AN ANSWER TO THE APPEAL of JOHN CHURCH, &c. &c. &c.
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There is something so ungenerous in assailing a fallen foe—something so outrageous to humanity—that nothing but an imperative and paramount sense of duty to the public, could induce the Publishers of the following details, to notice the contents of “an Appeal to the Candid Public,” by John Church. Unfortunately for him, unfortunately for the practice he has espoused, his own account is sufficient to condemn him; so that it might justly be said of him—“Out of thine own mouth I judge thee, thou worker of Iniquity!” What, indeed, do his exculpations mean? Every where he intimates his proneness to the hateful and unpardonable sin of backsliding. But still he backslides in his sleep. Unknowing transgressor! What would society say of that female, who, acknowledging that she had been seduced, should pretend that her seduction was effected in her sleep?
Professors like Church are the bane of christianity. They are tares among the wheat. Jesus may be in their mouths, penitence and pardon their prayers, but their practice is that of Satan!
The Reverend John Church is pleased to charge the present Publishers with “the revival of old tales, printed about five years ago;” and, really, it is much to be apprehended that “The Rod in Pickle,” now presented to the religious world, will refresh his memory not most agreeably as to circumstances which he himself would willingly have buried in the silence of the grave. “Willingly” as he avows himself “amenable to the laws,” we much doubt whether he would willingly have the details now published in due form, submitted to a jury of his countrymen. Some “two false boys” might happen to make out a serious case against him, as one lad lately has done.
Whatever were the circumstances of Church’s early life, they certainly are of small moment in this question. Did he not, after he coaxed them to become his bedfellows, at sundry times, continue to “suppose that he was in his own bed with his wife,” and behave to “boys” as though he mistook them for his wife? Uxorious gentleman!
If, however, the reverend John Church could not travel without his “better half,” why was not the poor woman his helpmate at every stage of his preaching life? Besides, in the absence of her, one should have thought, considering circumstances, that his attention would have been paid rather to females than to males.
Nothing can be more disgusting to a well-constituted mind—abating its sinfulness—than the presumption with which the reverend John Church relies on religion for his salvation. No one is to cast a stone at him. Charged as he undeniably stands with transactions the most unnatural and foul—charged and convicted!—still, forsooth, he, and only he, is in the tenderness of mercy to be spared.
And how, after all, does he get out of the Vere Street scrape? Simply by asserting that there are “ten lies” in the paragraph which accuses him, and that it is scarcely worth his while to notice them, though those very lies had blasted his character. Would any plain honest man have endured such an imputation for half an hour? Even since the year 1808, at least, this miserable preacher has been detected of that sex-abusing crime for which language does not furnish an epithet. His sin has finally found him out, and it will be impossible for him to escape the penalty due to it.
Banbury!—The reverend John Church has just denied that he was “driven out from thence;” but what will he say now, when “The Rod in Pickle” is twitching his hide, and making him writhe at every stroke? Although, from feelings of pity and mingled shame, the Congregation at Banbury would “not pretend to charge Mr. Church with having actually, and in the full extent of the thing,” anno 1808, “been guilty of the odious offence laid to his charge,” yet, “from the whole tenor of his conduct, his letters, and various things that appear in evidence,” they declared they were then “constrained to believe that he had discovered a most detestable propensity that way,” adding, that “such was the abhorrence in which the crime he was accused of was held by the people in Banbury, that, was he to presume to return there, neither his person nor the Meeting would be in safety.”
Mr. Church will, we are aware, try to overwhelm us with antinomian [5] bulls; but as his faith is not likely to remove mountains, though it may raise some, we are content to bear the entire weight of woe. Conscious that we shall have fulfilled our duty to man—doubtless to woman—we shall lie down content. We commisserate “poor human nature,” quite as deeply as the reverend Mr. Church, but, then, our pity is limited to natural sins. Offences of another description we confess we cannot consent to tolerate. This avowal may seem somewhat harsh to such persons as the Reverend John Church, but we cannot help making it. “Abusers of themselves!”—Has the reverend John Church forgotten what awaits such men?