upon him that he began to attend to his parish and care for the
souls of his people.
I also was beginning to see that I ought to care for the souls of my
people-at least, as much as I did for the services Of the Church. As a
priest, I had the power (so I thought) to give them absolution; and yet
none, alas! availed themselves of the opportunity. How could they have
forgiveness if they did not come to me? This absolution I believed to be
needful before coming to Holy Communion, and that it was, indeed, the
true preparation for that sacred ordinance. I used to speak privately to
the members of the Church Guild about this, and persuaded some of them
to come to me for confession and absolution: but I was restless, and
felt that I was doing good by stealth. Besides this, those whom I thus
absolved were not satisfied, for they said they could not rejoice in the
forgiveness of their sins as the Methodists did, or say that they were
pardoned. In this respect I was working upon most tender ground, but I
did not know what else to do.
I used to spend hours and hours in my church alone in meditation and
prayer; and, while thinking, employed my hands in writing texts over the
windows and on the walls, and in painting ornamental borders above the
arches. I remember writing over the chancel arch, with much interest and
exultation, "Now is come salvation, and strength, and the kingdom of our
God, and the power of His Christ." (Rev. 12:10).
I imagined, in my sanguine hope, that the kingdom of Christ was come,
and that the "accuser of the brethren" was cast down. I thought I saw,
in the power of Christ given to His priests, such victory that nothing
could stand against it. So much for dwelling on a theory, right or
wrong, till it fills the mind. Yet I cannot say that all this was
without prayer. I did wait upon God, and thought my answers were from
Him; but I see now that I went to the Lord with an idol in my heart, and
that He answered me according to it (Ezek. 14:3).
One day I saw a picture