"And now," continued Dr. Beaumont, "my good friend, for such I know you are, even in this attempt to change my principles, though my coat has been worn too long, and is of too stubborn stuff to cut into the new shape, tell me the name of my successor, that I may remember him in my prayers. For trust me, he, and all those who supplant the episcopal clergy, will have an arduous duty to fulfil. The eyes of Europe will be turned upon them. They have made a vast vacuity, and it will require no common portion of ability, no ordinary supply of graces, to fill the mighty void. Popery has long looked to our church for the most potent soldiers. See that ye be able to maintain the Protestant cause as effectually, and serve God as well with your labours and your lives."
Mr. Barton too well recollected Dr. Beaumont's remarks, on the covert avidity of praise, which was too marked a feature of the separatists, to use any of those phrases of humble sound, but arrogant purport, which he had just heard so properly rebuked. He thanked Dr. Beaumont for his promised intercession, in behalf of himself and his evangelical brethren; frankly acknowledging their situation would be arduous. "As to your immediate successor," said he, "I trust you will not find him, a 'barren fig-tree,' but one in 'whom faith worketh by love;' though, peradventure, his face is not shaped in exact conformity to your notions of a religious aspect, and his mode of study may have led him to doubt, where you are certain, and to deem that perspicuous, in which you see difficulties." The controversialists parted with mutual good-will.
Dr. Beaumont had already taken every precaution to fortify and prepare his family for the trial which awaited them. He had forcibly pointed out the defective patience of those, who, though submissive and composed under corrections, which proceeded immediately from the hand of God; such as sickness, loss of friends by death, or any misfortunes arising from unpropitious seasons, or other accidents; are querulous and rebellious, when the same Sovereign Disposer of events corrects them through the intervention of their enemies. Pride, envy, hatred, ingratitude, selfishness, and treachery, are evils permitted against others; as well as plagues and offences in those who cherish them. Like pain, or decrepitude, hurricanes or drought, poverty or death, they prove, and purify the servants of God. The wrath of man has an allowed limit, which it can no more pass, than the raging ocean can the rocks by which it is bounded. And, if under the trial of moral evil, we behave wisely, charitably, and devoutly, we shall often find that even fraud and envy will produce some temporal advantages. Strangers have frequently stretched out their hands to help those whom friends and kindred have oppressed and abandoned. The world is ever disposed to look kindly on persons suffering wrong, provided they are not vehement in their resentments, and disposed to assist themselves by honest industry and wise measures. The cruelty of a tyrant has sometimes introduced superior desert to conspicuous notice; and at the worst, there is an inward peace, "which passeth understanding," that the oppressor never can enjoy, nor can he deprive the victim of his hatred from partaking of it. This is that peace of God which we forfeit, only by displeasing Him.
Nor did he deem adversity and poverty useless situations to others. The wish of the powerless is recorded, the intercessive prayer of the indigent is offered to God by the Mediator, who observed and blessed the scanty donation of the poor widow. Those angels, who wait around His throne, serve the Most High, as acceptably as they who fly on his messages. It was owing to too inordinate a love of the praise of men, that people generally feared to spend their lives in a condition, where no one thought their actions worth attending to.—We like the text, "Let your light shine before men;" but we recoil from that which bids us be content with the approbation "of Him who seeth in secret." These commands were intended for different stations, one suited the affluent, the other the needy, and they were, beside, limitations and comments on each other, teaching us neither to contemn praise, nor to pursue it too ardently. He spoke much of the passive virtues, patience, returning good for evil (which the most indigent might do by remembering their enemies in their prayers), self-denial, self-examination, and aspirations after a better world. Few, he said, were in a state so destitute, as not to be able to render some service to their fellow-creatures; but all might serve God. While we possessed the inestimable gift of reason, we had ample cause to bless Him, even if we were poor, old, lame, blind, or helpless; and from such a disfigured censor, how grateful would the incense of praise ascend to our Creator's courts?
He desired Mrs. Mellicent to moderate the asperity with which she spoke and acted towards the triumphant party. He told her he had fixed his determination to return to Ribblesdale, the scene of his pastoral charge, from which he thought himself not lawfully exonerated, and where his presence might be of some service, at least as an example. But as he could only gain permission to continue there, by preserving the most quiet demeanour, she must now, from regard to his safety, (if from no better motive) avoid execrating the round-heads. He gently hinted too, that, since they must now appear in a very different capacity to what they had formerly done, a more condescending carriage, and less sharp austerity, would better conceal them from the exultation of their enemies.
He intreated Constantia, (whose silent anxiety for Eustace had paled the roses on her cheek) to think of the various miseries which had overwhelmed the nation, and to bear her portion with fortitude. Many great families had seen all their promising branches cut off. Many had to lament worse than the death of their offspring, namely, their treachery, and hopeless wickedness. To have preserved all his family around him, and only to have lost his fortune, would have been, in these times, a too rare felicity. Many profligates were neglected in their education, and of such, small hope of reformation could be formed. But if Eustace were alive, the good seed had been sown in his heart, and he could not but hope, that he would at last, if not even till the eleventh hour, be found labouring in the vineyard.
Isabel needed little admonition. She had joined with the family in the devout services in which Dr. Beaumount had exercised them, to strengthen their fortitude and arm them with Christian graces. She rose from her knees, patient, cheerful, full of resources, and ready to engage in the task of active duty. She anticipated a return to harder toils and privations, than those to which she had submitted in early life; but she felt equal to her expected trial. She rejoiced in the capability of her vigorous constitution, firm health, and unbroken spirits. She could read to the Doctor—clear-starch Mrs. Mellicent's pinners—nurse Constantia—cook for the family—take in plain-work—teach school—in short do every thing to make them comfortable, and find her own comfort in so doing.
Barton parted with the Beaumonts with deep regret. He had stretched his interest to the utmost to procure permission for the Doctor to reside at Ribblesdale, and to recover a fifth of the sequestered living for his support. He did not, however, like many friends, rest satisfied with exerting his interest. His purse was also open to their wants, and his first instance of kindness was furnishing them with a supply for their long journey. His next was giving to Dr. Beaumont a sealed bond, with an injunction not to open it till the next quarter-day. In it he covenanted to pay him regularly half the profits of his canonry as long as he enjoyed it, and to diminish a sense of obligation, he required the Doctor to return him another bond, subjecting himself to a similar division, in case a change of times should cause another revolution of incumbents. The delicacy of this proceeding, at a time so peculiarly unfavourable to the hopes of Loyalists, tended much to assist the Doctor's endeavours of making his family charitably disposed, and even Mrs. Mellicent went so far as to lament that Barton was not a churchman.
[ [1]] Such was the case of Dr. Morley, Bishop of Winchester, who was accidentally met and relieved by Sir Christopher Yelverton, and for many years sheltered in his mansion.