OR, THE CHRISTIAN'S ARMORY. No. 8.] JANUARY, 1806. [VOL. I. FURTHER ACCOUNT OF THEOPHILUS. You have complied with my, wishes, by publishing the account of my visit to Theophilus.. In the persuasion that every important occurrence in the life of such a character, cannot fail to afford instruction and entertainment to many of your readers, I now send you some further anecdotes respecting him. Let me first, however, premise, that the flattering hopes which we entertained of his recovery were not disappointed; in a few days after the dispatch of my former narrative, we had the satisfaction to see him restored to our prayers in perfect health. The news of a national victory would scarcely have diffused more joy in the little circle of his friends and admirers. When Theophilus succeeded to the estate which he now enjoys, he found a living attached to it, in the possession of a clergyman, who was beloved by his parishioners, and generally esteemed for his piety and benevolence. The opinion Vol. I. No. 8. TT entertained of him did not ex- At this period, the religious attainments of Theophilus were of a standard little superior to what mine were when I lately entered his house. In the course of his education at school and the university, he had gone through the usual routine of religious instruction, but the seed was sown among thorns, and the pleasures of this world, "the deceitfulness of riches, and the lusts of other things entering in, had choked the word, and it had become unfruitful." He attended, indeed, the service of the church with considerable regularity, but rather for the sake of shewing an example of decent conformity than from conviction, or an anxiety to improve. An affecting occurrence which happened a bout six months after he had taken possession of his estate, gave a new and profitable turn to his thoughts and views. The wife of the rector, and mother of four children, died, after an illness of only a few days: Theophilus had too much feeling and humanity not to be deeply affected at this event, and he only waited, according to the established etiquette, until the funeral had taken place, to offer his personal condolence to his friend. Judge of his surprise, when, on the Sabbath following the death of the lady, and the day after her interment, he saw therector enter the church, with a depressed but composed countenance, and with a firm but submissive voice heard him perform his ministerial functrons. The discourse which he addressed to his congregation, naturally had a reference to his own situation; it was pathetic, solemn, and impressive: one passage in it, which was committed to writing at the time, with tolerable accuracy, by a sensible parishioner, has been communicated to me, and was nearly in the following terms. "You see me, my brethren, with the characters of grief upon my countenance; they are deeply engraven in my heart. To lose a wife, an amiable beloved wife, the tender mother and kind protector of four dear children, is no trivial sorrow; but I should be ashamed to appear before you, if, upon this trying affliction, I were to belie the doctrines which I have taught. I sorrow, but not as one without hope; I know in whom I trust, and I feel his divine support on the present occasion; it is that alone which enables me thus to address you. Had I sought for consolation in that worldly wisdom, which men call philosophy, I should not have found it; I should have sunk under the calamity which has befallen me; but the gospel teaches me that the afflictions which Christians suffer here, while they are the deserved punishment of their sins, are also intended to purify their faith, and to prepare them for the enjoyment of that eternal happiness which Christ has purchased for them by his death. In all the dispensations of the Almighty, justice and mercy, where there is room for mercy, are ever united; nor are any of the afflictions to which a believer in Christ is exposed, without abundant sources of consolation. Such an one knows that whom God loveth he chasteneth; and while, therefore, he considers his sufferings as the effect of his sinfulness, and humbles himself under them; he regards them also as proofs of the love of his Creator, who is thus weaning him from earthly attachments. Feeling that "tribulation worketh patience, and patience experience, and experience hope," he says in his heart, it is good for me to be afflicted, and he resigns himself to the disposal of his heavenly Father, in the hope of eternal life through Christ, a hope which elevates him beyond the limits of the world and time. "When the Christian also calls to mind the sorrows and agonies of his dying Redeemer, and whilst he contemplates, with unutterable gratitude, the stupendous display of divine love, in the atoning sacrifice of the Son of God, then is his burden lightened, and his tongue instinctively exclaims in the language of inspiration" The Lord gave, the Lord hath taken away, blessed be the name of the Lord. "As for myself, why should I grieve? because the dear object of my earthly affection has entered into the joy of the Lord? for such is the blessed confidence with which her faith in him has inspired me. No, my dear friends, though I am deprived of a companion in whose society I enjoyed all the happiness, which this world can afford, though my children have lost a most affece tionate endearing parent, yet my sorrow is well nigh absorbed in the thought of the happiness which she now enjoys.. I derive support and consolation from the confidence I feel, that the Lord, in whom she trusted, has taken her to himself, and from the hope that through faith in him I shall again see her a purified saint, in the company of my ever blessed Redeemer." This was a scene to which few persons present had ever witness ed a parallel, and for which The, ophilus was wholly unprepared; his admiration was equal to his surprise; he knew the rector to possess more than a common share of sensibility, and that the warmest affection had ever sub, sisted between him and his wife. The style of the discourse, the tone and manner in which it was delivered, and the unimpeached integrity of the preacher, did not suffer him to entertain a doubt respecting the sincerity of his resignation, and he felt all the force of the example, although he then was by no means qualified to appreciate the value of the principles which had inspired it. Theophilus was too much affected by what he had seen and heard, to accost the rector after the services of the church were finished, but he visited him on the next day, and then, as well as in all his subsequent interviews, found his conversation and deportment in exact correspond ence with the doctrines which he publicly taught. The weight of such an example was hardly to be resisted by any mind susceptible of piety or sensibility; and Theophilus was led by it into a train of reflection, upon the power of that religion which could support human nature under the deepest calamity; and he justly concluded, that if it were founded on substantial evidence, the consolation which it inspired was no less rational than solid, He saw clearly that the topics of condolence and resignation, suggested by philosophy, were neither sound in principle nor efficient in practice, and that the frame of mind which they were calculated to produce was a sullen, rather than a rational acquiescence: whilst Christianity, on the con trary, inculcated submission with, out extinguishing feeling, and, by the views and hopes which it inspired, satisfied the reason whilst it alleviated the distress of the afflicted. He determined, therefore, to peruse the scrip tures with patient unprejudiced attention. Theophilus, with whom I have frequently conversed on the in teresting subject of the progress of his religious convictions, has confessed to me, that although he immediately discovered, in the code of revelation, a system of morality, equally pure, rational, and sublime, founded on the justest conceptions of the Supreme Being and the nature of man, and adapted to all people of every country and condition, it was long before he rightly understood, and cordially and practically embraced the fundamental and peculiar truths of Christianity; the ruin of the world by sin, its redemption by the atonement of a crucified Saviour, and the sanctifying influence of the Holy Spirit. The truth was, as he now acknowledges, that he depended too much upon himself, and had overlooked the necessity of prayer for the Divine assistance to enlighten his understand ing and purify his heart; hence it was that he perused the scriptures rather as a code of ethics than a revelation, which taught him the alienation of man from God, and the means of his reconciliation with his offended Maker and Judge. But the pious rector, with whom he now constantly associated, pointed out his errors, and taught him to renounce all dependence upon himself for spiritual improvement, and to trust in him alone who is the author of every good and perfect gift, soliciting his aid by fervent and frequent prayer. Theophilus most readily submitted to his instruction, and being by the divine grace gradually enabled to perceive the grand display of heav enly mercy in the redemption of man, embraced with ardour the gracious invitation of an Almighty Saviour. This worthy clergyman is now no more; he died about ten years ago, and Theophilus, who can scarcely mention his name without a tear, has since his death liberally maintained his children. They are placed under the care of a pious relation in another county; and Theophilus, who has undertaken to provide for their temporal welfare, has made a particular bequest in his will for this purpose, lest he should not himself survive to fulfil his engagement. Theophilus having deliberately adopted the religion of Jesus, determined, in humble dependence on divine support, to act up both to the letter and spirit of it. His first endeavour was to correct himself, and to bring his mind under subjection to the gospel ; and as he was sensible of the natural impetuosity of his temper, as well as of other irreligious propensities, he laboured incessantly to subdue them. The instruction of his family became an object of his early and serious attention; he was aware both of the obligation of performing this duty, and of the inhumanity of neglecting it. By degrees he extended his care to his dependants and neighbours, and his liberality, which was now under the direction of his piety, aided the influence of his exertions. His progress was opposed by many obstacles, but he was not deterred by them from perseverance. The obnoxious epithet of Methodist was applied to him, and his gay friends amused themselves with impotent and profane jokes upon his conversion. He had ignorance perpetually, and malice and ingratitude frequently, to contend with; but these impediments, instead of inducing him to relax his efforts, stimulated him to redouble them, and he had the happiness, in many instances, to lenge. find them crowned with success. might attend his refusal of a chalI shall not enlarge upon a subject which has been so amply detailed in my former narrative, and which describes Theophilus as he now is; but I have learned one anecdote, of his conduct, which so strongly marks his principles and good sense, that I sannot deny myself the pleasure of relating it. There never was a period in which it was more necessary to enforce the example which it inculcates. A short time before the death of his pious instructor, a recruiting party took up its quarters in a small town at no great distance from the residence of Theophilus. The commanding officer, a young man of family and fashion, had contrived a plan for seducing the daughter of a farmer, a tenant of Theophilus, who was apprised of the scheme just in time to prevent the ruin of the girl. On this occasion he wrote a letter of expostulation to the of ficer, which the other resented as an insult, and brutally challenged him. Theophilus declined the defiance without hesitation, and addressed a second letter of remonstrance and admonition to the officer, which produced an insulting and abusive reply. The report of this transaction was circulated much to the prejudice of my friend, and, as usually happens in such cases, with many circumstances which were wholly unfounded, and which remained for a time uncontradicted; for Theophilus, satisfied with having performed his duty, was silent on what had passed, from a principle of Christian forbearance to the officer who had insulted him, although he was, at the same time, fully aware of the consequences that About a fortnight after this occurrence, Theophilus was present at a numerous meeting of the gentlemen of the county, a few of whom had adopted strong prejudices against him on no other grounds than because the invariable rectitude of his conduct furnished a perpetual contrast to their irregularities. He remarked, what he had been prepared to expect, a cold formality and reserve in their reception of him, little short of incivility. After a moment's deliberation, he requested their attention, explained all the circumstances of the transaction, which had led to a correspondence with the officer, and addressed them in terms to the following purport: "I have been given to understand, what it would pain me much to believe, that my refusal of a challenge has depreciated my character in the estimation of some to whom I have the honour to speak. I know that, even by the laws of honour, I was not bound to meet my challenger; but I dare not take refuge from reproach in such a plea. No, gentlemen, I am called upon publicly to avow, that in declining the challenge sent to me, I acted from a superior motive, from obedience to the law of God, which admits of no compromise with the rules of honour. The Master whom I profess to serve, not only requires my obedience, but the avowal of my allegiance, and disclaims the hypocritical service of a disciple who is ashamed of the name of his Lord. I shall not expatiate on the absurdity, barbarity, and illegality of duelling to a believer in the doctrines of Chris |