The reading, the singing, and the prayer accorded with the general tone of feeling which a select congregation usually enjoy; and though young Lewellin conducted himself with the greatest degree of decorum, yet it was not till after the text was announced that he appeared interested in the service. The preacher was a young man, of a correct taste, strong intellectual powers, and bold and animated address; but the subject which he had chosen for discussion was more adapted to establish the Christian in his faith, than reclaim the sinner from the error of his ways. The text was taken from 1st Corinthians, vi. 17: He that is joined unto the Lord is one spirit. There were no flights of lofty imagination in the composition of the discourse; no powerful appeals to the conscience; no master-strokes of argument, levelled against either the root or branches of infidelity; no terrific enunciations of the Divine displeasure; but a calm and spiritual explanation and defence of the doctrine of our union with Jesus Christ. The service was concluded without having produced any visible effects on Lewellin, who walked away with his mother, and the only remark he made was, "I never heard such a sermon before." She knew not how to interpret the meaning of this ambiguous expression, and made no reply, lest, by coming in contact with his deistical opinions, she should be incapable of persuading him to accompany her at a future time. On entering the parlour, he took a candle and retired to his own room, which gave his mother a private opportunity of imploring the blessing of Heaven on the service of the evening. After waiting a considerable time, she began to feel uneasy, and went to the bottom of the stairs to listen; but on hearing his footsteps as he paced his chamber, she resumed her seat. An hour had now elapsed since she had seen him; the ambulating motion was no longer heard, her fears were strongly excited, and being unable to suppress them, she stole up softly to his door, and listening a while with breathless anxiety, she heard, or thought she heard, an indistinct sound; she then looked through the keyhole of the door, and lo! he was on his knees in prayer. Had she seen visions of God, she might have been more awed, but she could not have been more delighted. She wept as she descended the stairs, but they were such tears as sorrow never sheds. Her heart was full, and she gave vent to her enraptured feeling at the footstool of His throne who had caused grace to abound where sin had been reigning nigh unto death.
At supper her son appeared very sedate, absorbed in deep thought; yet there was a serenity in his countenance, and an ease in his manner, which bespoke the composure of his mind. "I think," said his mother, "that the discourse we heard this evening placed the happiness and security of the Christian on such a firm basis, that we might have concluded the service by singing the beautiful lines of Toplady:—
'Yes, I to the end shall endure,
As sure as the earnest is given,
More happy, but not more secure,
The glorified spirits in heaven.'"
"You might have sung these words, because you are a Christian, but how could I have responded to them?"
"I hope, my dear George, you liked the sermon."
"I never heard such a sermon; at least I never heard a sermon which produced such an effect on my mind. I could have listened till midnight. I felt what I never felt before."
Yes! that night he felt the power of "changing grace," and the change produced in his opinions, taste, and habits, soon became conspicuous; and while it excited the ridicule of some, the gratitude of others, and the astonishment of all, it was as a witness raised from the dead to give a fresh testimony to the divine origin of the truth which had been the means of effecting it. He who had been a bold blasphemer, now became a man of prayer; the intoxicating cup was exchanged for the wine of the kingdom; the Sabbath was hallowed as a day of rest; and the amusements and dissipations of the world were forsaken for the more refined enjoyments of devotion.
As soon as his health was re-established, he began to prepare for his return to his situation in London; and though he recoiled from the prospect of being compelled to associate with his former companions, yet he indulged the hope of being able to reclaim them from the destructive paths of sin. He wrote to his friend, Mr. Jordan, with whom he lodged when he first went to London, to inform him of the change which had taken place, and to request permission to become once more an inmate in his pious family. To this letter he received a very encouraging reply; and the following week was fixed on for his departure.
But he could not consent to leave the place where he had passed from death to life—from the miseries of one world to the sublime anticipations of another—till he had borne a public testimony of his gratitude to the Redeemer, by receiving the memorials of his death. He waited on the faithful minister who had been employed as the angel of mercy to his soul, to express his desire; and on the following Sabbath, with his honoured parent, he sat down at the Lord's table, thus making a public profession of the faith which he once scornfully rejected.
The morning after his return to London he went to the office, and on entering every one arose to offer his congratulations; but Mr. Gordon exceeded all in the ardour of his expressions. "This," said he, "is one of the happiest days of my life, and I adore the fate which has decreed that death shall lose a victim to restore me my friend."