Mr. Guion was now ushered into the parlour, accompanied by Mrs. Stevens; the ceremony of introduction was soon over, and the parties very soon began to be acquainted. After some desultory conversation, the Rev. Mr. Roscoe (addressing himself to Mr. Guion) said, "I had the honour of making the acquaintance of two ladies, who are, I believe, members of your cure, the Misses Brownjohn. I met them at Buxton last autumn; I hope they are quite well."
"They are, I believe, very well; but just now they are involved in a vexatious perplexity."
"Nothing very painful, I hope."
Why, the case is this; they had a nephew who left England for the East Indies when they were little girls. No tidings were heard of him for many years; but about twelve months ago, intelligence of his death arrived, and he died, it appears, without a will, and very wealthy. There have been a few claimants to his property, but the two ladies in question are judged by many to be the next of kin, and they have commenced proceedings; but there is a mortifying hitch in the progress of their suit, for, on searching the parish register, there is no record either of their birth or their baptism."
"These old records used to be kept in a most shameful way. I don't wonder to hear of their vexatious perplexity."
"It is a little amusing to see how differently the two ladies are affected by this unlucky discovery. Miss Dorothy is in high dudgeon, because the non-production of the document arrests her progress towards the possession of a large fortune. But Miss Susan is most affected, by its cutting her off from the prospect of going to heaven, believing, as she does, that no other than baptismal regeneration is necessary or even possible; but now, for want of a fair copy of her registration, she has no legitimate proof that she is born again, even though she has a faint recollection of her godfather and godmother."
"What course of procedure do they intend to adopt to obviate the evils resulting from the non-registration of these two events—birth and baptism?"
"Miss Dorothy has employed a very clever solicitor, who is drawing up her case to lay before counsel, caring but little about her baptism if she can succeed in getting at the money; while Miss Susan cares nought about the money in comparison with her spiritual birth. She thinks that her confirmation, which she distinctly remembers, and the trouble she has often been put to by the week's preparation for the sacrament of the Lord's Supper, will all prove of no avail, for want of this fair copy of her registration. She has called into requisition the official aid of the bishop's secretary, to lay her case before his lordship; and with her the point of vexatious perplexity is, who shall now regenerate her, to fit her for heaven, if she can't prove that the thing has been done. She won't let me do it, because I am an evangelical; and she fears the bishop won't give his sanction to its being done by a clergyman with whom she sustains no ecclesiastical relationship. However, she has made up her mind on this point, so I hear, that if the bishop thinks it is necessary she should be baptized, and if he won't give his sanction for her to go into another parish to be born again, she will break up her establishment, and become a parishioner at Aston, and then the Rev. Mr. Cole will do the thing properly."
"This case of Miss Susan Brownjohn," said Mrs. John Roscoe, addressing her husband, "upsets, according to my thinking, your doctrine of baptismal regeneration; for it is monstrous to imagine that the Almighty will make a person's fitness for heaven depend on the fidelity of a parish registrar, who is often a stupid fellow, and sometimes more partial to his cups than to doing his duties."
With this half-grave and half-comic remark the colloquy ended, and the party separated, some going one way and some another, but all in a very good humour.