiefly, and most specifically the 
 ultimate triumph of good over evil of God
 
 114 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 and virtue over the world, the flesh, and the I 
 devil, (and this certainly appears to be his 
 meaning) we can only reply that, in that 
 case, they are poetry and not prediction. To 
 conceive, therefore, this to be the meaning of 
 the God who is alleged to have inspired them 
 is to imagine that he used incompetent and de 
 ceptive instruments for his communications ; 
 and it is certain that, had the prophecies been 
 perfectly and unquestionably fulfilled in their 
 obvious sense, the secondary and recondite sig 
 nification would never have been heard of.' 
 
 " The double meaning which Christian 
 priests have advocated for Bible prophecies is 
 just what they have so often condemned in the 
 pagan oracles it was a way of escape for the 
 sibyl or prophet. In endeavoring to make 
 the so-called prophecies applicable, some of 
 the greatest minds have become puerile and 
 prostrated. Some have boldly asserted that 
 the prophecies are ' plain and explicit ;' but Sir 
 Isaac Newton, who was a believer, states that 
 ' God gave these, (revelations,) and the prophe 
 cies of the Old Testament not to satisfy men's 
 curiosity by enabling them to foreknow 
 things, but that, after they were fulfilled, they 
 might be interpreted by " the event." ' Hittel 
 says, ' Sir Isaac thus admits that the biblical 
 prophecies furnish no evidence of the truth of 
 the Scriptures or of the Messiahship of Jesus ; 
 for a prophecy which does not enable men to 
 foreknow things, but which is to be inter 
 preted by " the event" is a pitiful affair, in no 
 way superior to the predictions "of the hea 
 then oracles.' " 
 
 " In his discourse, page 31, Bishop Sherlock 
 says, ' That many of the latter prophecies are 
 still dark and obi-cure, and so far from evi 
 dently belonging to Christ and Christ only 
 that it requires much learning and sagacity 
 to show, even now, the connection between 
 some prophecies and the events.' 
 
 " The Jews, who should best understand their 
 own book, have ever denied the application 
 of the prophecy to Jesus. They charge the 
 Christians, in order to accomplish their pur 
 poses, with having ' changed in the original 
 nouns, verbs, tenses, and meanings.' In a 
 work called Israel Vindicatedt\\ey say, ' These 
 prophecies have repeatedly been shown by our 
 rabbins to have a different meaning from that 
 given them by the Christians, which it is im 
 possible for any one to mistake whose mind 
 is not predisposed to shut out the light of 
 truth.' 
 
 " That the Jewish imputation against Chris 
 tian piieste, of having ' changed in the origi 
 nal nouns, verbs, tenses, and meanings,' was 
 not undeserved or unj ust, we shall show from 
 the words of the great commentator, Doctor 
 A dam Clarke. Speaking of the quotations usu 
 ally made from the Old Testament, he says, 
 that many of them ' are accommodated' to the 
 New Testament story, ' their own historical 
 meaning being different, may be innocently 
 credited ; but let it always be remembered 
 that these accommodations are made by the 
 same spirit by which the Psalms were origi 
 nally given. Many passages of the Old Tes 
 tament seem to be thus quoted (as predictions) 
 in the New. And often the words a little 
 ottered and the meaning extended, to make 
 them suitable to existing circumstances.' If 
 
 this is not a palpable evidence of pious fraud, 
 we wonder where a plainer one can be found. 
 Words actually ' altered' and their meaning 
 ' extended '! The doctor, ' innocently ' how 
 ever, places the burden on the ' spirit ;' that is 
 the spirit which first directed the prophet 
 to say, while should afterward influence the 
 transcriber or translator to say black! 
 
 We can not in the present uiscourse refer any 
 further to the prophecies ; another opport unity 
 may be offered for that purpose. It has been said 
 that prophecy is 'prose run mad.' and it ig 
 plain that its study has greatly distracted the 
 reasoning powers of some devout thinkers. 
 What erratic fulfilments have learned priests 
 extracted from the prophetic word! The 
 Pope, and Luther, and Napoleon have each in 
 turn been made to stand godfather to the wild 
 creations of Daniel ; and lesser lights, such 
 as John Hawkins, Esq., prove that Britain is 
 the kingdom which, according to Daniel, God 
 will set up ! Captain Maitland illustrates 
 Daniel by Revelation ! J. H. Frere proves 
 that Daniel, Esdras, and St. John found their 
 accomplishment in Bonaparte ! and the ex- 
 king of Sweden asserts that Bonaparte is the 
 beast of Revelation ! Dr. Whiston, professor 
 of mathematics at Cambridge, of whom we 
 have spoken, believed that the bringing forth 
 of rabbits by one Mary Tofts, according to 
 the then popular delusion, was the accom 
 plishment of a prophecy in Esdras ! and among 
 many others at _ the present day, we have a 
 Cumming, or a Bagster, who, in silly lectures 
 or in prosy pamphlets, opens the ' seven vials,' 
 or wrestle with ' the beast with seven heads,' 
 or with the ' red dragon,' or marches with 
 triumphant pace to the great battle of Arma 
 geddon ; we all know that these tedious ex 
 positions, so far, have been about as lucid as 
 that of a certain Irish legislator, who, while 
 in a supposed state of derangement, insisted 
 that Armageddon really meant Armagh, ' be 
 cause in the apocalyptic version something 
 is incidentally said about fine linen.' It truly 
 seems that one is about as near the mark as 
 the other. We shall finish our present remarks 
 on prophecy by a brief quotation from that 
 greatly traduced, but noble and benevolent 
 man, THOMAS PAINE. 
 
 " ' According to the modern meaning of the 
 word prophet, and prophesying, it signifies 
 foretelling events to a great distance of 
 time ; and it became necessary to the in 
 ventors of the Gospel to give it this lati 
 tude of meaning, in order to apply or to 
 to stretch what they call the prophecies of the 
 Old Testament to the times of the New ; but, 
 according to the Old Testament, the prophesy 
 ing of the seer, and afterward of the prophet, 
 so far as the meaning of the word seer was 
 incorporated into that of prophet, had refer 
 ence only to things of the time then passing, 
 or very closely connected with it ; such as the 
 event of a battle they were going to engage 
 in, or of a journey, or of any enterprise they 
 were going to undertake, or of any circum^ 
 stance then pending, or of any difficulty they 
 were then in ; all of which had immediate re 
 ference to themselves, (as in the case already 
 mentioned of Aliaz and Isaiah, with respect to 
 the expression, Behold a virgin shall conceive, 
 and bear a son,) and not to any distant future
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 115 
 
 time. It was that kind of prophesying that 
 corresponds to what we call fortune-telling; 
 such as casting nativities, predicting riches, 
 fortunate or unfortunate marriages, conjuring 
 for lost goods, etc. ! and it is the fraud of the 
 Christian church, not that of the Jews; and 
 the ignorance and the superstition of modern, 
 not that of ancient times, that elevated those 
 poetical, musical, conjuring, dreaming, stroll- 
 in"- gentry into the rank they have since 
 had.' 
 
 " Those who have leisure will find priestly 
 speculations on prophecy a very amusing 
 study. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 " THE New Testament is said to contain the 
 last written revelation from God to man. It 
 now includes but twenty-seven separate tracts, 
 called books. Formerly, as was stated, there 
 were a great many more, over fifty different 
 gospels having been received at one period ; 
 but as it seems that various degrees of inspi 
 ration were imparted to certain contending 
 councils, who undertook to make a selection, 
 the books considered necessary for man's sal 
 vation were, as we have shown, very prudent 
 ly reduced to the present number. 
 
 " Among the principal books of the New 
 Testament are the four gospels, said to have 
 been written by the persons whose names they 
 bear ; but for this, there is no evidence what 
 ever, neither can it be shown when, or where, 
 or at what time they were written ; there is 
 not an original manuscript of any of them in 
 existence, nor can it be proved that any such 
 were seen during the first century ; * and 
 it is a remarkable fact that Christ himself, the 
 real hero of the New Testament, never wrote 
 a line of it ; all we have of his reputed acts or 
 sayings is mere hearsay. These gospels, how 
 ever, profess to give a true history of the 
 birth, life, and death of the Christian Saviour ; 
 and so much has been said as to their entire 
 harmony, as synoptical records, that one is 
 amazed in discovering how widely they differ 
 where it is presumed they ought to be in per 
 fect agreement. 
 
 " Matthew commences by giving the gene 
 alogy of Christ from David up through Jo 
 seph, the husband of Mary, and makes tttienty- 
 sijc generations ; Luke also gives a genealogy 
 from Christ through Joseph down to David, 
 the same progenitor, but records forty-three 
 generations, through a different line of ances 
 try. Now, if Matthew was right, Luke must 
 have been wrong ; aad as equal inspiration 
 has been claimed for both, it one is wrong, 
 both may be wrong. 
 
 " The annunciation is not mentioned in the 
 gospels ascribed to Mark and John, but is 
 differently related in Matthew and Luke. The 
 former says, that the angel appeared to Joseph, 
 the latter that it was to Mary ! 
 
 " Matthew alone mentions any thing concern 
 ing the destruction of the children by Herod ; 
 upon this important matter, the other Gospels 
 are singularly silent ; no historian of the d*ty 
 uiakes the slightest allusion to such a circum- 
 
 * The oldest we new have are of the fifth century. 
 
 stance ; neither does Josephus (and he would 
 not have spared Herod) say a word about 
 such a cruel act. There is no proof that such 
 a slaughter by Herod ever took place, and the 
 story has been pronounced apocryphal. An 
 atrocity of this kind would have caused a 
 great sensation, and would have besn noticed 
 bv historians. Sir William Jones, in his 
 (Christian Theism, page 84, gives reason 
 for believing that the whole story is probably 
 of Hindoo origin,* and Greg says, ' Luke's 
 account entirely precludes the sojourn in 
 Egypt. He says that eight days after the 
 birth of Jesus he was circumcised, &\\A. forty 
 days afterward he was presented in the tem 
 ple, and that when these legal ceremonies 
 were accomplished, he went with his parents 
 to Nazareth.' There is a strange discrepancy 
 between Matthew and Luke as to where Joseph 
 and Mary originally lived. Luke says they 
 lived at Nazareth before the birth of Jesus, 
 Matthew declares they did not reside there un 
 til after that event. 
 
 " Matthew, in particular, has been noted for a 
 tendency to ' accommodate,' or find in Jesus 
 the fulfillment of supposed prophecies ; and to 
 'alter' and 'extend' words and meanings 
 for that purpose. To effect this, he has nar 
 rated circumstances respecting which the 
 other evangelists remain silent His repeated 
 expressions, ' That it might be fulfilled,' 'For 
 it is written,' and others of a similar kind, 
 were used to adduce passages which had no 
 possible reference or application to Jesus, but 
 merely to show the dogmatic purpose of the 
 writer ; and we have already shown that emi 
 nent Christian men do not accept such appli 
 cation. 
 
 " At the birth of Christ, Matthew tells us 
 (chapter 2) that idse men came from the East 
 to worship him, and were directed by a star ; 
 Luke states (chapter 2) that they were but 
 shepherds from a field, led by an angd ! 
 
 " Matthew (chapter 8, verse 5) informs us 
 that a centurion came personally to Jesus, and 
 begged him to heal a servant ; Luke (chapter 
 7) says that the centurion did not go himself, 
 but sent ' elders of tJie Jews ' to request the 
 favor ! 
 
 " Matthew's frequent amplification, or rather 
 multiplication, is quite apparent. In chapter 
 eight, he gives an account of the healing of 
 two furious demoniacs whose unclean spirits 
 entered a herd of swine ; but Mark and Luke 
 
 * Many centuries before the birth of Christ, the Hin 
 doo scriptures contained the following legend con 
 nected with the incarnation of Chrishnu, the favorite 
 god or " saviour " of India : 
 
 Chrishnu, a god-begotten child, was the son of Vish 
 nu, the principal god of the Hindoo Trinity, by a wo 
 man named Uevaki, the wife of Vasudeva. Shortly 
 before the birth of Chrishuu, a mighty demon called 
 Kausa, being apprised that a child would be born that 
 was forever to overthrow his power, summoned his 
 chief, Asuras, and ordered : ' Let active search be 
 made for whatever young children there may be upon 
 the earth, and let every boy of unusual vigor be slain 
 without remorse." 
 
 Tin' sacred child, Chrishnu, was, however, saved by 
 Nauda, a cowhrrd. whose wife had a child of the same 
 age called Kama, or Uala llama, and spoken of as the 
 brother of Chrishnu. 
 
 This very ancient legend was, it is said, derived by 
 the Hindoos from a tradition still more remote, and 
 is, no doubt, one of those upon which is most certainly 
 founded the myth of Herod's slaughter of the muo 
 cents.
 
 116 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 say there was only one demoniac. This story, 
 however, is one of the most wretched scriptu 
 ral absurdities, and has cast a leaven of doubt 
 into the mind of many a believer. 
 
 " In the twentieth chapter of Matthew, there 
 is the repetition of a miracle related in the 
 ninth chapter, giving sight to two blind men 
 near Jericho ; but Mark (10th) and Luke (18th) 
 mention the cure of only one blind man, and 
 only on one occasion. 
 
 " Matthew and Mark give two variable ac 
 counts of the feeding of the multitude ; while 
 Luke and John tell of but one feeding. Mat 
 thew (chapter 14) says there were about Ji-ce 
 thousand men, besides women and children, 
 and only ' Jive loaves and two fishes,' and that 
 alter all had been fed, twelve basketfuls re- 
 remained. In the next chapter, he repeats the j 
 miracle four thousand men, ' besides women 
 and children,' were then fed ; there were 'seven 
 loaves and a few little fishes,' and seven bas- 
 ketsful remained. Neither Mark nor Luke 
 say there were any ' women and children ;' 
 and many commentators believe that there 
 was but one feeding of a multitude. 
 
 " According to Matthew, Mark, and Luke, 
 Jesus, ' immediately ' after his baptism in the 
 Jordan, 'was led (or driven) by the spirit into 
 the wilderness,' where he remained forty 
 days ' tempted of the devil.' This is truly 
 one of the most improbable stories in the New 
 Testament ; even John the evangelist must 
 have disbelieved it, for his gospel altogether 
 excludes such a conference. John, in his first 
 and second chapters, gives a positive contradic 
 tion to the narrative. He states that on the 
 first day after the baptism, Jesus remained with 
 John, (the baptist ;) that he conversed on the 
 second day with Peter ; that he attended the 
 marriage of Cana on the third day ; after that, 
 he went to Capernaum, and afterward to the 
 passover at Jerusalem ; leaving it therefore 
 impossible for Jesus to have been at all in the 
 wilderness, even for a single day ! 
 
 " At the baptism of Christ, John ' bare record ' 
 of him, and ' saw the spirit like a dove de 
 scend upon him,' heard the recognition of his 
 sonship in a voice from heaven, ' and, looking 
 upon Jesus as he walked, he (John) saith, 
 Behold the lamb of God !' Yet, strange to 
 say, shortly afterward Matthew, chapter 11, 
 Luke, chapter 7 the very same John, when 
 in prison, ' sent disciples ' to Jesus to learn 
 whether he was the true Messiah ! ' Art thou 
 he that should come, or look we for another V 
 Much priestly ingenuity has been used to 
 shield John the Baptist from inferred oblivi- 
 ousness, but the r* cord is too plain. 
 
 " We must overlook numerous other discre 
 pancies we shall not have time to examine 
 them on this occasion and we will only refer 
 at present to those relating to the crucifixion, 
 and to subsequent events recorded by the 
 apostles. 
 
 " When Christ was brought to execution, 
 Matthew says, ' They gave him vinegar to 
 drink, mingled with gall ;' Mark says, ' \Viue, 
 bungled with myrrh!' 
 
 " Matthew atiirms that the tiro thieves who 
 were crucified with Christ reviled him at the 
 time ; Luke writes that but one ' malefactor ' 
 
 did so, and was rebuked by the other for 80 
 doing ! 
 
 " The four evangelists differ as to the exact 
 words of the superscription on the cross. 
 
 " The discrepancies respecting Judas are re 
 markable. According to Matthew, (27th 
 chapter) Judas repented, returned the thirty 
 pieces of silver, and then hung himself; and 
 that the priests took the money and buuylit 
 the potter's field with it. 
 
 "Acts 1 : 18 implies that Judas did not re 
 pent, that he did not return the money, that he 
 was not liung ; but states that he ' purchased 
 a field with the reward of iniquity, and lall- 
 ing ln-adloug, he burst asunder in the midst, 
 and all his bowels gushed out !' 
 
 " Matthew relates that extraordinary occur 
 rences took place immediately after the death 
 of Christ. ' The vail of the temple was rent in 
 twain, the earth did quake, the rocks rent, 
 graves were opened, bodies of the saints 
 which slept arose and came out of the graves 
 after his resurrection, and went into the holy 
 city, and appeared unto many.' What a fear 
 ful time, and what dreadful appearances ! 
 All quite public! Yet Matthew alone makes 
 such a record. No other writer of the New 
 Testament makes any allusion to such an 
 earthquake or opening of graves. 
 
 " The account is very confused. Verse 52 of 
 the 27th chapter leads us to believe, that the 
 dead arose and appeared on the very day of 
 the crucifixion, but the next verse says, that 
 they came out of their graves ' after the re 
 surrection.' These statements are admitted 
 to be irreconcilable. Greg says, ' There can, 
 we think, remain little doubt in unprepossess 
 ed minds that the whole legend was one of 
 these intended to magnify and honor Christ, 
 which were current in great numbers at the 
 time when Matthew wrote, and which he, 
 with the usual want of discrimination and 
 somewhat omnivorous tendency which distin 
 guished him as a compiler, admitted into his 
 gospel. ' * 
 
 " When Christ was put into the sepulchre, 
 Matthew states that the Pharisees applied to 
 Pilate for a guard to be placed over it, to pre 
 vent the body being stolen ; and that a watch 
 was therefore set and the sepulchre sealed. 
 Yet none of the other gospels say any thing 
 of such an av>plication, or of any watch or 
 guard, or of the sealing of the sepulchre, or 
 of the earthquake. According to their ac 
 counts, there were none of the^e things. 
 
 "After the resurrection, Matthew says that 
 Jesus first appeared to Mary Magdalene and 
 the other Mary, on their way from the sepul 
 chre, who ' held him by the feet, and worshiped 
 him.' lie next met the eleven disciples, by ap 
 pointment, 'upon- a mountain, in Galilee. 
 
 * Similar prodigies were said or supposed to ac 
 company the deaths of many great men in former days, 
 [long before Christ,] as in the case of Ca'twr. (Virgil, 
 Georg. 1, 4li3, et seq.) Shakespeare lias embalmed some 
 traditions of the kind, exactly analogous to the pre 
 sent case. See Julias (Jamr, act 11., scene 2. Again 
 he says, Hamlet, act i. scene 1 : 
 
 "lu the most high and palmy state of Rome, 
 
 A little ere the mightiest Julius lell. 
 The graves stood tenantles*, and the sheeted dead 
 Did squeak and gibber iii the Itoinan streets." 
 Grey, p. 138.
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 117 
 
 "According to Murk, ' He appeared first to 
 Mary Magdalene ;' next, ,' in another form, to 
 two of tliem ;' ' afterward to tlie eleven as they 
 sat at meat !' 
 
 " By Luke, first, 'toward evening' as he 
 sat at meat with two at a village ' called 
 Emmaus, which was from Jerusalem about 
 three-score furlongs.' Next, he appeared 
 in the midst ' of them ' at Jerusalem, where 
 he ate ' broiled fish and honey-comb.' After 
 this, he led them out as far as Bethany, and, 
 having blessed them, ' was parted from them 
 find carried up into heaven.' 
 
 "According to John, he first appeared at the 
 sepulchre to Mary Magdalene, whom \\efvrbid 
 to touch him ; afterward, on the evening of the 
 same day, at Jerusalem, in the midst of his dis 
 ciples, in a closed apartment, the doors being 
 shut ; eight days afterward, in the same place, 
 when Thomas was present, who was permitted 
 to toi.irh him, ; and again, for the last time, to 
 his disciples, at the Sea of Tiberias. 
 "The startling discrepancies in these accounts 
 as to when, where, by whom, and how often 
 Jesus was seen after his death should, one 
 might think, entirely disqualify them from 
 being received as evidence. Those who will 
 take the trouble to read the passages in full 
 from the Testament will discover the utmost 
 confusion as to time, place, and circumstance ; 
 we shall just look at two or three of them. 
 One account says that Mary Magdalene and 
 the other Mary held Jesusby the feet ; another, 
 that he would not permit himself to be touch 
 ed by her, because he had ' not yet ascended 
 to his Father ' ! And yet another account 
 certifies, that he allowed Thomas to touch and 
 examine his hands, feet, and side! 
 
 " One account states that Christ first met his 
 disciples, after the resurrection, upon a moun 
 tain in Galilee ; other accounts state that he 
 met them at meat, in a closed room, at Jerusa 
 lem ! One account leads to the certain infer 
 ence that he took final leave of bis disciples 
 at Bethany, and ascended to heaven the very 
 day of his resurrection ; another states that he 
 remained and ate and drank with his disciples 
 for several days after his resurrection ; and 
 Acts 1 states that he ascended from Mount 
 Olivet ! It would be impossible to compile 
 more glaring contradictions. 
 
 " The several accounts of the conversion of 
 Paul are at variance ; and, had we time, we 
 could furnish such a list of palpable discre 
 pancies and contradictions, such clashing, 
 repugnant, incompatible, and inconsistent his 
 tories, statements, and doctrines, all given as 
 ' inspired truth,' that we venture to say no 
 other book yet printed can exceed tlie Bible 
 in this particular in the same number of 
 pages. 
 
 " Even after all the inspiration said to have 
 been given, and after all the great care taken ! 
 to make the present selection of biblical books ! 
 perfect, yet many chapters, parts of chapters, 
 and verses have been declared spurious! In j 
 the New Testament, the first and second j 
 chapters of Matthew ; the first and second of 
 Luke ; the hist twelve verses of the sixteenth 
 chapter of Mark ; besides certain verses, here 
 and there, in gospels, acts, and epistles. In 
 this scientific, enlightened, and inquiring age, 
 
 there can be no greater fraud than to continue 
 to assert that such an incongruous mass aa 
 that contained in the Christian Bible is a re 
 flection of the divine mind or a revelation 
 from a Supreme Being to man. 
 
 " The doctrines of the Bible are not original. 
 Many nations of antiquity had similar reli 
 gious creeds and ceremonies, long before the 
 alleged time of Moses. The wonderful re 
 semblance between the religious docurinea 
 and ceremonies of the Jews and Egyptians 
 have led believers in the Bible with peculiar 
 assumption to assert that the Egyptians were 
 but mere copyists from Moses ; but at the 
 time when it is said that Abraham entered 
 Egypt, the few score Jews that then existed 
 were rude, wandering shepherds ; dwellers in 
 tents, ignorant and unskilled. Then, at that 
 very period, Egypt was a proud, ancient king 
 dom, with a dense agricultural population ; 
 it had its learned and scientific men ; it had 
 houses, and palaces, and temples, and of many 
 of these the rich and significant ruins still re 
 main. Those who have investigated the 
 antiquities of that country assert these facts. 
 Kendrick, in his Ancient Egypt, says, ' It is a 
 remarkable fact that the first glimpse we ob- 
 tuin of the history and manners of the Egyp 
 tians shows us a nation already far advanced 
 in all' the arts of civilized life ; and the same 
 customs and inventions that prevailed in the 
 Augustan age of the people, after the acces 
 sion of the eighteenth dynasty, are found in the 
 remote age of Osirtasen, the cocemporary of 
 Joseph, nor can there be any doubt that they 
 were in the same civilized state when Abraham 
 visited the country.' 
 
 " We shall look at the similarity of a few of 
 the ceremonies. The Egyptians had an ark, 
 boat, or shrine carried in procession by the 
 priests ; the Mosaic ark was born by the Le- 
 vites. Gods of the ancients were said to travel, 
 and were provided with such an ark for con 
 veyance ; the Jews had an ark of the cove 
 nant, into which their god occasionally en 
 tered. Speaking of the ark of the covenant 
 as being but a model of the Egyptian shrine, 
 Kendrick says, ' The mixed figures of the 
 cherubim, which were placed at either end 
 and overshadowed it with their wings, has a 
 parallel in some of the Egyptian representa 
 tions, in which kneeling figures spread their 
 wings over the shrine.' Kitto, in his Biblical 
 Cyclopedia, furnishes indirect evidence as to 
 which was the more ancient religion ; in 
 order to illustrate what cherubim were, he 
 gives engravings of Egyptian sphinxes ! 
 Who will assert that Judaism is older than 
 such Egyptian sculptures? 
 
 " Hittel states that ' The religious ceremonies 
 of the Hebrews bore a remarkable resem 
 blance to those of the Egyptians. The Jews 
 considered Jerusalem a holy city, and attribut 
 ed great religious merit to pilgrimages 
 thither. In the valley of the Nile, there were 
 holy places also. The great temple of Arte 
 mis, at Bubastis, was visited by 700,000 pil 
 grims annually, if we can believe the report 
 of Herodotus, who visited Egypt while tha 
 ancient superstition was still in full favor with 
 
 tlie people.' 
 
 " The Egyptians offered sacrifices of vege-
 
 118 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 tables and animals to the gods, and so did the 
 Jews. The Jewish and Egyptian priests slew 
 the sacrificial animals in the same manner, 
 by cutting the throat. The Egyptians pre 
 ferred red oxen without spot for sacrifice, and 
 Moses directed the selection of a red heifer. 
 (Num. 19 : 2.) The custom of the scape-goat 
 (Lev. 16 : 21) was common to both nations. A 
 sacred fire was kept continually burning in 
 the temple of Thebes as well as in India. 
 (Lev. 6 : 12, 13.) Egyptian priests took off 
 their shoes in the temples, and Joshua took off 
 his shoes in a holy place. (Josh. 5 : 15.) The 
 Egyptian priests danced before their altars, 
 and the same custom prevailed in Jerusalem. 
 (Ps. 149 : 3.) The practice of circumcision, 
 claimed by Moses as a divine ordinance com 
 municated to Abraham, is proved by the 
 monuments of Egypt to have been fully esta 
 blished there at a time long antecedent to the 
 alleged date of Abraham. Herodotus wrote 
 that in his time ' the Phoenicians and the 
 Syrians say they learned it (circumcision) from 
 the Egyptians.' The Egyptians had their 
 unclean meats, including pork, as well as the 
 Jews. The Egyptians anointed their kings 
 and priests long before there were any kings 
 or priests in Israel. The Urim and Thum- 
 mim, (Ex. 39 : 8, 10 ; Lev. 8 : 8,) which play a 
 stupid part in the books of Moses and Joe 
 Smith, were once not inappropriate figures of 
 Re, the god of light, and Therm, the goddess 
 of justice, (whence the Greek Themis,) worn 
 on the breasts of Egyptian judges. 
 
 " The Jews reverenced the name of Jehovah 
 precisely as the Egyptians did the sacred name 
 of Osiris. It is even known that Herodotus, 
 after having been at Memphis, when writing 
 about that divinity, would not use his name. 
 
 " Certain writers in favor of the Jews have 
 had the temerity to assert that the idea of one 
 supreme God originated with them. The 
 Rev. Robert Taylor, in his Diegesis, gays, ' The 
 notion of one Supreme Being was universal. 
 No calumny could be more egregious than 
 that which charges the pagan world with ever 
 having lost sight of that notion, or compro 
 mised or surrendered its paramount impor 
 tance in all the varieties and modifications of 
 Kgan piety. This predominant notion (admits 
 asheim) showed itself, even through the 
 darkness of the grossest idolatry.'* 
 
 " That the worship of Egyptian, Jew, and 
 Pagan was in many respects very absurd, 
 few are now inclined to doubt ; but the 
 Egyptian was more speculative and philo 
 sophical. Much has been said concerning 
 their worship of the onion. The Rev. Robert 
 Taylor says, ' The respect he (the Egyptian) 
 paid to it referred to a high and mystical order 
 of astronomical speculations, and was purely 
 emblematical. The onion presented to the 
 eye of the Egyptian visionary the most curi 
 ous type in nature of the disposition and 
 arrangement of the great solar system.' This 
 learned author, in his Diegeis proves, we 
 think to a certainty, that the Jews ' plagiarized 
 
 * All the inferior deities In Homer are represented as 
 then addressing the supreme JOVE 
 " O first and greatest GOD I by gods adored, 
 We own thy power, our Father aud our Lord." 
 
 Iliad. 
 
 the religious legends ' and ceremonies of other 
 nations, particularly from the Egyptians, and 
 that their ancient and mystical theology forms 
 the grand basis of the Jewish patch-work of 
 rites and ceremonies, so often mistaken for 
 the original creed, and so lauded as the 'di 
 vine porch to the temple of the New (Testa 
 ment) by the clerical autocrats of Exeter Hall.* 
 
 " But what of Christianity 1 Was not that 
 something original? Was not the idea of a 
 God-begotten child, of a celestial Saviour, 
 entirely new 1 Surely, there was something 
 in this ' wonderful plan,' of which man had 
 no previous conception. Let us see. It was a 
 common idea in ancient times to fancy that 
 great men or great heroes were descended from 
 the gods. Jesus Christ had prototypes in 
 -cEsculapius, Hercules, Adonis, Apollo, Pro 
 metheus, (who it is said was crucified,) Chrish- 
 nu, and many othere. Of JSsculapius, the 
 Rev. Robert Taylor Bays, (Diegesis p. 149,) 
 ' The worship of JEsculapius was first estab 
 lished in Egypt, the fruitful parent of all 
 varieties of superstition. He is well known 
 as the god of the art of healing, and his 
 Egyptian or Phoenician origin leads us irre 
 sistibly to associate his name and character 
 with that of the ancient Therapeuts, or society 
 of healers, established in the vicinity of 
 Alexandria, whose sacred writings Eusebius 
 has ventured to acknowledge were the first 
 types of our four gospels. The miracles of 
 healing and of raising the dead, recorded in 
 those Scriptures, are exactly such as these su 
 perstitious quacks would be likely to ascribe 
 to the founder of their fraternity. 
 
 " ' By the mother's side, ^Esculapius was the 
 son of Caronis, who had received the embraces 
 of God, but for whom, unfortunately, the wor 
 shipers of her son have forgotten to claim the 
 honor of perpetual virginity. To conceal 
 her pregnancy from her parents, she went to 
 Epidaurus, and was there delivered of a eon. 
 whom she exposed upon the Mount of Myrtles; 
 when Aristhenes, the goat-herd, in search of a 
 goat and a dog missing from his fold, dis 
 covered the child, whom he would have car 
 ried to his home had he not, in approaching 
 to lift him up, perceived his head encircled 
 with fiery rays, which made him believe the 
 child to be divine. The voice of fame soon 
 published the birth of a miraculous infant ; 
 upon which the people flocked from all 
 quarters to behold this heaven-born child. 
 
 " ' The principal result, however, of this re 
 semblance is the evidence it affords that the 
 terms or epithets of ' our Saviour ' the 
 Samour being God, were the usual designa 
 tions of the god .iEsculapius; and that mira 
 cles of healing and resurrection from the dead 
 were the evidence of his divinity for ages be 
 fore similar pretenses were advanced for Jesus 
 of Nazareth.' 
 
 " Middleton, in his Free Inquiry, says : 
 ' Strabo informs us that the temples of JSscu- 
 lapius were constantly filled with the sick, 
 imploring the help of GOD ; and that they 
 
 * The religious ceremonies of the Egyptians and 
 Jews were so similar, that the Koinan law. in the timo 
 of the emperors, to prohibit the worship of Isis in 
 the capitol, spoke of the Jewish worship as though it 
 were not distinguishable from that of the 
 HUM.
 
 119 
 
 
 had tables * hanging around them in which 
 all the miraculous cures were described. 
 There is a remarkable fragment of one of these 
 tables still extant, and exhibited by Gruter 
 in his collection, as it was found in the ruins 
 of .33sculapius' temple in the island of the 
 Tyber in Rome ; which gives an account of 
 two blind men restored to sight by ^Escula- 
 pius in the open view and with the loud accla 
 mations of the people, acknowledging the 
 manifest power of the god.' It was said that 
 lEsculapius not only cured the sick, but raised 
 the dead; and that Jupiter, having become 
 fearful or jealous of his power, 'slew him 
 with a thunderbolt.'! 
 
 " We shall pass over the others, to call your 
 attention to the remarkable coincidence there 
 is between the history of Christ and that of 
 Prometheus. The name corresponds with 
 that given to the Christian deity, Providence. 
 Prometheus, it was asserted, was both god 
 and man. His character and attributes are 
 depicted in the beautiful tragedy of yEschylus, 
 Prometheus Bound, written over five hundred 
 years before the Christian era, the plot being 
 then taken from 'materials of an infinitely 
 remote antiquity.' Prometheus was, it is said, 
 crucified at Mount Caucasus, as an atonement 
 for others. At his crucifixion, there was great 
 darkness and a terrible storm ; rocks were rent, 
 graves were opened, and all left him except a 
 few faithful women ! The story will be found 
 more detailed in the Diegesis of the Reverend 
 Hobert Taylor ; or, had we the lost ' gospel to 
 the Egyptians,' it might shed some light up 
 on that great forerunner of the Jewish Logos.:): 
 In connection with this, we might mention 
 that the cross is of pagan origin. Taylor says, 
 (Diegeris, p. 2()1,) ' It should never be forgot 
 ten that the sign of tke cross, for ages anterior 
 to the Augustan era, was in common use 
 among the (Jentiles. It was the most sacred 
 symbol of Egyptian idolatry. It is on most 
 of the Egyptian obelisks, and was believed to 
 possess all the devil-expelling virtues which 
 liave since been ascribed to it by Christians. 
 The monogram, or symbol of the god 
 Saturn, was the sign of the cross, together 
 with A ram's horn. Jupiter also bore a cross 
 with a horn, Venus a cross with a circle. The 
 famous Crux Arugoata is to be seen in all the 
 buildings of Egypt ; and the most celebrated 
 temples of the idol of Chrishnu in India, 
 like our Gothic cathedrals, were built in the 
 form of crosses. 1 
 
 * Tablets. 
 
 t Ovid, who wrote before the time of Christ, gave 
 In Ms MttamorpfiosM, second book, this prediction 
 eonaerningtiie life and actions of J3sculapius,the great 
 physicians 
 
 " Once s the -sacred Intant she surveyed. 
 The god was kindled in the raving maid, 
 And thus si&e uttered her prophetic tale : 
 Hail, great physician of the world ! all hail 1 
 Hail, mighty infant 3 who in years to come 
 Shall heal Ihe nation* and defraud the tomb. 
 Swift be thy growth., thy triumphs unconflncd, 
 Make kingdoms thicker, and increase mankind ; 
 Thy daring art shall animate the dead, 
 And draw tlw3 thunder on thy guilty head ; 
 Then tkou shall die, bat from the dark abode 
 Shalt rise victorious iand be twice a god." 
 
 Addison's versification. 
 
 $ See Potter's translation of JSschylus. 
 
 " ' On a Phoenician medal found in the ruins 
 of Citium, and engraved in Dr. Clarke's Tra 
 vels, and proved by him to be Phoenician, are 
 inscribed not only the cross, but the rosary or 
 string of beads attached to it.' The cross 
 was also found in the ancient temple of Sera- 
 pis. A pious writer, Mr. Skeltoa, says, ' How 
 it came to pass that the Egyptians, Arabians, 
 and Indians, before Christ came among us, 
 paid a remarkable veneration to the sign of 
 the cross is to me unknown ; but the fact it 
 self is known.' 
 
 " Another very marked resemblance is to be 
 found between Sakya Muni, the Buddhist sav 
 iour, and Christ. Hittel says, ' The life of 
 this saviour, Sakya Muni, bears much simi 
 larity to that of Jesus. He was an incarnate 
 god, and was born of a married virgin of 
 royal blood. He spent six years in the wilder 
 ness as a hermit, and, having been purified 
 by penance, he went to the populous districts 
 of Hindoostan. and to the sacred city of Be 
 nares, where he preached the gospel of Bud 
 dhism, wrought miracles, and made numerous 
 converts. Sakya did not commit his doctrine 
 to writing ; his disciples composed numerous 
 sacred books, containing records of his life 
 and teachings.' 
 
 " Hue, in his book Journey through the Chi' 
 nese Empire, chapter fifth, states, ' If we ad- 
 dres-ed a Mongol or Thibetan this question, 
 " Who is Buddha ?" he instantly replied, " The 
 saviour of men." The marvelous birth of 
 Buddha, his life and instructions, contain a 
 great number of moral truths and dogmas 
 professed in Christianity.' And yet these 
 ' moral truths ' were disseminated ages be- 
 fore Christ. 
 
 " Father Booris, a Catholic missionary to the 
 Buddhists of Cochin China, in the sixteenth 
 century, was astonished to discover rites and 
 ceremonies among that people similar to those 
 of his own church ; and upon this he wrote, 
 ' There is not a dress, office, or ceremony in 
 the Church of Rome to which the devil has 
 not here provided some counterpart.' And 
 Murray, in his History of Discoveries in Asia, 
 alluding to Father Booris, says, ' Even when 
 he began inveighing against the idols, he was 
 told that these were the images of departed 
 great men, whom they worshiped exactly 
 on the same principle and in the same man 
 ner as the Catholics did the images of the 
 apostles and martyra.' In fact, while Chris 
 tianity has been called a ' revamp of Bud 
 dhism,' ' the Buddhism of the West,' Mil- 
 man and Remusat speak of Buddhism as ' the 
 Christianity of the East.' 
 
 " Were we not limited for time, we could 
 give you numerous other coincidences, and also 
 prove that many sayings attributed to the 
 Christian Saviour were maxims uttered cen 
 turies before his birth. The most noted pla 
 giarism of this kind is that of the golden 
 rule of Confucius, whose 24th maxim runa 
 thus : ' Do to another what you would he 
 should do unto you ; and do not unto another 
 what you would not should be done unto you. 
 Thou only needest this law alone ; it is the 
 foundation and principle of all the rest !' 
 
 "We find that there are three principal cha 
 racters in the Christian Bible : the ' Almighty,
 
 120 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 or spirit of good ; ' Satan," the spirit of evil ; 
 and the person known as the ' Redeemer.' 
 There is no account given us of the creation 
 of Satan or of the numerous angels, good and 
 bad, which are said to exist. We are told 
 that this desperately wicked being and his 
 adherents were once denizens of heaven itself, 
 
 lion, seeking whom lie may devour,' doing 
 with a certain impunity, all the harm he can. 
 That God, desirous of revealing his will to 
 man, did so, through the agency of men whom 
 he inspired for that purpose, many of whom 
 were grossly wicked characters. That a God 
 of pity, whose mercy enduieth forever, in 
 
 and, consequently, must have been pure and anger drowned the world in a great flood, and 
 ' holy.' Satan is now known as the wicked and j burnt Sodom and Gomorrah. That he chose, 
 
 designing one, ' going about seeking whom he 
 may devour.' The Divine Being is said to 
 have created all things, and to have pro 
 nounced them ' very good.' How, then, came 
 he to create such a fiend as the 'devil,' and 
 permit him to have such perfect freedom, even 
 to thwart Heaven's designs, and with sufficient 
 influence to counteract the ' atonement ' and 
 successfully urge frail humanity down .to 
 ' eternal ruin' ? 
 
 " Bible worshipers tell us that that book is 
 plain and easily understood ; that it is the 
 pure, unadulterated ' word of God.' Yet, upon 
 examination, it is found false in its history 
 and science, gross and impure in its morality, 
 and full of absurdities, contradictions, and 
 anachronisms. Priests, with lengthy and learn 
 ed commentaries, then endeavor to explain. 
 When they find a palpable error, they say, ' It 
 must be a mistake ;' when a glaring discre 
 pancy is discovered, then they find an ' interpo 
 lation.' Show them a plain contradiction, 
 they will make it a ' false translation ;' point 
 
 in preference to all others, a wretched and 
 barbarous race, the Jews, to whom he was 
 especially favorable ; that he assisted them to* 
 conquer, rob, murder, and utterly destroy 
 other nations; and that yet ' there is no re 
 spect of persons with God'.' That God, some 
 times alone and sometimes in company of 
 attendants, visited men, talked with them, 
 and ate and drank in their presence ; and yet 
 that ' no man hath aeon God at any time.' 
 That David, a robber and murderer, was a 
 man 'after God's own heart ;' that Solomon, 
 proud and licentious, was a ' wise ' man. 
 That God made the sun and moon stand still, 
 in order that a greater number of ' his enemies ' 
 should be slaughtered. That Elijah, in a 
 chariot of fire, drawn by horses of fire, went 
 up alive to heaven ' in a whirlwind ;' and yet 
 that ' no man hath ascended to heaven but he 
 that came down from heaven.' That a witch 
 raised and conversed with the dead Samuel. 
 That Nebuchadnezzar 'ate grass like an ox.' 
 That Balaam's ass spake. That a whale de- 
 
 them to grossly indecent passages, they are j voured Jonah, and that he was afterward cot 
 ' figurative.' Question them about absurdi- 1 up alive and unharmed. That Lazarus, dead 
 
 ties of doctrines, they will call them 'myste 
 ries.' Tell them of the violence and inhu 
 manity of God's chosen rulers and people, and 
 they will find you a ready excuse. They will 
 find a plea for indecency, treachery, and blood ; 
 and were the Bible stamped on every page, 
 as it is in many chapters, with assertions con 
 tradictory to science, reason, and common 
 sense, the plea will be, ' it is because they 
 
 and in a presumed state of decay, was brought 
 to life. That a herd of swine became possessed 
 of devils. That there is a hell where a ' mer 
 ciful" Creator will torture 'the condemned' 
 with ' fire and brimstone' forever, and that his 
 ' redeemed saints ' shall look upon such atro 
 cious cruelty with satisfaction and approval. 
 
 " This, then, is the revelation about which 
 interested priests and those they can ' convert ' 
 
 are above our finite comprehension !' And | keep up such an excitement ; they tell us, with 
 
 the unmerciful, revengeful deity of the Jews 
 ' the assassin of humanity ' will be repre 
 sented as a God of compassion, ' full of pity 
 and loving-kindness, whose mercy endureth 
 forever!' 
 
 " To submit to the teachings of the Christian 
 Bible, you must believe that there is a Supreme 
 Being, pure, just, loving, and merciful; that 
 he is at the same time partial, wrathful, and 
 unforgiving. That he created all things and 
 pronounced them good, and afterward repent 
 ed having made them because they were evil. 
 . That man was created pure, and holy, and in 
 the likeness of the deity ; and, that afterward, 
 without being permitted to know good from 
 evil, he ' fell,' and became sinful and wicked 
 
 professional effrontery, that it is a ' free gos 
 pel,' while we all know that Christianity is 
 the most costly of all religions, exorbitant 
 and unceasing in its demands. During the 
 last fifty years, the British and American 
 Bible Societies boast that they have circulated 
 '80,000,000 of copies of the word of God 
 among the heathen.' Who can truly prove 
 that in so doing they have served the cause 
 of humanity ? In Britain, we have four million 
 sermons annually to explain conflicting doc 
 trines, and a crowd of jarring sects to retard 
 human progress and perpetuate strife. It is 
 said that at the birth of Christ the temple of 
 Janus was closed ; there was then universal 
 peace; but since that period, the Gospel has. 
 
 at the very first temptation. That Adam and j been ' a sword ' upon the earth and religion 
 his posterity were condemned and cursed for a greater woe to mankind 1" 
 the offense of his ignorance ; but that in the 
 course of time a deity came down from 
 heaven, assumed human form, and died, ' the 
 just for the unjust,' to satisfy the 'justice' 
 of a loving Creator. That the deity who suf 
 fered, called the Son, was just as old as his 
 father. That there is but one God, and that 
 
 there are three Gods. That, notwithstanding 
 the power of omnipotence, there is a devil 
 Laving freedom to go about ' like a roaring 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 THERE was a great shadow moving toward 
 Hampstead Cottage a shadow that was des 
 tined to rest there, and lie bleak and cold 
 upon the hearts of some of its inmates for 
 ever 1
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 121 
 
 The darling of the household had a few days 
 previously taken a severe cold, and inflammato 
 ry symptoms had increased. The delicate boy 
 was very low ; and as he lay restless and fever 
 ish in his sick chamber, his sister and Hannah 
 were indefatigable in their gentle attentions. 
 The attack was rather sudden ; and though 
 Mrs. Mannors felt quite alarmed at first, she 
 " poured out her soul in prayer," and recovered 
 her equanimity. She had now no fear ; she 
 would have no physician, but was willing to 
 leave results in the hand of God ; she was 
 issured he would not take her child from her. 
 liach day she would repeatedly look in upon 
 !ier afflicted son, and would pray a short time 
 it his bedside, and then move about from 
 room to room humming pious tunes, and mut 
 tering to herself encouraging texts and prom 
 ises made to the faithful ; and after listening 
 to expressions of anxiety from Hannah, she 
 would reproach her for want of faith, and even 
 liint that she was falling from her high estate ; 
 and then she would go on humming again, 
 in a state of the most cheerful resignation. 
 
 Her disposition in this respect was unusual 
 ly strange. Since the meeting at Exeter Hall, 
 nhe had attended revival or protracted meet 
 ings at Mr. Baker's church, and for over a 
 month past her absent manner had been no 
 ticed, and she would say, that, while "dwell 
 ing upon the promises," her soul seemed to 
 leave its earthly tenement and wander to 
 ward Calvary ; and that she was becoming 
 more and more indifferent to the things of 
 earth, almost weaned from every tie hus 
 band, children, home. This condition she 
 insisted was the best evidence of her entire 
 devotion to Christ. Formerly, the least mis 
 hap to William touched her maternal feelings 
 to the quick ; and if it were of a serious nature, 
 she would become almost distracted ; but now, 
 when Mary wept in secret over the sufferings 
 of her brother, when even Hannah could scarce 
 ly find consolation from John Bunyan, Mrs. 
 Mannors was perfectly calm and confident ; 
 her matured faith came to her rescue from de 
 spondency in the hour of trial. 
 
 The stillness around the whole place was 
 very great. Outside, the sunbeams seemed, 
 as it were, to steal down timidly upon the ivy, 
 among the trembling 1 leaves, and upon the 
 cages at the door, inducing slumber instead 
 of awakening the sprightly melody of the little 
 prisoners. The flowers appeared to signal 
 Bad tidings to each other, and then mournfully 
 bend down their pretty innocent heads ; and 
 ihe soft, sad wind came along in whispers, 
 as if cautioning you not to speak above a 
 breath. Flounce missed his companion, and 
 oven when resting upon the smooth garden 
 walk, his silken head between his fore-pa \vs, 
 would look up whiningly toward the curtained 
 window where William first greeted him each 
 morning ; and people as they passed, heard 
 neither laugh nor song, and wondered at the 
 unusual quietness. Within the house, there 
 was almost a perfect hush ; the ticking of the 
 clock alone could be heard in the lower rooms ; 
 while the quick, heavy breathing of the pa 
 tient, and the sigh of his loving, sympathizing 
 mister were distinctly audible in the upper 
 apartments ; and no sound was allowed to 
 
 disturb any momentary slumber that might 
 weigh down the weary lids of the poor sufferer. 
 Mr. Mannors felt the affliction very keenly ; 
 the doctor had but just left without having 
 given any great encouragement, and the own 
 er of llampstead Cottage now sat alone in 
 his quiet study, thinking painfully of the 
 brooding trouble that seemed to approach like 
 the first great cloud over the sunshine of his. 
 life ; the first entry of sadness into his pleas 
 ant home. Though very anxious, he was, 
 however, still hopeful, and trusted that, with 
 proper treatment and attention, William 
 might be aaain restored. But this was not 
 his only care ; he was a keen observer, and 
 had noticed the gradual indifference shown 
 by Mrs. Mannors, not only toward himself, 
 but to every one in the house ; she did not 
 seem to realize the danger of her child. Even 
 Hannah felt that her mistress was getting, as. 
 she said, " like another person," seldom 
 speaking to her about household matterfe, and 
 still more seldom on religious subjects ; ali 
 was most unaccountable. She saw her mis 
 tress go about alone, and heard her pray 
 alone ; often saw her sit an hour or longer at 
 a time in the garden or summer-house, ap 
 parently thinking, or brooding upon some 
 dark, mysterious subject, yet seemed to take 
 no more pleasure in communicating her 
 thoughts to her; this to poor Hannah was a 
 sore deprivation, the reason of which sht 
 could not fathom. Notwithstanding all this, 
 Mrs. Mannors was more devoted than ever to 
 her religious duties. Night after night she- 
 would attend " meeting," and would keep by 
 herself upon her return ; she seemed indeed 
 to forget that she had ever communed with 
 Hannah about future blessedness. 
 
 This conduct astonished Mr. Mannors very 
 much, and now, as lie sat thinking, he expe 
 rienced an unusual depression of spirits ; vis 
 itors could not be received. Mr. Capel had 
 been away for several days, and might not re 
 turn very soon, as he knew nothing of Wil 
 liam's illness ; there was no friend near 
 to sympathize ; the- house seemed desolate, 
 and as he turned his eyes toward the garden, 
 every thing- was as gloomy as his own 
 thoughts. Never before bad he- felt so dejected ; 
 but, after pacing the room for a few minutes* 
 he again sat down, determined to meet every 
 trouble like a brave man neither to cower in 
 adversity, nor despond in misfortune. ' ; These 
 trials," said he, " are incident to human life ; 
 no matter how severe, I shall try and meet 
 them in a becoming manner, and act my parfe 
 to the best of my ability." 
 
 It was getting toward evening, all was yet 
 still, and Mr. Mannors, having taken but little 
 rest for several nights past, dozed in his- 
 study ; he sat in his cushioned chair, with hia 
 arm under his head, resting upon his desk, and 
 his short slumber brought consolation as well 
 as refreshment it gave him a pleasant, dream, 
 a dream of William's restoration ; and in that 
 mirage of the desert, sleep, he saw William and 
 Mary sit again among the sun-lit hills, and 
 watched the dear stream sparkling and run 
 ning at their feet. He was suddenly awak 
 ened by a slight noise in the adjoining room ; 
 he looked up, and Mrs. Mannors- stood befor
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 him. There was a wildness in the expression 
 of her foce, and she held out a Bible at arm's 
 leagth, and her other hand was raised in 
 a threatening manner. He was a little 
 startled, and, without replying to his inquiry 
 about William, his wife, in slow and solemn 
 voice read from the book of Job, " How oft is 
 the candle of the wicked put out ! and how oft 
 con/eth their destruction upon them ! God 
 dislribuieth sorrows in his anger. They are 
 as stubble before the wind, and as chaff that 
 the storm carrieth away. God layeth up his 
 iniquity for his children ; he rewardeth him, 
 and lie hall know it. His eyes shall see de 
 struction, and he shall drink of the wrath of 
 the Almighty." 
 
 "' Emma, Emma," said Mr. Manners quickly 
 rising, " what does this mean ?" 
 
 But she heeded not ; as he approached her, 
 ehe stepped back, and again read, " This is 
 the portion of a wicked man with God, and 
 the heritage of oppressors which they shall 
 receive of the Almighty, If his children be 
 multiplied, it is for the sword, and his off 
 spring shall not be satisfied with bread. 
 Those that remain of him shall be buried in 
 death, aad his widows hall not weep." 
 
 " O Emma 1 why do you read this ? Do sit 
 down," said he tenderly, and he tried to lay his 
 hand npon her upraised arm. Again she re 
 treated ; a frown settled upon her troubled 
 face, and. looking sternly at him, repeated this 
 Terse from the fourth chapter of Hosea, 
 " Seeing thou hast forgotten the law of 
 thy God, I will also forget thy children." 
 So saying, she flung the Bible with great 
 lorce at his feet, and turned to leave the 
 Toom. He seized her arm, and begged of 
 "her to be seated, to be calm, and talk to 
 "him in her accustomed manner. " Talk to 
 you," said she, turning upon him with a 
 ecowl ; "talk to you! Have I not spoken to 
 you, and entreated you for years without 
 avail ? Talk to youl My God ! Have you not 
 rejected the promises and threatenings of the 
 Oospel, aad despised God's sanctuary and his 
 ministers? Have you not lived without God 
 and without hope in the world ? and," said she, 
 lowering her voice, " you will die in despair ; 
 and your blood yes, your blood be upon 
 your head, be upon your own head." 
 
 She again tried to get free, but the strong 
 arm of her husband held her in the chair. 
 " Let me speak to you, Emma," said Mr. Man- 
 Dors, getting alarmed. " Let me speak to you. 
 What is the matter t why do you speak to me 
 in this way ?' 
 
 " Unbeliever, be gone ! We have been un 
 equally yoked! Oh! how I have sinned by re 
 maining here so long I What if God has with 
 drawn his Spirit, has withdrawn his Spirit eter 
 nally, eternally ? I must flee from this city of 
 destruction I must, I most!" 
 
 Hannah, hearing the unusual exclama 
 tions, just then rushed into the room, and 
 aw her mistress in an excited state, strug 
 gling to get away. The poor girl was 
 dreadfully alarmed, and tried to soothe her 
 the best way she couid. It was of no 
 use : Mrs. Manners only reproached her 
 again, and told her that she was in league 
 with the evil one and giving encouragement 
 
 to an unfaithful man. " Yes," cried she, now 
 standing out on the floor and stamping with 
 her foot, "Unfaithful, unfaithful to me and to 
 the God who made him ! I will abide among 
 ye no longer." 
 
 Mr. Manners, pale and calm, looked with, 
 pity upon the woman for whom he would 
 readily have laid down his life ; he seemed to 
 realize at once the dreadful woe that had 
 fallen upon her a woe almost as dreadful to 
 him, who understood its nature. Fearing that 
 any alarm might, at this critical time, have a 
 fatal effect upon his child, he whispered to 
 Hannah, who now almost bewildered, stood 
 weeping, and trembling, and pleading before 
 her mistress, and left the room to enter the 
 sick chamber. 
 
 Just as he was about to step upon the stairs, 
 a pale-faced young man, with an extravagant 
 shirt collar, a person whom he had seen some 
 where before, and who might have been 
 standing or waiting at the door some time un 
 heard, handed him a letter ; it was from his 
 Solicitors, Vizard & Coke, Gray's Inn ; and as 
 Mr. Manners hurried up to the sick-room, the 
 young man lingered a moment or two, and 
 with sinister expression leered into the par 
 lor where Hannah and Mrs. Manners were 
 yet standing, and then, when he was walking 
 away, he muttered, " Unfaithful ! unfaithful ! 
 What ! such a paragon as Martin Manners 
 lacking virtue !" 
 
 About seven o'clock that evening, many 
 persons were seen moving toward Mr. Baker's 
 church, at Hampstead ; a great revival was in 
 progress, and for several successive nights a 
 motley crowd of saints and sinners had been 
 collected, and it was said, as it always is said, 
 that a great deal of good had been done ; "the 
 Lord was making bare his arm," that sinners 
 were " struck down on the right hand and 
 upon the left," and that " many precious 
 souls" were now able to sing and rejoice, hav 
 ing obtained " the blessing," and been fully 
 restored to divine favor. In about an hour's 
 time, the church was crowded ; those who 
 were " under conviction," mostly women, oc 
 cupied seats and pews nearest the pulpit ; 
 while it was manifest that those who selected 
 the back seats, or loitered around the door 
 ways, belonged to the " unregenerate," of 
 whom there were still a sufficient number to 
 excite the sympathy and start the spiritual 
 activity of the most skilled and energetic gos 
 pel workmen. Two preachers occupied the 
 pulpit, and two others, supernumeraries, sat 
 within the railing which enclosed it and the 
 communion-table, ready at the proper time to 
 perform their parts toward the spiritual re 
 novation of such sinners as might be brought 
 within their reach. Indeed, it was plain to 
 be seen that they need not remain M ] e for 
 want of material ; for, by the looks, and ges 
 tures, and whispers of a large number of the 
 congregation, there were many who appeared 
 to attend but for mere pastime, or more pro 
 bably to enjoy a scene peculiar to revivals. 
 
 The Rev. James Baker now stood up in tho 
 pulpit, and, having looked around with a kind 
 of clerical scrutiny at the congregation, said, 
 " Let us begin the worship of God by singing 
 to his praise the hymn to be found on paga
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 123 
 
 
 27, common metro ;" and then, with slow and 
 doleful voice, read out one of Wesley's hymns 
 of six verses, commencing, 
 
 " Terrible thought ! shall I alone, 
 
 Who may be saved, shall I, 
 Of all, alas ! whom I have known, 
 Through gin, forever die f 
 
 " While all my old companions dear, 
 
 With whom I once did live. 
 Joyful at God's right hand appear, 
 A blessing to receive. 
 
 " Shall I amid a ghastly hand, 
 
 Drugged to the judgment-seat 
 Far on the left with horror stand, 
 My fearful doom to meet ?" 
 
 During the time occupied in reading the 
 hymn, several other persons entered the 
 church, and every seat was crowded. Having 
 finished, he read again, and gave out the first 
 two lines of the first verse ; the choir, who 
 were in the gallery, commenced to sing the 
 hymn to the tune of " Mear ;" an organ led, 
 and as the player fancied that the occasion re 
 quired its most thundering tones, so he per 
 formed, and the air rushed through the sten 
 torian pipes nearly loud enough to drown all 
 the principal voices ; it would be next to im 
 possible to combine the dipt words or muti 
 lated lines in any intelligible form. During 
 this particular part of " divine service," most 
 of the congregation turned from the preacher 
 in the pulpit, and almost one and all gazed 
 up at the harmonious assemblage in the gal 
 lery. A person might think that the dreary 
 music was to them the most important and 
 attractive part of religious duty, and that they 
 came specially to hear a pious song instead of 
 a long sermon ; several, however, who stood in 
 front, nearest the railing, " raised their voices 
 in praise" and joined in the singing with par 
 ticular fervor. 
 
 At the conclusion of the hymn, the preacher 
 began his prayer in a low and tremulous voice 
 at first ; then with more spirit ; then the 
 words came faster and louder ; yet louder 
 still; then loud, long, and vociferous his 
 hands being extended in front, and sometimes 
 waving over his head while every word 
 seemed to fall like a shaft from a thunder 
 cloud among the trembling sinners of the 
 congregation. The preacher strained his voice 
 to the very utmost, until at last he became 
 hoarse, croaky, and incoherent ; he rather | 
 gasped than shouted, and when he could scarce- j 
 ly articulate any longer, he suddenly descend- 1 
 ed from the fortissimo, and panting from the I 
 terrible efforts he had made, closed the prayer i 
 in his natural voice. 
 
 The appeal itself was as exciting as the man- 1 
 ner of him who was interceding ;,he depicted 
 the state of the lost sinner ; the wrath of God i 
 and the terrors of the damned ; and at irregu- 1 
 lar intervals, during the continuance of his ' 
 invocation, cries and groans could be heard i 
 from those around him. Some would clap j 
 their hands ia ecstasy ; some raise them in 
 despair. Some would cry out suddenly, " Bless 
 the Lord, bless the Lord!" " Lord, save, or I 
 perish !" " Son of David, have mercy upon me !" 
 'I am lost, forever lost!" "OQod!" "OLord!" 
 till at one time it seemed as if each one of the 
 whole congregation was shouting in a different ! 
 
 key, in a different tongue, to a different God 
 a bedlam let loose plunging the timid in 
 apprehension, and forcing alarm upon the 
 weak-minded, while many nervous persons 
 were atfected by the most painful emotions. 
 Another hymn was then sung in a minor 
 strain, and at its close it was evident that the 
 feelings of most present were in a sufficiently 
 plastic state, ready to receive any inpression. 
 
 Mr. Baker's pulpit-companion then stood 
 before the people ; he was an older man, mild- 
 looking, and less robust ; his lank, gray 
 hair hung down behind, covering his coat- 
 collar, and in front it was parted in the 
 centre. He waited with lugubrious aspect 
 until all were settled in their seats ; until 
 every rustle and cough had subsided ; then, 
 drawing a long sigh, he gave out as his text, 
 the three last verses of the third chapter of 
 Lamentations, " Render unto them a recom 
 pense, Lord ! according to the work of their 
 hands. Give them sorrow of heart, thy curse 
 unto them. Persecute and destroy them in 
 anger from under the heavens oi the Lord." 
 
 The sermon which followed though not a 
 fair illustration of the text was a terrible 
 picture of the woe which would surely result 
 from, "wickedness and unbelief;" these 
 words he repeated several times, as being 
 synonymous. The wicked man might grow 
 up and prosper for a while, and might con 
 sider the wretched enjoyments of this world 
 as only worth living for ; who could see no 
 sin in their delusive attractions, or, if he 
 did, would put off repentance ; who was wil 
 ling to procrastinate, in order to dally a little 
 longer with the vanities of life. Such a -one 
 might perhaps find himself suddenly cut off, 
 cursed by God, and bewailing his misery in 
 the lowest depths, in company with scoffers 
 and unbelievers. It was " a terrible thing to 
 fall into the hands of the living God." To 
 secure heaven, every idol should be struck 
 down. No sacrifice should be considered too 
 great to insure eternal happiness. The 
 treasures of the heart, friends, home, children, 
 were unworthy to be permitted to stand in the 
 way, and, if .necessary, these even these 
 should be forgotten for the " Friend of sin 
 ners. " 
 
 During the discourse, the preacher at timea 
 became most excited ; his voicn was loud, and 
 his gesticulation often wild and rapid, stamp 
 ing, thumping the desk, or clapping his hands. 
 He used a battery of threatening texts, and 
 a profusion of sounding words, to depict God's 
 anger ; and after he had drawn a lively 
 picture of eternal torments, he lowered his 
 voice, and cautioned, beseeched, entreated, 
 yea, commanded, his terror-stricken hearers 
 to " flee from the wrath to come," to accept 
 " God's plan of salvation " ere it be forever too 
 late. Alas ! they might now hear the voice 
 of pleading the voice of God's minister for 
 the last time ; and it might be that ere the 
 rise of another sun, some now present 
 might stand terror-stricken at the bar of an 
 offended God. But, he said, there was still 
 hope, another opportunity yet offered ; they 
 were as yet, thank God, out of hell here he 
 raised his voice again, and thumped the 
 pulpit ; and lowering it to a hush, said, " Th
 
 124 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 Mediator is still pleading ; now, yes, now, is the 
 accepted time, and by presenting yourselves 
 this night before the mercy-seat, God, even 
 our God, may be yet gracious." 
 
 When the discourse was ended, there was a 
 feeling of relief ; some began to breathe more 
 freely, but many others were deplorably cast 
 down. The preachers left the pulpit and 
 joined their brethren below. An invitation was 
 then given to all those who felt a desire " to 
 flee from the wrath to come" to approach, and 
 openly present themselves before the Lord, in 
 order that the people of God might unite with 
 them in prayer for their deliverance. 
 
 " Come, friends, come !" said one of the 
 preachers, rubbing his hands in a business-like 
 way, " come to the Lord ; he is waiting to be 
 gracious yes, poor sinner, he is waiting for 
 you! We shall now sing a few verses, and, 
 as we do so, let every one who thirsts draw 
 nigh." 
 
 When he was speaking, a great many did 
 go forward and kneel at the railing ; four out 
 of every six of the " penitents " were women, a 
 majority of whom were young ; there were 
 also several young men. Others remained in 
 their pews, as if to await a more direct and 
 pressing invitation from the preachers, who 
 were sure to move about among the congre 
 gation, and urge repentance upon such as 
 might be found to be most easily entreated. 
 
 The old Wesleyan hymn, 
 
 " Come, ye sinners, poor and needy, 
 Weak and wounded, sick and sore," 
 
 was now sung out briskly by preachers, 
 penitents, and by all around the " anxious- 
 seats ;" the choir in the gallery took no part. 
 After a couple of verses were finished, prayer 
 again followed ; one, very loud and special, was 
 offered up in behalf of those " under convic 
 tion :" sighs, and groans, and mutterings 
 could be heard in every direction ; and from 
 those who came to mock, an occasional titter 
 would follow the uncouth or extravagant mani 
 festation of feeling by some more impressible 
 penitent than ordinary. Presently, every one 
 who could pray began ; the grave, the lively, 
 the fearful, the terrified, the hopeful and the ex 
 ulting, all were heard addressing the " throne 
 of grace " together, in the most irregular and 
 disorderly manner ; and high above all, in al 
 to, resounded the prayer of one local preacher, 
 whose powerful voice and still more powerful 
 lungs were equal to such an emergency. 
 
 Near one poor sinner, who was shouting 
 wildly for mercy, there sat another on the 
 floor in the lowest state of despondency ; and 
 then a pious brother or sister would stoop 
 down and whisper, " Pray on, sister, pray on. 
 God is willing to be gracious ; do not give up." 
 And very often this peculiar process of conver 
 sion would force a shout for mercy, or a shriek 
 of despair from many who almost thought 
 themselves forever lost. Meantime, during 
 the holy uproar, one or two preachers and 
 a few of the converted and experienced mem 
 bers of the church went slowly about firm 
 pew to pew, now pleading with one, now 
 entreating another, " to turn to the Lord ;" 
 now making a fraternal inquiry as to the 
 tate of a sister's soul, or whispering a word 
 
 of encouragement to a brother struggling 
 under his heavy burden of sin. Mrs. Baker and 
 other matured female members were also 
 engaged in the same way tendering pious 
 consolation. 
 
 At intervals, as some penitent professed to 
 have found " peace," exclamations would fol 
 low from many " Praise the Lord !" " Bless 
 the Lord!" " Glory, glory !" "Hallelujah!" 
 " Amen !" and others, under the impulse of 
 the moment, would cry out and clap hands as 
 if to signal the triumph. 'Then all would 
 rise and sing again. 
 
 Mr. Baker, having passed from one to another 
 in the mean time, now addressed a plain 
 working-man, who appeared to be looking 
 on with the greatest indifference ; he stood, 
 his hands in his pockets, leaning leisurely 
 against one of the pillars supporting the 
 gallery, quite unmoved by the excitement ; 
 evidently one of the many who regard this 
 peculiar method cf spiritual renovation as a 
 delusion. 
 
 " Brother," said Mr. Baker, gently laying 
 his hand on the man's shoulder, " how is the 
 Lord dealing with your soul 1 do you feel that 
 you have no interest in " 
 
 " See here," cried the man abruptly, " I want 
 none of jjour gammon no, 1 don't. Go on 
 and make fools and idiots of them before you ; 
 they are fools, but the knaves that make them 
 what they are should suffer ay, they should." 
 
 Mr. Baker started back as if stung by a 
 scorpion ; he looked sharply at the man's face 
 in the dim light ; it was a lace not altogether 
 strange ; he began to feel angry, and for a 
 moment scrutinized every feature. 
 
 " Yes, look at me," said the man, with the 
 same imperturbable coolness ; " if you don't 
 know me, I know you yes, I do ; and you'd 
 know me better if I could put such chaps as you 
 in the common Bridewell for what you've been 
 doing ; you would know me then, you would." 
 
 " How dare you come here and speak 1o me 
 this way in the house of the Lord '(" said Mr. 
 Baker, getting very much irritated. 
 
 " House of the Lord ! house of the dev !" 
 
 " Wretch !" cried Mr. Baker, without giving 
 the man time to finish the last syllable of a 
 profane word. ' Did you come here to pollute 
 the sanctuary, and interrupt divinq service? 
 I shall have you arrested." 
 
 "To pollute the sanctuary," said the man, 
 repeating the words scornfully ; " better call 
 it a mad-house that's what it is. Do you call 
 that divine service?" said he, pointing to the> 
 fearful religious confusion before him. " Do 
 you call them poor creatures as ones havin' 
 their common senses ? and do you call that, 
 poor raving lady yonder as is walking up and 
 down afore ye all do you call her converted ?" 
 
 " Ah !" said Mr. Baker, " I know who you 
 are now. Did you come here to scoff, at your 
 master's bidding '/" 
 
 " I came, but it was not to listen to your 
 stuff ; I came, at his bidding, to see after that 
 poor lady ; y< u ought to be proud of your 
 work you ought. But the law is on your 
 side ; only for that, yee only for that. Well, 
 if you were a man as had human nature in you, 
 youV have her away from here long ago ; but 
 you'r.- not," said Robert, now getting excited,
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 125 
 
 " you're like the rest of your tribe ; there's 
 nothing good only what you have. You 
 should he made to pay for your deviltry you 
 should." 
 
 Robert never flinched an inch as he gave 
 his opinion so freely. His resolute manner 
 somewhat cowed Mr. Baker, who now, as if 
 struck by what had been sakl, or by some 
 fancied eccentricity in Mrs. Mannors upon 
 whom he had steadfastly looked since Robert 
 had pointed toward her went quickly away 
 without making any reply, and whispered to 
 his wife, who was still busy among the peni 
 tents. 
 
 "Ay, you may go now," said Robert, in a 
 kind of growling under-tone, as the preacher 
 walked u;> hurriedly between the pews. "You 
 may go, but you're too late. Your prayers 
 will never more do her any good never. 
 She's not the first that's been here to save her 
 soul and lose her reason not the first." 
 
 At this time, and since the close of the ser 
 mon, Mrs. Mannors had been walking alone, 
 Backward and forward, in a passage behind 
 the pulpit leading to a " class-room " or kind 
 of vestry. Her bonnet was off, and her un 
 bound hair fell upon her shoulders. She 
 would occasionally stop and look at the con 
 fused scene before her with a frightened or 
 bewildered ga/.e ; or pause to listen for a 
 moment to the tumult of dismal sounds, and 
 then suddenly dart back, as if terrified at 
 something she had heard. Her lips moved 
 continually, and at times she would heave a 
 deep sigh, and in a low melancholy voice 
 would utter, " I am lost, I am lost ; O God ! 
 save me." 
 
 It was noticed that the first few evenings 
 of her attendance at the revival she went 
 amongst the penitents and prayed with them, 
 as did Mrs. Baker and other members of her 
 " class ;" she was rather more demonstrative 
 than usual ; then all at once became demure 
 and reserved, and for the past night or two 
 kept mostly by herself, doing nothing very 
 particular to attract attention ; indeed, if she 
 had, the revival excitement being at its 
 height would prevent even a very extrava 
 gant act from being observed ; for where 
 nearly all seemed for the time to abandon 
 ordinary decorum, one perhaps more singular 
 ly afflicted than Mrs. Mannors might not be 
 suspected. 
 
 Mrs. Baker, followed by her husband, went 
 toward the passage where Mrs. Mannors was 
 walking. They stopped at a little distance 
 to watch her movements, and see whether 
 they could be justified in assuming that her 
 mind was impaired. The scrutiny must have 
 satisfied them ; a look of deep meaning 
 passed from one to the other, and though 
 they stood closer to her than at first, she paced 
 on moodily as before, without raising her eyes 
 from the floor or changing the sad expression 
 of her faca. It was pitiful to see this wreck ; 
 and the preacher, anxious to attract her atten 
 tion and speak to her, now stood right in her 
 way the passage itself was rather gloomy 
 and when she suddenly came upon his dark 
 figure, she started back in alarm, raised her 
 hands, gave a wild cry, and fell trembling on 
 the floor. 
 
 Mrs. Baker and one or two sisters raised the 
 demented woman, and led her into the room 
 back of the church. The cry, though pierc 
 ing, did not seem to disconcert the revivalists 
 for any time it was taken to be one of the 
 ordinary elfectsof that spiritual despair which 
 is said to precede the assurance of heavenly 
 reconciliation ; and wh le fruitless efforts and 
 prayers were made in the vestry to win back 
 reason, and dispel the frightful apparitions of 
 a frenzied brain, every means was used in the 
 church to bring others to the dangerous verge 
 of despondency ; and the continued sighs, and 
 groans, and shouts of alarmed sinners in the 
 sanctuary, given to appease an "angry God," 
 could now be heard in that closed room, like 
 the wailing of a distant tempest, the rush of 
 waves, and the doleful death-cry of struggling, 
 drowning men. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 IT was late that night before Mrs. Mannora 
 could be induced to leave the class-room. She 
 had stealthily made her escape from her own 
 house in the evening, and dreaded to return 
 to her home. It was, she said, the " city of 
 destruction," and she fancied she had com 
 mitted the unpardonable sin by remaining 
 there so long. She never spoke of her chil 
 dren, and was silent when their names were 
 mentioned. She seemed to think that Hannah 
 and her husband were but specious fiends, 
 endeavoring to lure her on to perdition : her 
 insanity was undoubted, and she could no 
 longer be allowed to go about unattended 
 particularly as William yet continued in a 
 very critical state. Mrs. Baker and another 
 pious friend, however, remained with her 
 until the next day, and, as she grew no better, 
 it was deemed advisable to have her removed 
 for a time ; and Mr. Mannors consented that 
 she should be taken to Mrs. Baker's residence ; 
 he felt satisfied that she would receive every 
 attention, and that, in the mean time, it would 
 be a friendly asylum. 
 
 Mr. Capel returned the day afterward, much 
 to the satisfaction of all in Hampstead Cot 
 tage : he was astonished at the suddenness 
 of the calamity that had fallen upon his 
 friend, and no one could be more assiduous 
 in endeavoring to mitigate the severe trials to 
 which he was subjected. Mary, from watch 
 ing day and night at the bedside of her 
 brother, was sadly changed ; and poor Han 
 nah's eyes were red with weeping, as well for 
 the woe which had fallen upon her mistress 
 as on account of the disease which she believed 
 was slowly but surely wearing out the young 
 life of one to whom she was so much attached. 
 
 How lonely the whole place appeared ; 
 there was but little difference between noon 
 and midnight. Ominous looking clouds came 
 along, and streamed down upon the house as 
 they passed away ; and the trees around 
 siglied audibly as if an October wind a pre 
 mature blast were about to rob them of their 
 foliage. The long hours of the day as well as 
 of the night sped slowly by, as if they were 
 willing to slacken pace and add a few mo 
 ments longer to the lingering, limited exist-
 
 126 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 ence of the young sufferer. Alas ! thought 
 Mr. Capel, as he sat alone in the once pleasant 
 parlor, what a shadow is human life how 
 evanescent ! It is but as yesterday since one, 
 apparently happy and sound in mind, wel 
 comed me like a mother to this place, loldme 
 of her dreams, and visions, and hopes, and of 
 the bright future in the distance ; now that 
 mind is a blank, every pleasant and maternal 
 recollection is blotted out, and she may go 
 down to the grave without any dawning of 
 reason. It seems but an hour since the gentle 
 laugh of him who was her pride but now in 
 the clutches of death was heard like music 
 among the flowers, a laugh that came so 
 oft with the sunlight, but which may never 
 be heard again. 
 
 What a cloud, dark and unpropitious, settled 
 already over this once happy home ! misfor 
 tunes had come there together ; and even now 
 many of the pious were free to remark that it 
 was a judgment "just what might have been 
 expected from unbelief!" But then it was 
 one more calamitous to the believing wife 
 than to the unbelieving husband ; if the trial 
 was sore to him, his reason was not withered, 
 he was not doomed to be the living sepulchre 
 for a " dead soul." O orthodoxy ! how un 
 charitable are thy impulses ! 
 
 The patience and manly fortitude of Mr. 
 Manners surprised Mr. Capel. He could see 
 that his friend was cut to the quick, yet bore 
 all most heroically. Now tenderly moistening 
 the parched lip, or cooling the fevered brow 
 of his prostrate child ; now whispering hope 
 and encouragement to his daughter, even 
 when hope could scarcely find a resting-place 
 in his own heart ; and then trying to cheer up 
 Hannah, whose generous nature was almost 
 overcome. Her mental resources were insuf 
 ficient under the stroke ; the oft luminous 
 pages of Bunyan were now dark and depress 
 ing. Mr. Manners went about quietly, doing 
 every thing in his power to heal the wounds 
 of others, when it was but too apparent that 
 the dart had entered deeply into his own 
 bosom ; and, though forced to taste of the bit 
 ter cup that fate had presented, yet, with great 
 consideration for the feelings of Hannah, and 
 of some religious friends who called from time 
 to time, he never alluded to the particular 
 cause of his wife's affliction, and never uttered 
 a reproachful word. 
 
 Mr. Capel, however, was satisfied that that 
 affliction did not arise from any latent disor 
 der of the mind, or from any inherited tenden 
 cy to aberration ; it was the effect of unnatu 
 ral religious excitement upon a too sensitive 
 organization, inducing a faith in dreams and 
 visions, and gradually producing some pleas 
 ing hallucination that lingered and was nour 
 ished, and became a reality, and which then 
 shaped itself into a monster, a usurper, which 
 overpowered reason and reigned supreme 
 in mental devastation. It has been the 
 fate of ten thousand others. Alas! what 
 intellects have been crushed and ruined 
 beneath the gilded car of a pompous and 
 imperious superstition. How many enthu 
 siasts have been broken under the ponde 
 rous wheel of the Christian Juggernaut ; and 
 the useless and maddening pageant still 
 
 moves on, amid the groans of victims and the 
 hosannahs of priests. 
 
 The unwearied Hannah still watched by 
 the side of William ; his sister, who was much 
 fatigued, tried to snatch a little rest in dozing 
 upon a sofa near by, and he had lain compara 
 tively quiet for some minutes listening to the 
 heavy rain which now pattered against the 
 window-panes. 
 
 " Hannah," said he, in a very faint voice, 
 " why doesn't ma come here ? I want her now 
 to tell me of the bright angels she used to 
 dream so often about, I want her now to let 
 me see them ; she often told me how beauti 
 ful they were, and that I should know them, 
 and they know me ; I wish I could see them 
 to-day yes, to-day." 
 
 Hannah leant over his pillow to catch every 
 word; she was painfully strut k with the 
 change in his manner and appearance, and her 
 heart beat quickly with foreboding pulsations. 
 
 " Your ma is tired, darling, and is resting, 
 like Miss Mary. She will soon be here, I 
 hope ; but she is tired now, very tired." * 
 
 " Poor ma ! tired and asleep. I am tired 
 too very tired and weary and must soon 
 sleep. 1 would like to have her come soon 
 and kiss me, and tell me about the angels 
 again ; for I am tired, and may sleep a long, 
 long time." 
 
 She listened to his failing voice, and made 
 no reply ; she could not then speak, but one of 
 her big tears fell upon his pale cheek. 
 
 By an effort, he raised his little thin hand, 
 and let it rest upon her dark hair ; he looked 
 at her for a moment, and then said, " Poor, 
 poor Hannah!" 
 
 " O my darling child ! my darling 
 child ! I've prayed for you, but now I wish 
 my heart would break," she sobbed in a low 
 voice. These were the only words to which 
 she could give utterance, as the tears coursed 
 down her cheeks ; and she pressed the small 
 hand to her lips as if she never intended to 
 let it go again. 
 
 He looked intently at her for some time in si- 
 ^nce, a look such as one of her blest ideala 
 might have given to sorrowing humanity, 
 and she in turn tried to restrain her tears and 
 seem cheerful. 
 
 " Why do you cry, poor Hannah ? don't cry 
 for me ! you know we must all sleep. Ma 
 often told us that we should all sleep, and 
 awake again at the resurrection what is the 
 resurrection ?" 
 
 ' The resurrection, dear," said she, after some 
 hesitation, " is when we get up to go to 
 heaven, after we die." 
 
 " Up from where from sleep ?" 
 
 ' Up from our graves ! we shall all get up 
 at the last day." 
 
 ' From our graves from our graves," he 
 repeated the words slowly, and then pondered 
 over their solemn meaning. 
 
 ' Will every body get up to go to hea* 
 ven ?" 
 
 ' I hope so, dear," said she, trying to evade 
 a direct answer ; " Oh ! how I wish it was to 
 morrow ! all to be together again." 
 
 He remained for a time in deep thought, 
 during which he watched the wearied face oi 
 her who was now to him a* a mother, and
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 127 
 
 then said to her in a whisper, "Toll ma to 
 come soon very soon, I shall sleep to-night ; 
 but I must sleep again to-morrow, yes, to-mor 
 row. Hannah, stay near me until then, and 
 I will como back at the resurrection." 
 
 There was a deep silence after this pro-, 
 phetic warning, and Hannah had to leave the 
 room to stifle the terrible grief which tried to 
 find utterance. 
 
 She soon heard his feeble voice again, and 
 when she bent down low to catch his words, 
 he whispered : 
 
 " Won't you bring me Flounce ? I must see 
 poor Flounce to-day. Do, do let me see him 
 again." 
 
 Presently the affectionate animal followed 
 Hannah into the darkened room : his head 
 hung down, as if he anticipated a last leave- 
 taking. A chair was drawn close to the bed ; 
 he sat upon it, and, suppressing every joyful 
 demonstration, looked mournfully into the 
 large eyes of his young master, gently licking 
 the hand that was now slowly extended to 
 ward him. The dog's subdued manner 
 touched the tender feelings of the boy ; he 
 would have wept, but the fountain of his tears 
 was forever sealed. 
 
 Flounce left the room with reluctance, 
 and after his removal he lay the remainder of 
 the day outside in the wet grass, under the 
 rain in the lonely garden, looking up at the 
 curtained window of William's room and 
 whining piteously. 
 
 It was the evening of the next day ; the sun 
 was setting in glorious effulgence. A great 
 white cloud, like a mountain of light, was 
 moving slowly onward toward the east ; the 
 red and golden beams which now rested upon 
 it made it appear as if it were the throne of a 
 divinity ; and to the imagination it might have 
 been made the foundation for any sublime 
 aerial structure. The robin's lone farewell- 
 notes were heard in the garden ; but all else 
 was still, not more still, however, than the 
 living and dying who looked through the 
 open window upon the beautiful mellow light 
 of eve slowly fading away in the western 
 sky. 
 
 At William's request, his bed was moved 
 so that he could look out through the win 
 dow and take Ids last view of earth ; and as 
 his wan face was turned toward the sunset, the 
 rays that fell around it only served to show 
 more plainly the death-shadows that were al 
 ready creeping in and resting upon his fea 
 tures shadows that no morning light would 
 ever more dispel. Hannah looked awe 
 struck ; it seemed then to her as if the very 
 portals of heaven were opened to receive the 
 pure spirit of a departing pilgrim. But Mary, 
 pale and worn, could not turn her head away 
 from her brother ; now burying her face in 
 his pillow, now pressing her lips upon his cold 
 brehead that was already damp with the dew 
 of death ; she saw the nickering of the little 
 lamp, and would watch until it was blown out 
 forever. 
 
 Mr. Capel and Mr. Mannors stood silently 
 by ; to one it was an hour of the darkest trial^ 
 and the heavy bursting sighs of that father's 
 breast could alone truly tell how the deep 
 fountain of his affection was overflowing ; and 
 
 Mr. Capel's eyes were suffused, as if he were 
 waiting by the side of a dying In-other ; it was 
 a death-scene which should never leave his 
 memory. 
 
 " Pop," said the dying boy, raising his fee 
 ble voice, and looking eagerly upward at the 
 magnificent sun-lit cloud. " Pop, that is the 
 summer-land, and ma is there ; oh ! I see her 
 among such a crowd of angels ! She is now 
 beckoning to me see, Hunnah, ma is wait 
 ing ! how beautifvil she looks ! but I'm getting 
 very cold ; won't you sing again for me, Han 
 nah ? I am sleepy I must soon sleep sing for 
 me now." 
 
 Poor Hannah struggled to comply with his 
 last request to her, and, while all were silent 
 ly weeping, she sung in a low, broken voice 
 a verse from one of his mother's favorite 
 hymns 
 
 When she had sung thus far, he made an 
 attempt to raise himself from the pillow, but 
 his head fell back powerless ; it was a last ef 
 fort of his tender nature to offer all an em 
 brace ; he could but just whisper, " Kiss me, 
 pa ; kiss me, Hannah ; kiss me, Pop ; I am get 
 ting very tired, and must now sleep ; but I 
 will come back again with ma at the resurrec 
 tion good night 1" 
 
 The evening sun j cist then disappeared ; the 
 great cloud stood alone in the ruddy sky, and 
 William closed his eyes in that last sleep, and 
 went off to the real or fancied summerland. 
 
 Days, dreary days, had passed since the fresh 
 mound was raised in Hampstead churchyard, 
 and fresh flowers had been almost daily scat 
 tered upon the little grave by a sister's hand. 
 In the quiet evenings, when Hannah felt lone 
 ly, she would go and sit by the head-stone in 
 the cemetery and watch the western sky, as if 
 expecting some recognition from him who 
 had departed ; but no signal appeared ; no token 
 ever came ; no voice from across the lone sea 
 ever reached her ear ; no secret was revealed ; 
 but the future to her, as well as to many 
 others still kept its own solemn mystery. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 ONE month after the sad scene witnessed 
 by Mr. Capel in the house of his afflicted 
 friend, he received a peremptory note from 
 the Rev. James Baker, requesting his attend 
 ance at the quarterly meeting, to commence 
 on the following Saturday in the Hampstead 
 Methodist church. It had been mooted about 
 for some time that Mr. Capel was strangely 
 indifferent and lukewarm in liia religious 
 duties ; that his ministrations were irregular , 
 and that his manner indicated he had no heart 
 in the " work." Some said that he was but a 
 mere formalist ; others that he was foppish ; 
 others that he was popish ; and many asserted 
 that he was assuming clerical airs more like a 
 high-churchman than comporting himself as 
 an humble preacher of the Uospel ; and know-
 
 128 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 ing ones were of opinion tliat lie was prepar 
 ing to follow other high-minded preachers, 
 and desert the " old Wesleyan ship." to ob 
 tain a curacy in the state church, and swell 
 out as a Church of England minister. There 
 were a few, however, who had mis-givinge as 
 to the true cause of his apathy ; and confi 
 dential whispers to this etiect were poured 
 into the ear of the Rev. James Baker, super 
 intendent of the circuit. 
 
 So far, indeed, from being vainglorious, Mr. 
 Capel had made many friends on the circuit 
 by his unassuming disposition, and several 
 here and there stood up in his defense. The 
 young lady members in particular were 
 generally of opinion that no such servant of 
 f.iod had ever be I ore appeared among them ; 
 and one sanctified spinster, of over thirty-five 
 summers, said she would be willing to fight 
 her way in his behalf through a whole con 
 ference of preachers, even were they as stony 
 hearted as the stern senior preacher of Hamp- 
 etead. The ladies generally flocked in large 
 numbers to hear the calm gospel expositions 
 of Mr. Capel, and the female membership of 
 the church greatly increased under his 
 " word." Although he avoided every exciting 
 theme, there were as many female " conver 
 sions " as if he had been one of the Boanerges 
 class ; and he had consequently " seals to his 
 ministry " which might not have followed 
 from the preaching even of a much older 
 man one who was more matured in "divine 
 things" such as the superintendent himself. 
 
 Whether the Rev. Mr. Baker grew a little 
 jealous of his younger brother on this parti 
 cular account can, not be fairly asserted. He 
 might have had good methodistic reasons for 
 the course he was about to pursue. Mr. 
 Capel kept aloof, and had not called at the 
 parsonage for nearly a month ; and when he 
 did call, hurried away, giving no satisfactory 
 statement of the affaire on the circuit. It 
 was well known among the brethren that he 
 never encouraged revival meetings ; and when 
 those anxious for a "special outpouring" 
 made efforts to awaken slumbering sinners, 
 he always managed to be absent, and often 
 hinted that he would prefer to have every 
 thing done " decently and in order." But it 
 was not until after the sad derangement of 
 Mrs. Mannors that he spoke out plainly. 
 Sympathizing with her family, he felt indig 
 nant that such a sad result one of many 
 should follow from the persistency of Method 
 ism in religious excitements, and he had the 
 temerity to state that revivals were but nur 
 series for lusiacy. Besides this, it was well 
 known that he spoke of Mr. Mannors as a per 
 son whose example, in several respects, might 
 be. followed advantageously by many gospel 
 ministers, and he was ever ready to defend 
 his character from the unscrupulous attacks 
 so commonly made by the pious or orthodox 
 against unbelievers; and certain expressions 
 made from time to time conveying his doubt 
 of eternal punishment alarmed not a few of 
 the more zealous, whose Methodistic instincts 
 led them to reverence the Bible, as much for 
 its consignment of the wicked to eternal tor 
 ments as for its perpetuity of glorious re- 
 wurdc> to tin: faithful. 
 
 Mr. Capel had made preparations to leave 
 Hampstead Cottage after the death of Wil 
 liam ; he had several reasons for so doing. 
 He had been solicited by Mrs. Mannors to 
 reside in her family, in order to accomplish a 
 purpose which now could never be reached ; 
 his own religioxis views had undergone a com 
 plete change ; his mission was therefore use 
 less ; and he felt that if it was proper to 
 change his place of residence, it was much 
 more so his duty to break oft' all connections 
 with a society whose teachings he had ceased 
 to believe. Yet, dreading the obloquy which 
 was almost certain to follow a formal recanta 
 tion, he was desirous of withdrawing gradual 
 ly from Methodist membership, and he trust- 
 e'd that some opportunity would be afforded to 
 make his exit unnoticed. He could not con 
 sistently teach a doctrine which he did not 
 believe ; for over a mouth he had neither been 
 seen nor heard at any religious service it 
 was public talk and the anomalous position 
 he occupied made him very unhappy, and 
 rendered it necessary for him to do something 
 to release himself from a bondage which was 
 so irksome. 
 
 He often met his friend, Father Tom Mc- 
 Glinn, often traveled with him whole days, 
 had had long and interesting conversations 
 on the subject of religion ; and he found that 
 his friend in Romish orders a veritable priest 
 of the " Mother Church " was just " as much 
 in the mud as he was in the mire ;" that both 
 were sliding or rather had slidden from 
 doubt to unbelief; both reputed ministers of 
 the Gospel, though of widely different and 
 hostile sects, were each anxious to be free 
 from the fetters of a religion which investiga 
 tion had shown to be the more modern form 
 of an ancient superstition ; and both alike 
 dreading the outcry which would be made 
 upon their open defection, were consequently 
 more and more in sympathy. 
 
 Father McGlinn, after all, thought it best, 
 that his friend should answer the summons, 
 and appear in person at the quarterly meet 
 ing ; and Mr. Mannors, who would not hoar 
 of Mr. Capel's change of residence, also advised 
 him to go boldly and hear every accusation, 
 There might be invidious charges, which 
 it would be necessary to disprove. The ortho 
 dox seldom believe that religious doubts or 
 openly avowed skepticism can arise from any 
 pure motive any abstract love of truth ; or 
 that any man can desire to be raided above e 
 class of servile worshipers of any myth or 
 creed but from a desire for sensual indul 
 gence, an eagerness to be rid of the whole 
 some restraints of religion. Mr. Mannors 
 therefore strongly urged that Mr. Baker 
 should be met on his own ground ; and that 
 while Mr. Capel made such acknowledgments 
 respecting religion as he thought proper, ho 
 should demand proof, or rebut charges against 
 his character, upon which solely they might, 
 and no doubt would try, to base a motion for 
 his expulsion. 
 
 The Rev. James Baker, in the mean time, 
 was very industriously circulating his opinion 
 of Mr. Capel throughout various parts of the 
 circuit. He well knew where he could dis 
 cover pliant aids for uis purpose, and he
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 129 
 
 found them. He was exceedingly bitter in 
 his denunciation of ministerial unfaithfulness, 
 and ho succeeded in depicting the conduct of 
 the junior preacher as deserving the impeach 
 ment of the " church of God." lie insisted 
 that, the " servants of the Lord " were bound 
 to make the punishment of such "TOSS perfidy 
 a terror to evil-doers; and for days, while 
 some of the young ladies dared to sympathize, 
 the select " people of the Lord " were preparing 
 to give an exhibition of Christian forbearance 
 and magnanimity. 
 
 The dreaded Saturday came. The church 
 was filled ; and although many of the brethren 
 iiad to leave their daily toil, they did leave it, 
 to be present on such an occasion of impor 
 tance. The ladies assembled in as great 
 numbers as if there were to be a special revi 
 val, or a missionary meeting, or a public rais 
 ing of some dead Lazarus. Local preachers, 
 church stewards, and other official members 
 were well represented ; and besides Mr. Baker, 
 there were three other preachers, among 
 whom was the old superannuated itinerant, 
 who had held forth in such a lively discourse 
 at the late protracted meeting. 
 
 Mr. Baker, as superintendent of the circuit, 
 preached a doleful, prosy sermon, in which 
 ministerial backsliding was represented as one 
 of the basest crimes against the church ; and 
 he simulated great regret at being compelled, 
 much against his will, but as a matter of 
 duty, to bring serious charges against a bro 
 ther an erring brother for whom he once 
 had such a strong and deep affection. He 
 assured his brethren that this duty was most 
 painful ; but the cause of the Lord should not 
 be influenced by our human feelings the 
 right eye should be plucked out or the right 
 hand cut off, should dire necessity require 
 the sacrifice. 
 
 Mr. Capel did not make his appearance until 
 after these preliminary services were over. 
 The eyes of many had wandered over the 
 church, and much surprise was manifested 
 when he could not be seen. Mr. Baker him 
 self felt then like an Abraham without an 
 Isaac ; the altar was raise:!, he held out the 
 shining blade ready for the sacrifice ; he 
 wanted to make an atonement, but no victim 
 appeared. He began to feel as uncomfortable 
 as a tiger robbed of his prey, when Mr. Capel 
 was seen walking slowly up the aisle, the 
 objector prominent interest to all ; and it was 
 evident that he was somewhat nervous under 
 the concentrated gaze of so many firm be 
 lievers. 
 
 He took his place quietly, however, and 
 scanned the complacent faces of the sanctified 
 row of church officials ; not one of whom, in 
 this trying hour, ventured to give him even a 
 nod of friendly recognition. There was a 
 flutter am:>ng the ladies, and one \ articular 
 spinster applied her handkerchief very fre 
 quently, and looked quite woe-bfgone. 
 
 After some formalities, there was a great 
 hush, when Mr. Baker stood before the breth- 
 
 Iren as an accuser. He reiterated that it 
 was painful to him as a minister of the Gos 
 pel, and it was with much reluctance that he 
 was obliged to call their attention to certain 
 charges which he felt it his bounden duty to 
 
 prefer against brother Henry Capel he would 
 still call him brother the junior preacher un 
 der his superintendency. Indeed, one might im 
 agine that at this particular time the worthy 
 man had found difficulty in giving utterance 
 to his words ; he was very much affected, 
 very, and the faces of the official brethren 
 around were lengthened into the gloomiest 
 solemnity. 
 
 Having adjusted his spectacles, he opened a 
 paper, and read out the charges. 
 
 " 1st. That he, Henry Capel, as junior prea 
 cher, has been negligent in his duties and 
 irregular in his appointments. 
 
 " 3d. That he has sneered at and reviled the 
 practice, discipline, and teaching of our church 
 and founder, and has spoken contemptuously 
 of our holy religion. 
 
 " 3d. That his private acts and his general 
 conduct and morality have been discreditable 
 to himself, and a reproach to the people of 
 God " 
 
 With respect to the first charge, Mr. Baker 
 said, it was well known that for a long timo 
 Mr. Capel had not kept his appointments. 
 People attended at the regular time men 
 tioned on the " plan," but no preacher came ; 
 some frivolous excuse having been given for 
 non-attendance. Even when he did preach, it 
 was but a mere lecture in favor of a cold, for 
 mal morality ; not a stirring appeal to induce 
 sinners to flee from the wrath to come. 
 
 He w r as then about to furnish evidence in 
 proof, when Mr. Capel said that, for several 
 reasons which he need not mention, his ap 
 pointments were not regularly kept ; he ad 
 mitted the correctness of the charge, and 
 regretted that he had caused the members any 
 inconvenience. Any address or "lecture" 
 which he had given was an effort to improve 
 his hearers morally and intellectually ; he had 
 thought it best to appeal to the reason instead 
 of to the feelings. 
 
 Mr. Baker said that the next charge was 
 far more serious. He, Mr. Capel, on several 
 occasions privately, he admitted, but yet not 
 less invidiously had stated that God's Holy 
 Bible was false and contradictory in several 
 places. False in its history and science ; false 
 and even barbarous in its general teachings 
 and tendency ; false in its idea of a Supreme 
 Being. Its prophecies were false, its mira 
 cles untrue, and that many parts of that 
 blessed book were unfit to be read. " I can 
 not, I dare not, my friends," said the speaker, 
 much excited, " repeat the horrid blasphemies 
 to which he has given utterance. The offense 
 is of such a nature as not only sufficient to 
 exclude any man from our confidence to place 
 him beyond the pale of moral society but 
 also to subject him to the pains and penalties 
 wisely and properly provided against blas 
 phemy by the laws of this realm. my 
 friends ! I feel a dreadful responsibility for hav 
 ing permitted that man that guilty, deceitful 
 man to go about among our people and be 
 tray us, while holding such sentiments." 
 
 The reverend gentleman grew very indig 
 nant ; his assumed regret and forbearance dis 
 appeared, and he scowled upon the accused 
 with a ferocity of expression which might hav 
 made even his pious brother in the ministry,
 
 180 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 Doctor Buster, feel a little nervous. Yet Mr. 
 Capel sat there unintimidated ; lie never flinch 
 ed beneath the, dark fiery eye that was now 
 turned upon him : but. it was particularly for 
 tunate for him, at the time, that " brother " Ba 
 ker had not full power to impose the aforesaid 
 " pains and penalties so wisely provided by 
 law." The rack or the thumb-screw, so neces 
 sary in other days for the propagation of one 
 form of Christianity, might not then have been 
 looked upon with such holy horror were this 
 (servant of God only permitted to apply them in 
 defense of the " book of books." 
 
 Brother Wesley Jacobs and others of the 
 elect were grieved in spirit, groaned audibly, 
 and shuddered to find themselves in such 
 proximhy to an actual reviler of the Gospel ; 
 it was dreadful ; and many of the faithful 
 around raised their pious eyes toward the 
 ceiling, and thanked God that they had not 
 hearts of unbelief. Nearly all looked upon 
 the junior preacher as one who had fallen 
 miserably fallen from a high estate ; yes, one 
 whose condemnation was already sealed. 
 Were he a criminal a felon before a judicial 
 bar there would have been hope, pity, and 
 sympathy, extended toward him ; but for an 
 awful unbeliever did not the word say, " Let 
 him be accursed " ? 
 
 Besides some of the ladies whose tender feel 
 ings were yet with the accused, " old Father 
 White " as the superannuated preacher was 
 familiarly called looked with compassion 
 upon the young man, and yearned for his 
 soul as well as for his restoration. .Father 
 White was loved for his kind, human impul 
 ses ; the natural man was not yet entirely 
 absorbed in the spiritual. He knew there 
 was one text which said, " But though we, 
 or an angel from heaven, preach any other 
 gospel unto you than that which we have 
 preached unto you, let him be accursed ;" and 
 another, "If there come any unto you and 
 bring not this doctrine, receive him not 
 into your house, neither bid him Godspeed ;" 
 still, under the influence of human frailty, he 
 preferred the text which said, " Judge not, 
 and ye shall not be judged ; condemn not, 
 and ye shall not be condemned ; forgive, and 
 ye shall be forgiveu." And now, could he get 
 his erring brother or rather his erring son 
 then and there to make an open acknowledg 
 ment of his sin to accept the divine word 
 before all, it would bring confusion upon skep 
 tics, and redound to the glory of the Gospel. 
 
 In natural dispositions, there was a great 
 difference between the old superannuated 
 preacher, Father White, and the Rev. James 
 Baker, the superintendent. The influence of 
 the spirit which would induce one to restore a 
 doubting Thomas would actuate the other to 
 cut him off root and branch. There was the 
 mild impulse of humanity on the one side 
 and the stern, unrelenting spirit of orthodoxy 
 on the other. 
 
 " My son my brother," said the old 
 
 E readier, " do you not see how greatly you 
 ave sinned in bringing discredit upon the 
 Gospel of our Lord ? The guilt is greater on 
 your part, having been a lal>orer in the vine 
 yard. God lucks upon unbelief, that hideous 
 monster of the human heart, as involving 
 
 the rejection of the Holy Spirit a sin of such 
 magnitude as to close the ear of heavenly 
 mercy to all future appeals, and seal the of 
 fender to the doom of eternal perdition. 
 
 " The true Christian can not dare not look 
 upon the rejection of the Gospel in any more 
 favorable light. My brother, what saith the 
 Scripture Matt. 12 : 81, 32, ' I say unto you, 
 all manner of sin and blasphemy shall be for 
 given unto men ; but the blasphemy against 
 the Holy Ghost shall 'not be forgiven unto men. 
 And whosoever speaketh a word against the 
 Son of Man, it shall be forgiven him; but 
 whosoever speaketh against the Holy Ghost, 
 it sJiall not be forgiven him neither in this 
 world, neither in the world to come.' 
 
 " That is, ' all manner of sin ' crimes of the 
 deepest die ingratitude, murder, any thing 
 may be forgiven but that woeful offense 
 against the Holy Spirit against high hea 
 ven shall not, can not be forgiven, dreadful 
 to contemplate ! O my brother ! I feel that 
 the Spirit of God still strives with you, and 
 that you are not as yet left to a reprobate 
 heart, and cut off forever. Haste ! hesitate no 
 longer ! He who willfully rejects the divine 
 word rejects the spirit of grace, and insures 
 his own condemnation. Mark your danger ! 
 you once received the Gospel, dare you now 
 refuse it ? Has not our Master said, ' No 
 man having put his hand to the plow, and 
 looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God.' 
 And Paul says, in Heb. 5, ' It is impossible for 
 those who were once enlightened, and have 
 tasted of the heavenly gift, if they shall fall 
 away, to renew them again unto repentance ; 
 seeing they crucify to themselves the Son of 
 God afresh, and put him to an open shame.' 
 ' If we sin willfully after that we have received 
 the knowledge of the truth, there remaineth 
 no more sacrifice for sins ; but a certain fear 
 ful looking for of judgment and fiery indigna 
 tion, which shall devour the adversaries.' 
 
 " These extracts from the word of God, my 
 brother, ought to make you start in your 
 sleep ! Be not attracted and deceived by the 
 world ; the transitory things of time and 
 sense are comparatively unworthy of our 
 notice. Cling to divine revelation it givee 
 
 S)u an assurance of a glorious hereafter ! 
 ow insignificant are the rulers or great men 
 of the earth, when compared with the illus 
 trious characters portrayed in the Holy Bible ! 
 Who can compare with David the sweet 
 Psalmist of the Old Testament ; or with Paul, 
 the great apostle, of the New ? Alas ! what 
 would the world be without the Bible? 
 Where should we find our morality where 
 our civilization ? Take away the Bible, and 
 the world would be a chaos ! Uproot our 
 divine religion, and what can you give in its 
 place ?" 
 
 The old preacher again tenderly pleaded, 
 and again repeated his admonitions. He 
 would have cheerfully given up his few re 
 maining years, and nave died to save his 
 erring brother ; and when he sat down, 
 though Mr. Baker and others, " steadfast in 
 the Lord," remained stern and immovable 
 yet the greater number under his voice and 
 exhortation were softened even to tears.
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 1G1 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 Mr. Capel got up to speak, there 
 was almost perfect silence ; all were anxious 
 to hear what he had to say in reply to the 
 serious charges of the superintendent, and 
 many were of opinion that the plea so feel 
 ingly made by Father White had turned the 
 scale in favor of the accused ; that he would 
 most probably acknowledge his error, and sub 
 mit to a reproof. Mr. Baker himself seemed 
 rather disconcerted ; he did not approve of 
 tampering with an enemy ; he would not have 
 taken a single step toward the reclamation of 
 a skeptic by argument. Unbelief to him was 
 a crime that should be punished. He would 
 rather follow the example of a class of in 
 quisitors, who, in dealing with certain peni 
 tents, first granted absolution, but gave the 
 body to the flames, lest the soul should be en 
 dangered by a relapse into heresy.* As it was, 
 he neither wanted penitence nor pardon ; he 
 had the offender in his clutches let the law 
 take its course. 
 
 " I can not but feel," said Mr. Capel, " that 
 the consideration extended toward me by the 
 Rev. Mr. White demands my most heartfelt 
 thanks. Viewing the matter from his stand 
 point, I have committed a most grievous of 
 fense against religion against the church of 
 which I was once a member, but to which I 
 can never more claim to belong. I would 
 fain have his good opinion ; and, for his sake, 
 and the sake of many others, I wish we could 
 believe alike I fear it is now impossible ; but 
 we all know by experience that that which 
 at one period of our lives might have been 
 estimated as true and beautiful, at a subse 
 quent period may cease to possess that virtue 
 and quality. What appears to be truth to 
 one may be error to another ; and, as our con 
 victions in this respect are not voluntary, but 
 are, or rather ought to be, the result of a men 
 tal process, this result should be accepted, no 
 matter how painful to our own feelings or to 
 the feelings of another. 
 
 " The second charge brought against me by 
 the Rev. Mr. Baker is, in the main, correct ; 
 but I object to the terms which he lias used. 
 I have never ' sneered at ' or ' reviled ' any 
 thing religious, nor have I spoken ' contempt 
 uously ' of the founder of Methodism, or of 
 any Christian doctrine. I admit that, for a 
 long period, I had serious doubts long rank 
 ling privately in my own bosom ; these I tried, 
 with all my power, to suppress ; and if pray 
 ers or tears could have removed them, they 
 would not have remained. If I ever ventured 
 t;> mention them to any person, it was to some 
 one whom I considered more experienced than 
 I was myself. Upon my appointment to this 
 circuit, I was surprised to find that many 
 members of the church generally the more 
 studious and thoughtful were troubled with 
 nearly the same doubts which agitated my 
 wn mind, and sought occasionally to confer 
 ith me for an explanation." 
 
 *The inquisitors probably took their cue from St. 
 Paul 1 Cor. 5:5," To deliver such a one unto Sal an 
 for the destruction of the flesh, that the spirit may be 
 aved in the day of the Lord Jesus." 
 
 " 'Tis false ! 'tis false ! Name them let us 
 know them !" cried Mr. Baker, jumping up, 
 dark and angry ; " let us have their names, 
 and let them answer for themselves if they 
 are present. 'Tis false !" he wildly reiterated, 
 striking the palm of his hand fiercely. " No 
 man, woman, or child on the circuit ever had 
 doubts until you brought them. 1 say again, 
 j 'tis false !" 
 
 Some of the official members were becom 
 ing agitated, and others rocked impatiently in 
 t their seats, as if anxious for the word of com 
 mand to " go in " and defend the faith ; and 
 were it not for the calm, tolerant bearing of 
 good Father White, there might have been a 
 scene worthy of a notice in the next morning 
 paper. 
 
 " Friends," said he mildly, " I pray let 
 there be no interruption. Let us hear Mr. 
 j Capel 'a reply to the charges ; let him speak 
 freely, and if what he says is not sufficient t > 
 exculpate him, the ohurch can so express it." 
 
 Mr. Capel took no notice, however, of the 
 | interruption. He said, if permitted, he would 
 give a simple statement of his views, and if 
 lie could be proved to be in error, he would 
 cheerfully submit to their decision. Having, 
 as he said, entertained serious doubts, he 
 thought it his duty, as one on probation for 
 the ministry, to inquire into the alleged er 
 rors, discrepancies, and contradictions said to 
 | have been discovered throughout the Bible, 
 with a view of being better able to speak in 
 its defense and refute the arguments of 
 skeptics. In so doing, he had read the most 
 distinguished authors for and against the 
 Bible ; he conceived that he could form no 
 just conclusions by merely reading one side ; 
 that if the Bible were perfect truth, as its up 
 holders asserted, no strictness of investigation 
 could possibly affect its paramount claim. 
 Contrary to his expectations, however, that 
 investigation had but still further shaken his 
 faith, and satisfied him that his previous 
 doubts were but too well founded. He felt 
 that this was a delicate subject to mention in 
 a Methodist church ; but, as his motives had 
 been impugned, he thought it but proper to 
 give the reasons for his unbelief. 
 
 "We want to hear none of your reasons. I 
 dare say your so - called investigation was 
 more confined to Tom Paine than it was to 
 Paley ; no doubt your distinguished friend, 
 Mannors, gave you important assistance in 
 the research." 
 
 " Patience, brother Baker," said Mr. White. 
 " We should hear him out like Christian men 
 like men who are not afraid of the rock on 
 which "they stand." 
 
 " I know," continued Mr. Capel, "how 
 deeply ministers and members of the church 
 must feel when defects and inconsistencies are 
 said to have been discovered in a book which 
 they have been taught to believe ' inspired ;' 
 I know personally the strength of such prej u- 
 dices, and I know how positive the precepts 
 of that book are against unbelief. But when 
 a claim is made to infallibility, such precepts 
 should not prevent investigation. 
 
 " If you shut out inquiry, distrust is sure to 
 enter. I. do not wish to particularize in this 
 place, or to go into details as to what parts in
 
 132 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 the Bible I have found objectionable. I do not 
 wish to utter any thing which might cause a 
 moment's pain .to any one present, but I 
 wish to be permitted to give the reasons why 
 I dissent from what has just been so kindly 
 expressed by one for whom. I shall ever enter 
 tain a high regard. 
 
 " Our reverend father has drawn a comparison 
 between the great men and rulers of the earth, 
 and two of the principal characters of Scrip 
 ture, DAVID and PAUL the psalmist and the 
 great apostle. For centuries the pious have 
 given these personages a prominent place in 
 the history of the Bible have lauded their 
 many and noble virtues, and recommended 
 them as distinguished patterns to all mankind. 
 David, in particular, has been called ' a man 
 after God's own heart ' for his reputed excel 
 lencies and obedience to the divine will. The 
 Bible itself goes far to establish this reputa 
 tion ; for it says that, ' David did that which 
 was right in the eyes of the Lord, and turned 
 not aside from any thing that was command 
 ed him all the days of his life, save only in 
 the matter of Uriah the Hittite.' It would be 
 difficult to find a greater eulogy within the 
 limits of that book. In reading this commend 
 ation, a person would think that David was 
 one of the most estimable that ever lived. I 
 can not believe so. I judge him by the records 
 of the same Bible ; and I have often thought 
 that there must have been one of the many 
 Bible interpolations, made to express a grave 
 error a blasphemy in saying that David 
 could ever be ' a man after God's own heart.' 
 Who would choose a cruel, blood-thirsty, ra 
 pacious man a deliberate murderer to be his 
 bosom friend ? Let us glance at the history of 
 David. 
 
 " His first principal act was the slaying of 
 Goliath, whose head he afterward cut oft'. 
 Anxious to obtain Michal, the king's daugh 
 ter, for his wife, Saul, it is said, told David 
 that if he brought him the foreskins of one 
 hundred Philistines, he should have her. 
 David, who had been made a ' captain over a 
 thousand,' thereupon went with his men and 
 slaughtered ' of tlie Philistines two hundred 
 men,' one hundred more than was required ; 
 and he ' brought their foreskins and gave 
 them in full tale, to the king, that he might 
 be the king's son-in-law.' David, by this 
 means, succeeded in getting his first wife. It 
 strikes me that it was a most barbarous mode ; 
 no way inferior to the way in which brutal 
 ized savages purchased similar favors with 
 the scalps of their enemies. Again, in a war, 
 he ' went out and fought with the Philistines, 
 and slew them with great slaughter.' To 
 screen himself from the anger of Saul, he 
 prevailed upon Jonathan to tell the king a 
 falsehood. After he had fled from Saul, he told 
 a lie to Ahimelech, the priest, as to the rea 
 son for his departure. 
 
 " \Vhenhe went to Achish, the king of Gath, 
 being ' sore afraid ' ' he changed his beha 
 vior before them and feigned himself mad, and 
 scrabbled on the doors of the gate, and let his 
 spittle fall down upon his beard.' Having es 
 caped to a cave, he again became a captain over 
 about six hundred freebooters men who were 
 ' in distress,' ' in debt,' and 'discontented ' rea 
 
 dy for any enterprise ; and the Lord, having 
 delivered the Philistines into his hand, ha 
 brought away their cattle, and again ' smote 
 them with a great slaughter.' Alter various 
 adventures, David, on being refused a favor 
 by Nalial, a herdsman, ' girded on his sword,' 
 and went out with his men for the purpose of 
 destroying him and his helpers. The oath he 
 swore to this effect is too indelicate to men 
 tion. On his way, he was met by Abigail, 
 Nabal's wife ' a woman of a beautiful coun 
 tenance.' She brought presents to David, and 
 entreated him to spare her husband, and his 
 wrath was appeased. Ten days after her re 
 turn, the Lord, it is said, ' smote Nabal that he 
 died ; ' and when David heard it, he sent and 
 took Abigail to wife Michal, his first wife, 
 having been taken from him by Saul and at 
 the same -time he took another woman to wife, 
 named Ahinoam. 
 
 "Were it not, therefore, for the intercession of 
 Nabal's wife, David would have committed a 
 cruel outrage, simply because he was chur 
 lishly refused a favor by Nabal. 
 
 " Dreading the enmity of Saul, David, with 
 his wives and his six hundred adventurers, 
 fled to the land of the Philistines, and again 
 sought the protection of Achish, king of 
 Gath. Not desiring to dwell in the royal 
 city, he prevailed, upon the king to give him 
 ' a place in some town in the country.' Achish 
 kindly gave him Ziglag ; and, while dwelling 
 there in safety from Saul, he violated the 
 rights of hospitality ; and, like a brigand, 
 with his six hundred privately made incur 
 sions into certain nations, even allies of his pro 
 tector. ' He smote the land, and left neither 
 man nor woman alive ; and took away the 
 sheep, and the oxen, and the asses, and the 
 camels, and the apparel.' When questioned 
 by Achish as to his inroads, he deceived the 
 king, by stating that he had been against 
 other people hostile to him ; and to support 
 the untruth, he cut off every living being 
 whom he had taken. The text says, ' And 
 David saved neither man nor ^ooman nlice, to 
 bring tidings to Gath, saying, lest they should 
 tell on us.' Such wanton and unprovoked 
 slaughter to hide deception was the extreme 
 of human depravity. 
 
 " He again went to the king and gave evi 
 dence of his want of patriotism, by basely 
 proposing to join the Philistines with hia 
 men in a war against Ms own country ; but, 
 being mistrusted, he was not permitted to go, 
 and he regretted his rejection. 
 
 " Upon his return to Ziglag, he found that 
 the Amalikites, whom he had wantonly de 
 spoiled, had, during his absence, entered and 
 burnt his city, and had taken his wives and 
 all that were thert-in captives ; but they ex 
 hibited a greater humanity than David, for it 
 is said ' that they slew not any, either great 
 or small." After bewailing his loss, he went 
 and consulted God through the medium of an 
 ' <])/!(!,' us a heathen would his oracle, and 
 having received divine encouragement, he,with 
 only four hundred of his men the other two 
 hundred being ' faint ' went out against the 
 Amalikites. The text says, ' And David smote 
 them from the twilight even until the evening 
 of the next day ; and there escaped not a mau
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 133 
 
 of them, pave four hundred young men, which 
 rode upon camels and fled.' If the Bible 
 be true, this bloody restitution was awarded 
 by the Almighty, and David was the meek 
 avenger ! 
 
 " When Saul was dead, David was recognized 
 by the tribe of Judah as their king; but he 
 soon began to intrigue for the house of Israel, 
 over which reigned Ish-boseth, the son of 
 Saul ; and he encouraged a traitorous propo 
 sal made by Abner, chief general of the army 
 of Israel. Fierce wars were prosecuted be 
 tween Judah and Israel the select people 
 of God. David finally succeeded in being es 
 tablished as ruler over both nations ; but the 
 means he used to accomplish this object were 
 most cruel and unjustifiable. At this time, 
 besides Michal, his first wife, he had six 
 others ; and six sons were born unto him at 
 Hebron. Now, having obtained full dominion, 
 instead of giving an example of self-denial, 
 and making an endeavor to promote peace and 
 good-will among men, the text says, ' And 
 David took him more concubines and wives 
 out of Jerusalem after he was come from 
 Hebron.' Then, under direction of the Lord, 
 he continued to war, dealing blood and de 
 struction to different nations; and, following 
 the brutal example of Joshua, he ' haughed ' 
 or hamstrung ' all the chariot-horses ' taken 
 in battle, save one hundred kept for his own 
 use ! 
 
 " When the ' ark of God ' was ' set upon a 
 new cart and brought out of the house of 
 Abinadab,' David appears in a new character. 
 Merely girdled with a linen ephod, he danced 
 naked on the highway before the Lord and 
 all present. The linen girdle must have been 
 but of gossamer texture, as his first wife, Mi 
 chal, sarcastically reproved him for the in 
 decency in these words, ' How glorious \vas 
 the king of Israel to-day, who uncovered 
 himself to-day in the eyes of the handmaids 
 of his servants, as one of the vain fellows 
 shamelessly uncovereth himself!' For this 
 deserved reproach, he repudiated Michal, who 
 had been faithful to him when he was poor 
 and unknown ; and afterward, upon a mere 
 pretense, caused two of her brothers and 
 five of her sons by her other husband to be 
 huiif/f Bishop Kitto, in framing an excuse 
 for this terrible act, says, ' It was desirable for 
 the peace of his successors that the house of 
 Saul should be exterminated !' 
 
 " When David was about forty years of age, 
 he saw a woman, who was very beautiful, 
 washing herself; upon inquiry, he found she 
 was the wife of Uriah, but he took her, and slie 
 became with child. To get rid of Uriah, who 
 was one of his soldiers, he gave private 
 orders to have him placed ' in the forefront of 
 the hottest battle' tor battles. were then of 
 frequent occurrence so that Uriah, being un 
 supported, was slain. David then took Hath- 
 sheba, the widow, and made her another of 
 his wives. 
 
 "As David grew older, he was n<>t content. 
 but was anxious for more conquests ; and he 
 extended the boundaries of his empire from 
 Egypt to the Euphrates. His treatment of the 
 vanquished, always terrible, was at times very 
 atrocious. Having taken Habbath, the chief 
 
 city of the Ammonites, and the great spoil 
 it contained, the text says, ' And he brought 
 forth the people that were therein, and put 
 them tinder mite* and under harrows of iron, 
 and under axes of iron, and made them, pass 
 through the brick-kiln, and thus did he unto 
 all the children of Ammon !' 
 
 " The indecent scandals of his household 
 are recorded in the Bible ; but all through a 
 long life, he was a man of uncontrollable pas 
 sion, his self-indulgence, even to licentious 
 ness, being of the grossest character ; for, 
 when he was old and ' stricken in years,' the 
 shameful chronicle was added against him. 
 As he drew near his end, one would think that 
 then, if at any time, he would have exhibited 
 some redeeming qualities some remorse 
 but the picture grows darker. In his last 
 charge to his son Solomon, he betrays trea 
 chery and vindictiveness almost without par 
 allel. Here are his words : ' Moreover, thou 
 knowest also what Joab, the son of Zeruiah, 
 did to me, and what he did to the captainn of 
 the hosts of Israel, unto Abner, the son of Ner, 
 and unto Amasa, the son of J ether, whom he 
 slew, and shed the blood of war in peace, and 
 put the blood of war upon his girdle that was 
 about his loins, and in his shoes that were on 
 his feet. Do, therefore, according to thy wis 
 dom, and let not his hoar head go down to 
 the grave in peace. 
 
 " ' And behold thou hast with thee, Shimei, 
 the son of Gera, a Benjamite, of Bahurim, 
 which cursed me with a grievous curse in the 
 day when I went to Mahanaim ; but he came 
 down to meet me at Jordan, and I sware to 
 him by the Lord, saying, 1 will not put thee 
 to death with the sword. 
 
 " ' Now, therefore, hold him not guiltless ; 
 for thou art a wise man, and knowest what 
 thou oughtest to do unto him ; but his hoar 
 head bring thou down to the grave with 
 blood.' 
 
 " Thus David passed away without one 
 word of forgiveness for his enemies, or even 
 one word of regret for his misdeeds. Over 
 hung by the shadow of death, vengeance was 
 upon his lips, and his last act was the viola 
 tion of his solemn oath to protect Shimei. 
 
 " Who, then, at this later period, could ex 
 pect to be regarded as righteous by following 
 the example of such a life or of such a death ? 
 The humanity of these so-called degenerate 
 days shudders at the idea ! Who, with & 
 true heart, would not prefer years of poverty 
 and an unknown grave, rather than live like 
 David and be called ' a man after God's own 
 heart'?" 
 
 During this delivery, Mr. Capel was several 
 times interrupted ; Mr. Baker often becanu 
 nearly outrageous. He would not permil 
 persons weak in the faith to be contaminateJ 
 by such heresy ; and, to pacify him in some 
 degree, Father White proposed that all 
 present should be requested to ret in; excepl 
 the church officials and a few others who 
 could be depended on. After some discus 
 sion, this was agreed to ; a great many wen 
 away, but a few yet lingered, here and 
 there, as if their interest had been increased 
 So the ministers and officials had it nearly all 
 to themselves.
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 " Brother," said Mr. White, in his usual mild 
 manner, "the character you have drawn of Da 
 vid is only such as the Bible gives him ; it is 
 an evidence of its impartiality ; it depicts man 
 with his defects as well as with his virtues. 
 It does not screen the offender, though it ex 
 alts the penitent." 
 
 " I can not say," said Mr. Capel, " that the 
 recital of such defects can be profitable or 
 edifying ; it, on the contrary, tends to give 
 men false ideas of what is right. The inhu 
 manities of profane history claim no heavenly 
 sanction ; no brutalized leader could exhibit 
 ft divine commission ; men acted under the 
 impulse of human passion, not as hordes 
 rushing out to execute the vengeance of a 
 deity. The actions of David, as recorded 
 in the books of Samuel, like other biblical 
 biographies, have rather a tendency to blunt 
 our feelings of delicacy and humanity than 
 to make them m re sensitive. The man 
 who for the first time sees the dead and 
 dying stretched upon the battle-field is 
 shocked at the carnage ; but sad experience 
 has proved that the most humane become in 
 different by the frequency of such sights. 
 When we read numerous accounts in the Bi 
 ble that conflict with the prevailing ideas of 
 purity and justice, we gradually learn to ac 
 cept them when we are told that the Almighty 
 for some special purpose, connived at or favor 
 ed such actions. In cruelties continuing from 
 the Waldenses to the Quaker, Inquisitors 
 and Puritans alike have emblazoned their per 
 secuting banners with authoritative texts." 
 
 " The Bible does not exculpate David," said 
 Mr. White ; " you know of Nathan's stern re 
 proof. That David sincerely repented is fully 
 established by his Psalms." 
 
 " There are Christian men willing to ad 
 mit that David committed many vile acts, but 
 the Bible accuses him in only one instance, 
 that of Uriah; it was for this that Nathan 
 rebuked him. But notwithstanding, he is de 
 fended in ' Holy Writ,' and the text which I 
 shall repeat is ample proof. But first, Solomon 
 and some of his people were threatened for 
 their idolatry ; it is said in 1st Kings, chapter 
 11, verse 33, ' Because they have forsaken me 
 and have worshiped Ashtoreth, the goddess 
 of the Zidonians, Chemosh, the god of the 
 Moabites, and Milcom, the god of the children 
 of Ammon, and have not walked in my ways, 
 to do that which is right in my eyes, and to 
 keep my statutes and my judgments, a did 
 David, his father." 
 
 " Here, while Solomon, the great and wise, 
 was threatened for his idolatry, David, his 
 father, was commended for his righteousness ; 
 and when the Lord promise-! certain favors to 
 a successor, it was, the text says, ' Because 
 David did that which was right in the eyes 
 of the Lord, and turned not aside from any 
 thing that he commanded him all the daytof 
 his life, save only in the matter of Uriah the 
 Hittite.' 1st Kings, chapter 15, verse 5. Lan 
 guage could not be stronger. The approval 
 of David's conduct is full and explicit, one act 
 alone being condemned. 
 
 'As to David's being the author of the Psalms, 
 commentators have differed. There is no evi 
 dence to prove who the writers were. The 
 
 137th Psalm could not have been written till 
 more than four hundred years after the time 
 of David, because it refers to the captivity of 
 the Jews in Babylon. If, Kowever, such a 
 man of blood wrote the Psalms, no one could 
 excel him in dissimulation ; they are a hete 
 rogeneous collection, wherein sentiments of 
 piety and self-righteousness, imprecation and 
 vengeance, are freely commingled : and 
 though the Psalms have been ever lauded 
 with amazing obliviousness as to their de 
 fects, they would form but a wretched basis 
 for morality at the present day." 
 
 Mr. Baker made another effort to silence 
 Mr. Capel ; he said the evidence they already 
 had from his own lips was sufficient to brand 
 the late junior preacher as a ravening wolf 
 an out and out detainer of the word of God. 
 It would be sinful to listen any longer. Un 
 expectedly, however, the bretbren, as if desir 
 ous of allowing the accused to commit him 
 self to the fullest extent, consented to hear 
 his opinion of Paul ; for he who could pre 
 sume to utter any thing against one FO de- 
 vinely inspired must be far, far on the high 
 road to spiritual infamy.' Father White, like 
 most preachers, could be very bitter at times 
 against revilers of the wrd ; now, he mani 
 fested great patience. He was troubled, and 
 seemed to ponder upon wha\. had been suid ; 
 perhaps a terrible doubt might have been in 
 truding upon his own mind ! 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 HAVING received permission to continue his 
 reply, Mr. Capel, to the surprise of Mr. Baker, 
 grew bolder, and proceeded to give his opinion 
 of one who is said to be the father of the 
 Gentile church the thirteenth apostle, as 
 " born out of de time," yet who declared of 
 himself that he " was not a whit behind the 
 very chiefest." 
 
 " Paul, who was a Jew and a Pharisee, 
 though by no means so inhuman as David, 
 yet, as the reputed agent of the high-priest, 
 was undoubtedly guilty of murder ; for this/ 
 we have Lis own acknowledgment. In Irjfl 
 speech before Agrippa, he said, 'And I perse 
 cuted this way unto death, binding and 
 delivering into prisons both men and women.' 
 (Acts 22 : 4 ) He was an accomplice at the 
 murder of Stephen, (Acts 22 : 20,) for he stood 
 by and kept the clothes of those who stoned 
 him, ' consenting unto his death,' and he had 
 ' breathed out threatenings and slaughter 
 against the disciples of the Lord.' 
 
 "After his conversion, his fierce zeal was but 
 transferred ; for when he considered it neces 
 sary, he could 'be rigorous enough, had he the 
 power, to crush his opponents and extermi 
 nate heretics. In this respect, he must have 
 been the exemplar of Calvin and others of 
 similar views. From the beginning, he evinced 
 a strong desire to be a prominent ruler in 
 the church ; he was arrogant, had disputations, 
 given offense, and had many enemies ; and 
 though he inculcated charity, humility, and 
 submission to as irreconcilable an extent as is 
 followed by some religious teachers at the
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 133 
 
 present day, he was nevertheless in disposi 
 tion intolerant and dictatorial, and caused no 
 little strife among 1 adherents of the new faith. 
 Anxious to make proselytes in his own way, 
 the means he used were often exceptionable ; 
 and it is to be feared that he had not a consis 
 tent regard for truth. If Peter cursed and 
 denied his Master, if John was presumptuous, 
 if James was vindictive enough to wish the 
 destruction of an unbelieving village, and if 
 Judas was such a wretch if these, chosen by 
 Christ, and in his very presence, were not free 
 from sin and offense, surely we may admit 
 that Paul, who was not so highly favored, 
 might have gravely erred himself as priests 
 still do though giving excellent admonition 
 to others. 
 
 " That he was ambitious of being distin 
 guished as a high-priest in Christianity, many 
 consider evident from the fact that his alleged 
 writings are said to have been the first forma 
 tion of the New Testament. Fourteen of its 
 books are ascribed to him alone, the other 
 thirteen being the reputed production of sewn 
 persons, four only of whom were apostles, the 
 remaining eight apostles having obtained no 
 literary position in the present compilation. 
 The admirers of the ' great Paul ' wish, how 
 ever, to make it appear that it was because of 
 his peculiar fitness and education that he was 
 inspired to become the initiatory scribe ; but 
 such a plea is untenable, for we are informed 
 that on the day of Pentecost the disciples 
 received the miraculous gift of tongues in 
 order to qualify them to ' teach all nations.' 
 
 " The inference, therefore, is most conclusive 
 that Paul, no matter how well or how early 
 trained in the high schools of his nation, was 
 not as well qualified for a mission among the 
 heathen as those specially gifted and in 
 structed for that purpose by a divine power, 
 long before his conversion. His natural pre 
 sumption, which led him to say, ' For I speak 
 to you, Gentiles, inasmuch as I am the apostle 
 of the Gentiles, I magnify mine office,' (Rom. 
 11 : 13,) is proof either of his entire ignorance 
 that Christ had previously made special ap 
 pointments for the Gentiles, or that he was 
 determined to act quite independently, ir 
 respective of the authority granted to others. 
 That such appointments were made and such 
 authority granted, I shall be able to prove 
 from the Scriptures. 
 
 " Immediately before Christ ascended, he gave 
 his disciples promise of the gifts which they 
 subsequently received in a miraculous man 
 ner on the day of Pentecost, gifts which en 
 abled them to speak the language of every 
 nation ; and his intention as to how the gifts 
 or power should be vised is apparent when we 
 read the text, ' But ye shall receive power af 
 ter that the Holy Ghost is come upon you ; and 
 ye shall be witnesses unto me both in Jerusa 
 lem, and in all Judea, and in Samaria, and niiti> 
 the- uttermost part* of the earth.' (Acts 1 : 8.) 
 Again he told them, ' Go ye therefore and 
 teach nil nation*.' (Matt. 28 : 19.) And 
 again, ' Go ye into all the icoi-ld, and preach 
 the Gospel to ereri/ rreatnrc.' (Mark 10 : 15.) 
 These commands are plain, precise, and posi 
 tive ; when the disciples were told to go into 
 the ' uttermost parts of the earth,' to ' all na 
 
 tions,' and to ' every creature,' no one can hesi 
 tate to believe that they were fully commis 
 sioned to the heathen ; and it is more reasona 
 ble to believe that several persons should bo 
 required for such an extensive mission than 
 that < me man Paul alone should be set apart 
 for that purpose. That he therefore ' usurped 
 authority ' must be the inevitable deduction 
 of every unprejudiced mind. 
 
 " Paul is first spoken of in the Acts, a book 
 written, it is supposed, by Luke. It is mostly 
 a history of him, and tradition says that he 
 supplied much or nearly all of the information 
 it contains. There is not a shadow of evidence 
 to substantiate the miraculous account of his 
 conversion ; the narrative is entirely his own, 
 depending altogether on his mere assertion. 
 He does not give the names of any who were 
 with him ; neither does he give place, nor 
 date simply, ' as I went to Damascus.' The 
 story is, that about two years after the cruci 
 fixion, being on his way to persecute Chris 
 tians, he suddenly saw ' a great light,' ' a 
 light from heaven,' not the personal appear 
 ance of any one ; he then fell to the earth, 
 heard a voice, and was ordered to preach. 
 This miracle, he said, made him a believer ; the 
 story, however, contains several discrepancies. 
 The first account of this occurrence, in Acts 
 9th, says, that after they had seen the ' great 
 light', Paul fell to the earth, but the men who 
 were with him ' stood speechless,' hearing a 
 toii-i', but seeiny no man ; the second account, 
 in Acts 22, Paul says, that the men heard not 
 the voice ; and in the third statement, Acts 
 20, he says, that when the light was seen, all 
 fell to the earth ! One account, therefore, says, 
 that the men stood and heard a voice, another 
 that they did not hear the voice, and a third 
 that they did not stand, but that all fell to the 
 earth ! Which is the correct account ? 
 
 " According to these different narratives, 
 Paul saw no person, only a 'light/ which 
 struck him with immediate blindness ; but he 
 subsequently wished to leave the impression 
 that he had seen Jesus, for he reports him as 
 having said, ' For I have appeared unto thee ;' 
 he made Ananias say, ' The God of our fathers 
 hath chosen thee that thou shouldst know his 
 will and see that Just One.' (Acts 22 : 14.) 
 When the disciples were doubtful of Paul's 
 conversion and afraid of him, his companion, 
 Barnabas, to whom he related the miracle, as 
 sured them that ' lie had seen the Lord by the 
 way, and that he had spoken to him." (Acts 
 9 : 27.) And Paul, in addressing the Corin 
 thians, said, ' Am I not an apostle ? am I not 
 free ? have I not seen Jesus Christ our Lord ?' 
 (1 Cor. 9 : 1.) And again, having declared that 
 Christ was seen by many after his resurrection, 
 he says, ' And, last of all, he was seen of me 
 also, as of one born, out of due time.' (1 Cor. 
 15 : 8.) To say the least, the ambiguity of 
 these passages is very great, almost a contra 
 diction. 
 
 ' By the two first accounts, we find that.at the 
 time of his miraculous conversion, Paul receiv 
 e.l no message, but was directed to go and be in- 
 structcd at Damascus; by the last, we are in 
 formed that he received his instructions and au 
 thority from the Lord at the very hour of hia 
 conversion, and that he proceeded on his mis-
 
 136 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 eion forthwith* no way afflicted with blind 
 ness ! 
 
 " Paul evinces a desire to be distinguish 
 ed. He claimed to be an apostle, though 
 not recognized as such by the others, the num 
 ber of whom was limited to twelve. By his 
 own statement, he did not go near them im 
 mediately after his reputed conversion, either 
 for counsel or to manifest contrition for what 
 he had done as a persecutor. He kept away 
 for ' three years,' and boasted that his right to 
 teach was independent ; that he was not 
 taught by man, he had ' conferred not with 
 flesh and blood,' ' neither,' says he, ' went I up 
 to Jerusalem to them which were apostles be 
 fore me, but I went into Arabia and returned 
 again to Damascus.' (Gal. 1 : 17.) Indeed, he de 
 clares that he was so little known in person 
 either to apostles or disciples as to be ' un 
 known by face unto the churches of Judea 
 which were in Christ.' ' But they had heard 
 only that he which persecuted us. in times 
 past now preacheth the faith which once he 
 destroyed.' (Gal. 1 : 22, 23.) 
 
 " It is surprising, however, to find this rela 
 tion most positively contradicted in Acts 9. 
 In that chapter, we are told that, after Paul 
 was restored to sight, he remained ' certain 
 days with the disciples which were at Damas 
 cus.' While in that city, his zeal led him to 
 enter the synagogues ' preaching Christ ' and 
 ' confounding the Jews,' who, no doubt, were 
 greatly annoyed by his intrusion as well as 
 by his doctrine ; and, governed by a national 
 impulse, ' they took counsel to kill him ;' but 
 having heard of it, ' the disciples took him by 
 night, and let him down by the wall in a bas 
 ket.' He then went direct to Jerusalem ' and 
 assayed to join himself to the disciples ; but 
 they were all afraid of him, and believed not 
 that he was a disciple,' They, it appears, had 
 only heard of him as a persecutor, and had no 
 authority for his conversion but his own 
 word. Barnabas, having assured the apostles 
 that Paul was a believer, that he had 
 ' preached boldly at Damascus,' they confided 
 in him. ' And he was with them, coming in 
 and going out at Jerusalem. Again his in 
 discreet zeal brought him into trouble ; he 
 ' disputed against the Grecians/ and they, 
 most probably incited by the Jews, ' went 
 about to slay him ;' and the ' brethren, ' to 
 save him a second time, ' sent him forth to 
 Tarsus.' 
 
 " Furthermore, in his speech before Agrippa, 
 Paul stated that, in obedience to the ' heavenly 
 vision,' he went 'first unto thsm of Damascus 
 and at Jerusalem, and throughout all the 
 coasts of Judea, and then to the Gentiles.' 
 
 " If he, therefore, 'first ' went to Damascus 
 and Jerusalem after his conversion, how are 
 we to reconcile this account with that which 
 declares as positively that ' immediately ' after 
 the same event he went to Arabia, a'nd did 
 not go to Jerusalem until three years subse 
 quently ? Commentators have failed to pro 
 duce an agreement : such glaring discrepan 
 cies affect the credibility of the different narra 
 tives. If Paul thus contradicts himself, what 
 reliance can be placed upon his statements ? 
 
 * See Gal. 1 : 16, 17. 
 
 To account for these contradictions, some sup. 
 pose that Paul felt annoyed at his reception 
 by the apostles at the indifference of thenj 
 and of the disciples and denied being near 
 them. 
 
 " Having started, however, upon his mission, 
 his constant endeavor was to impress others 
 with his assumed authority. He never appeals 
 to any gospel or record of the Jerusalem 
 church, he never points to the true apostles, 
 but seems to ignore their prerogative, and 
 orders his own epistles to be read as sufficient 
 for his converts. ' If any man think himself 
 to be a prophet or spiritual, let him acknow 
 ledge the things that I write unto you as the 
 commandments of the Lord.' (1 Cor. 14 : 37.) 
 ' For I speak unto you, Gentiles, inasmuch as 
 I am the apostle of the Gentiles, I magnify 
 mine office.' (Rom. 11 : 13.) When giving 
 certain directions, he concludes, 'And so ordain 
 I in all churches.' (1 Cor. 7:17.) ' Where 
 fore, I beseech you, be ye followers of me.' 
 (1 Cor. 4 : 16.) ' Be ye followers of me, even 
 as I also am of Christ.' (1 Cor. 11:1.) ' Now, 
 as concerning the collection for the saints, as 
 I have given order to the churches of Galatia, 
 even so do ye.' (1 Cor. 16 : 1.) 'To whom 
 ye forgive any thing, I forgive also ; for if 1 
 forgive any thing, to whom I forgive it for 
 your sakes, I forgive it in the person of Christ.' 
 (2 Cor. 2 : 10.) ' Brethren, be followers to 
 gether of me, and mark them which walk, so 
 as ye have us (me) for an example.' (Phil. 3 : 17.) 
 '.And if any man obey not our word by this 
 epistle, note that man, and have no company 
 with him, that he may be ashamed.' (2 Thes. 
 3 : 14.) Priestly arrogance could scarcely go 
 further ! From these passages, it is plain that 
 his desire was to be considered equal, or, ia- 
 deed, more correctly, superior to any one 
 else. No other writer in the New Testament 
 presumes to such an extent ; the real apostles 
 were comparatively modest and humble in 
 their assertions. The writings of Paul can 
 be distinguished from all others by the fre 
 quent repetitions of the pronouns 1, me, my, 
 and mine ; and the letter /, like an index- 
 finger, is almost continually seen in his epistles 
 as if pointing to the egotism and self-sufficien 
 cy of the scribe. 
 
 " Paul was jealous of other teachers ; certain 
 disciples or preachers having visited the Co 
 rinthians, to whom he had partly devoted him 
 self, he wrote, ' I am jealous over you with 
 godly jealousy.' (2 Cor. 11 : 2.) And, like 
 many an intolerant high-church and low- 
 church Paul of the present day, he not only 
 dealt in strong imputations against these teach 
 ers, but denounced them as ' false apostles, 
 deceitful workers, transforming themselves 
 into the apostles of Christ,' (2 Cor. 11 : 13,) 
 without attempting any proof. He reminded 
 the Corinthians that, as a teacher, he was 
 not a whit behind the very chiefest apostles.' 
 (2 Cor. 11 : 5.) 'I say again, let no man think 
 me a fool; if otherwise yet as a fool receive 
 me, that I may boast myself a little.' (v. 16.) 
 ' Are they Hebrews ? so am I. Are they 
 Israelites ? so am I. Are they the seed of 
 Abraham ? so am I. Are they members of 
 Christ ? (I speak as a fool,) I am more.' (v. 22.) 
 ' I am become a fool in glorying ; ye have
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 13J 
 
 compelled me : for in nothing am I behind 
 the very chiefest apostles.' (2 Cor. 12 : 16.) 
 The 1 1 th chapter of 2d Corinthians is almost en 
 tirely taken up with his self-laudation, contrast 
 ing and denouncing. The teachers who went 
 among the Cretans he also condemned, as 
 'unruly and vain talkers and deceivers, whose 
 mouths must be stopped,' and, quoting the 
 language of another, he abused the Cretans 
 as being 'alway liars, evil beasts, slow bellies.' 
 (Titus 1 : 12.) Yet, after all his anxiety to 
 establish and control churches, the Corin 
 thians and Gulatians almost entirely rejected 
 his teaching. The Christians at Jerusalem, 
 it appears, did not approve of his course in 
 suddenly breaking loose from the Mosaic law 
 to please or gain adherents, and they sent out 
 missionaries, with ' letters of commendation,' 
 to counteract his teaching. (2 Cor. 3:1.) It 
 was against such that Paul was so very 
 bitter. 
 
 "As a preacher, he was obtrusive, given to 
 contention, and vindictive. He repeatedly 
 entered synagogues at Damascus, Jerusalem, 
 and other places, disputing with Jews and 
 Gentiles, giving offense, engendering strife, 
 and causing such ill-will as often to place his 
 own life in jeopardy ; when forced to leave, 
 or when obstinately confronted, instead of an 
 net of conciliation, he would give some harsh 
 rebuke, or defiantly shake the dust oft' his feet 
 against them. (Acts 13: 51.) Of those wlio spoke 
 ' slanderously ' against him, he said, their 
 'damnation was just.' (Rom. 3 : 8.) He 
 contended with Barnabas, his fellow- laborer, 
 and separated from him. (Acts 15 : 39.) Ac 
 cording to his account, Peter, his senior in the 
 church, was blamable, and he ' withstood 
 him to the face.' (Gal. 2 : 11.) His intoler 
 ance against those whom he called ' unbe 
 lievers ' or ' false teachers ' proves that, 
 though he changed his religion, his dogmatic 
 spirit was as fierce as ever : he said, ' If any 
 man love not the Lord Jesus Christ, let him 
 be anathema maranatha.' (1 Cor. 16 : 22.) ' If 
 any man preach any other gospel unto you 
 than that ye have received, let him be ac 
 cursed.' (Gal. 1 : 9.) Unbelievers were to be 
 ' punished with everlasting destruction from 
 the presence of the Lord.' (2 Thes. 1:9.) 
 ' And for this cause God shall send them 
 strong delusion that they should believe a lie. 
 that they all might be damned who believe 
 not the truth.' (2 Thes. 2:11, 12.) ' Alex 
 ander the coppersmith did me much evil, the 
 Lord reward him according to his works.' 
 (2 Tim. 4 : 14.) These denunciations are in 
 direct opposition to the admonition of Christ, 
 which said, ' bless and curse not.' Paul said 
 to his hearers, ' Be ye followers of me,' and in 
 this dictatorial mood too many of the priests 
 "have trodden in his very footsteps even to 
 the present day. 
 
 " Determined to gain proselytes, he was plia 
 ble and inconsistent ; lie says, ' Unto the 
 Jew I became as a Jew, that I might gain the 
 Jews.' ' To them that are without the law, as 
 without the law.' ' To the weak became I as 
 weak, that I might gain the weak; I am 
 made all things to all men.' (1 Cor. 9 : 20 : 21.) 
 To please s-nne, he professed to disbelieve in 
 the utility of the Mosaic law, and declared that 
 
 ' by the deeds of the law, there shall no flesh be 
 justified.' (Horn. 3 : 20.) ' Behold I, Paul, say 
 unto you, that if ye be circumcised, Christ 
 shall profit you nothing.' (Gal. 5 : 2.) Yet we 
 shall see that on a certain occasion he agreed 
 to dissemble, and make it appear that he ' walk 
 ed orderly ' and ' kept the law.' After having 
 spent soine time among strangers, he revisited 
 Jerusalem and told the brethren of his great 
 success among the Gentiles. The brethren, 
 who gained many converts among the Jews by 
 adhering to the law. incorporating it with their 
 Christianity, said to him, ' Thou seest, brother 
 how many thousands of Jews there are which 
 believe ; and they are all zealous of the law.' 
 ' And they are informed of thee that thou 
 teachest all the Jews which are among the 
 Gentiles to forsake Moses' sayings, that they 
 ought not to circumcise their children.' 
 ' What is it therefore ? The multitude must 
 needs come together ; for they will hear that 
 thou art come.' Here wasa difficulty ; the Chris 
 tian Jews were sure to learn that Paul, who 
 taught a violation of the lawto gain the Gentiles, 
 had come amongthem, and the teachers at Jeru 
 salem anticipated trouble. What was to be 
 done ? Could there be no compromise ? No ! 
 nothing but an open act of deception was sug 
 gested to preserve the peace ! It was to be 
 done this way ' Do, therefore, this that we say 
 to thee. We have four men which have a vow 
 on them. Them take, and purify thyself with 
 them, and be at charges with them ( that is, to 
 pay his proportion of the ceremonial expenses,) 
 that they mpy shave their heads, and all may 
 know that those things whereof they were in 
 formed concerning thee are nothing ; but that 
 thou thyself also walkest orderly and keepest 
 the law.' The deception was to be carried so 
 far as not only to try and make Paul appear 
 as a conscientious upholder of the law, but that 
 the Gentiles among whom he had been were 
 also observers of it ; ' only keeping themselves 
 from things offered to idols, and from blood.' 
 
 " Then Paul took the men, and the next 
 day, purifying himself with them, entered into 
 the temple to signify the accomplishment of 
 the days of purification, until that an offering' 
 should be made for every one of them.' By 
 this act, he therefore betrayed a total disregard 
 for principle or truth. As to the culpability 
 of the other teachers, we can not say, for the 
 account was derived from himself; but he WPS 
 not reliable, and he might have wished to 
 make others appear as temporizing as he was 
 himself. The deception, however, was of no 
 avail ; the Jewish Christians had been too well 
 informed of his constant violation of the law, 
 and before the end of the seven days the time 
 required for the ceremony of purification ' the 
 Jews which were of Asia, when they saw him 
 in the temple, stirred up all the people and 
 laid hands on him.' The history of this dis 
 creditable conduct can be read in Acts 21 : 
 17-30. On other occasions, he also gave proof 
 of his insincerity by a formal compliance with 
 the Mosaic law. He had his head shorn, 'for 
 he had a vow ' (Acts 18 : 18 ;) he desired to 
 have Timotheus accompany him on a mission, 
 and to make him acceptable to the Jews, he 
 with his own hands actually circumcised that 
 disciple. (Acts 16 : 3.)
 
 138 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 " His idea of the social state was absurd ; 
 his bias was strong against marriage. Though 
 we find him at one time saying, ' Marriage is 
 honorable in all,' (Heb. 13 : 4,) yet he repeat 
 edly insinuates against it. ' For I (Paul) would 
 that all men were even as I myself ' (unmarried.) 
 (1 Cor. 7:7.) 'I say, therefore, to the un 
 married and widows, it is good for them if 
 they abide even as I.' (1 Cor. 7:8.) ' Art 
 thou loosed from a wife? seek not a wife.' 
 (1 Cor. 8 : 27.) On this question, he displays 
 further inconsistency by saying that a widow 
 was ' at liberty to be married to whom she 
 will.' (v. 39.) Yet he declares to Timothy 
 that ' younger widows,' ' when they have be 
 gun to wax wanton against Christ, they will 
 marry, having damnation because they have 
 cast off their first faith.' (1 Tim. 5 : 11, 12.) 
 Such reasoning is totally indefensible. 
 
 " He was in favor of caste. ' Let every man 
 abide in the same calling wherein he was 
 called.' (1 Cor. 7 : 20.) This is an unwise 
 check to all commendable ambition. He 
 was in favor of servile obedience to the ' higher 
 powers,' asserting that, ' the powers that be are 
 ordained of God,' concerning which nothing 
 can be more false ; all experience goes to estab 
 lish the utter rottenness of such a proposition. 
 The acceptance of such a sentiment would be 
 the degradation of liberty. Despots might 
 rule 'by the grace of God,' and men submit to 
 every usurper! No wonder that the first 
 seven verses of the thirteenth chapter of Ro 
 mans have ever been texts and letters of gold 
 to secular and ecclesiastical tyrants. 
 
 " Woman, too, he would keep in ancient 
 slavish submission ; in this respect, he adhered 
 to Jewish ideas. ' Let your women keep 
 silence in the churches ; for it is not permitted 
 unto them to speak, but they are commanded 
 to be under obedience.' ' And if they will 
 learn any thing, let them ask their husbands 
 at home ; for it is a shame for women to speak 
 in the church.' (1 Cor. 14 : 34, 35.) ' Let the 
 women learn in silence with all subjection.' 
 'But I suffer not a woman to teach nor to 
 usurp authority over the man, but to be in 
 silence.' (1 Tim. 2 : 10, 11.) These clerical 
 dicta were based on what he wishes the 
 ladies to accept as sufficiently profound 
 reasons. ' For Adam was first formed, then 
 Eve.' ' And Adam was not deceived, but the 
 woman, being deceived, was in the transgres 
 sion.' (!) Yet to make up for her disqualifica 
 tion and inferiority, he adds a word of comfort 
 in another direction. ' Notwithstanding, she 
 shall be saved in child-bearing, if they con 
 tinue in faith, and charity, and holiness, and 
 sobriety.' (1 Tim. 2 : 13, 14, 15.) The connec 
 tion, however, is somewhat bewildering. 
 
 " In trivial matters, too, he presumes to gov 
 ern women, and issues very frivolous com 
 mands as to how they should even dress and 
 wear their hair ; she should appear in ' modest 
 apparel, not with broidered hair, or gold, or 
 pearls, or costly array.' (1 Tim. 2 : 9.) She 
 hould have ' long hair,' but should not pray 
 with her head ' uncovered.' He said, ' But 
 every woman that prayeth or prophesieth 
 with her head uncovered dishonoreth her 
 head ; for that is even all one as if she were 
 shaven.' ' For if the woman be not covered, 
 
 let her also be shorn ; bat if it be a shame for 
 a woman to be shorn or shaven, let her bo 
 covered.' ' Judge in yourselves, is it comely 
 that a woman pray unto God uncovered 'I' 
 (1 Cor. 11 -. 5, 6, 13.) 
 
 " Man, however, being in his opinion her 
 superior, was more privileged. For a man 
 indeed oiight not to cover his head, forasmuch 
 as he is the image and glory of God ; but the 
 woman is the glory of the man.' ' For the 
 man is not of the woman ; but the woman of 
 the man.' ' Neither was the man created for the 
 woman ; but the woman for the man.' ' For 
 this cause ought the woman to have power 
 on her head because of the angels.' (1 Cor. 
 11 : 7, 8, 9, 10.) This verse has completely 
 defied the ability of commentators. What 
 she was to gain by the ' power on her head 
 because of the angels ' is perhaps wisely in 
 explicable ; and like the meaning of many 
 other texts will be made known when it can 
 be understood. 
 
 " Doth not even nature itself teach you that 
 if a man have long hair it is a shame unto 
 him T ' But if a woman have long hair, it 
 is a glory to her ; for her hair is given her 
 for a covering.' (!) (1 Cor. 10 : 14, 15.) 
 
 " A popular author may impose a silly tale 
 on the public, and it will be read with de 
 light ; while a far superior one from an un 
 known writer may not get a single notice 
 of approval. Doctors of divinity, ministerial 
 sages, profound theologians all of thorn emi 
 nent scholars, burdened with the lore of 
 distinguished universities, will gravely read 
 these priestly absurdities of Paul, and must 
 it be believed 1 actually try to eclipse each 
 other by writing enigmatical comments upon 
 them ! 
 
 " Though the women of our times, the most 
 resolute church members, seem not to have 
 yet recognized the domineering spirit which 
 dictated such commands ; and though women 
 are the most active agents to promote their 
 circulation, yet as to these mandates, none 
 positively none will obey them. They are a 
 dead letter to all ; but as part of the ' sacred 
 word ' are still included in ' holy writ,' 
 and disseminated for spiritual edification ! 
 And were a Paul or an Apollos to preach 
 them again among us, our mothers, and sis 
 ters, and wives would spurn the idea of being 1 
 degraded to the social condition of the women 
 of the Bible. 
 
 "Like other ecstatics, Paul professed to 
 have received communications in dreams and 
 visions ; he even went in a trance as far as the 
 third heaven ;' and to impress all with the 
 fullness of his power, undertook to perform 
 miracles, but the evidence of this gift de 
 pends upon his own report to Luke. He waa 
 ' crafty ' and was, as has been shown, willing 
 to practice 'guile' to gain converts; even 
 were a falsehood necessary for such a purpose, 
 he could excuse himself, and say, ' For if the 
 truth of God hath more abounded through 
 my lie unto his glory, why yet am I judged 
 as a sinner 1' (Rom. 8 : 7.) He was high- 
 minded and presumptuous, and said lie was 
 not a whit behind the very chiefest ;' he was 
 humble, 'less than the least of all saints.' 
 He was vindictive, and could curse his ene-
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 139 
 
 oiies ; lie could assume a different, character, 
 and say, ' Bless them which persecute you ; 
 bless and curse not.' (Horn. 12 : 14.) He 
 could say, ' For there is no respect of persons 
 with God.' (Horn. 2 : 11.) Yet in his ninth 
 chapter to the Romans is to be found the main 
 prop of predestination. ' Therefore hath he 
 mercy on whom he will have mercy, and 
 whom he will he hardened!.' ' llath not 
 the potter power over the clay of the same 
 lump to make one vessel unto honor and 
 another unto dishonor T (Rom. 9 : 18, 21.) 
 He wrote to the Hebrews that, ' it was im 
 possible for God to lie." (Heb. 6 : 18.) To the 
 Thessalonians, he declared that God could 
 delude others to believe a lie. (2 Thes. 2 : 11.) 
 
 " In many respects, as we have just seen, his 
 precepts were contradictory and his con 
 duct inconsistent and prevaricating. It would 
 take me too long to recount other instances 
 in which he appears to disadvantage. I would 
 not, Therefore, consider Paul a safe guide in 
 morals ; and in my opinion, neither David nor 
 Paul was as well qualified to teach mankind 
 as were many of the ancient philosophers and 
 moralists who never even heard of Moses or of 
 Christ." 
 
 There was a pause, Mr. Baker looked as fierce 
 as an angry inquisitor ; the brethren were as 
 tonished at the boldness of Mr. Capel ; yet his 
 calm declamation, if it did not convince, it per 
 plexed ; and before any could reply, he con 
 tinued, " I have a few words more to say, and, 
 if not trespassing too far, would like to make 
 a fuller confession of my reasons for leaving 
 the faith, which you must perceive I have al 
 ready left. To be plain, I do not consider the 
 Bible the inspired ' word of God.' I have la 
 bored in vain for some time to discover who 
 were its authors, where written, in what lan 
 guage, and at what time ; none can tell, all 
 is Speculation. Though immense expense 
 has been incurred in the circulation of that 
 book and to disseminate its doctrines, yet 
 Christianity has failed to attract mankind ; its 
 adherents are but a small minority compared 
 with the whole. I do not believe that God will 
 punish, the great majority for their ignorance 
 or unbelief. I never could heartily believe 
 that a benevolent Being, who made man so 
 fallible, would inflict an eternity of torture 
 upon him for any offense. The wrath of man 
 may exist against his fellow for a time, even 
 for long, long years ; but, as a general 
 rule, if no counteracting influences are 
 thrustupon him, nature will interfere, and the 
 plea which he oft refused to hear will at last 
 bring pity and forgiveness ; I ask, can God be 
 less than man in this sublime virtue 1 
 
 " I have been asked, where we could find mo 
 rality or civilization without Christianity'? how 
 it could be replaced 1 Man in every clime 
 gets his morality with his humanity the 
 source of his love, and his joy, and his hope ; 
 but these good impulses have been too often 
 controlled and misdirected by superstition. 
 The r.-ligion of the Bible never yet clung to 
 humanity with fidelity. The human mind con 
 tains within itself the germs of goodness, which 
 will generally increase with intellectual 
 growth I Morality and noble virtues were as 
 fully developed among the ancient Greeks and 
 
 Romans as they ever have been since. Chris 
 tianity is not progressive ; for centuries it kept 
 in its formal track ; it did nothing to advance 
 cotemporaneous civilization ; Avhere it could 
 not repress the spirit of progressive innovation, 
 it tardily followed, ana then as it still doea 
 it unblushingly arrogated the victory. * 
 
 " In London and in Rome, in Turkey and in 
 Japan, on the Ganges and on the Nile, creeds 
 are widely different ; yet priests of every be 
 lief alike demand, ' How can you replace re 
 ligion ?' I answer, by the diffusion of greater 
 knowledge, and the establishment of less in 
 equality among mankind. Crime exists ; it 
 is mostly the result of want or from the 
 dread of it. Reduce distress, and let thero 
 be more rational information, and you in 
 crease human happiness ; this can be done. 
 The blessed task will remain for a more perfect 
 and paternal form of government than man 
 has at present ; but it can never be accom 
 plished by any form of religion. 
 
 " Man must be led to advance in morality, 
 first out of a regard for the principle itself, next 
 for the approbation of his kind ; and to avoid 
 the inevitable consequences of a violation of 
 that principle which are sure to follow in this 
 world, not because of the dread of future 
 punishment ' beyond the grave.' 
 
 " My friends, I feel that the pursuit of truth ia 
 to me most painful. To some it is but the 
 work of a moment to bend to conviction, and 
 reject errors as soon as they are discovered ; 
 with me it is different, I yield reluctantly, 
 but yield I must. 1 have read that Bible at my 
 mother's knee when I was a child, and heard 
 with pleasure the story of Joseph and his 
 brethren, of Samson's power and Solomon's 
 wisdom. I read of these in the full belief that 
 all was true, that there could be no trace of 
 error among the then luminous pages of that 
 book ; with what regret have I discovered the 
 mistake \ I must soon return to my native 
 [and, but I can not pass the old church to 
 where my mother often led me, where I wor 
 shiped as a child, without a pang, to think 
 that I can worship there no more. The Sab 
 bath bell may reach my ear like the sound of 
 some olden melody, but its influence Avill be 
 one forever. And when I visit that mother's 
 ve in the quiet of evening, I can not again 
 read tlie text upon her tomb as the word of 
 inspiration. None can tell how deeply I feel 
 these things ; it is hard to exclude the pleas 
 ing illusions of the past, but truth is worthy 
 of every sacrifice, and in making this public 
 acknowledgment I give my first offering." 
 
 " Your regrets are very poetical, and, if re 
 port is true, you are to have your reward, the 
 price of your apostasy. Well, well, Mends," 
 cried Mr" Baker, " such a blasphemous tirade 
 against God's blessed apostle 1 never before 
 heard \ I am even now surprised that I could sit 
 and listen to it so long. It is a miracle that 
 the Almighty did not hurl a special shaft of 
 his vengeance against him that uttered, as 
 well as against us that could allow his temple 
 to be desecrated by such dreadful profanity \ 
 It is over, I hope ; and God's mercy to us 
 is great \ As for that man, let him go hifl 
 
 * See Note H.
 
 140 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 downward road ; we will not curse him, out 
 his blood be upon his own head !'' 
 
 " I do not know to what reward you al 
 lude," said Mr. Capel, " but I well know 
 what I am to expect from the church for my 
 recreancy. I can not expect any more indul 
 gence than has been granted to others who 
 have been forced to submit to conviction. I 
 have hidden nothing from you ; I have taken 
 the unpopular side ; it can not be from any 
 sinister motive. As there is a charge against 
 my character, I wish to hear it ; I desire to 
 know of what act of immorality I have been 
 guilty ; I ask what is to be the reward of my 
 apostasy V" 
 
 There was some whispering among the 
 brethren. Mr. Baker was very pressing with 
 one brother to get up and speak ; it was Wes 
 ley Jacobs, the local preacher, and he seemed 
 reluctant to comply with the urgency of the 
 superintendent, who now looked as if in no very 
 gracious mood. Old Father White sat aside 
 by himself, and he viewed the young man, the 
 late junior preacher, with an expression of pity. 
 " I hope no person will hesitate to accuse 
 me of what I am thought guilty ; I am here 
 to answer, and I again ask, What has been 
 my immorality, and what is to be my re 
 ward?" 
 
 Mr. Baker sprang up quite irritated, and 
 almost shouted, " You have been seen drunk 
 with a popish priest in a tavern that's the 
 immorality ; and the reward you expect for 
 your shameful desertion of the faith is an al 
 liance with the daughter of that arch-fiend, 
 Martin Mannors!" 
 
 These words, uttered quickly by the angry 
 preacher, took almost all present by surprise ; 
 the cat was let out of the bag ; a burning 
 blush mounted to Mr. Capel's cheek ; and the 
 ancient spinster, who had pertinaciously re 
 mained, gave a little scream ; but whether it 
 was caused by the abrupt accusation, or from 
 a fright occasioned by the presence of a fierce- 
 looking man, who rushed from a back seat close 
 to her side, is not certain. The man at once 
 raised his rough fist, and cried out loud 
 enough to be heard over the whole place, 
 " That's another hypocritical lie it is !" This 
 unexpected Interruption caused great confu 
 sion. Some of the brethren were for laying 
 hands on the intruder ; but when they found 
 he was not a maudlin wanderer, they pru 
 dently refrained. Mr. Baker, however, vio 
 lently demanded that constables should be 
 sent for. " This is the second time that that 
 man lias been sent here to disturb a religious 
 meeting. I say, let him be arrested." 
 
 " That's anotlier of your lies, it is. Ha ! ha I 
 you call this a religious meeting ! The last 
 time I was here it was a bedlam, and now it's 
 a shabby police-court just that. Stand off 
 iny man," said Robert to one of the brethren 
 who was approaching him, " stand off ; if you 
 come any closer, I'll yes, I will ! so keep off." 
 The brethren, rightly judging that he would 
 be perhaps as good as his word, were afraid 
 that a very discreditable scene might be 
 enacted in the house of God. Mr. Capel very 
 fortunately interfered ; he called the man 
 aside, and prevailed upon him to leave the 
 place. Robert, -vho had a great regard for Mr. 
 
 Capel, was, like others, anxious to hear what 
 
 charges were to be brought against him ; he 
 
 i was indignant when he heard Mr. Mannors 
 
 spoken of so disrespectfully. When he left 
 
 the church, at Mr. Capel's bidding, he was 
 
 ! very much inclined to believe that Mr. Baker 
 
 and many of the saints at Hampstead were 
 
 I occasionally influenced by a spiritual poten- 
 
 j tate to whom no good Christian would daro 
 
 to offer up a prayer. 
 
 Order being in a manner restored, brother 
 Wesley Jacobs, the local preacher, after some 
 pressing, said that, having heard that one or 
 two members of his class were in the habit of 
 visiting the Red Lion tavern for the purpose 
 of hearing religious discussions, as well as to 
 read skeptical books, against which he had 
 often cautioned, he went there one evening, 
 and, to his surprise, among others, saw Mr. 
 Capel sitting at a table with a strauger who 
 did not appear to be in his sober senses. 
 Upon inquiry, he found that the stranger was 
 a Catholic priest. There was a bottle on the 
 table, and each had a tumbler before him 
 which he believed contained intoxicating 
 liquor. He might have been mistaken, but 
 he thought that Mr. Capel acted rather 
 strangely unlike his ordinary way. " In 
 deed," said Mr. Jacobs, assuming to be rather 
 scrupulous, " I'm sure I can not say whether 
 he was " " Oh ! it's no matter 'tis .quite 
 sufficient," struck in Mr. Baker. " Friends, 
 you see that brother Jacobs is over-cautious ; 
 but he has told us enough or rather he has 
 privately told me enough. Just think of find 
 ing a preacher of the Gospel sitting in a low 
 tavern, side by side with a popish priest, 
 and not, as I have discovered, one of the most 
 abstemious ! To make a companion of an or 
 dained agent of the man of sin, even if he 
 were as sober as Father Mathew, would be 
 bad enough ; but to be on intimate terms with 
 one whose propensities are notorious, what is 
 the inference ?" 
 
 " This, then, I am to understand as my act 
 of immorality. Well, I was present at the 
 time and place mentioned by Mr. Jacobs ; and, 
 were it of any avail to bring witnesses here, 
 I could prove that neither 1 nor the gentle 
 man mentioned was in any worse state than 
 I am at present ; but where charity is want 
 ing, evidence will have little effect. I had 
 been out in the country all that day with the 
 Rev. Mr McGlinn, and accepted his invitation 
 to take dinner, on our return, at the Red 
 Lion ; when there, we partook of nothing 
 stronger than ale. If this act is sufficient to 
 justify the charge, then I am guilty. As a 
 matter of duty to myself and to others, I have 
 attended here in obedience to your summons. 
 I shall not reply to the offensive liberty taken 
 as to my motives for disbelief. If Mr. Baker 
 can conscientiously sustain the course he has 
 pursued toward me and others, then I can not 
 expect strict justice before his tribunal. 1 shall 
 make no appeal against any decision he may 
 recommend, but will now retire." 
 
 Just as he got outside the door, Father 
 White, who followed him, seized his hand, 
 and, with tears in his eyes, said, " Well, 
 brother, you, I suppose, leave us forever ; I 
 can not think that you are wil'fnl in opposing
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 141 
 
 an ancient creea , \ou believe you are right, 
 I am sure you do." He kept his eyes fixed on 
 the ground, and was silent for a moment, as 
 if troubled, by some rebellious thought, and 
 then, almost in a whisper, added, " You may 
 be right, but it is too late for me now to think 
 of these things ! For long years I have made 
 religion my staff, my hope, and my light. I 
 may linger here a few more winters, but I can 
 not, at. the eleventh hour, give up the lamp I 
 have held so long ; and though its light may 
 appear feeble to you, I must now bear it with 
 me to the grave." 
 
 Among the records made nt the quarterly 
 meeting that evening, there was one to show 
 that Henry Capel, late junior preacher on the 
 Ilampsfead circuit, was expelled from the 
 membership of the Wesleyan Methodist 
 Church for " Immorality," and this was at 
 tested by the rough, cramped signature of 
 " James Baker, Chairman." 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 THE autumn had passed away, and the fee 
 ble ray of an evening sunlight in November 
 rested upon the window near which Mary 
 Mannors was sitting. She had been engaged 
 for some time making alterations in a drjss, 
 and the heavy folds of crape which wore 
 added gave no token of returning cheerfulness. 
 There was no formal or conventional " put 
 ting on" of that which she did not feel ; her 
 deep black raiment truly indicated the grief 
 which was around her own heart. 
 
 As the, light grew less, she ceased her work, 
 and looked up at the cold, gray sky, and at 
 the shadows which were stretching over the 
 distant hills, and over the bare, brown fields, 
 and bending down as if to rest and remain 
 over the dim city. It was from this very win 
 dow that, some months before, her mother 
 was awed by the appearance of the shining 
 cross ; and now, as Mary looked in the direc 
 tion of St. Paul's, she could just distinguish 
 the same object, faintly brightened by the 
 waning sunset. 
 
 Alas! what a reverie that glimpse brought 
 her 1 Every phase of her mother's mind, 
 every illusion, every event, culminating 
 in insanity and in death a grave in Hamp- 
 stt-ad cemetery, and a prison asylum, per 
 haps for life ! She looked care-worn and pale, 
 as if the trials of years had been crowdo i 
 into months. Tiie c >ursn of her lite had 
 bsjen aim >st completely altered ; she had new 
 duties to perform, whicli she undertook cheer 
 fully ; she could IK; reconciled to the sad be 
 reavement and affliction, but the scandal which 
 had b^-en uttered against her father, and the 
 uncharitable insinuations of the pharisaical 
 grieved her sorely. Her mother had been 
 for some time in a private asylum ; in her case, 
 alas! there was no room for hope; the best 
 advice in London had been obtained, but no 
 skill could induce any improvement. 
 
 Well, among other passing thoughts al 
 ternate vistas of the memory, dark and bright 
 it was possible, or rather probable, that she 
 hould think of Mr. Capel, he who had been 
 
 with them for so many months. Ah me ! for 
 how many pleasant days whose stay had 
 been so agreeable; who had been so like a 
 brother ; and whose good, kind, generous 
 disposition had so won the esteem of those 
 who knew him best. She did think of him; 
 she was aware of his change of opinion, of 
 his expulsion, and of the discreditable at 
 tempts made to injure his reputation and af 
 fect his prospects for life. She knew of these, 
 and, could he learn the great depth of her 
 sympathy for him, how cheerfully he would 
 have borne every reproach, and braved every 
 enmity to live and gain her favor. But 
 there was another reason why her thoughts 
 now reverted to him she was even troubled 
 he was soon going to return to Ireland, to 
 leave them, perhaps, forever. He had too much 
 spirit to remain any longer like a depen 
 dent upon her father, more particularly as the 
 busy tongues of Mr. Baker and some of the 
 brethren had attributed his change of faith 
 as well as his protracted stay at llampstead 
 cottage to a certain motive. For this reason 
 he had left the residence of Mr. Mannors, and 
 since his almost ex-parte trial had been stay 
 ing with his friend, Father McUlinn ; under 
 such peculiar circumstances, it would not, 
 therefore, be prudent to press him to remain 
 at Hampstead. 
 
 Mary might not have been told all this, but 
 she suspected something of the kind and she 
 appreciated his delicate consideration. She 
 believed he was poor ; she knew he had no 
 profession, trade, or occupation perhaps no 
 well-to-do relatives willing to aid him ; and, 
 in imagination, she followed him from place to 
 place in his wanderings fora position of some 
 kind; she knew how soon an evil word would 
 bear against him. The Watchman, the Metho 
 dist organ, had already given its warning to 
 the faithful ; she knew he would have the scorn 
 and rebuke of the godly and the suspicion of 
 the formalist. She fancied him buffeted 
 about by misfortune poor, and friendless, 
 and hopeless until at last he sunk in despair, 
 i,u- ting the fate of a thousand others. She 
 then wondered, as she often did before, why 
 she should be s:> troubled about a comparative 
 stranger; she shrank from the thought of 
 making him one, she could not look upon 
 him as such ; she, as yet, scarcely understood 
 her own feelings toward him, though they 
 were a fresh cause of anxiety ; yet, s ich aa 
 they were, she felt a kind of pleasure in their 
 indulgence; and now she S;it considering how 
 she could be of benefit to him, how she, jioor 
 thing! unskilled in the rough matters of life, 
 could advatice his future prospects; she did 
 not want to see, him borne out into the great 
 contending crowd, and pss away forever. 
 
 By what means could she introduce the 
 subject to her father ? What a relief it would 
 be could she speak her m!n.l to him fully and 
 freely as in other matters, and tell him of her 
 fears, and of the mountain of pious prejudice 
 that would lie in the wanderer's way. How 
 could she enlist him to act in behalf of that 
 young man ? But alas ! she could not frame 
 the m ist simple speech for her father's ear ; she 
 could find ready words for any one else, for the 
 greatest stranger, but not for Henry Capel
 
 142 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 why not for liim? To find a proper answer 
 for her own plain query caused her great em 
 barrassment. 
 
 Mr. Manners might have thought of the 
 future prospects of his young friend, and most 
 probably did. He was one of those who nat 
 urally anticipated the wants of others, and 
 tried to provide for them ; he was among the 
 least selfish of the earth. 
 
 He perhaps knew that Mr. Capel had no re 
 sources, and he might have laid some plan for 
 his advantage ; but any thing he did. or inten 
 ded to do, in this respect, he kept entirely to 
 himself. Though his affliction was heavy, 
 and though the tongue of scandal was busy, 
 yet his old cheerful manner remained ; and 
 lie tried to lighten the burden of others, hid 
 ing the care which was so weighty to himself. 
 As for Mary, no daughter could have been 
 more dutiful or affectionate ; his first desire 
 was to promote her happiness, and, as she was 
 all now to him, he was determined to do every 
 thing in his power to make her future as 
 bright and as free from the bleak shadows of 
 adversity as possible. 
 
 Mr. Manners had the faculty of judging cha 
 racter almost at a glance. In an inquiry, he 
 fixed his mild gray eye upon you, and if there 
 was any wavering from strict integrity, if 
 there was any lurking deceit, he knew it at 
 once. It would be very difficult for one who 
 was a pretender to escape detection at his 
 hands. Now, Mr. Capel had been as one of 
 his family for several months, and from the 
 first hour that he entered the cottage, Mr. 
 Mannors was impressed in his favor as being 
 worthy of all confidence ; and, day after day, 
 as the character and disposition of the young 
 preacher became more developed, to much the 
 more was that confidence in him established. 
 Indeed, it was one of Mrs. Mannors's peculiar 
 enjoyments to hear her husband commend a 
 minister ot the Gospel as he did Mr. Capel ; 
 and every one in Hampstead cottage seemed 
 to anticipate with pleasure his return from 
 the circuit. Such regard did not escape the 
 observation of Mr. Mannors ; and he rightly 
 judged that one so gentle and confiding, yet 
 so discriminating as his daughter, could not 
 be less appreciative. He was a close obser 
 ver, and for some time he noticed symptoms, 
 the least of which, he thought, indicated that 
 deep down in poor Mary's heart there was a 
 feeling which she tried to hide even from her 
 self and from all others ; but of this he was 
 determined to be more fully assured. 
 
 " Well, Mary," said Mr. Mannors, entering 
 1h dusky room, "so we are going to lose Mr. 
 Capel ; 1 have just come in to say that he will 
 call here to-morrow to bid us adieu. How 
 eorry I am for this 1 I was very much pleased 
 with his society, and few indeed will miss 
 him as I shall. He tells me that he is going 
 at once to Ireland. I question much if he 
 well knows what he is going there for ; how 
 ever, it seems best to him, and though we 
 may never see him again, I shall always 
 remember him as deserving of my highest re 
 gard. I am sure we shall all regret his depar 
 ture. I had hopes that the pleasing acquaint 
 ance we had formed would bave continued for 
 years ; what a pity that our intimacy should 
 
 be so short ! Thus it is, Pop ; they will leave 
 us one by one ; one to-day and another to- 
 morrow, and you and I are to be left alone." 
 
 How fortunate it was for her that the dim 
 light prevented her father from observing the 
 sudden pallor that blanched her check and 
 brow ! She could have fallen, but made a 
 powerful effort to cling to the chair ; as for 
 words, she could find no utterance the effort 
 to articulate seemed to chcke her. What 
 would she not have then given to Le 
 alone ? 
 
 " How cold your forehead is, child ; and so 
 are your cheeks." He passed his hand tender 
 ly over her face and head, and she shrunk back 
 at the touch. " Why, you almost tremble ! 
 Mary, you must, I fear, be ill." 
 
 She could just reply, "Indeed, pa, I feel 
 quite well, only perhaps a little chilly. Don't 
 you find the room very cold V" and she moved 
 away from the open door. 
 
 " No, not particularly so ; not for me, at least. 
 You have been too much confined lately ; after 
 this, we must walk or drive out oftener. Since 
 Mr. Capel lett the house, you have been out 
 very seldom. I have, 1 fear, been too negli 
 gent ; but I will take you again over some of 
 his favorite drives ; it will renew him in our 
 memory at least it will in mine when he is 
 far away, poor fellow !" 
 
 That sad heart was again fluttering, beat 
 ing, bounding, but it would not do for Mary 
 to be silent ; oh ! what a struggle to appear 
 calm ; her mute anguish could have been elo 
 quent in tears, but she dare not weep, she 
 must now speak. " He leaves to-morrow, then, 
 does he, pa '!" said she, trying to assume a tone 
 of indifference. " Well, I'm sure we shall all 
 be very sorry. He may not be back again, you 
 think ?" 
 
 " No, I don't suppose he ever expects to re 
 turn ; he has no tie here ; save our sympathy, 
 he can have no inducement to remain. The 
 Methodists are now his bitter enemies, and 
 you know the slander of the godly is the most 
 defamatory. He may, perhaps, think of going 
 to America or to Australia, to any place where 
 he may not be known as an apostate preacher. 
 What a shame that he should be driven, for 
 conscience' sake, like an Ishmael, away from 
 home and fnends ; but alas I he has no home, 
 and where are his friends?" 
 
 " Neither home nor friends ! that is very 
 sad, pa," said she, with tremulous voice. She 
 could hnrdly control her feelings; she would 
 have gladly rushed into her father's arms, and 
 have wept and pleaded for the dear friend 
 who was about to be cast out upon the world ; 
 but that dreadful, unnatural restraint kept 
 her back, that uncontrollable influence which 
 would now make her appear so different from 
 what she really WHS ; she still sat like a statue, 
 merely repeating the bleak monosyllables. 
 " No home nor friends !" 
 
 " Well, child, he is still young, and, though 
 going out alone upon the stormy sea of life, 
 like a bark into a tempest, he may yet reach 
 some favored port, and find those who may 
 learn to esteem him. I have no doubt of his 
 success ; it will be gratifying to hear of this. 
 We shall see him to-morrow, and learn more 
 of his intentions." And Mr. Mannors, having
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 145 
 
 
 gome business to transact, kissed his daughter's 
 forehead, and bid her good-night. 
 
 Wlien he entered his own room, he paced it 
 backward and for ward for some time, in deep 
 thought ; he then sat at his desk and drew 
 from it a parchment, which he carefully read 
 over ; afterward he wrote two or three long 
 letters, and then retired. 
 
 Poor Mary, left alone, sat for hours at the 
 window ; watching the glimmer of distant 
 lights and looking up at the great black 
 night-clouds, moving slowly over the leafless 
 trees. Slie listened to every sound, as if an 
 ticipating some farewell step passing through 
 the garden ; and then, with her face almost 
 touching the glass, she peered out into the 
 darkness, like one watching for a brigl.it star 
 w cheer the rayless night. Like her father, 
 she delighted in thinking and suggesting for 
 the good of others ; but now she was unable 
 to shape any idea lot the benefit of him she 
 was so anxious to serve ; and, totally failing 
 in this, she, perhaps for the first time in her 
 life, began to think of her own future. 
 
 The cruel morning came at last ; a cold, 
 drizzling rain had set in for some time, and the 
 melancholy season imparted deeper gloom to 
 every thing in and around llampstead. Tiie 
 old clock in the church tower struck the hours, 
 and the sound rt-ached the ear like a distant 
 wail not like the full, clear, ringing tone it 
 often gave in happier days. The trees in the 
 small park stood up like a long row of silent 
 mourners awaiting a great funeral, and an 
 air of sadness seemed to pervade all. Even 
 the very children who ventured to rush out 
 into the splashy, guttered highways were 
 discouraged from play by the chill, dreary 
 hky, and ran back again to the more cheerful 
 iireside. 
 
 Mr. Mannors awaited his expected friend ; 
 he sat in the parlor lookiug over the morning 
 paper, and Mary, Avith. pale face and beating 
 heart, went briskly from room to room, bust 
 ling about as if she had scarcely a minute to sit 
 and think of any thing in particular. Hannah , 
 who had been for some time on the look-out 
 for the visitor, was rather surprised at her 
 unusual diligence ; and as Mary occasionally 
 passed her lather, he would raise his eyes from 
 the paper, and look thoughtfully after her, as if 
 .11 doubt of his own penetration. 
 
 About eleven o'clock a carriage drove up 
 to the gate ; a small trunk was fastened be- 
 lund, and two persons alighted. Robert, who 
 was in waiting, warmly shook Mr. Capel's 
 proffered hand, and bowed to the Kev. Mr. 
 MctHinn, as he followed his friend toward 
 the house. Mr. Mannors received them both 
 at the door ; and Mary quickly left the room, 
 in the hope of being able to get a moment or 
 two to compose hers If, and to try and wear 
 a look the very opposite of what she felt. 
 
 " Well, my friend," said Mr. McGlinn, "you 
 see I have brought the truant back again. 
 I suppose," said he, looking archly at Mr. Ca- 
 j>el, " that he would have been inclined to take 
 French leave, if 1 had not kept my eye on him. 
 I know he hates leave-taking, and for some 
 reason, he, I think, particularly disliked to 
 pay such a pro forma visit here. You see 
 nothing will do him but ' go back,' as the 
 
 Irish say, to the ' ould sod,' and show his \.\ 
 ing countrymen the>S'/i Beuitu which FaMw 
 Baker, one of the Wesleyan popes, has thrown 
 upon his shoulders. Faith, such an invest 
 ment has the sanction of my church, any 
 how ; the good ould Christian way of decora 
 tion, so as a heretic migiit look a little more 
 decent on his high-road to the well, I won't 
 say what in polite company. 'Twas a bless 
 ing in disguise, i suppose ; ha, ha ! much good 
 may it do you, Harry, any way ! ' 
 
 " Indeed," said Mr. Capel, " I could never 
 think of leaving England without calling here 
 to acknowledge my obligations to one of the 
 kindest friends I ever met. 1 can truly say 
 that the period of my stay at Hampatead has 
 been one of the most agreeable of my life one 
 that 1 shall forever remember, with pleasure." 
 
 " Now don't say any thing about obliga 
 tions," said Mr. Mannors, " or you will make 
 me your debtor. Mary," said he, as his daugh 
 ter entered the room, " here is Mr. Capel, ac 
 tually come to bid us farewell. I am sorry, 
 very sorry for this ; I wish we could keep him 
 longer, for it may be some time before we all 
 meet again." 
 
 Mr. Capel's cheek was flushed as he looked 
 at Mary ; he was surprised at the change ; he 
 had not seen her for several days, and now he 
 perceived a sad alteration. 
 
 She was dressed in deep black ; there was 
 an expression of care upon her pale face 
 which he had never noticed before. The de 
 light, ul vivacity of her nature had given 
 way, aud traces of subdued grief were still 
 apparent in her sweet submission. She sat 
 near him on tae sola, and while her father and 
 the kind priest held a conversation, she ven 
 tured to tell Mr. Capel that siie hoped he 
 would enjoy himself in Ireland ; she supposed 
 he had friends there whom he was anxious to 
 meet alter so long a separation. 
 
 " If you mean relatives, Miss Mannors, I 
 really can not say whether I shall find any 
 now willing to acknowledge me. I know of 
 none who wish my return ; they are, any that 
 I know of, strict church members. I am un 
 der a bun. I would like to see my native city ; 
 but I never shall forget Hainpstead and the 
 few friends I leave behind." 
 
 She would have liked to hint that there 
 migiit be other friends. Some particular one, 
 pernaps, whose attractive power could hurry 
 him away even from his good friend the 
 priest, but she could not trust herself with 
 Words. There was no way in which she could 
 venture to communicate any of the thoughts 
 which disturbed her, or make herself under 
 stood. The embarrassment in this respect 
 was mutual ; and after talking, as it wero, m 
 a circle for some time upon indifferent mat 
 ters as remo>e as possible from the subject 
 nearest the heart there was an unpleas 
 ant pause, and either would have given a 
 world to be able to make the least revelation 
 or to obtain one word of encouragement. But 
 the golden moments flew by ; though each at 
 the tune considered them as moments of des 
 tiny, they were allowed to pass without im 
 provement, and inexorable fate seemed to 
 have fixed an eternal seal upon their separa 
 tion.
 
 144 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 "Time is nearly up, Harry," said Father 
 M'Glinn he often used this familiarity, and 
 called him Harry " time is nearly up ; the 
 Cork packet starts at six ; we have yet to drive 
 to the city, and to call upon Tom, Dick, and 
 Harry ; and, even if we spend but half an hour 
 vvitli each, it will give me little enough time 
 afterward to exorcise you and give you the 
 benefit of my poor blessing. Friend Baker, 
 you know," said he, turning to Mr. Mannors, 
 " says that Harry is possessed. Ha ! ha !" 
 
 " Possessed of more charity, no doubt," said 
 Mr. Mannors. " Well, he leaves Hampstead, 
 and we all regret it ; don't we, Pop ? But 
 he leaves the limited round he lately traveled 
 for that far more extensive circuit the wide 
 world. I trust he will henceforth preach 
 the common brotherhood of all nations, and 
 the great gospel of humanity;" 
 
 " Faith, that is the real true gospel you 
 have me with you there ! It is the one I best 
 understand ; it requires no learned commen 
 tators to make it plain. There are no sects in 
 humanity, no mercenary piety, nor heartless 
 inquisitors. It is the great creed for all man 
 kind ! What a change that gospel will bring ! 
 Do not look surprised ; Harry knows that I am 
 in a strait, but I am not the only ecclesiastic 
 that is prepared to stand uncovered before the 
 altar of reason. Yes, I am in a singular po 
 sition ; but I will soon have my liberty. The 
 dawn is coming, and we shall soon be sur 
 prised at the multitudes who will move out 
 into the sunlight ; thousands who now tim 
 idly hide within the shadow of superstition 
 long to see that day. When that pure gospel 
 shall have been preached, we will have moral 
 ity without creeds, reform without cruelty, 
 national amity without threats ; the priest, 
 and the soldier, and the executioner must dis 
 appear with other concomitants of Christian 
 civilization. You must," said he, addressing 
 Mr. Capel, " go on and not be easily discour 
 aged. He who attempts to reform an abuse 
 must expect calumny. If you attack an anti 
 quated imposition, you are sure to be waylaid 
 by the prejudiced and interested. They who 
 love truth not they who live godly must 
 suffer persecution. Take courage, and let 
 your light shine, for even now there is a 
 growing principle that will uphold the right." 
 
 Mr. Mannors then handed him a email 
 package which he said contained one or two 
 l.-tters of introduction to old friends in Ireland, 
 and a few words of advice from himself, which 
 he was to read upon his arrival in that coun 
 try. 
 
 The parting glass of wine was then taken, 
 and tears rushed into the eyes of Mr. Mannors 
 as lie took his friend's hand to assure him of 
 nis unalterable friendship. Father Tom had 
 i, > cough and strut smartly about to hide his 
 emotion ; and Mr. Capel, as he looked out 
 upon the gsirden-walks, and around the fami 
 liar walls, and then upon Mary's pale face, it 
 might be, lie thought, for the last time, felt 
 his heart almost give way, and he had to hur 
 ry out of the house somewhat abruptly to es 
 cape an uuer breaking down. 
 
 in the hall stood Robert and the good Han 
 nah, holding her apron to her eyes; and 
 Flounce sat thoughtfully by her side, perhaps 
 
 thinking of his young master who but a 
 short time before had left them forever. 
 
 All assembled to bid Mr. Capel a kind fare- 
 well ; even the old clock, near the door, ap 
 peared in waiting like an ancient retainer, its 
 pendulum swinging to and fro, as if waving 
 adieu to passing time. 
 
 When Mr. Capel and Father Tom left the 
 hospitable home of Mv. Mannors and drove 
 away in the dreary mist, poor Mary hurried 
 up to her window and watched the receding 
 carriage. Oh ! how eagerly she followed it ; 
 and as it grew less and less in the distance, 
 she strained her eyes to still keep it in view ; 
 and when at last it was buried in the Novem 
 ber gloom, she threw herself on her couch and 
 burst into tears. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 THE REV. DOCTOR BUSTER sat alone in his 
 study ; he had been reading the morning pa 
 per, and had just laid it aside. Snow-flakes 
 were falling and melting in the muddy streets ; 
 and as the weather was not sufficiently 
 tempting to induce him to leave the cheerful 
 fireplace, either for study or private prayer, he 
 made amends by refilling a long clay pipe, 
 and then, elevating his feet on the sides of the 
 grate, leaned back in his easy-chair, puffed 
 away leisurely, and seemed for a time only in 
 tent upon watching the ascent of the little 
 whirling clouds of smoke which he blew out 
 in long gray lines toward the chimney. He 
 looked very thoughtful ; now surveying the 
 grotesque forms into which his fancy shaped 
 the glowing coals, now glancing at the array 
 of authors quietly ranged around on the 
 loaded book-shelves, as if awaiting his com 
 mand to jump down in defense of the faith ; 
 once or twice he paused to listen to passing 
 footsteps, and then resumed his cogitations. 
 
 Was he thinking of his next sermon ? 
 Pshaw! that was not in his line ; he had, like 
 other distinguished divines, a pile of the most 
 select and orthodox discourses laid away, suffi 
 cient to last for a lifetime, should he require 
 them. Indeed, Irs mind was not just then alto 
 gether bent on heavenly matters; generally, 
 there was a large proportion of the earthly in 
 gredient mixed up with his contemplations ; 
 but at the present moment things terrestrial 
 were entirely running through his brain, and 
 things spiritual were perhaps judiciously laid 
 aside for a more convenient season. 
 
 The most notable and exemplary Christian 
 ministers have occasionally to descend to 
 worldly affairs ; human passions or emotions 
 may not have been sufficiently subdued. Sec 
 ular contamination has, alas! too often dis 
 tracted the attention of many a saint, and the 
 reverend doctor, like others of the " sncre*! 
 calling," was often forced to turn his consid 
 eration exclusively to the weak, beggarly ele 
 ments of the world, and to become harassed 
 and agitated by the perishable things of timo 
 and sense. His religion never yet came to tho 
 rescue; as a frail man, he grew more frail, 
 until vileness was a characteristic ; he could 
 never learn to love an enemy, or even to for 
 give one ; and dreadful thoughts of hatred,
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 145 
 
 
 revenge, and blood alternately overwhelmed 
 and controlled his impulses. 
 
 Minute after minute passed ; at times, he 
 would mutter and frown darkly, as he gazed 
 at the red bars he never smiled when he was 
 alone and he would turn frequently and look 
 out as if exasperated at the disagreeable 
 weather, which perhaps helped to detain him 
 within that dull house. 
 
 After a ti 11115 he got up, and, having 
 nocked the ashes from his pipe, went and 
 unlocked a small cupboard, took out a decan 
 ter of brandy, and, having nearly half-filled a 
 tumbler, drunk it off at once, without reduc 
 ing its prime strength with any admixture of 
 pure water. He then commenced to pace the 
 room, and would often stop at the window to 
 look down the sloppy street, as if anxious to 
 see some one approach, or as if expecting a 
 visitor. 
 
 " Curse the brat ! it is now nearly eleven," 
 said he, pulling out his massive gold watch ; 
 " does he intend to keep me here all day ? he 
 must have got my note." And again the doc 
 tor looked up and down the street, growing at 
 the same time more and more impatient. 
 
 A tap was now heard at a private door 
 which led from the study into a small yard 
 connecting with a back lane or alley. The 
 doctor gently lifted a corner of the blind of 
 the window which looked out into this place, 
 and cautiously peered from behind it. In a 
 moment he unbolted the door, and Mrs. Pink- 
 ley, well muffled up, entered. 
 
 "Ah Fanny! is it you?" and he actually 
 hurried to hug the hidden form. " I did not 
 expect you until evening. Any news ?" said 
 he, rubbing his hands together briskly, and 
 drawing a chair for her toward the fire. 
 
 " Why, you've been away so long, doctor, 
 I thought I'd drop in as soon as I could, when 
 I heerd you was back. We've been busy at 
 the Home lately, and as I had a chance, I 
 thought I'd run in. My ! but it's a nasty day," 
 Haid the lady, deliberately shaking her cloak, 
 and placing it on the back of her chair. 
 
 " My visitation was much longer than I 
 expected ; I al ways have so many grumbling 
 pastors to satisfy, so much petty jealousy to 
 get rid of. Confound them, they are the most 
 hard to please ; and then there are so many 
 disputes among congregations, that one's time 
 is greatly taken up. Any way, I wanted to 
 be out of the city for a while, though one or 
 two weeks are not long passing. But tell me, 
 what's the news? I've been expecting 'Bross 
 all the morning. I sent him a line last eve 
 ning to drop in to-day on his way to the office. 
 I'm better pleased to see you any way; Fanny 
 draw closer to the fire." 
 
 " Oh ! them clerks, you know, doctor, haven't 
 always their own time at command. In fact, 
 neither have I, just now ; but, any way, I 
 thought I'd call and tell you about the chil 
 dren.'' 
 
 " I'm satisfied enough about them, as long 
 as they are under your charge ; they are well 
 enough, I suppose you'll see to that, Fanny ; 
 but what of their good mother? the same 
 old story, I expect." 
 
 " Weil, just about the same," said Mrs. 
 Pinkley, with a careless air. 
 
 " Ay, 'twill be so to the end of the chapter 
 and I wish it were ended long ago ; what a 
 curse she is, to be sure !" And the venom that 
 glistened under his bushy eyebrow, as he 
 glanced meaningly at his companion, brought 
 the least smile to the surface of the red face 
 of the amiable Mrs. Pinkley. 
 
 " Things may soon come right," said she, 
 giving a little cough. " Dr. Marks is very kind 
 to her somehow very kind ; but yet " 
 
 " But yet the devil!" said the doctor, now 
 rising and stamping angrily upon the hearth. 
 " I told him more than a dozen times I want 
 ed no mild work with her ; what is she good 
 for ? what is her vile life to me ? He knows 
 what I want well enough. Does the fool 
 expect me to commit myself to pen, ink, and 
 paper? You must see to this, Fanny you 
 must help me. If Dr. Marks wishes to make 
 his patronized Home, his famous Maiiton de 
 S<mte, more popular at my expense, lie will 
 find his mistake. I was a fool to send her 
 there ; we might have managed better, far bet 
 ter here, ourselves. If he can't serve me, oth 
 ers will. I'll see to this." 
 
 " Patience, doctor," said Mrs. Pinkley, 
 with the mildest voice possible. " Things, 
 you know, can't be done in a hurry, even 
 there. Dr. Marks will never do what you 
 want never. Take care how you approach 
 him on a matter of life and death ! The Home 
 is popular, and he intends to keep it so. You 
 and I understand eacli other ; then have noth 
 ing to say to Dr. Marks about that. I have a 
 great charge ; he trusts me with many of his 
 patients, and I can not be too cautions for a 
 while. Whom can /trust in that place ? I can 
 catch staring eyes and listening ears in every 
 corner ; better take time ; better, far better, 
 have her under Marks than where you would 
 send her. There are few inquests held over 
 his 'dead ; no suspicion, no detectives on the 
 hunt, no hue and cry in the papers ; he man 
 ages all that. Coine, what do you say ?" 
 
 The doctor's face grew livid ; there was 
 something in the imperturbable manner of 
 the woman that fairly awed him, savage as 
 he even then was. He looked steadily at the 
 fire for a few moments without opening his 
 lips. Then, laying his hand affectionately 
 upon the lady's shoulder, lie said : " Yes, bet 
 ter take time ; you're right, Fanny, you're 
 right. I am too rash ; I will leave this busi 
 ness to you ; but when I think of what I have 
 suffered by that wretch, I only wish that we 
 had another Laud, and another Star-Chamber. 
 Well, tell me, what of that Hampstead ruf 
 fian ; have you heard any thing ?" 
 
 " Only there's been such a precious row 
 among the Methodist saints ; brother Baker, 
 one of your kind friends, has excommunicated 
 brother Capel, and Mrs. Mannors's household 
 chaplain has left for parts unknown some 
 say for Ireland." 
 
 "Ha! ha! ha!" The doctor gave a loud 
 sardonic laugh, and again rubbed his hands 
 with positive delight. " The infernal hypo 
 crites ! I did hear some time ago that Capel, 
 an Irish apostle, was imported for the special 
 purpose of converting that fiend. Convert 
 him ; good God ! To send a smooth-faced 
 milk-sop to convert Mannore! He'd maka
 
 146 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 perverts of a dozen such empty fools, of 
 course, with the assistance of his virtuous 
 daughter." There was a scowl on the doc 
 tor's face whenever it was turned toward 
 Hampstead. 
 
 " You've heerd, I suppose, about his mad 
 wife ; about the raving Methodist saint ? 
 Them revivals are a help to Dr. Marks." 
 
 " Oh ! ' yes," said the doctor, chuckling ; 
 "the meek Martin knows something of bed 
 lam now as well as his neighbors; ha! ha! 
 They tell me that that Jezebel he keeps in 
 the house with him only wore a religious 
 mask, like other Methodists, to effect her pur 
 poses. Hannah, I think they call her, pro- 
 fes>ed to be one of the church militant, and 
 her simple mistress was enraptured with her 
 for a time, until she found out which way the 
 wind blew ; no wonder she had her brain 
 turned. But tell me. Fanny," said he, sud 
 denly recollecting and looking at her intent 
 ly, "how can the Methodist revivals help 
 Dr. Marks ; how, tell me ?" He seemed anxious 
 for a reply. 
 
 She was silent a moment or two, as if pon 
 dering thoughtfully upon her answer ; she 
 then slowly bent over and whispered some 
 thing in his ear. 
 
 As if stung by an adder, he sprang from 
 his chair and stared wildly and savagely at 
 the woman before him. But she never quailed 
 like the poor creature he had so often abused ; 
 she returned his gaze as calmly as if some 
 pleasing notion were then passing through 
 her brain. 
 
 " God of heaven !" exclaimed he at last ; 
 "is it possible?" He couid only then utter 
 these passionate words. 
 
 " Just as I tell you ; she is there, she is with 
 us at the Home, as comfortable as heart could 
 wish." And 'Mrs. Pinkley's little smile was 
 again making its appearance, as if she had 
 communicated the most agreeable informa 
 tion. 
 
 " Heavens and earth ! the fellow must be 
 mad raving mad," roared the doctor, in a 
 perfect fury. " Gracious Saviour ! well, may 
 the eternal " 
 
 " Oh ! fie. fie !" quickly interrupted Mrs. Pink- 
 ley, and laying her hand upon his shoulder, 
 " Don't swear, doctor, don't swear, even in my 
 presence ; 'tisn't worth your while ; tut, tut, 'tis 
 but a trifle." And she met his angry eye with 
 the most provoking amiability. 
 
 " Let me go, woman, let me go," said he, step 
 ping back, pale and wild with rage. " Did 
 you come here only to bring me this damned 
 information? Did you come here to bid me 
 curse you, and him, and every body ? Did 
 you come to hurry me on faster and faster to 
 misery? Have I not been harassed enough 
 with that living devil which you will keep 
 alive ? Are you in league with that fool, that 
 imbecile, that knave, to say that you can re 
 main with him after he has almost betrayed 
 me by accepting as a patient the very wife 
 of my greatest and most dangerous enemy, 
 Martin Manners ? Just think of his demented 
 Methodist wife raving her unmeaning prayers 
 alongside of mine ; just think of the same 
 treacnerous, incorrigible infidel walking in 
 and out of that place daily, and then making 
 
 his grand discovery. Did you come here, like 
 a Job's comforter, to tell me of this ?" 
 
 She did not even then condescend a reply ; 
 she seemed like a physiologist in a study 
 over some inferior animal ; she watched the 
 expression of his face and eye, and then 
 glanced at his nervous, twitching fingers, as if 
 she expected to & e him suddenly grasp some- 
 thir.g. and tear it to pieces 
 
 " I came here partly for that purpose, and 
 if I didn't tell you, how could you find it out, 
 eh? You might go in and out there every 
 hour of the day and be none the wiser, it' I 
 did not stay with Dr. Marks, either as a clay 
 or night attendant, he might be inclined to 
 fancy your good wife quite restored, and 
 within less than a month she might walk 
 out, sensible of her own wrongs and armed 
 with the" laic. How would that please you, 
 doctor V" said she, still studying every 
 rough feature. " You are a great man in the 
 pulpit ; you have great influence in the 
 General Assembly ; but, la me ! what a simple 
 ton I have found you a perfect child in some 
 things a great big buzzing fly, that would 
 be entangled in many a skillful web if I did 
 not put in my finger and take you out." 
 When saying this, she gently placed her fore 
 finger within the angle of the wall, as if in 
 the act of rescuing a veritable blue-bottle. 
 
 " This," continued she, " has been so for 
 years ; you overrate your influence with many. 
 Dr. Marks won't be caught ; he won't leave 
 himself in your power, or in mine, or in the 
 power of any body else. As you desired it, he 
 allows me to attend upon your wife ; of course, 
 I make my daily report, and he believes she 
 is a little crazy just a little only so little, 
 that she would be out, yes, out, before now if it 
 hadn't been for now, who do you think ? 
 And you would curse me for serving you this 
 way, would you ?" 
 
 The cool, collected Mrs. Pinkley moved back 
 and surveyed him with a feeling akin to SCOIT, 
 as he kept demurely near the window, frown 
 ing out at the massive black clouds away in 
 the distance. 
 
 " Do you think," she again paid, " that Dr. 
 Marks would refuse patients merely to please 
 your whim? He wants money as well as 
 others, and he couldn't afford it. There may 
 be fifty patients in together, and not one know 
 the other ; and fifty different fathers, or mo 
 thers, or husbands may call to visit, and not 
 find out that their next door neighbor was 
 there under treatment. I have been there now 
 for some time, and as yet don't hardly know 
 who's who ; I have tried to find out secrets in 
 that place, but, sharp as I think I am, I often get 
 completely foiled ; I told you there were eyes 
 and ears all around." 
 
 " Then how did you learn that Mrs. Man 
 nors was one of the ornaments of the institu 
 tion ; you did not know her before ; perhaps 
 you are so fortunate as to have control of the re 
 ligious department ; perhaps Marks has great 
 faith in your prayers ?" said Doctor Buster sar 
 castically. 
 
 " I knew that she was there, because I saw 
 her husband call on more than one occasion, 
 and I soon found out his errand." 
 
 " Then he found out you ; no doubt ha
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 147 
 
 quickly ascertained the full value of your in- 
 Juspensable services, in case his wife should 
 want consolation," sharply retorted the doc 
 tor. 
 
 " There again you're mistaken ; he has 
 never laid eyes on ine since 1 managed to 
 bring you and him together at Tottenham 
 Court road ; you tioii't forget that I put you 
 in possession of his letter to your wife?" 
 
 " 1 remember." 
 
 " \Veli, it's a wonder you do. I am not so 
 simple as to let him recognize me since that. 
 1 have watched his coining, and kept clear of 
 him. What if you were in my place? Good 
 L>rdl what a mess you'd make of it. I'll 
 take care of Martin Mannors. You induced 
 me to enter Dr. Marks's service ; if I leave, so 
 will your wife. Then you may go, for you 
 will be undone." 
 
 It is said that certain powerful and raven 
 ous beasts have often been controlled by weak 
 and insignificant animals. The lion may 
 entertain a partiality for a poodle dog, and 
 indulge its gambols, and he may suffer his 
 flowing mane to be pulled and tugged at 
 with impunity. Whatever the nature of Mrs. 
 Piukley's influence over the doctor might be, 
 it was evident that she, as the weaker vessel, 
 had almost absolute rule ; he submitted to her 
 when it might be dangerous in a measure for 
 any one else to approach him ; and when his 
 temper at times grew savage, she had only to 
 s,>eak, or rebuke, or threaten in her own way, 
 and he became as docile as a child. 
 
 " Fanny," said the doctor now, in his bland 
 est manner, " I sometimes think I'm mad; I 
 must be nearly so to speak to you as I have. 
 But I was startled by wiiat you told me it 
 was ao unexpected, so cursedly provoking ; 
 but it is no fault of yours, I see that. It is 
 unfortunate that Marks took tuch a patient ; 
 \ve. must, however, make the best of it; but 
 you must stay there now, you must be for the 
 future as her shadow. It is obvious that I 
 Can not visit that place, it might be fatal to 
 our plan ; but Maunors will go, and so will 
 his daughter; you must now catch every 
 word, see every motion watch him, watch her, 
 watch every body." 
 
 " Now you are more reasonable," said the 
 lady, in a c miplimentary tone ; " I knew that 
 we should have a little storm, that you would 
 bluster awhile, it was only bluster alter all. 
 It is now over, and we must look at the busi 
 ness quietly and coiisid -r what is best to be 
 done." They were again seated before the 
 t.'e Mrs. Pinkley as if perfectly at home, and 
 the doctor was tamed down to the stan 
 dard or quality of a rational being. 
 
 " Fauny, I know how deeply I am indebted 
 t > you, 1 can never forget that. I know how 
 faithfully you have served me in times past ; 
 1 know what you have risked for me, and IMW 
 ]> nverless I might often have been without 
 rniir ready aid; and hear me, Fan," said he, 
 drawing closer to her, " I know my pro idse to 
 you, I remember it well, and, by heavens! 
 just as soon as I am at liberty ay, the very 
 day I am made a widower, that promise shall 
 be renewed and carried out in due time." 
 
 Whether it was the gentle oath gentle, of 
 tourse, on such an occasion that the doctor 
 
 then swore, or the unnatural tenderness that 
 seemed to wander about his hard features, 
 like a lost sunbeam in a desert, that made the 
 amiable Mrs. Pinkley blush a deeper pink, 
 she did really blush ; it came to that, and 
 then bashfully as it were raising her hand to 
 shade her eyes from his ogre-like glances, she 
 looked modestly down at the hearth, as if 
 overcome by a very peculiar emotion. 
 
 " Well, doctor," said she, with eyes still bent 
 down and emphasizing her words, " I did 
 want to hear that promise again, I did. I 
 sometimes have been foolish enough to think 
 that you might forget me for some favored 
 one of the rich, proud, pious ladies that 
 swarm around you. I have made sacrifices 
 for you ; for your sake I got rid of Pinkley 
 and became a widow ; for you I have re 
 mained so, and am willing to wait. Ay," 
 said she, lowering her voice almost to a whis 
 per, and regarding him with singular interest, 
 " you know what I have done and am still 
 willing t do to join our fate. Yes, I wanted 
 that promise renewed. I wanted your most 
 sacred word even your oath, your solemn 
 oath." 
 
 " You shall have my word, or my oath, 
 or any thing else you desire. Have I not 
 trusted all to you, and put myself in your 
 power, as you have placed yourself in mine? 
 Can you doubt? Our interests are one not 
 my interest alone, but my inclination is to 
 ward you. Never think of the brainless but 
 terflies that flutter around your gospel lumi 
 naries. I know their value, the lull value of 
 such very pious ladies, and I know yours. 
 You have ability, Fan ; tact, shrewdness, cau 
 tion, courage true courage ; that's the quali 
 ty! never think again of those moths. 1 tell 
 you I have promised, and will perform. I must 
 do so ; 1 can not do without you. You are my 
 legal adviser. Fan ; my faithful pilot in every 
 storm, but I am still in bonds ; when, when 
 shall I be free 't" 
 
 " That's an important question to answer ; it 
 won't do to be in too great a hurry. I am, I 
 know I am, more anxious than you, but I am 
 more cautious. Oh! how I wish this affair 
 was over ! Pinkley 's was bad enough ; will this 
 be worse? There are some imps in iheHome, 
 that I must get rid of. I have spoken to 
 Marks about a change, and have given him 
 some plausible reasons. I think he is willing 
 we have already engaged a new keeper, and 
 if I can only get a few other total strangers iu 
 place of some of our present inquisitive atten 
 dants, I shall, I think, be able to avoid all sus 
 picion. " 
 
 " That's the point, Fan ; beware of that 
 rock !" . 
 
 " Your wife is cautious with me ; I made up 
 a story to explain about how that letter from 
 Mannors got into your hands, still she is cau 
 tious. She has, I am sun!, one confident ; that 
 I will get rid of, and then " 
 
 There, was a pause. What a terrible reve 
 lation might have been made by the lull, free 
 completion of the s intence. Even an un 
 wonted gravity settled upon the doctor's face- 
 not in dread of the commission of actual crime, 
 but of the terrible detection which, in spite of 
 all, might possibly follow. He thought of this.
 
 148 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 for he knew the determination of her who had 
 just spoken. 
 
 " But tell me, doctor," she continued, " we 
 are now, I may say, talking practically ; sup 
 posing every thing all over as you could de 
 sire ; you say that you would not stay here 
 very long afterward ; so far, so good. But what 
 are your means? You have got through a 
 lot of hard cash, sure enough. You are al 
 ways complaining of a want of money. All 
 I have saved is about one hundred and fifty or 
 sixty pounds a great deal to me, but, good 
 ness ! only a mere trifle to you. Now, what 
 are your means 1 ? Then there's the children, 
 think of that." 
 
 " Now, you are the simpleton. Why, did 
 you for a moment think that I have been for 
 getting the main point ? Not I ; I never forget 
 that. You know I lost heavily by that stock 
 I purchased, but that will be soon made up. 
 I have already got a full score of your pious 
 butterflies at work for me. I can always de 
 pend upon them. They believe I have robbed 
 myself to give to the poor ; let them think so. 
 Of course, I have had to throw away a good 
 deal that way for appearance' sake. I have, 
 however, told my silken saints this time, in 
 plain English, that I wanted no presents 
 neither gilt-edged books, nor shining plate, 
 nor baubles of any kind ; that cash, hard cash, 
 was necessary for certain pious purposes ; and 
 already there have been a number of tea- 
 meetings, and bazaars and fairs are still in 
 progress every thing in full blast. I have 
 managed to start a nice little rivalry, and 
 cash will come in this time." 
 
 The fair Mrs. Pinkley seemed very much in 
 terested in these details, and her reverend 
 gallant rose greatly in her estimation ; she ad 
 mired him in the character of such a deluder. 
 
 " Then I can get Wilkins, the banker, one 
 of our church, to discount a note for any 
 amount. I have managed to be clear on his 
 books for some time, and I can arrange to 
 take a cool thousand there : I will see about 
 that to-day, and, when I am gone, the Rev. 
 Andrew Campbell, my indorser, can afford to 
 lose it. He has, to my knowledge, nearly 
 double that amount to his credit ; and he may 
 thank me for his present good position. I in 
 tend to make him grateful." 
 
 " Well, doctor," said the lady, in the prettiest 
 manner she could assume, " I always heerd 
 among our church members that you were 
 good at finance, as youxmll it ; popular minis 
 ters indeed, preachers of all kinds have the 
 real knack of getting money raising the 
 wind, as they say filthy lucre ! he ! he ! he !" 
 
 " That's not all, Fan," said the doctor, nat 
 tered by her approval ; " see here ! this is a 
 subscription-list for the erection of a new 
 church near Highgate ; just look! one, two, 
 three of them down for a thousand pounds 
 each, and five others for five hundred a piece. 
 Now, the contract is not to be let until five 
 thousand of this sum is placed in my hands. 
 Yes, in mine, as treasurer for the trustees." 
 And his fist closed tightly at the pleasant idea. 
 
 " Now, if I should be, say, so unfortunate as 
 to lose the money, or have it stolen a thing, 
 you know, of common occurrence and if you 
 should happen to find it a thing equally pos 
 
 sible I can, of course, lament the loss ; but, 
 bless your heart, it won't be felt. What's a 
 thousand or ten thousand to some of thorn 1 
 Put on a little pressure, and they will come 
 down again ; but we need not wait for the re 
 sult. Will that answer, Fan?" said he, gent 
 ly laying his hand in hers. 
 
 Good Mrs. Pinkley counted over the strong 
 names on the list which the doctor had taken 
 from a small drawer ; and, having after a lit 
 tle time succeeded in adding up the three for 
 a thousand and the five for five hundred, she 
 clutched the paper as if she then and there 
 had hold of the princely amount which the doc 
 tor partly predicted she might be so lucky aa 
 to stumble over out of the sum total. 
 
 " That will do," said she, highly delighted ; 
 " that will be the very thing. Prime ! excel 
 lent ! if it's only managed well. Let that be 
 your part mine, I fear, will not be so easy. 
 Then there's the children we may have 
 trouble with them ; there will be trouble any 
 way with that boy, he'll be as stiff and a& 
 positive as ever his mother was. You must 
 look after him in time ; he has strange no 
 tions." 
 
 " The children will be a nuisance well, a 
 difficulty," said he, correcting himself ; " but 
 we may be able to make some arrangement ; 
 there's time enough, however, for that. Frank 
 is getting positive, is he ? he shall never be 
 like his mother, if I can help it. I'd rather 
 see him dead and in his grave first. I'll reg 
 ulate him, don't be afraid of that. How glad 
 I am now that you called, Fan you do manage 
 things so well. Yet, one more, j ust one more 
 cautious act, and you know the rest ; one 
 more, and I shall fulfill that promise." 
 
 Just then a smart rap was heard at the 
 street door. " This is Bross," said the doctor. 
 " I shall hear something now about Manners." 
 And then, having promised to call and see hei 
 and the children as soon as possible, he ten 
 derly pressed her hand as she retired by the 
 private entrance. Quickly arranging his hair 
 by running it back through his fingers, he 
 then approached the door, and, wearing his 
 most benevolent and sanctimonious expres 
 sion, he meekly smiled as he received his ex 
 pected visitor. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 MR. TFIOMAS Bnoss was the young gentle 
 man with extensive shirt-collar, who called 
 at Hampstead Cottage to deliver a letter, and 
 who, at the time, happened to overhear Mrs. 
 Mannors, under the influence of her hallucina 
 tion, reproach her husband for his unfaithful- 
 ness ; and this incident he, as a moral man 
 and good Christian, immediately construed 
 into its worst sense, and, with slight additions, 
 retailed it in his own way where he thought 
 the story would be most acceptable. 
 
 Mr. Bross was a junior clerk in the office of 
 Vizard & Coke, Gray's Inn ; in his own 
 estimation, rather clever, but his fellow- 
 students considered him a parasite, a syco 
 phant, any thing to ingratiate himself with 
 his employers, or with any one else whom h 
 fancied had influence. He was a strict Pre&
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 149 
 
 byterian, a member of the Rev. Andrew 
 Campbell's church, and he distributed tract 
 after breakfast on Sundays until church time. 
 He had a class in the Sabbath-school, and 
 was particularly obsequious to the lady teach 
 ers, who found an agreeable pastime in co 
 operating with such prepossess! n g young 1 gen 
 tlemen for the illumination of younger Chris 
 tians. 
 
 The ladies of the congregation he, of course, 
 knew esteemed Doctor Buster very highly; 
 he had heard them speak of his great talents 
 and exalted character, and Mr. Bross was not 
 Blow to insinuate himself into the good graces 
 of the moderator ; and the doctor found in 
 the very moral young man a very convenient 
 tool or agent. 
 
 It was the low, stumpy form of Mr. Bross 
 that entered the study of Doctor Buster after 
 Mrs. Pinkley's retreat ; he was greeted by the 
 genial smile of that distinguished pillar of 
 the church. 
 
 " Ah ! my very dear young friend, I am 
 most happy to see you ; I was beginning to 
 fear that you had not received my note. I 
 trust I have not put you to much inconve 
 nience by requesting you to call so early to 
 day ; I like to see all my friends when I return 
 to the city." 
 
 Mr. Bross leered with his prominent eyes at 
 the doctor ; he was delighted at the complai 
 sance of the great man before him, and 
 paused a moment in grateful admiration ere 
 he could find a reply. 
 
 " Not the least, doctor, not the least ; there 
 could be no inconvenience. my ! not at 
 all, sir 'tis such a privilege to be here ; I 
 would have called sooner, but it so happened 
 that just as I was about to leave the office 
 last evening, your very respected friend Man- 
 nors walked in, and I thought I could make 
 my visit more interesting by \aiting a little 
 longer." 
 
 " He did, indeed ! how very opportune ! pray 
 be seated, my dear friend. Ah ! pardon me, 
 how is your excellent mother? You see," 
 gaid the doctor, piously raising his eyes, " what 
 we sometimes might only consider a fortu 
 nate occurrence is often, in reality, an act of 
 Providence the mysterious hand guiding our 
 destinies, the luminous finger pointing out 
 the hidden danger, the vast intelligence gra 
 ciously counteracting evil designs. Ah ! my 
 friend, this has been my experience ; I can 
 not be too thankful. Undeserving as I am, 
 even you have been an agent in the hand of 
 the Almighty for my benefit." 
 
 The eyes of the delisrhted Bross fairly glis 
 tened to hear such words from the mouth of 
 such a chosen vessel. The bare idea of hav 
 ing been acknowledged as the selected instru 
 ment to serve this meek, exemplary pastor 
 was almost overwhelming ! What would he 
 not have then given to be able to weep a lit 
 tle gratitude for so much condescension ? 
 
 " Yes, my dear friend, you have proved an 
 unexpected aid to mo with regard to the evil 
 designs of that bad man. I have already 
 made you acquainted with the nature of his 
 calumnies, of his unholy attacks against me, 
 yet I care not for myself. He is, as you are 
 aware, an unbeliever in our divine faith; and, 
 
 a8 an humble instrument in upholding the 
 truth of God, I have had to reply to the 
 specious and dangerous reasoning which ha 
 has circulated through the debased columns of 
 the Westminster Review against the Scrip 
 tures. I have had to neutralize the poisonous 
 error with which he had infected many feeble 
 minds, and for this, as well as for other simi 
 lar reasons, I have incurred his hatred. Since 
 my unfortunate domestic affliction, his base 
 insinuations and intermeddling have been to 
 me a painful persecution. But the ministers 
 of God should esteem it a privilege to suffer 
 in his cause. ' Our light affliction, which is 
 but for a moment, worketh for us a far more 
 exceeding and eternal weight of glory.' The 
 Lord will, I humbly trust, counteract the inten 
 tions of this wicked person." 
 
 After this delivery, the doctor was evidently 
 much affected, and when he stooped down to 
 apply his handkerchief, the feelings of the 
 sympathizing clerk were overcome, and in a 
 similar manner he tried to hide the tears 
 which it is to be presumed filled his eyes on 
 the occasion. 
 
 " He will he will, no doubt, reverend sir," 
 said Bross in a faltering voice. " I am aware 
 of all that that evil-disposed man has done 
 against you. I can assure you, nothing will 
 give me greater satisfaction than to be of the 
 slightest service to you in any way. I am 
 but a humble individual, sir ; but if my very 
 humble services can be of the slightest assist 
 ance, pray do, sir, command me ; it will be 
 such a pleasure to obey." 
 
 " Ah !" said the doctor, as if soliloquizing, 
 " what great faithfulness and amiability we 
 discover where there is least pretension." 
 Than, after a well-regulated pause, he con 
 tinued : " He calls at your office very often 
 then, you say ; he must be rather litigious? 
 no doubt of it." 
 
 " Yes, sir, he calls occasionally. We do hie 
 business at least the respected firm of Vizain 
 & Coke have the management of whatever 
 matters require legal attention. We conduct 
 liis legal affairs when he has any ; they can't 
 be much, for we never had a case of his ii> 
 court ; yet he calls, it must be for advice." 
 
 " What business can he then possibly have 
 to require attention in your office ? what ad 
 vice can he require if he is neither plaintiff 
 nor defendant ? Can you find out ? I am 
 anxious to know, and I will explain the rea 
 son some other time." 
 
 " Explain ! Of course you need explain 
 nothing to me, sir ; I shall only be too happy 
 ;o be of any " 
 
 " Never mind, never mind, my dear friend : 
 [ am quite aware of all that; just find out 
 :iis aim, he must have some sinister motive 
 n view ; he is one whom we must distrust." 
 
 " Well, it is so difficult to find out what he 
 s after. He is generally in close consultation 
 with Mr. Vizard, all that is, of course, lost ta 
 us ; ho must have a design indeed, I suspect 
 lim already. You remember the conversa 
 tion which I told you I overheard between 
 :iim and his wife ?'' 
 
 " Ah ! yes that where she accused him of 
 unfaithfulness. Poor woman ! Let me so?, 
 [ think you said the maid, or rather his fa
 
 150 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 vorite, was present at tlie time/' spoke the 
 doctor suggestively. 
 
 " There was another person a wo~~i, a 
 female, a favorite no doubt just whai you 
 say," stammered the compliant clerk. 
 
 " Alas! she was the certain cause of all the 
 misery that has since fallen upon his unhappy 
 wife. But what better could be expected ? 
 What faithfulness, or honor, or principle, or 
 morality could follow from one who would 
 ignore religion ? The tree is known by its 
 fru t." 
 
 "Very true indeed, sir. What faithfulness 
 or honor, or morality could follow ?" echoed 
 the correct Mr. Bross. 
 
 " Now that I think of it, perhaps it would 
 be well that you should clearly remember 
 what took place at that time ; it may be of 
 service hereafter. No doubt it then occurred 
 to you that the trouble was caused by domes 
 tic jealousy," again suggested the doctor. 
 
 " I think it did, sir ; yes, I think that was 
 my impression of course it was. You are 
 perfectly right, sir ; it was jealousy." 
 
 " Oh ! it is quite apparent, it could be nothing 
 else. And you have no idea of the real na 
 ture of his business at the office?" 
 
 " I can not say for certain ; I oft^n take an 
 opportunity of going into the private room 
 to make an inquiry this is a great liberty 
 and I once overheard Mr. Vizard say some 
 thing as to the law regulating the confine 
 ment of insane persons." 
 
 " Insane persons! Ah! I see," said the doc 
 tor stoically. Yet the sudden pressure on his 
 temples at the moment was rather oppressive ; 
 and his face became suddenly flushed. 
 
 Mr. Bross continued, ' Lately, I had reason 
 to believe that he had some business of his 
 own. There was, I think, a settlement, or will, 
 or instrument drawn, by which his daughter 
 was to be benefited. The copy of this 1 have 
 not yet seen I will get hold of it if possible; 
 but a scrap of memoranda which I saw in 
 the waste-basket, related to such a convey 
 ance." 
 
 " A scrap not worth keeping, I suppose ?" 
 snid the doctor carelessly. " The matter, 
 however, as to lunatics must have been in re 
 lation to his own wife. Methodistic excite 
 ment and jealousy, and the misconduct and 
 immorality of her husband, all, no doubt, com 
 bined to overpower her weak mind." 
 
 " Most probably, sir ; but there was nothing 
 on the piece of paper which could be of any 
 advantage; I looked it over carefully. Perhaps, 
 though, there may be something in this ; I 
 paw it upon one of the office chairs after they 
 went away." And Mr. Bross handed the doctor 
 an open envelope. 
 
 Two small pieces of paper were all it con 
 tained ; one was written, the other printed, 
 but even these were sufficient to drive the 
 blood into the doctor's face and then suddenly 
 back to his heart, leaving him in a state of 
 pallor ; and though he tried to appear very 
 calm, he was evidently much agitated. 
 The print and the writing took hut a minute 
 to read, yet like some powerful spell, or as but 
 a single drop of a potent drug, the effect was 
 sudden and stupefying. On one piece of 
 paper the doctor read, in his own hand 
 
 writing, "A. M., North street, near Jewish 
 Cemetery," and the other was an advertise 
 ment cut -Tom the Times. "Wanted, two or 
 three steady ar.d intelligent persons, suitable 
 for attendants in a private hospital ; strangers 
 to the city preferred. Address Dr. A. M., 1322 
 North street. 
 
 For the time, Mr. Bross seemed to have been 
 entirely forgotten. The eye of his reverend 
 friend still rested upon the advertisement, 
 then it glanced at the writing, and then there 
 was a contraction of the brow, as if some deep 
 problem required the most powerful concen 
 tration of thought. The doctor had never 
 missed the memorandum which he had drop 
 ped, he could not tell where ; but there waa 
 his own writing, sure enough, and how this 
 scrap ever got into the hands of Martin Man- 
 nors was the mystery. Then the connection 
 which had evidently been established between 
 the writing and the advertisement caused 
 him the greatest anxiety. Through the small 
 opening already made, an enemy might see a 
 great, great distance. Were his plans known ? 
 Were his schemes detected ? Was he already 
 discovered, and the hated infidel already upon 
 his track to crush and expose him before 
 the world? He looked half bewildered around 
 the room, and then askance with tiger eye 
 even at Bross, as if he had already sus 
 pected him of being an emissary. Suddenly 
 collecting himself, he assumed his blandest 
 tone, and said carelessly : 
 
 " I hardly understand the meaning of 
 these items ; there may be something in 
 them, yet scarcely of any consequence. Are 
 you sure that they were left by Manners ?" 
 
 " Oh ! yes, sir, quite certain ; at least, either 
 by him or the person who was with him one 
 or the other." 
 
 " Person with him ! Was there any one 
 with liim wheji he called ?" 
 
 " Indeed, I forgot to mention that there 
 was a stranger a person I never saw before." 
 And Mr. Bross gave the best description he 
 could of the unknown individual. 
 
 With all his caution, the doctor could not 
 hide his uneasiness. Who this new actor was 
 that had, as it were, just entered on the stage, 
 or the part he was to perform, created much 
 embarrassment. There was an alliance or 
 secret combination formed which disconcerted 
 him very much, and every attempt must now 
 be made to discover the nature of this fresh 
 source of danger. However, it would not do 
 to appear in the least intimidated ; there should 
 be no evidence of weakness or wavering, and 
 the doctor for the time simulated the greatest 
 indifference. 
 
 " Well, my dear friend, I feel greatly obliged 
 to you for your kind attention to my interests. 
 I do not, of course, understand to what these 
 papers refer ; however, they may, perhaps 
 guide us to something. But if you can pos 
 sibly ascertain who this other person is, or 
 where he resides, or what business there can 
 be between him and my enemy, it may be 
 serviceable. It is probable that this envelope 
 and its contents were left behind, as being of 
 no service. I can not see that they are of any 
 consequence; any way, I shall keep them in 
 my possession ; insignificant as they now are
 
 EXETER HALL, 
 
 151 
 
 they may, perhaps, be useful at another 
 time." 
 
 The doctor again thanked Bross most gra 
 ciously. He then gave a pious turn to the con 
 versation, and feelingly commented on the 
 great refuge of the Christian in troublous 
 times. What was this world but the vanity 
 of vanities a fleeting show, a snare ? He 
 spoke of the glorious privilege of Sabbath 
 services ; he urged punctuality at the weekly 
 prayer-meeting and regular attendance at the 
 Sabbath-school. Every effort should be made 
 to spread a knowledge of the Lord over the 
 whole earth. The beauty of holiness was a 
 theme upon which he said he loved to dwell. 
 Oh ! how it made his heart expand in love to 
 all. What reproach he would be willing to 
 suffer for the truth ! Words of affection 
 seemed to flow from the lips of the holy man, 
 and from the manner in which poor, devoted 
 Mr. Bross hung his head, it was evident that 
 the doctor's pious remarks made a due impres 
 sion. 
 
 Time was fleeing fast, and the punctual 
 Bross hinted the necessity of returning to his 
 post ; and j ust as that hopeful young Christian 
 and law-clerk was about to take his leave, 
 the doctor drew from a recess a bundle of as 
 sorted religious tracts and handed them to his 
 young disciple for distribution. Here was a 
 means for the most unassuming to make them 
 selves useful. He complimented Bross for 
 the diligence he had already shown, and urged 
 him to continue in the good work. Scattered 
 here and there among the careless and pro 
 fane, these little leaves might cause some to 
 pause on the down ward road, and bring reflec 
 tion to many a careless sinner ; and what a 
 gratification it would be for one to know that 
 he was a privileged agent in such a work. 
 
 Mr. Bross reverently received the orthodox 
 package. He was delighted at such manifes 
 tations of confidence from one of such estab 
 lished piety; he stammered many promises; 
 and took his departure, asserting his deter 
 mination to renew his exertions in the cause 
 of the Lord and Doctor Buster. 
 
 The day continued gloomy, and the doctor 
 etood at the window for some time and va 
 cantly watched the retiring form of Bross 
 through the thick mist. The morning, so far, 
 had been unpropitious, the moderator felt 
 strangely uneasy ; every visitor as yet had 
 brought him but ill news how would the 
 day end ? As he still looked out, he clutched 
 the envelope, and, having given his wandering 
 conjectures full scope for some minutes, he 
 again read the writing and advertisement. 
 
 " Well, what a cursed fool I must have been 
 to let this out of my hands ! How the devil 
 did Mannors get it or was it given him by 
 another? Well, damn them, let it go ! what 
 can they make of it '? nothing ! They may do 
 their best, Marks and Fan will be able for 
 them. But stay, she has not yet seen these 
 waifs ; this has wandered back to me," said he, 
 looking at his own writing ; "and as for this 
 advertisement, 1 must show it to her at 
 once. Xo doubt she will be their match she 
 never fails." 
 
 Having thus soliloquized, the doctor again 
 fortified himself with an increased dose of his 
 
 favorite liquor, and, muffling himself up care 
 fully, left the lonely house to make a few calls, 
 and then to visit Mrs. Pinkley, and counsel 
 with her as his chief friend and adviser. 
 
 When Mr. Bross reached the office of his 
 employers, he was immediately dispatched 
 with a message to Hampstead. lln was very 
 much pleased at this, and trusted that an op 
 portunity might offer of being able to serve his 
 reverend patron, Doctor Buster. On his arrival 
 at Heath Cottage, he was met at the garden 
 gate by Miss Mannors, and admitted into the 
 house by her whom he then thought one of 
 the most beautiful beings on which his eyes 
 had ever rested. Mr. Mannors was absent, 
 but was expected home every minute, and in 
 the mean time his fair daughter, Mary, kept 
 his visitor in conversation. The blushing, 
 blundering Bross was sadly stricken, and for 
 a full half-hour made the most desperate and 
 agonizing efforts to appear collected and in 
 his ordinary senses ; but at the end of that 
 time, when Mr. Mannors returned, he could 
 scarcely make himself understood. He waa 
 almost hopelessly lost a victim to love at 
 first sight. 
 
 What a change had already come over the 
 fickle Bross ! The maligned Martin Mannors 
 was now a hero, for whom he would have con 
 signed the great Doctor Buster to the remotest 
 ends of the earth ; and Miss Mannors was a 
 sweet divinity, for whom he could have for 
 saken his Sunday-school and its feminine 
 attractions ; she was an angel, for whom he 
 might be possibly persuaded to lay down his 
 very life, or even resign the coveted honor of 
 being secretary to an extensive and distin 
 guished branch of the Young Men's Chris 
 tian Association of London. Alas ! what a 
 sudden fall from grace to nature. Poor Bross 
 was already a willing backslider, already 
 contemplating further strides upon the down 
 ward road. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 AFTER Mrs. Pinkley had accepted a situation 
 from Dr. Marks, she found it necessary to re 
 move to a dwelling more convenient to hia 
 celebrated Home, in which she might be said 
 to be the principal attendant. She had to 
 search for some days before she could find a 
 suitable house, yet the one which she had at 
 last secured was not the style she wished, nor 
 was it the most pleasantly situaied ; but it 
 answered her purpose for the time, as she 
 did not expect to remain in it very 
 long. The building was one of a row of 
 old, dilapidated structures which had, perhaps, 
 two centuries before given victims to the 
 great plague, and had subsequently escaped 
 the great conflagration. Any way, it bore 
 the marks of age, if cracked and crumbling 
 walls, spreading door-jambs, and sunken lin 
 tels were evidence to that extent ; its late oc 
 cupant, an old trading Jew, having resided 
 there for over fifty years, until he was at last 
 transferred from his garret to his grave, and 
 deposited in the cemetery only j ust across tha 
 street to moulder and mingle with the mor
 
 152 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 tal remains of others distinguished as the de 
 scendants of the great, ancient Abraham. 
 
 As cleanliness is said to be next to godliness, 
 Mrs. Pinkley, therefore, as a pious woman, 
 could not but exhibit a due regard for appear 
 ances ; and it was not many days before she 
 had the lower front room long used as the 
 general store-room for the odds and ends upon 
 which the old Jew advanced petty loans 
 cleared of its cobwebs, and, with the remain 
 der of the house, cleansed and renovated as 
 much as possible. Indeed, after the operation, 
 the old store-room, decked out with its new car 
 pet and old furniture, now looked more like the 
 quiet parlor of some country inn ; and it was the 
 principal reception-room for the very few who 
 ever called or gained admission at the par 
 ticular hours when Mrs. Pinkley was likely 
 to be found at home. During her absence, 
 the outer door was generally kept locked, 
 and the entire place left in charge of a trusty 
 hump-backed girl called Bessy a waif, who 
 had been deserted in childhood, who never 
 knew a parent, and who, one would think, 
 seemed neither to know nor care for any one 
 else but Mrs. Pinkley ; how she came by her, 
 none could tell, but she claimed to have adopt 
 ed her simply through a humane motive. This 
 unfortunate being had been trained for a special 
 purpose trained to be trusted ; every act was 
 to be in strict conformity to the wishes of her 
 mistress ; the training part was, no doubt, pe 
 culiar, for if she did not learn to love the pro 
 tector she had found, it was evident that fear 
 had a powerful influence in rendering her 
 obedience perfect Mrs. Pinkley had a slave 
 whom she could govern at will. Bessy was 
 allowed to grow up in the grossest ignorance ; 
 she took to house-keeping, however it was all 
 she had been ever taught ; she knew nothing 
 of religion, except that she was told that there 
 was a hell, where, after the woes of this life 
 were ended, she would find multiplied misery 
 if she did not render faithful obedience to her 
 mistress ; but in the matter of house-keeping, 
 she could manage things pretty well, and 
 Mrs. Pinkley felt satisfied that while she was 
 away Bessy could take care of the house, and 
 control her tongue and her appetite according 
 to instructions. 
 
 The December day had been gloomy ; it 
 was now getting toward evening, and in 
 the upper front-room of Mrs. Pinkley's domi 
 cile two children, a boy and girl, stood silently 
 together at one of the windows watching the 
 flight of the dark clouds, or speculating upon 
 the probable number of graves in the Jewish 
 cemetery right in front of the house. The 
 room was a cold-looking apartment, scantily 
 furnished ; there was an old, rickety table, 
 a few old chairs, and leaning against the 
 rough wall was a kind of book-shelf, upon 
 which lay scattered a few old school-books, a 
 Testament, and a number of religious tracts ; 
 there was not the simplest picture or engra 
 ving to attract the children's attention, and 
 when they grew weary looking at the bare 
 walls of the room, they could look out and 
 see graves and little mounds in the burial 
 ground. 
 
 There were yew-trees along the walls of the 
 cemetery, and though monuments were few, 
 
 still Jewish affection could be traced by the 
 number of willows which bent like mourners 
 over the last resting-place of many of those 
 who had departed this life resolute unbelievers 
 in the mission of the Christian Messiah. 
 While the children watched vacantly from 
 the window, they noticed a man standing un 
 der one of the large trees or rather behind 
 it and he seemed as if looking at them or 
 toward the house. He peered cautiously from 
 time to time, and then drew back as if to es 
 cape observation. Was he, too, a mourner ? 
 He must be. After he stood behind the tree 
 for some time, he commenced to pace slowly 
 backward and forward, treading down the 
 dead leaves, and while still watching the 
 house, he went and sat upon a new grave. 
 He wore a heavy shawl and muffled up hia 
 face as if he were weeping, but still he looked 
 at the house ; and the children, in their simpli 
 city, pitied the sorrowing Jew. 
 
 " Dears, how quiet you are," said Bessy, 
 stealing up behind them, and placing a hand 
 upon the shoulder of the boy and girl. " How 
 still you do keep 1 Ma'am is away 
 again." She always called Mrs. Pinkley 
 " ma'am," and mostly in a subdued voice. 
 " Ma'am is away, Misa Alice we can laugh 
 now." And Bessy made a wailing kind of at 
 tempt at laughter which almost startled the 
 children. " Don't 'be afeared of me, dears." 
 Why, Master Frank, you look frightened ! 
 Poor Bessy loves you both, and you know I 
 can only laugh when you are with me. 
 Ma'am is away again, and I want to laugh ; 
 it does me good it does." 
 
 " We were looking at that man," said the 
 boy, pointing to the cemetery ; " he is a poor 
 Jew may be crying for his children." 
 
 " Why, dears, Jews have got no hearts- 
 ma'am says they 're such wicked bad uns. She 
 would kill 'em and burn 'em, I know she 
 would. She says they are worse than " 
 and Bessy pointed downward significantly, as 
 if afraid to utter the name of the evil one. 
 
 " Jews have tender hearts, like other peo 
 ple," said Alice, " for you know, Bessy, how 
 it made us all cry the other day when we saw 
 the poor old Jew so sorry at the big funeral. 
 Oh ! how sorry he was ; they could scarcely 
 get him away from the grave ; may be that 
 poor man over there is crying for somebody 
 that's dead." 
 
 " May be," said Bessy, " but a man goes to 
 that place very often just like him, and he 
 keeps a looking over this way see, he's look 
 ing at us now ! Ma'am doesn't like un, and 
 she told me to watch un, she did, and to keep 
 the door fast, and to let no one' come in but 
 the doctor. You know how she beat me the 
 other day for letting the man in with the lot 
 of toys oh 1 such beauties ; and when he 
 got in, he peeped here and there, and asked 
 if there was any children, and I said, no, be- 
 cause ma'am told me she did." 
 
 " Oh ! I wish we had seen them," said 
 Alice ; " I wish we could see something, I wish 
 we could get out to see somebody to see 
 the nice green fields in the country, only just 
 for an hour." 
 
 " Dears, dears, ma'am would kill me if I was 
 to let you out, or let any body come in again
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 153 
 
 she would. How I would like to go too ! 
 what are green fields like, Miss Alice like 
 that ?" 
 
 " No, Bessy, not like that that's a grave 
 yard, full of graves ; but the green fields that 
 I remember are away, away from streets, and 
 houses, and noise so very quiet ; away in the 
 country, where the sun shines, and where we 
 could see cows and little lambs, and could 
 pick daisies and buttercups in the springtime 
 and " 
 
 " O Miss Alice !" interrupted Bessy, and 
 clapping her hands in ecstasy, "do, do tell me 
 about the fields ; I often heerd of fields green 
 fields tell me what they are like." Bessy had 
 but a faint conception of what they were ; she 
 had never been outside the gloom of the city, 
 still she had an idea that the country and its 
 hills and fields might be part of heaven, 
 ab'out which the children spoke sometimes. 
 
 In her eagerness to hear, she sat upon the 
 floor, as she often did when she was alone 
 with them, placing one on each side of her. 
 They formed a strange little group in the dull 
 light before the window. Bessy's pinched 
 and worn-looking face made her appear old ; 
 though she was scarcely seventeen, she might 
 have been taken for thirty ; she seemed to 
 have had no childhood, but to have passed 
 from infancy to maturity at one dreary 
 bound. Her life so far had been but a bleak 
 period of drudgery, hardship, and oppression, 
 and the only real joyful moments of her ex 
 istence were those spent in the society of 
 these children ; they were the only beings 
 that had ever been truly kind to her, and 
 they pitied Bessy in her desolation. Un 
 known to Mrs. Pinkley, they taught her to 
 read ; for though that stern Christian woman 
 professed to be a patron of knowledge and of 
 Sunday-schools, yet she never permitted her 
 dependent to waste a moment with books 
 Bessy in gross ignorance served her purpose 
 better. The children, however, were not sus 
 pected, and they took pleasure in imparting 
 to Bessy a share of their little stock of know 
 ledge, and Bessy, in return, loved them with all 
 the intensity of her benevolent nature ; they 
 seemed to be, like herself, the inheritors of af 
 fliction. Alice, the older child, was about ten 
 years of age, a delicate-looking girl ; she had 
 beautiful brown hair, which Bessy took great 
 delight in twisting into long curls. Frank 
 might be two years younger ; he was a healthy 
 boy, very intelligent for his age, and singu 
 larly independent in his manner of thinking. 
 For more than a year Bessy had been almost 
 their only companion. Mrs. Pinkley was gen 
 erally away during the day and often during 
 the night, and, when thus left alone, as soon 
 as Bessy hurried through with her work, they 
 would all sit together in the upper room, and 
 the children would tell of what they had seen 
 of the world outside of London, and tell of 
 their mother, and of the nice home they once 
 had ; and when they wept, as they often did, 
 for that mother and home, Bessy would weep 
 too, and be their only comforter. 
 
 After Alice had delighted Bessy with a de 
 scription of the fields, trees, hills, and streams 
 of the quiet country, and had contrasted cot 
 tages and gardens with old houses in dirty, 
 
 crowded city thoroughfares, Frank did his 
 part by hearing Bessy spell her hard words, 
 and then he assisted her to read the last tract 
 which had been left with him by Mrs. Pink- 
 ley ; it gave a terrible description of the final 
 judgment, and of hell, and of the woeful 
 doom of the wicked ; and it was completed 
 by the three following verses, from one of the 
 most orthodox hymn-books : * 
 
 "The {rreat archangel's trump shall sound, 
 
 (While twice ten thousand thunders roar,) 
 Tear up the graves and cleave the ground, 
 And make the greedy sea restore. 
 
 " The greedy sea shall yield her dead, 
 
 The earth no more her slain conceal ; 
 Sinners shall lift their guilty head, 
 And shrink to see a yawning hell. 
 
 " We, while the stars from heaven shall fall, 
 And mountains are on mountains hurled, 
 Shall stand unmoved amidst them all, 
 And smile to see a burning world." 
 
 Poor Bessy shuddered ; she looked in the 
 boy's face, but she saw no change no terror ; 
 neither did his sister seem to be much af 
 fected. 
 
 " Dears, are you not afeared ? Isn't that 
 dreadful? Don't let's read any more of it, 
 Master Frank. O my ! O my ! Ma'am says 
 it's all true she does ; better we'd never been 
 born never been born." 
 
 " Bessy, it's not true," said the boy, try 
 ing to assure her ; " my ma often told me so ; 
 she said there was no such place as hell, and 
 that God was good and loved every body, and 
 would never burn them up." 
 
 " He won't ? dears, dears I I hope he 
 won't ; dears, I hope !" 
 
 " He won't, Bessy," continued the boy ; 
 "God never made sucli a horrid place; it waa 
 the priests who made hell ma said that, 
 too." f 
 
 " O Miss Alice I isn't it dreadful to think 
 on ? I could love God better if there was no 
 hell I could. I wouldn't want to hide from 
 him so if he was as good to ine, dears, as you 
 are I wouldn't." 
 
 " I'm not afraid of God, Bessy," said Frank. 
 " I remember that ma used to tell us that 
 cruel men make a cruel God ; if I was very, 
 very sick, and going to die to-morrow, I 
 wouldn't be afraid." 
 
 " God loves all good people, Bessy," said 
 Alice ; " I think he loves every body ; he lovea 
 you, for you are good I am sure he does." 
 
 " Oh ! but I'm very wicked, dear I am. 
 I would like to be very good, Miss Alice I 
 would, but I'm a very bad un, I suppose ; 
 for ma'am says I'm so terribly wicked she 
 does ; but you know I didn't make myself; if 
 I did, I'd be a good bit better I would, Misfl 
 Alice. God pity us all !" 
 
 " God will pity us all, Bessy," said the chil 
 dren solemnly. 
 
 During the pause which followed, there was a 
 loud thump heard at the front-door. The chil 
 dren were startled, the boy became rather agi 
 tated, and grew suddenly pale ; and as Bessy 
 moved off on tip-toe, she beckoned significant 
 ly and whispered, " Hish, hish, dears ! 'tis th 
 doctor, 'tis th' doctor." 
 
 * Wesley's Hymns. 
 
 t See Note D.
 
 154 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 The children instinctively drew into a cor 
 ner of the room, and the man in the cemetery 
 moved from the grave on which he had been 
 sitting, and stood looking at the house again 
 from behind the big tree. 
 
 Before Bessy had time to reach the door, 
 another loud knock was given. She had no 
 occasion to look through the side-lights to be 
 assured of who was waiting for admittance, 
 for already she could hear Doctor Buster mut 
 tering either prayers or curses at her delay, 
 and, as soon as the door was opened, he 
 stamped in rudely past her, and in a gruff, 
 impatient voice asked for Mrs. Pinkley." 
 
 " She be out, sir," said Bessy, almost trem 
 bling. 
 
 " Out ? the devil ! How long has she been 
 out ? When will she be back ?" 
 
 " More'n an hour or two, sir ; she's a coming 
 back soon soon, sir." 
 
 " When is soon, you jade you damned 
 hump ? Where are the children ?" 
 
 The doctor was evidently annoyed, irri 
 tated. He did not expect to find Mrs. Pink- 
 ley out, and her absence and may be other 
 matters had ruffled his temper. He did not 
 wait for Bessy's answer, and, as he mounted the 
 creaking stairs, the children tried to crouch 
 'further into the corner, and the man in the 
 cemetery moved closer toward the house. 
 
 The room was gloomy, and as the doctor 
 paused in the doorway, his dark form loomed 
 up in the dutky light like a great spectre, and 
 when his eye rested upon the little fugitives 
 in the corner, he seemed to get rather angry, 
 and said in a sharp, upbraiding manner : 
 "Why, what do you hide there for, you stu 
 pid fools ? Whom did you expect to see com 
 ing? Come out of that come here!" 
 
 The frightened boy sat still, but Alice 
 moved toward her father ; yet she approached 
 him in a hesitating manner, which did not 
 tend to make him more amiable. 
 
 "Come on, girl do. Am I an elephant?" 
 
 " O pa ! we were a little afraid ; for a man 
 came into the house the other day, you know, 
 and " and the girl hesitated still more in 
 trying to frame some excuse. 
 
 " A man in the other day ! I know that. 
 Was he here again ? Did that cursed hump 
 back let him in a second time?" 
 
 " No, pa ; no, sir, Bessy did not, she didn't, 
 indeed, pa ; but we saw a man over there this 
 evening, and we were afraid." And Alice 
 pointed to the burial-ground across the street. 
 
 The doctor went quickly to the window, 
 and looked eagerly out toward the place, but 
 the man in the cemetery suddenly drew back 
 behind a tree, and, as it was getting dark, the 
 doctor made no discovery. 
 
 " I see no one ; you mustn't be afraid of your 
 shadow. What are you skulking there for, 
 sir? Come here! What is the brat think 
 ing of?" 
 
 " Frank was afraid too, pa," said Alice, try 
 ing to be cheerful. " Come, Frank, pa has got 
 a nice book for us." 
 
 The boy left his corner rather reluctantly. 
 Alice took his hand and led him on, and, 
 when he ventured to glance upward at his 
 father, he saw him standing near the window 
 frowning, and holding his gold-headed cane. 
 
 "What have you been doing, sir? You 
 look as if you had been guilty of something," 
 said the doctor. 
 
 " Oh ! nothing, sir, indeed, nothing ; but I 
 said my lessons to Alice, and we read a tract 
 for Bessy." 
 
 "You like tracts, do you?" said the doctor 
 ironically, and he glanced at the latest doc 
 trinal effusion of the society, the reading of 
 which had so alarmed poor Bessy. " Any 
 thing rather than read your Testament tracts 
 or any thing." 
 
 " We read it every day, pa, we do, indeed," 
 said Alice. 
 
 " You read ! Yes, you read, but do you be 
 lieve does he ?" 
 
 " He does, pa, I believe, and so does Frank, 
 almost all almost every thing." And Alice 
 nearly trespassed on the truth to try and con 
 ciliate her father. 
 
 " Almost !" retorted the doctor ; " those who 
 almost believe will be almost saved, think of 
 that ! Almost won't do ; it must be a full and 
 entire belief. I have heard that this wicked 
 brat almost believes almost ; that won't do 
 for me. If he doubts that God will be re 
 venged, if he doubts that there is a hell, he 
 may find one, as I hope all unbelievers will 
 do. He must believe it." The doctor stamp 
 ed upon the floor as he uttered the last four 
 words, and tlje boy trembled as he stood be 
 fore him. 
 
 " Indeed, pa," pleaded Alice, " we read a 
 good deal every day ; we like the Testament 
 very much. To-day we read such nice chap 
 ters we read of how Christ preached forgive 
 ness, of how he fed the multitude, and of how 
 he cured lepers, and poor, sick people, and of 
 how he blessed little children, and of how he 
 wept at the grave when he raised the dead 
 Lazarus. You know, pa, that every one 
 would like to believe these things and we 
 would too." 
 
 " Yes, yes, I see ; like a good many others, 
 you would like to believe in all mercies, in all 
 forgiveness, but what of divine justice? God 
 must be avenged. Now, let me see what you 
 know on this point." The doctor drew a 
 chair and sat down, as if prepared to catechise. 
 ' I have ordered you to read the Bible, now 
 let me test your knowledge. 
 
 " What is said in the Old Testament with 
 respect to the vengeance of the Lord ? Will 
 he be avenged ?" 
 
 Alice gave the answer out of the book of 
 Nahum, 1st chapter, 3d and Cth verses : " God 
 /.v jealous, and the Lord revengeth ; the Lord 
 rcvcugeth, and in furious : the Lord will take 
 vengeance on his adversaries, and he reserveth 
 '<rrth- for his enemies. Who can stand before 
 his indignation? and who can abide in the 
 flerceuess of his anger? his fury is poured out 
 like fire, and the rocks are thrown down by 
 him." 
 
 " What are the divine threats against the 
 disobedient ?" 
 
 She answered from Leviticus, chapter 26 : 
 27, and from Isaiah 34 : 3 : " And if ye will 
 not for all this hearken unto me, but walk 
 contrary to me: Then will I walk contrary 
 unto you also in fury, and I, even I, will chas 
 tise you seven times for your sins. And ye
 
 EXEETR HALL. 
 
 shall eat, the flesh of your sons, and the flesh 
 of your daughters shall ye eat. And I will 
 destroy your high places, and cut do\vn your 
 images, und cast your carcasses upon the 
 carcasses of your idols, and my soul shall ab 
 hor you. 
 
 " Their slain shall be cast out, and their 
 stink shall come up out of their carcasses, and 
 the mountains shall be melted with their 
 blood." (Isaiah 34: 3.) 
 
 " Were they not to be cursed by the Lord ? 
 What were the maledictions?" 
 
 Again she answered, reciting several verses 
 from the 28th chapter of Deuteronomy : " But 
 it shall come to pass, if thou wilt not heark 
 en unto the voice of the Lord thy God, to 
 observe to do all his commandments and his 
 statutes which I command thee this day, that 
 all these curses shall come upon thee : Cursed 
 shn It thou be in the city, and cursed aJialt thou 
 be in the field. Cursrd shall be thy basket and 
 thy store. Cursed shall, be the fruit of thy 
 body, and the fruit of thy laud, the increase 
 of thy kine, and the flocks of thy sheep. 
 Cursed xlmlt thou be when thou comest in, 
 and cursed xhalt thou be when thou g, >est out. 
 The Lord shall send upon thee cursing, vexa 
 tion, and rebuke, in all that thou set test thine 
 hand unto for to do, until thon be destroyed, 
 and until thou perish quickly: because of the 
 wickedness of thy doings whereby thou hast 
 forsaken me. The Lord shall make the pesti 
 lence cleave unto thee until he have consumed 
 thee from off the land, whither thou goest to 
 possess it. The Lord shall smite thee with a 
 consumption, and with a fever, and with an 
 inflammation, and with an extreme burning, 
 and with the sword, and with blasting, and 
 with mildew ; and they shall pursue thee un 
 til thou perish." She paused, as if wearied with 
 the weight of cursing, and the doctor seemed 
 to exult in the proofs. 
 
 " Ha ! that's it ; no silly tempering of mer 
 cy here, no weak relenting, no robbery of 
 divine justice ! Now, what is to be the doom 
 of unbelievers and wicked ?" And he rubbed 
 his hands in anticipation of the answer. 
 
 " The wicked shall be turned into hell, and 
 all the nations that forget God." (Psalm 9 : 
 17.) " Upon the wicked he shall rain snares, 
 fire, and brimstone, and a horrible tempest ; 
 this shall be the portion of their cup." (Psalm 
 11 : 6.) " I will be unto them as a lion ; as a 
 leopard by the way will I observe them. I 
 will meet them as a br ar that is bereaved of 
 her whelps, and will rend the caul of their 
 heart, and there will I devour them like a 
 lion." (Ilosea 13 : 7, 8.) 
 . " Prove that God's wrath will not be finally 
 appeased." 
 
 " Mine eye shall not spare, neither will I 
 Lave pity." (Ezek. 7 : 9.) " I also will laugh at 
 vour calamity ; I will mock when your fear 
 cometh." (Pro. 1 : 26.) " When your fear cometh 
 as a desolation, and your destruction cometh 
 as a whirlwind, when distress and anguish 
 come upon you, then shall ye call upon me, 
 but I will not answer." (27 : 29.) 
 
 " Give me a few texts from the New Testa 
 ment in proof of eternal punishment." 
 
 She answered, " The Lord Jesus shall be 
 revealed from heaven with his mighty angels, 
 
 in flaming fire taking vengeance on them that 
 know not God, and that obey n'>t the Gospel 
 of our Lord Jes-is Christ. Who shall be 
 punished with everlasting destruction from 
 the presence of the Lord, and from the glory 
 of his power." (2Thes. 1 : 7, 8, 9.) " The smoke 
 of their torment ascendeth up forever am 1 
 ever." (Kev.lt: 11.) 
 
 " Will not these judgments be approved of 
 by the righteous ?'" 
 
 " He that sitteth in the heavens shall laugh ; 
 the Lord shall have them in derision." (Psalm 
 2 : 4!) " The righteous see it, and are glad ; 
 and the innocent laugh them to scorn." (Job 
 22 : 19.) " The righteous shall see, and fear, 
 and shall laugh at him." (Psalm 52 : 6.) 
 " Let Mount Zion rejoice ; let the daughters 
 of Judah be glad, because of thy judgments." 
 (Psalm 48 : 11.) " The righteous shall rejoice 
 when he seeth the vengeance ; he shall 
 wash his feet in the blood of the wicked." 
 (Psalm 58 : 10.) 
 
 " Here is sufficient evidence ! Nothing 
 about mercy or forgiveness, no yielding to 
 pleadings for pity ; and you dare to doubt 
 these denunciations," said he, turning savage 
 ly to the boy. 
 
 " pa !" again interceded Alice, " he does 
 not imderstand it ; he will believe all soon." 
 
 " Soon ! he must believe now ; curse him, 
 does he want to follow his mother? does he 
 ever say his prayers ?" 
 
 " I pray, and Bessy prays, pa ; we all pray 
 sometimes." And Alice now began to trem 
 ble as she stood before her angry parent. 
 
 " Does he pray, I ask ? Have you prayed 
 to-day V" said he, scowling down upon Frank. 
 
 The boy could not utter a word ; he held 
 his sister firmly by the hand, bent his head, 
 and remained silent. 
 
 " Pray, you infernal imp ! none of your 
 mother's doings here quick, or I'll make you 
 pray." 
 
 The little fellow could scarcely stand ; he 
 looked up imploringly, his eyes were filled 
 with tears ; he knelt down, he tried to re 
 member a prayer, a verse, a text, or any thing, 
 but could only utter, " Our Father deliver 
 us from evil ; God be merciful to me a sin 
 ner 1" 
 
 dear ! dear child, God ha' mercy on you 
 now," said Bessy, clapping her hands to 
 gether and looking into the room. 
 
 " Begone, you beast," said the now infuriated 
 doctor, banging the door in Bessy's face. And 
 while the poor creature stood upon the dark 
 stairway, wringing her hands and sobbing, 
 the doctor rushed back, and shouted almost 
 loud enough to be heard across the street, 
 " Pray, damn you ! imp of your mother ; if you 
 don't "pray at once, I'll take your cursed life." 
 
 Alice was almost ready to faint ; she still 
 held her brother's hand ; he could not speak ; 
 he tried to get up to recede a step or two, but 
 before he could move away, his father struck 
 him several quick blows and smashed his cane. 
 Alice screamed, and fell fainting. Bessy rush 
 ed in, but before she had time to shield the 
 prostrate boy, the doctor eeized the cane by 
 its broken end, and, with one mighty blow," 
 
 * See Note I. 

 
 156 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 buried its heavy golden handle in the child's 
 head. 
 
 The man in the cemetery heard Bessy's 
 wild wail ; he bounded over the wall and 
 rushed toward the house. Mrs. Pinkley had 
 just hurriedly entered before him ; he heard 
 the commotion in the upper room, and her 
 sharp accusations upon the discovery of the 
 crime. 
 
 " O madman, madman ! you've done it 
 now ; what shall we do '?" she cried ; " is all 
 forever lost? What shall we do? I caution 
 ed you this morning ; see how you have end 
 ed the day." 
 
 Muffling his face closely, the man stole up 
 the stairway and peeped into the room from 
 the dark lobby ; he drew back in horror ! 
 There lay the dying boy in a pool of blood 
 his sister was in a swoon. Bessy knelt wail 
 ing at his side, and Mrs. Pinkley stood before 
 the bewildered doctor, hurling bitter re 
 proaches and cursing his madness. The man 
 remained but a few moments ; he left the 
 house as quietly as he had entered. He went 
 his way undiscovered ; he did not again enter 
 the burial-ground. See, he hurries away ! 
 Who is to hear his terrible tidings ? 
 
 It is nearly dark ; there is another great 
 funeral in the Jewish cemetery. Death stalks 
 about the place, and people are in sorrow. 
 Is it his grim carnival? The night wind 
 begins to moan through-the leafless willows 
 and to mingle with the sobbings which are 
 heard around. But stay ; 'tis the triumph of 
 woe here is another victim ! Is it a Chris 
 tian corpse ? Ah ! how poor Bessy weeps. 
 Say, who shall weep for her ? Hearts of 
 pity I see those closed eyes and that little 
 pale, upturned face, see that little hand 
 clutched in gore ! Alas! how that little form 
 already stiffens in death. Wrap it up hastily 
 in its shroud ; hide it, 'tis a foul sight ; get 
 ready its grave take it out stealthily take 
 it out in the night, that none may ever know 
 the tearless mourners. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 NIGHT had set in for some time ; it was very 
 dark ; the large street-lamp in front of the 
 massive door of a large, dreary-looking house 
 flashed upon the polished door-plate, and the 
 wayfarer who could read might trace, almost at 
 a glance, the words, " Doctor Andrew Marks's 
 Private Asylum." This was his celebrated 
 Home, his Mditon de Sante ; there was a still 
 ness about the place, and but few lights could 
 be seen in its upper barred windows. Many 
 of the afflicted ones had already been obliged 
 to retire to their narrow rooms to rave or 
 scramble upon narrow beds, and kings, beg 
 gars, emperors, and messiahs, the hopeful and 
 the desponding, were again secured by bolt 
 and bar, and left alone to sing or whine, 
 command or implore, according to the mood 
 of a disordered imagination. 
 
 Doctor Marks was alone in his study ; he had 
 mited liis patients, and was now looking over 
 the evening papers. A few attendants moved 
 noiselessly about, and the keeper of the wards, 
 
 who was to be on duty until after midnight, 
 paced leisurely up and down the long hall 
 between the prison-like dormitories. .Now 
 and then the stillness would be broken by the 
 whimpering complaints of some neglected 
 monarch strutting in his den, or by some des 
 ponding penitent moaning for mercy. But 
 the keeper heeded not ; he had often. been be 
 sought by potentates, and was now getting 
 accustomed to their appeals, and could allow 
 their humble petitions to remain unanswer 
 ed with all the indifference of a god. But 
 the keeper was not, however, as hard-hearted ; 
 he often stopped at one end of the dim hall 
 to listen sadly to the mutterings of spiritual 
 despair which fell in doleful words from the 
 quivering lips of one who fancied that God 
 had utterly forsaken her, and that her day 
 of grace had forever passed ; and day and 
 night, through bright hours, or solemn dark 
 ness, the sad burden of" Lost, lost, forever lost" 
 could be heard in the same sad monotone 
 almost continually. He had just been listen 
 ing to the doleful repetition ; all else had 
 become tolerably quiet, as if one great grief 
 had silenced all the rest. Looking care 
 fully around, he then lessened the light in 
 the hall-lamp and proceeded cautiously along 
 the passage ; at its end there was a short stair 
 way ; this he ascended, and went along a 
 narrow way leading to a few rooms at the 
 back of the building. Mrs. Pinkley general 
 ly occupied one of these ; she was now ab 
 sent ; and the keeper, having paused a moment 
 or two, and finding that all was quiet, gave 
 a peculiar tap at the door of the adjoining 
 room ; then drawing a note from his pocket, 
 he hastily thrust it under the door-way, and 
 returned to his station in the lower hall. 
 
 It was nearly ten o'clock ; the night-bell 
 was rung briskly, the front-door was open 
 ed, and Mrs. Pinkley entered. She went 
 into Doctor Marks's study ; she looked flurried 
 and excited, and, throwing her cloak aside, 
 stood in front of the table at which the doctor 
 was sitting. He had been writing ; he laid 
 his pen aside, and looked up at his visitor ; she 
 was mute. Mrs. Pinkley seemed unable to 
 speak ; the doctor began to feel surprised ; 
 there she stood like a statue, and he was 
 about to question her, when she at last man 
 aged to exclaim, " doctor, doctor ! I have 
 such dreadful tidings! dreadful tidings! Oh! 
 yes, yes, yes ; dreadful, terrible, fearful ; what 
 shall be done? what shall be done? doc 
 tor, doctor !" 
 
 " For heaven's sake !" said the doctor, 
 becoming alarmed, " what is the matter ? You 
 look frightened ; sit down, try and be calm, 
 let me know what is the matter." The doctor 
 drew a chair, and almost forced the woman 
 into it. " Sit down, sit down, and tell me what 
 is wrong." 
 
 " good God I 'tis terrible ! How shall ; 
 I begin to tell you how am I to commence? 
 'Tis a death story, a story of blood !" And 
 while Mrs. Pinkley was making efforts to 
 appear distracted indeed she actually fan 
 cied some impending danger a man was 
 looking in, and listening from the outside 
 he could see into the room through a small 
 opening in the shutter ; he heard her passiun
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 157 
 
 nte words : lie was well muffled up, and as 
 he heard the step of some wandering police 
 man, he moved away from the window un 
 til it passed; he then resumed his position, 
 as if determined to catch every word and 
 watch every motion. 
 
 " Mrs. Pinkley," said the doctor, assuming 
 the calmest possible tone, " pray tell me 
 what has happened ; is medical aid necessary ? 
 let me know at once." 
 
 "0 doctor! you can be of little service 
 now ; 'tis, I fear, too late, too late ; let me 
 think a moment, and I will tell you all." She 
 stooped and hid her face in her hands, as 
 if afraid to look at the light or at the man 
 before her. "You remember, doctor, that I 
 told you this morning I wanted to see Doctor 
 Buster ; I heer'd he was back. He was away 
 for some days, and I thought he might want 
 to know about the children, and I wanted 
 to tell him how his wife was troubled with 
 these spasms, so as in case any thing happen 
 ed that he might be prepared for the worst. 
 Well, I saw the doctor, but I was delayed 
 longer than I expected. I Imrried back, but 
 before I came here, I just looked into my 
 own house to see if things was all right. 
 I met Bessy at the door ; there was some 
 thing wild in her look. O that unfortu 
 nate girl, that I tried to save from misery and 
 starvation ! Years ago I took pity on her ; she 
 was a humpbacked foundling, and I brought 
 her up as if she was my own child. I've 
 had a world of trouble with her, doctor ; I 
 tried to teach her something, but she was 
 only a halt-idiot at best. 'Twas in a place 
 like this she ought to have been I see it 
 uow when it's too late. However, when I got 
 the doctor's children to my charge, she seem 
 ed to take to them for a time, but she was 
 often very cross and headstrong, and cruel ; 
 but of course the children wouldn't tell me, 
 the poor tilings bore with a good deal that 
 I never heerd of. Anyhow, lately and it was 
 by mere chance I discovered I found that 
 she got acquainted with some man who she 
 kept about the place, and I also found that 
 she sometimes actually let him into the house ; 
 just think of that. I missed some things; he 
 was, I suppose, one of our street thieves ; 
 what a companion for an honest girl ! She 
 said he was some kind of a peddler ; and when 
 I reproved her for her vile conduct I only said 
 a few wor.ls she grew terribly angry, and 
 began to threaten, as she always did when 
 I made the least complaint. I often heerd 
 her say that if I scolded her she would 
 make away with herself, or take poison, or 
 do something very bad ; you know, doctor, 
 that I am but a poor scold, but I got accus 
 tomed to Bessy's threats and I didn't mind 
 them. I mentioned this matter once, I think, 
 to Doctor Buster, but he only treated it as a 
 silly joke; in tact, he is too kind-hearted a 
 man to think bad of a creature that seemed 
 so forlorn at times ; indeed, he pitied Bessy 
 as much a* I did. However, when I lel't the 
 h mse this afternoon to come here, every thing 
 appeared quiet enough, except that I noticed 
 that Bessy had but little to say she was 
 rather surly. Ah! what a confiding fool I 
 was; for when I returned to the house, just 
 
 about dark, what did I see? O doctor! 
 'twas terrible. When I went in, I could 
 see no person ; every thing was very quiet, 
 as I said. I called, no one answered, no Bes 
 sy could be seen. I began to grow alarm 
 ed, I called again and again ; I ran up-staira 
 at last, and, when I looked into the room, 
 gracious God ! what did I find ? I thought 
 I would drop ; little Frank lay on the floor, 
 the blood streaming from him, and when I 
 screamed and tried to lift him, he was dead ! 
 Oh ! yes, doctor, dead ! A heart of stone would 
 then pity me; I must have fainted. When 
 I got al')le to move about again, I laid the 
 poor child on the bed, and put a covering 
 over him. While doing this, my suspicions 
 was provoked ; I thought of the wicked girl, 
 and of her bad companion I guessed the truth 
 at once! I thought of that horrid Bessy, 
 and of the vagabond she was encouraging. 
 I saw at once that I was robbed ; and while 
 looking here and there in the room, I was 
 terrified by a loud scream. I heard a noise 
 or struggle in Bessy's room ; I rail in, and 
 there she lay on her bed, as I thought, in 
 some kind of fit. She was foaming at the 
 mouth and grasping at the bed-clothes. She 
 had taken poison. The cup was on the ta 
 ble by the bedside, and there was sufficient 
 left in it to satisfy me that she had com 
 mitted a double-murder I almost felt cer 
 tain of this. O the unfortunate wretch ! I 
 forgot to tell you, that when I went to see 
 Doctor Buster this morning, I took Alice with 
 me to see her father. It was fortunate, for I 
 am sure if she had been left with her brother 
 she would, no doubt, have shared his fate. 
 What a providential escape ! See, doctor, I 
 brought this paper with me, 'twas on the 
 table near the cup ; it contains the remains 
 of a white powder I'm sure 'tis arsenic. Bes 
 sy was dead in about ten minutes after I 
 got into her room ; I tried to do all I could 
 to save her, but 'twas no use. What was 
 I then to do? I did not want to alarm the 
 neighborhood. I fastened the door, got a 
 cab, and drove at once to Doctor Buster's. 
 I told the poor man the sad story ; he went 
 almost distracted, God help him ! he did ; 
 and we had, of course, to keep it as secret 
 as the grave from poor Alice ; she is very 
 delicate, and such horrid news might bring 
 her to death's door. I got a good woman 
 of my acquaintance to remain with her, and 
 the doctor came back with me. He is alone 
 now with his dead child, and his heart is 
 ready to break. "Pis a dreadful providence, 
 Doctor Marks ; something must be done. 
 Doctor Buster wants to seu you at once ; he 
 knows you can feel for his affliction." 
 
 "This is, indeed, dreadful," said Doctor 
 Marks. " Are you sure they are dead ? Is it 
 not possible to do any thing for them ? I am 
 sorry you did not run here for me at once, be 
 fore you went for Doctor Buster ; I might have 
 been in time even then." 
 
 " O doctor ! I was so distracted, I'm sure I 
 scarcely knew what to do. They were dead 
 yes, dead before I left, and I thought it best 
 to tell the child's father at once." 
 
 " Well, well, 'tis a sad business, Mrs. Pink 
 ley. I can do but little now to lessen the griei
 
 158 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 of the bereaved father ; but I will see him, I 
 will do what I can; 'tis a sad, sad affair with 
 his other troubles." 
 
 " Very sad, doctor ; afflictions seem to follow 
 that poor man they do follow God's people. 
 'Twas bad enough before, as you know, now 
 'tis dearth and such a death ! I dread to go 
 near the place again." 
 
 " I can uudersi and your feelings. Were it 
 an ordinary visitation of Providence, one 
 might be in a measure prepared ; but here we 
 have sudden deaths ! not one alone, but a foul 
 murder a suicide a double calamity ! Were 
 it even such as could only affect yourselves, it 
 might be more easily borne ; but it is a matter 
 that can not, must not, be kept secret. The 
 news of this will startle the whole communi 
 ty. There will be comments in the papers, 
 vexatious rumors and speculations, the public 
 inquest, and the harrowing notoriety which 
 will follow." 
 
 Inquest ! The word darted through her 
 brain like fire. She never thought of that 
 horrid ordeal. The room commenced to turn 
 round, its rotary motion increased, her sight 
 grew dim, and she would have fallen from her 
 chair were it not for the prompt assistance of 
 Doctor Marks. The man outside the window 
 still listened ; he now scarcely moved, and he 
 heard every word. 
 
 "Did you say ' inquest,' doctor ?" said she, 
 striving to appear calm ; " not surely an in 
 quest '? They died like others not surely ah 
 inquest, doctor ?" 
 
 " This outrage has upset you no wonder. 
 It would require strong nerves and a wicked 
 heart to remain indifferent. A deed of blood 
 has been committed, an inquest is indispensa 
 ble. You would, of course, be anxious to dis 
 cover the perpetrator." 
 
 The respectable dead of the Home had often 
 been delivered to mourning relatives ; there 
 was nothing secret in their manner of removal, 
 there were few inquests held over the defunct 
 of Doctor Marks's establishment ; they were 
 shrouded and coffined and publicly taken 
 away, and no one cared to ask a question. 
 Mrs. Pinkley knew this, and now she wanted 
 her dead hurried out. What did she care in 
 this case for Christian burial ? There were 
 the bodies, dreadful to look at ; she would 
 readily take them across the way, and thrust 
 them underground by the side of dead Jews. 
 She wanted no inquest, and her charity was 
 sufficiently expansive at the time even to for 
 give the murderer. 
 
 " 'Tis bad enough as it is what good will 
 an inquest do? Think of a father's feelings; 
 but you know best, Doctor Marks, you know 
 best. We will see Mm about it, let us be 
 guided by what he says ; he will advise for 
 the best, if he can advise at all in this 
 extremity." 
 
 Mrs. Pinkley began to pluck up her latent 
 courage ; she had been taken unawares the 
 case was desperate. No ; she would never 
 flinch now, but was resolute and already de 
 termined to resort to a desperate remedy. 
 
 Doctor Marks at once prepared to go out. 
 Mrs. Pinkley left the room, she had some 
 instructions to give to the attendants, and 
 would be back in a few minutes. She went 
 
 into an adjoining apartment, whispered to a 
 waiting-woman, and then went up-stairs to her 
 own room. The keeper sat in an arm-chair, 
 and seemed half-asleep as she passed through 
 the long hall ; but as soon as he thought she 
 was out of sight, he looked sharply around 
 and went on tip-toe to the end ol the upper 
 stairs and stopped to listen ; when he heard 
 her returning she remained but a minute or 
 two he resumed his place in the chair, and 
 affected to be startled when she gently tapped 
 him on the shoulder. 
 
 " Oh ! is that you, ma'am ? I declare I didn't 
 hear you ; I " 
 
 " Never mind, Staples, I just wanted to tell 
 you that I have to go out again ; the doctor 
 wants me to attend him in a case not far off; 
 I may be away an Lour or two. The pa 
 tient in No. 19, next to my room, is very 
 restless to night ; she is, I'm nfeard, sinking, 
 and I want you to remind Mrs. Jenkins to 
 attend to her in about an hour'8 t time, punc 
 tual. 'Tis not eleven yet ; you stay in here 
 until the doctor returns he may be back be 
 fore me, he may want me to stay out longer 
 for all I know. Anyway, Staples, don't for 
 get I'll be back as soon as^I can that's a 
 good fellow." 
 
 Just as she was about to leave the hall, 
 plaintive murmuring was heard in one of the 
 rooms ; there were words of woe and despon 
 dency, and then a melancholy voice droned 
 out: 
 
 41 Behold ! with awful pomp, 
 
 The Judge prepares to come. 
 Th' archangel sounds the dreadful trump. 
 And wakes the general doom." 
 
 She was startled, unusually so ; her natural 
 firmness seemed to have been a little shaken 
 at the moment ; the keeper noticed her trepi 
 dation, but it quickly passed ; she felt slightly 
 annoyed at her own weakness, and, as she left 
 him, her thin lips were compressed and her 
 step more determined. 
 
 When she went down, she called Mrs. 
 Jenkins, the nurse, into a kind of dispensing- 
 room ; there were shelves at one end and 
 several drawers and bottles with latinized 
 labels ; but Mrs. Pinkley generally exercised 
 a prudent caution, she knew nothing of Acct. 
 Plumb., Ant. Tart., Sac. Jwiip. , Hi/d. Submur., 
 Pulv. Pota*s., or Pil. Rhei.; and was, there 
 fore, careful how she ventured to compound, 
 lest a fatal mistake should follow through her 
 ignorance. Sad occurrences of this nature 
 often took place, she knew they were quite 
 common ; but as she was known to be extreme 
 ly particular, and very cautious about touch 
 ing drugs, she was trusted in this, respect 
 more than any other person in the establish 
 ment. There were a few simples, however, 
 which she could venture to handle. Doctor 
 Marks hnd these placed so as to be within 
 reach at any time ; and as sedatives were often 
 required, she as often prepared them without 
 reference to her principal. While her atten 
 dant was engaged at a little distance, Mrs. 
 Pinkley drew from her bosom a MUiill pack 
 age, and took from it one of a number of 
 small papers folded up like those containing 
 medical powders ; she then emptied a few 
 grains of a white substance into a bottle,
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 159 
 
 then poured in some water, added a little 
 coloring, shook all up, and, having corked the 
 bottle, handed it to the woman. 
 
 " You see, Nancy, I leave a good deal to 
 you at times. I told the doctor that I have 
 great confidence in you, and your allowance 
 is to be increased from the beginning of next 
 month ; he did so on my recommendation, 
 and I can do m^re for you yet. I'm sorry I 
 have to go out again ; I want you to look 
 after No. 19, give her this in about an 
 hour's time ; see that she takes it now don't 
 forget ; here, take this too." And she handed 
 Mrs. Jenkins, the nurse, a half-crown, and left 
 a sedative for one patient which was intended 
 to heal mental and bodily ailments forever. 
 
 While Mrs. Pinkley was engaged outside, 
 Doctor Marks examined the contents of the 
 paper which she left on his table. He touched 
 his tongue to the white powder, he then ap 
 plied a chemical test, and was satisfied that 
 arsenic had been taken or administered. He 
 folded up the paper, laid it carefully in a 
 drawer and locked it up ; but he thought it 
 useless to prepare an antidote, as no doubt 
 the potent poison had already done its work. 
 
 Mrs. Pinkley was now ready, and they 
 went away together to the house of death ; 
 but before they were hidden in the gloom of 
 the dark street, they were watched and 
 followed by the man who had been looking 
 in at the window. 
 
 The large front door of the Home was 
 again securely bolted, the keeper heard their 
 departure ; he now stood in the long hall close 
 to the lamp, and was examining the contents 
 of a small folded paper which he had picked 
 up. The light shone full upon his face, dis 
 playing sharp, shrewd features, evidently 
 those of an active, intelligent man. Having 
 satisfied himself with the scrutiny, he put the 
 paper carefully in his pocket, and" went quick 
 ly to the upper apartments. Looking closely 
 into a little recess near Mrs. Pinkley 's private 
 room, he withdrew a key ; this he applied to 
 the lock of the adjoining chamber, the bolt 
 flew back, he moved quietly away, and in a 
 few moments the patient, known in the Home 
 ai No. 19, stood in the passage ; and while 
 there, the same melancholy voice which was 
 heard almost continually recommenced its 
 doleful pleadings for mercy. In the dim 
 light she looked like a midnight spectre. She 
 wore the dark dress allotted to the female pa 
 tients of Doctor Marks'sestablishment.herhair 
 was partly loose, and her face deadly pale, 
 while her faltering step indicated great feeble 
 ness. She looked anxiously after the keeper, 
 as he went slowly on before her, and, by 
 placing one hand against the wall she 
 managed to follow him through the long 
 hall, then slowly down a back-stairs, at the 
 foot of which she was obliged to take his 
 irm, and in a few steps more she was con 
 ducted into the private reception-room of the 
 Home. 
 
 it was a neat, carpeted apartment, well- 
 lighted up. Oh ! how the cheerful fire, the 
 /apered walls, the pictures and polished 
 furniture reminded her of a home now almost 
 remote in her memory. She sat upon a sofa, 
 a r'imness grew before her eyes, and she 
 
 could scarcely see. She had not as yet per 
 ceived any person, and when her hand was 
 gent v Taised from where it hung by her 
 side, and when she heard the mellow, tremu 
 lous, sympathizing voice of a friend a voice 
 she must have heard bef re she leaned back 
 and sobbed pitifully, like a child ; and then, 
 when she found her sight restored, and when 
 she looked pleadingly upward anxious to dis 
 cover a compassionate face, Martin Mannors 
 stood befoie her trying to hide his manlj 
 tears. 
 
 " Dear lady, how I have pitied you how I 
 have sought after you for dreary months, but 
 I have found you at last. What a gratifica 
 tion it is to know that even in this place, even 
 in this prison, you have so far escaped thj 
 designs of your persecutors. I am indebted 
 for a knowledge of your existence here, and 
 for this interview, to a generous friend who 
 has devoted his time and his means iuc the 
 purpose of counteracting the vile projects of 
 an inhuman man. You have had a sad trial. 
 yet with your restoration "you may but find 
 another grief. Oh! that with liberty 1 could 
 bring you happy tidings. How am I to tell 
 you all ? Alas ! I may but darken your exis 
 tence, and cause you to wish for the deep sleep 
 which knows no waking. But still you must 
 live ; there is one who will still look up to you 
 and call you ' mother ' for her sake you must 
 make an effort." 
 
 " For her sake, did you say ?" said the 
 startled woman, who now stood up and. 
 looked with intense earnestness into the face 
 of Mr. Mannors, " for her sake ! Ah ! think, 
 kind friend, there are two pretty ones. Yes, 
 I will live for my children ! For Jier sake, 
 say you '! What of my boy, my pretty child 
 there are two, kind friend what of ;ny 
 darling boy ? Oh ! tell me, tell me all, or I 
 will go mad at last." Sue seized Mr. Manners 
 by the arm and trembled violently. 
 
 " Good (lod! you make no reply. Heaven 
 pity me now ! O my child ! my child ! my 
 boy can it be this at last '!" 
 
 " I do pity you, poor lady, we all pity you ; 
 but you can live for one we trust that one ig 
 still left." 
 
 She could hear no more ; the black shadows 
 of woe gathered around her, and she was 
 about to sink in a swoon before him. Sho 
 was just able to exclaim, " Oh! that this were 
 death !" and then (ell heavily at his feet.* 
 
 " Hark ! she />rays for death he is near, for 
 here is his messenger. Come, nurse, grant her 
 request." 
 
 Mr. Mannors was startled, the deep stillness 
 of the few preceding moments totally unpre 
 pared him for this interruption. He turned 
 around, the keeper stood looking in from the 
 door, the nurse was by his side, and she held 
 the bottle of medicine which Mrs. Pinkley 
 left with her to be administered. The woman 
 seemed rather timid, she hesitated, but the 
 keeper was urgent. 
 
 " Come, nurse, you may be too late I was 
 told to remind you. If a spark of life remains, 
 you have that which will do death good ser 
 vice. See, we brought her down here for you ; 
 
 * See Note J.
 
 160 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 'twill save trouble she will be nearer her 
 grave. Psha ! woman, are you afear'd V what 
 will Mrs. Pinkley say ?" 
 
 The woman was bewildered ; what did it 
 all mean V She looked from one to the other 
 for an explanation ; she did not know that 
 there was a stranger in the house at that 
 time of night, and could not account for the 
 scene before her. Just then the back en 
 trance of the house was opened, and another 
 stranger entered he was a stout, plain-look 
 ing man. She began to grow afraid, and lest 
 the bottle should fall from her hand, the 
 keeper took it from her. The person who had 
 last come in was Robert, the trusty servant 
 of Mr. Manners, who had been acting as a 
 detective, and she felt relieved when she was 
 called to assist in placing the lady upon the 
 sofa. Restoratives were immediately applied, 
 and while the poor lady still seemed in a kind 
 of stupor, she was carefully attended. The 
 nurse, upon being questioned, acknowledged 
 that Mrs. Pinkley had given her the bottle, 
 that she had mixed the medicine, and had 
 cautioned her particularly to get the patient 
 in No. 19 to take it as a draught that night. 
 She declared that she did not know herself 
 what the bottle contained, only that she was 
 told it was a " draught." 
 
 " Twould be a final draught," said the 
 keeper ; " but I rather guess we'll keep it for 
 the benefit of some one else. Now, nurse, I'm 
 in command here at present ; I want you to 
 take good care of that lady, we are just going 
 to the doc-or's study for a few minutes ; I will 
 send in one of the other women to stay with 
 you ; we will be back soon." He then left the 
 r->om, Mr. Mannors and Robert followed, but 
 he was cautious to lock the doors, and take the 
 keys, so that none could find egress from the 
 establishment. 
 
 Ever since his wife had been placed in the 
 Home, it was the custom of Mr. Mannors to 
 visit the asylum about once every week ; his 
 daughter and Hannah often accompanied him 
 sometimes they went there by themselves dur 
 ing the intervening time. He had this day paid 
 his usual visit ; Robert was with him, and he re 
 mained in conversation with the doctor longer 
 than lie generally did on other occasions. He 
 was anxious to see the keeper he did not let 
 the doctor know this but that attendant had 
 received permission to go out that evening, 
 and had not yet returned. It was nearly dark 
 before Mr. Mannors left the place, and they 
 had proceeded but a short distance when they 
 met Samuel Styles, the very person for whom 
 they had been waiting at the Home. He had 
 been running fast, and was nearly out of 
 breath. He looked excited, and during his 
 quick respiration he hurriedly communicated 
 something which seemed to affect his hearers 
 *nd to decide Mr. Mannors to return with him 
 at once to the Home. 
 
 " She is away now, she has only just got 
 there. I know she'll be back soon for the 
 doctor she must tell him ; she won't tell the 
 detectives but I've already done that for her, 
 I've just been at the station they've scented 
 blood already. I'll just run ahead, you fol 
 low ; I can let you in privately, and we'll see 
 tyha*. turns up." 
 
 It must have occurred to the reader that 
 Samuel Styles was the new keeper at the 
 Home. From the moment that he became de 
 termined to counteract and expose the plans of 
 Doctor Buster, he was, to use his o\vn words, 
 " continually upon his track," and he spared 
 neither time nor pains to obtain all necessary 
 information, or at least such as could be got 
 by the most artful expedients. By means of 
 the memorandum which Doctor Buster had 
 carelessly lost, together with the advertisement 
 taken from the Time*, a sufficient cue was ob 
 tained to lead to the important discovery thai 
 the moderator's wife was immured in the pri 
 vate asylum of Dr. Marks. By his good 
 address, he managed to secure the situation of 
 keeper under the name of Staples, and subse 
 quently, by great tact, secured the high opin 
 ion and good-will of an important personage, 
 Mrs. Pinkley, who was the principal female 
 attendant at the Home. In a few days, with 
 out causing the least suspicion, he learned thi* 
 ins and outs of the whole place. The female 
 patients were kept in the upper rooms ; he 
 soon discovered the occupant of No. 19, and 
 managed to establish a communication \vith 
 her by which she was encouraged to be hope 
 ful, and assured her that she had one watchful 
 friend, who merely waited for an opportu 
 nity to secure her freedom and punish her 
 oppressor. Dr. Marks he found to be an 
 easy-going man, considerate enough ; but Mrs. 
 Pinkley was callous and indifferent to the 
 sufferings of others, particularly to those of her 
 own sex. The patient in No. 19 was kept 
 within hearing of the most violent lunatics, 
 as if to hurry her to madness, and the dreary 
 wailings of Mrs. Mannors could be heard by 
 her almost continually ; in fact, he already de 
 tected that the treatment she had received 
 was specially intended to shorten her exist 
 ence. 
 
 Having made the discovery in the asylum, 
 his next object was to ascertain whether Doc 
 tor Buster's children were in the actual charge 
 of Mrs. Pinkley. According to his engage 
 ment, however, his time was rather limited ; 
 his hours of duty were from nine o'clock A.M. 
 until four P.M., d uring the day , and from six P.M. 
 until midnight. He was required to confine 
 himself strictly to the Home during the night, 
 but the hours between four and six in the 
 afternoon might be spent either in or out of 
 the place, as he liked ; special permission was 
 necessary to enable him to leave the Home at 
 any other time. Mrs. Pinkley 's residence was 
 but a short distance from the asylum ; through 
 the influence of Doctor Buster, she had 
 the privilege of lodging in her own house 
 after a certain hour at night, unless some ur 
 gent case required her attention. Her nightly 
 absence, however, enabled the new keeper to 
 make his most important discoveries, and 
 often after midnight, when off duty, instead 
 of seeking repose, he would steal out, contrary 
 to rules, and if he saw no light, or heard no 
 sound about her place, he would listen, to try 
 and find whether she slept, and then he would 
 speculate upon the nature of her dreams ero 
 he returned to indulge in his own. 
 
 Anxious to gain admittance to Mrs. Pink- 
 ley's house, he once or twice succeeded in be-
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 161 
 
 coming the hearer of a message to her from 
 Doctor Marks ; but though she did not mis 
 trust, she was very guarded, and baffled every 
 effort he made to gain admittance she was 
 sun; to meet him at the door, and keep him 
 outside until she sent her answer. He saw 
 that it would not do to excite her suspicion ; 
 this might destroy his plans. At last, it struck 
 him that by watching from the Jewish ceme 
 tery opposite her house, he might be able to 
 discover who were tke actual members of 
 Mrs. Pinkley's household, and perhaps ascer 
 tain at what particular time Doctor Buster 
 paid his visits. 
 
 Day after day, then, the keeper visited the 
 cemetery, and faithfully spent his two leisure 
 hours watching Mrs. Piukley's house. The 
 door was always kept shut, the lower windows 
 were closely screened, and the upper ones had 
 half-curtains. Once when she was out, the 
 upper curtains were put aside, and he saw 
 three persons Bessy and the two children. 
 The next day he came disguised and with a 
 basket of toys ; he did not go into the ceme 
 tery, but loitered at a corner of the street until 
 he saw Mrs. Pinkley leave the house ; he hur 
 ried to the door and rapped, and the girl, 
 thinking that her mistress had perhaps for 
 gotten something and had returned, opened 
 it ; the peddler pushed his way in, but, as the 
 children were up-stairs, and silent as usual, he 
 merely asked a few questions, looked sharply 
 around the place, and then left, lest by some 
 chance he might be discovered. 
 
 Lately, however, he had not seen Doctor 
 Bnster. What could have detained him ? 
 Were the rumors of his suspected visits 
 after all but an envious scandal ? Night and 
 day, for more than a week, he had been closely 
 watched, but so far his shadow had never 
 darkened the doorway. The keeper was non- 
 pi u^sed. Was he watched himself? and had 
 some churchyard imp given the doctor a 
 timely warning ? His fears, however, were in 
 this respect ill-founded. The devoted moder 
 ator was away at the time, ostensibly upon a 
 visitation to certain churches or congregations 
 as a peace-maker. Sometimes even where 
 prayers and sermons are most plenty the 
 enemy of souls will intrude, and children of 
 the same church will wrangle, and lambs of 
 the same fold will lose their spirituality and 
 become like ravening wolves, ready to devour 
 eacli other, and pious pastors will desert a 
 congregation for one more deserving of their 
 sympathies ; who can say whether the fresh 
 ''call " is so promptly answered because a sti 
 pend is to be increased, or because others are 
 in greater spiritual destitution? Anyway, 
 the call is generally answered, old ties are 
 rudely sundered, pastors often leave their old 
 flocks to take care of themselves, and the 
 moderator had often much to do to suppress 
 schism, to keep the sheep from wandering 
 away into other folds, and to reconcile de 
 serted sinners to their temporary abandon 
 ment. 
 
 At last he camel The keeper was again 
 in the cemetery, it was a gloomy evening and 
 drawing toward dusk. He saw Doctor Buster 
 enter the house ; after a short time he heard 
 i scream, he rushed toward the place. Mrs. 
 
 ! Piukley, who also heard the scream, had just 
 got in before him, and in her alarm neglected 
 to fasten the door. He followed, he heard 
 her reproaches, and witnessed the scene of 
 blood which sent Irim shuddering away. 
 
 It was long past midnight, the afflicted 
 lady in the parlor of the Home still lay almost 
 unconscious upon the sofa. The three men 
 yet remained in Doctor Marks's study. Samuel 
 Styles had given Mr. Mannors a full account 
 of how he had acted since his engagement as 
 keeper, and how his last fortunate discovery 
 was the attempt to administer poison, which 
 was to have been made that night. There 
 was the bottle, its contents could be easily 
 tested, and there was the additional paper of 
 white powder which he had picked up in the 
 hall, and which had been dropped by Mrs. 
 Pinkley at the time she was startled "by the 
 premonitory words of Mrs. Mannors, for it 
 was she who spoke. 
 
 The relation of these things, together with 
 the events of the day, had a saddening effect 
 upon all, and now they sit demurely in the 
 stillness of the night, listening to the bleak, 
 wintry winds which rush and moan around 
 the building, and make the long poplars sigh 
 mournfully in the desolate cemetery. They are 
 aroused ! Footsteps and voices are heard at 
 the door, the night bell resounds through the 
 silent building. They enter not Doctor 
 Marks alone Mrs. Pinkley with drooped head 
 is safely escorted by two detectives! She 
 enters the study, and stares wildly at the men 
 who are there to meet her. They look at her 
 now in silence. Ha ! she knows that face 
 'tis the infidel ! She turns to the keeper, she 
 frowns, she scowls, her hand is clinched, and 
 she bites her lip. Oh ! could she but force 
 him now to swallow the contents of that bot 
 tle. But he holds it out at arm's length, and 
 exhibits the paper of poison. " See," he ex 
 claims, " she is saved !" 
 
 " Saved !" She stood erect before him as if 
 suddenly petrified. A deadly pallor over 
 spread her face. "Saved!" She was grow 
 ing very faint. Was she lost herself ? She 
 revived again, and her hopeless, wandering 
 gaze rested upon Mr. Mannors. " Yes, 'tis 
 but an infidel plot I see it all now a vile 
 plot, Doctor Marks, an infamous lie. But I 
 am weary, and 'tis very late. Let me rest 
 here to-night, let me think, and I will prove it 
 all to-morrow." 
 
 The gray dawn of the wintry morning 
 stole in through the curtained window of a 
 small upper room in the Home, and, as the 
 light slowly increased and struggled for ad 
 mittance, the dim outlines of a chair, a table, 
 and a bedstead could just be discovered 
 Every thing was still : and. as thf light grew 
 stronger, an emptv cup could be seen on the 
 table and the muffled form of a wearied sleepei 
 on the bed. But now the stillness is broken, 
 and a voice at a short distance wails out, " Lost, 
 lost, lost." It is quiet again, and not the 
 faintest sound of breathing can be heard. 
 What a lethargy ! Even the drowsy watcher 
 outside the room door is listening to the silence. 
 Still the torpid form lies stretched upon the 
 bed it never moves its last breath has been 
 drawn. Ah 1 how had death entered ? The
 
 162 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 fatal draught had at last been given ! and- 
 Mrs. Pinkley had made her escape. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 THERE was to be a public inquest at the 
 Home ! one unlike any that had ever taken 
 place there before A posse of ignorant ju 
 rors would soon be assembled ; they might 
 take it into their heads to extend their judi 
 cial privi'eges, and to go tramping through 
 the whole place, causing confusion ; and after 
 that, their blundering verdict might bring fi 
 nancial ruin upon the entire establishment. 
 It was very provoking to one of Doctor Marks's 
 staid and precise respectability. He was 
 very much agitated, he felt himselt singular 
 ly compromised, and that his position would 
 be considered rather questionable. He was 
 already conscience-stricken. Danger seemed to 
 be looming up around him. Was he not lia 
 ble to be accused as being an accomplice in a 
 shameful system of persecution toward one 
 who had been placed in his power ? Would 
 he uot be looked upon as one so thoroughly 
 base, as to have acted in cooperation with a 
 heartless, infamous woman, in order to carry 
 out an inhuman design, or for the sake of the 
 paltry sum which was to be the reward of 
 systematic cruelty ? Friends of the patients, 
 and other persons who had already called and 
 obtained admission that morning were, he 
 thought, rather shy toward him ; and, as he 
 went about from place to place, he was fol 
 lowed by curious eyes, and in imagination 
 public curiosity seemed to be already drifting 
 into public suspicion. In this trying time, he 
 had scarcely a single friend in whom he could 
 confide, and he was obliged to assume a calm 
 demeanor while he was agitated by wild and 
 conflicting emotions. Oh ! how he could have 
 cursed his own pliability and that clerical 
 impostor whose specious piety had lured him 
 into this vortex of trouble. He was very anx 
 ious ; as yet there was no accusation made 
 against him, but he felt every moment as if 
 the hand of justice was about to be laid on 
 his shoulder. What if some vile endeavor 
 should be made to blast his prospects ? What 
 if his patients should see that stiffened body 
 lying in the hall, and should get startled 
 back to sanity at the sight of its distorted fea 
 tures? There was trouble on every side, and 
 his hopes, and his honor, and his respectabili 
 ty seemed to have almost withered away. 
 The terrible news of the murder and poison 
 ing of the previous evening had been heard 
 all over the city, and early in the day a crow-d 
 of idle persons had assembled outside the 
 Home, in expectation of being able to get 
 a chance sight of the noted woman who was 
 supposed to be the accomplice of Doctor 
 Buster, if not, indeed, the very principal in 
 the horrid crime which had been committed. 
 Already several palliating circumstances and 
 many excuses were framed in behalf of the 
 reverend moderator ; and a number of sturdy 
 Christians were quite prepared to assert that 
 Doctor Buster could not possibly be guilty of 
 
 a crime, but that it was a de^p-laid plot, an 
 infidel design, against a well-known servant 
 of the Lord. The blind confidence of the pi 
 ous would not be easily shaken, and soon as 
 the religious papers made their appearance 
 they would defend him in thunder tones and 
 hurl defiance at his accusers. Large bail was 
 promptly tendered, and he was still at liberty. 
 
 Any way, there was to be a j udicial exa 
 mination. Mrs. Pinkley, and Doctor Buster, 
 and Samuel Styles, and others would be 
 brought face to face at the police court. It 
 would be a feast for the press, and reporters 
 made early preparations so as to be able to 
 send full accounts to their respective papers. 
 Doctor Marks had pledged himself for the ap 
 pearance of Mrs. Pinkley before the magistrates 
 or at an inquest, and as a matter of greater 
 security, two detectives were to have her un 
 der surveillance ; she should get no chance to 
 slip away. The investigation was to take place 
 in the forenoon, and other officers of justice had 
 already arrived at the Home for the purpose of 
 procuring certain witnesses and to conduct 
 the accused to the legal tribunal. 
 
 They had been waiting there for some time, 
 the hours passed quickly ; punctuality was ne 
 cessary, and there could not be much further 
 delay. It was, however, very late when the 
 accused woman had been permitted to retire ; 
 no doubt she had great need of rest that is, if 
 repose were possible to one in her position. 
 The detectives watched in turn outside her 
 room during the night. It was now nine 
 in the morning, and she had not yet made her 
 appearance, neither could the officer who kept 
 watch at the time hear the least sound of pre 
 paration. Excitement, shame, and mortifica 
 tion must have kept her awake during the 
 night, and heavy sleep must have at last over 
 powered her. But justice could not wait it 
 is a petulant thing. Minos or Radamanthua 
 would brook no delay. Ate stood claiming re 
 tribution, and should she not have it 1 
 
 Is not the justice of Christian civilization 
 more rigid in its demands t It is ever eager 
 for its prey, it is righteous ; vengeance is its 
 handmaid, and reformation is but a step 
 daughter which it elbows aside to be nurtured 
 by visionary philantrhopists. It must feel no 
 pity tears can not affect its purity ; they may 
 drop unheeded forever upon its marble bosom , 
 the quality of mercy might be degrading to 
 its dignity. It must have no human sympa 
 thies. It frowns upon the wretched culprit in 
 the dungeon ; and when its decree lias gone 
 forth, when even human life is the sacrifice to 
 be laid upon its altar, it will not waver. It 
 can heed no natural emotion, but it will staltt 
 away from the scaffold with haughty tread, 
 severe brow, and fingers dripping in gore- 
 for, alas 1 is it not more noble than humanity? 
 Ah! who is to arraign justice for its cruelties? 
 Who is to blot out its teicts and statutes of 
 blood? Who is to stop its legalized atroci 
 ties forever 1 
 
 As yet, there was no stir in Mrs. Pinkley's 
 room ; the detectives rapped there was no 
 reply. A woman was sent for to demand 
 admittance and to hurry her out ; and 
 though the woman rapped and called lustily 
 and long enough, still no answer came ; the
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 1C3 
 
 
 Bleoper was not aroused, and, after many other I 
 unsuccessful attempts had been made, the of- ' 
 ficers grew impatient and suspicious, the door 
 was burst open, and when the nurse entered 
 and uncovered the sleeper's face she started 
 back in affright behold, Mrs. Pinkley was 
 dead! 
 
 The discovery was quite shocking ; the ex 
 citement throughout the place was very great. 
 Those who had assembled outside the house 
 were much disappointed ; they became clam 
 orous and unruly, and tried to gain admission ; 
 they were anxious to see the Jezebel living 
 or dead, and when they could not succeed in 
 effecting an entrance, they muttered curses 
 against her who had eluded justice. 
 
 Doctor Marks was agitated, the keeper 
 seemed confounded, and maids, nurses, and 
 attendants appeared frightened or bewildered. 
 There were ominous whispers among visitors ; 
 there were strange preparations ; the frown 
 ing corpse was stretched out in the long hall 
 it did not receive tender handling there was 
 no solemnity. The curious gazed with unfeel 
 ing eye, the timid stood aloof, and, while it 
 lay uncared for in the gloom, messengers were 
 dispatched for the coroner. 
 
 In consequence of this unexpected act in 
 the drama, the magistrates who had as 
 sembled in order to hold a preliminary exam 
 ination had to adjourn. Three inquests were 
 to be held that day, and Doctor Buster might 
 perhaps be able to have another day or two to 
 prepare his defense, and to bless and pray for 
 his sympathizing friends. They came in a 
 little crowd ; he was again in the pleasant 
 parlor of his reverend friend, Mr. Campbell, 
 and, though he was but slightly flushed, 
 and to all appearance perfectly resigned 
 to meet what certain pillars of the church 
 called his fresh ordeal of persecution, those 
 only who looked at him sharply could detect 
 the traces of great anxiety which were visible 
 on his countenance. But he managed, 
 however, to receive the numerous visits of 
 clerical and legal friends, and to smile benig- 
 nantly upon dowagers, spinsters, and other 
 sighing sisters who came to proffer their stock 
 of pious sympathy. 
 
 Yet all this could not last, he was again 
 alone. He said he needed a little rest, and so 
 he did ; but when alone, then came his brood 
 ing thoughts, the most cheerless and harass 
 ing of all intruders. What dire despondency 
 they brought ! Could it be that she with 
 whom he had so cheerfully conversed the 
 previous day, before whom he had laid his 
 future plans, was already a suicide, lying 
 perhaps at that very moment under the cold 
 gaze of an investigating jury ? Oh! that un 
 fortunate blow ; and as he looked down at his 
 right hand, he could have wished it withered 
 from his ann. Still he felt but little re:nor*e 
 for the death of his child, but he felt a deep 
 dread of hopeless loneliness. His mainstay 
 had been cut down. Within the short period 
 of on.- wintry day, his future had been blasted, 
 and his shrewd, unprincipled, courageous con 
 fident had been balked, baffled, overreached, 
 and driven to destruction. And when he 
 then, almost met the calm, defiant look of 
 Martin Manners, and almost heard the re 
 proaches of his outraged wife, and when in 
 
 ' 
 
 the terror of imagination he beheld the pros- 
 trate form of his paramour, and saw the fixed 
 stare of her sightless eyes, and saw her 
 clenched hands, compressed lips, a^nd distorted 
 features, the very shadow of death seemed to 
 encompass him he shrunk and crouched in 
 horror and dismay, and wished for sudden 
 annihilation. 
 
 An hour of misery had passed how he 
 dreaded the future! He could find no rest. 
 Were he only secure of being left alone, and 
 within reach of some strong opiate, he 
 might be tempted to follow her who had 
 proved so resolute in self-destruction. Even 
 then he admired her infamous courage cou 
 rage which his overbearing disposition could 
 not, however, equal. She, in possession of her 
 faculties, took the desperate plunge when she 
 saw no chance of escape. He might be aroused 
 to do so w^re his senses sufficiently blunted, 
 and were he satisfied that his infamy was 
 about to be detected and exposed. Still hia 
 love of life was strong ; as yet he stood fair in 
 the eyes of many he was one of God's minis 
 ters and many scoffed at the accusation. 
 They deznanded proof where was the evi 
 dence ? It was but an infamous plot they 
 dreaded no investigation. 
 
 But the doctor did dread such a proceeding ; 
 it could not be now avoided. He was still in 
 deep thought ; there was a faint ray of hope, 
 and he clung to this like a drowning mariner 
 to a plank. " What is the evidence ? who is 
 to prove against me? The humpback alone 
 saw the blow, but her account is settled. 
 Poor Fan did not see me, but she knew all 
 she too is beyond their reach. Then who is 
 to prove? Law is law, they must convict 
 legally. A man's life should not hang upon 
 mere circumstantial evidence. Who is to tes 
 tify ?" He pondered for a few moments ; his 
 emotions of hope and fear quickly came and 
 went, bringing assurance or despondency, and 
 were as visible on his face as freaks of light 
 ning across a thundercloud in the darkness of 
 midnight. But suddenly the mental illusion 
 disappeared ; his hopes again seemed pros 
 trated. Was there not another present when 
 the blow was struck ? Had not Alice seen 
 all ? Would it not be dreadful were his own 
 child obliged to speak in evidence against 
 him ? He was struggling again with despair 
 and he almost writhed in mental torture 
 Yet once more l here came a nickering of hope. 
 He started where was Alice? In the midst 
 of his own troubles, he had never given her a 
 thought ! Where was she ? he felt but little 
 doubt of her safety, but could she not be put 
 beyond the reach of his ferocious inquisitors ? 
 Could she not be tutored to lie to deny all 
 knowledge of the fatal blow ? Could she not 
 be sent away, or confined, or any thing he 
 did ii!>t care what, so as she could be kept out 
 of sight ? Ay, in this desperate case, and in 
 his present mood, he would not object to have 
 her strangled, were he only able to find an 
 accomplice; but the trusty hand that might 
 have lent him ready aid was now powerlflM 
 forever. 
 
 The accused man was in an extremity ; time 
 was pressing, he would be obliged to appear 
 that afternoon or early next day at the in 
 quest which was to be held over the body of
 
 164 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 his own son and also over that of the poor 
 humpbacked girl. The sudden death of Mrs. 
 Pinkley had caused delay. Fortunately, he 
 was not required to appear at the asylum; 
 but no plea of indisposition, nor any other 
 plea whatever could save him from a horrid 
 notoriety ; he would be forced to attend, he 
 would have to view the remains of his dead 
 child, and to meet his accusers face to face. 
 Still he could do all this, he could view his 
 bloody work without a shudder ; yes, he could 
 go and boldly deff all, could he but get Alice 
 out of the way ; that girl should be disposed 
 of, and it should be done at once. 
 
 She must be found, no matter when, or 
 where, or how. Caution required, however, 
 that he should not appear too anxious con 
 cerning this matter before others. Then whom 
 could he trust ? Where could he get one to [ 
 be faithful and to do his bidding ? He would 
 pay a princely price for the work ; he had 
 ample funds, for on the previous day, antici 
 pating the happy flight he expected to take 
 with Mrs. Pinkley, he drew a thousand 
 pounds upon the indorsement of the Rev. An 
 drew Campbell. With a full purse and a 
 willing agent, he ought to be able to do much ; 
 where could he find the right person ? Stay ! 
 lie feels relieved, he has been trying to think 
 who among the faithful was worthy of his 
 confidence at this critical time he feels again 
 assured. There is another gleam of hope, he 
 has hit upon the right one he has found an 
 ally he would send at once for Bross. 
 
 The inquest at the Home was over ; it was a 
 tedious post-mortem case, but, after all, the 
 j urors had not much to do. The evidence was 
 direct, and went to prove that the late princi 
 pal female attendant of the Home had retired 
 at a certain hour on the previous night ap 
 parently in good health, it might be a little 
 weak or fatigued, and that in the morning she 
 had been found dead in her bed. It was proved 
 that the cup found upon her table conta-ned 
 arsenical sediment, that she had taken such 
 poison, and that several small papers of the 
 dame substance had been found in a private 
 drawer in her room. Every thing went to 
 prove an evil intention on her part. Her de 
 sign upon the life of a female patient in the 
 asylum was made manifest. It was there 
 fore believed that she had taken poison to es 
 cape the legal penalty for murder ; the verdict 
 was in accordance, and in the eyes of many 
 the case looked brighter for Doctor Buster. 
 
 There were loiterers around another door ! 
 How gloomy the place seemed ! It might 
 have Iveu caused by the cold shadows of the 
 tall, leafless trees in the cemetery across the 
 way. It was chilly, and the wintry wind howl 
 ed mournfully through the branches. 'Look 
 in 1 There they still la > the boy in his gore, 
 and the poor girl with a placid smile on her 
 worn features, but stamped there in the marble 
 rigidity of death. Her untold, her unpitied 
 sufferings had ceased, and her little term of 
 patient endurance had ended. There were 
 sighs of real pity ; many of tlie strong men 
 who stood silently around could have shed 
 honest tears ; and there were women present 
 -pious ones, too who could have prayed, but 
 to what purpose? They might pray, it 
 
 would be but a formal muttering. Prayei 
 without faith, like a body without a soul, 
 would be dead. In these latter days, when 
 organizations for prayer are so numerous, pe 
 titions may constantly ascend, but the most or 
 thodox never hope for a notable miracle. The 
 dead may be raised at the general judgment, 
 but not sooner. The inspired word might be 
 true, and its promises very cheerful and con 
 soling, but, alas ! these promises may be now 
 read by the most confident Christian, and there 
 is still a sad lack of faith. Of what avail are 
 those which ^y, " Verily, I say unto you, that 
 whosoever shall say unto this mountain, Be 
 thou removed and be thou cast into the setv, 
 and shall not doubt in his heart, but shall be 
 lieve that those things which he saith shall 
 come to pass, he shall have whatsoever he 
 saith. Therefore I say unto you, What things 
 soever ye desire when ye pray, believe that ye 
 receive them, and ye shall have them." 
 Mark 11 : 23, 24. 
 
 " These signs shall follow them that be 
 lieve : In my name shall they cast out devils ; 
 they shall speak with new tongues ; they 
 shall take up serpents ; and if they drink any 
 deadly thing, it shall not hurt them ; they 
 shall lay hands on the sick, and they shall 
 recover." Mark 16 : 17, 18. 
 
 " Verily, verily, I say unto you. He that 
 believeth on me, the works that I do shall he 
 do also : and greater works than these shall he 
 do, because I go unto my Father and what 
 soever ye shall ask in mv name, that I will do." 
 John 14:13, 13. 
 
 " If two of you shall agree on earth as touch 
 ing any thing that they shall ask, it shall be 
 done for them of my Father which is in 
 heavln." Matt. 18 : 19. 
 
 It is asserted that these and other scriptural 
 promises are applicable for all time. Where 
 are the true believers ? Where are they, e\x-n 
 among the earthly sanctified, who can truly 
 accept these promises, whose faith in them 
 never falters V The lip may utter its prayer, 
 yet the heart has no hope. The inspired 
 promises may be read, but the church must 
 have degenerated. Our Israel has not the 
 faith of the ancient saints. At the present 
 day, faith will neither walk upon the water, 
 remove the mountain, nor raise the dead. 
 Lazarus might have been called from the 
 tomb ; Jairus miglit have had his little 
 daughter restored ; the widow of Nain miglit 
 have been weeping near the city gate, and 
 following in the mournful procession which 
 bore her only son to the grave ; her sobs 
 might have suddenly ceased, and she might 
 have been permitted to clasp his living form 
 once more to her bosom. He who is said to 
 have done these works also said to his dis 
 ciples, that those who had faith in him should 
 perform greater. Has that word lost its 
 power, or is faith in it merely theoretical ? 
 Who now can raise the dead V There they 
 lie ! let the miracle be performed. See that 
 girl ! bring back the smile again to her wan 
 face, and let the pulsations of her loving 
 heart return. Reanimate that little form, and 
 give back the boy to his weeping mother. 
 Alas 1 they move not! Of what worth .are 
 these assurances? to what intent? Neither
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 105 
 
 promise, nor prayer, nor faith hath power to 
 do this thing! Even those who still cling to 
 belief hope not for a miracle, neither for the 
 restoration of such as these. Their faith may 
 be " the substance of things hoped for, the evi 
 dence of things not seen ;" yet though they ac 
 knowledge no existing doubt, they must feel 
 content to wait lor the actual evidence until 
 the " last great day." 
 
 All were in waiting. Doctor Buster came 
 with rather reluctant steps. The minister of 
 St. Andrew's and members of the church 
 wealthy members, too followed, prepared to 
 renew their bonds for the moderator were it 
 necessary. Legal friends came also, who 
 could cross-question, perplex, and almost de 
 molish the evidence of any ordinary witness. 
 Every arrangement had been made to give aid 
 and c >mfort to one so wantonly harassed and 
 accused. The doctor entered ; the place was 
 familiar, bat she was not there to greet him. 
 There were strange faces the coroner and his 
 assistants, police officers and jurors who look 
 ed suspiciously at him, as if eager to give the 
 verdict which he feared. There were others, 
 perhaps accusers or witnesses ; and now, while 
 he tried to assume the air of an injured man 
 and to appear greatly affected, he looked 
 searchingly around for one girlish countenance. 
 He could not see it, neither was that dreaded 
 infidel present. Hope came again and grew 
 stronger. He could look with comparative in 
 difference upon that other little face, bruised 
 and blacks ned, that was there before him yes, 
 he could look, for Alice was not there whose 
 living visage he feared still more to behold. 
 A great point was gained. Bross must have 
 received his message, and acted promptly. 
 His daughter Alice was not there, thanks, no 
 doubt, to Bross. He began to breathe more 
 freely, and to feel himself saved. 
 
 The jurors were sworn, they went to view 
 me bodies, and the legal gentlemen who ap 
 peared on behalf of the crown stated that 
 evidence would be produced to show that 
 the deceased girl had been in the employment 
 of the late Mrs. Pinkley, that she was not of 
 a vicious disposition, as had been improperly 
 reported, and that it was not at all probable 
 that she had committed self-destruction. Evi 
 dence would also prove that she was very 
 much attaclied to the children of Doctor Bus 
 ter, and that she had never committed the 
 least act of violence toward one or the other ; 
 but that, on the contrary, when the boy had 
 been struck down by another, she was heard 
 to bewail him as if dead ; and that there was 
 strong reason to believe that her own death 
 had been effected in a very short time after 
 ward by persons who were then present, and 
 anxious to get her out of the way. 
 
 " Persons who were then present !" The 
 moderator grew nervous who could prove 
 that he was there '! lie whispered to his legal 
 adviser, and that gentleman begged permis 
 sion to interrupt his learned friend by assert 
 ing his doubts as to his ability to procure 
 such proof. Then the doctor looked eagerly 
 around again, yet Alice could not be seen. 
 
 The interruption met with no reply ; the 
 counsel for the crown merely told the jurors 
 
 that they would not be kept waiting for the 
 evidence; he would first call on Samuel 
 Styles. This witness was entirely unknown 
 to Doctor Buster he applied his eye-glass. 
 Samuel Styles! Who is he t He was sworn. 
 In order to explain his position more fully, he 
 gave the jury his reasons for entering the 
 Home as keeper, and how he had detected the 
 plans of the moderator and Mrs Pinkley ; 
 how he had discovered the doctor's imprisoned 
 wife, and how he had watched for the children, 
 and, at last, how he had entered .the house, 
 when he heard the scream, on the very eve 
 ning of the murder. He could not say who had 
 actually struck the blow, but, said he, point 
 ing to the accused minister, " That man was 
 present, and I heard Mrs. Pinkley accuse him 
 of the act, and reproach him for so doing." 
 The doctor turned ghastly pale, and trembled 
 from head to foot. " It is infamous," muttered 
 the Rev. Andrew Campbell, " an infamous 
 plot !" 
 
 " I beg to draw your attention, gentlemen, 
 to the fact," again interrupted the doctor's le 
 gal friend, " that the witness was rather on 
 intimate terms with the deceased girl what 
 proper business could he have had there at 
 the time ? Might it not be asserted, that he is 
 now only acting like a criminal, who, to shield 
 himself, would accuse others ? He is a stran 
 ger one to be suspected where is his proof 
 that my accused friend was in the house ? 
 surely we are not to take the ipse diiit of a 
 man in the very equivocal position of this 
 precious witness." 
 
 " You shall have evidence presently," re 
 plied Samuel Styles ; " I may be a kind of 
 strange in these parts, but I guess I know a 
 thing or two. I can prove that I engaged in 
 the asylum as keeper by the advice of one, per 
 haps known to many present one, anyway, 
 whom to know is to trust. I fifl lowed Mrs. Pink- 
 ley into her house that evening unperceived ; I 
 saw who were there guess I saw too much. 
 I didn't wait a minute, I limbered up and put, 
 and in less than an hour I told my story 
 to the authorities ; that poor girl lying there, 
 was made away with before they got here, 
 she was kneeling by the side of the boy 
 when I left. Anyhow, I'm about right in 
 what I say, and that child coming in will 
 prove the rest." 
 
 All eyes were now turned to the door. Mr. 
 Thomas Bioss entered obsequiously he had 
 already transferred his allegiance. The mod 
 erator as a priest, and the moderator as a 
 prisoner were to him two distinct individu 
 als ; there was no personal identity lie knew 
 neither. Though pious, he was a worldly- 
 wise man, a time-server, and knew where the 
 sunshine was, and there he would bask. Tho 
 doctor was in the shade there let him stay ; 
 Bross would now follow the fortunes of hid 
 great opponent. 
 
 The moderator's heart failed him. Was nht 
 coming V lie dare not look up a sight of that 
 living child would be more terrible than tht 
 sight of the dead one. He heard her weeping 
 and the prayer of his heart then was, " Oh ! 
 that with her tears her eyes might melt 
 away and her tongue refuse its office. Oh '
 
 166 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 that the sight of that mangled body might 
 put her reason to flight, or stop the throbbing 
 of her heart forever." 
 
 She came weeping, poor thing! Oh! how 
 Badly. She was led in tenderly by Mr. Man 
 nors, and at the moment, the intense gaze of 
 pity from nearly all present seemed to bring 
 a hush followed by a deep silence. Men held 
 their breath, and tried to keep back their tears 
 thermite eloquence of nature. They stood 
 aside to let her approach ; her slight form was 
 bent with grief, and she drew near, crying and 
 sobbing as if her heart would break. She ap 
 proached the table, and then, for the first time, 
 looked up ; what a sight met her eyes ! She 
 seemed suddenly overwhelmed; she was sink 
 ing, but ere she fell she was seized and then 
 taken fainting from the crowded room. Had 
 her father's prayer or curse already had its 
 accomplishment ? 
 
 They waited for some time, but a medical 
 gentleman who was in attendance gave it as 
 his opinion that, as the child had received a 
 dreadful shock, it might prove fatal were she 
 again brought in that day. If her evidence 
 was necessary, it must be taken in s >me other 
 place and at some other time. The coroner 
 was of the same opinion ; and, as it was get 
 ting late, he suggested that other evidence 
 might be taken, and that they would then ad 
 journ until the next day. 
 
 A witness Was called, and Mr. Mannors an 
 swered to his name. " I beg respectfully to 
 object to that gentleman's evidence." said 
 Doctor Buster's legal friend, addressing the 
 coroner. "I am sure that you will concur in 
 the opinion that his evidence is not admissi 
 ble." 
 
 These remarks caused some surprise. * 
 
 " Not admissible ! Why BO V" 
 
 " Because he is not a believer in our holy 
 religion. He treats the Holy Scriptures with 
 contempt. He is an infidel a blasphemer." 
 
 The counsel for the crown interfered ; he 
 could not imagine that such a disqualification 
 existed. Were he to judge by appearances, 
 there was not a person present before the court 
 on whom he could more readily depend for a 
 truthful evidence. 
 
 " The learned counsel must, however, ad 
 mit," retorted the other, " that appearances 
 are sometimes very deceptive. Truth from 
 prejudiced lips is too often equal to falsehood. 
 However, if the gentleman is truthful, a plain 
 answer to a plain question will settle the busi 
 ness." 
 
 As it was, the coroner felt rather ashamed of 
 the objection. " Mr. Mannors, you have heard 
 what has been just stated ; will you be good 
 enough to say whether you believe the Holy 
 Bible to be the revealed word of God, binding 
 on all men ? Do you believe in a future state 
 of rewards and punishments '(" 
 
 " Will my answer be satisfactory ? I am 
 not sworn : will my mere word in reference to 
 this be believed 1" 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 "It seems, then, that the evidem-j which I 
 may give against myself will be accepted, 
 while that which I could give against a 
 criminal will be refused. Let it be so it is 
 the result of Christian liberality. I do not 
 
 believe that the Christian Bible is the r^voal 
 ed word of any God, or of any being superioi 
 to man. I can not say whether there is or will 
 be a future state of rewards and punishments. 
 I can neither affirm nor deny ; but I never 
 yet lave had any proof of a post-mortem exis 
 tence. Still, iny fondest hopes are in that 
 direction." 
 
 " Then," said the coroner in a hesitating 
 manner, " I regret that we can not accept any 
 statement from you as legal evidence." 
 
 Well might the coroner and those around 
 him have blushed at such a declaration, and 
 well may intolerance point with pride to its 
 recorded triumphs. There is a statute includ 
 ed among British laws a usage in British 
 practice whereby honest, thoughtful, in 
 credulous men can be wantonly insulted in a 
 public court and unjustly ostracized for their 
 adherence to honest opinion. The exercise of 
 this antiquated bigotry in the nineteenth 
 century should bring the blush of shame to 
 the cheek of every liberal man. 
 
 "As the court has very properly refused that 
 person's evidence, before we adjourn I trust I 
 may be permitted, on behnlf of my accused 
 friend, to show that a deep design has for some 
 time existed against him ; that the very 
 individual whose word or whose oath would 
 not be trusted by honest men, or received in 
 an ordinary court of justice, has not only 
 destroyed the domestic happiness of my client, 
 but has hounded and persecuted him down to 
 the present moment. Not only have the infidel 
 sentiments of that man caused him to be a 
 blight to the happiness of his own wife, so much 
 so as to cause her to be immured in an 
 asylum, but here is evidence to show that he 
 has been the principal agent in leading a once 
 worthy woman down to infamy." Having 
 said this, he held out the letter or note which 
 had been hastily written by Mr. Mannors to 
 the moderator's wife at the time she was try 
 ing to escape from persecution. 
 
 " HAMPSTEAD, June, 1863. 
 " MY DEAR MADAM : I shall meet you 
 again next Thursday at the place appointed. 
 I have already made arrangements for your 
 temporary stay at the Red Lion. In that place, 
 you can be perfectly private. I think you 
 should leave your husband at once, and be 
 free for a time or forever from his vicious con 
 trol. Yours sincerely, 
 
 " MARTIN MANNORS.'' 
 
 " Gentlemen, comment is almost useless, 
 but I consider this letter to be damning proof 
 of the infamy of that man." 
 
 "As I have not been permitted to give evi 
 dence," said Mr. Mannors in a mild tone, " 1 
 trust that I may be allowed to explain why 
 that letter was written, and to prove by others 
 that the persecuted lady first sought me. She 
 is at present beneath ray roof and under my 
 protection, and were it not that she is greatly 
 enfeebled, and that it would be worse than 
 cruelty to bring her here, she could give such 
 a rebuke to her detractors and to mine as would 
 silence them forever." 
 
 " So she could, sir, so she could;" interrupted 
 Mr. Bross ; " I can prove that when "
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 167 
 
 The counsel for the crown rather abruptly 
 stopped the law-clerk's flow ol eloquence, by 
 statiag what, had been just read or said was 
 irrelevant ; it was no matter for the considera 
 tion of the jury. Direct evidence was requir 
 ed, and he had been but a moment or two 
 since assured that if the little girl, Alice, was 
 kept quiet and free from any further excite 
 ment for a few hours, she would be able to 
 give evidence to-morrow ; that evidence was all 
 that was now required before the matter was 
 left to the jury. 
 
 " I guess here's a piece of evidence you won't 
 refuse," said Samuel Styles. " I rather think 
 'twill speak conclusively. I shall leave it 
 with you before we part ; it can be cross- 
 questioned at leisure. He handed the Queen's 
 Counsel a handsome cane, which had been 
 broken in halves ; it was of ebony, and its 
 massive gold handle was covered with blood, 
 which had dried and crisped in its rich chas 
 ing. In searching Mrs. Pinkley's room that 
 morning, he had found it under the mattress 
 of her bed. 
 
 " Now," continued he, pointing to Doctor 
 Buster's legal friend, " that gentleman a kind 
 of hinted that I was a stranger in these pails, 
 and might be acting like a criminal, by trying 
 to throw the load on others. Just ask him if 
 he ever saw that fancy article before, and if 
 he knows who is the owner. I rather hope 
 that his position just now won't be quite as 
 equivocal as he hinted that mine was a spell 
 since. If he can't exactly turn it through his 
 mind, perhaps that other gentleman " and he 
 pointed to the Rev. Andrew Campbell "might 
 refresh his memory, and help him to make a 
 clean guess : not that I exactly want the 
 information myself, 'tan't of no great conse 
 quence to me guess I'm sufficiently posted 
 but these twelve men here might be just a 
 leetle curious and might like to hear their 
 sentiments." 
 
 It was luckv at the moment for Doctor Buster 
 that the broken cane was the object of such 
 general interest. He sat crouched in a corner 
 of the room, and the policeman, who stood 
 close by, could see him tremble, and could 
 mark the knotted veins swell out upon his 
 forehead. Were it possible for that dead boy 
 to arise from his clotted bier and give evi 
 dence against his father, it would not be more 
 conclusive to many present than the sight of 
 that bloo:l-marke.l witness. The owner of it 
 was well known ; neither the doctor's advocate, 
 nor the Rev. Andrew Campbell made any re 
 ply a dawning of the terrible truth had even 
 now come for them. 
 
 The shadows of the wintry evening had 
 already begun to make their appearance ; an 
 adjournment was asked for. The doctor, it 
 was pleaded, felt much harassed and fatigued ; 
 he would be able to give a satisfactory expla 
 nation to-morrow. The coroner was very 
 considerate he did not wish to be too rigor 
 ous with a distinguished clergyman ; but it 
 was with difficulty that the counsel for the \ 
 crown was prevailed upon to consent to re- j 
 new the doctor's bail he did not deem it 
 just to draw nice distinctions in favor of 
 clerical offenders. However, promises and 
 importunitiea prevailed, and the moderator 
 
 was again saved from commitment. In leav 
 ing the place, the accused man was without 
 hope, but he made a desperate effort to appear 
 calm ; he smiled, and leaned upon the arm of 
 his reverend friend, and he walked away as 
 complacently as a sanctified criminal on his 
 way to execution. 
 
 For obvious reasons, Alice was consigned 
 to the care of the medical attendant until the 
 next day, and a posse of constables were to 
 be left in charge of the place. Samuel Styles 
 joined Mr. Mannors, and they once more turn 
 ed their faces toward Hampstead. 
 
 The dreary December night had passed 
 away, and the c >ld, gloomy dawn was slowly 
 making its appearance. The moon was in 
 its last quarter ; it now shone through a small 
 opening in the heavy clouds, and a few stars 
 in the interminable distance stole glimpses at 
 the bleak earth. One of the homeless urchins 
 of the city, who had taken refuge during the 
 night in an outhouse or shed adjoining the 
 stable belonging to the pastor of St. Andrew's, 
 peeped out from under his bundle of rags. He 
 was trembling, there was snow upon the 
 ground, and the pangs of hunger had already 
 robbed him of any chance for the continuation 
 of his wretched rest. Would he live another 
 day, he must be active ; he must go out again 
 into the wilderness of streets, and pick up and 
 swallow such garbage as could be found. Per 
 haps it might be a lucky day, he might find a 
 shilling, or get a chance to steal one it made 
 no difference which. Pinched and straitened 
 as he was, theft to him could not be crime, 
 but suicide was ; in his great extremity, he 
 had never yet thought of that. But was it 
 not right to steal ? else how could he live ? He 
 wanted bread ; it was in his last thoughts at 
 night when he lay down in hunger bread 
 was in his dreams, and bread, or rather want 
 of it, came again with the dawn. He must 
 live ; forlorn as he was, there was hope 
 there was yet a charm in his bleak, unblessed 
 existence which he would not exchange for 
 death. The cold moonlight was streaming 
 down, and a colder blast was rushing about, 
 and now, as this poor starveling indulged in 
 felon thoughts toward large brown loaves, he 
 noticed a long shadow moving backward 
 and forward at the end of the shed furthest 
 from where he lay. He looked listlessly at it 
 for some time, but its motion in the moonlight 
 was so unusual that he watched it more 
 closely. He had often taken refuge in that 
 place before, but no such vision had ever until 
 now disturbed his waking moments or ban 
 ished his thoughts of bread. Wrapt in his 
 rags, he hobbled out, then went toward the 
 stable-door ; the end of a beam projected a 
 couple of feet from the wall ; he looked up in 
 the gloom somewhat frightened ; a rope had 
 been attached to the beam, the body of a large 
 man hung at the end of the rope, the wind 
 swung it to and fro, and the long spectral 
 shadow which followed the body was tha 
 shadow of the late Doctor Theophilus Buster.
 
 168 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 IT had been blowing a keen sou-wester all 
 day, and the Atlantic waves, as they entered 
 the passage leading to Cork harbor, rushed 
 wildly toward Fort Carlisle, and then, as if 
 repulsed, seemed to be diminished, and to 
 slacken their speed as they bounded by Spike 
 Island on their flashing and sparkling course 
 to the most spacious and beautiful haven in 
 Ireland. Some miles out at sea, a large steam 
 er from Liverpool was heading for this port ; 
 it had struggled nobly all day against adverse 
 winds and waves, and /now, as day drew to a 
 close, there was a lull, and an April sunset 
 flung a glory along the coast, and its waning 
 red rays could be seen wandering away over 
 the distant hills, and then, as if resting on 
 the very verge of earth and heaven, gradually 
 mellowed into the most delicate blush ere 
 sinking into repose. 
 
 Several passengers had assembled on the 
 deck of the vessel ; some who were in a hurry 
 to land had already been packing trunks and 
 carpet-bags ; a few mercantile men were dis 
 cussing the chances of an increase or falling 
 off in business ; politicians talked of the re 
 form bill, of Fenians, and of the gloomy pros 
 pects of the confederates in America ; while 
 others, who had been a longer or shorter 
 period away from their native land, gazed 
 thoughtfully upon the distant headlands, or 
 traced the dim outline of some mountain 
 whose summit was lost in the clouds, but by 
 whose base, perhaps, stood the sheltered val 
 ley cottage that was Home. 
 
 Apart from the other passengers, two per 
 sons stood leaning against the ship's side 
 toward the forward part of the vessel. There 
 was a pause in the conversation, and they 
 were gazing on the panorama of beautiful 
 scenery which moved slowly by. One was a 
 stout, low-sized man of middle age, he had a 
 reddish, good-humored face, and there was 
 something clerical in his appearance ; the 
 other was younger, taller, rather slight or 
 slim, and of no particular complexion. 
 
 " And that's the Green Isle, the Island of 
 Saints? Well, now, I fancy 'twould be much 
 better for all parties if it had never gained 
 that name. Saints ! my present idea of that par 
 ticular class is something like what I used to 
 have of bears or wild cats. They're mild and 
 glossy at times, well enough to look at ; but 
 'tis j ust as well to keep hands off, and not cross 
 their track or interfere with their doings ; if 
 you're risky, and keep within reach, they're 
 not mighty particular about hurtin' your 
 feelings. Well, now. that's a kind of natural 
 looking right across the way green and 
 brown fields, and them old blue hills away off ; 
 you han't much timber, rather too much of a 
 clearance, but how green! green and garden- 
 like, that's a fact. Yes, there's no mistake 
 about it, I rather fancy that that is the Emerald 
 Isle." 
 
 There was another pause for a few moments, 
 and then his companion, while looking at the 
 approaching shore, said reflectively, " Yes, sir, 
 that's ould Ireland," and he seemed to lay 
 particular stress upon the adjective. 
 
 "Well, old or new, 'tis about as good a 
 
 place for raising saints as any I know of. It 
 takes a certain kind of folks to make good 
 saints such as are ready to believe all they 
 know, and a good deal of what they don't 
 know. Anyhow, they ought to prosper over 
 there ; but some say they've been as bad for 
 the land as Canada thistles." 
 
 "Just as bad. We've had saints of all de 
 grees from Palladius or Patrick, its reputed 
 patron, down to Cullen. If religion has been 
 a blessing to others, it has failed altogether 
 with us ; we've had it in almost every shape 
 and form Pagan, and Popish, and Protestant ; 
 it has been fed with blood, and pampered with 
 gold. The crown, and the cross, and the Bible 
 have each in turn exercised an influence only 
 adverse to humanity. Then we've had a 
 dominant church and its holy apostle the 
 sword; but all to no purpose. It seems tome 
 that the Irish will never be converted by 
 Christianity, it wants son ething more pure 
 and undefiled than that to soften their hearts 
 and end their strife. In this respect, I think 
 they are but a type of our common humanity. 
 Yes, sir, the Gospel has been a woe to that 
 island ; its ancient Druidism could not have 
 created more superstition, caused more conten 
 tion, or produced greater mental degeneracy ; 
 and sure I myself have helped them down ; 
 well, nabochlish, I'll undo what I can before I 
 die." 
 
 " I guess we've all a little to undo in that 
 way ; still 'twas no fault of ours, we were 
 hitched to the thing in early years ; that's the 
 Gospel plan you know catch them while 
 they're green they can't begin with think 
 ing, reasoning men ; secure the young ones 
 and the women folks, and the rest are more 
 likely to follow. But now that we're free, let 
 us try and help those in bonds. 'Tis a tough 
 task, I admit ; but the ball is rolling, and time 
 will do the rest, that's certain. See them 
 green hill slopes ! every thing so fresh look 
 ing, an't that fine? If a man had any poetry 
 in his nature, he ought to be able to find it 
 somewhere about here. Well, how I should 
 like to have a few thousand of them Irish 
 acres, and then, if I could only get the right 
 kind of set'lers, every one of them as igno 
 rant of all religion as a rhinoceros, and have 
 common-sense laws, good schools, and freedom 
 from the extortion of priests and parsons, I 
 rather think we should make the thing work, 
 and make out to live, and prove to the world 
 what could be done on Irish soil." 
 
 " So you might, but, alas ! for poor Ireland ; 
 its soil has been enriched mainly by blood. For 
 centuries the battle of creeds has continued, un 
 til almost every foot of its surface has been 
 trodden over by armies, and factions, and reli 
 gious freebooters of all kinds. First the pagan 
 was routed, then came Palladius, or Patrick, or 
 some other pious pretender, upsetting one idol 
 and erecting another, then Christianity was 
 called civilization, and the converted poor were 
 plundered and made poorer by continued im 
 posts for the erection of cathedrals, and ab 
 beys, and monasteries, and for the support of 
 a horde of idle priests ; then came the Ref'or- 
 mation, with its alien clergy and rapacious 
 gospelers, eager for prey and for proselytes, 
 and these were soon followed by Cromwell
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 169 
 
 and confiscation. The old form of Christiani 
 ty was called idolatry, the next was avarice ; 
 both, in their results, were mercenary and in 
 human. The exactions of the one were bad 
 enough, but the extortions of the other have 
 been the main cause of rebellion and murder, 
 legal and illegal, for the last three hundred 
 years. Rome in its palmy days quietly fleeced 
 the Irish flock, but the voracious English 
 Btate church has rushed down upon them like 
 a wolf, and, behold its effects! religious des 
 potism, religious strife, and a pauper popu 
 lation." 
 
 "Just so, the boasted effects of a religion 
 of peace and good-will ; but what of the dis 
 senters you an't forgetting them?" 
 
 " No, they are our chief beggars a hungry 
 race. They are foxes that gnaw the very 
 bones ; they are the Pharisees of our day, pray 
 ing for humility, yet eager for power. But 
 no wonder we have continued discord and re 
 bellion in Ireland religion has been its 
 greatest oppressor. The state church, with 
 less than one seventh of the population, de 
 mands support from the remainder who reject 
 its teachings. That institution, established by 
 violence and fraud, still exacts for the main 
 tenance of its archbishops, bishops, priests, 
 and ecclesiastical commissioners about 700,- 
 000 annually ; besides, it has rents and rev 
 enues from 100,000 acres of land, and other 
 enormous emoluments, sufficient if expended 
 in humane and charitable purposes to give 
 vast relief to the deserving poor. What but 
 rebellion can be expected from such wholesale 
 plunder ? Irish Catholics, who are heavily 
 taxed to pay their own priesthood, naturally 
 feel indignant at such base oppression, and 
 justly offer it a continued r.-sistance. Between 
 Papists and Protestants, orange and green, 
 the spirit of the nation has been almost 
 crushed out, and kings, popes, prelates, and 
 priests may well exult ; they have brought 
 misery on a land that might have been a re 
 gion of happiness." 
 
 " This is, you know, what they call propa 
 gating the Gospel ; but, according to your idea 
 and mine too, they have had too much of a 
 good thing I guess they'd better take up 
 again with the Druids." 
 
 " They might, for the matter of that ; ay, 
 propagation of the faith and spread of the 
 (Jospel are ready expressions, but what have 
 they cost the world ? A frightful amount. 
 Every fanatic has a mission of some kind or 
 other one has a patron saint, and importunes 
 to decorate its shrine ; another starts off to 
 the ends of the earth to carry a Bible to the 
 heath-n. What with churches and priests, 
 saints and shrines, Bibles and tracts, the 
 world has been agitated and impoverished, 
 and the necessities of the poor made only a 
 secondary consideration. Instead of trying 
 to eradicate poverty, the whole machinery of 
 Christendom is kept in ceaseless operation for 
 the purpose of extracting money not of 
 course for the relief of actual distress, but un 
 der the pretense that, unless you teach reli 
 gion, or spread t.he Gospel, souls will be driven 
 to perdition ; the real woes of this life are con- ! 
 pidercd but trivial, while the imaginary ones 
 6f a future state must be averted at any cost." ' 
 
 " You mustn't forget that it requires eternal 
 ! diligence to counteract the designs of the evil 
 one ; the operations of priest-folks lie in that 
 direction. 'Tis something of a tusk to clip 
 the wings of the old dragon, and something 
 of a triumph to keep the crittur from gobbling 
 up all creation an't that so 1" 
 
 " Ay, that's a triumph, to be sure ; we hear 
 constant boasts of the triumphs of the truw 
 faith but which is true? The Papist boasts, 
 and so does the Protestant, and every sect^no 
 matter how great or insignificant, tells you of 
 Gospel triumphs ; and then what are they 
 compared with the efforts that have been 
 made, or the sums which have been lavished 
 on the insane idea of making all men have 
 but one faith, and forcing Christianity on the 
 world ? After all that has been done, what is the 
 actual progress ? Why, after nearly two thou 
 sand years of praying and preaching, begging 
 and compelling, other systems have not only 
 remained intact, but have gained adherents. 
 Mohammedanism has superseded i Christianity 
 in the East ; Judaism still scorns its preteu 
 sions, paganism is proud in a vast contrcl 
 while science, and secularism, and spiritual 
 ism are winning and drawing thinking men 
 away from the worship of the cross and from 
 the idolatry of the Bible The magnificent ef 
 forts of Exeter Hall are unavailing ; the tor 
 rent of unbelief rushes on. During the last 
 sixty years, the Bible Society of Britain alone, 
 has printed and distributed over fifty-three mil 
 lions of copies of the Christian Bible, and yet it 
 has been calculated that even at this rate it 
 would take 1140 more years, and one hundred 
 and twenty millions more of money, to give a 
 copy of this so-called free Gospel to every hu 
 man being ! and though millions have been 
 already spent to circulate the Scriptures, not 
 one person in twenty has yet been favored 
 with the perusal of this strange message 
 from God to man. If the Gospel, as has been 
 alleged, was once preached to every creature, 
 the inhabitants of the earth must have been 
 very few, or else they must have quickly re 
 jected its teachings ; if it was indispensable 
 for man's salvation, what indifference and 
 cruelty to let its circulation depend upon the 
 uncertain efforts of a few believers, while vast 
 multitudes are in the mean time left to perish, 
 through lack of knowledge what a sad re 
 flection upon the benevolence of a supreme 
 Being ! Christians, however, continue to boast 
 of the triumphs of grace meagre triumphs 
 according to the means used. Give me money 
 and men, give me but one fiftieth part of 
 what is actually wasted in efforts to Christian 
 ize, and I will Mormonize Manchester, Brah- 
 minize Bristol, and the praises of Mohammed 
 and the Koran shall be sung in the streets of 
 London. Give me ample means and resolute 
 men, and I can establish any system ! Christi 
 anity has already had full sway for centuries. 
 Kings have been its nursing fathers, it has 
 had almost unprecedented popularity, and has 
 become imperial in wealth, power, and in 
 tolerance ; yet even now, refulgent as it may 
 seem, let candid men but fairly investigate ita 
 claims, and they will as surely reject its an- 
 thority. 
 " The best years of my life have been spen*
 
 170 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 in an endeavor to make others believe what 
 I could not understand myself. What years 
 of trial many of these have been to me ! and 
 what mental torture I have suffered contend 
 ing with theological absurdities ! Investiga 
 tion has, however, satisfied me, as it has a host 
 of others ; and as soon as the fallacious pre 
 tensions of the Christian creed are more fully 
 examined and exposed, they will be rejected, 
 and will follow the course of other popular 
 delusions which have had their day." 
 
 " That will be the case. I was once as great 
 a stickler for them venerable chapters of in 
 spiration as any man living ; the Bible I im 
 agined was law, physic, and divinity, and 
 every thing else ; what I couldn't under 
 stand at one time, I thought I'd be able to 
 make out at another. I used to read and read, 
 and felt mighty cheap at times when I couldn't 
 riddle out the meaning ; still I b'lieved, and 
 still I doubted ; then, after a time, I began to 
 think that something wasn't all right 'twas 
 I, of course, was rather slack and soon as 
 a doubt came, so soon was I bound to find out 
 the exact truth. Guess I had a lively time of 
 it for a while ; but at last truth came, and 
 truth in the end was too much for the Bible. 
 I've been among Christian men and women 
 since I was so high, through York State, 
 and Pennsylvania, and New-Jersey, and many 
 other places among Episcopalians, Metho 
 dists, Presbyterians, Baptists, and twenty other 
 different kinds ; good Lord 1 they're all alike, 
 the people never think ; religious folks, in one 
 way, are all of a stripe they just, nine out 
 of ten of 'em b'leeve what they're told, pay 
 little or much right down, and ask no ques 
 tions. And then there's the preachers or 
 ministers, or whatever you like to call them, 
 pretty well stuck up, most of .them living at 
 their ease despots and exclusives in a small 
 way I won't say all of them, but pretty 
 much all ; some of them are sincere enough, 
 but others are chuck full of the old Adam ; 
 they hitch right on and take to sinning quite 
 natural-like ; they an't often stuck when they 
 want to start, they pitch right in, and then 
 when they fall from grace, they talk about 
 remorse and make out to feel rather cheap ; 
 but when there's a general row, and when it 
 gets into the papers, or if the business is 
 pretty scaly, they sometimes quietly slip 
 cable, make tracks, or go off, just like our 
 friend the moderator." 
 
 rt No doubt Harry was surprised when he 
 heard of that he must have seen it in the pa 
 pers. Ah! sure I know something of the cler 
 gy, but let them go for the present. Here we 
 are in sweet old Cove once more; but sure 
 now 'tis Queenstown still the place is all the 
 . same they can't change that. See, there's 
 the guard-ship, and that one over the way is 
 the hulk or prison-ship. I'll warrant they've 
 got more than one Irish rebel on board for ex 
 portation well, God help the poor fellows ! 
 and there's vessels, big and little, bound lor the 
 four quarters of the woi Id. Isn't this a har 
 bor fit for paradise? 'tis, faith, if there is 
 such a place, and I hope there is. Look at 
 that old church away up on the hill, and 
 streets and houses, like huge steps of stairs, 
 rising up from the water. You're sure to find 
 
 churches wherever you go ; like the cler 
 gy, they are fond of elevated positions. 
 "L'is no great matter in Ireland whether 
 there's a congregation or not where there's 
 a church, there must be a salary. But 
 what have I got to do with churches now ? 
 I'm no longer a priest, but a poor pariah ; I 
 will no more urge the erection of temples, 
 but do what I can to undermine the stately 
 fabric of superstition. Ay, there's the old 
 sod, the fine green fields again ; I some way 
 think it does one good to step on native soil 
 Psha ! how hard 'tis to get r d of old notions. 
 What is country or creed to me now ? just 
 old notions, nothing more. A subdivided 
 world is hostile to humanity. Henceforth, I 
 shall humbly tread in the footsteps of that 
 true friend of man, who said, ' The world 
 is my country, to do good my religion.' " 
 
 After Mr. Capel left England, his loss was 
 not only felt by the family at Hampstead, but 
 also in a particular manner by the Eev. Mr. 
 McGlinn. That tottering pillar of the Roman 
 Church found himself almost alone. Mr. 
 Capel was a companion to whom he could 
 freely unburden his mind, and from whom, 
 he well knew, he would receive sympathy. 
 An apparent conformity to the doctrines and 
 ceremonies of his church had already become 
 I insupportable, and a thorough invostio-ation 
 i into the claims of the Bible had satisfied him 
 that Christianity was based upon a false foun 
 dation. He never studied the problem which 
 no doubt deters many others how am I to 
 live if I resign my charge ? but, true to his own 
 honest nature, he decided to leave the church 
 and renounce the faith, to take his chance 
 among thinking men, and to warn others 
 against the pretensions of creed and authority 
 of inspiration. Yet, though he loved truth, he 
 dreaded the obloquy which would follow his 
 desertion of the faith. Surrounded as he was 
 by thorough adherents of the church, he had 
 not one in whom to confide ; and when he men 
 tioned a doubt, or threw out a hint respecting 
 his unbelief, he was only laughed at by bro 
 ther priests, who could not admit that he was 
 serious. Wasn't he an eccentric sure he 
 was controversial Tom, and drunk or sober he 
 had a leaning for argument ; when the Pro 
 testant was routed, he would attack the Papist 
 any thing for argument. So the priests of 
 Moorfields still thought ; but Father Tom was 
 in some respects a very changed man he had 
 become abstemious, and instead of festive de 
 bates or post prandial polemics, he ventured 
 on skepticism ; but were his clerical friends 
 even satisfied of his total unbelief, they would 
 have had more consideration for him than if he 
 had merely changed his faith. To leave the 
 mother church for " Luther's bantling of apos 
 tasy " would, in their opinion, be an ecclesi 
 astical crime, not to be forgiven in this world 
 or the next. Anyway, Mr. McGlinn was de 
 termined to be free ; and, as he had business in 
 Ireland about that time, he notified the bishop, 
 and received the usual permission, lie de 
 sired to depart in peace, and let the anathema 
 of excommunication afterward follow. 
 
 Having therefore made up his mind to 
 leave London, he wrote to Mr. Capel, from 
 whom he had lately received a letter ; theii
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 171 
 
 positions were similar. He had not yet de 
 cided, as to his future course ; he was compara 
 tively poor, so was Mr. Cape! ; not only would 
 people of his late creed look coldly on him, 
 but Christians as a body would mark their dis 
 trust, and perhaps attribute any thing but 
 the purest motives for his rejection of 
 the faith. He would now be obliged to stem 
 the current against which he had faced ; this 
 he was willing to do ; and as something must 
 be done to earn a livelihood, he wrote to consult 
 his Mend, who himself was rather irresolute ; 
 it might be that they could unite in opening 
 a school or seminary, or in establishing 
 an institution of the kind ; and if the 
 spirit of intolerance interfered with their suc 
 cess in their native land, why, the world was 
 wide, and they could cross the sea. This was 
 the purport of the letter which he had dis 
 patched to Mr. Capel ; he had about a week yet 
 to remain before he could complete his ar 
 rangements, and in the mean time he thought 
 it his duty to pay perhaps a last visit to his 
 friend Mr. Mannors, whom he had not seen 
 but once since the departure of Mr. Capel. 
 
 No one could have received a greater wel 
 come at Heath Cottage. Mr. Mannors, cheer 
 ful as ever, met him at the garden-gate, and 
 after a hearty shake of the hand, gave him a 
 good-natured' reproof for what he called his 
 desertion. What a pleasant home ! even af 
 ter the dreary visits of sorrow, the sunlight 
 streamed down and seemed to renew happi 
 ness within the dwelling. Still there was 
 a want Harry was away ; Mr. McGlinn had 
 never been there before but in his company, 
 and, though it was springtime again, he 
 thought of the gloomy November day when 
 they both left the place together. And then ' 
 how changed Miss Mannors looked ; there was , 
 a sadness in her appearance, yet how warmly 
 she pressed his hand, and how earnestly she 
 asked him if he had often heard from Ireland, 
 and then, after a little hesitation, how she 
 had even ventured to mention Mr. Capel's 
 name. 
 
 " Oh ! he has forgotten us," said Mr. Man 
 nors," as you almost did yourself. What do 
 you think, only one solitary letter from him 
 since he left us indeed, that was scarcely a 
 letter, a few expressions of gratitude for all I 
 had done for him, but at the same time posi 
 tively declining the only little favor I ever 
 tried to bestow. Indeed, it could scarcely be 
 called a favor ; when he was going away, I 
 inclosed a check for a hundred pounds mere 
 ly as a loan if he liked. I did not tell him 
 at the time what it was ; I told him not to 
 open the letter until he got to Ireland, but 
 in less than a week after he left, back came 
 my check, and we have never heard from 
 him since. Now, Father McGlinn, isn't that 
 ungrateful ?" 
 
 " Well, upon my sowl, I rather like it. But 
 begging your pardon, Mr. Mannors, don't fa- 
 thcr me any more I'm done with all that. 
 When you saw me last in town, you might have 
 guessed at what was going to happen you 
 remember what I told you. Well, sir, at 
 this blessed moment I'm an independent 
 heathen at your service ; faith, in one sense 
 not very independent either, but any way 
 free from all ecclesiastical bonds, and quite 
 
 indifferent to interdicts. Well, even that's 
 something to boast of, after nearly fifty 
 years of servility to an idea. Yes, I admit 
 it looks ungrateful on Harry's part, but, Lord 
 bless you 1 you don't know him. Poor fellow ! 
 the day he left here with me was, I'm sure, 
 the most miserable one of his existence ; I 
 saw it, he could scarcely speak, and when 
 the big tears stood in his eyes as we vere 
 parting, he spoke of you as having been a 
 I most generous benefactor, and of you, Miss 
 | Mannors, as being an angel of light faith, he 
 did. Ungrateful ! not a bit of it. He may 
 be troubled perhaps with a little Irish pride, 
 j or he may have too much spirit, but nothing 
 like ingratitude. If you were to see his let 
 ters indeed, I once told him he should direct 
 them to you instead of^to me nearly all 
 about Hampstead and Heath Cottage, and 
 Mr. Mannors, and his angel-daughter." 
 
 " Well, well, he's a strange fellow ; I hope 
 we haven't got rid of him altogether. Yea, 
 Mr. McGlinn, I remember our last conversa- 
 sion in the city, and I am not surprised at 
 the result I sincerely congratulate you upon 
 your mental freedom ; and now I trust you 
 are going to remain with us a few days, and 
 not leave us in a hurry, as your friend Capel 
 did." 
 
 "Remain! there's not much for me now 
 but leave-taking ; sure, I daren't stay here, 
 besides, haven't I Harry's last letter hurrying 
 me away ? Somehow, I don't think he's at all 
 happy in Ireland ; he wants to try the other 
 end of the world, and wishes to consult me 
 about going to Australia." 
 
 Miss Mannors had to blush once or twice 
 during the conversation ; now, from some sud 
 den cause, she grew pale and faint, and a 
 dimness affected her sight. 
 
 "Australia ! Why, who ever heard the like of 
 that ? Just think, Pop, of the man going away, 
 away to Australia, like a romantic missionary, 
 perhaps to be devoured by Christianized 
 savages ! How long has he had that notion ?" 
 
 " 'Pon my word, I can't exactly say not 
 long, anyway. You see he hasn't been very 
 successful many of his old religious friends 
 gave him the cold shoulder. He's very sensi 
 tive, and, to my surprise, has lately be 
 come rather anxious for wealth. I know that 
 since he left here, Hampstead has been often 
 in his dreams ; and now, as if there was some 
 connection therewith, he dreams of gold, lie 
 would like to grow suddenly rich yet a thou 
 sand pounds will do him ; and as there is no 
 possible chance of finding or making such a 
 sum here, he is willing to seek it in far-off 
 Australia." 
 
 "Ah ! what a foolish dreamer, when he might 
 be, perhaps, much more successful nearer 
 home. How does he know but some well-to- 
 do relative would turn up, and save him such 
 a long voyage? Well, we must see to this ; T 
 do not want to have members of my church 
 scattered about ; we, too, have a labor of love 
 to perform, we must act as missionaries in a 
 noble cause, but let us first attend to the en 
 slaved and unconverted in Britain here is the 
 stronghold of the enemy. And now, Mr. Mc 
 Glinn, while you and I try to devise some 
 plan to keep our increasing flock together, 
 perhaps you, Miss Pop, might consult your
 
 172 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 legal adviser, should he favor us with another 
 visit. Mr. Bross might be able to suggest 
 how we can lawfully prevent Mr. Capel from 
 wandering away to distant lands." 
 
 Depressed as Mr. McGliim must have been 
 at the time he called to pay this last visit, 
 the short stay he made at Hampstead served 
 greatly to cheer his spirits, and to give him 
 confidence in the future. His benevolent host 
 was ever hopeful, and ever anxious to forward 
 the interests of the deserving. It was most 
 gratifying to learn that the health of Mrs. 
 Mannors was very much improved, and that 
 there was every probability of her complete 
 and speedy restoration ; during the last month, 
 there had been a marked improvement. He 
 Lad also the pleasure of meeting his American 
 friend, Mr. Samuel Styles, the late keeper at 
 the Home. Doctor Buster's career was freely 
 discussed ; his death had caused a great sensa 
 tion in the religious world, and altnost to the 
 last, a certain pious journal in the Presbyterian 
 interest persisted in asserting that the un 
 timely end of the estimable and talented 
 moderator was the sad result of insanity, in 
 duced by the systematic persecution of certain 
 noted infidels, aided, it was to be deplored, by a 
 few jealous sectarians who claimed to be 
 ministers and servants of the living God. The 
 Kev. Andrew Campbell also favored such re- 
 I>ort8 ; but his opinion was somewhat altered 
 when he made the very unpleasant discovery 
 that he was held responsible to the city bank 
 for a thousand pounds, drawn by the late Doctor 
 Buster a day or two before his death. Other 
 revelations also tended to place the defunct 
 moderator in no very enviable light, and for 
 some time afterward when church-members, 
 and brethren, and sisters, still strong in the 
 Lord, ventured to allude to their once re 
 nowned preacher their denominational idol 
 they were wont to exclaim, "Alas ! alas I how 
 are the mighty fallen." 
 
 Before the ex-priest took his departure from 
 Hampstead, it was arranged that Mr. Styles, 
 who was desirous of visiting Ireland, should 
 accompany him ; this was most agreeable. 
 And as Mr. Mannors was recommended to 
 give his wife the benefit of change of air 
 and change of scene, being anxious to see 
 Mr. Capel again, he thought a trip to Ireland 
 would be just the thing. To the delight of 
 Mr. McGlinn, he therefore promised that he 
 and his wife and daughter would meet them 
 in Cork on the first of May. The afflicted 
 widow of the late Doctor Buster and her only 
 child had been kindly cared for at Heath Cot 
 tage ; about two weeks previously, they had 
 been taken by friends to Bristol. 
 
 The two travelers who had held a conversa 
 tion on the deck of the steamer have no 
 doubt been recognized as Father Tom and 
 his American friend, Styles ; they landed in 
 Queenstown, and, having remained a day in 
 that favorite resort, started again on a fine 
 spring morning. As they passed up the river, 
 the scenery along the banks of the " pleasant 
 Waters " seemed enchanting ; in an hour or 
 two they heard the melody of the Shandon 
 bells, and found one true friend to give them 
 a cordial greeting ^u their arrival in the 
 " Beautiful City ' 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 MRS. MANNORS was at Hampstead again, 
 mentally restored, but still rather weak and 
 worn after months of dreary confinement, 
 and after the peculiar treatment to which she 
 had been subjected in that other Home, out 
 of which comparatively few indeed had ever 
 escaped. Oh ! how grateful she felt for the 
 blessing of reason. She had but a dim 
 recollection of her long restraint, yet she 
 guessed at the sad truth ; painful to her memo 
 ry, it recurred like a confused, dismal dream. 
 Yes, she was home and restored, and at times 
 she almost wept at what seemed to be to her a 
 fresh evidence of mercy. Another glorious 
 morning had again appeared, she could look up 
 to the mild heavens and see the early lark soar 
 ing in the blue sky. Springtime had again 
 returned with its budding beauty ; she could 
 see the garden-walks fringed once more with 
 the variegated, ornamental work of nature, and 
 she could even look calmly upon the distant 
 glittering cross of St. Paul's, and watch the 
 sunlight flinging beams over the Surrey hills ; 
 yet nothing visionary came to disturb her 
 imagination it was happiness. She was 
 again in her own pleasant cottage ; there were 
 those around her who showed the most affec 
 tionate care, and nothing was left undone to 
 win her back to cheerfulness : even Flounce 
 seemed doubly attached ; he followed her 
 about, and in short, quick barks tried to make 
 her understand his delight. She was still 
 religious, but that feeling came back in a 
 subdued form, more under the control of her 
 reason. She had an increased regard for her 
 husband, but as yet none of her old anxiety 
 concerning his conversion. At first she won 
 dered what had become of Mr. Capel ; it 
 peemed strange that he should not be there 
 to greet her, and she fancied that he was still 
 away on the circuit calling sinners to repent 
 ance ; and then often as she thought of her 
 dear, lost boy her great bereavement her 
 true maternal nature paid its repeated tribute 
 to his memory. As for poor Hannah, she was 
 delighted ; what pleasure she anticipated in 
 again being privileged to give a relation of 
 her spiritual trials and conflicts to her best 
 friend, and though particularly warned to say 
 little or nothing to her mistress on the sub 
 ject of religion, she could scarcely withhold 
 pious ejaculations, and, as soon as she was 
 alone, she would commence with renewed 
 vigor to praise the Lord and take a look at 
 John Bunyan. 
 
 It was now the end of April ; in a few days 
 they would start for Ireland. Mr. Mannors 
 had made every necessary arrangement, and 
 he anticipated good results from the excur 
 sion. His wife would, no doubt, be greatly 
 benefited, and for certain reasons he was 
 particularly desirous of meeting Mr. Capel ; 
 indeed, what he had heard from Mr. McGlinn 
 only made him more anxious in this particular, 
 and it did not lessen him in his estimation ; 
 he was rather more strongly impressed with 
 the idea that his daughter's hppiness depend, 
 ed a good deal upon the course which that gen. 
 erous young man might determine to pursue 
 He never mentioned this matter to Mrs. Man
 
 -EXETER HALL. 
 
 178 
 
 nt>rs ; lie felt somewhat reluctant, lie wished 
 to wait until it was perhaps more matured. 
 He well knew that she had been very partial 
 toward the young preacher, and though she 
 had heard of his resignation and expulsion, 
 still her discrimination led her to believe him in 
 natural disposition to be one of the excellent of 
 the earth. She, of course, regretted his apos 
 tasy ; however, she could make an allowance 
 for his defection, for she was inclined to think 
 that Mr. Baker had been too peremptory and 
 severe ; but, notwithstanding what had passed, 
 she entertained hopes that at some future day 
 Mr. Capel would return to the church like a 
 repentant prodigal. 
 
 Time m-w by ; they were to leave home next 
 day. Hannah, and another pious woman, and 
 Robert were to remain in charge of the house ; 
 the family might be a week or two away. One 
 who was to be left thought such a chance a 
 godsend, and she had resolved to make the 
 most of it. Hannah privately determined that 
 when she had the place to herself she would 
 disregard all protestations from Robert or any 
 one else, and tumble out, scrub, and overhaul 
 every thing she could lay hands on ; she an 
 ticipated a term of delightful confusion, and, 
 eager for her task, she was impatient to have 
 full control of the premises. 
 
 Trunks and boxes had at last been packed, 
 and every one had retired for the night ; re 
 pose came to all others, but Mary Manners 
 could not sleep. It was an hour of stillness ; 
 she sat at her window and looked out pensive- [ 
 ly upon the calm, moonlit scenery. The tall 
 trees were motionless, and their young leaves i 
 scarcely stirred in the soft whispers of the 
 night air. What were her thoughts? Per 
 haps in less than another week she would 
 know her fate she would learn that which 
 might make her either happy or wretched for 
 ever. She loved was it a flower that was 
 doomed to wither prematurely Y She hid the 
 flame from all, and now it was consuming her 
 own bosom. Alone she could think of Henry 
 Capel, and she was thinking of him now. 
 What if he had truly determined to leave all 
 and go to a distant land ? She well knew that 
 if one word from her could bid him stay : she 
 could not speak it she could not even by one 
 word avert her doom. Yet she had hopes ; she 
 had been greatly encouraged by what Mr. Mc 
 Glinn had said about his friend. Did he not 
 write often about Hampstead, and allude to 
 her as being an angel, and then was he not 
 anxious to get rich ? What could that be for? 
 Bhe had often and often heard him say that 
 lie cared not for wealth, that he could be sat 
 isfied with n modest portion, with an humble 
 home and peace of mind. Could it be possi 
 ble that he wished to get rich for her sake? 
 Would that that were his desire 1 She would 
 then tell him, yes, tell him how but, alas! 
 her lips would be sealed ; she could ne\ er tell 
 him how dear lie would be to her, even were 
 he in the most abject poverty. No ; it might 
 be that at theii next interv ew, should he tell 
 her of his intended voyage, she would seem 
 only a little surprised, might appear quite in 
 different, and then that wretched simulation 
 might drive him away forever. Poor Mary ! 
 fihe soon forgot her troubles in quiet slumbers, 
 
 and bright dreams again brought visions of 
 happiness. 
 
 They had been nearly a week in Cork. 
 What a meeting of true friends ! It was a 
 week of happiness to Mr. Mannors, a week 
 of great restoration to his wife, and a period 
 of almost perfect bliss to two young persons 
 who spent much time together. Mr. McGlinn 
 began to see matters in a different light ; the 
 proposals he had made to his friend Harry 
 concerning a seminary were likely to be ren 
 dered futile by the proposal which he fancied 
 that that young gentleman would very prob 
 ably soon make himself to another person. 
 He began to suspect something of this kind, 
 and at the first opportunity he gave a sly hint 
 to Mr. Capel, which made Mm blush like a 
 girl. Samuel Styles evidently understood 
 what was going on, and rather increased the 
 young man's diffidence by telling him with 
 the most serious face to go ahead, at the same 
 time giving a side nod toward Miss Mannors ; 
 and it was plainly seen that Mr. Mannors favor 
 ed the intercourse which he saw was so satis 
 factory to all, and which for a long time it had 
 been his own desire to establish. 
 
 The strangers were delighted with the city 
 and its attractive environs ; they had been 
 from Black Rock to Ballincollig at Glanmire 
 and at Sundays- Well, and at other places of 
 resort ; everywhere the scenery was most 
 charming. Mr. Mannors proposed to visit an 
 old friend in Mallow, but as Mrs. Mannors 
 wished to see the Lakes of Killarney, it was 
 agreed that Samuel Styles should accompany 
 Mr. Mannors, while Mr. Capel, much to his 
 satisfaction, was to escort the ladies. Mr. 
 McGlinn had business to detain him in the 
 city, and he would await their return. 
 
 in a few days they all met again. Mrs. 
 Mannors could scarcely speak of any thing 
 else until she had told the same story over 
 and over about the beauty of the far-famed 
 lakes and ot the exquisite scenery of the neigh 
 borhood. Miss Mary had nearly filled her 
 portfolio with sketches; her devoted chaperon 
 liad pointed out the most attractive landscapes, 
 and she was entirely guided by him in the 
 selection of views ; as it was, she somehow 
 found singular difficulty in transferring them 
 to paper ; but they would answer well enough 
 to remind her in after-years of some of the hap 
 piest days of her life. During their stay, they 
 had sailed upon the crystal waters fr< >m one 
 fairy-like spot to another, they had had little 
 private picnics on romantic islands, and had 
 visited retreats sacred to lovers' vows. 
 Whether Henry Cape] ever had an opportunity 
 of taking any advantage which such retreats 
 might have afforded and of finding sufficient 
 courage to make an avowal on his own account 
 has not been made known ; as far as this was 
 concerned, he was rather reticent ; but if words 
 did not reveal the secret, there was a tell-tale 
 expression in his face which might fully sat 
 isfy even such as were not very close observers 
 that he had most probably asked some partic 
 ular person a very particular favor, and that it 
 had been granted. Any way, after he had re 
 turned, nothing more was heard about crossing 
 the stormy sea or of going to Australia ; instead 
 of that, his excursive notions wandered no
 
 174 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 further than "Blarney " to that place he pro 
 posed a visit. Father Tom recommended him 
 to be sure and kiss the famous stone, for the 
 sake of good luck ; after that he would acquire 
 a peculiar kind of assurance, and might ven 
 ture such an attempt upon a softer and more 
 impressive substance. 
 
 They were at Hampstead once more. During 
 their absence Hannah had worked wonders 
 every thing around the place had a shiny, 
 smiling appearance ; every piece of furniture 
 looked brisk and polished, just as if it were in 
 clined to laugh ; the garden appeared to yield 
 its greatest profusion of flowers, the birds 
 to sing sweeter and louder. The fountain 
 gashed up higher, sparkling in the clear air 
 like liquid light, and the tall trees, crowned 
 with azure, seemed to whisper joyful news to 
 each other murmuring softly, lest the listen 
 ing black-feathered rooks in their branches 
 should overhear the tidings. Nature seemed 
 to have come out in holiday garb ; the earth 
 and the heavens were alike serene and beau 
 tiful.. 
 
 . Hannah had received a hint that there 
 might probably be a great day at the cottage, 
 and she did her best to meet the occasion. 
 Truly she had succeeded so well that Mr. 
 Manners himself was surprised at the change ; 
 upon his arrival he gave her a gold coin, 
 which, with a nice present from her mistress, 
 greatly pleased the industrious maid. 
 
 Although Henry Capel had given up the 
 notion of crossing the wide sea, yet he readily 
 crossed St. George's Channel to link his fate j 
 with one whom to gain he would have will 
 ingly braved the dangers of a thousand 
 oceans, in order to try and procure that 
 thousand pounds, the possession of which 
 might embolden him to plead for the hand 
 that was soon to be his. Mr. Manners had 
 long discovered his true worth, and felt as 
 sured that one so noble in mind, so honorable 
 in conduct, and so unselfish as he had already 
 proved, would be more likely to make his 
 daughter happy than a wealthy suitor with 
 out such sterling principles ; and soon as he 
 was convinced that Mary Manners had more 
 than an ordinary regard for Henry Capel, he 
 made a legal settlement in her favor, secur 
 ing to her sufficient property to place her in 
 easy circumstances. He had lost his only son, 
 and to a certain extent no one could so well 
 fill his place as the person on whom his 
 daughter had fixed her affections. 
 
 The day had been named when the wedding 
 was to take place. Father Tom his friend 
 Harry would call him nothing else had been 
 prevailed upon to return with the little party ; 
 Mr. Mannors would hear of no excuse. Samuel 
 Styles would be there, and a select few every 
 thing was settled. A beautiful day daAvned ; 
 the sunbeams rushed down like invited guests, 
 they danced in the garden, flung the fragrance , 
 from the flowers, and then lingered around 
 ihe doorway, looked in at the windows, nnd 
 peeped into every place where a shadow might 
 hide, as if to chase it away ; and then they 
 seemed mingling and gliding through the 
 pure air as if weaving a garland of light for 
 the brow of the bride. 
 
 The benevolent Martin Mannors never 
 
 looked more happy; he was radiant witb 
 smiles, and his wife was serene and cheerful. 
 Father Tom felt an inspiration of wit, and 
 Mr. Samuel Styles threatened matrimony 
 on his return to America. The young people 
 were married, there was a sumptuous repast, 
 others were not forgotten, every poor family 
 in the neighborhood bad a better dinner than 
 usual on that day, and many of the homeless 
 ones were seated in the garden and fed bounti 
 fully ; and when Henry Capel and his brie. e 
 entered the carriage to start upon a wedding 
 tour, a number of persons young, old, healthy 
 and decrepit who had assembled on the road 
 side, regarded the married pair with the great 
 est interest, and the murmured wishes for 
 their happiness and long life could be heard 
 around ; and when at last the vehicle moved 
 off there was an impulsive cheer, and Father 
 Tom, who stood at the gate, gave a lusty shout, 
 and then, with considerable force, flung an 
 old shoe after the open carriage, which most 
 fortunately just escaped the bridegroom's 
 head. 
 
 The May meetings at Exeter Hall had again 
 taken place. The great Bible Society had 
 once more made its annual effort. The seme 
 distinguished chairman had presided, many 
 of the lordly and reverend speakers had 
 made their fresh appeals, and almost a repe 
 tition of the same glowing speeches had been 
 delivered exalting the Great Book, and show 
 ing what had been done for the benighted 
 during the past year. The widow's mite, the 
 pence of the poor, and the gold of the weal 
 thy had been poured into the treasury of tho 
 Lord, even in excess of previous years, but 
 still the receipts were wretchedly deficient. 
 Sacerdotal ingenuity was again set to its task, 
 and the omnipotence of words was required 
 to overwhelm reason and conquer hearts. 
 Studied metaphors, perfected flashes of ora 
 tory, and skillfully prepared Culminations 
 matured masterpieces of burning eloquence, 
 as if fresh creations of a semi-inspired imagi 
 nation had been flung like thunder-bolta 
 among the mass of awe-striick hearers, and 
 had again aroused the echoes of the great 
 Hall, and, with culminating grandeur, evoked 
 the feelings of an almost breathless assembly. 
 The effect was produced ; help, more help, was 
 required in the cause of the Lord against the 
 mighty, and liberal aid had again been se 
 cured to fortify priestcraft and intolerance. 
 
 Since the last anniversary, thousands, it was 
 said, had perished for lack of knowledge, at d 
 alas ! thousands who knew not the Lord were 
 now on the road to eternal ruin. The mourn 
 ful cry, Save us, save us ! came from afar ; it 
 was a shriek of woe, an alarm that should 
 awake to powerful action entire Christendom. 
 Infidelity was still defiantly holding up its ac 
 cursed head ; let it not defile the land. Bri 
 tish Christians were adjured to unite in a 
 greater effort for its overthrow, and they were 
 implored to occupy and retain their present 
 advanced and distinguished position in the 
 cause of the glorious Gospel. 
 
 Such were the delusive repetitions of Exe 
 ter Hall. Princely prelates and richly en 
 dowed priests in eloquent flights entreating 
 the orthodox on behalf of those in foreig*
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 175 
 
 lands assumed to be perishing for lack of 
 knowledge, while the increased number of 
 those in their very midst, who were known to 
 be actually perishing for lack of food, claimed 
 but a secondary consideration, and were too 
 often left to depend upon the humane impulses 
 of the " ungodly," or upon the charitable 
 efforts of unbelievers. 
 
 In conversation with his friends on this sub 
 ject, Mr. Manners said : 
 
 " It has been the cause of great surprise to 
 many why there should be so much poverty 
 even in the very midst of abundance, and 
 comparatively few have ventured to ask why 
 there should be any at all. It is taken for 
 granted that indigence is the necessary condi 
 tion of some, and divines have ever encour 
 aged the notion that poverty is often a bless 
 ing in disguise ; for they assert that the poor 
 belong to the Lord ' Hath not God chosen 
 the poor of this world ?' Yet, while lauding 
 destitution for beggary favors humility and 
 dependence the church, as a general rule, has 
 shown its worldly wisdom by the most con 
 temptible pandering to wealth and power. 
 
 " The rapid increase of pauperism has as 
 tounded the benevolent. The millions of vic 
 tims to starvation in Ireland, in India, 
 throughout Europe, and almost in every part 
 of the earth where Christianity and its fos 
 tered civilization have control, have startled 
 many to serious thought, but have scarcely 
 affected the equanimity of rulers or priests. 
 In times of great privation, instead of imme 
 diate retrenchment, armies are increased as if 
 to avert a threatened danger, and while fam 
 ine gloats over its thousands, priests ply their 
 trade and collect for missions ; and these 
 funds, accumulated for the spread of the Gos 
 pel, must not be diverted from their legiti 
 mate course, even to allay the pestilence of 
 want. Priestly policy, to be sure, assumes to 
 lead in efforts at benevolence, and as ostenta 
 tious charity has subserved the interests of 
 religion, institutions were founded in which 
 the poor might find temporary refuge, but 
 such wretched relief only engendered a de 
 pendency upon the priesthood, and gained a 
 spurious reputation for a class who gave back 
 but a tenth of what they had extorted in the 
 name of the Lord. * 
 
 " The great question occurs, Why does so 
 much destitution exist ? The prominent cause 
 arises from the pauperizing tendency of re 
 ligion ; the insatiable greed of "priests has 
 been too well established. A great portion 
 of the wealth of England is absorbed by them, 
 and what do they give in return ? They have 
 impoverished Ireland as well as Italy, and the 
 present condition of Austria, Russia, France, 
 Spain, and other countries of Europe fully ! 
 attests that where a nation has to support 
 such vast numbers of non-producers called 
 ecclesiastics, priests, or preachers, dronos claim 
 ing exemption from labor, and in most cases 
 from taxation, an additional burden must of 
 necessity be placed upon the shoulders of the 
 people. It may be fairly asserted that 
 throughout Europe, for every priest you will 
 find ten soldiers, and for every soldier ten ac- 
 
 * See Note K. 
 
 tual paupers. Religion must have prioste, 
 nationality soldiers, and poverty is the com 
 mon offspring of both. Religion and nation 
 ality, the theme of moralists, poets, and trans- 
 cendentalists, have been in my opinion the 
 most fertile sources of misery to mankind."* 
 
 " Well, I rather guess they have," said 
 Samuel Styles. " 1 imagine I know a little of 
 what religion has done to delay progress and 
 turn things in general upside down. Nation 
 ality has parceled out the whole earth into 
 little garden-patches, like a great field divided 
 and fenced off into acres. The man squatted 
 in the north corner fancies that the man in 
 the south is a kind of inferior crittur ; and if 
 they make out to quarrel about nothing- 
 say "on a point of honor why then they go at 
 it and rob and plunder each other all they 
 can and that's so much to the account of na 
 tional glory ! If the man in the east boasts 
 that the sun rises for his sole advantage, the 
 man in the west feels called upon to resent 
 the insult and cut a foreign throat if he can. 
 That's called patriotism. That's just how 
 it works. What bosh ! A streak of mean self 
 ishness exalted to a virtue. Yes, sir, religion 
 and nationality have worked harmoniously to 
 gether for the benefit of kings and priests, 
 but have just left the world where it is." 
 
 " Those who have thought most on the sub 
 ject," said Mr. Manners, " admit that subdi 
 visions, nationalities, and creeds are favorable 
 to despotism the world united would be 
 free. Continue the distinction of races, tribes, 
 clans, and caste, and you keep mankind forever 
 in bonds, and you as surely perpetuate the jeal 
 ousy, hatred, and strife which have arisen from 
 such conditions. Another evil is the unfair 
 distribution of land. If the state claims to 
 own the land, and apportions it only to a few, 
 those who own no share of the soil, and who 
 can not therefore produce food, should not be 
 allowed to suffer in consequence. The un 
 equal distribution of land throughout Britain 
 is infamous. Every man who has a desire to 
 cultivate a portion of the soil should have an 
 allotment of the same for that purpose. Talk 
 of vested rights rights secured to one at the 
 expense of deprivation and destitution to hun 
 dreds ! The people should own the soil in as 
 fair and reasonable proportions as possible. 
 But how is it here ? A vile monopoly. There 
 are in the. United Kingdom seventy-one mil 
 lions of acres, there are about thirty millions of 
 inhabitants, and yet the entire land is in the 
 hands of less than thirty thousand landlords, 
 a vast quantity of the same being vested in 
 the State Church. One hundred and fifty 
 men actually own the half of England, and 
 twelve men own the half of Scotland ! Of 
 the whole quantity, less than nineteen mil 
 lions of acres are under tillage and over 
 thirty-five millions of acres entirely unculti 
 vated. Were no person permitted to own 
 say over a thousand acres which would be 
 quite sufficient for all reasonable purposes 
 what a vast improvement it would be to the 
 nation as well as to the individual ! But mark 
 the selfishness of some, particularly of the 
 aristocracy. The Duke of Cleveland has an 
 
 * See Note L.
 
 178 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 estate twenty-three miles along the public 
 highway ; the Duke of Devonshire owns 
 ninety-six thousand acres in the county of 
 Derby alone, besides other immense estates 
 throughout the three kingdoms ; the Duke of 
 Richmond has three hundred thousand acres 
 at Gordon Castle, and forty thousand acres at 
 Goodwood, besides vast estates at other places ; 
 the Duke of Norfolk's park in Sussex is fif 
 teen miles in circumference ; the Marquis of 
 Breadalbane can ride a hundred miles in a 
 straight line on his own property ; the Duke 
 of Sutherland owns an entire county in 
 Scotland, from sea to sea. Other instances of 
 such rapacious monopoly could be given, but 
 the list is long enough. Two thirds of the land 
 owned by such persons is totally unimproved, 
 and those already in possession of immense 
 estates are eager to acquire more. The late 
 Marchioness of Stafford took from her tenants 
 over seven hundred and ninety-four thousand 
 arres, which had been held by them or their 
 fathers for centuries ! What can be expected 
 but discontent and poverty when good land 
 is thus monopolized and .diverted from culti 
 vation for the purpose of enlarging private 
 parks, or of being made into forests or sheep- 
 walks? Is not this another fertile cause of 
 discontent ? Should such exclusive possession 
 be allowed to continue ? Attempt to reform 
 the abuse for the benefit of the plundered 
 masses, and religion will' side with the rapa 
 cious, will pervert ideas of justice, and cry 
 out for vested rights : attempt a revolution, 
 the church will preach obedience to power, 
 it will stand by the oppressor, and grow fran 
 tic in denunciation." 
 
 " Well, I often heard," said Mr. Styles, 
 " that they used to hold pretty considerable 
 estates down South ; but for one man to hang 
 on to a hundred miles of land right along in 
 a straight line, is about the tallest kind of 
 ownership I ever heerd of. I like your idea 
 of limiting a man to a thousand acres. Even 
 that's too much of good, arable land ; yet 'tis 
 a great improvement, and I hope to see it car 
 ried out yet, even were it in Old Virginny." 
 
 " 'Tis dreadful to think that such a state of 
 things should continue to exist," resumed Mr. 
 Manners. " There should be no such thing 
 as actual poverty ; there is enough for all ; yet 
 what deplorable suffering from mismanage 
 ment and i nj ustice ! Many schemes have been 
 advanced to rid the world of paupers. Civili 
 zation often lets them perish. Communists, 
 socialists, and moral and political reformers 
 of every degree have been perplexed with the 
 problem of poverty but to what effectual 
 purpose ? Unfortunately it has been too fre 
 quently assumed that privation is normal. 
 Whence is gnastly pauperism that prolific 
 parent of crime? It stalks through tlieland 
 with blanched face and hollow cheek, sifting 
 the garbage of cess-pools, and living yes, 
 living on refuse and rottenness, and watching 
 with wolfish scowl for plunder, or, it may be, 
 for blood ! Whence this phantom of moral and 
 physical disease? It is the offspring of fraud 1 
 and oppression, the certain result of a depriva 
 tion of human rights. Poverty is simply the 
 effect of a continued wrong ; yet, if govern 
 ments were based on just principles, the 
 
 remedy would be plain and simple. The first 
 great move in social reform should be a re 
 storation of natural rights. Every brute 
 creature free from man's control finds'a boun 
 tiful supply in the lap of nature. Was lesa 
 provision made for man ? Every human being 
 is entitled to light, air, food, clothing, and 
 shelter ; these are natural rights, of which to 
 deprive any man is to despoil, to rob. Every 
 government should guarantee those rights 
 and make them respected ; this should be a 
 first and principal duty. Our poor-law system 
 is based upon the principle that human crea 
 tures must not be allowed to starve, that they 
 have a right to food ; but instead of properly 
 recognizing this beneficent law, we delay in 
 most cases until they are reduced to the most 
 abject want before relief is offered ; tnen 
 charity becomes a mark of degradation. How 
 does the state assent ? It seldom interferes 
 until famishing men are driven to pauperism 
 or crime, and as soon as they have become 
 disreputable or infamous they are fed and 
 cared for. The uncomplaining poor may suf 
 fer without relief until terrible hunger has 
 overcome their good resolves; but when at 
 last they become debauched by poverty, and 
 trained to felony by want, then they are quali 
 fied for the grateful shelter of a prison and 
 entitled to the food and protection for which 
 they had perhaps reluctantly bartered their 
 honor. 
 
 " How deplorable I To prevent this, all 
 should have their natural rights, rich and 
 poor alike. Those in need should be able to 
 avail themselves of the food, clothing, and 
 shelter ready to be dispensed by the state. 
 Of course, there should be a limitation until 
 the system became general ; a country or 
 nation could only afford to keep its own peo 
 ple, just as a parish now keeps its own poor. 
 What was given should of necessity be plain, 
 but good and sufficient ; it should be furnished 
 as a right, not doled out as a charity. That 
 which the rich or prosperous might decline 
 to accept could be estimated, and an allowance 
 made for the same on any claim held against 
 them by the government. Those who wished 
 for better than the state had to furnish should 
 gain it by their own industry. Thus, while 
 all were insured against positive want, there 
 would yet be an incentive to labor ; those who 
 wished to advance in social position would 
 have to be diligent in order to improve their 
 own condition. In connection with this, a 
 liberal education perfectly free from sectarian 
 bias should be placed within the reach of 
 all. 
 
 " In such a plan of benevolence fairly in 
 practice there need be no obtrusive socialism ; 
 every one, as circumstances permitted, would 
 be at full liberty to accept or refuse that 
 which the government had for distribution. 
 Every industrious person could acquire pro 
 perty, live in his own house, and improve his 
 own condition, just as at present, independent 
 of all others; but the state should make no 
 class distinction in the appropriation of simple 
 necessaries, just as no distinction or exemp 
 tion would be made among those liable to 
 pay a rated proportion of taxes. There ifl 
 generally an abundance of food to be had, if
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 
 not in one country, in another, and the 
 government storehouses should always be 
 amply provided. It is not probable, however, 
 that eveu a third of the population of any 
 country would ever avail themselves of such 
 assistance. 
 
 " The establishment of any such system 
 would, in my opinion, be a remedy for the 
 evil of pauperism, and the only certain one 
 of which I can conceive. It might be made very 
 simple, and, in the long run. less or no more 
 costly than even the heavy penalty resulting 
 from the wretched and unjust governmental 
 policy, and the disreputable diplomatic shifts 
 and stratagems which have obtained for cen 
 turies, and which, besides creating innumera 
 ble woes, have vastly increased national ob 
 ligations. The rich could not reasonably 
 complain, for all would be privileged to par 
 take alike, and heavy imposts, for which the 
 wealthy are now mainly liable, would be, no 
 doubt, greatly reduced, and many others en 
 tirely abolished. The poor would be made 
 more virtuous, and would not be the humili 
 ated recipients of a stinted, morose charity. 
 Hunger, that great incentive to crime, would 
 be appeased. Even if actuated by no higher 
 motive, prevention would be better than cure, 
 and man would feel more dignified, more 
 grateful, and more inclined to do what 
 was correct when he learned to know his 
 rights, and found them respected ; when 
 he was cared for by his parent state, instead 
 of being shunned as an outcast, prostrated by 
 poverty, and treated in many respects worse 
 than a beast. And then what a happy result 
 to the state itself less misery, less discontent, 
 less degradation, less crime, and perhaps, 
 eventually, far less expense I Indeed, what it 
 now costs to keep up additional armaments, 
 armies, police, and numerous aids to suppress 
 the turbulence created by wrong legislation, 
 besides that which is required to put nume 
 rous pains and penalties in force, and the im 
 mense sums wasted for many unworthy pur 
 poses, would do much to meet this new and just 
 demand for national benevolence ; and as there 
 is generally an excess of officials in govern 
 ment employ, none in addition would be re 
 quired. 
 
 " I can not go into details more fully at pre 
 sent ; but the management regarding plain 
 buildings, with gardens or grounds to culti 
 vate if possible, to be called, say, public 
 homes, not ' poor-houses ' or ' houses of 
 refuge,' and that concerning the distribution 
 of food and clothing, could be made very sim 
 ple ; honest and careful legislation is only re 
 quired to start the great experiment. And 
 satisfied am I that the names of those who 
 supported such a measure of justice and hu 
 manity would be recorded on millions of liv 
 ing hearts and registered for the gratitude of 
 future ages." 
 
 " I fancy I see what you're at," said Samuel 
 Styles. ' Every man belonging to a national 
 ship feels that when he turns in at night he 
 is sure of his grub next day no need of pil 
 fering to get it. And you would liken the 
 state to a great ship, and feed and clothe every 
 man on board. Somehow I like the notion 
 guess 'twill bear some calculation. I'll figure 
 
 it up ; for even in Yankee land, though we 
 may be a leetle ahead of all creation in some 
 matters, we an't yet quite perfect. Our gov 
 ernment is yet but an elective monarchy ; we 
 must get rid of the ' one-man ixnver ;' we 
 want no uncrowned kings our presiden 
 tial elections are sinks of political corruption, 
 into which all parties plunge. We need no 
 costly presidents to guide our ship of 
 state they mostly rule for a party ; and be 
 fore we are entitled to be called the ' Great 
 Republic,' we must first be a true republic ; 
 we must have an economical government, 
 more simple like that of the Swiss, than that 
 of flashy, imperial France. 'T would do our 
 senators and congressmen no harm to take a 
 friendly hint once in a while from such a liberal 
 British cousin ; it might give us a fresh start 
 in advance and do many a world <>f good ; 
 and, acting at once on your idea, we might still 
 lead on in the cause of human progress." 
 
 Father Tom, who had been listening atten 
 tively to all that had been said on the sub 
 ject, seemed to have been much struck with 
 the benevolence of the plan. He remained 
 silent and reflective for some moments, and 
 then, looking up at Mr. Manners, exclaimed, 
 " Were Britain to lead in this matter, what a 
 post of honor it would occupy in the world !" 
 
 " It would, no doubt," continued Mr. Man 
 ners; " but some of our so-called great states 
 men are so wedded to their prejudices that it 
 will be difficult to move them in a new direc 
 tion. I am aware that difficulties exist which 
 may be urged against bringing such a system 
 to a prac'ical issue ; but those difficulties are 
 more imaginary than real. Timid politicians 
 may probably elaborate as to the expense, 
 without making a just estimate of the great 
 advantages to be gained ; they may draw a 
 line of distinction between the country and 
 the people, and while heedless and extravagant 
 in upholding the honor of the one, may be 
 still almost indifferent as to the poverty and 
 degradation of the other. They may con 
 tinue to take a wrong idea of what is right 
 just as false notions are still entertained as to 
 what is virtue or what is crime. However, 
 until a full measure of justice is meted out to 
 all, until there is a full restoration of human 
 rights, it should be tlie great duty of the 
 nation to make suitable provision for all of its 
 people in actual need, sickness, or distress, 
 and for the children of such, until they are 
 educated and able to do for themselves. Those 
 who are willing to labor, but who can find no 
 employment, should not be left a prey to hun 
 ger. If the state continues to sanction and 
 uphold an unfair distribution of land, it should 
 either provide work or food for those who 
 have no land to cultivate. And next to a 
 security from degrading poverty, there should 
 be a free education for all. 
 
 " Pauperism is a disgrace, a pestilence which 
 should be stamped out were it to take the 
 crown jewels or national treasures to find 
 food, or had every church in the kingdom to 
 be opened and used as a shelter for the home 
 less. No nation can claim to be truly great 
 while thousands of its people are obliged to 
 go supperless to bed. Governments must be 
 come more paternal, and not remain as some,
 
 178 
 
 EXETER HALL. 
 
 like the shadow of despotism upon the land. 
 Advanced ideas have had their effect upon 
 legislation, and the conservatism and exclusive- 
 ness of the past will no longer be tolerated. 
 And, kind friends, hoping on, may we live to 
 witness the fraternity of nations, and may we 
 see the priest and the soldier, who have kept 
 them so long divided, obliged to turn to occu 
 pations more in the interest of humanity." 
 
 This was Martin Mannors's prayer ; he held 
 out his hand and looked upward as he spoke, 
 there was a short pause, and then, as if with 
 one voice, they all exclaimed, Amen. 
 
 In due time, Mr. and Mrs. Capel returned, 
 to the great joy of Mrs. Mannors, and to 
 the thorough disgust of the aspiring Mr. 
 Bross, who, regretting having ever entertained 
 a favorable opinion of any person known to be 
 skeptical, had rejoined the church and Sunday- 
 school and commenced a redistribution of 
 tracts. The industrious Hannah, in the fullness 
 of a happy spirit, grew more fascinated with 
 John Bunyan ; but Robert hopes to be able to 
 alienate her affections to some extent from 
 that dreaming pillar of orthodoxy and per 
 haps to legally monopolize the greater share 
 of them himself. Father Tom had to leave 
 for Ireland, but engaged to return in a short 
 time and embark with his friend Capel who 
 with his wife had already become active Spiritu 
 alists in the publication of a paper intended 
 to advocate human rights and to expose popu 
 lar superstition and priestly fraud. Samuel 
 
 Styles, who was a great favorite among the Sec 
 ularists and Spiritualists of London, was honor 
 ed by them with a public dinner at the Red 
 Lion, and soon afterward took passage for New- 
 York, bearing to the liberal bodies of that city 
 the fraternal greeting of their brethren in Eng 
 land. He promised, however, to pay Hamp- 
 stead another visit within a year, provided 
 Mr. Mannors would, in the mean time, cross 
 the Atlantic and hail the friends of free 
 thought in America. This proposal is likely 
 to be favorably entertained, and Martin Man 
 nors may expect an enthusiastic reception. 
 
 How long still is the human mind to re 
 main in the bonds of superstition ? How long 
 is the great delusion to continue 1 Shall men 
 learn hatred through nationality and religion, 
 and shall Christian priests pursue their syste 
 matic extortion and maintain their mischiev 
 ous rule for yet another century ? Shall annual 
 meetings continue to be sustained in order to 
 promote the circulation of that dreary volume 
 of " inspiration," and shall cunning words and 
 mystic threats drain further millions from the 
 credulous? It may be so for a time ; but there 
 are even now hopeful signs of a rescue. After 
 a trial of over eighteen hundred years, Chris 
 tianity has so far failed in its mission. The 
 triumph 'of reason and humanity must be ac 
 complished, and there are those now living 
 who may witness their ascendency and cele 
 brate their union and installation as the great 
 ruling guide and power of EXETER HALT..
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 NOTE A. 
 
 IN Puritan Massachusetts, during the period which 
 Cotton Mather called the "golden age'' of the Pil 
 grims, it was enacted with regard to heretical books : 
 
 " It is ordered that all and every one of the inhabi 
 tants of this jurisdiction that have any books in their 
 custody that go under the names of John Beeves and 
 Lodowick Muggleton, (who pretend themselves to be 
 the last two witnesses,) and shall not bring or send in 
 all such books to the next magistrate, shall forfeit 10, 
 and the books shall be burnt in the market-place at 
 Boston, on next lecture day, by the common execu 
 tioner." 
 
 And respecting infidels and skeptics : 
 
 " Any one denying the Scripture to be the word of 
 God shall pay not exceeding 50, and be severely 
 whipped not exceeding 40 strokes, unless he publicly 
 recant, in which case he shall not pay above 10, or be 
 whipped in case he pay not the fine. And if the said 
 offender after his recantation, sentence, pr execution, 
 shall the second time publish, and obstinately and per 
 tinaciously maintain, the said wicked opinion, he shall 
 be banished or put to DEATH, as the court shall judge." 
 
 PURITANISM. 
 
 It is recorded in the early history of the Puritans of 
 New-England that 
 
 ' The Quakers were whipped, branded, had their 
 ears cut off, their tongues bored with hot irons, and 
 were banished upon the pain of death in case of their 
 return, and actually executed on the gallows." 
 
 It is also recorded in the same history : 
 
 " The practice of selling the natives of North-Ameri 
 ca into foreign bondage continued for two centuries. 
 The articles of the early New-England Confederacy 
 class persons among the spoils of war. A scanty rem 
 nant of the Pequod tribe in Connecticut, the captives 
 treacherously made by Waldron in New-Hampshire, 
 the harmless fragments of the tribe of Annamon, the 
 orphan offspring of King Philip himself, were all 
 doomed to the same hard destiny of perpetual bon 
 dage." 
 
 The same history also says : 
 
 " Where are now the numerous and flourishing 
 tribes of Indians which once peopled New-England ? 
 Where are the Narragansetts, the Pequods, the Pokano- 
 kets, the Mohegans, and the Mohawks, to say nothing 
 of other tribes ? All have disappeared from the face 
 of the earth, thanks to the cold-blooded policy and 
 heartless cruelty of the Puritans ! They all vanished 
 at the first dawn of Puritan civilization 1 First over 
 reached in trade by the cunning Yankees, then hem 
 med up within restricted territories, then goaded into 
 war, and then exterminated with five and sword. . . 
 
 " The Pokanokets were the first tribe to shelter the 
 Pilgrims after their landing on Plymouth Rock, and 
 they were the first to fall victims to their insidious and 
 ungrateful policy." 
 
 It is further recorded in the same history: 
 
 " At the two sessions of the court in September, 
 1693, fourteen women and one man were sentenced to 
 death on charge of witchcraft One oli man of eighty 
 refused to plead, and by that horrible decree of the 
 common law was pressed to death. 
 
 ' Although it was evident that confession was the 
 only safety" in most cases, some few had courage to re- 
 iract their confessions ; some eight of them were sent 
 to execution. Twenty persons had already been put 
 to death, eight more were under sentence, the jails 
 were full of prisoners, and new accusations were made 
 every day." 
 
 Among the laws recorded in the early history of 
 New-England, were the following provisions : 
 
 " No one shall travel, cook victuals, make beds, 
 sweep house, cut hair, or shave on the Sabbath-day." 
 
 "If any man shall kiss his wife, or wife her hus 
 band, on the Lord's day, the party in fault shall bo 
 punished at the discretion of the coqrt of magistrates." 
 
 "N> woman shall kiss her child on the Sabbath or 
 fasting-day." 
 
 To these provisions of the law the historian appends 
 the following note : 
 
 " A gentleman, after an absence of some months, 
 reached home on the Sabbath, and. meeting his wife at 
 the door, kissed her with an appetite, and, for his te 
 merity in violating the law, the next day was arraigned 
 before the court and fined for so palpable a breach of 
 the law on the Lord's day." 
 
 NOTE B. 
 
 THE following report of the proceedings of a Bible 
 Society meeting, held in December. 18(53, at the city of 
 Hamilton, in the Province of Upper Canada, speaks for 
 itself, and shows that little, if indeed any. exaggera 
 tion has been used in the narrative of the Bible-meet 
 ing at Hampstead. Were it not for the reliable ac 
 count of the one, the other would be asserted a libel 
 against Christian unity, and what strong language 
 might be used by '' reverend gentlemen" and pious 
 hearers against its reckless author. 
 
 HAMILTON BIBLE SOCIETY MEETING. 
 
 IT ENDS IN A FREE FIGHT. 
 
 (From the Hamilton Spectator.) 
 
 In accordance with the circular issued by Edward 
 Jackson. Esq., one of the Vice-Presidents of the Ham 
 ilton Branch Bible Society, a meeting of the members 
 was held in the Mechanics' Hall yesterday evening. 
 The public were also admitted, but the front seats 
 were reserved for the members, so as to distinguish 
 them from the rest of the audience. There were from 
 a hundred to one hundred and fifty members present, 
 and about four hundred of the general public. 
 
 On the platform, to the right of the chair, were the 
 Rev. Messrs. Burnet, Pullar, Cheetham. and Irvine ; 
 and Messrs. C. D. Reid, Wilson Kennedy, and A. Mil- 
 roy ; on the left were the Rev. Messrs Ormiston, Rice, 
 and Inglis. Mr. Sheriff Thomas, and Messrs. E. Jack 
 son and James Watson. 
 
 Shortly after seven o'clock, the Rev. Mr. Burnet 
 rose and said that, as it was now past the time at 
 which the meeting was called, he would move that Mr. 
 A. Milroy take the chair. 
 
 Mr. Kennedy seconded the motion. 
 
 Mr. Sheriff Thomas said he supposed the object of 
 the motion was to test the feeling of the meeting, but 
 decorum dictated that, in the absence of the President, 
 the vice-president should take the chair. He would 
 therefore move, in amendment, that Edward Jackson, 
 Esq., be chairman. 
 
 Rev. Dr. Ormiston said It was unnecessary to say one 
 word in favor of the propriety of the course proposed 
 by the sheriff. He seconded the amendment. 
 
 The sheriff then put the amendment to the meet 
 ing, and declared it carried amidst cheers and hisses. 
 
 Mr. Jackson came forward and took the chair. 
 
 Mr. C. D. Reid rose, and was received with loud cries 
 of "Chair! chair 1" He attempted to apeak, but HO
 
 180 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 great was the uproar that it was impossible to hear ' 
 him. All that reached us was, " I protest against Mr. 
 Jackson taking the chair." 
 
 Rev. Mr. Biirnet iiext took the stand, and was 
 greeted in a similar manner. He said, " I have just 
 one word of explanation." (Uproar, which continued 
 for some time.) 
 
 Rev. Dr. Onniston tried to say something, but was 
 not permitted to be heard. 
 
 Rev. Mr. Kurnet continued, amidst interruptions, 
 " As mover of the motion. 1 am entitled to one word 
 of explanation. This meeting lias been called by Mr. 
 Jackson, and it did seem to Kim proper that the one 
 calling it should take the chair. 
 
 The chairman said he had been placed in not a very 
 pleasant position, and he would need all their sympa 
 thy and forbearance. They had assembled to hold a 
 meeting of the Bible Society, and tbey ought to re 
 spect the principles of the Bible. Before proceeding 
 to the business of the evening, he would request Rev. 
 Dr. Ormlatoo to implore the divine blessing. 
 
 Rev. Dr. Ormiston offered up prayer. 
 
 The chairman said he would say a few words on the 
 occasion of their being called together. It had been 
 the custom for the last twenty-five years to arrange 
 the business of the annual meeting in committee. 
 This year they had failed to do so, in consequence of 
 a difference regarding the appointment of certain offi 
 cers. The minority of the committee determined on 
 carrying the matter to the annual meeting, and to 
 that course he attributed all the subsequent inharmo 
 nious proceedings. He was persuaded that Exeter 
 Hall would not tolerate an amendment at an annual 
 meeting, for there all the business was arranged in 
 committee. However, at their annual meeting, after 
 the list of officers had been proposed and an amend 
 ment offered, it was thought, by some that they could 
 not arrive at a just conclusion, it being a mixed meet 
 ing, and a resolution was therefore passed adjourning 
 the election of officers to a meeting of the members of 
 the society, to be called by circular a fortnight after 
 ward. The circular was issued, but on account of ap 
 pearances, to which he would not now allude, it was 
 thought proper to postpone it indefinitely. The pre 
 sent meeting was based on that postponement, and 
 had all the powers of the annual meeting. They 
 could propose amendments to the constitution, (and he 
 believed some gentlemen intended doing so,) elect of 
 ficers, or dissolve the society if they pleased. He 
 woulo now call on the Rev. Mr. Inglis to address the 
 meeting. 
 
 Rev. Ttfr. Cheetham started to his feet, holding a pa 
 per in his hand, and Rev. Mr. Inglis also rose. 
 
 Then commenced a furious uproar, which continued 
 without cessation until the breaking up of the meet 
 ing. Cries of " Cheetham, Cheetham 1" "Inglis, In 
 glis !" alternated, and neither speaker was allowed a 
 Bearing. 
 
 Mr. Cheetham was the first to make the attempt, 
 but was met by so great a noise that it was useless to 
 persist. 
 
 Mr. Inglis Mr. Chairman and friends (cheers and 
 hisses.) 
 
 Mr. Cheetham I move that, as this meeting (up 
 roar.) 
 
 The chairman rose and said that he decided Mr. 
 Cheetham to be out of order. 
 
 Mr. Cheetham again tried to speak, but with a simi 
 lar result as previous attempts. 
 
 Mr. Inglis Will this meeting allow me just one 
 moment t (" No, no," and continued uproar.) 
 
 Mr. Cheetham Just one moment. (Laughter and 
 hisses ) 
 
 Tim chairman, having obtained a hearing, read a 
 lettei from John Young, Esq., requesting that his 
 name be withdrawn from the liflt of vice-presidents, 
 as he was disinclined to continue associated, even in 
 name, with a society, the committee of which acted 
 in such a disgraceful manner. 
 
 Mr. Inglis and Mr. Cheetham again attempted to 
 address the meeting, but all attempts were In vain, 
 for the hooting and yelling was at once commenced 
 when either of them opened his mouth. 
 
 Mr. James Mclntyre rose in the body of the hall, and 
 inquired of the chairman who had the right to the 
 floor. 
 
 The Chairman Mr. Inglis. 
 
 Mr. Chcotham I have the right; and I intend to 
 have that right. (Cheers and hisses.) 
 
 Mr. Coombs said he had come to the meeting, as he 
 nad no doubt many others had, to see fair play. The 
 first one on the floor had the right to speak, and as 
 Mr. Chfotham was the first, if the other had any sense 
 of propriety, he would sit down. (Cheers.) 
 
 Mr. Cheetham Allow me just one moment. (Cries 
 of " Shut up 1" " Go on !" etc.) 
 
 At this stage of the proceedings, Mr. Hugh McMa- 
 hon, amidst fond cheering, went upon the platform, 
 and took a seat behind the chairman, but higher up. 
 
 Mr. Sergeant-Major Brown, seconded by W. Powis, 
 Esq., moved that the meeting adjourn sine die. 
 
 The chairman said it was of no use for any one to 
 occupy the chair when no respect was paid to it. As 
 he despaired of restoring order, he would declare the 
 meeting dissolved. (Loud cheers.) 
 
 We may state that the motion Mr. Cheetham was 
 desirous of moving read as follows : " That, as this 
 meeting is wholly illegal, we adjourn." 
 
 Notwithstanding the declaration of the dissolution 
 of the meeting, the crowd still lingered in the hall, as 
 if expecting something else to occur, and their expec 
 tations were not long ungratified. A swaying to and 
 fro of a knot of persons in the centre of 'the hall at 
 tracted our attention, and on proceeding thither, we 
 found Hugh McMahou and a Mr. King struggling for 
 the possession of a walking-stick. The origin of the 
 disturbance, as near as we could ascertain, was as 
 follows : McMahon wtnt up to Mr. James Walker, 
 who had the books of the society under his arm. and 
 took hold of them. Mr. King went in between them, 
 and pushed away McMahon, Mr. Walker making his 
 escape in the mean time. McMahou seized hold of 
 King's stick, one or two others joined in, and soon 
 there was quite a disturbance, but it would doubtless 
 soon have been quelled had it not been for the intro 
 duction of another element. Some five or six Irish 
 men (and Roman Catholics, we believe) armed with 
 shillelahs, dashed into the crowd with wild whoops 
 and yells, and laid about with their sticks in the most 
 promiscuous manner, the loader crying out, " Clear 
 the way before you, boys 1" The seats were scat 
 tered in all directions-, and a scene of the wildest con 
 fusion ensued. After a time the gang of rowdies 
 went out of the hall, smashing at the seats with their 
 bludgeons, and yelling like savages. The excitement 
 continued for some time after their disappearance ; 
 and it was not until the superintendent prepared to 
 turn out the gas that the crowd was persuaded to 
 leave the hall. 
 
 A LATER PIOUS SCENE. 
 
 " At a Methodist chapel in Yorkshire, England, on a 
 recent Sunday, (April, 18(i9,) there was a regular battle 
 between the trustees and Sunday-school teachers, who 
 had been ordered out of the building by the trustees. 
 One of the teachers had a large piece bitten oft' hia 
 thumb, and another person was seriously injured by 
 a buffet being thrown at his head from the pulpit. 
 Bibles and hymn-books were freely used in the fight." 
 Extractfrom Brooklyn Daily Paper, May 'id, 180'J. 
 
 NOTE C. 
 
 IT Is well known that the clerical defenders of sla 
 very in the Southern States of the American Republic 
 invariably sought to strengthen their position by an 
 appeal to Holy Scripture, as fully authorizing the es 
 tablishment and propriety of *luwy. Independent, 
 however, of the sanction deduced from the Bible, it 
 also seems that they could see "God's providential 
 care" manifested on behalf of the inhuman system. 
 The pious Bishop Elliott, of Savannah, Georgia, in a 
 thanksgiving sermon, thus alluded to slavery. He said : 
 
 " It is very curious and very striking in this connec 
 tion to trace out the history of slavery in this country, 
 and to observe God's providential care over it ever 
 since its introduction. African slavery had its origin 
 in this country in an act of mercy, to save the Indian 
 from a toil which was destroying him ; but while the 
 Indian has perished, the substitute who was brought 
 to die in his place has lived, prospered, and multiplied. 
 Behold the providential interposition 1 Then, when 
 the slave-trade was destroyed, the inability any longer 
 to obtain slaves through importation forced upon mas 
 ters in these States a greater attention to the comforts 
 and morals of their slaves. The family relation was 
 fostered, the marriage tie grew in importance, and thu 
 800,0':0 slaves who inhabited these States at the closing 
 of our ports in 1808 have, in the short space of fifty 
 years, grown into four millions." 
 
 How widely different have been the conclusions 
 drawn by Northern and other Christian teachers from 
 the same inspired word respecting slavery ; and how 
 plainly they can now trace the finger of Providence in 
 its total abolition 1 Yet, strange to say, the Americac 
 Religious Tract Society, during the existence of slaver) 
 In the South, never permitted the publication of anj
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 181 
 
 thing reflecting upon lhat vile oppression ; and, in its 
 rcpiiblications, generally expunged all that had been 
 written against slavery by others J 
 
 Slavery ha8 caused the greatest disunion among 
 Christian ministers as well as among Christian people. 
 Since the close of the American rebellion, a proposition 
 for reunion among Northern and Southern Methodists 
 was promptly rejected, and the organ ot" the latter 
 body, the Episcopal M<-//n/i*t, the leading Southern 
 journal of that denomination, published at Richmond, 
 made the following remarks on the subject : 
 
 "A formal reunion with Northern Methodism is to 
 be deprecated as the most intolerable calamity that 
 c-oiild befall our Southern Zion. To consent to it on 
 the terms suggested, we must abjure our principles, 
 sacrifice our position of usefulness, consign the me 
 mory of our brethren and fathers to infamy, pronounce 
 the sentence of self-condemnation upon our ^yhple 
 communion, and accept a feature in the moral discipline 
 of a dominant Church which dooms to death and dam 
 nation all who have Ijeen connected with what it deno 
 minates 'the great evil' 'the detested sin of slavery.' " 
 
 How '-kindly affectionate" are sutli exhibitions 
 among the divinely enlightened 1 
 
 NOTE D. 
 
 THE following extract from that greatly admired 
 work, liicrtf-i's Saint"'' Rest, (unabridged,) will give a 
 fair idea of the revolting orthodox opinion concerning 
 the vengeance of God : 
 
 "Your torments shall be universal. The soul and 
 the body shall each have its torments. The guilt of 
 their sins will be to damned souls like tinder to gnu- 
 powder to make the flames of hell take hold of them 
 with fury. The eyes shall be tortured with sights of 
 horror and hosts of devils and damned souls. The 
 ear shall be tortured with the bowlings and curses of 
 tneir companions in torment Their smell shall be 
 tortured with the fumes of brimstone, and the liquid 
 mass of eternal (ire shall prey on every part. No drop 
 of water shall be allowed to cool their tongues ; no 
 moment's respite permitted to relieve their agonies." 
 
 What a hideous picture ! And yet poor Baxter be 
 lieved his God to be merciful and gracious " Whose 
 mercy endureth forever 1" 
 
 A terrific " Sight of Hell," from a Catholic point of 
 view, will further illustrate the fearful teachings of 
 religion : 
 
 "HELL DEPICTED TOR THE YOUNG. 
 
 "At present, (says the Pall Matt Gazette,} when there 
 is so much discussion about what all children should 
 be taught, it is useful to know what some children are 
 taught. We have before us the tentli of a series of 
 books for children and young persons,' composed 
 Dy the Rev. J. Furniss, C.S.S.R., and published by 
 authority, for it is stamped 'jjf.nnixxu x//i>eriorum.' 
 Its title is The Sif/M of Hell, and its contents are quite 
 as startling as the title. The children who are in 
 structed out of this work will learn, ' It seems likely 
 that hell is in the middle of the earth :' and the Rev. 
 J. Furniss adds : ' We know how far it is to the middle 
 of the earth. It is just four thousand miles. So if 
 hell is in the middle of the earth, it is four thousand 
 miles to the horrible prison of hell.' Down in this 
 place is a terrific noise. The children are asked to 
 : listen to the tremendous, the horrible uproar of mil 
 lions and millions and millions of tormented creatures, 
 mad with the fury of hell. Oh 1 the screams of fear, 
 the groanings of horror, the yells of rage, the cries of 
 pain, the shouts of agony, the shrieks of despair from 
 millions on miljions ! There you hear them roaring 
 like lions, hissing like serpents, howling like dogs, 
 and wailing like dragons. There you hear the gnash 
 ing of teetli and the fearful blasphemies of the devils. 
 Above all, you hear the roaring of the thunders of 
 God's anger, which shakes hell to its foundations. 
 But there is another sound. There is in hell a sound 
 like that of many waters. It is as if all the rivers and 
 oceans of the world were pouring themselves with a 
 great splash down on the floor of hell. Is it, then, 
 really the sound of waters ? It is. Are the rivers and 
 oceans of the earth pouring themselves into hell ? No. 
 What is it, then ? It is the sound of oceans of tears 
 running down from countless millions of eyes. They 
 cry forever and ever. They cry because the sulphur 
 ous smoke torments their eyes. They cry because 
 they are in darkness. They cry because they have 
 lost the beautiful heaven. They cry because the sharp 
 fire burns them. Little child, it is better to cry one 
 tear of repentance now than to cry millions of tears in 
 
 hell.' It is hardly heedful to follow the Rev. J. Fur 
 niss through all his ghastly pictures. Tl.t foregoing 
 passage is a fair specimen of his style, and the sub 
 stance of his remarks is not so attractive as to induce 
 us to quote at great length. We can not, however, 
 withhold the following picture of what is to be wit 
 nessed in the third dungeon that is, in the lowest 
 depths of hell . ' The roof is red hot ; the walls are red- 
 hot : the floor is like a thick sheet of red-hot iron. 
 See, on the middle of that red-hot iron floor stands a 
 girl. She looks about sixteen years old. She has nei 
 ther shoes nor stockings on her feet. The door of 
 this room has never been opened before since she first 
 set her foot on the red-hot floor. Now she sees that 
 the door is opening. She rushes forward. She has 
 gone down on her knees on the red-hot floor. Listen ! 
 she speaks. She says, " I have been standing with my 
 bare feet on this red-hot floor for years. Day and 
 night my only standing-place has been this red-hot 
 floor. Sleep never came on me for a moment that I 
 might forget this horrible, burning floor." " Look." she 
 says, " at my burnt and bleeding feet. Let me go off 
 this burning floor for one moment, only for a single, 
 short moment. Oh ! that in this endless eternity of 
 years I might forget the pain only for one single mo 
 ment." The devil answers her question: "Do you 
 ask." he says, "for a moment, for one moment, to for 
 get your pain ? No, not for one single moment during 
 the never-ending eternity of years shall you ever leave 
 this red hot floor." " Is it so ?" the girl says, with a 
 sigh that seems to break her heart ; " then, at least .let 
 somebody go to my little brothers and sisters, who are 
 alive, and fell them not to do the bad things which I did, 
 so that they will never have to come and stand on the 
 red-hot floor" The devil answers her again, "Your 
 little brothers and sisters have the priests to tell them 
 these things. If they will not listen to the priests, 
 neither would they listen even if somebody should go 
 to them from the dead.'" The concluding sentence 
 proves that the ' mocking fiend ' can twist Set ipture to 
 his own ends. It is clear, also, that the Rev. J. Fur 
 niss has no scruple in accepting the devil's advocacy 
 of 'the priests ' It is permitted to the upholders of 
 any creed to spread it abroad without opposition ; but 
 those who use such questionable methods as the Rev. 
 J. Furniss deserve censure even while they enjoy tole 
 ration. Lest it be supposed that we have selected an 
 obsolete work for comment, we may add that the copy 
 before us was published in 1864. On the cover its 
 author is styled 'Father' Furniss. Were he really a 
 father, he would never have penned such a work, nor 
 would he have enjoined on others the duty of teaching 
 its doctrines to children." 
 
 Religious tract societies circulate similar pious 
 blasphemies for the edification of women and children, 
 and large sums are regularly expended in order to ter 
 rify the "unconverted" and bring them to ''belief" 
 by stereotyping such savage and inhuman threats. 
 
 NOTE E. 
 
 A PROOF of the tender mercies of the state form of 
 Christianity was given in the London National 7iV- 
 formn- of April, 1864, about four weeks previous to 
 the great Bible Meeting held in Exeter Hall : 
 
 " It is, we are assured, unquestionably true that on 
 Thursday, the 10th instant, the church-wardens of 
 Broseley (near Birmingham) levied a distraint on the 
 goods of James Clark, a poor laboring man, for the 
 non-payment of the sum of one shilling and threepence 
 halfpenny, which the said James Clark was called 
 upon to contribute toward certain expenses which are 
 annually incurred by the congregation that worships 
 in Broseley parish church ; the articles seized in satis, 
 faction of this claim consisted of a clock, an oak chest, 
 an oak cupboard, two tables, seven chairs, a tea-tmy. 
 a looking-glass, a smoothing-iron, and a straw mat- 
 trass : and that Clark has a family of six children, 
 who, together with his wife, bed-ridden mother, aged 
 eighty three, and his idiotic relative, aged forty-three, 
 constitute the household which has been deprived, at 
 an inclement season, of so many humble, but to them 
 valuable, necessaries in order that the church of the 
 Plate may get the munificent amount of fifteen pence 
 halfpenny. Who can read such an account of Christian 
 charity as this without being filled with the greatest 
 indignation and disgust at the system which is the 
 cause of such disgraceful and cruel proceedings f" 
 
 The same paper, in its weekly issue in May, 1864, 
 thus alludes to a scene at a collection for church-rates 
 in Edinburgh : 
 
 ' ' CHURCH RATE. There was a terrible scene in
 
 182 
 
 'APPENDIX. 
 
 Edinburgh on Tuesday -week, in consequence of a sale 
 by auction of goods seized for minister's money. About 
 four thousand people assembled round the place of 
 sale, and the goods seized were taken possession of, 
 smashed, and burned in St. Andrew's street. Surely 
 It is time the au thorities of Edinburgh saw the injustice 
 of such a rate. This is not the first ' scene ' that has 
 been produced in Edinburgh through the enforcement 
 of what is justly considered an unjust tax ; and unless 
 the rate is abolished, we fear it will not be the last." 
 
 Just about the very time of the above disturbance, 
 reverend and princely church magnates were in Exeter 
 llall glorying in the humanity of Christian civilization ; 
 und, while begging for the benighted heathen in Borneo, 
 were plundering their own Christian poor in happy 
 Britain 1 
 
 NOTE F. 
 
 THE more ancient cosmogony of the Jews has every 
 evidence of decided Egyptian origin. Of the curious 
 representations in one of the principal tombs at 
 Thebes, Miss Martineau says : 
 
 " It is impossible to look upon these representations 
 of the serpent, of the tree of life, of which those who 
 ate were made as gods, of the moving spirit of the 
 Creator and of the universally prevalent ideas of the 
 original spread of water, the separation of the land 
 from the water, the springing of vegetation, and the 
 sudden appearance of animals on the new surface, and 
 the separation of the upper air into regions of abode, 
 without seeing whence was derived the tirst of the 
 two accounts of the creation given in the book of Ge 
 nesis." 
 
 And again : " In their theory of the formation of the 
 world, they (the Egyptians) believed that when the 
 formless void of eternal matter began to part oft' into 
 realms the igneous elements ascending and becom 
 ing a firmament of fiery bodies, the heavier portions 
 sinking and becoming compacted into earth and sca 
 the earth gave out animals, beasts, and reptiles ; an 
 idea evidently derived from their annual spectacle of 
 the coming forth of myriads of living creatures from 
 the soil of their valley on the subsidence of the flood. 
 When we remember that to them the Nile was the 
 sea, and so called by them, and that they had before 
 them the spectacle, which is seen nowhere else, of 
 the springing of the green herb after the separation of 
 the waters from the- land, we shall see how different 
 their view of the creation must be from any which we 
 could naturally form." 
 
 NOTE G. 
 
 TERRIBLE ABUSES IX COUNTRY WORKHOUSES. 
 
 From London Christian World. 
 
 THE Lancet has done good service in directing pub 
 lic attention to the horrors of Farnham workhouse, 
 and thereby leading us to ask whether the same scan 
 dalous neglect may not be possible elsewhere. With 
 in sight of Aldershot, not far from a bishop's palace, 
 and under the eyes of guardians and inspectors, offi 
 cial and amateur, such abominable cruelty has been 
 perpetrated that it can only be characterized as " a re 
 proach to England, a scandal and a curse to a country 
 which calls itself civilized and Christian." For four 
 teen years cruelties almost incredible have been prac 
 ticed, although the visitors' book bears no evidence 
 of a single complaint having been made. On the con 
 trary, the statement perpetually recurs, ' The wards 
 are clean and every thing very satisfactory." Under 
 the guidance of the Lancefs commissioners we know 
 what Hampshire visitors mean by " clean " and every 
 thing being " very satisfactory." The workhouse pre 
 mises are badly constructed, the wards gloomy and 
 comfortless, and dirty beyond description. The ac 
 commodation provided for old and young, for tramps, 
 male and female, and especially for the infirm, is in- 
 toleiable. The casuals are locked up all night in noi 
 some " cages " without food. A short time since, a 
 poor woman, on the verge of her confinement, was im 
 prisoned in this manner, and when the porter unlock 
 ed the cage next morning, she was found to have been 
 already four hours in the pains of child-birth. The in 
 mates of the infirmary are also locked in all night, and 
 the cruelty of this can only be rightly imagined when it 
 is remembered that every convenience is out of doors. 
 Persons mortally sick are left day and night without 
 any nursing attendance except what they might or 
 might not succeed in summoning by ringing a bell 
 ton a nurse, who might be in any part of a large and 
 
 straggling building. Fhe nursing staff for from sixty 
 to ninety patients consists of one paid nurse and one 
 male pauper assistant an invalid, who has been tay- 
 ped five tmies for dropsy. Until Dr. Powell, the me 
 dical oflicer, who has waged a good and persistent 
 fight against the evils of the place, insisted that towels 
 should be allowed, the inmates, after washing or bath 
 ing, dried themselves on the sheets of their beds. 
 The master of the workhouse, who has since been dis 
 missed for gross immorality, several times threatened 
 the doctor with personal violence because he persisted 
 in proposing reform. When the doctor ordered a 
 ' mutton ' dinner, thick lumps of tough beef and ba 
 con were served out to poor old men and women with 
 out a tooth in their heads. The children did iiot fare 
 any better. The ' nursery ' is a gloomy, damp, brick- 
 floored room, with absolutely no furniture except one 
 low wooden bench, on which seven or eight little chil 
 dren were sitting, in front of the fire. They had r.o 
 toys, no amusement, and no education." Such are a 
 few of the horrors which the Lancet has laid bare. A 
 more deplorable state of things can hardly be ima- 
 
 fined. The question is. Are other country work- 
 ouses in a similar plight? It is evident we can no 
 longer rely on the reports of poor-law inspectors. 
 Even independent visitors appear to have been afllict- 
 ed with blindness in part, Having begun the work, 
 we trust the Lancet will pursue it with unflinching 
 fidelity. 
 
 THE LONDON POOR. 
 
 Distress always reigns in London, the very rich and 
 the very poor being close neighbors in the great 
 metropolis. The London Times notices that at cer 
 tain doors of some of the districts of the city crowds 
 of men may be seen jostling, striving, almost fight 
 ing each other for admission ; and the admission, 
 when once secured, is not to see a favorite actor or 
 hear a popular preacher, or to witness a prize-fight or 
 rat-bait, but to gain the privilege of breaking hard 
 stones in a cold, muddy yard attached to the parish 
 workhouse, for the reward of threepence and a loaf 
 of bread. " These men," it adds, " are not clad in the 
 usual stone-yard apparel ; they wear g"ood coats rags 
 are scarcely to be seen. They are men who not very 
 long ago were earning from $6 to $13 weekly, to whom 
 the very mention of the workhouse would have been 
 contamination ; and here they struggle and wrestle for 
 its most meagre advantages." The Journal referred to 
 then makes some comparisons of the relief afforded 
 to the poor. During the winters of 1865-6, the a- .f- 
 age daily number of laborers in the Poplar stone . <trd. 
 attached to one of the London poorhouses, was 200 ; 
 but in the week ending January 9th, 1867, the daily 
 average was over 1000. In the last week of 1806, that 
 poorhouse gave out-door parochial relief to 4340 per 
 sons, as compared with 1974 in the last week of 1865. 
 This establishment is now giving relief to its utmost 
 capacity, and this fact, together with the announce 
 ment that nearly all the funds have been drawn out of 
 the London savings banks the working-classes hav 
 ing been from four to six mouths without regular wa 
 gesshows that at present there is greater distress in 
 London than has been known for a long time. Ame 
 rican Paper. 
 
 NOTE H. 
 
 CHRISTIANITY is imperious in its assumptions; it 
 claims to be all that is truthful, noble, and magnani 
 mous; it boasts of its humanity and of its moral and 
 civilizing influence; but what a burlesque upon its 
 pretensions is its actual history sectarian enmity, 
 gross intolerance, and bloody and inhuman peraecn- 
 tion. Can Christianity, with its arrogance and cupid 
 ity, show a purer record than that exhibited by ancient 
 paganism ? Christian nations are preeminent for 
 their love of war, plunder, and devastation; and so 
 great is their mutual distrust that, even during the un 
 certain periods when there is no actual war, the armed 
 peace of Europe alone costs, as has been stated, about 
 300.000,000 sterling ($1,500,000,000) annually ! Can 
 Christian people claim to be more upright, more hon- 
 orable,and more exemplary than Buddhists, Mohamme 
 dans, or Parsees? In numerous instances the ethics 
 of China or Japan might bring the blush of shame to 
 entire Christendom. What among the deceptive 
 transactions of Bible-worshipers who boast of a 
 purer theology is still most common ? Frauds, in 
 castle and in court, in state affairs and in church mat 
 ters ; frauds in national intrigue, in diplomacy, and in 
 naval and military affairs ; frauds in senate-chambers 
 and in law tribunals, in elections and in appointments ;
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 183 
 
 frauds by word and by oath, in buying and selling, but it is additionally accursed with the temptations 
 in giving and receiving ; frauds by weight, and frauds that take advantage of this physical feebleness. Con- 
 by measure, and frauds" by adulteration, and increasing sidering, then, this sandy-haired composition, this 
 frauds in every imaginable shape and form that may nervous combustibility, this superabundance of sexual 
 escape the penalty of crime I heat from a deficiency in physical exertion, and this 
 
 But it may be said that a majority of such persons extraordinary exposure to the wiles of the wicked, and 
 are not true Christians. Well, if they are not, let us the insinuative influences of unsuspicion, the marvel, 
 go among the reverend clergy they, if any, are surely ', nay, the miracle is not that so many, but so few of the 
 of the right stamp; nearly all of them have sworn or clergy fall into the sins of sensuality. The wonder 
 solemnly declared that they have been called moved ' is, not that so many yield, but that so many stand 
 by the " Holy Ghost " to preach the Gospel. Then firm ! ! 
 
 what of the priests ? Alas ! with all their spiritual en- " While we regard a sudden trip into sensual sin aa 
 dowmente, they have proved to be but frail and falli- comparatively the most excusable of the obliquities 
 ble men ; and though there are many excellent persons of which the clergy can be guilty, we certainly advise 
 among them, yet, as a class, in proportion to their '< all those who are thus guilty, or feel themselves in 
 numbers, it may be said that they excel all others in ! danger of being, to quit the pulpit at once and for- 
 seusuality ; and so notorious have they become in ever. And let none go to the sacred office who are 
 this respect that one can scarcely read a newspaper not strong in the flesh as in the Lord, and let the 
 that does not bear a record of their vileness. To avoid physically feeble who are in it leave it, lest a worse 
 scanda.1, much is connived at, and many of the clerical fate comes upon them. Divine grace will not make 
 culprits permitted to escape where others would be ; amends for physical infirmities. 
 
 held accountable ; yet so heinous have been some of "And so far from these clerical sins of sensuality be 
 ing the inexplicable lapses they are represented to be 
 by the public press and private Grundys, they are not 
 
 their crimes that the law has had to take its course, 
 and felon priests are now paying the penalty in prisons 
 and penitentiaries, and even the scaffold itself has 
 often had to close a career of clerical infamy. The 
 latest case of the kind at present remembered is that 
 of the liev. Mr. Hardin, a Methodist minister, who, 
 for the sake of a paramour, murdered his wife in New- 
 Jersey a few years since and was hanged for the crime.* 
 Indeed, of late so frequent ana scandalous have 
 been priestly amours that the secular press in many 
 places has been forced to notice the fact and to issue 
 
 a warning to over-pious and confiding females ; and in I fnent. Nor is there any explanation to be offered for 
 consequence of the caution thus given against the that terrible species of the genus sensuality, of which 
 wiles of the ordained servants of the Lord, the | several clergymen in this country recently iiave been 
 P'//j)i(, for November, 1867, a religious magazine, \found gyilft/, and which shall be nameless here. Such 
 makes the " 
 
 only the least surprising, but the most excusable sine 
 the clergy can commit / But we do not excuse, we 
 explain them. We are giving their comparative and 
 not their actual criminality. 
 
 "As for seduction, that is a crime than which nouo 
 is more heinous, infernal, and damnable, let who 
 will commit it. The man who is convicted, deserves 
 every twinge of the torture to which he can be sub 
 jected by the retributive laws of the divine govern' 
 
 'or November, 1867, a religious magazine, \found guilty, and which .shall be ut 
 c following extraordinary comments in pallia- offenses are very peculiarly odiou 
 
 ing exi 
 tiou of clerical fallibility : 
 
 A CURIOUS ARGUMENT TOR A RELIGIOUS MAGAZINE. 
 
 " We infer from what we hear in private conversa 
 tion, and what we read in the public journals, that the 
 public think it very marvelous that so many of the 
 
 s and abhorrent in 
 
 view of tlu- fact that sensual gratification is possible 
 without adding more than one to the number of the 
 debauched. 
 
 "Let all these putrid brethren be cut off and put away. 
 and let there be a vigorous endeavor to lift tue stand 
 ard of clerical purity in the above as well as in every 
 other respect ; but let it also be remembered that the 
 
 clwgy are wrecked upon the rock of sensuality. The | steadfastness of the clergy is a matter of amazement, 
 astonishment is not astonishing. People who do not I when the considerations we have named are taken 
 make a habit of thinking will hardly be thoughtful into the account." 
 
 ug _ 
 
 enough lo know the fact in reference to this matter. 
 The feet is, there is no profession, class, or avocation 
 so exposed to or tempted by the devil of sensuality as 
 tlie. ministry. The very sanctity of their office is an 
 occasion of their stumbling. The office is confounded 
 with its occupant. The sanctity of the former is 
 made the possession of the latter. Now, the office is 
 an invulnerable myth ; its occupant is a man of like 
 passions with other men. No temptation is sufficient 
 to overcome the other office, while so stout-faithed 
 an occupant of it as Peter the apostle may fall 
 grievously at the first approach of the adversary. 
 Unthinking women may seem to be only tempting 
 the office, when they are unwittingly laying snares for 
 the occupant. By their persistent exhibition of con 
 fidence in the office, they are confiding persistently in 
 its occupant. And so it comes to pass in this way 
 that the minister, with all his flesh and blood about 
 him, has the door of temptation thrown open to him 
 and then closed behind him. Blind confidence on 
 the one side, and unguarded sociability on the other, 
 lead to equivocal circumstances as to both. No man 
 in the world has so few conditions imposed upon 
 him at the threshold of society as the clergyman. 
 His passport to society is almost a carte blanche. 
 Women of both states and all ages are his com 
 panions, socially and professionally. The rules of 
 social intercommunion between the sexes are, in this 
 case, virtually suspended. What would be indiscre 
 tion with other men, is a matter of course with him. 
 He shares or is alternately admitted to the privacy of 
 the sick-room with the physician. 
 
 " Whenever spiritual advice is called for, there he 
 reigns alone and unmolested. And he is a sedentary 
 man, of nervous, sanguine temperament, and, like all 
 men of this sort and life, feels the law of his flesh 
 warring against the law of hi* religion. None have 
 euch passions as those of sedentary life. In propor 
 tion to the idleness of the muscles is the activity of 
 the passions. The devil tempts the industrious ; idle 
 men tempt the devil. The clergy should give more 
 earnest heed to ' muscular Christianity.' But not only 
 Is their life afflicted with deficiency in bodily exercise, 
 
 * Between the years 1860 and 1862. four Protestant 
 priests were hung for murder in the United States. 
 
 Not only does the church in many cases try to 
 screen the foibles of its clergy, but with genuine 
 craftiness it can connive at or mildly reprove the sina 
 of certain of its members in good standing that is, 
 good paying members. 
 
 Neal Dow, during his recent visit to England, gave 
 evidence in corroboration of this ; in one of his lec 
 tures he said : 
 
 " I was to be received at a great tea-meeting in 
 Edinburgh. In the afternoon before, one of the magis 
 trates took me in his carriage for a ride around tliat 
 ancient town. As we rode up the famous Canougate, 
 he stopped. ' This,' said he ' is the house of John 
 Kuox, very much as he left it. It is now the property 
 of the church of the Kev. Mr. , one ol the lead 
 ing Presbyterian churches in this city. The upper 
 stories are occupied as dwellings, and the ground- 
 floor as a low and vile grog-shop, the rents going into 
 the church treasury. 1 A little further on, he said, 
 ' There is a gro^-shop, kept by a son of an eminent 
 Scotch doctor of divinity of this city. The capital 
 furnished by the father, of whose church the son ia a 
 prominent member.' 
 
 " Further on he said, ' Look at that shop ; it is one 
 of the vilest in Edinburgh, and is kept by the leading 
 elder of the leading Presbyterian church in the city. 
 A little while ago he was convicted before the police 
 court and fined for harboring thieves and prostitutes; 
 but his standing in the church has not been compro 
 mised in the slightest degree. Shortly after, he present 
 ed to the church for the pulpit, a splendid Bible and 
 hymn-book, which are now used there.' Many other 
 similar places were pointed out to me, kept by church- 
 members in good standing, one of whom had taken 
 from a poor ragged woman, in exchange for a pint of 
 
 fin, a pair of shoes stripped from the feet of one ol 
 er children." 
 
 Other evidence might be added, but this from Neal 
 Dow ought to be sufficient for the present. Were in 
 fidels to countenance and profit by such infamy, what 
 poisoned shafts the priests would gladly hurl against 
 them ; priests will vilify them any way ; but, were it 
 not for the reproaches of infidels and spmtualists. these 
 abuses might be more generally tolerated by the pious ; 
 and, were it not for the efforts of reasoning skeptics, 
 Britain might not even at the present day ue able to
 
 184 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 boast of its temperance organization. The infldel has 
 brought reform to the Christian church ; extirpate 
 him with his advanced ideas, and intolerance will be 
 followed by increased hypocrisy, and orthodox morals 
 may become again so degenerate that Christian peo 
 ple may be glad to copy the more honest and upright 
 conduct of pagan nations. 
 
 The Rev. Dr. Burt, who visited Egypt in 1867, states 
 that, though nearly all the Egytian boatmen and at 
 tendants along the Nile were wretchedly poor, and 
 though they had ample opportunity to pilfer, yet he 
 asserts that not an article of the slightest value was 
 ever missed by himself or by any of his companions. 
 
 A writer, giving an account of a heathen people 
 says : " Take the Japanese as a whole, high and low, 
 rich and poor, they are the best fed, best clad, best 
 lodged, least over-worked, and most genial and happy 
 people on the face of the earth. Food is abundant 
 and cheap, imaginary wants rare, and thus tempta 
 tions to crime are less than with us, though the land 
 is no Utopia. 
 
 " There is no such thing as squalor to be seen in 
 Japan. In the houses of the very poorest, a Fifth 
 avenue belle might sit upon the matted floor -without 
 Boiling her dress. The streets are admirably sewered ; 
 all offal and garbage are removed for manure. 
 
 " There is no bigotry. The people are wonderfully 
 open-minded. There is no hatred of Christianity as 
 such ; only it is feared as an engine to cause political 
 changes." 
 
 What Christian state can boast of so much worldly 
 happiness t 
 
 NOTE I. 
 
 THE very dreadful deed the sudden murder of his 
 son which Doctor Buster is represented to have com 
 mitted, is far exceeded in cruelty by the deliberate 
 and fiendish act of an ordained servant of the Lord, 
 the Rev. Joel Lindsley, a Presbyterian minister near 
 the village of Medina, m the State of New- York, in the 
 United States of America. In June, 1866, this clerical 
 monster cruelly tortured to death his little son only 
 three years old because the child would not say his 
 prayers ! The fearful account of the murder is truly 
 one of the most revolting ever brought to public no 
 tice, as the following extracts from American papers 
 will sufficiently show : 
 
 A REVOLTING AND OUTRAGEOUS CRIME. A CLERGY 
 MAN WHIPS HIS CHILD TO DEATH 1 
 
 The Rochester Union, of Thursday, gives the follow 
 ing particulars of one of the most revolting and out 
 rageous crimes we ever read. It almost staggers belief. 
 That a father a clergyman should deliberately whip 
 his little son to death for refusing to say his prayers, 
 is one of the most remarkable as it is revolting of 
 crimes. Boston Sunday Herald. 
 
 " We learn from railroad men who came from Medi 
 na this morning that there was a great excitement 
 in that village arising from a report that a Presbyterian 
 clergyman, named Lindsley, residing a mile south of 
 the village, yesterday whipped his son, three years 
 old, so severely that he died two hours afterward, be 
 cause he would not say his prayers. Report adds, that 
 the child's fingers were broken by the blows adminis 
 tered. The report seemed so monstrous and unnatu 
 ral, that we telegraphed to Medina to learu if it was 
 true, and received an answer that it was. 
 
 " The telegraph states that the minister was two 
 hours whipping the child with a heavy rod, and it died 
 within the time stated above. Lindsley had not been 
 arrested at the time the dispatch was sent, but we 
 learn that an officer from Albion has gone to Medina 
 to take him into custody. For the sake of common 
 humanity, we hope the story is exaggerated, and it may 
 be possible that it is. 
 
 "Since writing the above, we have received by spe 
 cial telegraph the statement of Mr. Lindsley, the fath 
 er of the child, made to a jury summoned by Coroner 
 Chamberlain : ' On the 18th of June, the child disobey 
 ed his step-mother, and I commenced correct ing him, 
 using a shingle for the purpose, and continued to 
 chastise him lor more than two hours, when the child 
 began to show signs of debility : and I ceast-d to pun 
 ish him, and laid him on a couch and called my wife. 
 When she saw the child, she said he was dying, and 
 before twelve o'clock he was dead.' The coroner's 
 jury returned a verdict yesterday, that death resulted 
 from chastisement by the father.' " 
 
 THE MEDINA MONSTER! 
 
 The following, from the Rochester (N. Y.) Urdon, 
 gives further particulars of the miDister-tnonstei 
 near that city, who whipped his child to cifath for not 
 saying his prayers. Boston pa]*r. 
 
 " The account of the whipping to death of a child 
 three years old by its father, a clergyman, because it 
 would not say its prayers, near Medina, awakened the 
 greatest indignation of our citizens against the inhu 
 man father. The report was hardly credited, so un 
 natural and monstrous was the crime committed. \Va 
 blush to say it, but the most sickening and dreadful 
 part of the unparalleled horror was not published. 
 
 "Liudsley's (that's the monster's name) statement 
 before the coroner's jury was corroborated by other 
 witnesses before the jury. The body of the child told 
 more plainly and pathetically than words could of the 
 terrible punishment it had undergone. Several of its 
 fingers were broken, and the blood had oozed from 
 every pore. To conceal the crime, the father tied the 
 little one's hands behind its back and placed it in its 
 coffin. While physicians were making a post-mortem 
 examination of the body, he sat by, coolly looking at 
 the proceedings. After a while he spoke, and asKed 
 them if they had not carried ' this thing about far 
 enough ?' The physicians discovered no disease about 
 the child ; it died solely from excessive and cruel pun 
 ishment. The little one would have been three years 
 old next August whipped to death because it would 
 not say its prayers. 
 
 " We are told that Lindsley justified his horrid 
 work ! He thinks it was his duty to punish the child 
 until his will was broken and he obeyed. Lindsley 
 was arrested and committed to jail in Albion. It was 
 with the utmost difficulty that the officers who had 
 him in charge could keep the citizens of Medina and 
 neighborhood from lynching the murderer on the spot. 
 Lindsley is a man about five feet eight inches in 
 height, well proportioned, has black whiskers, and 
 dark complexion. He has the apperaance of a man 
 of violent temper." 
 
 A telegram announces that Rev. Joel Lindsley, who 
 beat his child to death, was released from custody on 
 giving bail in the sum of $10,000. Journal. 
 
 A CLERGYMAN CONVICTED. 
 
 The Rev. Joel Lindsley, like the Rev. Mr. Babin, has 
 been on trial charged with murder, but the result has 
 been less fortunate for him than that of the Aylmer 
 trial for the Canadian clergyman. Lindsley. who was 
 tried at Albion, N. Y., was accused of whipping his 
 little son to death, and the jury finding him guilty of 
 manslaughter, he was sentenced to be imprisoned in 
 the state prison for four years and a half. A thrill of 
 horror went through the court-room as the physicians 
 testified as to the condition of the child's body as seen 
 by them after it was laid in the coffin. One witness 
 swore that the boy must have received several hundred 
 blows ; that the body was covered with black and blue 
 marks, the skin broken in many places, the nails of the 
 hands and feet torn up at the sides, and even the soles 
 of the feet and the backs of the hands laid bare in pla 
 ces. Lindsley acknowledged that he had alternately 
 beaten and " reasoned with " the child for two hours, 
 when, observing a change, he laid him on his bed. 
 The poor mother cr ed out, " Why, Johnny's dying 1'' 
 On this, the father took him from the bed, and the boy 
 diod in his arms. Leader. 
 
 THE LINDSLKY WHIPPING CASE. 
 
 This is a case of great peculiarity. No one, taking 
 a natural view of the matter, can for a moment sup 
 pose that this father intended to kill his own child. 
 If premeditation is an ingredient of murder, Lindsley 
 is not a murderer. 
 
 Heretofore, we are informed, this clergyman has 
 sustained a spotless reputation, and was considered an 
 inoffensive man ; therefore, we can not class him with 
 those depraved wretches whose evil deeds are a terror 
 to the community in which they live. Nor can we 
 suppose he was so inflamed by anger toward a little 
 child, three years of age, that he deliberately pounded 
 it to death. 
 
 Mr. Lindsley has probably been a man of austere 
 piety a piety that Is intolerant to the opinions of 
 others and uncompromising in its dealings with the 
 world. There are thousands of such persons in the 
 country ; they are men of impracticable minds, who 
 claim that they should "do right though the heavens 
 fall," and they are unwilling that any thing should bo 
 considered "right" unless they indorse it. This was 
 a peculiarity of the early settlers of New-England,
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 185 
 
 who pierced holes through people's tongues, and 
 hanged them on the gallows, and banished them from 
 the country, all in the name of their austere ortho 
 doxy. 
 
 These peculiarities of religion are mostly the fault 
 of education. Men are so impressed with the "duty " 
 they owe to God, that they commit the greatest outra 
 ges" against humanity in the name of their Creator. 
 Such religion is worse than no religion at all. 
 
 But thus has it been from the foundation of the 
 world, not only with the Christian religion, but in all 
 forms of idolatry. How many victims have suffered 
 because of their intolerant spirit ! 
 
 This man who has killed his child is to be pitied as 
 well as condemned.^ He is to be pitied because he is 
 so narrow-minded and full of bigotry as not to be able 
 to understand the diviue truths of the Master whom 
 he professes to serve. 
 
 lie is condemned, before trial, by all classes of the 
 community even by those who, some of them, are as 
 bigoted as he is, and by disciples of Jesus who pro 
 fess charity for all men. While we all must cry out 
 against this frightful cruelty, let us speak a word 
 a./:<inst those false systems of religion that permit the 
 beating of the life out of a tender child. 
 
 The above is from the Orleans (N. Y.) Republican, 
 and it gives as good a defense of Lindsley as probably 
 can be given. But it is nonsense to say that he is not 
 a "depraved wretch," when he could beat a little child 
 two hours, even if he did not mean to kill it. Such 
 cruelty is the best evidence of depravity. Boston pa 
 per. 
 
 NOTE J. 
 
 THE persecution and forcible confinement in an asy 
 lum of Doctor Busters wife, on account of her liberal 
 opinions, is not such a picture as may be merely drawn 
 from the imagination ; like other charges made in this 
 work against priestly characters, it can be sustained 
 even too well by actual fact. 
 
 The case of Mrs. E. P. W. Packard, of the State of 
 Illinois, one of the United States of America, affords 
 a <_ r ood illustration. She was the wife of a minister of 
 the Gospel, "in good standing; " her religious ideas 
 were too liberal for the cramped orthodoxy of Tier 
 ti^utt-d husband ; she not only believed in. but ac- 
 t-.ally taught, Universalism; and for this alone she was 
 harassed and persecuted by her reverend tyrant ; and 
 at last was forcibly imprisoned for a long time in an 
 insane hospital. 
 
 The following letter from Judge Boardman will ex 
 plain more fully : 
 
 To ail persons iclio would desire to give sympathy and en 
 couragement to a most worthy but persecuted woman ; 
 
 The undersigned, formerly from the State of Ver 
 mont, now an old resident of the State of Illinois, 
 would most respectfully aud fraternally certify and re 
 present : 
 
 That he has been formerly and for many years asso 
 ciated with the legal profession in Illinois, and is well 
 known in the north-eastern part of said State ; that in 
 the duties of his profession, and in the offices he has 
 died, he has frequently investigated, judicially and 
 otherwise, cases of insanity; that he has given con 
 siderable attention to medical jurisprudence, and has 
 studied some of the best authors on the subject of in 
 sanity ; has paid great attention to the principles and 
 philosophy of mind; aud therefore would say, with 
 ail due modesty, that he verily believes himself quali 
 fied to give an opinion entitled to respectful considera 
 tion ou the question of the sanity or insanity of any 
 person with whom he may be acquainted. 
 
 That he is acquainted with Mrs. E. P. W. Packard, 
 and verily believes he- not only sane, but that she is a 
 person of very superior endowments of mind and un 
 derstanding, naturally possessing an exceedingly well- 
 balanced organization, which no doubt prevented her 
 becoming insane under the persecution, incarceration, 
 and treatment she has received ; that Mrs. Packard 
 has been the victim of religious bigotry, purely so, 
 without a single circumstance to alleviate the dark 
 ness of the transaction a case worthy of the palmiest 
 days of the Inquisition. 
 
 The question may be asked. How this could happen, 
 especially in Northern Illinois? To which I answer: 
 Tl.at the common law prevails here the saint' as in 
 other States where this law has not been modified or 
 set aside by the statute laws, which gives the legal 
 custody of the wife's person into the hands of her 
 husband ; and therefore, a wife can only be relieved 
 from oppression, or even from imprisonment, by her 
 husband, by the legal complaint of herself, or some 
 
 one In her behalf, before the proper judicial anthori- 
 ties. and a hearing and decision in the case, as was 
 finally had in Mrs. Packard's case; she having been in 
 the ftrst place taken by force, by her husband, and 
 sent to the insane hospital, without any opportunity 
 to make complaint, and without any hearinir or Inves 
 tigation. But how could the superintendent of th 
 insane hospital be a party to so great a wron^ '! Very 
 easily answered, without necessarily Impeaching his 
 honesty, when we consider that her alleged insanity 
 was on religious subjects. Her husband, a minister 
 of good standing in his denomination, and the super 
 intendent, sympathizing with him, in all probability, 
 in religious devotions and belief, supposed, of course, 
 that she was insane. She was legally sent to him by 
 the authority of her husband as insane. Mrs Packard 
 had taught doctrines similar to the Unitarians, Uni- 
 versalists, and many radical preachers, and which di 
 rectly oppose the doctrines her husband taught and the 
 doctrines of the churah to which he and Mrs. Packard 
 belonged. The argument was, that, of course, the 
 woman must be crazy; and as she persisted iu her 
 liberal sentiments, the superintendent persisted in 
 considering that she was insane 1 However, whether 
 moral blame should attach to the superintendent and 
 trustees of the insane hospital or not for this transac 
 tion, other than prejudice and learned ignorance, it is 
 quite certain that the laws, perhaps in all the States, 
 iu relation to the insane and their confinement and 
 treatment, have been much abused by the artful and 
 cunning, who have incarcerated their relatives for the 
 purpose of getting hold of property, or for differences 
 of opinion as to a future state of existence or reli 
 gious belief. 
 
 The undersigned would further state, that the pub 
 lished account of Mrs. Packard's trial on the question 
 of her sanity is, no doubt, perfectly reliable and cor 
 rect ; that the judge before whom she was tried is a 
 man of learning, ability, and high standing in the 
 judicial circuit in which he presides; that Mrs. Pack 
 ard is a person of strict integrity and truthfulness, 
 whose character is above reproach ; that a history of 
 her case, after her trial, was published in the daily 
 papers of Chicago, and in the newspapers generally 
 in the State, arousing at the time a public feeling of 
 indignation against the author of her persecution, and 
 sympathy for her; that nothing has transpired since 
 to overthrow or set aside this verdict of popular opin 
 ion; that it is highly probable that the proceedings iu 
 this case, so far as the officers of tne State hospital for 
 the insane are concerned, will undergo a rigid investi 
 gation by the Legislature of this State. 
 
 The undersigned understands that Mrs. Packard does 
 not ask pecuniary charity, but that sympathy and fra 
 ternal assistance which may aid her to obtain and make 
 her own living, she having been left by her husband 
 without any means or property whatever. 
 
 All which is most fraternally and confidently sub 
 mitted to your kind consideration. 
 
 WILLIAM A. BOARDMAN. 
 
 WAUKEGAN, ILLINOIS, Dec. 3, 1864. 
 
 NOTE K. 
 
 DISTRESS IN EUROPE SUFFERING IN LONDON AND 
 FRANCE. 
 
 THE London Examiner says of the distress among 
 the poor at the East End in London : 
 
 "The most populous quarter of the metropolis is 
 craving for food, and Civis UritanrdcMt has to fallback 
 on public and private charity for the means of keeping 
 body and soul together. It is deplorable to find suca 
 a state of things coexistent with and contiguous to an 
 accumulation of wealth such as was never aggregated 
 before within the same space. A world of coined gold 
 In thebanks and a world of skilled labor in the hovels, 
 and no employment for either the one or the other- 
 Midas and Misery in perilous proximity. Let us not 
 be unjust, however, to Midas. The gold which he can 
 not use to profit for himself he gives with an unstint 
 ing hand to save his poor neighbors from starvation. 
 The mischief is, that the demands of poverty rise with 
 the supply of charity. -Craving want pursues willing 
 wealth as the shadow follows the substance. Th 
 willingness of wealth teaches want to crave; and 1 
 this lies the great danger of the situation. 1 ' 
 
 The London Daily Aews says : 
 
 " Every winter the dry and rocky bed of human raise- 
 ry in this rich man's country becomes a torrent aud 
 almost an Inundation of distress. Instantly aud inva 
 riably society sets itself to work in an irregular and be 
 wildered fashion to arrest by dikes and drains this d
 
 186 APPENDIX. 
 
 thousands of pounds are distributed by checks, to the " Compared with savages, Christians have only been 
 great relief and satisfaction r* the charitable donors, better in degree. In the Sandwich Islands cannibalism 
 to all sorts of committees am. jsts of secretaries and used to be sinful only when the victims were Sandwich 
 collectors. Nothing was ever comparable to the or- Islanders. An Englishman or a New-Zealauder could 
 gamzation and abundance of British charity. But be eaten and relished with impunity. We have stop- 
 where does all the money go to ? Still the cry of want ped short of the eating ; but there is little else we have 
 nses up, and the torrent overflows, and men, and not deemed excusable when our victim has been of a 
 women, and children starve and are forgotten, and race or of a religion different from ourselves The 
 still the checks are poured in. Then comes the ever- doctrine of nationality, misapplied as it has been mis- 
 
 men of business, of colossal industry and enterprise, eloquent as Chatham did in Ins last great speech de- 
 
 of obscure but enormous opulence, of arriving at some pictmg the awful sinfuluess of a war with our breth- 
 
 tolerably direct and effective system of charitable as- ren. When Chatham delivered that memorable ora- 
 
 eistance and relief ? There is no other country in the tion, our subsidized Indians were scalpiti" our French 
 
 world that professes, as England does, to find bread enemies on the banks of the Mississippi Tu hundreds 
 
 for every man who is willing to work, yet leaves him- and the pitch-cap and triangles were in the hands of 
 
 men, for the most part, and church or chapel-goers, with men of the same race as ourselves, and the con- 
 And among them all there has been one Peabody ; and science of England is shocked at, the prospect it never 
 he is not an English, but an American, philanthropist." occurs to Englishmen to question whether there was 
 
 Returns up to the present year (1869) go to prove that not just as much moral guilt in rushin" to the slau<*h- 
 pauperism in England is on the increase by five per j ter of Muscovites in the Crimea, and in blowing rebel 
 cent annually. The total number of paupers in Great j Sepoys into fragments from the mouths of our cannon 
 Britain being now over a million- another "triumph" as there would be in carrying into Charleston harbor 
 for the reverend Princes of Exeter Hall. : an iron-clad full of the horrors of war 
 
 Advices from various parts of France speak of the ! " What has this false idea of nationality produced 
 great misery of the poorer classes. The Avenir Ifa- through the long ages during which it has been held ? 
 uonal says that the accounts from the north, centre, i Need we travel through history from Persians and 
 and south are deplorable. The general disquiet occa- ! Greeks, to Greeks and Romans, and then to Romans 
 eioned by the uncertainty of the government policy, and Carthaginians, and point to the blood which was 
 
 s ? le< J and *S sufferings which were endured in the 
 
 greatly increasing; that the guards at the townhouse which has 
 
 are doubled, and a squad of sergents-de-ville stationed 
 before the gate, "round which a famished crowd ga 
 thers." At Lille, Auxerre, Limoges, and other towns, 
 the charitable boards (Bureaux cle Bieufaisance) have 
 
 this country and Ireland. An Englishman, until a very 
 recent period, has looked upon an Irishman much in 
 the same way as a savage looked upon his captive as 
 a fit subject for torture and death ; an Irishman has 
 
 been obliged to adopt "exceptional measures" to naturally regarded his persecutor as a victim for re- 
 maintam tranquillity. In Paris, the boards of public | venge. No matter what happened, there were few 
 relief have received nearly 400,000f. from the Minister \ qualms of conscience on either side. Things have 
 of the Interior, and even this hardly suffices. M. de j been done to an Irishman which done to an American 
 Girardin pertinently asks whether such a state of would have sent a thrill of horror through the land, 
 things is not a supreme warning to Europe that it has i and done no longer since than the days of our grand- 
 
 gangrene sets in and amputation after it, who but a 
 madman would hesitate ?" 
 In other countries of Christian Europe the terrible 
 
 has made nations ; the enemy of Heaven uses them, 
 and will continue to use them while we continue to 
 believe that the commandment to love our neighbors 
 
 details of poverty and suffering among the masses are.] simply means that we are to love those of the same 
 most lamentable. religion and the same race, and that all others may be 
 
 ; hated, and hunted, and made stepping-stones to what 
 
 TJOTF T (- men call glory. When nations are only different that 
 
 they may display the beauty of union, no Chatham of 
 
 IT is a pleasure to find that the idea advanced in this tne future shall rise in the British Commons, valk of 
 Tolnme against Nationality has already occurred to tne horrors of war with our brethren, and IH- silent 
 others. The following article from the Northern about the sin of slaying those who are not of our race; 
 Press, as published in the London Public Opinion and no one sna11 enforce the special duty of keeping 
 9f March 21st, 1808. is sufficiently clear on that sub- peace with those who speak our language without be- 
 Ject : Ing equally earnest in protecting from destruction 
 
 1 NATIONALITY. those who adopt a different tongue ; the world shall be 
 
 one great nation with God as us ruler, and injustice 
 
 "Throughout all our history, an Englishman has 
 
 shalfbe injustice wherever perpetrated."
 
 FROM NOTICES OF THE PRESS AND CORRESPONDENTS ON "EXETER HALl." 
 
 " The plot and passion In ' Exeter Hall ' show an 
 experienced hand in their delineation. We shall 
 be happy to read either a sermon on the failure of 
 Christianity, or any other theological nut that the 
 author wishes to erack, or a pure work of fiction ; 
 because 'Exeter Hall' proves that the author has 
 something to say, and knows how to say it." From 
 Public Opinion, London, England. 
 
 " After a careful and candid perusal of this work, 
 we are constrained to admit, that it is one of the 
 ablest and most dangerous opponents of the creed 
 of Christendom and the divine inspiration of the 
 Scriptures that has ever been laid on our table. 
 There are, however, we are satisfied, those who will 
 not be inclined to stop here, but who will assert 
 boldly, that, for excellence of conception, strength 
 of argument, harmonious sequences, sound logic, 
 keen analysis, profound research, admirable humor, 
 and, withal, deep pathos, ' Exeter Hall ' has no rival 
 in its peculiar field." Watson'' s Art Journal, New 
 York. 
 
 "The author propounds on the title-page the 
 rather comprehensive question, <Whi>t is truth?' 
 He will scarcely expect us to say, that he has satis 
 factorily and completely answered this query; but 
 we may and do say. that he has introduced much 
 theological, philosophical, sensational, and other 
 Information, which we cordially commend to those 
 who may have the time and patience to devote to 
 his great and closely printed work. It is indeed a 
 wonderfu. book." Neu. York Eueniiiy Mull. 
 
 "So striking and effective an exposition of the 
 inconsistencies, follies, dogmatism, puerilities, and 
 general mischievousness of theology as this book 
 eels forth must produce a profound impression 
 wherever read, and lead on other readers innu 
 merable to be enlightened and impressed by its 
 first eflcct. We commend it to the widest popular 
 
 approval, for the sake of its singular merits." 
 Banner of Light, Boston. 
 
 "The liberal public ought to give 'Exeter Hall' 
 a very extensive circulation ; for it well deserves that 
 honor. A better devised book to secure the object 
 in view the development of the practical effects of 
 religious fanaticism, as seen ha the family and in 
 society has not appeared for many years. Nor ia 
 it merely theoretical ; for its arguments are based 
 upon the iron ' logic of events,' as found recorded in 
 the annals of courts and prisons, and in the actuali 
 ties of every day life : therefore it Is a book whose 
 influence cannot fail to be healthy, because founded 
 in truth." Boston Investigator. 
 
 " This novel is one of the most exciting romances 
 of the day in its peculiar line. It deals with some of 
 the most startling phases of religious excitement, 
 and makes curious disclosures of the motives which 
 oontrol the apostles of modern fanaticism." Demo- 
 resVs Magazine, New York. 
 
 " The book is well and powerfully written. Our 
 many friends will find 'Exeter Hall' an interesting 
 book, a book they will rejoice to see put before the 
 public, and one which will be useful, as something 
 they can purchase and lend their friends, whose 
 orthodoxy we will not guarantee after they shall 
 have digested but half its contents." The Liberal, 
 Chicago. 
 
 " We have no hesitation In declaring this a great 
 work, great in design, great in scope, great in 
 execution. It names things in plain English which 
 have too long been mentioned only in the stiff and 
 formal dialect of the pulpit. It grasps tenets 
 and ideas with a bare and bold hand, which hav 
 too long been handled with sectarian gloves. W 
 consider it a book that no one need fear to read. . . i 
 The interest of the plot holds the attention of th 
 reader to the end." The Universe, Chicago.
 
 "The humane and charitable tendencies of the 
 book must receive the approbation of every friend 
 of humanity ; and the enlightened and progressive 
 legislation of the future may not improbably em 
 body some of the author's suggestions in reference 
 to the land monopoly and pauperism, which form 
 two of the most social evils of the mother country." 
 Daily Telegraph, Toronto, Canada. 
 
 " In the story, the life-like portrayal of religious 
 character, and the truthful illustration of the mis 
 chievous tendency of religion, as well as the beautiful 
 picture of domestic happiness where the teachings 
 of Nature had been substituted for the dogmas of 
 theology, cannot fail to make the work doubly inter 
 esting. ... I wish a copy of ' Exeter Hall ' could be 
 put into the hands of every intelligent person in the 
 United States." D. F. Underwood, in the Investi 
 gator. 
 
 " It treats on matters of which I have had a life 
 long experience; and the pictures are all of them 
 most truthfully drawn. It is called a romance; but 
 it is the romance of truth. Truth is stranger than 
 fiction. It is a book for the million; and it should 
 have an extensive circulation." La Roy Sunder- 
 land, in the Liberal. 
 
 " A veritable destroyer is upon them (the priests}; 
 and no description of opposition or petty manoeuv 
 ring can stay his course. His thunderbolts are forged 
 on the very same anvil that they use in the moulding 
 of their superstitions ; and, in dealing with them, he 
 subjects them to their own racks and thuinb-s'crews. 
 The truth is, 'Exeter Hall' is, in my opinion, the 
 ablest work written from an infidel point of view 
 since the days of Paine; and, as such, it cannot but 
 create Intense commotion and alarm among the 
 churches." A New York Correspondent in the ^Bos 
 ton Investigator. 
 
 " No book has ever appeared of a liberal or pro 
 gressive character so effective and deadly a foe to 
 old theology as this work, so deep and thorough in 
 its research, so profound in its knowledge of the 
 sects of the day, so biting and keen in its sarcasm, 
 and so beautiful in its tender, delicate, and pathetic 
 appeals. Its plot is developed and wrought up with 
 masterly effect, sufficient to gratify the most sensa 
 tional appetite; with incidents, founded on facts, 
 which must make the ears of the reverend doctors of 
 divinity tingle when they hear of it. The time has. 
 fully come when hard knocks must be laid on, thick 
 and fast, and with vigor, too, even to the destruction 
 of falsehood's most sacred propagandists." Boton 
 Correspondent, Investigator.
 
 305 De Ne v r Dn Ve %ar k 1 n L a L ! BRARY FACILITY 
 
 j^^S^S^ 
 
 -^^1^^ 
 
 Fo.
 
 McDonnell 
 
 2356 Exeter Hall 
 
 1885 
 
 iiiii 
 
 000025238 7 
 
 PS 
 
 2356 
 
 1885