_ On his return to Cambridge in the May term of 1858, Ernest and a few
other friends who were also intended for orders came to the
conclusion that they must now take a more serious view of their
position. They therefore attended chapel more regularly than
hitherto, and held evening meetings of a somewhat furtive character,
at which they would study the New Testament. They even began to
commit the Epistles of St Paul to memory in the original Greek.
They got up Beveridge on the Thirty-nine Articles, and Pearson on
the Creed; in their hours of recreation they read More's "Mystery of
Godliness," which Ernest thought was charming, and Taylor's "Holy
Living and Dying," which also impressed him deeply, through what he
thought was the splendour of its language. They handed themselves
over to the guidance of Dean Alford's notes on the Greek Testament,
which made Ernest better understand what was meant by
"difficulties," but also made him feel how shallow and impotent were
the conclusions arrived at by German neologians, with whose works,
being innocent of German, he was not otherwise acquainted. Some of
the friends who joined him in these pursuits were Johnians, and the
meetings were often held within the walls of St John's.
I do not know how tidings of these furtive gatherings had reached
the Simeonites, but they must have come round to them in some way,
for they had not been continued many weeks before a circular was
sent to each of the young men who attended them, informing them that
the Rev. Gideon Hawke, a well-known London Evangelical preacher,
whose sermons were then much talked of, was about to visit his young
friend Badcock of St John's, and would be glad to say a few words to
any who might wish to hear them, in Badcock's rooms on a certain
evening in May.
Badcock was one of the most notorious of all the Simeonites. Not
only was he ugly, dirty, ill-dressed, bumptious, and in every way
objectionable, but he was deformed and waddled when he walked so
that he had won a nick-name which I can only reproduce by calling it
"Here's my back, and there's my back," because the lower parts of
his back emphasised themselves demonstratively as though about to
fly off in different directions like the two extreme notes in the
chord of the augmented sixth, with every step he took. It may be
guessed, therefore, that the receipt of the circular had for a
moment an almost paralysing effect on those to whom it was
addressed, owing to the astonishment which it occasioned them. It
certainly was a daring surprise, but like so many deformed people,
Badcock was forward and hard to check; he was a pushing fellow to
whom the present was just the opportunity he wanted for carrying war
into the enemy's quarters.
Ernest and his friends consulted. Moved by the feeling that as they
were now preparing to be clergymen they ought not to stand so
stiffly on social dignity as heretofore, and also perhaps by the
desire to have a good private view of a preacher who was then much
upon the lips of men, they decided to accept the invitation. When
the appointed time came they went with some confusion and self-
abasement to the rooms of this man, on whom they had looked down
hitherto as from an immeasurable height, and with whom nothing would
have made them believe a few weeks earlier that they could ever come
to be on speaking terms.
Mr Hawke was a very different-looking person from Badcock. He was
remarkably handsome, or rather would have been but for the thinness
of his lips, and a look of too great firmness and inflexibility.
His features were a good deal like those of Leonardo da Vinci;
moreover he was kempt, looked in vigorous health, and was of a ruddy
countenance. He was extremely courteous in his manner, and paid a
good deal of attention to Badcock, of whom he seemed to think
highly. Altogether our young friends were taken aback, and inclined
to think smaller beer of themselves and larger of Badcock than was
agreeable to the old Adam who was still alive within them. A few
well-known "Sims" from St John's and other colleges were present,
but not enough to swamp the Ernest set, as for the sake of brevity,
I will call them.
After a preliminary conversation in which there was nothing to
offend, the business of the evening began by Mr Hawke's standing up
at one end of the table, and saying "Let us pray." The Ernest set
did not like this, but they could not help themselves, so they knelt
down and repeated the Lord's Prayer and a few others after Mr Hawke,
who delivered them remarkably well. Then, when all had sat down, Mr
Hawke addressed them, speaking without notes and taking for his text
the words, "Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me?" Whether owing to
Mr Hawke's manner, which was impressive, or to his well-known
reputation for ability, or whether from the fact that each one of
the Ernest set knew that he had been more or less a persecutor of
the "Sims" and yet felt instinctively that the "Sims" were after all
much more like the early Christians than he was himself--at any rate
the text, familiar though it was, went home to the consciences of
Ernest and his friends as it had never yet done. If Mr Hawke had
stopped here he would have almost said enough; as he scanned the
faces turned towards him, and saw the impression he had made, he was
perhaps minded to bring his sermon to an end before beginning it,
but if so, he reconsidered himself and proceeded as follows. I give
the sermon in full, for it is a typical one, and will explain a
state of mind which in another generation or two will seem to stand
sadly in need of explanation.
"My young friends," said Mr Hawke, "I am persuaded there is not one
of you here who doubts the existence of a Personal God. If there
were, it is to him assuredly that I should first address myself.
Should I be mistaken in my belief that all here assembled accept the
existence of a God who is present amongst us though we see him not,
and whose eye is upon our most secret thoughts, let me implore the
doubter to confer with me in private before we part; I will then put
before him considerations through which God has been mercifully
pleased to reveal himself to me, so far as man can understand him,
and which I have found bring peace to the minds of others who have
doubted.
"I assume also that there is none who doubts but that this God,
after whose likeness we have been made, did in the course of time
have pity upon man's blindness, and assume our nature, taking flesh
and coming down and dwelling among us as a man indistinguishable
physically from ourselves. He who made the sun, moon and stars, the
world and all that therein is, came down from Heaven in the person
of his Son, with the express purpose of leading a scorned life, and
dying the most cruel, shameful death which fiendish ingenuity has
invented.
"While on earth he worked many miracles. He gave sight to the
blind, raised the dead to life, fed thousands with a few loaves and
fishes, and was seen to walk upon the waves, but at the end of his
appointed time he died, as was foredetermined, upon the cross, and
was buried by a few faithful friends. Those, however, who had put
him to death set a jealous watch over his tomb.
"There is no one, I feel sure, in this room who doubts any part of
the foregoing, but if there is, let me again pray him to confer with
me in private, and I doubt not that by the blessing of God his
doubts will cease.
"The next day but one after our Lord was buried, the tomb being
still jealously guarded by enemies, an angel was seen descending
from Heaven with glittering raiment and a countenance that shone
like fire. This glorious being rolled away the stone from the
grave, and our Lord himself came forth, risen from the dead.
"My young friends, this is no fanciful story like those of the
ancient deities, but a matter of plain history as certain as that
you and I are now here together. If there is one fact better
vouched for than another in the whole range of certainties it is the
Resurrection of Jesus Christ; nor is it less well assured that a few
weeks after he had risen from the dead, our Lord was seen by many
hundreds of men and women to rise amid a host of angels into the air
upon a heavenward journey till the clouds covered him and concealed
him from the sight of men.
"It may be said that the truth of these statements has been denied,
but what, let me ask you, has become of the questioners? Where are
they now? Do we see them or hear of them? Have they been able to
hold what little ground they made during the supineness of the last
century? Is there one of your fathers or mothers or friends who
does not see through them? Is there a single teacher or preacher in
this great University who has not examined what these men had to
say, and found it naught? Did you ever meet one of them, or do you
find any of their books securing the respectful attention of those
competent to judge concerning them? I think not; and I think also
you know as well as I do why it is that they have sunk back into the
abyss from which they for a time emerged: it is because after the
most careful and patient examination by the ablest and most judicial
minds of many countries, their arguments were found so untenable
that they themselves renounced them. They fled from the field
routed, dismayed, and suing for peace; nor have they again come to
the front in any civilised country.
"You know these things. Why, then, do I insist upon them? My dear
young friends, your own consciousness will have made the answer to
each one of you already; it is because, though you know so well that
these things did verily and indeed happen, you know also that you
have not realised them to yourselves as it was your duty to do, nor
heeded their momentous, awful import.
"And now let me go further. You all know that you will one day come
to die, or if not to die--for there are not wanting signs which make
me hope that the Lord may come again, while some of us now present
are alive--yet to be changed; for the trumpet shall sound, and the
dead shall be raised incorruptible, for this corruption must put on
incorruption, and this mortal put on immortality, and the saying
shall be brought to pass that is written, 'Death is swallowed up in
victory.'
"Do you, or do you not believe that you will one day stand before
the Judgement Seat of Christ? Do you, or do you not believe that
you will have to give an account for every idle word that you have
ever spoken? Do you, or do you not believe that you are called to
live, not according to the will of man, but according to the will of
that Christ who came down from Heaven out of love for you, who
suffered and died for you, who calls you to him, and yearns towards
you that you may take heed even in this your day--but who, if you
heed not, will also one day judge you, and with whom there is no
variableness nor shadow of turning?
"My dear young friends, strait is the gate, and narrow is the way
which leadeth to Eternal Life, and few there be that find it. Few,
few, few, for he who will not give up ALL for Christ's sake, has
given up nothing
"If you would live in the friendship of this world, if indeed you
are not prepared to give up everything you most fondly cherish,
should the Lord require it of you, then, I say, put the idea of
Christ deliberately on one side at once. Spit upon him, buffet him,
crucify him anew, do anything you like so long as you secure the
friendship of this world while it is still in your power to do so;
the pleasures of this brief life may not be worth paying for by the
torments of eternity, but they are something while they last. If,
on the other hand, you would live in the friendship of God, and be
among the number of those for whom Christ has not died in vain; if,
in a word, you value your eternal welfare, then give up the
friendship of this world; of a surety you must make your choice
between God and Mammon, for you cannot serve both.
"I put these considerations before you, if so homely a term may be
pardoned, as a plain matter of business. There is nothing low or
unworthy in this, as some lately have pretended, for all nature
shows us that there is nothing more acceptable to God than an
enlightened view of our own self-interest; never let anyone delude
you here; it is a simple question of fact; did certain things happen
or did they not? If they did happen, is it reasonable to suppose
that you will make yourselves and others more happy by one course of
conduct or by another?
"And now let me ask you what answer you have made to this question
hitherto? Whose friendship have you chosen? If, knowing what you
know, you have not yet begun to act according to the immensity of
the knowledge that is in you, then he who builds his house and lays
up his treasure on the edge of a crater of molten lava is a sane,
sensible person in comparison with yourselves. I say this as no
figure of speech or bugbear with which to frighten you, but as an
unvarnished unexaggerated statement which will be no more disputed
by yourselves than by me."
And now Mr Hawke, who up to this time had spoken with singular
quietness, changed his manner to one of greater warmth and continued
-
"Oh! my young friends turn, turn, turn, now while it is called to-
day--now from this hour, from this instant; stay not even to gird up
your loins; look not behind you for a second, but fly into the bosom
of that Christ who is to be found of all who seek him, and from that
fearful wrath of God which lieth in wait for those who know not the
things belonging to their peace. For the Son of Man cometh as a
thief in the night, and there is not one of us can tell but what
this day his soul may be required of him. If there is even one here
who has heeded me,"--and he let his eye fall for an instant upon
almost all his hearers, but especially on the Ernest set--"I shall
know that it was not for nothing that I felt the call of the Lord,
and heard as I thought a voice by night that bade me come hither
quickly, for there was a chosen vessel who had need of me."
Here Mr Hawke ended rather abruptly; his earnest manner, striking
countenance and excellent delivery had produced an effect greater
than the actual words I have given can convey to the reader; the
virtue lay in the man more than in what he said; as for the last few
mysterious words about his having heard a voice by night, their
effect was magical; there was not one who did not look down to the
ground, nor who in his heart did not half believe that he was the
chosen vessel on whose especial behalf God had sent Mr Hawke to
Cambridge. Even if this were not so, each one of them felt that he
was now for the first time in the actual presence of one who had had
a direct communication from the Almighty, and they were thus
suddenly brought a hundredfold nearer to the New Testament miracles.
They were amazed, not to say scared, and as though by tacit consent
they gathered together, thanked Mr Hawke for his sermon, said good-
night in a humble deferential manner to Badcock and the other
Simeonites, and left the room together. They had heard nothing but
what they had been hearing all their lives; how was it, then, that
they were so dumbfoundered by it? I suppose partly because they had
lately begun to think more seriously, and were in a fit state to be
impressed, partly from the greater directness with which each felt
himself addressed, through the sermon being delivered in a room, and
partly to the logical consistency, freedom from exaggeration, and
profound air of conviction with which Mr Hawke had spoken. His
simplicity and obvious earnestness had impressed them even before he
had alluded to his special mission, but this clenched everything,
and the words "Lord, is it I?" were upon the hearts of each as they
walked pensively home through moonlit courts and cloisters.
I do not know what passed among the Simeonites after the Ernest set
had left them, but they would have been more than mortal if they had
not been a good deal elated with the results of the evening. Why,
one of Ernest's friends was in the University eleven, and he had
actually been in Badcock's rooms and had slunk off on saying good-
night as meekly as any of them. It was no small thing to have
scored a success like this. _