CHAPTER VIII.

Some Of The Practical Effects Of His Views.

It is high time that we should turn from the abstract consideration of Mr. Spencer's views, and test their efficiency by the great standard of good and evil--facts. The facts, bearing upon our subject, which the Journal gives up to this period of his life, the close of 1826, and beginning of the next year, may be summed up in few words. One old woman was the only one of whom he could say, "she seems fully established in religion;" and it is remarkable that this very person, Mrs. Wykes, became a Catholic later on. All the rest were in different stages of fermentation; some "hopeful," some "promising," some "ripening unto light," and so forth: they ripen more and more according to the number of his visits; but if it should happen that they did not need material help from him, they very soon got back to their old way again, and poor Mr. Spencer used to return, after his day's apostleship, much humiliated at his want of success. In fact, his missionary work was a perfect representation of Protestant missions to the heathen. He distributed Bibles and blankets, prayer-books and porridge, and three of his best and most hopeful proselytes went mad, and were sent to the county lunatic asylum. Of himself, he tells us that he used to spend from two to three hours daily in godly contemplation. Of this he began to get tired after some time, and gives the following extraordinary notions of his interior state:--

"Sep. 2. I was employed chiefly in reading Gr. Testament; but I find myself very far yet from that state of real activity of mind which I ought to gain. I wish for such experience in Christ as not to need spiritual exercises as constantly as I now do to keep up communion with God, and so have more time for active labour."

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"Sep. 12. I went to Nobottle at 12 and returned at 3. I called in every house except Chapman's, and, alas! I found _not one soul_ over whom I could rejoice as a true child of God. Yet there are signs of hope in a few. What an awful scene it would be if I had eyes to see it, or how great is my deliverance, who, though not less deserving perdition than any, am yet planted in the House of God, and rejoice through Christ in the hope of His glory."

He begins the new year, 1827, with the following:--

"I have found my mind so far from settled that I never saw myself more in need of God's grace. But I shall find it."

Strange prophecy; he was determined never to rest content until he could feel right with regard to God and his salvation, and it is needless to say that he was far from this, notwithstanding his great Calvinistic assurance.

Every new Dissenting minister that comes into his parish, he makes it his business to call upon and see if they could not unite their respective flocks, even by compromising differences. He sometimes comes home flushed with hope, and then, when he tries to persuade his fellow-clergymen of the Establishment to make advances to Methodists or Baptists, their coldness brings his hopes to nought. Nothing disheartened, he comes to the charge again, and is buoyed up, the whole time, by the hope of one day or other seeing his beloved people in one fold, under the care of one shepherd.

He removes in the middle of this year to the house he built for himself at Great Brington, and he learns the pleasures of housekeeping in a few weeks by the difficulties he encounters in the management of servants. The rest of the year, until towards October, goes on rather calmly; no incident of importance occurs except the preaching of his Visitation Sermon. The Bishop of Peterborough, Dr. Marsh, comes to make his diocesan visitation in Northampton, and the Honble. and Rev. Mr. Spencer is asked to preach before him. He does so very nervously, and although he introduces one passage into that sermon indicative of his peculiar views, the Bishop was so pleased with it, {150} that he ordered him to print it. It was printed accordingly, and Mr. Spencer sent copies to all the friends he could remember; he even sent some across the Atlantic to old schoolfellows. Between thanks for the reception of this favour, and mutual acknowledgments of esteem and regard, with compliments and returns of the same, an interval is given him to prepare for another storm on the score of his opinions.

The second volume of his diary concludes with some distressing discussions and family animadversions on his ways of thinking. It sounds rather strange in Catholic ears that lay people should deem themselves qualified to lecture a clergyman on what he ought to believe and teach; it ought not, if he remembers that we are speaking of a land of private judgment, where every one is qualified to think and dictate to his neighbour. The friends take their arguments now from a different point. Mr. Spencer had built his new rectory and gone to live there; the architect had done his part so well, that he would sometimes come off the coach, when passing near Brington, so that he might have another look at this specimen of material comfort. It was furnished, too, in a befitting style, for George went even to London, and took counsel with his mother and others on what things were proper and best suited for a parsonage. The best upholsterers were made to contribute from their stock of cupboards, beds, mattresses, chairs, and tables, and when the van arrived at Brington, there were several connoisseur female relatives invited to give their opinions on the colouring and papering of the rooms, the hanging and folds of the window curtains, and the patterns of the carpets. All was finally arranged to the satisfaction of all parties, and only one thing was wanting,--"the partner of his joys," or troubles, as they would be now, poor man.

Bright ideas struck his friends about this time. It was thought, in very high and intellectual circles, that if the young rector of Brington were married, he would settle down quietly in the snug parsonage, and make metaphysical ideas give way to the realities of life. This they concluded was the short road to his settlement, and he himself used {151} often to tell how long arguments on religious views often ended with, "Well, George, get yourself a wife, and settle down like your neighbours, and all these dreams will vanish." To their surprise, however, they found the young rector as difficult of persuasion in this point as in his other notions; but experience gave them the advantage over him here, and they were determined not to be foiled. The want of a house to bring the bride to, was thought to be the sole objection heretofore, and perhaps it was; that was now removed. Suggestions to that effect reach him in letters from his friends about this time. The following is a specimen:--

"It is probable that I shall return to Brington for the winter. If N *** or N *** succeeds in a matrimonial alliance on your account, I hope you will speedily let me know; perhaps an insinuating advertisement in the _Morning Post_ might be useful to you. Joking apart, I shall be most happy when the time comes for wishing you joy."

Insinuations and arguments did not avail, so they had recourse to stratagem. One would not like to suspect that the Bishop of Chester was let into the secret, though he ought to be a capital hand at such things, as he had the hymeneal knot twice tied upon himself. However that may be, the plot was laid, hatched, and the eggs broken as follows:--Towards the end of October, 1827, he accompanied Dr. Blomfield on a visitation through the diocese of Chester. He was taken a little out of his way in order to preach in a church near Warrington. The rector of this place asked him specially;--what was his surprise to find his "old flame," Miss A ***, as mentioned in a former chapter, there ready prepared to be one of his listeners. He walked with her to church, and was delighted with her company; he used to say he never preached, whilst a minister, with greater satisfaction than on that day. Coming home from church he had to hear out compliments about his preaching, and he spent the evening with a clerical party--one was a clergyman who was about being married to the sister of Mr. Spencer's favourite. It was thought everything would come round then, and that some kind of arrangement would be made for the future; but Mr. Spencer, though pleased, {152} was not anywise romantic, nor apt to put his head into a halter from which it would not be so easy to draw it back. It was well, however, that he was pleased, and he evinces as much himself in his Journal, when he says:

"Sunday, Oct. 21. I begin this volume with one of the most interesting Sundays I have ever spent. After breakfast with Mr. ***'s family, we went to church about half a mile from the house, where I preached the first sermon which it has been given me to preach in this diocese; and I am pleased that it should be in this church and before N *** N *** among other hearers, with whom I now converse as pleasingly as in former times, but on higher subjects. With her and her sister I walked home, and again to evening service, where I read prayers and Mr. *** preached."

But this argument met the fate of all that had been spent on him for the last three years. It seemed all settled as far as he was concerned; for there was no doubt on the other side. He got into his carriage to drive up to Althorp, and ask his father's consent. When near the door, he called to the driver to stop, and turn to the rectory. He had just formed the resolution _never to marry_. It was not that he did not like the intended partner, it was an affair of long standing; but he remembered the words of St. Paul: "He that is unmarried careth for the things that belong to the Lord, how he may please the Lord: But he that is married careth for the things that are of the world, how he may please his wife" (1 Cor. vii. 32, 33, Prot. version). No one was ever able to shake this resolution, and the repeated attempts of others to do so only strengthened it the more. He often related this incident to us, and when asked, if he then thought of the Catholic priests, "Oh, I might, but I thought it was some superstitious motive that made them live single; I thought I made a new discovery myself;" he would reply.

A change takes places now in his finances. He was Always extremely charitable, and his housekeeper tells of his equipment, when going out to make his parish rounds, of a morning. He would carry a bottle of wine in his coat pocket, and as much money as he could possibly spare. {153} These he distributed among the sick and the poor. He used also to buy them medicines, and procure them clothes. Of course it was found soon that a very large income would not suffice for the liberality of the son, so Lord Spencer came to an arrangement with him. He allowed him a liberal yearly income; but George feels it rather hard, and complains of his straitened means in two or three places of his Journal. However, he set to make the best of it, and began by retrenchment from his own table. "By way of retrenchment, I have left off wine and puddings or tarts, and I have reduced my quantity of clean linen to wear." Ever himself, what he spared from his own table he brought to the poor. "We shall transcribe the simple account of this period of his life given us by Mrs. Wykes, who knew him from a child.

"His great charity to the poor and wandering beggars was unbounded. At times he gave them all the money he had, and stripped himself of his clothes to give them to the distressed; and when he had nothing to give, he would thank God he had only His holy truth to impart, and would speak of the love of God so fervently, that he would call forth tears from the poor objects of misery who came many miles to beg money or clothes of him. Many impostors presented themselves with the rest, but even those he thanked God for, and thought nothing of relieving them, as he said he lost nothing by them, but got a lesson of humility. Some poor afflicted mendicants would present themselves with loathsome sores, and these he would assist in dressing and try to cure. His house was always open for the distressed, and he often longed to make an hospital of it for the poor. He was all for gaining souls to God; he would often walk to Northampton to visit the lodging-houses, and most infamous dens of the dissolute, to speak to them of God's holy law and mercy to sinners. Indeed his whole time was devoted to doing good. He did not often allow himself the privilege of riding, but would walk to Northampton or further, carrying his clothes in a knapsack strapped over his shoulders, and would smile at the jeers and laughs against him, glorying in following out the practice of the Apostles. He fasted as well as he knew {154} how, much stricter than when he became a Catholic. In fact he allowed nothing to himself but plain living, and willingly granted better to others. He gave no trouble, but was always ready to wait upon others, and make them happy and comfortable. He was always ready to hear complaints, and turn everything into the goodness of God. He was indeed the father of the poor, and a peace-maker, though meeting with many contradictions, particularly among the Dissenters. He bore all with patience and cheerfulness, and went on hoping all would end well in due time."

The last _effect_ we shall record in this chapter is another passage from his Journal:--"Saturday, Nov. 17. To-day I called on Mr. Griffiths, Independent minister at Long Buckley, with whom I had one or two hours' conversation of a very interesting kind. I see clearly that all is not right with the Church." He means the Church of England, of course.

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