From Death Into Life or, Twenty Years of My Ministry

by W. Haslam

In my architectural journeys I used to entertain, people with these wondrous subjects; and one evening I had the honour of agitating even the Bishop of Exeter himself, who, in his enthusiasm, bade me write a book, and dedicate it to him. I did so. "The Cross and the Serpent" is the title of it, and it was duly inscribed to his lordship.

It excites me even now to think about it, though it is thirty-five years since I made these discoveries. The old librarian at Oxford declared that I was mad, and yet he could not keep away from the subject, and he was never weary of hearing something more about it. This reverend Doctor said, "If you are right, then all the great antiquaries are wrong." I suggested that they had not had the advantage I possessed of placing their various theories side by side, or of making their observations from my point of view.

Notwithstanding all these external labours, which engrossed my earnest and deep attention, I did not neglect my parish. I felt, however, that my parishioners did not know anything about ecclesiastical antiquities or architectural science; and that they knew nothing, and cared less, about Church teaching. They did not believe, with me, that in order to be saved hereafter, they ought to be in the Church, and receive the Holy Communion—that there is no salvation out of the Church, and no Church without a Bishop. They were utterly careless about these things and from the first had been an unsympathetic and unteachable people. I feel sure that had it not been for other interesting occupations which engaged my mind, I should have been altogether discouraged with them.

I tried to stir them up to a zeal worthy of their ancestors, who were such good and loyal Churchmen, that King Charles the First wrote them a letter of Commendation, and commanded that it should be put up in all the churches. I had a copy of this letter well painted, framed, and placed in a conspicuous part of my church. Then I prepared an original sermon, which I preached, or rather read, to inaugurate the royal letter.

My text was taken from Heb. 12:22-24, "Ye are come unto Mount Sion, and unto the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to an innumerable company of angels, to the general assembly and church of the first-born, which are written in heaven, and to God the Judge of all, and to the spirits of just men made perfect, and to Jesus the mediator of the new covenant, and to the blood of sprinkling, that speaketh better things than that of Abel." I applied these words to the Church of England, and rather reproached the Cornish people for not being more loyal and scriptural!

I think I was more roused by my sermon than any one else; and no one asked me to print it, but I did for all that, with a copy of the king's letter. I am sorry to say that the public did not care sufficiently about it to buy copies enough even to pay for printing.

It fell very flat, but I attributed that to the degeneracy of the times, and of Cornish people in particular. The fact was, they understood that text far better than I did, and knew that "the Church of the first-born" was something more spiritual than I had any conception of.

From the commencement of my ministry I did not, as a general rule, preach my own sermons, but Newman's, which I abridged and simplified, for in that day I thought them most sound in doctrine, practical and full of good common sense. Indeed, as far as Church teaching went, they were, to my mind, perfect. They stated doctrines and drew manifest conclusions; but my people were not satisfied with them then; and I can see now, thank God! that, with all their excellences, they were utterly deficient in spiritual vitality.

Their author was one whom I personally admired very much, but by his own showing, in his "Apologia." he was a man who was searching not for God, but for a Church. At length, when he grasped the ideal of what a Church ought to be, he tried by the Oxford Tracts, especially No. XC, to raise the Church of England to his standard; and failing in that, he became dissatisfied, and went over to the Church of Rome.

Once, when I arrived at a friend's house in the Lake district, I was told that there was a most beautiful view of distant mountains to be seen from my window. In the morning I lifted the blind to look, but only saw an ordinary view of green fields, hedges, trees and a lake. There was nothing else whatever to be seen. In the course of the day, a heavy mist which had been hanging over the lake was dispersed, and then I saw the beautiful mountains which before had been so completely veiled that it was difficult to believe in their existence.