On their return from church, Mrs. John Roscoe said, "We have heard a very judicious and impressive sermon this morning. I was much pleased with the vigour and occasional elegance of Mr. Ingleby's style; but this was a source of gratification far inferior to the elevating sentiments which he delivered. I could have sat another hour with great pleasure, but not without coveting the feelings of a man who spake of the joys of heaven as one who had passed through all the necessary preparatory trials, and was living in the sweet anticipation of his final happiness."
"I was much struck," said Mrs. Roscoe, "at the size and listening attitude of the congregation. How audibly and impressively they uttered the responses. It was the sound of many voices, yet all in harmony; I saw no one gazing about, as though he were a stranger in a strange place, but every eye seemed fixed on Mr. Ingleby. I have been more pleased than I expected; and if this be a fair specimen of evangelical preaching, I shall feel no reluctance to go again."
This remark overpowered the feelings of Miss Roscoe, whose mind had been filled with anxiety respecting the issue of this first visit of her parents to the church in which she had so often listened with delight to the truths of revelation, and she could not refrain from shedding the tear of joy.
"Yes," said Mr. Roscoe, "the service was indeed interesting and impressive. The preacher displayed a spirit and a manner which became the place he occupied, and the responsibility of the sacred duties devolving on him. His mind was absorbed in his subject; and his principal aim was, by showing us our danger, and the resources of our safety, and by exhibiting before us the honours and felicities of the unseen world, so to awe and animate us, as to secure our devout and permanent attention to the momentous truths which he brought forward. I felt that the revelation of mercy was to him not a mere system of philosophical speculation, which, by exercising the reasoning faculties, improves the intellect without refining the moral sense; but that it was, what it professes to be, a restorative scheme of salvation, which, by renovating the heart, restores man to his long lost purity and bliss—deriving all its efficacy from the grace of Him by whom it was first announced."
"I never retired from a service," said Mrs. John Roscoe, "with such feelings as those that influenced my heart this morning; so dissatisfied with myself, and yet I know not why; I feel that I need something to solace my heart, and yet what that something can be I know not. I am, indeed, dear Sophia, in a state of almost overwhelming perplexity."
"Your observations, dear aunt, remind me of a passage in the history of the apostle Paul, who at one period of his life was in the same state of mental perplexity, which led him to say, 'When the commandment came, sin revived;' that is, when he felt the condemnatory application of the law of God to his conscience, he was in a tumult. Before this application was made, he thought that his heart was very good, but afterwards he felt himself a great sinner, and that he had within him many evil principles, which had been lying in such a dormant state, that he had no suspicion of their existence. The new discoveries which you are now making, and which occasion such painful perplexity, are preparing the way for other discoveries, which will soothe, and yield the sweetest consolation; and you will be led gradually onwards to a clear and comprehensive view of the grand theory of revealed truth; and then, like Paul, you 'will abound in hope, through the power of the Holy Ghost.'"
"I hope, my dear, it will be so; for I feel when associated, as I too long have been, with our Tractarian fallacies and delusions, such a craving of soul for some yet unknown spiritual helps and consolations, that I am painfully disquieted, and at times alarmed, lest I should be seized by death in my present state of unpreparedness for that solemn event. I hope, my dear, you and your papa will pray for me, for I now feel the need of the prayers of others. I know not how to pray myself. Forms are now useless to me, especially those I once used and admired, but never felt; I cannot use them now; and yet I know not how to pray to the Almighty without a written form."
"You will soon know, dear aunt."