A VISIT TO THE RECTORY.
We reached the rectory early in the afternoon, and found the venerable rector waiting our arrival. There was, in the manner and style of our reception, a fine blending of dignity with kind and benevolent feeling. In his person he was tall and slender, about sixty years of age; his silver locks fell in curls on his shoulders; in his countenance there was a marked expression of benignity; and his whole appearance was in keeping with his sacred profession. Mrs. Ingleby was equally free and easy in her manners, but she was rather reserved; yet it was the reserve of constitutional timidity—hauteur was alien to her nature. After tarrying awhile, examining his cabinet of natural curiosities, selected and arranged with taste and judgment, we adjourned to the moss-house at the bottom of the garden, which he had, with his own hand, constructed and adorned. It stood on an eminence, which commanded a varied and extensive view, while the trees and shrubs which grew around screened us from the observation of others. The sun, which had been pouring down his scorching beams during the greater part of the day, was now gradually descending the western horizon, gilding the heavens and the earth with his rays. The birds were warbling their evening songs of praise to the Author of their being; the bees were pressing into their hives with the collected stores of the day; the plaintive voice of the turtle-dove fell softly on our ear, which, intermingling with the occasional cawing of the rooks, returning to their young with the fruits of their toil, gave to the evening a charm which the crowded haunts of fashionable life never possessed.
As we sat, enjoying the interchange of sacred thought and feeling, almost forgetting that we were inhabitants of a world which had fallen from an original state of purity and bliss, I observed an interesting-looking stranger advancing towards us; and was informed that it was the Rev. Mr. Guion, of whom I had previously heard.
Mr. Guion apologized for not being punctual, and informed us that the fall of his horse was the cause of it. He was welcomed by the whole party, and congratulated on his having sustained no injury. Mrs. Ingleby, of course, presided at the tea-table; she was elegantly polite, yet so affable that we felt at perfect ease; and every one appeared to enjoy the desultory chit-chat, which was kept up with great spirit. At length, when the tea-drinking ceremony was over, conversation commenced, according to our uniform custom, and, to the astonishment of all, Mrs. Ingleby led off; yet I think it was more by accident than design.
"Strange events happen in the history of life; but I have been thinking, while attending to the ceremonies of the table, that if an old prophet of Israel had been with us when we took our first cup of tea in this moss-house, and if he had predicted that we should live to see the present company with us, I should have doubted it."
"Our presence, Madam," said Mr. Stevens, "may be attributed to the moral power of the Christian ministry; that ministry being the instrument in the hands of the Spirit of God, by which he effects moral wonders."
"I had no idea," said Mr. Guion, "when I was going to hear the visitation sermon at Salisbury, that I should come into contact with any other power than the rhapsodies of evangelical enthusiasm. Several of us were highly amused in anticipation of witnessing some strange outbursts of fanatical sentiment and feeling, uttered in some grotesque terms of enunciation. But my venerable friend had not proceeded far in his discourse before I felt compelled to listen with profound attention; what he said was new to me, it went to my heart; I was not able, nor yet inclined, to resist the wisdom and the spirit by which he spake."