^^^^^(5^^^$^. c^aI^. de^ 
 
 BR 378 .B743 1848 
 
 Brief memoirs of the pious 
 
^ 
 
BRIEF MEMOIRS 
 
 F THE PIOUS. 
 
 PREPARED FOR THE PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUB- 
 LICATION. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA : 
 PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION, 
 
 No. 265 CHESTNUT STREET. 
 
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 
 
 1848, by 
 
 A. W. MITCHELL M. D., 
 
 in the Office of the Clerk of the District Court for the 
 
 Eastern District of Pennsylvania. 
 
 Stereotyped by 
 
 S. DOUGLAS WiETH. No. 7 Pear St, 
 
 FliilaJelphii. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 Rev. J. C. RiEu, ----.--5 
 
 " John Campbell, - - - - . 42 
 
 " Plixx Fisk, 69 
 
 " JoHKT Eliot, 99 
 
 Mrs. Catherine Clark, - - - - - 128 
 
 Ladx Huntikgdon, - ... - 156 
 
 Mrs. Talbot, - - - - . . -170 
 
 Mrs. Hanxah Woodd, - - - - - 178 
 
 Ladt Glekorchy, »-.... 196 
 
 Mrs. Anne Thornton, - - - • - 218 
 
 Miss Hannah Sinclair, 240 
 
MEMOIR 
 
 OF 
 
 THE REV. J. C. mW, 
 
 MINISTER OF THE REFORMED CHURCH, FREDERICIA, 
 DEx\MARK. 
 
 Julius Charles Rieu was born at Ge- 
 neva, August 11th, 1792. Having de- 
 voted himself to the service of the Lord in 
 the work of the ministry in the year 1816, 
 he rehnquished, at the close of 1817, the 
 fairest temporal prospects, in order to go and 
 preach the gospel to an humble colony of 
 French refugees, who had resided for nearly 
 a century on the shores of the Little Belt, in 
 Denmark. 
 
 His deep hnmility and self-diffidence had 
 led him at one time to consider himself as 
 altogether unworthy of the sacred office, 
 believing that it required higher talents, 
 purer feehngs, and greater faith than he pos- 
 sessed. More than once, after having become 
 a student in the Theological Hall, he was on 
 the point of quitting it. But such was not 
 the will of his great Master, who intended 
 that he should become " a burning and a 
 shining light" in his day. He remained, 
 therefore, and continued his studies. The 
 
 1 * 5 
 
6 MEMOIR OF 
 
 perusal of the Scriptures, and meditation on 
 them, soon became his chief dehght ; and 
 being accompanied with humihty and a 
 spirit of prayer, his faith grew stronger and 
 stronger, as his knowledge increased. And 
 from the moment, when, by the teaching of 
 the Holy Spirit, he became conscious of his 
 own weakness and utter inabihty to do any- 
 thing " as of himself," and learned to seek 
 strength and guidance from the Saviour 
 alone, from that mom.ent he was enabled to 
 surmount every obstacle, and to adopt the 
 language of the apostle, " I can do all things 
 through Christ which strengtheneth me." 
 Phil. iv. 13. 
 
 The career on which he was now entering, 
 became to him a well-spring of joy, and 
 hope, and abounding consolation ; and he 
 was solemnly set apart for the service of 
 Christ, while his heart glowed with love, 
 and with a fervent desire to make full proof 
 of his ministry. 
 
 The fortune which M. Rieu possessed, the 
 tender and natural attachment which united 
 him to his family, and the numerous friends 
 by whom he was surrounded, (some of 
 whom earnestly endeavoured to shake his 
 resolution.) the benefit of his own native 
 country, then very recently restored to inde- 
 pendence and liberty, all these things per- 
 mitted, nay even solicited him to consecrate 
 his services to the church in his land, and 
 quietly to wait till his turn came to fill some 
 station there ; but "a still small voice" within 
 
THE REV. J. C. RIEU. 7 
 
 addressed to him a yet stronger appeal, and 
 spoke to his heart witli a more powerful elo- 
 quence, urging him to look on the fields 
 " white already to the harvest/' and to put his 
 hand to the work without delay. He was 
 then about twenty-five years of age. He did 
 not hesitate ; endued with strength from 
 above, he overcame all the pleadings of his 
 naturally strong affections, and the yearnings 
 of his heart towards his beloved friends and 
 country. The love of Christ glowed yet 
 more strongly in his soul, and in the true 
 spirit of a missionary, he resigned them ail, 
 and hastened to bear the glad tidings of sal- 
 vation to a far distant spot, on the northern 
 confines of Europe. From this period more 
 especially, he began to reflect around hnn 
 that light, derived from Christ himself, which 
 continued still to increase, until it was merged 
 in " the perfect day," and he entered that 
 world of glory to which the nobler part of 
 his being had long appertained. He had 
 heard that some part of his future fiock had 
 almost forgotten the French language. He 
 remained, therefore, three months at Got- 
 tingen on his way, and then travelling day 
 and night, he arrived at Fredericia, prepared 
 to preach in German. His ministry on earth 
 was not to exceed, in the time of its duration, 
 that of his Divine Master ; but in that short 
 period how much did he perform ! 
 
 By the power of his instructions and ex- 
 ample, and the concihating effect of his own 
 behaviour, he was enabled, through the aid 
 
8 MEMOIR OF 
 
 of that Saviour on whose grace he alone de- 
 pended, to change the whole moral and re- 
 ligious aspect of the colony. " It would be 
 ditlicult for me to express," says one who 
 visited him there, " the feelings awakened in 
 my mind, by seeing him in the midst of his 
 flock, enjoying their love, their respect, and' 
 their confidence ; or the beneficial effect of 
 his conversation, marked by kindness and 
 candour, but yet always made in some way 
 subservient to the * one thing needful.' Al- 
 though habitually serious, he was no stranger 
 to a chastened gaiety of spirit, and his heart 
 was filled with perfect peace and serenity. 
 Mild, benevolent, affable towards all, his con- 
 versation and conduct bore the impress of 
 his faith and hope ; while to the very fea- 
 tures of his countenance his openness and 
 sincerity gave the most pleasing and happy 
 expression. It was not, indeed, he that lived, 
 but Christ that lived in him. Gal. ii. 20. 
 
 " I shall not speak of the scrupulous exact- 
 ness with which he fulfilled all his relative 
 and social duties ; not only those of a pastor, 
 but those also of a son, and a brother, and a 
 friend. He never thought he had done 
 enough. If he failed in what he undertook, 
 he attributed it solely to his own weakness 
 and imperfection, which he deeply bewailed. 
 On the contrary, if he succeeded, he ascribed 
 the glory to God alone. His zeal knew no 
 other limits than the greatest possible number 
 of persons over whom he could exert any in- 
 fluence. As a preacher, though he was con- 
 
THE REV. J. C. RIEU. 9 
 
 vinced that no man should neglect to cultivate 
 the talents God has given him, in order to 
 enable him to set forth the truth more power- 
 fully, yet was he still more fully persuaded 
 that the most important thing in a sermon is 
 not a style scrupulously correct, or harmo- 
 nious and well measured sentences. His 
 sole desire and endeavour was to ' preach 
 Christ Jesus the Lord.' As he was deter- 
 mined ^not to know anything' among his 
 flock, ' save Jesus Christ, and him crucified,' 
 so he gave his whole attention to placing 
 before them the great truths of the gospel, 
 with as much power and simplicity as he 
 was able. He was always eloquent : but his 
 was a Christian eloquence, altogether different 
 from that of the world. ' My art of oratory,' 
 he would say, ' is prayer ;' memorable words, 
 which should be engraven in the heart of 
 every preacher of the gospel. He never 
 separated moraUty from doctrine ; both were 
 united and blended in his mind, as the sun 
 with its light, and as both are inseparably 
 united in their source, the Holy Scriptures. 
 Having chosen his subject, he knelt before 
 God, beseeching the aid of his Spirit in pre- 
 paring suitable nourishment for the souls of 
 those he was to address : then, in the power 
 of the Spirit, he composed with vigour and 
 rapidity, sermons calculated to enter the 
 hearts and rouse the consciences of sinners ; 
 to lead them to repentance and faith ; pre- 
 senting always the one sure and only foun- 
 dation, and with solemn simplicity and 
 
10 MEMOIR OP 
 
 earnestness pointing out ^ the Lamb of God, 
 which taketli away the sin of the world/ 
 
 " The Sabbath was to him the most wel- 
 come day of the week, and he always hailed 
 its approach with joy. At nine o'clock he 
 entered the pulpit, and preached in French. 
 Afterwards he visited in succession three or 
 four afflicted persons, (unable to leave their 
 homes,) and engaged in a service with each 
 of them. At two, he commenced his service 
 in German : after which he held a numerous 
 Sunday school at his own house. Lastly, at 
 six, he opened his doors to those who came 
 with eagerness to listen to the word of God, 
 and details concerning the progress of Chris- 
 tianity in the world. 
 
 " He always rose at four in the morning, 
 summer and winter, and laboured diligently 
 to improve his time, taking only the repose 
 absolutely necessary for his health. During 
 the week in winter he had two evening 
 meetings, similar to that on the Sabbath 
 evening, and he gave two hours' instruction 
 to his catechumens. He read the Bible 
 with those who requested it, gave lessons oil 
 religion, and in writing, spelling, and arith- 
 metic to a schoolmaster he trained up, and 
 was one of the most active members of the 
 Frcdericia Bible Society. He had regular 
 domestic worship morning and evening; 
 he superintended the building of liis school, 
 read and made extracts from useful theolo- 
 gical works, and kept up a somewhat exten- 
 sive correspondence. When we add to all 
 
THE REV. J. C. RIEU. 11 
 
 these labours, that he visited from house to 
 house with a zeal that never intermitted ; 
 exhorting sinners, consoling the sick and af- 
 flicted, strengthening the weak, and carrying 
 with him every where the words and the 
 blessings of Christ, we may then form some 
 conception of the manner in which this faith- 
 ful steward improved the talents committed 
 to his charge. He lived always as in the 
 presence of God. The world was to him 
 only a place of passage, of trial, and of ex- 
 pectation ; and young as he was, his mind 
 was habitually fixed on the desired moment 
 when he should be delivered from ' the body 
 of death,' to depart and be with Christ. He 
 was standing ready, and was found watching 
 and praying, looking for his Lord's coming. 
 He wrote to me, six weeks before his death, 
 while he was yet strong and in vigorous 
 health, the following letter. 
 
 " * Let us strive, dear brother, not to lose 
 even a single instant of the time which our 
 Master has entrusted to us. How short is it, 
 that moment which we call life ! and how 
 much shorter than we even suppose, may it 
 prove for each one of ourselves ! Let us 
 not consider its termination as a thing far re- 
 moved from us ; let us not place it at the dis- 
 tance of a year, or of a month, or even of a 
 week ; let us place it as at the close of each 
 one of those days, during which we are per- 
 mitted to remain on earth. Oh ! let us live 
 and act throughout every day, as if that 
 were to be indeed our last day ! This calcu- 
 
12 MEMOIR OP 
 
 lation will not deceive ns, and this is the 
 only way in which we shall avoid being 
 taken unawares.' 
 
 " Speaking of the love of Christian friends, 
 he said in another letter, ' Oh the sweetness 
 of that union, of that indissoluble love, 
 which, in spite of distance of place, only 
 grows stronger and stronger ; striking deeper 
 roots in the soul in proportion as we receive 
 larger measures of that Spirit who cements 
 together, and unites closely in one, all the 
 members of that body, of which Jesus Christ 
 is the Head ! We all listen to the same 
 voice ; we are all led into the same pastures ; 
 we all drink at the same well-spring of living 
 waters ; our eyes all look up with the same 
 joy to that Good Shepherd who will, ere 
 long, gather us together in one, after our dis- 
 persion, that henceforth there may be only 
 <one fold and one Shepherd.' There, there 
 will be no more separation and mourning. 
 "There shall be no more death, neither 
 sorrow, nor crying, neitfier shall there be any 
 more pain." Death will be no more : that 
 which is unholy and defiled, will be no 
 more : neither Satan, nor the world, nor the 
 flesh, will ever be able again to interrupt 
 our adoration, our anthems, our joys. God 
 himself will be our sun ; we shall walk in 
 his light, we shall glory in him, and rejoice, 
 and that for ever — for ever. my friend ! 
 what balm does this pour on all the sorrows 
 we now feel ! How are all those sulferings 
 alleviated, which are often so severe to the 
 
THE REV. J. C. RIEU. IS 
 
 flesh, when we thus contemplate the end ; 
 when we walk not by sight, but by faith ! 
 Oh that we could but keep our eyes always 
 fixed upon the Author and Finisher of our 
 faith ! Even now, yes ! even now we be- 
 hold something of his glory, though it is but 
 as through a glass darkly,^ or as by the re- 
 flection of a mirror full of blemishes, by 
 reason of our fleshly eyes; yet, notwith- 
 standing the bondage of corruption, this 
 glory is even now suflicient to thrill our 
 hearts with joy. What will it be, my brother, 
 when we ourselves, changed from glory to 
 glory, shall indeed behold in its eternal 
 reality, the glory of our great God and Sa- 
 viour ! What a prospect ! what a foretaste 
 of bliss unspeakable ! world, how puerile 
 appear thy transient joys ! How worthless 
 thy fleeting honours I Deem us fools if thou 
 wilt ; alas ! we cannot but weep over thy 
 folly, for we know what tears it will cost 
 thee ; we know in how short a time thou 
 wilt be cruelly undeceived, when in the full 
 splendour of eternal day, thou shalt behold 
 thy wise ones, those whose brows thou hast 
 wreathed with laurel, and on whom thou hast 
 lavished all thine incense, covered with 
 shame and everlasting contempt ; and those 
 whom thou hast despised as fools, clothed 
 with the garments of salvation, their heads 
 adorned with the crown of life, proclaimed 
 by the voice of the archangel throughout the 
 whole extent of the celestial regions, sons of 
 the Most High; seated on thrones of glory, 
 
 2 
 
14 MEMOIR OF 
 
 to reign with him for ever and ever, in those 
 palaces which the glory of the Lord doth 
 lighten, and the Lamb is the light thereof. 
 We shall meet again according as 
 
 God may appoint ; either, while the conflict 
 still lasts, together to adore Him whom as 
 yet we see not ; or in the day of our joy and 
 gladness, to chant together our song of vic- 
 tory.' " 
 
 We Iiave now only to detail the circum- 
 stances attending that event which for him 
 made this life's transitory shadows disappear, 
 while it put him in possession of the eternal 
 reality and substance. 
 
 During the winter of 1821, a contagious 
 malady, till then unknown in that country, 
 broke out among the inhabitants of Frede-\ 
 ricia, and seemed peculiarly to attack the 
 members of the colony. These simple 
 people, who had hitherto led a peaceful life, 
 on their narrow peninsula, cultivating their 
 lands and plantations of tobacco, were 
 visited, as in a moment, by a great calamity : 
 they stood amazed to behold death bearing 
 away with fearful suddenness those whom 
 they held dear. Conjugal ties, only just 
 formed, were broken asunder. The conta- 
 gion seized on both the young and the old, 
 and carried its devastation into every family. 
 What were the thoughts and feelings of the 
 faithful pastor on beholding this spectacle of 
 destruction ! He adored the sovereignty of 
 God as manifested in all his ways, and 
 traced, even in the midst of them, his designs 
 
THE REV. J. C. RIEU. 15 
 
 of mercy. Being persuaded that the whole 
 will of God was good, that every develop- 
 ment of it was perfect, and exactly suited to 
 unfold his previous purposes, he saw in the 
 strokes inflicted by this malady, a wide door 
 set open before him, for proclaiming the 
 mystery of the gospel, and for rendering 
 those partakers of eternal life, whose bodily 
 hfe was now threatened by the contagious 
 malady. 
 
 Rieu heard the call, and he obeyed it ; he 
 was constantly to be found at the beds of the 
 dying, and beside the graves of the dead. He 
 there delivered the message with which he 
 had been entrusted. He preached Him who 
 is " the resurrection and the life," in the 
 midst of these scenes of death and anguish. 
 He announced to those whom this disease 
 was about to separate from all they loved 
 and all they possessed on earth, that God has 
 bestowed a gift on the world, and that this 
 gift is "life eternal,'' "that he that hath the 
 Son, hath life, but that he that hath not the 
 Son of God, shall not see life, but the wrath 
 of God abideth on him," 1 John v. 12 ; John 
 iii. 36. He besought them, by the mercies 
 of God, to receive, ere they expired, this 
 greatest of all gifts, which could abundantly 
 supply the place of every other, and which 
 the Son of God purchased for us, at the price 
 of his own most precious blood. " It was by 
 the side of the sick bed," writes one of the 
 friends of the pastor of Fredericia, Avho was 
 present at the last funeral discourse which he 
 
16 MEMOIR OP 
 
 preached, " it was while standing by those 
 new made graves, which were daily opening 
 to receive some fresh victim, that Rieii en- 
 treated his hearers with all the force of truth, 
 and with an accent of earnestness and power 
 which seems still sounding in my ears, to 
 < flee from the wrath to come,' conjuring 
 them to be reconciled to God by Jesus 
 Christ, and directing them to the Saviour, in 
 order to obtain healing for their wounded 
 souls." 
 
 It was just at this period that he wrote 
 thus to one of his friends : " I must leave you 
 now, dear brother, and go to console, to 
 fortify, and to bear my testimony. I would 
 fain give a voice to these corpses for those 
 who yet survive. This is the moment in 
 which to cry out loudly, ' Be ye saved !' 
 The voice of the Almighty is powerful, and 
 his hand is stretched out marvellously 
 amongst us. Oh that it may be given to 
 them to discern that hand, and to us to speak 
 so as the Master would have us speak." 
 We may be unable to say positively that the 
 invitations of M. Rieu were listened to and 
 obeyed ; but we do not consider it as a mat- 
 ter of doubt. Even if his voice had not 
 resounded etiectually in tlie hearts of tliose 
 by whom he was surrounded, it has been 
 etfectually heard elsewhere ; it has resounded, 
 even from his bed of death, in Switzerland, 
 in France, in Germany, and in England. 
 God was pleased to effect much by his 
 sojourn while he remained on earth, and 
 
THE REV. J. C. RIEU. 17 
 
 Still more by his departure from it. If the 
 pastor of a small church in Jutland has been 
 removed, it has been only that he might 
 become a preacher to a far more extensive 
 community. He, being dead, preaches still 
 to all those who have or may become 
 acquainted with the details of his last hours ; 
 and he will continue to preach as long as his 
 name shall be remembered in the church of 
 Christ. Lord, thy ways are not as our 
 ways, nor thy thoughts as our thoughts, Isa. 
 Iv. S. 
 
 In the meanwhile, and in the midst of all 
 these visitations of sickness and mourning, 
 which, following one upon another, deeply 
 afflicted the heart of M. Rieu, he perceived 
 within himself the symptoms which conveyed 
 the solemn, but not unwelcome warning, 
 " Set thine house in order : for thou shait 
 die, and not live." This event could not be 
 traced to his neglect of any of the precau- 
 tions necessary against contagion, for he had 
 consulted the physicians on the subject, and 
 conformed to all their directions, before he 
 visited the beds of the dying. 
 
 On Thursday morning, June 21st, 1821, 
 M. Rieu perceived in himself the first symp- 
 toms of the disorder, and from the earliest 
 moment he foresaw the issue. He looked 
 upon death only as a blessed deliverance ; 
 he felt like one who throws off a heavy bur- 
 den, and a sense of joy, the precursor and 
 foretaste of joy everlasting, from that hour 
 took possession of his soul. But while he 
 
18 MEMOIR OF 
 
 looked upward with a smile of serene joy, 
 and hailed that heaven which was opening 
 before him, he did not forget the work which 
 remained for him to do in the present world. 
 This forms a remarkable feature in his clos- 
 ing scene, and one which ought to be especi- 
 ally pointed out : for in it we behold 
 displayed and shining with an equal lustre, 
 the most exalted rapture of the Christian just 
 about to receive his crown ; and, at the same 
 time, the most calm and minute attention to 
 the practical duties of the present life. If, on 
 the one hand, he was " caught up," as it 
 were, into " the third heaven," to use the 
 words of the apostle, and there tasted " the 
 powers of the world to come ;'' he had 
 learned also, like him, to be " gentle among 
 his flock, even as a nurse cherishelh her 
 children." 
 
 It is not superstition and enthusiasm, but 
 true spiritual religion, that can offer exam- 
 ples of calmness and perfect peace, even in 
 the midst of the highest spiritual elevation of 
 feeling. Christianity alone enables a man to 
 be elevated without superstition, and to be 
 abased without degradation. As soon as M. 
 Rieu found himself attacked with the malady, 
 he placed himself at his desk, and wrote the 
 following paper, addressed to his beloved 
 flock. 
 
 " Frcdencia, Jvne 21, lSi31. 
 " Having been attacked this day with 
 symptoms of the prevalent malady, by which 
 
THE REV. J. C. RIEU. 19 
 
 many of our number have been already con- 
 ducted to the tomb, I think it advisable to 
 leave with you some instructions relating to 
 the most important subjectSj in case it should 
 be the will of God to take me to himself. 1 
 have not any very accurate knowledge as to 
 the amount of my property at Geneva, but 
 be it what it may, I would have it divided 
 into two parts, the one for my dear parents, 
 the other for my dear flock, who have be- 
 come to me, in a manner, as my second 
 family. This latter half I would wish to be 
 added to the funds of the church ; the other 
 to be distributed by my beloved family, ac- 
 cording as they may think best, seeing that 
 I have not now time to enter into particulars 
 as to its disposal, and that we are all pilgrims 
 and strangers here, on the very verge of 
 eternity. I wish all my papers of every kind 
 to be forwarded to my family without delay, 
 and I shall bless God if any edification may 
 be derived from their contents. 
 
 " Now, my beloved parishioners, I have 
 only one word more to say to you, and it is 
 but a repetition of that which you already 
 know, of that which wall occupy my thoughts 
 even to the end. It is this, that I have 
 loved you, and that I do love you at this 
 hour, with my whole soul ; and that I have 
 prayed for you, and will pray for you till I 
 resign my breath. I think I have proved 
 my attachment, by preaching to you the 
 word of God, such as I believe it to be in 
 my conscience, and as in his sight. Before 
 
20 MEMOIR OF 
 
 I prepared for your souls the nourishment I 
 was appointed to give you, I constantly 
 bowed my knees at the throne of grace, to 
 entreat of the chief Shepherd, that he would 
 himself speak to you by my mouth, and that 
 he would not suffer me to utter a single 
 thought, as of myself Alas ! I am well 
 aware that had it not been for my want of 
 faith, my God would more effectually have 
 perfected his strength in my weakness, and 
 would have spoken to you himself more 
 exclusively. Nevertheless, I have this firm 
 and perfect confidence, that He who has 
 elected me, an unworthy creature, conceived 
 and born in sin, and in a state of utter perdi- 
 tion, deserving death a thousand times over, 
 and condemned to it by my transgressions, 
 that He is faithful, having enabled me to 
 build on the only sure foundation, Christ 
 crucified ; and that, disregarding for his 
 sake, all the great deficiencies and defile- 
 ments which have tarnished and disfigured 
 every part of my work, he will keep that 
 which I have committed unto him even to 
 the end, and will preserve me unto his 
 heavenly kingdom. And this I believe the 
 more certainly, because I cast myself, at this 
 hour, at the foot of the cross, making a full 
 and entire renunciation of all merits of my 
 own, for my ' righteousnesses are as filthy 
 rags ;' and declaring solemnly before God, 
 that I acknowledge Jesus Christ, God blessed 
 for evermore, as my only Saviour; who by 
 his blood poured out on the cross, has 
 
THE REV. J. C. RIEU. 21 
 
 washed me from all my iniquities, and puri- 
 fied me by his Holy Spirit, so that I shall 
 behold his face in righteousness. I smite on 
 my breast with the publican, under the deep 
 sense of my transgressions ; and I cry to 
 Him with the crucified and converted thief, 
 ' Lord, remember me when thou comest into 
 thy kingdom !' Truly do I look on death 
 as the happiest event, though ' I am in a 
 strait betwixt two,' wishing yet longer to 
 instruct those whom the Lord has confided 
 to my care, but still can I also declare from 
 the ground of my heart, that I 'desire to 
 depart, and to be with Christ, which is far 
 better.' • If He should be pleased thus early 
 to take me home, this is certainly a favour 
 for which I cannot sufficiently humble my- 
 self before him, while I pour forth anthems 
 of grateful praise. What am I, my God ! 
 that my conflict should be so soon terminated, 
 before I have ever * resisted unto blood, 
 striving against sin ?' 
 
 " My dear parishioners, look well to your- 
 selves. I have declared unto you the whole 
 counsel of God. It is true, (and I humble 
 myself for it, and weep over it at the 'foot of 
 the cross,) that it has been done amidst much 
 infirmity, and fear of man. My conscience 
 condemns me, especially for not having 
 more closely imitated the example of the 
 apostle, by exhorting each one of you, in 
 private, from house to house ; but notwith- 
 standing this, you can all of you bear me 
 witness, that I have never been ashamed of 
 
22 MEMOIR OF 
 
 Christ crucified in preaching his word to you 
 from the pulpit. His kingdom, then, has 
 come unto you ; the very walls of his temple 
 will attest that it has. Oh, what would I 
 give that all had listened to it, that all had 
 received that word of life which alone can 
 save the soul ! How delightful would it 
 have been to me, if larger numbers of you 
 had been really converted to Christ ! 
 hearken, hearken, to His voice, while it is 
 yet day. I implore it of you, even as if I 
 spoke to you from my grave. If you hearken 
 not now, neither would you hear, ' though 
 one rose from the dead.' Heaven and earth 
 shall pass away, but this word shall not pass 
 away. Christ, save them, plead for them, 
 even as thou hast deigned to plead for me ! 
 And now, adieu, my dear parishioners : ' I 
 commend you to God, and to the word of 
 his grace.' * Watch ye, and pray,' ' for yet 
 a Uttle while, and He that shall come will 
 come,' and will come for you. We shall 
 soon, very soon, meet each other before the 
 judgment seat of Christ. 
 
 " If time permit, I shall write also to my 
 dear parents, and to my beloved friends in 
 Christ. If I am unable to do this, they will, 
 at least, know that it was my earnest desire, 
 and you will communicate to them this letter. 
 Oh that grace and peace may rest abundantly 
 upon them! and that they may all dwell 
 much on the thought, that they too must 
 very soon ' leave the world, and go to the 
 Father :' may they make haste, then, to unite 
 
THE REV. J. C. RIEU. 23 
 
 themselves to Christ, who is ' the Light of 
 the world/ the Resurrection, the Way, the 
 Truth, the Lile ! 
 
 " I bid adieu, also, to my beloved sister H. 
 Should she survive me, and recover from the 
 dangerous malady which now oppresses her, 
 I commend her likewise to the grace of that 
 Lord in whom she has believed, and by 
 whom she is saved. I commend her, also, 
 in this world, to the care of my dear flock, 
 and to that of my beloved family, trusting 
 that they will all endeavour to render her life 
 as comfortable as possible. I bid her fare- 
 well. We are not separated.* 
 
 * Madame H. was a person about fifty years old, 
 who had been the object of M. Rieu's devoted pastoral 
 care, during a severe illness which for a long time was 
 expected to prove fatal. God, however, was pleased 
 to hear the prayers of this faithful and excellent pastor; 
 and Madame H. had been restored not only to health, 
 of body, but had, at the same time, received that know- 
 ledge of God, which is the health of the soul. Her 
 faith was simple, and very strong ; the word of God. 
 was her delight, and her habitual nourishment, and 
 Jesus Christ her only Saviour. About six months 
 before M. Rieu's death, she was requested by his 
 friends to undertake the management of his household. 
 She watched over him with the tenderness of a mother, 
 and over the people of his charge with the care of a 
 kind Christian matron, visiting those whom he was 
 unable to visit himself, and where his presence was 
 not absolutely required. She imparted the most sooth- 
 ing consolations to the sick and afflicted, and greatly 
 assisted in the good done by M. Rieu in the parish. 
 During these frequent visits, she was seized with the 
 prevailing malady, and breathed out her renewed 
 spirit in the arms of her Saviour, three days only 
 before the death of her beloved pastor and friend. 
 
24 MEMOIR OF 
 
 " Entreat all my relations to make every 
 possible exertion to find a pastor to replace 
 me in this church. Until my last breath 1 
 will offer up supplications to God for you 
 all, for I love you with the tenderest affec- 
 tion. May grace, mercy, and peace be with 
 you, and remain with you, now, and to all 
 eternity. I remain, with the deepest sense 
 of all the proofs of attachment you have 
 given me, your devoted pastor, 
 
 Charles Rieu. 
 
 Doubtless the mind of M. Rieu was com- 
 forted after he had thus borne his dying tes- 
 timony to his Saviour. On the following 
 day, Friday, the disease increased upon him, 
 and confined him to his bed. The greatest 
 alarm was now felt throughout the colony ; 
 their beloved minister, their father, their 
 brother, he to whom they all owed so much, 
 and whom they loved so devotedly, was now 
 himself taken ill. Filled with apprehension, 
 they stood silent, tremblingly awaiting the 
 issue. Two of his friends watched day and 
 night beside him. All the female part of his 
 flock vied with one another in their endea- 
 vours to be of use to him. One among 
 them, of a great age, having no children, 
 adopted, seemingly as her own son, him 
 from whose lips she had heard the words of 
 eternal life. She remained with him con- 
 stantly, and would suffer no hand but her 
 own to prepare his body for the tomb. 
 
 On Sunday, June 24th, at intervals, and 
 
THE REV. J. C. RIEU. 0€ 
 
 between the paroxysms of his disease, M. 
 Rieu wrote with a pencil, from his bed of 
 death, in characters often difficult to decipher, 
 and sometimes in broken and unfinished 
 sentences, the following journal. 
 
 "A journal addressed to my family in 
 order to make them acquainted with the par- 
 ticulars of my present illness. Should it 
 please the Lord, in his great goodness, to 
 remove me out of the world, I wish it to be 
 sent to them together with the letter finished 
 on the evening of the 21st. 
 
 " Sunday, June 24. I did not wish to 
 make you uneasy, my dear relations, by 
 mentioning the epidemic sickness which was 
 prevalent here during the last winter, and 
 which redoubled its attacks in the spring, 
 proving especially fatal to persons in the 
 prime of life, both male and female. While 
 I was absent at Copenhagen, many were 
 carried off by it. The physician, however, 
 asserted positively that a very slight degree 
 of contagion remained. Notwithstanding 
 this, I made a point of using all the neces- 
 sary precautions, not remaining long with 
 the sick, washing my face and hands with 
 vinegar, etc. Madame H. did the same, but 
 she sometimes visited as often as three times 
 a day those persons who were very ill, when 
 the frequent recurrence of funeral discourses, 
 and addresses spoken over the graves, left 
 me scarcely a moment of leisure. It was 
 Madame H. who first fell sick, just at the 
 time of our first communion, and on the 
 
 3 
 
26 MEMOIR OF 
 
 very day when our friends, the Monods, ar- 
 rived. But we had not then an idea that her 
 complaint was the prevailing epidemic, as she 
 appeared to be tolerably well again on the 
 Monday, and still more so on the Tuesday, 
 so as to be able to make a short excursion to 
 Christiansfeldt. On her return home, how- 
 ever, she was obliged to go to her bed, and 
 as she had been peculiarly confided by the 
 Lord to my care, it was clearly my duty to 
 watch over Madame H. even as if she had 
 been my sister, more especially here, under 
 her circumstances of desolation and banish- 
 ment from all her friends, as she had formed 
 few ties, as yet, with the people of Fredericia. 
 On Sunday, she seemed a great deal better, 
 and we both partook privately of the Lord's 
 supper. But alas ! about noon, a change 
 for the worse came on, a swelling in the 
 throat rendered bleeding necessary ; and I 
 then wrote a few words to our friends the 
 Monods, entreating them not to mention this, 
 that you might be spared needless anxiety. 
 The following days brought no change for 
 the better ; on the contrary, she became 
 gradually worse. On Thursday, I began 
 myself to experience a sensation of weight 
 in the head ; but I thought it might very na- 
 turally be attributed to my nightly watchings, 
 and that a little rest would set all to rights. 
 By the advice of the physicians, 1 delayed 
 till the next day taking the emetic usually 
 given at the commencement of this sickness. 
 But the next day all the symptoms having 
 
THE BEV. J. C. RIEU. 27 
 
 increased, I went to bed, and took, by the 
 doctor's direction, the prescribed remedy, 
 which exceedingly harassed me for many 
 hours together, and brought on feehngs of 
 great weakness. Other medicines followed, 
 which I need not particularise. 
 
 " To be brief, I wish now to converse a 
 little with you from my sick bed, in case it 
 should be God's will that I should never do 
 it again in any other manner. I wish you to 
 be fully convinced, dear relations, that I have 
 not neglected one of the means placed by 
 God within my reach, for the recovery of my 
 health. I view it as my first duty, to attend, 
 even in the minutest particular, to every 
 thing the physician enjoins, precisely for this 
 reason, that, having little confidence in man, 
 I look upon the physician chosen for this 
 place, (be his reputation high or low,) only 
 as an instrument in the hands of God, by 
 whom he executes his own will with regard 
 to every disease. On this point I do not feel 
 the slightest anxiety. The leading feature 
 of this malady is a total prostration of 
 strength, and frequent delirium; hitherto, I 
 thank God, I have not had this last symptom, 
 as it would deprive me of power to attend to 
 the one thing needful, the only source of conso- 
 lation. On Friday, we separated ourselves 
 from our dear sister, Madame H., whom I had 
 till then been able to visit, as often as prudence 
 and my own occupations allowed. This 
 dear sister is still hanging suspended between 
 Ufa and death, and seldom speaks any ration- 
 
28 MEMOIR OF 
 
 al words. The physician thinks me better 
 to-day, (Sunday :) but as so many instances 
 have occurred of the dangerous symptoms 
 suddenly returning, I shall not regret in any 
 case having written these sheets of paper, 
 out of affection for you. My mind is filled 
 with the most abundant peace and joy. If 
 anything could incline me to think the pro- 
 babilities were in favour of my recovery, it 
 would be the immensity of the boon that 
 Avould be conferred on me by so early a 
 recal, even almost before I have begun the 
 combat. What am I } I, the most unworthy 
 and polluted of creatures ! what am I, that 
 love like this should be manifested towards 
 me ? Unquestionably I shall owe a larger 
 debt of gratitude for this than for all the 
 favours that have preceded it ; I have done 
 nothing to merit it. But what am I saying ? 
 Is it not all of grace, free grace, absolutely, 
 entirely gratuitous ? It is very sweet to me 
 to write these short sentences thus rapidly to 
 you ; it seems to bring us together ; and to 
 speak to you of God ; for it is to him alone 
 that we must look in all this dispensation, 
 that we may learn to know his voice and to 
 follow it. 
 
 " I have just been much affected by a few 
 moments' conversation with my young 
 pupil, the schoohiiaster, who called at the 
 parsonage on his way to church ; he made 
 me feel so sensibly the deep interest they all 
 take in my illness. * What will become of 
 us,' he said, ^if the Lord should take you 
 
THE REV. J. C. RIEU. 29 
 
 away ?' I answered him that he might be 
 assured I would never shrink back, Uke a 
 coward from the battle, and that I was ready 
 again to take up my cross, for as long a 
 period as the Lord might appoint ; that my 
 only prayer was that of my Master, ^ Thy 
 will be done,' and that I should look upon 
 it as a boon too great to be conferred on a 
 miserable sinner like myself, thus promptly 
 to be released, after so short a warfare. The 
 good Favre also came in at the same time, 
 all in tears, and seemed fully to enter into 
 my meaning, when I told him that though 1 
 had felt joyful at the thought of my deUver- 
 ance, it was not owing to any faint-hearted- 
 ness or want of deep attachment to them all. 
 '* Later in the day — Some symptoms of a 
 graver character have appeared ; but I feel 
 the same unruffled peace. '- 1 know whom I 
 have believed.' I descend into the dark val- 
 ley with unutterable joy, for there I shall 
 meet Jesus. I shall meet my God, even 
 Christ who has conquered for us. All his 
 promises seem now converging, as it were, 
 to one point, pouring into my soul such glad- 
 ness as I never felt before. Oh no ! he has 
 not deceived us. Blessed are those who 
 having not seen, yet have believed ! I am 
 going to see him as he is. I see him even 
 now. I feel his hand sustaining every part 
 of my soul ; in proportion as the body of 
 clay perishes, the inward man is renewed. 
 I am going to be changed into his image, to 
 be made like him ! There — where there is 
 
 3 * 
 
30 MEMOIR OP 
 
 no mourning ! Oh that I could pour this 
 joy into your souls ! But it is from thence 
 that you also will draw it for yourselves ; 
 and he it is who will even now comfort you, 
 for we shall not be separated; I shall see 
 you coming with Christ in the clouds of 
 heaven ! may you all fall asleep in him ! 
 adieu to you all ! my beloved, hope a 
 little longer ! It is come, then, even that 
 happy moment for which I have so often 
 languished, the thought of which was habi- 
 tually my sv/eetest refreshment. Oh how 
 good art thou, Lord ! .... In thy pre- 
 sence there is fulness of joy ! . . . Resurrec- 
 tion and life ! . . Eternity ! Eternity with 
 Jesus ! ... So loved without having been 
 seen ! What will it be ? ... I sink under it. 
 
 Oh that blood ! . . . That cross ! 
 
 What peace is there in those last words to 
 the thief, « To-day shalt thou be with me in 
 paradise !' Joy ! joy without end ! fulness 
 of joy ! He whom our souls love. . . For 
 ever ! To sing the song of the Lamb with 
 the ten thousand times ten thousand who 
 understand it, who have learned the new 
 song I . . . To Him who has saved us ! 
 Before his throne. ... I burn with desire ! 
 When shall I pierce through the chrysalis of 
 the flesh ? Only a very little while ! . . . . 
 How good he is ! . . . . Weep not, my 
 friends ! . . . . The only thing which has 
 latterly burdened my conscience was, to give 
 a last warning to some notorious sinners ; 
 this I had neglected to do, owing to the pres- 
 
THE REV. J. C. RIEU. 31 
 
 sure of our recent circumstances I 
 
 have now solemnly admonished them, 
 through the medium of friends, so that I 
 feel assured their blood will not be required 
 of me. 
 
 "My peace is even now pure and perfect, 
 . . . and without any alloy ! . . . My joy 
 surpasses all understanding ! I only seek to 
 make you acquainted with it, that you may 
 all long after it for yourselves. Assuredly 
 it can never be found in the giddy throng of 
 the world ; neither is the path that leads to it 
 traced out by the philosophers of the present 
 generation. Oh no ! none but thyself can 
 bestow it, God ! . . . God the Saviour ! 
 God the Comforter ! . . . Blessed ! Blessed 
 — Blessed for ever be thy glorious name ! 
 
 " Tender mother ! dear uncle, dear aunt, 
 dear brothers and sisters, nephews and nieces, 
 friends in Christ, we are not separated — we 
 shall see each other again very soon ! I will 
 not write more until to-morrow. Still Sun- 
 day morning V Here the journal ends. 
 
 We will not stay to dwell upon this beau- 
 tiful fragment. We will only remark, for the 
 encouragement of others whose Christian 
 course, or day of labour, may be commencing, 
 that he who wrote thus, was not a believer 
 advanced in age, and ripened for heaven by 
 a long protracted warfare. He was a young 
 man, not yet twenty-nine years of age, for 
 whom there might have been reserved in 
 this world an ample portion of enjoyment. 
 Surely his untiring zeal, and affectionate 
 
32 MEMOIR OF 
 
 fidelity, may well furnish a powerful stimulus 
 to every reader, to work like him while it is 
 day, knowing that the night cometh wherein 
 no man can work. 
 
 On Monday the 25th, M. Rieu became 
 delirious, but not without lucid intervals. 
 His restlessness was very great, the fever 
 running higher in his case than in that of any 
 of the other patients ; his ardent mind, full 
 of vigour, of youth, and of life, was naturally 
 far more shaken by the disease than were the 
 tranquil minds of the sober agriculturists 
 around him. He spoke and moved eagerly 
 in his bed. Sometimes he started up suddenly, 
 wrapped himself in the sheets and coverlid, 
 and assumed the attitude of a person setting 
 out on a journey. " What do you wish to 
 do. Monsieur le pasteur ?'' cried his agitated 
 attendants. "I am going to my mother," he 
 replied. Even to the last, together»with the 
 most ardent love to Christ, there glowed in 
 his breast the tenderest filial recollections, 
 and the warmest attachment to his country, 
 his relations, and his friends. 
 
 At other times, that idea which had been 
 the uppermost in his mind, during Ins resi- 
 dence at Fredericia, the sacrificing everything 
 for the salvation of the souls committed to 
 his charge, gained the ascendency over every 
 other. He had a witness within his breast, 
 which testified that he had been faithful. He 
 would put his arms out of the bed, turn up 
 his sleeves, and presenting his hands to the 
 elders who watched beside him, he would 
 
 I 
 
THE REV. J. C. RIEU. 33 
 
 say, " Look at these hands ! have they not 
 laboured for you ? have they not been de- 
 voted to your service ?" These good men, 
 when they called to mind the frequent night 
 watchings, and the unwearied and perhaps 
 too arduous exertions of their beloved pastor, 
 could only answer him by tears. 
 
 One of the friends who visited him on the 
 day preceding his death, finding him perfectly 
 collected, proposed reading some portion of 
 the word of God. M. Rieu accepted the 
 offer with joy. The chapter chosen was the 
 17th of St. John, that sublime prayer in 
 which Jesus, affixing his seal, as it were, to 
 his ministerial work, resigns it into his Father's 
 hands, and intercedes for those whom He 
 hath given to him ; a very appropriate con- 
 secration of the departure of that faithful 
 pastor and preacher, who was now about to 
 finish his course also. After hearing the 
 third verse, " And this is life eternal, that 
 they might know thee, the only true God, 
 and Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent," M. 
 Rieu repeated with a feeble voice, but with 
 evident emotions of joy, " Yes ; to know 
 thee." At the close of the chapter he ap- 
 peared quite revived. What a consolation 
 to his friends to see him thus refreshed with 
 those gladdening words of salvation and holy 
 confidence, uttered, a short time before His 
 death, by his Divine Master, when the same 
 solemn hour was just at hand for himself ! 
 Shortly after, however, the fever returned 
 with redoubled violence, and his mind became 
 
34 MEMOIR OF 
 
 again completely disordered ; still it was evi- 
 dent from the broken sentences he uttered at 
 intervals, that his heart was already in hea- 
 ven. A httle before his death, he said, like 
 Stephen, that he saw the heavens opened, 
 and cried out, " I see the angels coming on 
 the clouds of heaven, they are coming to 
 take me, they descend, they stoop down ! 
 they encircle my bed, they are come to guide 
 me to their glorious abode !" 
 
 Soon after this, on Thursday the 2Sth, at 
 half-past one p., m., the angels came indeed, 
 and carried his spirit into his Saviour's bo- 
 som. He died the death of the righteous. 
 May our last end be like his ! The cry 
 which resounded through Egypt at the first 
 passover, might be now heard, in all the 
 dwellings of Fredericia ; for verily "there 
 was not a house where there was not one 
 dead." There was not a single family that 
 had not lost in M. Rieu a father, or a brother, 
 or a friend. The whole city went out weep- 
 ing to pay him the last tribute of respect. 
 The Roman Catholic priest was desirous to 
 have preached his funeral sermon, but a 
 Lutheran minister had been previously en- 
 trusted with that office. The entire commu- 
 nity put on mourning and wore it for a 
 month. From the hour when M. Rieu sank 
 under the disease, its ravages seemed to be 
 at an end : his was the last grave that was 
 opened.* 
 
 * At Fredericia, as in mtiny other countries of the 
 north, it is the custom to have the coffins expensively 
 
THE REV. J. C. RIEU. 35 
 
 A few days afterwards the following ar- 
 ticle appeared in one of the Copenhagen 
 journals : 
 
 " On the 28th of June, the reformed 
 French colony at Fredericia sustained a deep- 
 ly afflictive loss in the death of their beloved 
 pastor, M. Rieu, of Geneva. After a resi- 
 dence among them of about five years, he 
 was carried off by the contagious malady 
 which had long prevailed there, and during 
 which, daily, and from morning to night, he 
 had prayed with and for the sick, and ad- 
 ministered to them all, every possible assist- 
 ance and consolation. The most unbounded 
 liberality rendered him the father of the indi- 
 gent. By his instructions, his preaching, his 
 multiplied exercises of devotion, with the 
 aged, the poor, and the ignorant, he proved 
 himself to be a true shepherd of souls, in 
 the noblest and most enlarged sense of the 
 term. In order to dedicate himself wholly 
 to his sacred vocation, and to labour for the 
 
 ornamented, and afterwards carried to the cemetery- 
 uncovered; the vanity of men thus blending itself even 
 with that event which most forcibly proclaims his utter 
 nothingness. M. Rieu had in vain endeavoured to put 
 a stop to this custom, by which the family of the de- 
 ceased were often deprived even of their last shilling. 
 When extended on the bed of death, he made his elders 
 promise that if the Lord received him, they would 
 place his body in a simple and unadorned coffin, cov- 
 ered over with a black cloth, bought with his own 
 money, and which should be left to the colony to be 
 used in future for the same purpose. Thus his pasto- 
 ral fidelity was occupied with details for the benefit of 
 his flock even at the hour of death ! 
 
36 MEMOIR OF 
 
 good of his flock, he made a voluntary sacri- 
 fice of all that he held dearest in the world, 
 and he continued to be their benefactor even 
 after his death, by bequeathing to them the 
 half of his fortune. Besides the unseen me- 
 morial of him which remains enshrined in 
 the recesses of their hearts, he has raised to 
 himself an enduring and visible memorial, 
 by the side of his tomb ; a noble building for 
 the schools, entirely the result of his indefa- 
 tigable exertions, he having collected funds 
 for it from all the Protestant countries of 
 Europe. He died in the Lord ; and his re- 
 mains are deposited far from the land which 
 gave him birth ; but in that common country, 
 to which all his thoughts and desires contin- 
 ually aspired, ' his works do follow him ;' he 
 is there elevated far above all human praise, 
 though accompanied by our tearful regrets, 
 and most grateful recollections." 
 
 The editor of this account has been at 
 Fredericia. He has visited that church in 
 which M. Rieu so often preached the word 
 of life for the remission of sins. He has ad- 
 ministered the sacramental bread and wine 
 to those hungering souls who had not par- 
 taken of it since the hand of their beloved 
 pastor presented it to them ; and has spoken 
 to that widowed church of Him who said, 
 " I will not leave you comfortless ; I will 
 come to" you." He has there seen that large 
 building for the schools, which was the result 
 of that pastor's prayers and faith, and which 
 he was to have opened on the day preceding 
 
THE REV. J. C. RIEU. 37 
 
 his death. Though a whole twelvemonth 
 had elapsed, he found that church still mourn- 
 ing for their pastor, and saw the faces of the 
 venerable elders bathed in tears while they 
 spoke of him. "When you write to the 
 mother of my pastor," said an aged matron, 
 who never left him during his illness, and 
 with her own hands performed for him the 
 last sad offices, "tell her that there is one 
 woman at Fredericia whose grief is equal to 
 her own." He has seen that the name of 
 Rieu is engraven on every heart, and vene- 
 rated by every inhabitant, from the least to 
 the greatest. He has witnessed the blessed 
 fruits of his ministry. He has seen the old 
 man on his bed of anguish, fixing all his 
 hope on that Saviour whom this faithful pas- 
 tor had taught him to know, and has beheld 
 the young man filled with ardent desire, even 
 at the very commencement of his career, su- 
 premely to love that Saviour, and devote his 
 life to his service. 
 
 DR. MERLE d'auBIGNE's NOTICE OF RIEU. 
 
 EXTRACTED PROM " GERMAKT, EKGLAJfD, A?fD SC0TLANI1 ; 
 OR RECOLLECTIONS OF A SWISS MINISTER." 
 
 After having remained in the cheerless 
 principles of Unitarianism until nearly the 
 conclusion of my studies at the academy of 
 Geneva, I had been seized by the word of 
 
 4 
 
38 DR. MERLE D AUBIGNE's 
 
 God. I had believed in the divinity of the 
 Saviour, in original sin, the power of which 
 I had experienced in my own heart, and in 
 justification by faith. I had experienced the 
 joys of the new birth. I was yet, however, 
 weak : I was willing to take up the cross of 
 Christ ; but I preferred regarding it as wis- 
 dom rather than foolishness. It was at this 
 time that I arrived in Germany. Every 
 theological journal I read, every book I 
 looked into, almost every one, both ministers 
 and laymen, whom I met, were affected with 
 Rationalism, so that the poison of infidelity 
 was presented to me on all sides. 
 
 " I then entered upon a fearful spiritual 
 struggle, defending with my whole strength 
 my still feeble faith, yet sometimes falling 
 under the blows of the enemy. I was in- 
 wardly consumed. There was not a moment 
 in which I was not ready to lay down my 
 life for the faith I professed ; and never did 
 I ascend the pulpit without being able to 
 proclaim, with fulness of faith, salvation by 
 Jesus. But scarcely had I left it, when the 
 enemy assailed me anew, and inspired my 
 mind with agonizing doubts. I passed whole 
 nights without sleep, crying to God from the 
 bottom of my heart, or endeavouring, by 
 arguments and syllogisms without end, to 
 repel the attacks of the adversary. Such 
 were my combats during those weary watch- 
 ings, that I almost wonder how 1 did not 
 sink under them. 
 
NOTICE OF RIEU. 39 
 
 "It happened at this time (1819) that a 
 friend of mine,* settled in Paris, was on the 
 point of visiting Copenhagen, where his 
 mother's family resided. Another friend of 
 ours, Charles Rieu, was the pastor of Fred- 
 ericia in Jutla,nd. We were all three Gene- 
 vese ; we had studied together at Geneva ; 
 and had come at the same time to the 
 knowledge of the truth, although Rieu had 
 outstripped us in all respects, especially in 
 the simplicity of his faith and devotedness to 
 the Lord. We agreed to travel together to 
 Copenhagen, and to meet at Kiel the capital 
 of Holstein. 
 
 " As steam-boats were not at that time very 
 regular, we had to wait some days for the 
 one in which my friends and I intended 
 proceeding to Copenhagen. We were staying 
 at an hotel, and used to spend part of our 
 time in reading the word of God together. 
 M. Monod and I chose Rieu for our chap- 
 lain. He was an ear of corn which the Lord 
 had early brought to full maturity, and 
 which was soon after carried to the ever- 
 lasting garner. Two 3^ears after, I wept 
 over his grave, amidst his desolate flock, 
 with whom I celebrated the death of the 
 Lord. I was at this time at Kiel, enjoying 
 my last converse with this much esteemed 
 friend. We all three communicated to each 
 other our thoughts on reading the word, but 
 it was Rieu who most abundantly brought 
 out the hidden riches of the book of God. 
 
 " We were studying the Epistle to the 
 
 • The Rev. Frederic Monod. 
 
40 DR. MERLE d'aUBIGNE'S 
 
 Ephesians, and had got to the end of the 
 third chapter, when we read the two last 
 verses: "Now unto him wiio is able to do 
 exceeding abundantly above all that we ask 
 or think, according to the power that work- 
 eth in us, unto him be glory," &c. This 
 expression fell upon my soul as a mighty 
 revelation from God. " He can do by his 
 power," I said to myself, " above all that we 
 ask, above all even that we think, nay, 
 exceeding abundantly above all !" A full 
 trust in Christ for the work to be done 
 within my poor heart now filled my soul. 
 We all three knelt down, and, although I 
 had never fully confided to my friends my 
 inward struggles, (for I dared not make 
 them known to any but to God alone,) the 
 prayer of Rieu was filled with such admira- 
 ble faith, as he would have uttered had he 
 known all my wants. When I arose, in 
 that inn room at Kiel, I felt as if my "wings 
 were renewed as the wings of eagles." 
 From that time forward I comprehended 
 that my own syllogisms and efforts were of 
 no avail ; that Christ was able to do all by 
 his "power that worketh in us;" and the 
 habitual attitude of my soul was to lie at the 
 foot of the cross, crying to him, "Here am 
 I, bound hand and foot, unable to move, 
 unable to do the least thing to get away 
 from the enemy who oppresses me. Do all 
 thyself I know that thou wilt do it, thou 
 •wilt even do exceeding abundantly above all 
 that I ask." 
 
NOTICE OF RIEU. 41 
 
 « I was not disappointed. All my doubts 
 were soon dispelled, and not only was I 
 delivered from that inward anguish which in 
 the end would have destroyed me, had not 
 God been faithful ; but the Lord "extended 
 unto me peace like a river/^* Then I could 
 "comprehend with all saints what is the 
 breadth, and length, and depth, and height ; 
 and know the love of Christ which passeth 
 knowledge."-]- Then was I able to say, 
 " Return unto thy rest, my soul ; for the 
 Lord hath dealt bountifully with thee.'':j: 
 
 * Isaiah Ixvi. 12. -j-Eph. iii. 18, 19. ^ Psalm cxvi. 7. 
 
MEMOIR 
 
 OP 
 
 THE REV. JOHN CAMPBELL. 
 
 This truly excellent man was born at Ed- 
 inburgh in 1766. His father, who was a 
 native of Killin, and an individual of great 
 piety, died when John, the youngest son, 
 was only two years old. Thus deprived of 
 the care of one parent, the children, three 
 sons, were thrown upon the sole charge of 
 their widowed mother, who, however, sur- 
 vived her husband only four years. On the 
 death of their mother, the three orphan chil- 
 dren went as boarders into the house of their 
 uncle, Mr. Bowers of Edinburgh, " a pious 
 and judicious Christian, who was an elder or 
 deacon of the Relief Church." Placed 
 under such guardianship, the utmost attention 
 was paid not merely to the domestic comfort, 
 but to the religious training of the young 
 Campbells. John was educated along with 
 his brothers at the High School, then under 
 the rectorship of Dr. Adam, and he appears 
 to have made considerable proficiency in the 
 acquisition of classical knowledge, though, 
 from failing to pursue such studies, in after 
 years his acquaintance with the languages 
 42 
 
THE REV. JOHN CAMPBELL. 43 
 
 of antiquity was by no means such as might 
 have been expected from his early advan- 
 tages. From his childhood he was charac- 
 terised by habits of enterprise, and he was 
 often accustomed to tell that his uncle thought 
 him an unpromising scholar, because he was 
 fonder of rambling about the Salisbury 
 Crags, or of building turf huts, like the Afri- 
 cans, in the garden, than of attending to his 
 lessons. The same disposition continued 
 with him through life. He delighted in 
 travelling, and the ample scope which he 
 afterwards found for this propensity in the 
 wilds of Africa, seemed to give fresh vigour 
 and force to his active mind. 
 
 Under his uncle's roof, young Campbell 
 was reared with a peculiar view to the for- 
 mation of a decidedly religious character. 
 
 At this time Mr. Campbell was an appren- 
 tice to a goldsmith and jeweller in Edinburgh, 
 and in this situation he conducted himself 
 with the most exemplary fidelity and con- 
 scientiousness. Still, by his own confession, 
 though he had enjoyed many religious ad- 
 vantages in his uncle's house, he was addict- 
 ed in his boyish days to profane swearing. 
 This, however, never settled into a habit ; 
 and, by the blessing of God upon the pious 
 instructions and example of Mr. Bowers, he 
 was led to forsake the company and the 
 practices of those wicked associates who 
 strove to ensnare him. The death of his 
 uncle appears to have made a deep irripres- 
 sion upon his mind. He began to be more 
 
44 MEMOIR OF 
 
 in earnest upon the subject of religion, and 
 he strenuously endeavoured to acquire such 
 a state of holiness as would recommend him 
 to the Divine favour. In all this, he was 
 seeking to establish a righteousness of his 
 own, while he was neglecting to submit him- 
 self to the righteousness of God. He now 
 set himself to study Dr. Doddridge's " Rise 
 and Progress of Religion in the Soul." At 
 the same time, he read Bunyan's " Grace 
 Abounding to the Chief of Sinners." 
 Neither of these well known treatises pro- 
 duced the desired effect upon his mind. He 
 imbibed erroneous conceptions of the salva- 
 tion of God, and he was kept in a most un- 
 happy state of mind for nearly two years. 
 As he advanced in the knowledge of the 
 Scriptures, his views became clearer and 
 more completely in accordance with Divine 
 truth. For a long period, however, he was 
 unwilling to recognise a crucified Saviour, 
 as the only ground of his hope. From this 
 condition of legal bondage, he was gradually 
 delivered, chiefly by a careful and prayer- 
 ful study of the Bible, and intercourse with 
 pious acquaintances. A description of one 
 of these worthy men is thus given in JNIr. 
 Campbell's own language : — 
 
 " I never met with two persons exactly 
 alike, whether Christians or not ; shades of 
 difference are perceptible, even where there 
 is the nearest approach to resemblance. I 
 have taken the pen to tell you a few things 
 concerning a venerable man of God, the out- 
 
THE REV. JOHN CAMPBELL. 45 
 
 lines of whose character differed from all I 
 ever knew; and perhaps you will be sur- 
 prised to hear that he was a ganger (or ex- 
 cise officer), an employment as much des- 
 pised, in those days, in the north, as that of 
 the publicans, or tax-gatherers, by the Jews 
 in the days of our Lord. When his piety 
 became generally known in the town where 
 he hved, he had the honour of being distin- 
 guished by the appellation of ' The Praying 
 Gausfer !' In reference to his beinor a man 
 of prayer, perhaps you will be startled at a 
 remark I heard made by one of liis most 
 intimate and oldest acquaintances, — ^ That 
 he beUeved Duncan Clark (for that was his 
 name) had not for the last forty years slept 
 two hours without engaging in prayer.' This 
 was the nearest approach to literal obedience 
 to the apostolic injunction, ^ Pray without 
 ceasing,' that I ever read or heard of. Was 
 not such an one in downright earnest to ob- 
 tain the blessings of salvation ? 
 
 " He was the first person to whom I opened 
 my case, when I was greatly alarmed about 
 the state of my soul before God. I wrote to 
 him a very simple letter, which he first 
 showed to some of his intimates, for their 
 opinion, and then wrote a cautious, brief 
 answer, which he did not send off by post, 
 but actually brought himself, and dehvered 
 into my hands in Edinburgh. He explained 
 his doing so, by telling me that he had been 
 at Dunfermline sacrament, to which place he 
 carried it ; and while there, he thought that, 
 
46 MEMOIR OF 
 
 being within fifteen miles of Edinburgh, he 
 would just walk to it, and have a little con- 
 versation, as well as deliver the letter. He 
 had walked more than twenty miles to the 
 sacrament. He walked thus to save his 
 money for the poor. He was accustomed to 
 gather together the smallest crumbs on the 
 table, opposite to where he sat, and to put 
 them into his mouth ; very probably in obe- 
 dience to our Lord's orders, ^ Gather up the 
 fragments, that nothing may be lost.' '' 
 
 Amid the severe conflict to which ]\Ir. 
 Campbell was subjected, he was held in high 
 esteem by many eminent Christians, and 
 spent most of his leisure hours in visiting the 
 sick and dying poor. At length, in 17S9, he 
 began to think of dedicating himself to the 
 service of God, in the work of the ministry. 
 On this subject he consulted the Rev. Thomas 
 Scott, the commentator, who was not un- 
 favourable to the proposal. 
 
 Mr. Campbell did not act upon this advice 
 for several years subsequent to the date of 
 this letter ; but he still continued to do all 
 the good in liis power. About this time he 
 became acquainted with the Rev. John New- 
 ton, with whom he regularly corresponded 
 for a long period. On all the stirring points 
 of the day, whether ecclesiastical or political, 
 he communicated his views to this excellent 
 man ; and the advices and judicious counsels 
 which he received in return, he felt to be 
 peculiarly valuable. From one of the letters 
 which formed a part of this correspondence, 
 
THE REV. JOHN CAMPBELL. 47 
 
 we quote a passage, descriptive of the great 
 change which, at length, after many years' 
 hard contest with conflicting doubts and 
 fears, took place in Mr. Campbell's views of 
 the Gospel scheme of salvation : — 
 
 "Upon the evening of the 26th day of 
 January, 1795, the Lord appeared as my 
 Deliverer. He commanded, and darkness 
 was turned into light. The cloud which 
 covered the mercy-seat fled away ! Jesus 
 appeared as he is ! My eyes were not turned 
 inward, but outward ! The Gospel was 
 the glass in which I beheld him. When 
 our Lord first visited Saul upon the highway, 
 he knew in a moment that it was the Lord. 
 So did I : such a change of views, feelings, 
 and desires, suddenly took place in my mind, 
 as none but the hand of an infinite Operator 
 could produce. Formerly I had a secret 
 fear that it was presumption in me to receive 
 the great truths of the Gospel ; now there 
 appeared no impediment — 1 beheld Jesus as 
 the speaker in his word, and speaking to 
 me. When he said, ' Come,' I found no 
 difiiculty in replying, '■ Yes, Lord ! thy par- 
 doned rebel comes.' If not the grace of 
 God, what else could efl'ect such a marvel- 
 lous change ? I chiefly viewed the atone- 
 ment of Jesus as of infinite value, as a price 
 paid for my redemption, and cheerfully ac- 
 cepted by the Father. I saw love in the 
 Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, all harmoniz- 
 ing in pardoning and justifying me. The 
 sight humbled and melted my soul. Look- 
 
48 MEMOIR OF 
 
 ing to what I felt was no hdp to my comfort ; 
 it came directly from God, through his 
 word." 
 
 The suddenness of this gracious delive- 
 rance may appear startUng to many readers ; 
 but we ought ever to remember, that the 
 Spirit is regulated by no certain and definite 
 modes of acting. He gives no account of 
 any of his matters. Some, as in the case 
 of the Philippian jailor, are suddenly, and in 
 a moment, called out of darkness into God's 
 marvellous light ; while others are gradually 
 and imperceptibly led to see and to embrace 
 the truth as it is in Jesus. Mr. Campbell 
 from this period felt that he had become a 
 partaker of that glorious liberty wherewith 
 Christ makes his people free. He had now 
 received the Spirit of adoption, whereby he 
 could cry, Abba, Father. 
 
 Mr. Campbell was naturally of a humane 
 and benevolent disposition. He delighted to 
 search out, and, as far as possible, to relieve, 
 cases of distress ; and, for this purpose, often 
 did he repair to the dark and dirty hovels of 
 the poor, warning, reproving, exhorting, or 
 consoling, as the circumstances seemed to 
 warrant. That he might be the means of 
 doing good more extensively, he published 
 and distributed tracts, thus diflusing the truth 
 as widely as possible. 
 
 His next scheme for the advancement of 
 religion was the establishment of Sabbath 
 schools, of which very few then existed in 
 Scotland. He accordingly opened one of 
 
THE REV. JOHN CAMPBELL. 49 
 
 these schools in the old Archer's Hall, on the 
 south skirts of Edinburgh, and, as the plan 
 succeeded to a wish, giving the highest satis- 
 faction to all concerned, he opened another 
 in the hall belonging to the Edinburgh Dis- 
 pensary. The teachers selected by Mr. 
 Campbell were, in both these cases, plain, 
 sensible, pious men, who understood their 
 Bible well, and instructed the children in the 
 essential truths of the Gospel. Encouraged 
 by his success, Mr. Campbell established a 
 Sabbath school in Loanhead, a village a few 
 miles distant from Edinburgh. This school, 
 which was attended by about 200 scholars, 
 he taught himself. The example soon 
 spread. Schools were opened in the village 
 of Bonnyriggs, in Dalkeith, Penicuick, and 
 other places. In all these exertions to do 
 good, Mr. Campbell received both counsel 
 and encouragement from the venerable 
 Countess of Leven, and indeed the whole 
 Balgownie family, and others of the Scotch 
 nobility. But while Sabbath schools were 
 thus beginning to be planted, and to prosper 
 in and around Edinburgh, they were almost 
 entirely unknown every where else in Scot- 
 land. To suggest the idea in other places, 
 Mr. Campbell set out on a week's tour, ac- 
 companied by his friend and coadjutor, Mr. 
 J. A. Haldane. Setting out one Monday 
 morning, they travelled to Glasgow, distri- 
 buting tracts to rich and poor as they pro- 
 ceeded along the road. In Glasgow, Paisley, 
 Greenock, and other towns in the west, they 
 
 5 
 
50 MEMOIR OF 
 
 succeeded in calling public attention to the 
 peculiar importance of the institution of 
 Sabbath schools ; and they had the high 
 gratification of learning, in three months 
 afterwards, that the result of one week's 
 exertion in itinerating for this great object, 
 had been the formation of sixty^ Sabbath 
 schools. 
 
 The next philanthropic plan to which IMr. 
 Campbell devoted his energies, was the in- 
 troduction of the preaching of the Gospel 
 into villages and districts which had long 
 been destitute of Divine ordinances. The 
 first place of this description which attracted 
 his notice, was the village of Gilmerton, in 
 the neighbourhood of Edinburgh. Here he 
 succeeded in establishing a regular Sabbath 
 evening service, which was supplied by stu- 
 dents of divinity and lay-preachers. JMr. 
 Joseph Rate led the way in this good work, 
 and was followed by Messrs Aikman, Ilal- 
 dane, and Campbell, who commenced their 
 exertions as lay-preachers in Gilmerton. 
 From this small beginning arose very impor- 
 tant results, which, in fact, gave rise to a 
 new era in the religious history of Scotland. 
 We quote Mr. Campbell's account of what 
 followed the selection of Gilmerton as a 
 preaching station : — 
 
 " By and by this sphere of usefulness be- 
 came too confined for them ; they began to 
 think of making a preaching tour over the 
 whole of Scotland, north of Edinburgh. In 
 the view of it, they commenced printing 
 
THE REV. JOHN CAMPBELL. 51 
 
 large editions of tracts for distribution on the 
 journey. They also purchased a strong 
 horse, and a roomy chaise, capable of con- 
 taining the three preachers, and portions of 
 their tracts. Those which they could not 
 take, were sent on before them to different 
 towns by carriers, &c. Meetings, to pray 
 for their success, were not neglected ; for 
 without the Divine blessing, all connected 
 with the journey were fully convinced that 
 no real permanent good wo aid be etfected. 
 The novelty of it excited very general atten- 
 tion ; for nothing of the kind had occcurred 
 in that country in the memory of man ; for 
 the short visits of George Whitefield, more 
 than a quarter of a century before, only ex- 
 tended to Edinburgh, Glasgow, and a few 
 other towns in their vicinity. They preached 
 in the open air in every town and large vil- 
 lage to the extreme north end of Scotland ; 
 and, crossing over to the Orkney Islands, 
 they proclaimed the glorious Gospel over 
 them ail." 
 
 That such varied and exciting labours 
 should have affected Mr. Campbell's health, 
 is not at all surprising. Besides attending 
 to his business as a hardware merchant — 
 visiting the poor, the sick and the dying — 
 preaching in the surrounding villages — teach- 
 ing and superintending Sabbath schools — he 
 carried on, at the same time, an extensive 
 correspondence with the leading religious 
 men and philanthropists of the day. In 
 vain did his venerated friend, the Countess 
 
52 MEMOIR OP 
 
 of Leven, warn him to beware of overtask- 
 ing his mind and body. He was young, 
 ardent, and zealous in the good work, and 
 he could scarcely be persuaded to spare him- 
 self. At length, however, painful necessity 
 compelled him to pause in his exertions for a 
 time ; but no sooner did he regain his* 
 strength, than he set out anew, with re- 
 doubled efforts, on his work and labour of 
 love. He soon saw the itinerating system, 
 which he had been the first to introduce, as- 
 sume a prominence in the public eye which 
 he had not anticipated ; and he never failed 
 to speak in the warmest terms, even in his old 
 age, of the unwearied labours of the Messrs. 
 Haldane in preaching the everlasting Gospel 
 throughout the whole extent of Scotland. 
 
 During his residence in Edinburgh, Mr. 
 Campbell was indefatigable in his etJbrts to 
 promote the cause of the Redeemer. He 
 visited the sick — examined into and relieved, 
 as far as he possibly could, the destitute and 
 friendless — established and superintended 
 Sabbath schools — preached in the surround- 
 ing villages — distributed tracts — wrote small 
 books, for the instruction of the young. 
 " Soldiers and sailors," says his biographer, 
 " wrote to him for advice ; the needy and 
 greedy, for money ; the reclaimed outcasts, 
 for prayer and counsel ; dark villages, for 
 itinerants ; and chapel builders, for help ; 
 besides those who ordered their missionary 
 magazines, books, and Scott's Commentary, 
 and paid their accounts through him." 
 
THE REV. JOHN CAMPBELL. 53 
 
 The acceptance which Mr. Campbell met 
 with as a village preacher, led him to think 
 of devoting himself wholly to the good 
 work. He had been accustomed to associate 
 with the godly ministers of every evangeli- 
 cal denomination in Edinburgh, and he was 
 in intimate correspondence with the leading 
 ministers both in England and Scotland. At 
 the table of the late accomplished and ex- 
 cellent Rev. Dr. Buchanan, one of the minis- 
 ters of the Canongate, he met with many 
 distinguished men ; in reference to one of 
 whom, the late Lord Hailes, we find . him 
 narrating the following striking anecdote : — 
 
 " 1 remember distinctly an interesting anec- 
 dote referring to the late Sir David Dalrymple 
 (better known to literary men abroad by his 
 title of Lord Hailes), a Scotch Judge. I had 
 it from the late Rev. Walter Buchanan, one 
 of the ministers of Edinburgh. I took such 
 interest in it, that though it must be about 
 fit^ty years ago since he told it, 1 think I can 
 almost relate it in Mr. Buchanan's own 
 words: 
 
 " ' 1 was dining some time ago with a 
 literary party at old Mr. Abercrombie's 
 (father of General Abercrombie who was 
 slain in Egypt, at the head of the British 
 army), and we were spending the evening 
 together. A gentleman present put a ques- 
 tion which puzzled the whole company. It 
 was this : Supposing all the New Testaments 
 in the world had been destroyed at the end 
 of the third century, could their contents 
 
 5* 
 
54 MEMOIR OF 
 
 have been recovered from the writings of 
 the first three centuries ? The question was 
 novel to all, and no one even hazarded a 
 guess in answer to the inquiry. 
 
 " « About two months after this meeting, I 
 received a note from Lord Hailes, inviting 
 me to breakfast with him next morning. 
 He had been of the party. During breakfast 
 he asked me if I recollected the curious 
 question about the possibility of recovering 
 the contents of the New Testament from the 
 writings of the first three centuries ? ' I re- 
 member it well, and have thought of it often 
 without being able to form any opinion or 
 conjecture on the subject.' 
 
 " * Well,' said Lord Hailes, ' that question 
 quite accorded with the turn or taste of my 
 antiquarian mind. On returning home, as 1 
 knew I had all the writers of those centuries, 
 I began immediately to collect them, that I 
 might set to work on the arduous task as 
 soon as possible.' Pointing to a table 
 covered with papers, he said, < There have I 
 been busy for these two months, searching 
 for chapters, half chapters, and sentences of 
 the New Testament, and have marked down 
 what I have found, and where I have found 
 it ; so that any person may examine and see 
 for themselves. I have actually discovered 
 the whole New Testament from those writ- 
 ings, except seven or eleven verses (1 forget 
 which), which satisfies me that I could dis- 
 cover them also. Now,' said he, ' here was 
 a way in which God concealed, or hid the 
 
THE REV. JOHN CAMPBELL. 55 
 
 treasure of his Word, that Julian, the apos- 
 tate emperor, and other enemies of Christ 
 who wished to extirpate the Gospel from 
 the world, never would have thought of; 
 and though they had, they never could have 
 effected their destruction.' " 
 
 When Mr. Campbell had at length formed 
 his resolution to serve God in the work of 
 the ministry, he repaired to Glasgow, where 
 he studied under the Rev. Greville Ewing, 
 who had shortly before left the Established 
 Church and joined the Independents. Here 
 Mr. Campbell's mind found ample scope for 
 its exertion. Not only did he diligently 
 prosecute his theological and classical studies, 
 but " during all the time he was at Glas- 
 gow," we are informed by his biographer, 
 " he was absorbed with the cause of Home 
 and Foreign Missions, and keeping up his 
 extensive correspondence, as well as preach- 
 ing or teaching almost every day.'^ 
 
 His desire to do good was unbounded ; 
 and, as an instance, we may quote the fol- 
 lowing statement in his own language : — 
 
 " I remember a young woman calling on 
 me, that I might answer a letter her mother 
 had just received from her son. ' At the 
 time of my father's death,' said she, ^ my 
 brother was a very thoughtless young man. 
 Instead of helping her, he sold every thing 
 he could lay his hands on ; after which, he 
 left us, and became a sailor. He tells us, 
 that afterwards he was pressed, and put on 
 board the Barfleur, of ninety-eight guns : 
 
56 MEMOIR OF 
 
 that some society had furnished him and 
 others with a copy of the Scriptures, — which 
 he had carefully read, and had thereby been 
 brought to a conviction of the sinfulness of 
 his past conduct, and repentance for it ; that 
 he had besought, and hoped he had obtained 
 God's forgiveness, but he could not have 
 peace till he had obtained his mother's also, 
 for the great wrongs he had done her. He 
 also solicited her advice.' It was that I 
 might fulfil this last request, that she brought 
 his letter to me. I wrote a letter, containing 
 the best counsels I could offer, and sent it off 
 to him, on board the Barfieur, at that time 
 lying in Cansand Bay. In about a fortnight 
 I received a letter from eight sailors, includ- 
 ing himself, who had all been affected in the 
 same wa}^, by reading the word of God, 
 and who often met together for reading and 
 prayer ; and they requested I should write 
 a letter addressed to them all, as a united 
 band, which I soon did, and sent off; but as 
 the fleet had sailed on a cruize ofl' the coast 
 of France, I heard no more from them for 
 perhaps three montiis, when a letter did 
 come, from twenty-four sailors, to which 
 number the little band had increased during 
 the interval ; and these expressed a desire 
 that I should address a general letter to the 
 whole ; and if there was any particular book 
 I would wish them to have, that I would 
 mention it in the letter. They also informed 
 nie that a similar work had taken place on 
 board the Thunderer, and the Terrible, of 
 
THE REV. JOHN CAMPBELL. 57 
 
 seventy-four guns. I did address a letter to 
 the twenty-four, and said, that if the fleet 
 should happen to put into Portsmouth, if any 
 of them would call on the Rev. Dr. Bogue, 
 with my compliments, he would most readily 
 do what he could for them. I knew of 
 none more capable of giving advice. 
 
 "The peace with France in 1802 took 
 place a short time after sending off this, and 
 a great part of the navy was paid off, and 
 , the seamen scattered in every direction ; and 
 ^ left Glasgow, so I never heard any more 
 ^ f the fruits of that charming display of the 
 /grace of God towards those poor sailors." 
 No sooner had Mr. Campbell entered upon 
 the new sphere of duty to which he was 
 now called, than he set himself to devise 
 plans for the spiritual benefit of his people. 
 His attention was first directed to the instruc- 
 tion of the young. For their improvement, 
 he set on foot " The Youth's Magazine ;" a 
 publication which has been blessed to the 
 diffusion of much useful knowledge among 
 a large mass of juvenile readers. Mr. 
 Campbell was editor of the first ten volumes ; 
 it was then committed to the charge of a 
 small committee, who still continue to super- 
 intend it. 
 
 In the year 1805, though he had only been 
 a few months in his new charge at Kings- 
 land, Mr. Campbell spent four months in a 
 preaching tour throughout various parts of 
 Scotland. Long as this journey was, he 
 
58 MEMOIR OP 
 
 made another into the Western Highlands in 
 the summer of the next year. 
 
 The period at which Mr. Campbell settled 
 in London was one of peculiar activity in 
 the religious world, and he was therefore 
 called upon to take a part in the formation 
 of various associations for Christian and 
 philanthropic purposes, which were then 
 formed. He was one of the favoured few 
 who were privileged to be the founders of 
 the British and Foreign Bible Society, of the 
 London Hibernian Society, and of the Fe- 
 male Penitentiary. In every one of the 
 religious movements of the time he took an 
 active part. But while thus busily employ- 
 ed in promoting the best interests of his fel- 
 low-men, he had to betake himself to the 
 drudgery of keeping a school at Kingsland, 
 in order to procure a subsistence for his own 
 support. The income derived from his con- 
 gregation was small, and he found it neces- 
 sary to resort to this expedient for the pur- 
 pose of enlarging his income. 
 
 While thus discharging, at one and the 
 same time, two laborious offices — those of a 
 pastor and an instructor of youth — he was 
 suddenly, and almost unexpectedly, called 
 upon to occupy a very important work in 
 connection with the London INIissionar}'' So- 
 ciety. That useful institution had been de- 
 prived, in the mysterious arrangements of 
 Providence, of one of their most efficient 
 agents in South Africa, the laborious and de- 
 
THE REV. JOHN CAMPBELL. 59 
 
 voted Vanderkemp ; and, in consequence of 
 this melancholy event, both the Hottentot 
 and Caffre Mission had been reduced to a 
 very critical state. In these circumstances, 
 the Society resolved to send out a represen- 
 tative to inspect the actual condition of their 
 missions in South Africa, and make such ar- 
 rangements as might be deemed most pru- 
 dent. Mr. Campbell was fixed upon to dis- 
 charge this responsible office ; and, after 
 mature deliberation and earnest prayer for 
 Divine direction and counsel, he consented 
 to undertake the mission. Supply having 
 been procured for his church at Kingsland, 
 and for his school, he was set apart to his 
 new ministry in Miles' Lane Chapel. The 
 venerable Dr. Waugh presided on the occa- 
 sion, and the charge which he delivered pro- 
 duced a most electrifying effect upon the 
 audience. The closing sentences of the 
 discourse were singularly beautiful. They 
 ran thus : — 
 
 ^' Conld I place the prophet Isaiah at the 
 base of one of the lofty mountains in ilfrica, 
 which you, my brother, are about to visit ; 
 and if, whilst gazing on its varied scenery, an 
 earthquake were to rock it upon its deep 
 foundations, until, like the Numidian lion 
 shaking the dew-drops of the land of Ham 
 from his mane in the morning, it threw off 
 from its hoary and heaving sides the forests, 
 and flocks, and hamlets of huts, and chffs 
 crowned with lichens and lign-aloes ; and 
 were a whirlwind to rush in at that moment, 
 
60 MEMOIR OF 
 
 scattering the broken and falling masses in 
 mid air, as if playing with the sa}id-c\ouds 
 and columns of the desert ; still, the voice 
 of the prophet, could it be heard amJdst the 
 convulsive war of elements, would exclaim, 
 < Though the everlasting mountains bow, 
 and the perpetual hills be scattered, yet will 
 I rejoice in the Lord, and joy in the God of 
 my salvation !' Go, my brother, and do 
 thou the same, whatever dangers thou mayst 
 meet m Africa. As God was with Vander- 
 kemp, so will he be with thee, Campbell." 
 
 On uttering these words, the aged minister 
 of Christ suddenly sat down, and buried his 
 face in his hands. Under the influence of 
 this striking appeal, Mr. Campbell set sail for 
 Africa on the 24th June, 1 SI 2, in a ship 
 bound for Calcutta. After a somewhat 
 tedious voyage, he arrived at Cape-Town, 
 Cape of Good Hope. It is unnecessary for 
 us to detail the particulars ot this visit to 
 Africa, a narrative of which has been long 
 in the hands of the public. Suffice it to say, 
 that he minutely examined the various mis- 
 sion stations in South Africa, travelling about 
 three thousand miles, in a savage country, 
 amid dangers and difficulties of every kind. 
 In the good providence of God, INIr. Camp- 
 bell was preserved in perfect health and 
 safety, and arrived in London in the begin- 
 ning of May 1814, after an absence from 
 England of scarcely two years. 
 
 No sooner had he returned to London, than 
 he resumed his labours both in tiie chapel and 
 
THE REV. JOHN CAMPBELL. 61 
 
 in the school. In all the public societies he 
 took a warm interest, striving by his exertions 
 and his prayers to advance the great cause in 
 which he so much delighted. Little more 
 than four years elapsed, however, when he 
 again set sail for Africa on a similar errand 
 as his former, accompanied by Dr. Philip, an 
 active and influential Independent minister 
 from Aberdeen. This second visit to Africa 
 seems to have been peculiarly gratifying to 
 the mind of our traveller. The influence of 
 missions in promoting the progress of civili- 
 zation and refinement had become quite ap- 
 parent. Where he had formerly found igno- 
 rance, and immorality, and savage cruelty, 
 he was now refreshed with the sight of an 
 educated, industrious, and happy people. 
 
 After an absence from England of about 
 two years and a half, Mr. Campbell reached 
 London in time for the May meetings of 
 1S21. He was quite the lion of the day, 
 and both in the metropolis and throughout 
 the provinces his presence at missionary 
 meetings created a great sensation. Multi- 
 tudes flocked to hear his racy, humorous an- 
 ecdotes of the Hottentots and Bushmen in 
 South Africa. Even in his sermons, occa- 
 sional allusions were made throughout the 
 whole of his future life to his African travels. 
 His popularity, however, produced no inju- 
 rious effect upon him ; he still continued the 
 same modest, unpretending man he had 
 always been. 
 
 Shortly after he had resumed his duties at 
 6 
 
62 MEMOIR OP 
 
 Kingsland Chapel, he entered into the mar- 
 ried state. This step, to all his friends, af- 
 forded much gratification, promising as it did 
 to enhance his domestic happiness. He had 
 hitherto Uved with an aunt and a niece, wlio 
 had been both of them remarkably attentive 
 and kind. His aunt, however, having died, 
 and his niece been comfortably married, he 
 felt himself compelled to take refuge in the 
 matrimonial state. When Mr. Campbell had 
 gratified the country at large by his African 
 visits, he was apphed to by the Missionary 
 Society to visit in the same way their Poly- 
 nesian Missions. This proposal, however, 
 he declined, at least for the present. Now 
 settled at home, he set himself to an abridg- 
 ment of his African Travels, in two small 
 volumes, for the Tract Society, adding to 
 them a similar volume, giving an account of 
 his voyages. A small, unpretending, but 
 useful little book followed, entitled '' African 
 Light;" the object of which v/as to illustrate 
 passages of Scripture, by a reference to his 
 own observations in South Africa. The 
 work is in small compass, but it illustrates no 
 fewer than Jive hundred passages in the 
 Sacred Volume. 
 
 Notwithstanding the laborious life through 
 which he passed, Mr. Campbell enjoyed re- 
 markably good health until he was nearly 
 seventy years of age. At that period, how- 
 ever, he began to decline. His medical at- 
 tendant recommended a visit to Scotland. 
 This was productive of much good ; and he 
 
THE REV. JOHN CAMPBELL. 63 
 
 returned so improved in health, as to resume 
 his usual duties. A change was now per- 
 ceptible in his pulpit discourses as well as in 
 his private conversation. He was evidently 
 ripening for heaven. An account of his 
 last days is thus given by his colleague and 
 successor, the Rev. T. Aveling : — 
 
 '^ From lb21, up to the time of his removal 
 from earth, he remained with his people, 
 gathering around him a band of friends who 
 loved him, and now mourn his departure 
 from their midst. Their attachment towards 
 him was evinced by the institution of an 
 evening lecture, to relieve him from a third 
 service, which continued until within the 
 last two years. Some time before that, a 
 proposition was made that permanent help 
 should be afforded him by a co-pastor. To 
 this he most cheerfully assented, desiring to 
 see his people fixed with a successor before 
 he died. Arrangements to that effect were 
 made, and a co-pastor was obtained. When 
 this had been done, he seemed to turn his 
 thoughts more than ever towards his Father's 
 home, and the language of his heart was, 
 « Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart 
 in peace.' He saw a prosperous Church, 
 and a united people ; and v/as permitted to 
 witness the accomplishment of an object 
 which of late had much engaged his thoughts 
 — the choice of three additional deacons, to 
 assist the venerable and esteemed brethren 
 who had grown grey in their Master's ser- 
 vice. 
 
64 MEMOIR OF 
 
 " It now remains for me to give you a 
 very brief account of the last few days of 
 his hfe : — 
 
 " For six months past he had been visibly 
 declining, and his whole deportment evinced 
 increasing spirituality of mind in an eminent 
 degree. During that time he had been much 
 engaged in writing the memorials of the 
 chief events of his life ; and the exercise 
 often cheered him, as it carried him back in 
 memory to the scenes of his childhood, and 
 the friends of his youth and riper years. 
 
 " The declining state of his health, to 
 which I have alluded as visible during the 
 last six months, did not assume any alarming 
 appearance until the second week in March. 
 He was present at the united sacrament of 
 the three Churches, when he presided. This 
 was his last public service. There was an 
 imction about his address, which struck most 
 of his people, as did the last discourse he 
 delivered, on the first Sabbath evening in the 
 month ; but there were also indications of 
 extreme debility, which were remarked by 
 many, and a fear expressed that they should 
 see his face no more. 
 
 " On Thursday, March 12th, he felt very 
 ill, and wrote for advice to his medical friend, 
 Dr. Conquest, who kindly and promptly at- 
 tended to his request. He rallied a little 
 before Sunday, and although much pressed 
 to remain at home, he attended public wor- 
 ship in the morning, fearing, lie said, * lest 
 his flock should be alarmed about him.' 
 
THE REV. JOHN CAMPBELL. 65 
 
 That service was the last at which he was 
 present. 
 
 " The following week his debility again 
 / returned, and gradually increased ; and I be- 
 lieve he had then a kind of presentiment 
 that he would not recover. I enjoyed many 
 conversations with him during his illness, 
 and noted down some of his expressions as 
 he gave them utterance. They were indica- 
 tive of extreme self-abasement, and humble 
 reliance on the Saviour of sinners. 
 
 " I told him his people prayed very earn- 
 estly and affectionately for him. The tears 
 came into his eyes, and he said, ^ sir ! I 
 need it, I need it, 1 am a poor creature.' 
 He said his mind was much harassed by 
 Satan, who told him he had not done half 
 what he ought for his Master ; and when I 
 said, Depend upon it, sir, he would have 
 been very glad if you had not done half 
 what you have, he rephed, * Ah ! but I have 
 not done what I could.' Such were the low 
 viev/s he entertained of his labours in the 
 service of Christ. This harassment, how- 
 ever, which, in a great measure, was attri- 
 butable to his infirm state of body, speedily 
 ceased. 
 
 " On one occasion, speaking of the pre- 
 ciousness of the Saviour, he said, ' Oh ! I 
 love to be near the blood of sprinkhng ;' and 
 talked in an animated manner of the hap- 
 piness drawn from the consideration of the 
 unchangeableness of Christ. ^ All I want,' 
 said he, after we had been speaking of the 
 
 6* 
 
66 MEMOIR OP 
 
 Saviour's atonement, ^ is to feel my arm 
 round the cross.' I told him I doubted not 
 it was, and asked him if his heart was not 
 there. He smiled, and said, ^ Yes.' I told 
 him, then, that I believed his arm was too, 
 although a little benumbed with grasping 
 hard. He smiled again, and then spoke of 
 the wonderful love of God, in saving sinners 
 by such a sacrifice as that of his Son. 
 
 '^ On Wednesday, April 1st, he took to his 
 bed ; and on my saying to him, when I vis- 
 ited him, that I lioped he was happy, he 
 turned to me, and said, ' The debt is all paid ; 
 the sufferings of Christ have discharged it, 
 and therefore I am free, and have peace with 
 God.' From this time not a cloud obscured 
 his mind. He steadily dechned towards the 
 grave, but nothing hung around his setting 
 sun, or cast a shadow upon his hopes for the 
 future. 
 
 " On his death-bed he was not forgetful of 
 his ministerial character ; for, addressing a 
 beloved friend who stood by his side, he 
 said, calling her by name, ' Oh ! mind your 
 soul.' 
 
 " When asked if he believed he should go 
 to heaven, he said, ' I have no doubt of it/ 
 Broken sentences repeatedly fell from his 
 lips, such as, ' A full and free salvation,' — 
 * How softly the waters How ;' most probably 
 referring to his departure from earth, of 
 which he was at intervals, during the last 
 two days, quite conscious. When his mind 
 a little wandered, he talked of Africa, and 
 
THE REV. JOHN CAMPBELL. 67 
 
 missionary meetings, and friends with whom 
 he had been associated in them. 
 
 " April 3d, when I stood by his bed, he 
 recognised me, and said affectionately, alhid- 
 ing to our association in the ministry, ' We 
 have served as a father and a son in the 
 Gospel. Now God will be a Father to you.' 
 
 " The following day, on which he died, I 
 saw him in the morning, and leaning over 
 him, I heard him whisper, ' You see me in 
 peace.' These were the last words I heard 
 from his lips. During the day, while his be- 
 loved wife was standing by his side, for a 
 short time consciousness returned, and recog- 
 nising her, he said, ' Don't grieve ; there's 
 nothing melancholy in dying and going to 
 glory.' 
 
 " In the course of the day he was heard 
 exclaiming, ' Let it fly ! let the Gospel fly !' 
 — the spirit of the minister and the mission- 
 ary of Christ remaining to the last. Among 
 his last coherent sentences was a prayer for 
 his people and their junior pastor, ' Lord 
 bless the Church,' he exclaimed, ' and poor 
 Mr. Aveling.' 
 
 " At a quarter past six in the evening of 
 Saturday, it was evident that life was ebbing 
 fast, and his friends were summoned to his 
 bed-side to witness his departure. It was a 
 sacred scene : the spirit of a good and truly 
 great man was about to bid farewell to its 
 earthly abode, and return to the God who 
 gave it. To all, such an hour must be one 
 of deep solemnity and momentous interest ; 
 
68 MEMOIR OF REV. JOHN CAMPBELL. 
 
 to him it was the hour of triumphant joy. 
 The sun had just set, and the last gleams of 
 light, strugghiig through the window, fell 
 upon his bed. There was a sweet smile 
 passing over his countenance as the curtain 
 was removed ; and as the attendant bent 
 down over him, he drew two or three short 
 and rapid breaths, and then lay motionless 
 and silent. Again he breathed quickly and 
 smiled ; then heaved a gentle sigh, and all 
 was still once more. It was the stillness of 
 death. In the hush of the evening his hap- 
 py spirit had passed away. ' Precious in 
 the sight of the Lord is the death of his 
 saints.' " 
 
 Thus died this excellent and useful minis- 
 ter of Christ on the 4th of April 1840, at the 
 advanced age of seventy-four. His loss 
 was deeply felt by his congregation, his 
 friends and family. Few men have been 
 honoured to be more extensively useful in 
 their day and generation. JNIost disinterested 
 and generous, he kept his eye singly fixed 
 on the promotion of his Redeemer's glory. 
 To accomplish this grand object, he counted 
 no sacrifice too great to be made — no trials 
 too heavy to be endured — no expense of 
 time, of money, or of personal exertion, too 
 costly to be surrendered. He lived for 
 Christ, and having finished his work, he 
 sweetly fell asleep in Jesus. 
 
MEMOIR 
 
 OP 
 
 THE REV. PLINY FISK. 
 
 From the earliest period at which the atten- 
 tion of the Christian world was directed to 
 the subject of missions, it has been an object 
 of ambition to occupy Palestine, as a fitting 
 field on which to rear anew the standard of 
 the Cross. From the melancholy hour when 
 the inhabitants of that once sacred soil 
 crucified the Lord of Glory, nailing him to 
 the accursed tree, the land has been peculiarly 
 suffering under the weight of that fearful 
 sin ; and although the Redeemer, in his infi- 
 nite compassion, issued forth to his apostles 
 the merciful decree to go forth and preach 
 the Gospel, beginning at Jerusalem, the Jews 
 still continued to stumble on the same stumb- 
 ling-stone, until at length it broke them to 
 pieces. The cup of their iniquity became 
 full to the brim, the Spirit of God ceased to 
 strive with that rebellious and stiff-necked 
 people, and they were scattered to all the 
 ends of the earth, a proverb and a bye-word 
 among all nations. Palestine thenceforward 
 became the scene first of heathen idolatry, 
 then of Mussalman superstition, and down 
 
 69 
 
70 MEMOIR OP 
 
 to the present time it has been emphatically 
 the country where Satan's seat is, the chief 
 province of his empire, the most impregnable 
 of his strongholds. The very associations 
 connected with its scenery have been con- 
 verted into sources of the most unhallowed 
 will-worship and idolatry. Nowhere have 
 the finest feelings which God hath implanted 
 in our bosoms been turned into instruments 
 of greater rebellion against him. The 
 ground on which the Saviour trod, the well 
 on whose mouth he sat, the scene of his 
 agony, his crucifixion, his burial, — all have 
 been perverted into objects of superstitious 
 reverence, in utter opposition to the very 
 spirit which He himself inculcated ; and yet, 
 the very love which the Christian entertains 
 for his Lord, leads him to wish that the 
 scene of his journeyings while on earth, 
 should once more become the scene of the 
 sacred triumphs of his Gospel. Accordingly, 
 the Christian Church, when awakened to a 
 desire for the propagation of divine truth, 
 has often had its attention directed to the 
 Holy Land. It was not until the year ISIS, 
 that the American Church came to the reso- 
 lution of establishing a mission in that inte- 
 resting country. Pliny Fisk, the subject of 
 our present memoir, was one of the first 
 missionaries selected to occupy that impor- 
 tant station. His high qualifications pointed 
 him out as admirably fitted for the arduous 
 duties which were to devolve upon him. 
 He had not undertaken the ofiice rashly, or 
 
THE REV. PLINY FISK. 71 
 
 without due deliberation ; but strong in faith 
 and firm of purpose, he had devoted himself, 
 soul and body, to the service of his God ; 
 and though called upon to stand forward in 
 one of the high places of the field, he felt 
 that the post of danger was a post of honour, 
 and with unshrinking fortitude, therefore, he 
 advanced to the very front of the battle ; 
 and having fallen in his Master's service, he 
 is now in possession of his everlasting re- 
 ward. " To him that overcometh,'' says 
 our now glorified Redeemer, " will I grant to 
 sit with me on my throne, even as I also 
 overcame, and am set down with my Father 
 on his throne.'' 
 
 Pliny Fisk was born at Shelburne, in 
 Massachusetts, on the 24th June, 1792. His 
 parents, who were both of them marked by 
 simple and unostentatious piety, trained up 
 their children in the fear and love of Him 
 who hath said, " They that seek me early 
 shall find me." In early life Pliny exhibited 
 a mild, and amiable, and cheerful disposition. 
 To his parents he was affectionate, dutiful 
 and kind, while to his companions he was 
 remarkably friendly and obliging. He was 
 diligent in acquiring knowledge ; and the 
 quality which peculiarly characterised his 
 youthful years was unwearied application. 
 Whatever employment engaged his attention, 
 he permitted no difficulties to slacken his ex- 
 ertions, but continued perseveringly to labour 
 until he had accomplished his object. And 
 this was the feature of character which, 
 
72 MEMOIR OF 
 
 more than any other, shone conspicuous in 
 all the actions of his future Ufe. Undeterred 
 by the many discouragements which beset 
 his path, he never shrunk from carrying out 
 the plans which he had been led to form. 
 Where other men would have hesitated, he 
 was firm and decided. Where other men 
 would have been overcome by the force of 
 opposing obstacles, he rose above all difficul- 
 ties, strong in the Lord and in the power of 
 his might. 
 
 The instructions and example of his pious 
 parents were not lost upon young Fisk. 
 Even in childhood it was evident that his 
 tender heart was not insensible to the im- 
 pressions of religion. It was not, however, 
 till his sixteenth year that he began to rea- 
 hze the power of divine truth as bearing 
 upon his own personal character and condi- 
 tion. At that period he was seized with 
 deep convictions of sin, and intense anxiety 
 to find a solution to that all-important ques- 
 tion, — " What shall 1 do to be saved ?" 
 This season of inward struggle and searching 
 of heart lasted for several weeks, during 
 which he prayed often, read much, and fre- 
 quently attended religious meetings. At 
 length the Lord was pleased to speak the 
 word, and his servant was healed. " And 
 0," says he, ^* how sweet the joys of believ- 
 ing in Jesus ! what pleasure didst thou, my 
 soul, realize, when the light of God's coun- 
 tenance first shone upon thee ! What can 
 compare with the joy and peace of believing 
 
THE REV. PLINY FISK. 73 
 
 ill Jesus ? When compared with this, how 
 mean are all the pleasures which honour, 
 wealth, power and sensual gratification can 
 afford ! 
 
 ♦ Could I command the spacious earth, 
 
 And the more boundless sea, 
 For one blest hour at Thy ri^ht hand, 
 
 I'd give them both away.' " 
 
 The mind of young Fisk being now 
 brought to a firm and decided acceptance of 
 the offer of mercy held forth in the Gospel, 
 he made an open profession of faith, being 
 received as a communicant in the church of 
 his native town, under the pastoral care of 
 the Rev. Dr. Packard. He was from this 
 period desirous to be useful in conveying the 
 truth to others, and he very soon determined 
 on devoting himself to the work of the min- 
 istry. From the commencement of his stu- 
 dies he took a lively interest in the cause of 
 missions. The subject was new to the Ame- 
 rican churches, and from the moment that 
 Pliny Fisk had set his heart on being a mis- 
 sionary to the heathen, he kept this object in 
 view with undeviating constancy. Having 
 completed his preparatory studies, he offered 
 himself, in 1811, for admission to Middlebury 
 College, Vermont, and, after undergoing an 
 examination, he was admitted. 
 
 His college career was passed amid much 
 poverty and many difficulties, but the pro- 
 gress which he made in his studies was 
 highly creditable to himself and gratifying to 
 
74 MEMOIR OF 
 
 his teachers. Though in classical acquire- 
 ments he was rather deficient, he made great 
 proficiency in his mathematical pursuits. On 
 completing his academical course, he was 
 licensed to preach the Gospel in January, 
 1815, by the Franklin Association of Con- 
 gregational ministers. He was first called 
 to labour in Wilmington, Vermont. Here 
 he remained for eight months, discharging 
 the duties of a faithful minister of the Lord 
 Jesus. His pastoral visits to the families of 
 his flock were pecuHarly acceptable. Instead 
 of wasting his time on such occasions in de- 
 sultory and unprofitable talk, he directed the 
 whole conversation into the channel of reli- 
 gion, leading his hearers to reflect seriously 
 upon their eternal interests. He strove 
 habitually to convince them that religion was 
 a personal matter, in which every one was 
 individually and deeply interested. 
 
 Though thus diligent and acceptable in 
 his pastoral labours among the people of 
 Wilmington, he resolved to carry forward 
 his original purpose of devoting himself to 
 missionary work among the heathen. He 
 accordingly resumed his studies, entering the 
 Theological Seminary at Andover. Here 
 the pursuits in which he was called to en- 
 gage were peculiarly congenial to his feel- 
 ings, and he combined, with a diligent and 
 close attention to study, the maintenance of 
 habits of active piety. Daring the whole of 
 the three years which he spent at Andover, 
 his soul burned to enter the missionary field. 
 
THE REV. PLINY FISK. 75 
 
 He was not without temptations of a world- 
 ly nature to induce him to give up his design 
 of preaching the Gospel to the heathen. 
 But all these he stedfastly resisted, declaring, 
 that " if a man has devoted himself to the 
 service of Christ among the heathen, and is 
 accepted in this service, no church, no college, 
 no body of men, ought to ask him to stay 
 in this country," In this spirit he instituted 
 a strict examination into his duty in connec- 
 tion with the wish which he had entertained 
 since he was eighteen years of age : and 
 after a solemn heart-searching inquiry, he 
 wrote a communication to the American 
 Board of Missions, offering himself to be 
 employed under their direction in some part 
 of the heathen world. This offer was ac- 
 cepted, the Palestine Mission was established, 
 and Messrs. Fisk and Parsons were appoint- 
 ed to that station. 
 
 Before setting out, it was judged expedient 
 that Mr. Fisk should make a tour through 
 the southern section of the States, for the 
 purpose of collecting funds for missionary 
 objects, and interesting the people in the good 
 cause. In this work he spent a full year, 
 during which time he was instrumental in 
 awakening, in many different places, a lively 
 concern in the advancement of the Redeem- 
 er's kingdom. At the close of his itinerancy 
 m the Southern States, an opportunity 
 presented itself of sailing for Smyrna, on 
 his way to the scene of his labours. In 
 the prospect of his departure, he went to 
 
76 MEMOIR OF 
 
 Shelbiirne, for the purpose of paying a visit 
 to his aged father, and his other friends. 
 The scene was deeply affecting, but he was 
 strengthened to bear up under the painful 
 trial. The feelings which he experienced in 
 prospect of leaving his native shores, are 
 thus beautifully expressed in the concluding 
 passage of a sermon which he preached in 
 the South Church, Boston : — " Whether we 
 shall be buried in a watery tomb ; whether 
 disease shall bring us to an early grave ; 
 whether the suspicion of Government or the 
 bigotry of false religion shall shut the door 
 against us ; or whether a great and effectual 
 door shall be opened before us, and the word 
 of the Lord have free course and be glorified, 
 as it is with you ; whether we shall spend a 
 long life in labours, and die having only 
 sown the seed from which others may reap 
 the harvest ; or whether we shall see the 
 truth prevail, and die surrounded by converts 
 from error, who may soothe the bed of death, 
 and weep over our tomb ; — these are points 
 to be decided, not by human sagacity, but by 
 Him whose Providence calls us, whom we 
 v/ould cheerfully obey, and in whom we 
 v/ould trust for the future. The time has ar- 
 rived when we are called, by the Providence 
 of God, if its language is not altogether misun- 
 derstood, to leave the scenes of our child- 
 hood, and the country that is blessed, beyond 
 any other country imder heaven, with civil 
 and religious privileges, not to find other 
 privileges and friends like them in another 
 
THE REV. PLINY FISK. 7^7 
 
 land, but to meet the uncertainties and diffi- 
 culties attendant on a Christian mission 
 among Turks and Jews. If any circum- 
 stances can affect the mind in health, as it is 
 affected by a near prospect of death, it is per- 
 haps thus affected with the prospect of leav- 
 ing for life all who have ever been known, 
 and all that has ever been seen. This pros- 
 pect brings eternity near. It excites solici- 
 tude respecting that meeting which shall be 
 an eternal meeting, or a prelude to eternal 
 separation." 
 
 On Wednesday morning, November 3d, 
 1819, Mr. Fisk, and his colleague, Mr. Par- 
 sons, bade a last farewell to the land of their 
 birth. For some weeks he suffered much 
 from sea-sickness, but as soon as he recovered, 
 he devoted himself to study, in preparation 
 for the great work in which he was about to 
 be engaged. The ship touched at Malta in 
 the course of the voyage, and the missiona- 
 ries were treated with the utmost kindness 
 by the Rev. Mr. Jowett, from whom they 
 received letters of introduction to influential 
 gentlemen in Smyrna and Scio. These they 
 found to be particularly useful on their arrival 
 at Smyrna, where they resided for a few 
 months, after which they passed to Scio, for 
 the purpose of studying modern Greek, and 
 making inquiries and researches into the 
 state of the surrounding countries, and the 
 facilities which existed for the dissemination 
 of scriptural knowledge. After spending 
 about five months in that island, Messrs. 
 
 7* 
 
78 MEMOIR OF 
 
 Fisk and Parsons returned to Smyrna. They 
 now set out on a circuit of 300 miles, for the 
 purpose of visiting the places where once 
 stood the seven churches of Asia, and every- 
 where distributinor Bibles and tracts. The 
 spirit in which this journey was conducted 
 may appear from the following remarks, ex- 
 tracted from Mr. Fisk's journal, in speaking 
 of Ephesus : — 
 
 " I found on the plains of Ephesus some 
 Greek peasants, men and women, employed 
 in pulling up tares and weeds from the 
 wheat. It reminded me of Matt. xiii. 2S. 
 I addressed them in Romaic, but found they 
 understood very little of it, as they usually 
 answered me in Turkish. I ascertained, 
 however, that they all belonged to villages 
 at a distance, and came there to labour. Not 
 one of them could read, but they said there 
 were priests and a schoolmaster in the village 
 to which they belonged, who could read. I 
 gave them some tracts, which they promised 
 to give to their priests and schoolmaster. 
 Tournefort says, that when he was at Ephe- 
 sus there were thirty or forty Greek families 
 there. Chandler found only ten or twelve 
 individuals. Now no human being lives m 
 Ephesus ; and in Aiasaluck, which may be 
 considered as Ephesus under another name, 
 though not on precisely the same spot of 
 ground, there are merely a few miserable 
 Turkish huts. The candlestick is removed 
 out of his place. < How doth the city sit 
 solitary that was full of people.' 
 
THE REV. PLINY EISK. 79 
 
 *< While wandering among the ruins, it 
 was impossible not to think, with deep inte- 
 rest, of the events which have transpired on 
 this spot. Here has been displayed, from 
 time to time, all the skill of the architect, the 
 musician, the tragedian, and the orator. 
 Here some of the most splendid works of 
 man have been seen in all their glory, and 
 here the event has shown their transitory 
 nature. How interesting would it be to 
 stand among these walls, and have before 
 the mind a full view of the history of 
 Ephesus from its first foundation till now ! 
 VVe might observe the idolatrous and impure 
 rites, and the cruel and bloody sports of 
 Pagans, succeeded by the preaching, the 
 prayers, the holy and peaceable lives of the 
 first Christians — these Christians martyred, 
 but their religion still triumphing, — pagan 
 rites and pagan sports abolished, and the 
 simple worship of Christ instituted in their 
 room. We might see the city conquered and 
 reconquered, destroyed and rebuilt, till finally 
 Christianity, arts, learning, and prosperity, 
 all vanish before the pestiferous breath of 
 * the only people whose sole occupation has 
 been to destroy.' " 
 
 After much deliberation and prayer it was 
 resolved, that, with the view of still further ad- 
 vancing the interests of the mission, the two 
 colleagues should separate for a time, Mr. 
 Fisk remaining at Smyrna, pursuing study, 
 and making researches in the neighbourhood, 
 and Mr. Parsons travelling in Judea, visiting 
 
so riEIy.v'^Ixi OP 
 
 Jerusalem, and making inquiries as to the 
 most eligible place for a permanent mission- 
 ary establishment. It was, no doubt, a 
 severe trial to part with his only Christian 
 brother, but as duty seemed to call for such 
 a trial, he received grace to endure as seeing 
 Him who is invisible. Now that the whole 
 burden of missionary labour in Smyrna de- 
 volved upon him alone, he redoubled his ex- 
 ertions, distributing tracts, visiting the 
 schools, and in every way seeking to pro- 
 mote the cause of the Redeemer. In the 
 seam.en in the port of Smyrna he took a 
 deep interest, visiting every vessel, for the 
 purpose of religious conversation with the 
 sailors. 
 
 The depression of mind to which he was 
 occasionally subject on seeing so little fruit 
 of his labours, is apparent from the follow- 
 ing remarks, which occur in a letter to a 
 friend in America : — " ' Woe is me, that I 
 sojourn in Mesech, that I dwell in the tents 
 of Kedar.' Oh, my brother, it is dreadful to 
 be shut out from the Divine favour. I know 
 that God is ready to grant the light of his 
 countenance to all his faithful servants ; and 
 I trust that I sometimes enjoy it. I find in- 
 deed some moments of precious comfort. 
 But they are short ; and I generally live at 
 a miserable rate. I hope it is not so with 
 you. I hope you go to your closet, and find 
 the Redeemer there. I hope your soul is 
 sometimes greatly enlarged with a spirit of 
 intercession for others. When it is so, I 
 
THE REV. PLINY FISK. 81 
 
 know you do not forget us, and the mission 
 in which we are engaged. I think there 
 must be a great deal of earnest prayer for 
 this country, before missions will be attended 
 with general success. There are difficulties 
 in the way, toward the removal of which 
 we can at present do little or nothing but 
 pray. When God exerts his power, the 
 strong man will be disarmed. 
 
 " I love to be a missionary — love to labour 
 in this country. Still I am seldom able to 
 exercise that faith which is necessary, so 
 that I can look over the mountains and 
 through the clouds which surround us. I 
 am often full of fear and trembling. 1 anti- 
 cipate but little good to be accomplished at 
 present. Perhaps it may be seen at some 
 distant day, that these feeble and imperfect 
 beginnings were important parts of that 
 general system of means, by which the 
 world is to be converted. This hope some- 
 times comforts and animates me." 
 
 And again he adopts a similar strain in 
 the following letter, written about the same 
 period : — " The events of the past summer 
 have made me think often of an early death. 
 There is something which touches the mind 
 in a most tender and affecting manner in the 
 thought of leaving a mission, concerning 
 which so much has been said and done, and 
 in which so little has been effected. It must 
 be hard to give up plans and hopes to which 
 we have devoted ourselves, and on which 
 we have meditated, till they have engrossed 
 
82 MEMOIR OF 
 
 our whole mind. There is something very 
 solemn, too, in the thought of dying, of leav- 
 ing this world for ever, and all who are in it, 
 and all the privileges of probation ; of hav- 
 ing the soul depart for a new, untried resi- 
 dence ; and of becoming at once acquainted 
 with the full import of that awful word, 
 eternity. In anticipating such an event, we 
 need firm faith, and the consciousness of 
 having committed our soul most sincerely 
 and unreservedly into the hands of our Re- 
 deemer. 
 
 " Sometimes I hope that, should I be called, 
 I should be able to meet death as a Christian 
 ought. At other times I tremble at the 
 thought of dying. But I think we do not 
 honour our Saviour as we ought, unless we 
 receive his promises with such cordial confi- 
 dence, that we can think of death at all times 
 with composure, and triumph when it ap- 
 proaches. To feel, and speak, and act aright, 
 in respect to death, while in health, when 
 sick, and at the hour of dissolution, is a great 
 part of the Christian's duty, and one impor- 
 tant method of exhibiting the excellence and 
 value of true religion. Dear sister, may we 
 be prepared, so that the approach of the last 
 enemy may not alarm us, and so that we 
 may honour God by our dying behaviour. 
 
 " I perceive that I am filling up my sheet 
 with reflections on a gloomy subject, and 
 one which, to the gay and merry, would 
 seem very unsuitable to a letter. But to 
 you, I trust, it will seem neither unsuitable 
 
THE REV. PLINY FISK. 83 
 
 nor gloomy. With all its terrors, death to a 
 Christian is but deliverance from prison, and 
 admittance to his Father's house. Let us 
 then be diligent in our work, and wait with 
 holy expectation for the moment which shall 
 free us from sin, and admit us to the imme- 
 diate presence of our God." 
 
 The health of Mr. Parsons having suffered 
 from his residence in Judea, Mr. Fisk had 
 the satisfaction, after a year's separation, of 
 welcoming his brother back to Smyrna. It 
 was recommended that Mr. Parsons should 
 proceed to a warmer climate. Mr. Fisk 
 accordingly set out along with him to Egypt. 
 They left Smyrna on the 9th January, 1822. 
 After a stormy voyage of five days, they ar- 
 rived at Alexandria. While here, beside 
 watching by the bed of his beloved friend, 
 he took a particular interest in the spiritual 
 welfare of the Jews. He distributed among 
 them Hebrew tracts and Bibles, and wrote 
 to America urging that a missionary should 
 be sent without delay to labour chiefly among 
 the Jews. He had not been many weeks in 
 Alexandria, when the event took place, 
 which for some time he had dreaded, and 
 the Lord was pleased to deprive him of his 
 beloved colleague and companion. The 
 stroke, for some time, depressed and discou- 
 raged him. " For the present, at least," he 
 says, " my expectations of earthly happiness 
 seem to be destroyed." The following ac- 
 count of this melancholy event he gave in a 
 
84 MEMOIR OF 
 
 letter to a friend in America : — " His symp- 
 toms continued favourable till the day before 
 yesterday ; and our hopes were rather bright- 
 ened. Yesterday he was weaker than I had 
 ever seen him. My apprehensions respecting 
 a fatal termination of his disorder, were 
 greatly excited. He conversed on the sub- 
 ject with his usual serenity, referring the 
 event continually to the will of God, as he 
 has always been accustomed to do. Last 
 evening we spent a most precious hour in 
 reading the Scriptures, prayer, and conversa- 
 tion. We read John xiv., and conversed 
 some time about the 27th verse, ' Peace I 
 leave,' &c. After conversing about an hour, 
 I told him it was necessary that he should 
 stop and take some rest. He replied, ' I feel 
 as though I could converse two hours longer. 
 You don't know how refreshing these sea- 
 sons are to me.' He then fell asleep, and I 
 sat down to write. I soon heard him saying 
 in his sleep, < The goodness of God — growth 
 in grace — fulfilment of the promises — so 
 God is all in heaven, and all on earth.' After 
 sleeping a while, he awoke ; and seemed 
 about as usual at that hour. I proposed 
 sitting by his side through the night, but he 
 insisted on my going to bed ; said he felt as 
 though he should have a quiet night ; and 
 as his attendant always slept near him, and 
 awoke at the least word or motion, he urged 
 me to retire to rest. About 11 o'clock I bid 
 him good night, and wished that God might 
 
THE REV. PLINY FISK. 85 
 
 put underneath him the arms of everlasting 
 mercy. He repUed, 'The angel of the Lord 
 encampeth round about them that fear him.' 
 " These, my dear sir, were the last words 
 that I ever heard that beloved brother speak, 
 the last that I shall hear him, until I hear 
 him speak in the language of immortality. 
 Twice, while I slept, he awoke, and told 
 Antonio, his servant, that he had slept very 
 quietly, and felt easy and well. At half-past 
 three, Antonio heard him speak or groan, 
 and started up. He saw something was the 
 matter, and called me. I was by the bedside 
 in a moment. what a heart-rending mo- 
 ment was that ! He was gasping for breath, 
 unable to speak, and apparently insensible 
 to all around him. I stood by his side, and 
 attempted to revive him, but in vain. I 
 sent in haste for the physician, but did not 
 obtain him. Nor do I suppose it would 
 have been of any use whatever, if he had 
 come. It was evident that he was dying. 1 
 attempted to commend his departing spirit 
 to that Redeemer on whom he had believed. 
 I pressed his hand, kissed his quivering lips, 
 and spoke to him, but he gave me no answer, 
 not even a look or a motion. He took no 
 notice of me or of any thing around him. 
 His appointed time had arrived. He con- 
 tinued to breathe till a quarter past four. 
 Then the muscles of his face were knit to- 
 gether, as if he was in pain. It was the dy- 
 ing struggle, — it was the dissolution of the 
 last ties that united soul and body, — it was 
 
 8 
 
86 MEMOIR OF 
 
 the soul breaking off its last fetters. His 
 features then became placid again : his breath 
 stopped : his pulse ceased to beat : his soul 
 took its immortal flight." 
 
 After remaining a few weeks longer in 
 Alexandria, Mr. Fisk proceeded up the Nile 
 to Cairo, having in contemplation a journey 
 through the Desert to Judea or to Damietta 
 and Jafia. When he had reached Cairo, hav- 
 ing heard of the arrival of Mr. Temple at 
 Malta, he directed his course for that island 
 and arrived on the 13th April, 1822. After 
 remaining for some months on that island, he 
 was joined by Mr. King, an American mis- 
 sionary, with whom he sailed for Ecrypt. 
 They were also accompanied by the Rev. 
 Joseph Wolff, and they carried with them 
 two thousand copies of the Bible or portions 
 of it, and a large quantity of tracts. Here, 
 at Alexandria and Cairo, they employed 
 themselves in distributing the Scriptures and 
 tracts, and in conversing with the Jews. 
 
 Mr. Fisk remained in Egypt about three 
 months, at the end of which he set out in 
 company with Mr. King and Mr. Woltf, 
 from Cairo to Jerusalem. In the course of 
 his journey he passed through the same 
 Desert which the ancient Israelites had tra- 
 versed under the immediate protection of 
 their covenant God, who was unto them a 
 pillar of cloud by day, and a pillar of fire by 
 night. After a laborious and perilous jour- 
 ney through the wilderness, Mr. Fisk and 
 his brethren arrived safely at the Holy City, 
 
THE REV. PLINY FISK. 87 
 
 where he hoped to be permanently settled as 
 a missionary of the Cross. His feehngs on 
 entering Jerusalem he thus briefly notices : 
 " With feelings not easily described, about 
 four o'clock we entered Jerusalem. The 
 scenes and events of four thousand years 
 rushed upon our minds ; events in which 
 heaven, and earth, and hell, have felt the 
 deepest interest. This was the place selected 
 by the Almighty for his dwelling, and here 
 his glory was rendered visible. This was 
 the ^ perfection of beauty,' and the ' glory of 
 all lands.' Here David sat and tuned his 
 harp, and sang the praises of Jehovah, 
 Hither the tribes came up to worship. Here 
 enraptured prophets saw bright visions of the 
 world above, and received messages from on 
 high for guilty man. Here our Lord and 
 Saviour came in the form of a servant, and 
 groaned, and wept, and poured out his soul 
 unto death, to redeem us from sin, and save 
 us from hell. Here, too, the wrath of an 
 mcensed God has been poured out upon his 
 chosen people, and has laid waste his 
 heritage." 
 
 Mr. Fisk was naturally anxious to visit 
 scenes hallowed by so many sacred associa- 
 tions, but still he did not fail to embrace 
 every opportunity of rendering himself use- 
 ful. A considerable portion of his time was 
 spent in distributing the Scriptures and tracts, 
 and in discussing religious subjects with 
 Jews, Turks, Roman Catholics, and Greeks. 
 Before finally establishing himself in Jerusa- 
 
88 MEMOIR OF 
 
 lem, Mr. Fisk thought of visiting some of 
 the most interesting parts of Syria. He ac- 
 cordingly resolved to pass the hot season on 
 Mount Lebanon, and to improve this period 
 of retirement for the study of Arabic, a 
 language the knowledge of which would be 
 of essential service to him as a missionary in 
 Palestine. During his stay in that cool and 
 healthful region he made frequent excursions 
 in company with Messrs. King and Wolff, 
 for the purpose of becoming acquainted with 
 some of the most important places in the 
 neighbourhood. Mr. Fisk gives an interest- 
 ing description of the far-famed cedars of 
 Lebanon : — 
 
 " Taking a guide, we set out for the ce- 
 dars ; in about two hours we came in sight 
 of them, and in another hour reached them. 
 Instead of being on the highest summit of 
 Lebanon, as has sometimes been said, they 
 are situated at the foot of a high mountain 
 in what may be considered as the arena of a 
 vast amphitheatre opening to the west, with 
 high mountains on the north, south, and east. 
 The cedars stand on five or six gentle eleva- 
 tions, and occupy a spot of ground about 
 three-fourths of a mile in circumference. I 
 walked around it in fifteen minutes. We 
 measured a number of the trees. The largest 
 is upwards of forty feet in circumference. 
 Six or eight others are also very large, seve- 
 ral of them nearly the size of the largest. 
 But each of these was manifestly two trees 
 or more, which have grown together, and 
 
THE REY. PLINY FISK. 89 
 
 now form one. They generally separate a 
 few feet from the ground into the original 
 trees. The handsomest and tallest are those 
 of two or three feet in diameter, the body 
 straight, the branches almost horizontal, 
 forming a beautiful cone, and casting a good- 
 ly shade. We measured the length of two 
 by the shade, and found each about ninety 
 feet. The largest are not so high, but some 
 of the others, I think are a little higher. 
 They produce a conical fruit, in shape and 
 size like that of the pine. I counted them, 
 and made the whole number three hundred 
 and eighty-nine. Mr. King counted them, 
 omitting the small saplings, and made the 
 number three hundred and twenty-one. I 
 know not why travellers and authors have 
 so long and so generally given twenty-eightj 
 twenty, fifteen, five, as the number of the 
 cedars. It is true, that of those of superior 
 size and antiquity, there are not a great num- 
 ber ; but then there is a regular gradation in 
 size, from the largest down to the merest 
 sapling. 
 
 " Before seeing the cedars, I had met with 
 a European traveller who had just visited 
 them. He gave a short account of them, 
 and concluded with saying, * It is as with 
 miracles, — the wonder all vanishes when 
 you reach the spot.' What is there at which 
 an infidel cannot sneer ? Yet let even an 
 infidel put himself in the place of an Asiatic 
 passing from barren desert to barren desert, 
 traversing oceans of sand and mountains of 
 
 8* 
 
90 MEMOIR OP 
 
 naked rock, accustomed to countries like 
 Egypt, Arabia, Judea,and Asia Minor, aboun- 
 ding in the best places only with shrubbery 
 and fruit trees ; let him, with the feeUngs of 
 such a man, climb the ragged rocks, and pass 
 the open ravines of Lebanon, and suddenly 
 descry among the hills, a grove of three hun- 
 dred trees, such as the cedars actually are 
 even at the present day, and he will confess 
 that to be a fine comparison in Amos ii. 9, 
 — ' Whose height was like the height of the 
 cedars, and he was strong as the oaks.' Let 
 him, after a long ride in the heat of the sun, 
 sit down under the shade of a cedar, and 
 contemplate the exact conical form of its 
 top, and the beautiful symmetry of its 
 branches, and he will no longer wonder that 
 David compared the people of Israel, in the 
 days of their prosperity, to the ' goodly 
 cedars.' Psalm Ixxx. 10. 
 
 " A traveller, who had just left the forests 
 of America, might think this little grove of 
 cedars not worthy of so much notice ; but 
 the man who knows how rare large trees 
 are in Asia, and how difficult it is to find 
 timber for building, will feel at once that 
 what is said in Scripture of these trees is 
 perfectly natural. It is probable that in the 
 days of Solomon and Hiram there were ex- 
 tensive forests of cedars in Lebanon. A 
 variety of causes may have contributed to 
 their diminution and almost total extinction. 
 Yet, in comparison with all the other trees 
 that I have seen on the mountain, the few 
 
THE REV. PLINY FISK. 91. 
 
 that remain may still be called, ' the glory 
 of Lebanon.' " 
 
 In his return to Jerusalem, Mr. Fisk was 
 accompanied by the Rev. Mr. Jowett, and 
 on their route thither they took occasion to 
 visit Nazareth and Nain and Tiberias, and 
 many of the other places which were the 
 scenes of our Lord's personal and public 
 ministry. On arriving at the end of his 
 journey, Mr. Fisk resided in Jerusalem five 
 months, during which he was occupied with 
 his missionary labours. The interest which 
 he felt in the Holy City is apparent from the 
 language in which he expresses himself in 
 writing to a missionary brother : — " How my 
 soul would rejoice, my dear brother, if in- 
 stead of writing you, I could have you here 
 this evening in my room. We would kneel 
 together on mount Calvary, and adore that 
 Saviour who here shed his blood to redeem 
 us from sin. what amazing events have 
 taken place on this ground. But now the 
 daughter of Zion sits solitary — the wrath of 
 God burns hot against Jerusalem. It seems 
 to me that if there is a city on earth that is 
 peculiarly abandoned, and devoted to sin, it 
 is this very city, where the blood of redemp- 
 tion flowed. True, there is no Juggernaut 
 here, but there is idolatry almost as gross as 
 that of India. Why does not the earth again 
 quake, and the rocks again rend, and mount 
 Calvary open to swallow up those who dare 
 thus profane this sacred spot 1 We have 
 wept and prayed, as we have cast our eyes 
 
92 MEMOIR OF 
 
 over the desolations of Zion. I think I 
 never felt so strongly in any situation before, 
 the necessity of trusting directly and entirely 
 in God. I hope and trust he will cause our 
 work to prosper. 
 
 '^ I wish, dear brother, you could go with 
 us once to mount Zion and to Gethsemane — 
 take a few turns with me on the flat roof of 
 the convent, and survey the places around 
 us. But you are engaged in your work. 
 And I must study Italian and Greek, and 
 Arabic with its thirteen conjugations, and 
 twenty ways of forming the plural, and 
 thirty-three ways of forming the infinitive ; 
 with its consonants, without vowels, and its 
 unnumbered dialects. And then I must sell 
 Bibles, give away tracts, translate tracts to 
 be printed, preach the Gospel to a Greek 
 to-day, a Roman Catholic to-morrow, an 
 Armenian the third day, and a Jew the day 
 after, and the next day give a Testament to 
 some learned Turk who calls to see me. 
 Then I must pack up my baggage, and 
 mount a camel, or a dromedary, or a horse 
 or a mule, or an ass, as the case may be, and 
 make a journey to Hebron, or to Jordan, or 
 to mount Lebanon. 
 
 " I am glad, that amidst all your cares, you 
 find time to think of me, and that I have a 
 quiet moment this evening to write to you. 
 AH is dark and silent around me. I am in 
 my little room alone. The holy Sabbath is 
 approaching. On Calvary it seems to have 
 more than an ordinary sacredness. It was 
 
THE REV. PLINY FISK. 93 
 
 here that Christ made the first day of the 
 week holy, by triumphmg, on that eventful 
 morning, over death and the grave. 
 that many on the morrow may rise to new- 
 ness of life in Him." 
 
 For some time he was permitted to prose- 
 cute his benevolent schemes in Jerusalem 
 undisturbed by the interference of the public 
 authorities. At length, however, the distri- 
 bution of Bibles attracted the notice of the 
 jealous Mussalmans. The Turkish governor 
 caused the missionary to be apprehended and 
 dragged before the judges. The devout ser- 
 vant of Christ was supported under the trial. 
 He remembered the word, " It is enough 
 for the disciple that he be as his Master, and 
 the servant as his Lord." After a brief ex- 
 amination he was set at liberty, the governor 
 professing that it was wholly an affair of the 
 judge, and undertaken without his know- 
 ledge. 
 
 Having laboured for a considerable time 
 in the capital of the country, Mr. Fisk under- 
 took a journey to some of the principal cities 
 in the north of Syria. In this tour he was 
 accompanied by his friend and brother Mr. 
 King. They vi^^iited Damascus, and then 
 proceeded to Aleppo, where they took up 
 their residence for a few weeks, Mr. Fisk 
 devoting himself to the study of Arabic. 
 Thence they passed on to Beyroot, where 
 they rested a short time and travelled to 
 Jaffa, at which city they took up their abode 
 for a season. 
 
94 MEMOIR OF 
 
 On returning to Jerusalem they found that 
 the pasha's soldiers had been plundering the 
 city, breaking open houses, taking men pri- 
 soners, binding them, beating them, and cast- 
 hig them into prison. The whole city was 
 in confusion and alarm, and in these cir- 
 cumstances it was judged advisable that the 
 missionaries should leave Jerusalem and re- 
 tire to Beyroot. There was some danger in 
 encountering the journey at that time, but 
 after due consultation and prayer they set 
 out. The road was very perilous, being 
 much infested by robbers, but by the Divine 
 protection they reached the place of their 
 destination in safety. 
 
 The first object which engaged Mr. Fisk's 
 attention on reaching Beyroot, was the estab- 
 lishment of a school in that place for teach- 
 ing Arabic grammatically. He had various 
 plans in contemplation for the ditiusion of a 
 knowledge of the Gospel all around. But 
 that God, whose ways are not as our ways, 
 was pleased to cut short the labours and the 
 life of his servant. The season was un- 
 healthy, and fever was prevailing in the town 
 when Mr. Fisk arrived. He was soon after- 
 wards attacked with symptoms of fever, at 
 first in a very mild form, but gradually be- 
 coming more severe. The last scene, which 
 was deeply affecting, is thus described by 
 Messrs. Bird and Goodell, American mission- 
 aries, who were then stationed at Beyroot. 
 
 " At times he lay in a state of stupor, and 
 seemed near death. In such a state he was, 
 
THE REV. PLINY FISK. 95 
 
 when the hour of our usual Thursday prayer- 
 meeting arrived. We proposed to observe 
 the season by his bed-side, supposing him to 
 be too insensible to be either gratified or dis- 
 turbed by it. On asking him, however, if 
 v/e should once more pray with him, to our 
 surprise he answered, " Yes, but first I wish 
 you to read me some portions of Mrs. Gra- 
 ham's ' Provision for passing over Jordan.' '^ 
 We read, and he made suitable remarks. 
 Where it is said, ' To be where thou art, to 
 see thee as thou art, to be made like thee, 
 the last sinful motion for ever past,' — he an- 
 ticipated the conclusion, and said, with an 
 expressive emphasis, « That's heaven.' We 
 then each of us prayed with him, and he 
 subjoined his hearty ^ Amen.' We had asked, 
 what we should pray for, as it concerned his 
 case. « Pray,' said he, ' that, if it be the 
 Lord's will, I may yet get well, to pray with 
 you, and labour with you a little longer ; if 
 not, that I may die in possession of my rea- 
 son, and not dishonour God by my dying 
 behaviour.' He afterwards begged to hear 
 the hjrmn which he had formerly sung at 
 the grave of Mr. Parsons. 
 
 " ' Brother, thou art gone before us, 
 And thy saintly soul is flown 
 Where tears are wiped from every eye, 
 And sorrow is unknown.' 
 
 " As the evening approached, and before 
 the appearance of the fever fit, he was very 
 calm and quiet. In the midst of the stillness 
 
96 MEMOIR OP 
 
 that reigned within him and around him, he 
 spolie out, saying, * I know not what this is, 
 but it seems to me hke the silence that pre- 
 cedes a dissohition of nature.' His fever 
 began to creep upon him. We saw again 
 the spasmodic affection of his muscles. 
 'What the Lord intends to do with me,' said 
 he, ' I cannot tell, but my impression is that 
 this is my last night.' We hoped not. ' Per- 
 haps not,' said he, ' but these are my im- 
 pressions.' 
 
 " The devotions of the evening were at- 
 tended in his room. He united in them with 
 evident enjoyment. Afterwards he begged 
 one of the sisters to go and try to get some 
 rest, bade her good night, intimated it might 
 be their final parting, commended her ' to 
 Him that was able to keep her.' Similar 
 expressions of concern for us, and of grati- 
 tude to God, frequently fell from his lips ; 
 such as, ' The Lord bless you for all your 
 kindness.' ' I shall wear you all out.' < Were 
 it not for these kind friends, I should already 
 have been in my grave.' ' How different is 
 this from poor B. (an English traveller who 
 lately died) ; how different from Martyn ; 
 how different from brother Parsons in 
 Syria !' 
 
 '* The fever fit proved much milder than 
 the night preceding — scarcely any appear- 
 ance of delirium. He repeatedly said, < The 
 Lord is more merciful to me than I expected.' 
 * Perhaps there may be some hope of my 
 recovery, — the Lord's name be praised.' 
 
THE REV. PLINY FISK. 97 
 
 He often checked himself for sighing, and 
 speaking of his pains, saying, ' I know it is 
 weak, and foolish, and wicked.' Once, 
 after a dranght of water, he said, * Thanks 
 be to God for so much mercy, and let his 
 name be trusted in for that which is future.' 
 On two or three occasions, he exclaimed, 
 ' God is good, his mercy endureth for ever.' 
 
 " At midnight he asked the time, hoped it 
 had been later, and at three a. m., (Friday 
 21) his fever gave way to a little quiet sleep. 
 During the whole forenoon he remained so 
 quiet that we hoped his disease might be 
 breaking away. In the afternoon, however, 
 it was discovered returning with all its 
 alarming symptoms. He was asked if he 
 had been able during the day to fix his 
 thoughts on Christ. ' Not so much as I could 
 wish — I am extremely weak.' But when 
 you have been able to do so, has the Saviour 
 appeared precious to you ? ' yes, yes, 
 yes ! One of the sisters,' continued he, 
 * has been reading to me some precious 
 hymns respecting Christ and his glory ; then 
 fixing his eye stedfastly towards heaven, he 
 repeated the words, ' Christ and his glory.' " 
 
 The following day he appeared to rally, 
 and as evening came on, the symptoms be- 
 came milder, but towards midnight he sunk 
 rapidly, and at three o'clock on the Lord's 
 day morning, 23d October, 1825, he quietly 
 and peacefully fell asleep in Jesus. 
 
 The loss of this excellent man and devoted 
 missionary was deeply felt. He had gained 
 
 9 
 
98 MEMOIR OF THE REV. PLINY FISK. 
 
 upon the affections of the people among 
 whom he sojourned as in a land of stran- 
 gers. " Some of the Arabs," says INlr. Good- 
 ell, " were deeply affected, as they stood 
 around his dying bed. They were amazed 
 at his peace of mind, and could not conceive 
 it possible how any one could be so willing 
 to die. They wept. We explained to them 
 the cause of his tranquillity and joy, related 
 to them much of his religious views and ex- 
 perience, and told them of Christ and heaven. 
 Indeed we sometimes felt that Christ and 
 heaven were present. It seemed but one 
 step <■ to Him that sitteth upon the throne, 
 and to the Lamb,' where God himself wipes 
 away all tears. 
 
 " ' The chamber where the good man meets his fate, 
 Is privileged beyond the common walks 
 Of virtuous life, — quite on the verge of heaven.' " 
 
MEMOIR 
 
 OP 
 
 THE REV. JOHN ELIOT. 
 
 Little is known of the early life of this 
 truly apostolic missionary. He appears to 
 have been a native of England, born in the 
 year 1604. The religious education of his 
 infant years must have engaged much of the 
 attention of his parents, who sought to train 
 him up in the fear of the Lord. 
 
 When he had finished the elementary 
 branches of education, young Eliot was sent 
 to the University of Cambridge, where he 
 prosecuted his studies with great success. On 
 leaving the University, he obtained a situa- 
 tion as usher of a school at Little Baddow, 
 superintended by the Rev. Thomas Hooker, 
 who afterwards became one of the most dis- 
 tinguished divines of New England. It 
 was while at Little Baddow that Mr. Eliot 
 experienced a decided change in his whole 
 sentiments and feelings. Looking back upon 
 the precious benefits he had enjoyed while 
 residing there, he thus wrote : — " To this 
 place I was called through the infinite riches 
 of God's mercy in Christ Jesus to my poor 
 soul, for here the Lord said unto my dead 
 
 99 
 
100 MEMOIR OF 
 
 soul, Live, and through the grace of God I 
 do Uve, and shall live for ever.'' An inter- 
 est in Christ and his salvation was now with 
 him the one thing needful ; and so deeply 
 impressed did his mind become with the im- 
 portance of religion, that he counted it his 
 duty to devote himself to the work of preach- 
 ing the Gospel to his fellow-men. But as 
 he felt that the views which he entertained 
 were such as would not then be tolerated in 
 the Church of England, he resolved to set 
 out for America; and, accordingly, he em- 
 barked for New England in the summer of 
 1631, and arrived at Boston in November of 
 the same year. 
 
 Before leaving his native country, Mr. 
 Eliot had agreed with a number of his Chris- 
 tian friends who intended to cross the Atlan- 
 tic, that in the event of their doing so pre- 
 vious to his settlement over any other con- 
 gregation, he would become their pastor. 
 This engagement he afterwards fulfilled. 
 On their arrival in New England they planted 
 a colony about a mile from Boston, erected 
 a town which they called Roxbury, and 
 formed themselves into a church, of which 
 Mr. Eliot was appointed minister. In the 
 discharge of his pastoral duties he was re- 
 markably conscientious and faithful, so that 
 he was at once respected and beloved by his 
 people. " He would sound the trumpet of 
 God," says Dr. Mather, " against all vice, 
 with a most penetrating liveliness, and make 
 his pulpit another Mount Sinai, for the 
 
THE REV. JOHN ELIOT. 101 
 
 flashes of lightning therein displayed against 
 the breaches of the law given from that 
 burning mountain. There was usually a 
 special fervour in the rebukes Avhich he be- 
 stowed on carnality. When he was to brand 
 the earthly-mindedness of church members, 
 and the allowance and indulgence which they 
 often gave themselves in sensual delights, he 
 was a right Boailerges — he spoke as many 
 thunderbolts as words. '^ 
 
 In the education of the young, Mr. EHot 
 took a particular delight, establishing schools, 
 superintending them when formed, and com- 
 posing catechisms of elementary instruction. 
 When he entered a house, he was accustomed 
 to call for the young people, that he might 
 lay his hands on them, and bless them. " I 
 cannot forget the ardour," says Dr. Mather, 
 " with which I once heard him pray at a 
 Synod held in Boston, ' Lord, for schools 
 everywhere among us! That our schools 
 may flourish ! That every member of this 
 assembly may go home to procure a good 
 school to be encouraged in the town where 
 he lives ! That before we die we may be 
 happy to see a good school established in 
 every part of the country !' " Such was 
 the benevolent spirit by which this pious 
 man was actuated in his endeavours to benefit 
 the community to which he belonged. 
 
 The first settlers in New England were 
 
 placed in circumstances of peculiar difficulty, 
 
 which called for their utmost exertions to 
 
 procure a sufficient temporal subsistence, and 
 
 9* 
 
102 MEMOIR OF 
 
 at the same time to promote their spiritual 
 improvement and edification. While thus 
 strugghng, however, for their own preserva- 
 tion, they were by no means regardless of 
 the poor ignorant savages by whom they 
 were surrounded, and whom they saw per- 
 ishing for lack of knowledge. In their 
 benevolent endeavours to instruct them, they 
 were not a little encouraged by an act passed 
 by the General Court of Massachusetts in 
 1646, tending to facilitate the propagation of 
 the Gospel among the Indians. It appeared 
 that about the time when this act was passed, 
 Mr. Ehot's mind was deeply affected with 
 the deplorable condition of these ignorant 
 heathens ; and at length, after much consul- 
 tation with his brethren, and earnest prayer 
 for the Divine direction, he resolved to dedi- 
 cate himself to the work of a missionary 
 among them. To qualify himself for this 
 important task, he lost no time in availing 
 himself of every means of acquiring their 
 language ; and such was his success, that in 
 a very short time he was able to address 
 them in their own tongue. The motives by 
 which he was actuated in this work, and the 
 mode in which he commenced his labours, 
 are thus stated by himself: — " God first put 
 into my heart a compassion over their poor 
 souls, and a desire to teach them to know 
 Christ, and to bring them into his kingdom. 
 Then presently I found out, by God's wise 
 providence, a clever-witted young man, who 
 had been a servant in an English house, who 
 
THE REV. JOHN ELIOT. 103 
 
 pretty well understood our language, better 
 than he could speak it, and well understood 
 his own language, and had a clear pronun- 
 ciation ; him I made my interpreter. By his 
 help I translated the Commandments, the 
 Lord's Prayer, and many texts of Scripture; 
 also I compiled both exhortations and prayers 
 by his help. I diligently marked the diffe- 
 rence of their grammar from ours. When 
 I found the way of them, I would pursue a 
 word, a noun, a verb, through all variations 
 I could think of: and thus I came at it." 
 
 The place at which he preached his first 
 sermon to the Indians was situated about 
 four miles from his house, at Roxbury ; and 
 when he approached it, he was met by 
 Waban, " a wise and grave Indian," and 
 several of his friends, who conducted him to 
 a large wigwam, where he had an opportu- 
 nity of proclaiming the Gospel to a conside- 
 rable number of poor Indians. The account 
 of this first interview is thus given by Mr. 
 Eliot :— 
 
 " Being all assembled, we began with 
 prayer ; which now was in English, we be- 
 ing not so far acquainted with the Indian 
 language, as to express our hearts therein 
 before God or them. We hope to be able 
 to do this ere long ; the Indians desiring it, 
 that they also may know how to pray : but 
 we begun thus in a tongue unknown to 
 them ; partly to let them know that the duty 
 of prayer was serious and sacred ; and partly 
 for our own sakes, that we might the more 
 
104 MEMOIR OF 
 
 fully agree together in the same request and 
 heart-sorrows for them, even in that place 
 where God was never wont to be called 
 upon. 
 
 '^ When prayer was ended, it was an 
 affecting and yet glorious spectacle, to see a 
 company of perishing and forlorn outcasts 
 diligently attending to the blessed word of 
 salvation then delivered, and professing that 
 they understood all that was then taught 
 them in their own tongue. For about an 
 hour and a quarter the sermon continued ; 
 wherein one of our company ran through 
 all the principal matters of religion, begin- 
 ning first with a repetition of the Ten Com- 
 mandments, and a brief explication of them ; 
 then showing the curse and dreadful wrath 
 of God, against all those who break them, 
 or any one of them, or the least tittle of 
 them ; and so applying the whole unto the 
 condition of the Indians then present, with 
 much affection. He then preached Jesus 
 Christ to them, as the only means of recovery 
 from sin, and wrath, and eternal death : he 
 explahied to them who Christ was, and 
 whither he was gone, and how he will one 
 day come again to judge the world. He 
 spake to them of the blessed state of all 
 those who believe in Christ, and know him 
 feelingly ; he spake to them also, observing 
 his own method, as he saw most fit, to edify 
 them, concerning the creation and the fall of 
 man, the greatness of God, the joys of heaven, 
 and the horrors of hell ; and urging them to 
 
THE REV. JOHN ELIOT. 105 
 
 repentance for several known sins wherein 
 they hve. On many things of the hke na- 
 ture he discoursed ; not meddhng with mat- 
 ters more difficult, until they had tasted more 
 plain and familiar truths. 
 
 " Having thus in a set discourse familiarly 
 opened the principal matters of salvation to 
 them, we next proposed certain questions, to 
 see what they would say to them ; that so 
 we might screw, by variety of means, some- 
 thing or other of God into them. But, before 
 we did this, we asked them if they under- 
 stood all that which was already spoken ; 
 and whether all of them in the wigwam did 
 understand, or only some few. They an- 
 swered to this question, with a multitude of 
 voices, that they all of them understood all 
 that which was spoken to them. 
 
 " We then desired to know of them if they 
 would propose any question to us for the 
 more clear understanding of what Avas de- 
 livered. Whereupon several of them pro- 
 pounded presently several questions, to which 
 we think some special wisdom of God direct- 
 ed them. 
 
 " One asked, ^ How may we come to know 
 Jesus Christ ?' 
 
 " We answered, that if they were able to 
 read our Bible, the book of God, therein 
 they would see most clearly who Jesus Christ 
 was. But since they could not yet read that 
 book, we wished them to meditate on what 
 they had now heard out of God's book ; and 
 to do this much and often, both when they 
 
106 MEMOIR OP 
 
 lay down on their mats in their wigwams, 
 and when they rose up and went alone into 
 the fields and woods : so God would teach 
 them; and especially if they used a third 
 help, which was prayer to God. We told 
 them, that, although they could not make 
 long prayers, as we English could, yet if 
 they did but sigh and groan, and say thus — 
 ' Lord, make me to know Jesus Christ, for I 
 know him not,' — and if they did say so 
 again and again with their hearts, that God 
 would teach them to know Jesus Christ : 
 because he is a God that will be found of 
 them that seek him with all their hearts, and 
 hears the prayers of all men, Indian as well 
 as English ; and that Englishmen themselves 
 did by this means come to the knowledge of 
 Jesus Christ. And we advised them, as a 
 farther help, to confess their sins and igno- 
 rance unto God ; and to acknowledge how 
 justly God might deny them the knowledge 
 of Christ, because of their sins. 
 
 " These things were spoken by him who 
 had preached to them in their own language, 
 — borrowing, now and then, some small 
 helps from the interpreter whom we had 
 brought with us, and who could oftentimes 
 express our minds more distinctly than we 
 could ourselves ; but this we perceived, that 
 a few words from the preacher were more 
 regarded than many from the Indian inter- 
 preter. 
 
 " One of them, after this answer, replied 
 to us, that he was a little while since praying 
 
THE REV. JOHN ELIOT. 107 
 
 in his wigwam unto God and Jesus Christ, 
 that God would give him a good heart ; and 
 that, while he was praying, one of his fellow 
 Indians interrupted him, and told him, that 
 he prayed in vain, because Jesus Christ 
 understood not what Indians speak in prayer, 
 because he had been used to hear English- 
 men pray, and so could well enough under- 
 stand them, but with Indian language in 
 prayer he thought he was not acquainted, 
 but was a stranger to it, and therefore could 
 not understand them. His question therefore 
 was, whether Jesus Christ did understand, or 
 God did understand, Indian prayers. 
 
 " This question sounding just like them- 
 selves, we studied to give as familiar an an- 
 swer as we could, and therefore in this, as in 
 all our other answers, we endeavoured to 
 speak nothing without clearing of it up by 
 some familiar similitude. Our answer sum- 
 marily was therefore this : that Jesus Christ, 
 and God by him, made all things ; and made 
 all men, not only English but Indian men ; 
 and, if he made them both, then he knew 
 all that was within man and came from man, 
 all his desires, and all his thoughts, and all 
 his speeches, and so all his prayers ; and if 
 he made Indian men, then he knows all 
 Indian prayers also. We bade them look 
 upon that Indian basket that was before 
 them ; there were black and white straws, 
 and many other things of which they made 
 it. Now, though others who made not the 
 basket, did not know what those things were, 
 
108 MEMOIR OP 
 
 yet he that made it must needs tell all the 
 things in it : so, we said, it was here." 
 
 The second meeting with the Indians was 
 still more interesting, and during the conclud- 
 ing prayer, an event occurred which is well 
 worth mentioning. " I cast my eye on one," 
 says one of Mr. Eliot's friends, " who was 
 hanging down his head weeping. He held 
 up his head for a while, — yet such was the 
 power of the word on his heart, that he 
 hung down his head again, and covered his 
 eyes, and so fell wiping and wiping of them, 
 weeping abundantly, continuing thus till 
 prayer was ended ; after which he presently 
 turns from us, and turns his face to a side 
 and corner of the wigwam, and there falls a 
 weeping more abundantly by himself ; which 
 one of us perceiving, went to him, and spake 
 to him encouraging words, at the hearing of 
 which he fell a weeping more and more ; so 
 leaving of him, he who spake to him came 
 unto me, being newly gone out of the wig- 
 wam, and told me of his tears; so we re- 
 solved to go again both of us to him, and 
 speak to him again. We met him coming 
 out of the wigwam, and there we spake 
 again to him, and he there fell into a more 
 abundant renewed weeping, like one deeply 
 and inwardly aflected indeed, which forced 
 us also to such bowels of compassion, that 
 we could not forbear weeping over him also, 
 — and so we parted, greatly rejoicing for 
 such sorrowing." 
 
 Before the third interview with them, Mr. 
 
THE REV. JOHN ELIOT. 109 
 
 Eliot found that the Powahs or Indian priests 
 had strictly forbidden the people to listen to 
 the instructions of the English. The inter- 
 ference, however, of these wicked impostors 
 was of no avail. The people still flocked to 
 hear the devoted missionary, and many of 
 them expressed a wish to have their children 
 put under his care, that they might be educa- 
 ted in the knowledge of Christianity. En- 
 couraged by the success which thus attended 
 his labours, Mr. Eliot applied to the General 
 Court of the colony in behalf of those who 
 wished to be placed under his tuition. His 
 application was successful : land was granted 
 that they might build a town and enjoy the 
 Christian instruction which they so much 
 desired. From that hour civilization com- 
 menced among the Indians. A town was 
 erected, surrounded by a stone wall, and 
 containing a great number of neat comforta- 
 ble wigwams. The women learned to spin ; 
 the men were instructed in husbandry and 
 the more simple mechanical arts ; and, in 
 short, the whole settlement assumed an 
 aspect of industry and activity. 
 
 The following letter exhibits, in a striking 
 light, the self-denying character of this man 
 of God, and his lively faith in the divine 
 promises : — 
 
 " God is greatly to be adored in all his 
 providences, and hath, evermore, wise and 
 holy ends to accomplish, which we are not 
 aware of; and, therefore, although he may 
 seem to cross our ends with disappointments, 
 
 10 
 
110 MEMOIR OP 
 
 after all our pains and expectations, yet he 
 hath farther and better thoughts than we can 
 reach unto, which will cause us to admire 
 his love and wisdom, when we see them ac- 
 complished. He is gracious to accept of our 
 sincere labours for his name, though he dis- 
 appoint them in our way, and frustrate our 
 expectations in our time ; yea, he will fulfil 
 our expectations in his way, and in his time, 
 which shall finally appear, to the eye of 
 faith, a better way than ours, and a fitter 
 time than ours. His wisdom is infinite. 
 
 " The Lord still smileth on his work 
 among the Indians. Through his help that 
 strengtheneth me, I cease not, in my poor 
 measure, to instruct them ; and I do see that 
 they profit and grow in the knowledge of 
 the truth, and some of them to the love of it, 
 which appeareth by a ready obedience to it. 
 " The present work of the Lord that is to 
 be done among them, is to gather them to- 
 gether from their scattered kind of life, — first 
 into civil society, then into ecclesiastical. In 
 the spring that is past, they were very desi- 
 rous to have been upon that work, and to 
 have planted corn in the place intended ; but 
 I did dissuade them, because I hoped for 
 tools and means from England, whereby to 
 prosecute the work this summer. When 
 ships came, and no supply, you may easily 
 think what a damping it was ; and truly my 
 heart smote me, that I had looked too much 
 at man and means, in stopping their earnest 
 affections from that bar which proved a 
 
THE REV. JOHN ELIOT. Ill 
 
 blank. I began without any such respect, 
 and I thought that the Lord would have me 
 so to go on, and only look to him whose 
 work it is. When I had thus looked up to 
 the Lord, I advised with our elders, and 
 some others of our church, whose hearts 
 consented with me. Then I advised with 
 divers of the elders at Boston lecture, and 
 Mr. Cotton's answer was, ' My heart saith, 
 Go on, and look to the Lord only for help :' 
 the rest also concurred. So I commended it 
 to our church, and we sought God in a day 
 of fasting and prayer, and have been ever 
 since doing according to our abilities. This 
 I account a favour of God, that on that very 
 night, before we came from our place of 
 meeting, we had notice of a ship from Eng- 
 land, whereby I received letters and some 
 encouragement in the work from private 
 friends, — a mercy which God had in store, 
 but unknown to some, and so contrived by 
 the Lord that I should receive it as the fruit 
 of prayer. 
 
 " The place also is of God's providing, as 
 a fruit of prayer ; for when I, with some that 
 went with me, had rode to a place of some 
 hopeful expectation, it was in no wise suit- 
 able. I went behind a rock, and looked to 
 the Lord, and committed the matter to him; 
 and while I was travelling in the woods,Chris- 
 tian friends were in prayer at home ; and so 
 it was, that though one of our company fell 
 sick in the woods, and we were forced home 
 with speed, yet, in the way home, the In- 
 
112 MEMOIR OF 
 
 dians in our company, upon inquiry, describ- 
 ing a place to me, and guiding us over some 
 part of it, the Lord did, both by his provi- 
 dence then, and afterwards, by more dihgent 
 search of the place, discover that there it was 
 his pleasure we should begin the work. 
 When grass was fit to be cut, I sent some 
 Indians to mow, and others to make some 
 hay at the place. This work was performed 
 well, as I found when I went up with my 
 man to order it. We must also of necessity 
 have a house in which to lodge, meet, and 
 lay up our provisions and clothes. I set them 
 therefore to fell and square timber for a 
 house. When it was ready, I went, and 
 many of them with me, and on their shoul- 
 ders carried all the timber together, &c. 
 These things they cheerfully do, but I pay 
 them wages carefully for all such works as I 
 set them about, which is a good encourage- 
 ment to labour. 
 
 " It cannot but appear there is some work 
 of God upon their hearts, which doth carry 
 them through all these snares ; and if, upon 
 some competent time of experience, we shall 
 find them to grow in knowledge of the prin- 
 ciples of religion, and to love the ways of 
 the Lord the better, according as they come 
 to understand them, and to yield obedience 
 to them, and submit to this great change, 
 to bridle lust by laws of chastity, and to 
 mortify idleness by labour, — and desire to 
 train up their children accordingly ; — I say, 
 if we shall see these things in some measure 
 
THE REV. JOHN ELIOT. 113 
 
 in them, what should hinder charity from 
 hoping that there is grace in their hearts, — a 
 spark kindled by the word and Spirit of 
 God, which shall never be quenched ? and 
 were these indwelling within them, who 
 could gainsay their gathering together into a 
 holy church covenant and election of officers ? 
 and who can forbid them to be baptized ? 
 And I am persuaded there be sundry such 
 among them, whom the Lord will vouchsafe 
 so far to favour, and to shine upon, that they 
 may become a church and a spouse of Jesus 
 Christ. 
 
 "• The blessing of God upon this work doth 
 comfortably, hopefully, and successfully ap- 
 pear in the labours of my brother Mayhew, 
 in Martha's Vineyard ; insomuch that I hope 
 they will be, after a while, ripe for this work 
 of civilization, and dwelling together, if once 
 they see a successful pattern of it. I doubt 
 not but they will, ere long, desire church-fel- 
 lowship, and the ordinances of God's wor- 
 ship. The cloud increaseth, and the Lord 
 seemeth to be coming in among them. They 
 are very desirous to have their children 
 taught, which is one argument that they 
 truly love the knowledge of God. I have 
 entreated a woman, living near where they 
 dwell, to do that office for their children, and 
 1 pay her for it ; but when they go to their 
 plantation we shall be in a strait for help that 
 way. The Indians so well like the persons 
 who perform that service for them, that they 
 entreat them to go with them, which I look 
 
 10* 
 
114 MEMOIR OF 
 
 at as a finger of God. If the Lord please to 
 prosper our poor beginnings, my purpose is, 
 so far as the Lord shall enable me, to give 
 attendance to the work, to have school exer- 
 cises for all the men, by daily instructing of 
 them to read and write, &c. Yea, if the 
 Lord afford us fit instruments, my desire is 
 that all the women may be taught to read. I 
 know the matter will be difficult every way, 
 for English people can only teach them to 
 read English, — and for their own language 
 we have no book. My desire, therefore, is 
 to teach them all to write, and read written 
 hand, and thereby, with pains-taking, they 
 may have some of the Scriptures in their 
 own language. I have one already who can 
 write, so that I can read his writing well, 
 and he can read mine. I hope the Lord will 
 both enlarge his understanding, and enable 
 others to do as he doth. If once I had some 
 of themselves able to write and read, it 
 might farther the work exceedingly, and will 
 be the speediest way. Yours, in our Lord 
 Jesus. John Eliot." 
 
 Mr. Eliot's exertions were promptly 
 seconded by the local government, who 
 passed several acts for the further improve- 
 ment and civilization of the Indians. The 
 change in consequence soon became appa- 
 rent, even to the most careless observer. J\Ir. 
 Whitefield, who paid a visit to the town 
 which these Indiatishad reared, was particu- 
 larly struck with astonishment at their ap- 
 
THE REV. JOHN ELIOT. 115 
 
 pearance, and declared that, from their cor- 
 rect behaviour and decent clothing, he could 
 scarcely distinguish them from the English 
 people. 
 
 Nor were the beneficial effects of Mr. 
 Eliot's labours limited to the settlements 
 where they were first begun. The Indians 
 in various parts of the country were anxious 
 to enjoy the same advantages. The work 
 of Christianization and civilization went 
 hand in hand, and so rapidly did the desire 
 for instruction spread, that the missionary 
 found it difficult, even with the assistance of 
 some converted Indians, to comply with the 
 numerous invitations which poured in upon 
 him from all quarters, to come and communi- 
 cate the glad tidings to various tribes of In- 
 dians. And in scarcely a single instance 
 was the invitation made in vain. The inde- 
 fatigable Eliot wandered from place to place, 
 scattering the seed of divine truth with un- 
 sparing hand. " I have not been dry night 
 nor day," he writes, " from the third day of 
 the week to the sixth, but have travelled 
 from place to place in that condition ; and 
 at night I pull off my boots, wring my stock- 
 ings, and on with them again, and so con- 
 tinue. The rivers also were raised so as that 
 we were wet in riding through. But God 
 steps in and helps me. I have considered 
 the exhortation of Paul to his son Timothy, 
 ' Endure hardness as a good soldier of Jesus 
 Christ,' with many other such like medita- 
 tions." 
 
116 MEMOIR OF 
 
 Animated by the pure motives of the 
 Gospel, he boldly encountered the manifold 
 hardships and difficulties, and even dangers 
 to which he was exposed ; but in the spirit 
 of his great Master, he counted not his life 
 dear unto himself that he might accomplish 
 the benevolent mission which he had under- • 
 taken. InteUigence of the wonderful suc- 
 cess which every where attended his exer- 
 tions soon crossed the Atlantic, and attracted 
 considerable attention in Encrland. Parlia- 
 ment was induced to take the matter under 
 consideration, and an act was passed encou- 
 raging the evangelizing of the Indians, and 
 supporting those engaged in the work. 
 Large sums of money were in consequence 
 collected in England, under the authority of 
 the Commissioners appointed by Parliament. 
 For these benevolent exertions on the part 
 of his countrymen, Mr. Eliot was particularly 
 grateful, and he conveyed his obligations to 
 them in terms of the warmest affection. 
 
 Encouraged by the kindness and liberality 
 of his friends in England, he made applica- 
 tion to them in behalf of the schools which 
 he was anxious to establish. Necessity 
 alone compelled him to take this step. " I 
 have not means of my own," he said ; " I 
 have a family of many children to educate ; 
 and therefore, I catmot give over my ministry 
 in our church, whereby my family is sus- 
 tained, to attend the Indians, to whom I 
 give, and of whom I receive nothing." Tiie 
 instruction of the young, and the translation 
 
THE REV. JOHN ELIOT. 117 
 
 of the Scriptures into the Indian language, 
 appear to have been the great objects upon 
 which he had set his heart. But he was not 
 inattentive to the temporal comfort of the 
 poor Indians. Desirous of instructing them 
 in the arts of civiUzed hfe, he submitted to 
 his friends a proposal about sending mechan- 
 ics from England for that purpose. In sug- 
 gesting this plan, the ultimate object which 
 Mr. Ehot had in view was to erect a town, 
 in which the Indians belonging to the settle- 
 ment might live comfortably. He thus 
 speaks in a letter, dated November 12th, 
 1648, of his success and his discouragements : 
 " The work of preaching to these poor In- 
 dians goeth on, not without success. It is 
 the Lord only who doth speak to the hearts 
 of men, and he can speak to them, and doth 
 so effectually, that one of them I believe has 
 verily gone to the Lord : a woman, who 
 was the first of ripe years who hath died 
 since I taught them the way of salvation. 
 Her life was blameless after she submitted to 
 the Gospel. She died of a sickness which 
 she took in childbed. I several times visited 
 her, prayed with her, and asked her about 
 her spiritual estate. She told me that she 
 still loved God, though he made her sick, and 
 was resolved to pray unto him so long as she 
 lived. She said also that she delieved God 
 would pardon all her sins, because she be- 
 lieved that Jesus Christ died for her, and that 
 God was well-pleased in him ; and that she 
 was willing to die, and believed that she 
 
118 MEMOIR OF 
 
 would go to heaven, and live happy with 
 God and Christ there. Of her own accord 
 she called her children to her, and said to 
 them, ' I shall now die, and when I am dead, 
 your grandfather, and grandmother, and 
 uncles, will send for you to come and live 
 among them, and promise you great matters, 
 and tell you what pleasant living it is 
 amongst them, — for they pray not to God, 
 keep not the Sabbath, and commit all man- 
 ner of sins, but I charge you to live here all 
 your days.' Soon after she died. 
 
 "For the further progress of the work 
 among them, I perceive a great impediment. 
 Sundry in the country, in ditlerent places, 
 would gladly be taught the knowledge of 
 God and Jesus Christ, and would pray unto 
 God, if I could go unto them, and teach them 
 where they dwell ; but to come and live 
 here, among, or near to the English, they are 
 not willing. A place must be found some- 
 what remote from the English, where they 
 must have the word constantly taught, and 
 government constantly exercised, means of 
 good subsistence, and encouragements for 
 the industrious provided. Sncli a project 
 would draw many that are well-minded to- 
 gether. 
 
 " Few of our southern Indians incline this 
 way, only some of Tihtacut ; our western 
 Indians more earnestly embrace the Gospel. 
 Shawanon, the great Sachem of Nashawog, 
 doth embrace the Gospel, and pray unto 
 God. I have been four times there this 
 
THE REV. JOHN ELIOT. 119 
 
 summer, and there be more people by far 
 than amongst us : sundry of them do gladly 
 hear the word of God. But they are forty 
 miles distant, and I can but seldom go to 
 them. 
 
 " There is a great fishing place upon one 
 of the falls of Merrimack river, called Pan- 
 tucket, where is a great confluence of Indians 
 every spring, and thither I have gone these 
 two years in that season, and intend to do so 
 the next spring. Such confluences are Uke 
 fairs in England, and a fit season it is to 
 come then unto them. At those great meet- 
 ings there is praying to God, and good con- 
 ference and observation of the Sabbath, by 
 such as are well-minded ; and my coming 
 among them is very acceptable in outward 
 appearance. This last spring I did there 
 meet old Papassaconnoway, who is a great 
 sagamore.* Last year he and all his sons 
 fled when I came ; but this year it pleased 
 God to bow his heart to hear the word. I 
 preached from Malachi i. 11, whence I show- 
 ed them what mercy God had promised to 
 them, and that the time was now come 
 wherein the Lord did begin to call them to 
 repentance, and to believe in Christ for the 
 remission of their sins, and to give them a 
 heart to call upon his name. When I had 
 done speaking they began to propound ques- 
 tions. After a good space, this old Papassa- 
 connoway spake to this purpose, « Indeed I 
 
 * A great chief. 
 
120 MEMOIR OF 
 
 have never prayed unto God as 3'-et, for I 
 have never heard of God before, as now I 
 do. I am purposed in my heart from hence- 
 forth to pray unto God, and to persuade all 
 my sons to do the same.' His sons present, 
 especially his eldest son, who is sachem at 
 Wadchaset, gave his willing consent to what 
 his father had promised, and so did the other, 
 who was but a youth." 
 
 When thus unwearied in his labours 
 among the Indians, Mr. Eliot felt that he 
 could scarcely give that attention to his own 
 pastoral duties at Roxbury which their cir- 
 cumstances required. For some time his 
 brethren in the ministry had kindly lent him 
 their assistance ; but at length it was judged 
 expedient that a colleague should be ap- 
 pointed; and accordingly the Rev. Samuel 
 Danforth was chosen to fill that office. The 
 connection which Mr. Eliot thus formed was 
 attended with great advantage to the con- 
 gregation, and great comfort to himself. 
 
 The change which was effected in the out- 
 ward aspect of the Indian settlement was 
 soon remarkably striking. A town was 
 built, which they called Natick, consisting of 
 '' three fair streets ;" two of which stretched 
 along the Boston side of Charles River, and 
 one along the other. They were now con- 
 stituted into a regular community ; and, by 
 a solemn act of covenanting, they dedicated 
 themselves to the Lord. The Indians hav- 
 ing thus formed a civil and religious comnui- 
 nity, the Honourable John Endicott, gover- 
 
THE REV. JOHN ELIOT. 121 
 
 nor of Massachusetts, resolved to pay a visit 
 to Natick, with the view of inspecting their 
 real condition. The inquiry was in the high- 
 est degree satisfactory, and he declared, that 
 " he could hardly refrain from tears for very 
 joy, to see the diligent attention of the In- 
 dians to the word of God." 
 
 The following account of the death of a 
 converted Indian chief we give in Mr. Eliot's 
 own words : — " One of our principal men, 
 Wamporas, is dead. He made so gracious 
 an end of his life, embraced death with such 
 holy submission to the Lord, and was so 
 Httle terrified at it, as that he hath greatly 
 strengthened the faith of the living. I think 
 he did more good by his death than he could 
 have done by his life. One of his sayings 
 was, ' God giveth us three mercies in the 
 world ; the first is health and strength — the 
 second is food and clothes — the third is sick- 
 ness and death ; and when we have had our 
 share in the two first, why should we not be 
 willing to take our part in the third ?' His 
 last words were, Jehovah Jlnninumah Jesus 
 Christ ; that is, ^ Lord, give me Jesus 
 Christ.' When he could speak no more, he 
 continued to lift up his hands to heaven, ac- 
 cording as his strength lasted, unto his last 
 breath. When I visited him the last time, I 
 saw him in this world, one of his sayings 
 was this, — ' Four years and a quarter since, 
 I came to your house, and brought some of 
 my children to dwell with the English ; now, 
 wiien I die, I strongly entreat you, that vou 
 
 11 
 
122 MEMOIR OP 
 
 would strongly entreat elder Heath, and the 
 rest who have our children, that they may 
 be taught to know God, so that they may 
 teach their countrymen.' His heart was 
 much upon our intended work, to gather a 
 church among them. I told him that I 
 greatly desired he might live, if it were 
 God's will, to be one in that work ; but that 
 if he should now die, he should go to a bet- 
 ter church, where Abraham, and Isaac, and 
 Jacob, and Moses, and all the dead saints 
 were with Jesus Christ, in the presence of 
 God, in all happiness and glory. Turning 
 to the company who were present, he spake 
 unto them thus : — ' I now shall die, but 
 Jesus Christ calleth you that live to go to 
 JVatick, that there the Lord might rule over 
 you, that you might make a church, and 
 have the ordinances of God among you, be- 
 lieve his word, and do as he commandeth 
 you.' His gracious words were acceptable 
 and affecting. The Indians flocked together 
 to hear them. They beheld his death with 
 many tears ; nor am I able to write his story 
 without weeping." 
 
 The next object to which Mr. Eliot turned 
 his attention, was the formation of a Chris- 
 tian church among the Indians. For this 
 purpose, he continued to visit them weekly — 
 to catechize their children — and to instrnct 
 all, both young and adults, in the elements 
 of divine truth. At first his wish to form a 
 church among them was frustrated ; but at 
 length he had the happiness, with the appro- 
 
THE REV. JOHN ELIOT. 123 
 
 bation of the New England ministers, of 
 seeing a church formed at Natick. 
 
 In September, 1661, Mr. Eliot had the 
 high pleasure of seeing an edition of the 
 New Testament completed in the Indian 
 language, and printed at the expense of the 
 Society in England. This was followed in 
 two years by an edition of the Old, published 
 under the same benevolent patronage. Thus 
 was at length accompUshed, after much la- 
 bour and unwearied exertion, an entire ver- 
 sion of the Bible, in the language of the 
 North American Indians ; and when we re- 
 flect that John Eliot was among the first that 
 ever completed such a work, we cannot but 
 regard it as reflecting the highest honour 
 upon his Christian zeal and diligence, in the 
 cause of missions. " Behold, ye Americans," 
 exclaimed Dr. Mathieson, witnessing the 
 completion of this great work, — "behold 
 the greatest honour that ever you were par- 
 takers of! This Bible was printed here, at 
 our Cambridge ; and it is the only Bible that 
 ever Avas printed in all America, from the 
 very foundation of the world." The trans- 
 lation of the Bible was followed by that of 
 the Psalter, several copies of which were 
 bound up with the Bible, and then by seve- 
 ral smaller religious works, which were ex- 
 tensively circulated among the Indians. 
 
 That the great work in which Mr. Eliot 
 was engaged might be carried forward with 
 still greater efficiency, he endeavoured, by 
 all possible means, to induce others to embark 
 
124 MEMOIR OP ^ 
 
 in the same holy enterprise. He was soon 
 joined; accordingly, by several able and suc- 
 cessful ministers ; but what more than all 
 other things tended to strengthen and encou- 
 rage the heart of the apostolic Eliot, was the 
 Iiigh privilege which he enjoyed of seeing 
 his eldest son enter upon the same work. 
 " He bore," says Dr. Mather, " his father's 
 name, and he had his father's grace." This 
 young man laboured much, both among the 
 English and the Indians ; but his labours 
 were of short duration, for he was cut otfin 
 early life, and in the midst of his usefulness. 
 
 About two years before his son's death, 
 Mr. Eliot published an Indian Grammar, 
 which he dedicated to the Honourable Robert 
 Boyle as President, and to all the other 
 office-bearers and members, of the Society in 
 England for Propagating Christian Know- 
 ledge in New England. With the view of 
 still farther improving the understanding of 
 the Indians in general, and of the teachers 
 and rulers in particular, Mr. Eliot, about this 
 time, established a lecture at Natick, in 
 which he explained the leading doctrines of 
 theology and logic. Keeping ever in view 
 his grand object, the conversion of the In- 
 dians to the knowledge, the belief, and the 
 obedience of the truth as it is in Jesus, he 
 made use of all the means which Providence 
 placed in his power, to promote the mental 
 cultivation of the converts. 
 
 Mr. Eliot now directed his efforts towards 
 the publication of a second edition of his 
 
THE REV. JOHN ELIOT. 125 
 
 translation, first of the New, then of the Old 
 Testament. This important work he was 
 enabled to accomplish by the remittances 
 which from time to time he received from 
 England ; and it appears to have been one 
 of the last public employments of this inde- 
 fatigable missionary. He had now reached 
 the advanced age of fourscore years, and was 
 so weakened by the extent and variety of 
 his labours, that he was unable to preach to 
 the Indians oftener than once in two months. 
 An Indian pastor, named Daniel, presided 
 over the church at Natick, and almost all the 
 other Indian churches listened studiously to 
 the instructions of pastors from their own 
 tribes. Such a state of matters it had been 
 Mr. Eliot^s great wish to see, and the time 
 had come when he was ready to say, like 
 Simeon of old, " Now lettest thou thy ser- 
 vant depart in peace ; for mine eyes have 
 seen thy salvation." 
 
 Feeling himself no longer capable of dis- 
 charging his pastoral duties, Mr. Eliot v/ished 
 to resign his charge at Roxbury. To this, 
 however, his congregation would by no 
 means consent. In suggesting the election 
 of a colleague and successor, his conduct 
 was truly disinterested. — " 'Tis possible," 
 he said, when addressing them on the subject, 
 '• you may think the burden of maintain- 
 ing two ministers may be too heavy for you, 
 but I deliver you from that fear. I do here 
 give back my salary to the Lord Jesus 
 Christ; and now, brethren, you may fix that 
 11* 
 
126 MEMOIR OP 
 
 upon any man that God shall make a pastor 
 over you." His church, to their immortal 
 honour, assured him, that they would count 
 his very presence among them worth a salary, 
 when he should be altogether unable to do 
 them any farther service. The choice of 
 the congregation having fallen upon Mr. 
 Nehemiah Walter, a graduate of Harvard 
 College, a young man of great piety and 
 worth, the venerable pastor readily received 
 him, and like another Elijah, threw oti' his 
 robe and gave it to his successor. So com- 
 pletely satisfied was he, in fact with his 
 youthful brother, that he could scarcely be 
 prevailed upon to perform any public ser- 
 vice for a year or two before his death. 
 The last occasion on which he appears to 
 have preached, was on the day of a public 
 fast, when, after expounding with his wonted 
 clearness and simplicity the eighty-third 
 Psalm, he concluded with an apology to his 
 hearers for " the poorness, and meanness, 
 and brokenness of his meditations," — add- 
 ing, " My dear brother here will, by and by, 
 mend all." When at last compelled to ab- 
 stain from his public duties in the church, he 
 would say with a tone peculiar to himself, 
 " I wonder for what the Lord Jesus lets me 
 live — he knows that now I can do nothing 
 for him." But even when unable any longer 
 to preach to the English, he still continued 
 once a-week to catechise and instruct the 
 Indians. At length it was evident, that, in 
 the ordinary course of nature his end could 
 
THE REV. JOHN ELIOT. 127 
 
 not be far distant. Having been attacked 
 with a somewhat violent fever, lie rapidly 
 sunk under his disorder. While he lay in 
 the extremity of his sufferings, seeing Mr. 
 Walter come to him, and fearing that by 
 petitioning for his Ufe, he might detain him 
 in the vale of tears, he said, " Brother, thou 
 art welcome to my very soul. Pray retire 
 to thy study for me, and give me leave to be 
 gone." Having been asked how he did, he 
 answered, " Alas ! I have lost every thing ; 
 my understanding leaves me, — my memory 
 fails me ; my utterance fails me ; but I thank 
 God my charity holds out still ; I find that ra- 
 ther grows than fails." When speaking about 
 the propagation of the Gospel among the In- 
 dians, he remarked, " There is a cloud, a dark 
 cloud, upon the work of the Gospel among the 
 poor Indians. The Lord revive and prosper 
 that work, and grant that it may live when I 
 am dead. It is a work which I have been doing 
 much and long about. But what was the 
 word I spoke last ? I recall that word, my 
 doings ! Alas ! they have been poor, and 
 small, and lean doings ; and I'll be the man 
 that shall throw the first stone at them all." 
 He used many similar extraordinary and 
 precious expressions in his dying moments. 
 Among the last words he uttered were, 
 " Welcome joy ;" and his voice for ever 
 failed him in this world, while he repeated, 
 " Pray, Pray, Pray," He departed from 
 this life in the beginning of 1690, and in the 
 eighty-sixth year of his age. 
 
MEMOIR 
 
 OP 
 
 MRS. CATHERINE CLARKE. 
 
 WIFE OF THE HET. SAMUEL CLARKE. 
 
 Catherine Overton was bom at Bedworth, 
 ill the county of Warwick, four miles from 
 Coventry, P^ebruary 25th, 1602, of reHgious 
 parents. Her father was Mr. Valentine 
 Overton, Rector of Bedworth, where he lived 
 a constant and diligent preacher of God's 
 holy word till he was almost 82 years of 
 age. Her mother's maiden name was Isa- 
 verton: she was a most excellent woman, 
 who took the whole burthen of family affairs, 
 both within and without doors, from off her 
 husband, that he might with the more free- 
 dom attend his holy calling. 
 
 It pleased God early to implant in her 
 heart the seeds of grace, which first discover- 
 ed themselves when she was about fifteen 
 years old. The discoveries to which she was 
 at that time led, of the corruption of her na- 
 ture, made such a deep impression upon her 
 tender mind, that whereas she was naturally 
 of a cheerful, sanguine constitution, she now 
 became serious and somewhat melancholy. 
 128 
 
MRS. CATHERINE CLARKE. 129 
 
 Hereupon Satan, that old serpent and ene- 
 my of our souls, assaulted her with many 
 and various temptations, whereby he sought 
 to quench these heavenly sparks. But, by 
 frequent reading the sacred Scriptures, dili- 
 gent attending to the word preached, and 
 secret prayer, it pleased the all-wise God to 
 support and strengthen her against him and 
 all his devices. These conflicts continued 
 the longer, because she had none to whom 
 she durst unbosom herself, and make her 
 case known. 
 
 When she was about seventeen years old, 
 she was sent by her parents to Siwell, in 
 Northamptonshire, to wait upon a young 
 lady who was somewhat related to her. But 
 this kind of life was so tedious and irksome 
 to her, that, at the end of six months, she 
 prevailed with her parents to send for her 
 home again. Hear the narrative of it in her 
 own words, as they were found written in 
 her cabinet after her decease. " When," 
 saith she, " I was but young, my father be- 
 ing at prayers in his family, I many times 
 found such sweetness, and was so affected 
 therewith, that I could not but wish that my 
 heart might oftener be in such a frame. But 
 childhood, and the vanities thereof, soon 
 cooled these heavenly sparks. But my 
 father caused me to write sermons, and to 
 repeat the same ; as also to learn Mr. Per- 
 kins's Catechism, which I often repeated to 
 myself when I was alone ; and therein espe- 
 cially I took notice of those places wherein 
 
130 MEMOIR OF 
 
 he had set down the signs and marks of a 
 strong and a weak faith, being convinced in 
 my conscience that without faith I could not 
 be saved, and that every faith would not 
 serve to bring me to heaven. 
 
 " Hereupon I fell to examination of my- 
 self; and though I could not find the marks 
 of a strong, yet, through God's mercy, I 
 found the marks of a true, though weak 
 faith, which was some comfort and support 
 to me. And that God which began this 
 good work in me, was pleased to quicken 
 and stir me up to a diligent use of such 
 means as himself had ordained and appointed 
 for the increase thereof, as hearing the word 
 preached, receiving the sacrament of the 
 Lord's Supper, and use of other private 
 duties. 
 
 " But when I was about seventeen years 
 old, my parents sent me to wait upon a 
 young gentlewoman in Northamptonshire, 
 the only daughter of Sir W. W. ; at which 
 time, being sent so far from my near and 
 dear relations, and meeting with some other 
 discouragements in the family, through want 
 of the means of grace which I formerly en- 
 joyed, I grew very melancholy. I began 
 also to have great workings of conscience in 
 me ; and Satan, that deadly enemy to the 
 health and welfare of our souls, who like a 
 roaring lion walks about continually, seeking 
 whom he may devour, took his advantage, 
 through my ignorance of his devices, to raise 
 up fears, doubts, and terrors of conscience in 
 
MRS. CATHERINE CLARKE. 131 
 
 me, by reason of my manifold sins, and for 
 walking so unworthy of God's mercies 
 whilst I did enjoy them, and for being so im- 
 frnitfiil mider the means of grace, and so 
 unable to obey God, and to keep his com- 
 mandments ; and by reason hereof I had no 
 peace nor rest in my soul, night nor day, but 
 was persuaded that all the threatenings con- 
 tained in the book of God against wicked 
 and ungodly men did belong unto me, and 
 were my portion, as being one of them 
 against whom they were denounced; inso- 
 much that when I took up the Bible to read 
 therein, it was accompanied with much fear 
 and trembling; yet being convinced that it 
 was my duty frequently to read God's word, 
 I durst not omit or neglect it. 
 
 '^ Thus I continued a great while, bearing 
 the burden of grievous temptations and in- 
 ward afflictions of conscience ; yet durst I 
 not open the wound, nor reveal my condi- 
 tion to any, as thinking and judging my con- 
 dition and case to be like nobody's else. But 
 God, who is rich and infinite in mercy, and 
 Jesus Christ, who bought his elect at so dear 
 a rate, would not suffer any of his to be 
 lost ; and therefore he was graciously pleased 
 to preserve, strengthen, and uphold me by 
 his own power from sinking into hell through 
 despair, and from running out of my wits. 
 Thus, by reason of my continual grief and 
 anguish of heart night and day, I was so 
 weakened and changed within the compass 
 
132 MEMOIR OF 
 
 of these six months, that when I came home 
 my dear parents scarce knew me." 
 
 Some years after her return, she, for the 
 most part, continued in her father's family, 
 where, by a dihgent and conscientious use 
 of the means, both pubUc and private, slie 
 did thrive and grow in grace and in the 
 knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus 
 Christ, as she increased and grew in days and 
 years. 
 
 On February 2, 1625, (the same day on 
 which King Charles the First was crowned), 
 she was, with the consent of parents on both 
 sides, married to Mr. S. Clarke, at that time 
 minister at Shotwick, four miles beyond 
 West Chester ; who looked upon this match 
 as the greatest outward temporal blessing 
 that ever God bestowed upon him ; where- 
 by he could experimentally say, " that a pru- 
 dent wife is the gift of God," and that in the 
 possession of her he enjoyed more mercies 
 than he could well enumerate. But we 
 must descend to particulars, and proceed to 
 notice some of those virtues and graces 
 wherewith God had beautified and adorned 
 her soul. 
 
 Her piety was signal and exemplary. 
 She was a constant and diligent attendant 
 upon the public ministry of God's holy * 
 word ; and when she lived where she had 
 the opportunity of hearing lectures in the 
 Aveek day, she made choice to attend upon 
 those who were most plain, practical, and 
 
MRS. CATHERINE CLARKE. 133 
 
 powerful preachers ; and when days of hu- 
 miliation or thanksgiving came, she never 
 failed to make one among God's people in 
 the celebration of them. The Lord's-days 
 she carefully sanctified, both in public and in 
 private, rising earlier upon them than upon 
 others, especially when she had many young 
 children about her, that so she might have 
 opportunity as well for secret as for family 
 duties, before she was called away to the 
 public. She was, like David's door-keeper, 
 one of the first in and last out of God's 
 house. Her constant posture at prayer was 
 kneeling, thinking that she could not be too 
 humble before God. Her usual manner was 
 to write sermons, to prevent drowsiness and 
 distractions, and to help memory. Of these 
 she hath left many volumes ; and her prac- 
 tice was to make good use of them, by fre- 
 quent reading and meditating upon them ; 
 and if at any time she was cast into such 
 places and company as were a hinderance to 
 her in the strict sanctification of this holy 
 day, it was a grief and burden to her. 
 
 There was no day that passed over her 
 head, except sickness or some other unavoid- 
 able necessity prevented, wherein she did not 
 read some portions of the Sacred Scriptures, 
 both in the Old and New Testament, and 
 of the Psalms ; and in reading, she took 
 special notice of such passages as most con- 
 cerned herself She Was frequent and con 
 stant in secret prayer and meditation. She 
 also read much in other good books, espe- 
 
 12 
 
134 MEMOIR OP 
 
 cially in the works of those eminent and 
 excellent divines, Mr. Ambrose and Mr. 
 Reyner ; and in reading of them, she used to 
 transcribe such passages as most warmed her 
 heart. 
 
 She never neglected any opportunity of 
 receiving the sacrament of the Lord's Sup- 
 per, and before her coming to it, was very 
 strict and serious in the duty of self-examina- 
 tion ; and for her furtherance therein, at such 
 times, she read some of those books that 
 treated upon that subject. The fruits of her 
 holiness manifested themselves in the exer- 
 cise of those graces which God required of 
 her. She was not a nominal, but a real 
 Christian ; a true Israelite, in whom was no 
 guile. Her endeavour was to yield univer- 
 sal, constant, cheerful, and sincere obedience 
 to all God's commandments, and wherein 
 she failed and came short, it was her grief 
 and burden. Her meditations upon what 
 she heard and read were frequent ; and her 
 heart having " indited a good matter, her 
 tongue was tis the pen of a ready writer,'^ 
 taking opportunities to speak to the edifica- 
 tion of those with whom she conversed. 
 
 She filled up every relation with the exer- 
 cise of such graces and duties as were suit- 
 able thereto ; knowing that where relative 
 duties are neglected, and not made conscience 
 of, there also our pretended religion is in 
 vain. As a wife, she was singular and very 
 exemplary in that reverence and obedience 
 which she yielded to her liusband, both in 
 
MRS. CATHERINE CLARKE. 135 
 
 words and deeds. In his absence, she would 
 pray with her family morning and evening : 
 the like she would do in his presence, in case 
 of his sickness and inability to perform the 
 duty himself. In that case, she was also a 
 tender and diligent nurse about him, skilful 
 and careful in making him broths and what 
 else was needful for him. If at any time 
 she saw him in passion, with sweet and 
 gentle words she would mollify and mode- 
 rate it. She was often a spur, but never a 
 bridle to him in those things which were 
 good. She was always well pleased with 
 such habitations as, in their many removes, 
 he provided for her ; and with such apparel 
 and diet as his means, which were some- 
 times short, would allov/. She never mur- 
 mured at any of those dispensations which 
 God's all-wise providence carved out to 
 them. 
 
 As a mother to her children, whereof God 
 gave her nine, four sons and five daughters, 
 she was most exemplary, nursing them all 
 herself. She loved them dearly without fond- 
 ness ; was careful to give them nurture as 
 well as nourishment, not sparing the rod 
 when there was just occasion ; and as soon 
 as they were capable, she was vigilant and 
 diligent to season their tender years with 
 grace and virtue, by instilling into them the 
 first grounds and principles of religion : and 
 as they grew up, she did more freely discover 
 her tender affection to them, by instruction, 
 advice, and good counsel, as there was occa- 
 
136 MEMOIR OP 
 
 sion; and when they were disposed of 
 abroad, by her gracious letters, and hearty 
 instructions at their meetings, she laboured 
 to build them up in grace and godliness. 
 And God was pleased to let her see, to her 
 great joy and comfort, the fruit of her pray- 
 ers and pains, in keeping them from scanda- 
 lous courses, and in working grace in most 
 of their hearts. 
 
 As a mistress, she was careful, as far as 
 she could, to bring such as were religious, at 
 least seemingly so, into her family ; and 
 having occasion to be much in their com- 
 pany, she would take all occasions and 
 opportunities to manifest her love and care 
 of their souls by frequently dropping in good 
 counsel and wholesome instructions, by cate- 
 chising, inquiring what they remembered of 
 the sermons they heard, reading her notes to 
 them, encouraging them in what was good, 
 and with the spirit of meekness blaming them 
 for what was evil: and, for housewifery and 
 household atlairs, she instructed their igno- 
 rance, commended and encouraged what 
 they did well ; and herself being of an active 
 disposition, and having her hand in most 
 businesses, set them a pattern and gave them 
 an example how to order the same. She 
 was careful so far as possibly she could, to 
 prevent all spoil, and to see that they did not 
 eat the bread of idleness. 
 
 Towards her friends, and her own and her 
 husband's relations, she was courteous and 
 amiable in her deportment, free and hearty 
 
MRS. CATHERINE CLARKE. 137 
 
 in their entertainment. She would have 
 plenty without want, and competency with- 
 out superfluity ; and all so neatly and well 
 ordered, that none who came to her table, 
 Av^hereof some were persons of honour and 
 quaUty, but commended her cookery, and 
 were well pleased with their entertainment. 
 
 In her household furniture she loved not 
 to want, nor desired more than was needful. 
 It was, though not costly, yet cleanly, and 
 she was frequent in repairing and mending 
 decays and what was amiss. For her ap- 
 parel, she was never willing to have that 
 which was costly for the matter, or showy 
 for the manner ; rather under than above her 
 rank. For the fashion of it, it was grave 
 and exemplary, without levity. She fol- 
 io v/ed Peter's directions which he gave to 
 Christian women in his time, 1 Peter iii. 3, 
 &c. " Whose adorning, let it not be that 
 outward adorning of plaiting the hair, and 
 of wearing of gold, or of putting on of ap- 
 parel ; but let it be the hidden man of the 
 heart, in that which is not corruptible, even 
 the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, 
 which is in the sight of God of great price. 
 For after this manner, in old time, the holy 
 women who trusted in God adorned them- 
 selves, being in subjection unto their own 
 husbands." 
 
 She was very charitable to the poor 
 wherever she lived, according to that estate 
 wherewith God had intrusted her. She was 
 ready to relieve such as were objects of 
 
 12* 
 
138 MEMOIR OF 
 
 charity with meat or drink, and to lend them 
 money, and to minister some physical things, 
 whereof her closet was never empty, accor- 
 ding as their necessities required. She had 
 a very tender heart, and truly sympathized 
 with the church and people of God, whether 
 at home or abroad, in all their sufferings, 
 and rejoiced in their prosperity. 
 
 Her humility was not inferior to her other 
 graces. She had always a very low esteem 
 of herself, and was ready to prefer others 
 before herself, and would not take it ill when 
 her inferiors were set above her. She well 
 remembered the Apostle Peter's charge: "All 
 of you be subject one to another, and be 
 clothed with humility. For God resisteth 
 the proud, and giveth grace to the humble.'' 
 And that of Paul, Rom. xii. 10; "In honour 
 preferring one another." 
 
 Her love to God, to his ordinances, and to 
 his children, was hearty and without dissim- 
 ulation. " She abhorred that which was 
 evil, and clave to that which was good.'' 
 She was of so sweet and meek a disposition, 
 that she never used to speak evil of any, 
 but was ever prone to forgive and forget 
 wrongs. 
 
 She was very prudent in managing her 
 household affairs to the best advantage. She 
 would have divers dishes of meat with little 
 cost, yet so dressed and ordered, as made 
 them grateful and pleasing to all. She was 
 careful to see that nothing was lost or 
 spoiled. By her wise and frugal managing 
 
MRS. CATHERINE CLARKE. 139 
 
 her household, though her husband had 
 never much commg in, yet at the year's end 
 he could always save something : so that 
 " her price to him was far above rubies. 
 His heart trusted in her : for she did him 
 good, and not evil, all the days of her life," 
 Prov. xxxi. 10, 11, 12. 
 
 In her younger days she was healthful, of 
 a cheerful and active spirit, and abhorring 
 idleness. In her old age, though she was 
 infirm, yet, whilst she could stand, she would 
 be about one kind of work or other. She 
 bore her weakness and afflictions with much 
 patience and holy submission to the will and 
 good pleasure of God. She was so uniform 
 in the frame of her spirit, and so maintained 
 her peace with God through her holy and 
 humble walking, that when death, many 
 times in her sickness, threatened to seize 
 upon her, she feared it not, as knowing that 
 it would be gain and advantage to her. 
 Concerning which, hear what she herself left 
 in writing, which was found after her 
 decease. 
 
 " In my younger days, my spiritual afflic- 
 tions and inward troubles continued long 
 before I could attain to any assurance of my 
 salvation ; but of late years it hath pleased 
 God, of his infinite mercy and free grace, to 
 give me more assurance of his unchangeable 
 love through faith in his rich and free pro- 
 mises of life and salvation, through Jesus 
 Christ, who is precious to my soul, and who 
 is the author and finisher of my faith, God 
 
140 MEMOIR OF 
 
 blessed for evermore : to whom be praise 
 and glory, world without end. Amen." 
 
 In her converse with her friends, "she 
 opened her mouth with wisdom, and in her 
 tongue was the law of kindness," Prov. 
 xxxi. 26, which made her company grateful 
 to all, and burdensome or undervalued by 
 none. Divers years before her death, upon 
 catching cold, she had many fits of sickness 
 and weakness, and some of them were so 
 violent as brought her near unto death ; yet 
 the Lord had mercy upon her husband and 
 family, in raising her up again almost beyond 
 hope and expectation. And she was always 
 a gainer by her afflictions, God making good 
 that promise to her, Rom. viii. 28, " All 
 things work together for good to them that 
 love God, to them who are called accor- 
 ding to his purpose ;" for, after those fits, she 
 walked more humbly, holily, fruitfully, and 
 faithfully, both in her general and particular 
 calling, as one that waited daily for the 
 appearing of her Lord and Master. The 
 winter before her death, she enjoyed better 
 health than she had done for some years 
 before. 
 
 May 25, 1675, some friends came from 
 London to dine with her ; and that morning, 
 according to her usual custom in such cases, 
 she was careful and busy in providing for 
 their kind entertainment. But it pleased 
 God, whilst they were at dinner, to strike 
 her with a kind of shivering, which made 
 her look paler than ordinary ; and after din- 
 
MRS. CATHERINE CLARKE, 141 
 
 ner her distemper continued, so that she was 
 soon confined to her chamber, and not long 
 after, for the most part to tier bed. But 
 herein God showed her great mercy, and had 
 respect to her weakness, in that during all 
 the time of her languishing she was free 
 from sickness and pain. 
 
 As to the state of her soul, during all the 
 time of her sickness, she enjoyed constant 
 peace and serenity, and had, through God's 
 mercy, much joy and peace in believing ; 
 Satan, that roaring lion, who uses to be most 
 strong when we are most weak, being so 
 chained up by God that he had no power to 
 molest her. She often cried out, " Hold out, 
 faith and patience." She told her nearest 
 relation, when she saw him mourning over 
 her, that she was going to be joined to a 
 better husband. 
 
 Her youngest son taking his leave of her 
 the day before her death, she gave him 
 much heavenly counsel for the good of his 
 soul, and blessed him, and all his, as she did 
 the rest of her children and grand-children. 
 She earnestly desired to be dissolved, and 
 breathed after a fuller enjoyment of Jesus 
 Christ, which she accounted best of all. She 
 would sometimes say, " that it was a hard 
 thing to die ; and, " this is a hard work." 
 Her understanding, memory, and speech, 
 continued till within two minutes of death ; 
 and a Uttle before, her daughter speaking to 
 her of Jesus Christ, she replied, " My God 
 and my Lord ;" and so, June 21, 1675, about 
 
142 MEMOIR OF 
 
 five o'clock in the morning, she fell asleep, 
 exchanging this life for a better, without any 
 alteration in her conntenance, but only that 
 her colour was gone. She closed up her 
 eyes herself, as wlio should say, "It is but 
 winking, and I shall be in heaven." She 
 "changed her place, but not her company.'^ 
 She was seventy-three years and about four 
 months of age, and had been married almost 
 fifty years. 
 
 After Mrs. Clarke's decease, there was 
 found in her cabinet a paper which, by fre- 
 quent using, was almost worn out. It con- 
 tained a collection of these several texts of 
 Scripture, which she had recourse to in times 
 of temptation or desertion. 
 
 "Who is among you that feareth the 
 Lord ; that obeyeth the voice of his servant ; 
 that walketh in darkness and hath no light : 
 let him trust in the name of the Lord, and 
 stay upon his God," Isa. 1. 10. 
 
 '« For the name of the Lord is a strong 
 tower : the righteous run unto it, and are 
 safe," Prov. xviii. 10. "Thou wilt keep 
 him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed 
 on thee, because he trusteth in thee," Isa. 
 xxvi. 3. 
 
 " Blessed is the man that maketh the Lord 
 his trust," Psa. xl. 4. 
 
 " Blessed is the man to whom the Lord 
 imputeth not sin," Psa. xxxii. 2. 
 
 " Though our hearts may fail us, and our 
 flesh may fail us, yet God will never fail 
 us," Psa. Ixxiii. 26. "For he hath said, 1 
 
MRS. CATHERINE CLARKE. 143 
 
 will never leave thee nor forsake thee," 
 Heb. xiii. 5. 
 
 And again, " I will be a father unto yon, 
 and ye shall be my soqs and daughters, saith 
 the Lord Almighty," 2 Cor. vi. 18. 
 
 " I, even I, am he that blotteth out thy 
 transgressions for mine own sake, and will 
 not remember thy sins," Isa. xUv. 25. 
 
 " My grace is suihcient for thee : for my 
 strength is made perfect in weakness," 
 2 Cor. xii. 9. 
 
 " By grace ye are saved through faith, 
 and that not of yourselves," Eph. ii. 8. 
 
 " I give unto them eternal life, and they 
 shall never perish, neither shall any man 
 pluck them out of my hand," John x. 28. 
 
 " Who are kept by the power of God, 
 through faith unto salvation," 1 Peter i, 5. 
 
 " The foundation of God standeth sure, 
 having this seal : the Lord knoweth them that 
 are his," 2 Tim. ii. 19. 
 
 " There is therefore now no condenination 
 to them which are in Christ Jesus, who walk 
 not after the flesh, but after the spirit," 
 Rom. viii. 1. 
 
 " Christ is the end of the law for righteous- 
 ness to every one that belie veth," Rom. 
 iv. 10. 
 
 "It is God that justifieth: who is he that 
 condemneth?" Rom. viii. 33, 34. 
 
 " The promise is to you, and to your chil- 
 dren, and to all that are afar off; even as 
 many as the Lord our God shall call," 
 Acts ii. 39. 
 
144 MEMOIR OF 
 
 " The gifts and calling of God are without 
 repentance," Rom. xi. 29. 
 
 These texts of Scripture having been as so 
 many cordials to her in times of temptation, 
 ii is hoped that they may prove so to others, 
 and therefore for their sakes they are here 
 set down. And hereby it appears that she 
 was not without some shakings ; but, through 
 God's mercy, they were such as made her 
 strike root the faster ; and by her prudent 
 and seasonable holding forth the shield of 
 faith, and the sword of the Spirit, she became 
 more than a conqueror through Him that 
 had loved her. 
 
 In a httle book, which was found after her 
 death, she gives this account of herself, and 
 of God's gracious dealing with her. 
 
 " From the beginning of God's showing 
 me mercy in my conversion, I here set down 
 God's gracious dealings with me, not for 
 mine own praise, but for the glory of God, 
 and to stir up my heart to true thankfulness 
 for such invaluable mercies." After setting 
 down the time, manner, and means of her 
 conversion, she thus proceeds : 
 
 " What have been my experiences of 
 God's gracious dealings with me, at several 
 times, under afflictions ; as when personal 
 afflictions have lain upon me, in regard of 
 bodily sickness or spiritual distempers ; or, 
 family afflictions, when God hath taken 
 away my dear children ; or, when I have 
 been under fears that God would take 
 away my dear husband, by some dan- 
 
MRS. CATHERINE CLARKE. 145 
 
 gerous sickness which he lay under, or, 
 when I have been under great fears in the 
 time of our civil wars ; or when I have 
 been under spiritual desertion, by God's 
 hiding his face and favour from me ; or, 
 by reason of weakness, and wants in grace ; 
 or, by reason of strong and prevailing cor- 
 ruptions; or, by reason of Satan's tempta- 
 tions." 
 
 The memorial records God's gracious dis- 
 pensations towards her, under these varied 
 circumstances. Some extracts are subjoined. 
 
 " It pleased God for many years to keep 
 me for the most part in a sad and disconso- 
 late estate and condition, not clearly evi- 
 dencing the certain assurance of his love to 
 my soul ; so that many times I questioned 
 whether I was a child of God or not; 
 whether I had part in Jesus Christ or not : 
 whether I should ever attain to life and sal- 
 vation or no : and this made me walk with 
 a drooping and disconsolate spirit, so that I 
 could take no true comfort in any thing. 
 But though * heaviness endured for a night, 
 yet joy came in the morning,' when the 
 Lord caused the light of his countenance to 
 shine upon me, which was better than life. 
 
 " It pleased God, upon the death of my 
 youngest child, that it lay very heavy upon 
 my spirit, insomuch that I was brought oft 
 upon my knees to beg support from God, 
 and to crave his grace and assistance, that I 
 might not break out to speak or act any 
 thing whereby God's name might be dis- 
 
 13 
 
146 MEMOIR OF 
 
 honoured, or the gospel discredited ; and 
 that he would be pleased to make up this 
 outward loss with some more durable and 
 spiritual comforts. And I found a season- 
 able, gracious, and speedy answer to these 
 my requests : for, though I lay long under 
 the burden of that loss, yet in this time did 
 the Lord sweetly manifest his special love to 
 my soul, assuring me that he was my gra- 
 cious and reconciled Father in Christ, where- 
 by my love to him was much increased, and 
 even inflamed ; so tliat by his grace, it 
 wrought in me more diligence and careful- 
 ness to maintain and preserve these evidences 
 of his love, and to yield a holy submission 
 unto his will, as well in sutfering as in doing ; 
 as also by avoiding whatsoever might provoke 
 him to withdraw the evidences of his love 
 from me, without the sense whereof I could 
 take little or no comfort in any thing. 
 
 ^' And furthermore I bless God for it, and 
 speak it to the praise and glury of his rich 
 and free grace, my prayers and earnest de- 
 sires have been answered by God's giving 
 me comfortable assurance, both from the 
 testimony of his holy word and the witness 
 of his blessed Spirit, of my eternal and 
 everlasting salvation, in and by Jesus Christ. 
 Yet have I not been without fears and doubt- 
 ings many times, through want of looking 
 over my evidences, or by neglecting to keep 
 a narrow watch over my heart ; or from weak- 
 ness of my faith ; and all through my own 
 fault and negligence. The Lord pardon it, 
 
MRS. CATHERINE CLARKE. 147 
 
 and make me more circumspect for the time 
 to come. 
 
 "By all these I have gained this expe- 
 rience : 
 
 " First : That God is true and faithful in 
 making good all his promises seasonably 
 unto us ; as, that all things shall work to- 
 gether for our good ; and that God will 
 never fail us nor forsake us, &c. 
 
 " Secondly : That it is not in vain to wait 
 upon God, and to seek unto him in our 
 straits, who is more ready to hear than we 
 are to ask. 
 
 " Thirdly : That I desire to see, yea, and 
 the Lord hath showed me the vanity and un- 
 certainty of the most satisfying comforts that 
 this world can afford, and what an emptiness 
 there is in them, that so I may, and I desire 
 so to do, keep weaned affections towards 
 them, and to sit loose from them, that I may 
 be ready to part with them when God calls 
 them from me, or me from them. 
 
 "Again, in regard of bodily weakness 
 and sickness, my experiences have been 
 these : 
 
 " First : That as a broken shoulder can 
 bear no burden, so the least distemper, when 
 the heart is not in a holy frame and temper, 
 is a burden insupportable. If God hides his 
 face from us, and withdraws the evidences 
 of his love, and denies to assist us by his 
 strength, we can neither do nor suffer any 
 thing. And on the contrary I found, by ex- 
 perience, that I could with much cheerful- 
 
148 MEMOIR OF 
 
 ness, holy submission, and willingness, bear 
 great distempers, wlien I enjoyed the favour 
 of God in them : so that then I could readily 
 say, « Good is the work of the Lord,' as well 
 as his word. And, * I will bear the indigna- 
 tion of the Lord, because I have sinned 
 against him,' JNlic. vii. 9. And, <■ though he 
 slay me, yet will I trust in him.' Job xiii. 15. 
 
 " Secondly, I found by experience also, 
 that by my pains and sickness I was the 
 better able to sympathize with, and to pity 
 and pray for, others in the like case. 
 
 " Thirdly, Hereby I learned the more to 
 prize health : and that, because in health we 
 have liberty and opportunity to enjoy the 
 public ordinances with others of God's peo- 
 ple, whereby the graces of God's peo- 
 ple are quickened, strengthened, and in- 
 creased in us : which otherwise, by reason 
 of our corrupt natures, are apt to grow cold 
 and languish, as will our bodies when they 
 want food ; because in health we enjoy the 
 benefit and the comfort of sweet and quiet 
 sleep, which much refreshes and cheers, and 
 which commonly we want in sickness : be- 
 cause in health we find sweet satisfying com- 
 fort in the use of God's good creatures ; 
 whereas in sickness the daintiest food is 
 loathsome and troublesome. The considera- 
 tion of these things made me the more to 
 prize health ; to be very thankful for it, and 
 the more careful to employ and improve 
 health and strength to God's glory, and the 
 furtherance of mine own salvation." 
 
MRS. CATHERINE CLARKE. 149 
 
 " In regard of public dangers, 1 have had 
 a great deal of experience of God's goodness 
 towards me and mine several ways, and at 
 several times. For, 
 
 " First : When, in the beginning of our 
 civil wars and distractions, I was sometimes 
 overwhehned with base and distrustful fears, 
 occasioned by my not acting faith upon the 
 promises, and not remembering my former 
 experiences, nor considering God's love, 
 power, and fideUty to his children, in per- 
 forming his so many gracious promises, made 
 unto them in all estates and conditions, and 
 to me among the rest: hereupon I resolved, 
 by God's grace and assistance, not to give 
 way to this distrust and diffidence, praying 
 God to assist me therein, and I found more 
 courage than formerly, so far as I know mine 
 own heart; though truly the heart is very 
 deceitful, as I have found by sad experience. 
 The Lord teach and enable me to rely upon 
 him with more courage and constancy, and 
 more to live by faith upon his promises than 
 formerly I have done. 
 
 " Indeed, I have been apt to fall into new 
 fears upon approaching dangers ; yet, upon 
 successes and glorious deliverances, I have 
 oft resolved never to distrust God again, and 
 yet my naughty heart hath deceived me and 
 made me ready to faint. But this I found by 
 experience, to the praise of my God's free 
 grace, that as troubles have abounded, my 
 consolations have much more abounded : for 
 God brought seasonably into my mind many 
 13* 
 
150 MEMOIR OF 
 
 precious promises, which were as so many 
 sweet cordials which much supported and 
 comforted my heart, and upheld my spirit ; 
 when also new storms have arisen and un- 
 expected deliverances have followed, I have 
 resolved and do resolve, by God's grace, not 
 to distrust him any more. Yea, though 
 more and greater dangers shall arise, yet 
 will I trust in and stay myself upon him, 
 though, as Job said, ^ he should slay me.' 
 The good Lord establish my heart in this 
 good and holy resolution, who is able to keep 
 us to the end, and hath promised that he 
 < will preserve us by his power, through faith, 
 to the salvation of our souls.' " 
 
 " In regard to Satan's temptations, es- 
 pecially concerning my coming to the sacra- 
 ment of the Lord's Supper, my experiences 
 have been these : 
 
 " Finding often that I was very unable to 
 fit and prepare myself for a comfortable ap- 
 proach to that sacred ordinance, I used to de- 
 sire the prayers of the congregation unto God 
 in my behalf, and I used the best endeavours 
 I could in private, as God enabled me, though 
 I came far short of what was required, and 
 of what I desired ; so that I did trust and 
 hope, through God's mercy, to find a com- 
 fortable day of it, and to have it a sealing 
 ordinance to my soul. But, on the contrary, 
 I found much deadness and little spiritual 
 taste, relish and comfort in the use of it : so 
 that my spirit was oft much troubled and 
 cast down in me, fearing lest I had some 
 
MRS. CATHERINE CLARKE. 151 
 
 secret sin undiscovered and unrepented of, 
 which caused the Lord thus to hide his face 
 from nie. 
 
 " But then my gracious God brought this 
 into my mind, that the Lord doth sometimes 
 afflict us for the exercise and improvement 
 of our graces, as well as to humble us for 
 our sins. I also considered, that as the Lord 
 doth tender great mercies to us in this sacra- 
 ment, renewing his covenant of grace, and 
 sealing unto us the pardon of our sins in the 
 blood of Christ ; so he gives us leave to en- 
 gage ourselves, by renewing our covenant 
 with him, to believe in him, and to trust upon 
 Christ for life and salvation : and it pleased 
 God to give me faith to apply this in particular 
 to my own soul ; and a while after to show me 
 and to make good to my soul that precious 
 and comfortable promise, that though 'he hide 
 his face from us for a little moment, yet with 
 mercy and loving-kindness he will return to 
 us asrain. This was a wonderful comfort 
 and support to my dejected heart. Blessed 
 be the Lord for ever ! I desire to treasure 
 up these experiences, that for the future I 
 may resolve in the like case to put my wliole 
 trust and confidence in him, that so Satan 
 may not entrap me in his snares through un- 
 belief, but that I may resist ' him steadfast in 
 the faith :' for I am not altogether ignorant 
 of his devices. God's promise is, that ^ in 
 all these things we shall be more than con- 
 querors, through him that hath loved us,' 
 and hath said, that ' this is the victory which 
 
152 MEMOIR OF 
 
 overcometh the world, even our faith.' " 1 
 John V. 4. 
 
 " In the year 1669, there came to us the 
 sad news of the death of my second son, 
 Mr. John Clarke, a godly and faithful min- 
 ister, rector of Cotgrave, in Nottinghamshire, 
 who died the ISth of September. Thus, as 
 the waves of the sea follow one another, so 
 God is pleased to exercise his cliildren with 
 one affliction after another. He sees that 
 whilst we carry about with us this body of 
 sin, we have need of manifold trials and 
 temptations, as saith the Apostle, 1 Pet. i. 6, 
 ' Now for a season ye are in heaviness, if 
 need be, through manifold temptation;' to 
 keep us under, and to make us the better to 
 remember ourselves. 
 
 <• Indeed, it hath been the Lord's course 
 and dealing with me ever since he stopped 
 me in the way as I was posting to hell, to 
 raise up one affliction or other, either inward 
 or outward, either from Satan, the world, or 
 from mine own corrupt heart and nature ; 
 not having grace and wisdom to behave and 
 carry myself as I ought under his various 
 dispensations and providences, as appeared 
 at this time by his laying so great and 
 grievous an affliction upon me, in taking away 
 so dear a son, from whom I had mifch soul- 
 comfort, and ardent affections, which he 
 manifested by his fervent prayers for me, and 
 by his spiritual letters and writings to me, 
 wherein he applied himself suitably to my 
 comfort in those inward troubles of heart 
 
MRS. CATHERINE CLARKE. 153 
 
 and spirit which lay upon me. This caused 
 my grief and sorrows to take tiie greater 
 hold of me, upon the loss of one who was 
 so useful to me ; yet, hereby I do not dero- 
 gate from my elder son, from whom I have 
 the like help and comfort. 
 
 '^ Upon this sad occasion my grief grew so 
 great that I took no pleasure of any thing in 
 the world j but was so overwhelmed with 
 melancholy, and my natural strength was so 
 abated, that little food served me, and I 
 judged that I could not live long in such a 
 condition. 
 
 " Hereupon I began to examine my heart 
 why it should be so with me, and whether 
 carnal and immoderate affections were not 
 the great cause of my trouble, which I much 
 feared ; and having used many arguments, 
 and laid down many reasons to myself to 
 quiet and moderate my passions, and yet 
 nothing prevailed to quiet and calm my heart, 
 and to bow me to the obedience of his re- 
 vealed will ; and withal, considering that it 
 was God only that could quiet the heart, and 
 set our unruly and carnal affections into an 
 holy frame and order, and that he was ^a 
 present help in times of trouble ;' I often and 
 earnestly sought unto the Lord with many 
 prayers and tears, beseeching him to quiet 
 my heart, and to overpower and tame my 
 unruly affections, so as to be willing to sub- 
 mit unto him, and to bear his afflicting hand 
 patiently and fruitfully, and to be ready 
 and willing to submit, either in doing or 
 
154 MEMOIR OP 
 
 suffering, to whatsoever he pleased to impose 
 upon me, and to be ready to part with the 
 best outward comfort I enjoyed, whensoever 
 he should please to call for the same. 
 
 ^' And it pleased God seasonably to hear 
 my prayer, to regard my tears, and to grant 
 my requests, by calming and quieting my 
 heart and spirit, and by giving me much 
 more contentedness to submit to his holy will 
 and good pleasure, who is a ^ God of judg- 
 ment,' and knows the fittest times and 
 seasons to come in with refreshing comforts, 
 and who < waits to be gracious' unto those 
 that trust in him. Yet surely I was not 
 without many temptations in this hour of 
 darkness, from that subtle adversary, who 
 always stands at watch, to insinuate and 
 frame his temptations answerable to our con- 
 ditions, and like a ' roaring lion walks about 
 continually, seeking to devour' poor, yet 
 precious souls. Then I ^called upon the 
 Lord in my distress, and he answered me 
 and dehvered me.' 
 
 " Bless the Lord, my soul ! and all that 
 is within me bless his holy name !' For he 
 hath remembered me in my low and troubled 
 estate, because ' his mercy endureth for ever.' 
 
 " Having thus had new experience of God's 
 readiness to hear and help when I called 
 upon him ; and having found that it is not in 
 vain to seek to and to depend upon God in 
 all our straits, I could not but record these 
 things, that so * every one that is godly may 
 seek unto him in a time wherein he may be 
 
MRS. CATHERINE CLARKE. 155 
 
 found,' who is a ^present help' m times of 
 trouble, and who doth for us < abundantly 
 above what we can ask or think.' 
 
 " The Lord knows that I write these 
 things for no other end, but that God may 
 have the glory, and that others, especially 
 my relations, may be encouraged to seek God 
 in their straits, and to trust in him at all 
 times. Amen." 
 
MEMOIR 
 
 OF 
 
 LADY HUNTI^^GDON. 
 
 Selina, Countess of Huntingdon, was the 
 daughter of Washington, Earl Ferrers. She 
 was born August 24, 1707, and married June 
 3, 1728, to Theophilus, Earl of Huntingdon. 
 
 When about nine years old, seeing the 
 corpse of a child about her own age carried 
 by to the grave, she was led to attend the 
 funeral; and there the first impressions of 
 deep concern about an eternal world laid 
 hold of her conscience ; and with many tears 
 she cried earnestly on the spot to God, that 
 whenever he should be pleased to call her 
 hence, he would deliver her from all her 
 fears, and give her a happy departure. She 
 often afterwards visited the grave, and al- 
 ways preserved a lively sense of the affect- 
 ing scene. 
 
 Though no clear views of evangelical 
 truth had hitherto been opened to her mind, 
 she frequently retired to her closet, and 
 poured out her heart to God. When she 
 grew up, and was introduced into the world, 
 she constantly prayed, that if she married 
 it might be into a serious family. None 
 156 
 
LADY HUNTINGDON. 157 
 
 kept up more of the ancient dignity of Eng- 
 lish nobihty, or were more amiable in a mo- 
 ral view, than the house of Huntingdon, 
 with the head of which family she became 
 united. Lady Betty and Lady Margaret 
 Hastings, his lordship's sisters, were women 
 of singular excellence. 
 
 Her sister-in-law. Lady Margaret, was 
 brought to the saving knowledge of the gos- 
 pel under the preaching of the zealous 
 Methodists of that time. Conversing one 
 day with Lady Margaret on this subject. 
 Lady Huntingdon was very much struck 
 with an expression which she uttered, " That 
 since she had known and beheved in the 
 Lord Jesus Christ for life and salvation, she 
 had been as happy as an angel.'' To any 
 such sensations of happiness, Lady H. felt 
 that she was as yet a stranger. A dangerous 
 illness having soon after this brought her to 
 the brink of the grave, the fear of death fell 
 terribly upon her, and her conscience was 
 greatly distressed. Under these affecting 
 circumstances, the words of Lady Margaret 
 returned strongly to her recollection, and she 
 felt an earnest desire, renouncing all other 
 hope, to cast herself wholly upon Christ. 
 She lifted up her heart to Jesus the Saviour 
 in prayer, on which her distress and fear 
 were removed, and she was filled with joy 
 and peace in believing. Her disorder soon 
 took a favourable turn, and she was not only 
 restored to perfect health, but, what was in- ^ 
 finitely better, to newness of life, and deter- ' 
 
 14 
 
158 MEMOIR OF 
 
 mined thenceforward to present herself to 
 God " as a living sacrifice, holy and accep- 
 table," which she was now convinced was 
 her " reasonable service." 
 
 The change which Divine grace thus 
 wrought upon her, soon became observable 
 to all around, by the open confession which 
 she made of the faith once delivered to the 
 saints, and by the zealous support which she 
 gave to the cause of God, amidst all the re- 
 proach with which it was attended. She 
 had set her face as a flint, and was not 
 ashamed of Christ and his cross. There 
 were not wanting indeed some who under 
 the guise of friendship, wished Lord Hunt- 
 ingdon to interpose his authority; but, how- 
 ever he diftered from her in sentiment, he 
 continued to show her the same affection and 
 respect, and, on his demise, left her the entire 
 management of her children and of their 
 fortunes. 
 
 Some of the dignified clergy were not so 
 candid and liberal, as appears from the fol- 
 lov/ing authentic anecdote. Her ladyship, 
 one day, in conversation with Dr. Benson, 
 bishop of Gloucester, (who had beeu the 
 tutor of Lord H. and had ordained Mr. 
 Whitefield,) pressed him so hard with the 
 articles and homilies, and so plainly and 
 faithfully urged upon him the awful responsi- 
 bility of his station, that his temper was 
 ruffled, and he rose in haste to depart, bitterly 
 lamenting that he had ever laid his hands on 
 George Whitefield, to whom he imputed, 
 
LADY HUNTINGDON. 159 
 
 though without cause, the change wrought 
 in her Ladyship : " My Lord/' said she, 
 calUng him back, " Mark my words : when 
 you come upon your dying bed, that will be 
 one of the few ordinations you will reflect 
 upon with complacence." It deserves re- 
 mark, that bishop Benson on his dying bed 
 sent ten guineas to Mr. Whitefield, as a token 
 of his favour, and begged to be remembered 
 by him in his prayers. 
 
 During Lord Huntingdon's life, his count- 
 ess warmly espoused the cause of God and 
 truth, though her means of usefulness were 
 necessarily circumscribed, and her family 
 engagements occupied much of her time and 
 attention. Become her own mistress, she 
 resolved to devote herself wholly to the ser- 
 vice of Christ. Her zealous heart embraced 
 cordially all whom she esteemed real Chris- 
 tians, whatever their denomination or opin- 
 ions might be ; but being herself in sentiment 
 more congenial with Mr. Whitefield, than 
 the Mr. Wesleys, she favoured those espe- 
 cially who were the ministers of the Calvin- 
 istic persuasion, according to the literal sense 
 of the Articles of the Church of England. 
 With an intention of giving them a greater 
 scene of usefulness, she opened her house in 
 Park-street for the preaching of the gospel, 
 supposing that, as a peeress of the realm, 
 she had an indisputable right to employ, as 
 her family chaplains, those ministers of the 
 church whom she patronised. On the week 
 days, her kitchen was filled with the poor of 
 
160 MEMOIR OP 
 
 the flock, for whom she provided instruction ; 
 and on the Lord's-da)^, the great and noble 
 were invited to spend the evening in her 
 drawing-room, where Mr. Whitefield, Mr. 
 Romaine, Mr. Jones, and other ministers of 
 Christ, were heard with apparently deep and 
 serious attention. 
 
 The illness of her younger son, which 
 proved fatal, had led her Ladyship to Bright- 
 helmstone, for the sake of sea-bathing. 
 There, the following singular circumstance 
 occurred, which Lady H. related to Mr. Top- 
 lady, and which is published from his own 
 manuscript in his posthumous works. A 
 gentlewoman, who lived in the vicinity of 
 Brighthelmstone, dreamed that a tall lady, 
 whose dress she particularly noticed, would 
 come to that town, and be an instrument of 
 doing much good. It was about three years 
 after this dream, that Lady H. went down 
 thither, on the occasion already mentioned. 
 One day, the above gentlewoman met her 
 Ladyship in the street, and, on seeing her, 
 exclaimed, "0, madam you are come!'' 
 Lady H., surprised at the oddity of such an 
 address from an entire stranger, thought at 
 first the woman was out of her senses. 
 "What do you know of me?" said the 
 Countess. " Madam," returned the person, 
 " I saw you in a dream three years ago, 
 dressed just as you appear now," — and re- 
 lated the whole of ihe dream to her. In 
 consequence of the acquaintance which was 
 then formed between them, Lady H. was 
 
LADY HUNTINGDON. 161 
 
 made instrumental in lier conversion, and 
 she died about a year after in tlie triumph 
 of faith. 
 
 In selecting preachers for the supply of 
 her chapels, Lady Huntingdon at first con- 
 fined herself to the ministers of the Estab- 
 hshed Church, many of whom accepted her 
 invitation, and laboured in the places which 
 she had opened. But her zeal enlarging 
 with her success, and a great variety of per- 
 sons throughout the kingdom begging her 
 assistance, in London and many of the most 
 populous cities, she purchased, built, or hired 
 chapels for the performance of Divine ser- 
 vice. As these multiplied through England, 
 Ireland, and Wales, the ministers who had 
 before laboured for her Ladyship were un- 
 equal to the task ; and some were unv/illing 
 to move in a sphere so extensive, and which 
 began to be branded as irregular, and to meet 
 great opposition. Many, however, perse- 
 vered in their services, and were content to 
 bear the cross. In order to provide proper 
 persons for the work of the ministry, her 
 Ladyship now retired to South Wales, and 
 erected a chapel and college in the parish of 
 Talgarth, Brecknockshire. The chapel was 
 opened in 176S. The college was provided 
 with able teachers, and soon filled with stu- 
 dents. From that retirement. Lady Hunt- 
 ingdon despatched the requisite supplies for 
 the increasing congregations under her pat- 
 ronage ; and as the calls were often urgent, 
 her students were too frequently thrust forth 
 
 14* 
 
162 MEMOIR OF 
 
 into the harvest, before they had made any 
 considerable proficiency in the languages or 
 in sacred Uterature, in which it had been her 
 intention that they should be instructed. 
 Few of them knew much more than their 
 native tongue ; yet, being men of strong 
 sense and real devotedness to God, their 
 ministry was greatly blessed, and the ac- 
 counts of their success animated her to 
 greater exertions. They were itinerant — 
 moved from congregation to congregation in 
 a rotation ; and her correspondence with 
 them, to regulate and provide a constant 
 supply, was a labour to which her active 
 spirit alone was equal. The seminary in 
 Wales ceased at her ladyship's death, the 
 lease being just expired, and no endowment 
 being left, as her income died with her. 
 
 Her Ladyship still devising plans for the 
 diffusion of the Gospel, especially in places 
 where Satan had his seat, erected, in tlie 
 year 1769, a chapel at Tunbridgc Wells, so 
 much frequented at that time by the great 
 and gay of the metropolis, and still a place 
 of fashionable resort. Nor was the metropo- 
 lis itself, that emporium of error and dissipa- 
 tion, forgotten by her benevolent and ardent 
 mind. A large building in Spa-fields, called 
 the Pantheon, had been erected for entertain- 
 ing parties of pleasure, especially on the 
 Lord's-day. The Rev. Herbert Jones and 
 William Taylor, two clergymen under the 
 patronage of Lady Huntingdon, engaged 
 the place for religious worship ; and it was 
 
LADY HUNTINGDON. 163 
 
 opened, July 6, 1777, with a sermon by the 
 former clergyman on the appropriate text, 
 Gen. xxviii. 19, " And he (Jacob) called the 
 name of that place Bethel ; but the name of 
 that city was called Luz at the first." The 
 place will contain more than two thousand. 
 This chapel, however, soon became an object 
 of dislike to the strict members of the Estab- 
 lishment. Accordingly, a suit was instituted 
 by the minister of the parish of Clerkenwell, 
 in the consistorial court of the Bishop of 
 London, against the two clergymen who 
 officiated there. To that spiritual court they 
 were summoned, and were forbidden to 
 preach there any longer on pain of expulsion 
 from the Church. They chose to obey God 
 rather than man ; and Lady Huntingdon 
 having purchased the chapel, several clergy- 
 men seceded from the Established Church, 
 and put themselves under the protection of 
 the Toleration Act. These clergymen drew 
 up and subscribed a confession of faith : 
 which was afterwards signed by all the min- 
 ters in her Ladyship's connexion, and by 
 candidates for ordination. The first six 
 were ordained in Spa-Fields Chapel, March 
 9, 17S3, by the Rev. Messrs. Wills and Tay- 
 lor. The doctrines taught in ail the Count- 
 ess's chapels are strictly evangelical, and the 
 EpiscopaUan mode of worship is adhered to, 
 though some alterations are made in the 
 liturgy, and in the offices for baptism and 
 burial. 
 
 Some years afterwards, Lady Huntingdon 
 
164 MEMOIR OF 
 
 purchased another large place in Whitechap- 
 el, which had been intended for a theatre, 
 and was constructed accordingly. No ma- 
 terial alterations were deemed necessary ; 
 and it was, perhaps, proper to show, by 
 substantial and permanent signs the triumph 
 of wisdom and goodness over folly and vice. 
 The dressing-rooms for the actors were con- 
 verted into a vestry, and the pulpit is erected 
 on the front of the stage. The pit is filled 
 with the poor, to whom the gospel is 
 preached; while the galleries exhibit the 
 more respectable hearers. The place will 
 hold five thousand persons ; it received the 
 name of Sion Chapel. These were her 
 Ladyship's principal chapels. There are 
 several others of less note. 
 
 Though Lady Huntingdon devoted the 
 whole of her substance to the Gospel, yet it 
 is not a little surprising how her income 
 sufficed for the immense expense in which 
 she was necessarily involved. Her jointure 
 was no more than twelve hundred pounds a 
 year ; nor was it till after the death of her son, 
 a few years preceding her own, that she had 
 the addition of another thousand. She often 
 involved herself in expenses for building 
 chapels, which she found it burdensome to 
 discharge ; but Divine Providence brought 
 her always honourably through her engage- 
 ments, and provided a supply when her own 
 was exhausted. 
 
 Lady Huntingdon's person, endowments, 
 and spirit, were all uncommon. She was 
 
LADY HUNTINGDON. 165 
 
 rather above the middle size : her presence 
 noble, and commanding respect ; her address 
 singularly engaging ; her intelligence acute ; 
 her diUgence indefatigable ; and the constant 
 labour of her correspondence inconceivable. 
 During forty-five years of widowhood, she 
 devoted her time, talents, and substance, to 
 the support and difl'usion of the Gospel. To 
 the age of fourscore and upwards, she main- 
 tained all the vigour of youth ; and though, 
 in her latter years, the contraction of her 
 throat reduced her almost wholly to a liquid 
 diet, her spirits never seemed to fail her. 
 To the very last days of her life, her active 
 mind was planning still greater and more 
 extensive schemes of usefulness, for the 
 universal spread of the Gospel of Christ. 
 
 Her most distinguishing excellence was, 
 the fervent zeal which always burned in her 
 bosom, to make known the Gospel of the 
 grace of God. This no disappointments 
 quenched, no labours slackened, no oppo- 
 sition discouraged, no progress of years aba- 
 ted : it flamed strongest in her latest moments. 
 The world has seldom seen such a character. 
 Thousands and tens of thousands will have 
 reason, living and dying, to bless her memory, 
 as having been the happy instrument of 
 bringing them out of darkness into mar- 
 vellous light ; and multitudes saved, by her 
 instrumentality, have met her in the regions 
 of glory, to rejoice together in the presence 
 of God and of the Lamb. 
 
 But it may be asked, Was she a perfect 
 
,166 MEMOIR OF 
 
 character? This is not the lot of mortals 
 oil this side the grave. \Vhen the moon 
 walketh in her brightness, her shadows are 
 most visible. Lady Huntingdon was in her 
 temper warm and sanguine : her predilections 
 for some, and her prejudices against others, 
 were sometimes too hastily adopted, and by 
 these, she was led to form conclusions not 
 always correspondent to truth and wisdom. 
 The success attending her efforts, seemed to 
 impress her mind with a persuasion, that a 
 particular benediction would rest upon whom- 
 soever she should send forth ; which ren- 
 dered her choice not always judicious, though 
 seldom have there been fewer offences in so 
 extended a work. She had so long directed 
 the procedures of her ecclesiastical connexion 
 that she too seldom asked the advice of the 
 judicious ministers who laboured with her ; 
 and bore not passively contradiction. 
 
 For many years. Lady Huntingdon had 
 two female companions, who lived with her 
 on terms of the most cordial friendship, JNIiss 
 Scutt, and Lady Ann Erskine ; the latter, 
 sister to the Earl of Buchan, and to the two 
 famous counsellors of that name. These 
 ladies, particularly the latter, co-operated 
 with the countess in her work and labour of 
 Christian love. Both were constantly pre- 
 sent during her last illness. 
 
 In the month of November, 1790, Lady 
 Huntingdon broke a blood-vessel, wiiich was 
 the commencement of her last illness. Being 
 then asked how she did, by the Lady Ann, 
 
' LADY HUNTINGDON. 167 
 
 she replied, " I am well; all is well I well for 
 ever ! 1 see, wherever I turn my eyes, 
 whether I live or die, nothing but victory." 
 As death drew nearer, though it was delayed 
 for some months, she often repeated with 
 great emphasis, " The coming of the Lord 
 draweth nigh ! Lady Ann, the coming 
 of the Lord draweth nigh !" adding, «* The 
 thought fills my soul with joy unspeakable, 
 whether I shall see his glory more abun- 
 dantly appear, or whether it be an intimation 
 of my own departure to him.'^ At another 
 time : " All the little rufiles and difficuhies 
 which surround me, and all the pains I am 
 exercised v/ith in this poor body, through 
 mercy, affect not the settled peace and joy 
 of my soul." 
 
 To a friend who called on her a few 
 weeks before her death, she said, " I see 
 myself a poor worm drawing near to Jesus. 
 AVhat hope could I entertain if I did not 
 know the efficacy of his blood, and turn as a 
 prisoner of hope to this hold? How little 
 could any thing of mine give a moment's 
 rest to a departing soul ! So much sin and 
 self mixed with the best, and always so 
 short of what v/e owe ! — 'Tis well for us 
 that he can pity and pardon ; and we have 
 confidence that he will do so. — I confess, my 
 deal friend, I have no hope, but that which 
 inspired the dying malefactor at the side of 
 my Lord ; and I must be saved in the same 
 way, as freely, as fully, or not at all." He 
 replied, "Madam, I cordially join you, and 
 
168 MEMOIR OF 
 
 feel with yon, that though our hves may be 
 devoted to the work of Jesus, and our deaths 
 the consequence of his service, it is not to 
 these sacrifices we should look " for com- 
 fort in a dying hour." She replied, " No, 
 verily ;" — and enlarging, on the idea of the 
 mixture of infirmity and corruption which 
 tarnished all our best-meant services, she 
 added ; ^' That a sinner could only rest satis- 
 factorily on one foundation, and would find 
 nothing in the best works of his best days, 
 that he could dare to produce before God for 
 its own sake ; sufficiently blessed and secure, 
 if he could but cry, God be merciful to me a 
 sinner, and let me be found in the Beloved, 
 and complete in him." To these, in the 
 course of a long conversation, were added 
 many like words of truth and grace. 
 
 During the whole of her illness, her pains 
 never made her impatient ; but she seemed 
 more concerned about those who attended 
 her, than about herself She said tenderly to 
 Lady Ann Erskine and Miss Scutt, whose 
 long, faithful and tender attachment to her 
 is well known, " I fear I shall be the death 
 of you both," (alluding to their constant 
 watching with her) ; — « it will be but a few 
 days more." 
 
 But a few days before her decease. Lady 
 Huntingdon said to a friend ; " I cannot tell 
 you in what light I now see these words: 
 ' If a man love me, he will keep my words, 
 and my Father will love him, and we will 
 come unto him, and make our abode with 
 
LADY HUNTINGDON. 169 
 
 him.' To have in this room such company, 
 and to have such an eternal prospect ! I see 
 this subject now in a hght impossible to be 
 described. I know my capacity will be then 
 enlarged, but I am now as sensible of the 
 presence of God, as I am of the presence of 
 those I have with me." 
 
 On the very day of her death, she con- 
 versed about sending missionaries to Ota- 
 heite. She had often in her hfetime men- 
 tioned, that, from the first moment that God 
 set her soul at liberty, she had such a desire 
 for the conversion of souls, that she com- 
 pared herself to a ship in full sail before the 
 v/ind, and that she was carried on by such a 
 Divine influence as was not easily to be 
 described. Almost her last words were, 
 " My work is done, I have nothing to do but 
 to go to my Father." Her Ladyship died 
 at her house in Spa-Fields, next door to the 
 chapel, June 17, 1791, in the 84th year of 
 her age. 
 
 15 
 
MEMOIR 
 
 OP 
 
 MRS. TALBOT. 
 
 This excellent lady was married to the Rev. 
 Wm. Talbot, rector of St. Giles's, Reading, 
 Berks; a truly evangelical and exemplary 
 clergyman, whom she survived eleven years. 
 He was the immediate predecessor of the 
 celebrated Mr. Cadogan. 
 
 Mrs. Talbot was a pattern to women pro- 
 fessing godliness, and one that adorned the 
 doctrine of God her Saviour in all things. 
 As a real helpmeet to her worthy husband, 
 she assisted him in the useful but unfashion- 
 able employment of visiting the sick and 
 needy, and catechizing the children ; and, so 
 far from doing these kind offices with the 
 least degree of ostentation, humility shone 
 forth in her whole deportment. Ever en- 
 couraging her amiable partner to take up his 
 cross, and go forth without the camp, she 
 rejoiced to share with him in that reproach 
 which is the certain badge of the followers 
 of the Lamb. 
 
 The Rev. Mr. Talbot was indeed an ex- 
 traordinary man, both for piety and gene- 
 170 
 
MRS. TALBOT. 171 
 
 rosity. His labours were extensively blessed ; 
 it is supposed that, in the few years he 
 preached at Reading, he had not less than 
 two hundred seals to his ministry. Bat so 
 mysterious are the ways of God, that in the 
 prime of life, and in the midst of usefuhiess, 
 this faithful and successful minister was sud- 
 denly removed to glory. He had not long 
 left home to go to London on business, when 
 tidings were brought of his being ill of a 
 putrid fever, which, it is supposed, he had 
 contracted before he left Reading, by attend- 
 ance on a person there, who lay ill of that 
 contagious disorder. The distress of mind 
 which Mrs. Talbot endured on receiving the 
 intelligence, was extreme ; but, at length, a 
 sweet calm succeeded. With inexpressible 
 composure, she resigned her husband into 
 the Lord's hands, whether for life or death ; 
 and from that moment there was not a single 
 murmur. " Thy will be done !'' was the 
 language of her whole heart. It was judged 
 most proper, by the faculty and his friends, 
 that she should not see him, lest his mind 
 should be too much agitated by the inter- 
 view. His illness was of short duration ; 
 and full of faith and hope, after a severe 
 conflict with death and the enemy of souls, 
 he died at the house of the late Mr. Wilber- 
 force. Mrs. Talbot received the tidings of 
 his dissolution with such a perfect serenity 
 of mind, as astonished the Earl of Dartmouth, 
 their particular friend, who kindly undertook 
 to communicate the sad intelligence to her. 
 
173 MEMOIR OF 
 
 On his Lordship's leaving her, having, at her 
 own request, remained alone for some time, 
 she sent for the mistress of the house, and 
 desired her to sing a hymn, in which she 
 joined ; when she seemed more like an angel 
 rejoicing to receive this new inhabitant into 
 heaven, than a destitute widow, who had 
 lost her beloved partner, and her all on earth. 
 On her return to Reading, after the funeral, 
 she was immediately attended by her Chris- 
 tian friends, whom she called her children. 
 But, though they had met for the purpose of 
 comforting her, they were themselves so 
 overwhelmed with grief, that they could 
 scarcely utter a word ; whilst she, on the 
 other hand, administered every consolation 
 to them on the happy translation of their 
 spiritual father, pastor, and friend. She went 
 the same day to the church, to see where 
 her beloved husband lay ; and with all im- 
 aginable composure gave directions about 
 her own interment, whenever it should please 
 God to remove her. It deserves to be espe- 
 cially remarked, that, prior to this period, 
 Mrs. Talbot had been much oppressed with 
 doubts and fears, and often went mourning 
 without the sun ; but, thenceforward, her 
 faith was vigorous, her joy abundant, and 
 her spiritual experience rich and refreshing. 
 The Lord now appeared in a wonderful 
 manner for her, in a temporal way also, to 
 the astonishment of her friends. Hereby 
 she was enabled to assist the poor and needy, 
 and send meat, from her own table, almost 
 
MRS. TALBOT. 173 
 
 daily, to the sick : at tlie same time, like a 
 nm-sing mother to her late husband's flock, 
 she was as constantly speaking of Christ, like 
 Anna of old, to all them that came to her. 
 For she felt it her duty not to remove from 
 the spot where her husband's labours had 
 been so signally blessed ; but to strengthen 
 and comfort the numerous young converts, 
 who daily came to her for instruction. Her 
 house was open for religious exercises. Mr. 
 Romaine, Mr. Newton, and other ministers 
 who visited her, expounded to the people ; 
 and prayer was continually offered up under 
 her roof, for the conversion of the new vicar, 
 the Hon. and Rev. Mr. Cadogan, who, 
 during some years, preached salvation by the 
 deeds of the law, and was a violent enemy 
 to evangelical sentiments and experimental 
 religion. The old congregation were soon 
 dispersed, as sheep v/ithout a shepherd. 
 Some, unwilling to leave the church, at- 
 tempted to convince him of his errors ; but 
 their conversation and letters, being some- 
 times too sharp, made his spirit more acrimo- 
 nious. Mrs. Talbot, however, incurred his 
 deepest resentment. Offended with her con- 
 duct, he frequently remonstrated ; and va- 
 rious letters passed between them. To all 
 his bitter reproaches, she returned answers 
 full of wisdom and kindness ; for she was not 
 only pious and prudent, but sensible, polite, 
 tender, and every way fitted to treat a person 
 in his circumstances. While Mrs. Talbot 
 conversed with Mr. Cadogan calmly on the 
 
 15* 
 
174 MEMOIR OF 
 
 nature of the Gospel, he saw in her the 
 power of it. While she enlarged on the 
 doctrine of the cross, he saw in her its healing 
 and comforting efficacy on the heart and life. 
 She spake much of the True Vine, while he 
 recognized the living hranch and its fruits ; 
 and beheld with irresistible conviction, in her 
 character, " the doctrine which is according 
 to godliness." Puzzled, therefore, as this 
 honest inquirer had been with the rough 
 draught of Christianity, he was charmed 
 with the finished portrait. Her judicious 
 treatment, elegant manners, and bright ex- 
 ample, formed both a contrast and an antidote 
 to the rudeness he had met with in others. 
 And this should teach us to set a due value 
 upon every talent, natural or acquired, which 
 Divine grace employs ; though we ourselves 
 may happen not to possess it, and though 
 every talent, without that grace, must be 
 employed in vain. To the last moment of 
 his life, he confessed, to the praise of God, 
 that Mrs. Talbot's letters, spirit, and example, 
 were the principal means of leading him to 
 the saving knowledge of Christ. 
 
 From the time of his conversion, Mr. 
 Cadogan became her friend, companion, 
 minister, and one of the almoners of her 
 bounty; for Mrs. Talbot's charities were 
 large ; and, considering her circumstances, 
 surprising. It ought not to escape remark, 
 that she was as just as she was generous, — 
 scrupulously exact in her accounts and pay- 
 ments, — particularly careful to owe no man 
 
MRS. TALBOT. 175 
 
 any thing but love, and to pay this debt as 
 punctually as every other. She was aftec- 
 tionately attentive to her neighbours of all 
 ranks. To her servants, she was a mother, 
 as well as a mistress ; but managed her 
 kindnessess so as to produce in them the most 
 grateful subjection, not indecent famiharity. 
 To her relations she was strongly attached ; 
 she loved them with the love of Christ, and 
 mentioned them daily in her prayers. 
 
 Her house indeed seemed a Bethel. Such 
 a heavenly calm sat on her countenance, so 
 spiritual was her conversation, so lowly in 
 her own eyes, so dead to the world, and so 
 ripe for glory, that, as a noble friend often 
 expressed herself, she never saw Mrs. Talbot, 
 but she seemed quite ready for her heavenly 
 journey ; with every thing packed up, and 
 the carriage at the door, having nothing to 
 do but to enter it, and take her flight to glory. 
 Thus daily waiting for her summons, she 
 was not surprised nor unready when it came. 
 She knew in whom she believed; Christ was 
 her life; and, through his blood and right- 
 eousness, tlie sting of death was taken out, 
 and she happily obtained victory over the 
 grave. 
 
 On the day she was seized with her last 
 illness, being exhorted to look to Jesus, she 
 said ; " This Jesus is all in all." Her daily 
 testimony from this time to her death, was, 
 that she had no other refuge, nor desired any 
 other, but Christ, whom she found an all- 
 sufficient Saviour for such a sinner as she 
 
176 MEMOIR OF 
 
 knew herself to be. A very familiar and 
 striking expression, her minister observed, 
 she often made use of — " That she felt as 
 though all behind her head were darkness 
 and sorrow ; and all before her face light and 
 gladness." On the Saturday night before 
 her death, she said ; " No more Sabbaths to 
 be enjoyed by me on earth ; but, oh that 
 blessed Sabbath of rest above !" She at- 
 tempted to sing ; 
 
 " Other refuge have I none, 
 Hangs my helpless soul on thee !" 
 
 and went on till her strength was exhausted. 
 The next morning, she began speaking of 
 the precious views she had, the preceding 
 night, of the New Jerusalem ; and added 
 with a sweet smile, '• Shall those gates of 
 pearl be opened to unworthy me ? And 
 shall 1 obtain that crown of righteousness, 
 laid up for all those that love the appearing 
 of my dear Lord !" Father, Son, and Holy 
 Ghost, she usually expressed by name, when 
 she ascribed to Jehovah, her Covenant-God, 
 the whole glory of her salvation. 
 
 Not long before her death, she was asked 
 by her minister, the Rev. Mr. Cadogan, in 
 the apostle's words, -'Who shall separate us 
 from the love of Christ?" She answered, 
 with uncommon rapture, " Nothing, nothing, 
 nothing! — Jesus," she added, "is my all." 
 "Oh sweet death!" was her constant ex- 
 pression. In her parting blessing to two or 
 
MRS. TALBOT. 177 
 
 three select friends, she said, " God bless you 
 all !" and to her faithful servants, whom she 
 loved as a mother, she added, "God bless 
 you, my dear children V And then, the last 
 words she was heard to utter distinctly, 
 were, Pray, pray, pray ! Her hps were still 
 perceived to move, as though in prayer, and 
 faintly uttering the words " Shepherd and 
 Guide!" Death was now upon her counte- 
 nance, and in its loveliest form. It was im- 
 possible to refrain from looking at her : it 
 was a sight calculated to confirm the hope 
 of every Christian. All who were present 
 kneeled round her bed, while in broken ac- 
 cents Mr. Cadogan committed her spirit into 
 the hands of the Lord God of truth. Sur- 
 rounded by her weeping friends and ser- 
 vants, she fell asleep without a groan, No- 
 vember, 1785, about the sixtieth year of her 
 age. 
 
MEMOIR 
 
 OF 
 
 MRS. HANNAH WOODl). 
 
 Mrs. Hannah Woodd was born at Rich- 
 mond, in Surry, on the 19th of April, 1736. 
 In July, 1759, she was married to Mr. Basil 
 Woodd, who was also born at Richmond in 
 1730, and with whom she had been ac- 
 quainted from her infancy. Such a union, 
 cemented by long endearment and similarity 
 of disposition, promised a scene of much 
 temporal felicity ; but a mysterious dispen- 
 sation of Divine Providence determined it 
 otherwise. The January following, Mr. 
 Woodd, being then from home on a visit, 
 was seized with a violent fever, and died on 
 the 12th of that month. So great a shock, 
 to a mind of her sensibility, could leave no 
 faint impression ; but it pleased God to sup- 
 })ort her in this keen trial, and on the 5th of 
 August following, she was delivered of a son. 
 Providence wonderfully interposed in her 
 favour ; and both root and branch, though 
 then apparently withering, were preserved 
 together, just as many years longer as she 
 had then lived. 
 
 The afflictive circumstance of her lius- 
 17S 
 
MRS. HANNAH WOODD. 179 
 
 band's death, nevertheless, proved an even- 
 tual blessmg, though conveyed in the dis- 
 guise of woe. By one stroke her mind was 
 severed from worldly prospects, and being 
 rent from the love of the creature, she now 
 began more anxiously to seek the knowledge 
 and love of the Creator. She had from 
 early life been of a devout turn of mind, a 
 strict observer of moral duties, and the ritual 
 of religion ; but now, in the day of adversity, 
 she was brought to deeper views of the de- 
 pravity of her heart, and the need she stood 
 in of a Saviour. She perceived the insuffi- 
 ciency of her own righteousness, and the ne- 
 cessity of being born again. 
 
 Pious friends, who had sympathized in 
 her late affliction, now observing the spiritual 
 concern of her mind, availed themselves of 
 this opportunity to bring her under the min- 
 istry of the Gospel. Amongst these were 
 principally the late Mrs. Conyers and Mrs. 
 Wilberforce, with whom her acquaintance 
 had commenced at school, and by whom she 
 was about this time introduced to the ac- 
 quaintance of Dr. Conyers and the Rev. Mr. 
 Venn. In the spirit of true Christian friend- 
 ship, they lamented that she had hitherto had 
 no better instruction than mere moral essays, 
 and brouglit her acquainted with sound 
 evangelical principles. These proved indeed 
 the spiritual food which her soul hungered 
 after : she received them in faith and love, 
 adorned them in her life, and found them 
 her triumph in her dying hour. 
 
180 MEMOIR OF 
 
 From this happy period, to a disposition 
 naturally benign and amiable, were added 
 the graces of the Holy Spirit ; and the Chris- 
 tian motive of love to the Lord Jesus gave 
 life and spirituality to her moral duties. Re- 
 ligious exercises, which hitherto she had not 
 regarded higher than as a devout form of 
 godliness, now became her soul's delight. 
 She ordinarily retired three times in the day 
 for private prayer ; at morning, noon, and at 
 evening. Love to God her Saviour led her 
 with cheerful feet to the courts of the Lord's 
 house ; — a privilege she so highly valued, 
 that she rarely permitted inclement weather, 
 or the late decay of her health, to interfere 
 with it. 
 
 Though filial affection may be suspected 
 of exaggerating a mother's excellence, yet, it is 
 but justice to say, that, in every department, 
 she was a lovely ornament of the truth as it is 
 in Jesus ; particularly as a daughter, a mother, 
 and a mistress. As to the former relation, 
 she constantly attended her father till his 
 death, at the advanced age of 87 ;* who, 
 though he was very much prejudiced against 
 her religious principles, yet lived to have 
 his mind greatly won by her uniform con- 
 duct ; and on his death-bed, he regretted that 
 he had ever opposed her ; and acknowledged 
 in the most alfecting manner his long expe- 
 rience of her filial duty. 
 
 As a mother, the Rev. Dr. Conyers fre- 
 
 * September 1st, 1778. 
 
MRS. HANNAH WOODD. 181 
 
 quently said, that he never saw such an in- 
 stance of maternal affection. Her son says : 
 " This is a subject on which, I hope, I shall 
 never think without heartfelt gratitude to her 
 and to God, who so favoured me. The 
 whole of her deportment was calculated to 
 win my early attention to religion. I saw 
 in her what it could do ; how happy, how 
 cheerful, how humble, how holy, how love- 
 ly in life, and afterwards in death, how full 
 of mercy and good fruits it could render the 
 happy possessor. As I was the only son 
 of my mother, and she a widow, she might 
 perhaps lean to the side of over-indulgence. 
 Yet, if my heart do not deceive me, in trust- 
 ing that Hove the ways of God, Jam indebted, 
 through Divine grace, for that inestimable 
 benefit, to the impression of her great and. 
 tender kindness, her uniform example, and 
 particularly her pious and affectionate letters, 
 when I was about thirteen years old. Such, 
 indeed, has been the impression of her pa- 
 rental affection, that though my friends, I 
 believe, have never charged me with filial 
 negligence, yet, since her decease, I have re- 
 gretted very frequently that, in many httle 
 instances, 1 conceive I might have shown her 
 still more respect and aflection." 
 
 As a mistress, she exhibited not less excel- 
 lence. If she erred, her error was the excess 
 of kindness and humility. In the few 
 changes v/hich happened in her service, her 
 first attention was to the spiritual welfare of 
 a new servant. And by the Divine blessing 
 
 16 
 
182 MEMOIR OF 
 
 on her pious conversation, the religions 
 books which she put in their hands, and the 
 kindness of her deportment towards her in- 
 feriors, three of her servants were conciliated 
 to become followers of her, as she was also 
 of Christ Jesus. 
 
 If there was in any of her acquaintance 
 the least appearance of incipient piety, it is 
 well remembered with what tender anxiety 
 she would pray, would weep, would warn, 
 would encourage, and strive all in her power 
 to fan the spark, and prevent its expiring. 
 In a word, as an eminent minister said of 
 her, when informed of her decease, and what 
 a glorious testimony she had given on her 
 death-bed : " It was indulgent in God to 
 grant it, but Mrs. Woodd needed no such 
 testimony : her life had been one continued 
 testimony to the truth, and no particular 
 testimony was requisite at her death. There 
 is not a person in the parish, who has heard 
 the report that Mrs. Woodd is dead, but has 
 instantly observed, Well, that wo??ia?i is gone 
 to lieaven.'^ 
 
 Yet, with this amiable lustre of character, 
 while no one doubted of her eternal safety, 
 she was full of doubts and fears herself. 
 Self-suspicion and a dread of judging too 
 favourably of her own state, pervaded all 
 her experience. Sermons which urged and 
 assisted self-examination, as well as those 
 which exhibited the glory and free grace of 
 the Saviour, were to her ears peculiarly ac- 
 ceptable. " Try me, God ! and search 
 
MRS. HANNAH WOODD. 183 
 
 the ground of my heart," was her earnest 
 supplication. She liad a hope, which she 
 would not give up ; but still she rejoiced 
 with trembUng. Hence, until it pleased God 
 to afflict her with bodily infirmities, her at- 
 tainments in tills respect rarely exceeded an 
 humble confidence. 
 
 In the year 1779, was laid the foundation 
 of the disorder which at length occasioned 
 her death. A severe fit of illness confined 
 her to her room six or seven months. From 
 that time, she was much afflicted with a 
 species of rheumatic gout, which occasioned 
 great pain, weakness, and swelling in the 
 joints. She made trial of sea-bathing, and 
 repaired to Harrowgate, Buxton, Bath, &c. 
 Various means were used, but the remedy 
 remained unknown. The last year of her 
 life she was unable to rise from her seat 
 without assistance, and was almost in a state 
 of helplessness. The disorder at last attack- 
 ed her stomach. An entire loss of appetite 
 took place, and a perpetual sickness, which 
 baffled all medicine. 
 
 God now visited her soul with more pecu- 
 liar manifestations of the light of his Divine 
 countenance. She believed her end to be 
 approaching, and seemed to be gradually 
 filled with unspeakable joy, as the day drew 
 nigh, which for ever terminated all her sor- 
 row. 
 
 Since her decease, upon looking over a 
 kind of diary which her humility forbade 
 any one to open in her lifetime, we have 
 
184 MEMOIR OF 
 
 met with the following meditation on the 
 last birth-day she spent on earth, which will 
 inform the reader of the state of her mind, 
 better than any vague description. It is 
 transcribed, without one alteration, in her 
 own easy, familiar style. 
 
 " April 19, 1734. 
 
 " This is the day of my birth. Oh, my 
 gracious Lord, make me sensible of thy mer- 
 cies ! I would be all praise and thanksgiv- 
 ing. I would praise thee for my birth, for 
 there thy mercies began, and they have fol- 
 lowed me all my days. Dearest Lord ! I 
 cannot express my thanks ; but thou seest 
 my heart, and, I trust, seest me longing to be 
 thankful ! Oh that I could render praise and 
 gratitude to thee, who, I humbly trust, hast 
 new-created my soul. This, this alone, 
 makes the day of natural birth to be looked 
 back to with comfort. Oh for a grateful 
 heart ! Help me, gracious Lord, to praise 
 thee for all tliat is past ! My heart is full. — 
 I want words. Oh help me to look forward ! 
 I have lived here a long time ; help me to 
 look beyond the grave ; to look to thy right 
 hand. Increase my faith. Help me to be- 
 lieve that thou hast indeed called me by thy 
 grace, begun the good work, and that thou 
 wilt carry it on, and keep me ; that where 
 thou, my blessed Jesus art, there thy poor 
 unworthy servant shall be ! Oh ! glory be 
 to thy name, the work is thine own, and my 
 trust is in thee ! Oh keep me and save me, 
 
MRS. HANNAH WOODD. 185 
 
 blessed Lord ! I give myself to thee ! Oh 
 bring me to those blessed mansions of peace, 
 where I shall be able to praise thee ; where 
 I shall be delivered from the painful clog of 
 this body, which weighs down my soul ! 
 Prepare me for thy coming ! Oh make me 
 watchful and ready to meet thee, when thou 
 shalt please to send thy messenger, death, 
 for me ! Make the pain I continually feel 
 of use to me. Sure, I cannot be long here ! 
 quicken my soul ! Fix my affections on 
 heavenly things. Give me clearer views. 
 Oh give me a sense of pardoned sin ! Wash 
 me in thy precious blood. Clothe me with 
 thy perfect righteousness. Conform me 
 more to thy Divine image; and help me to 
 meet death as a kind friend, come to fetch 
 me home to thee ! Amen, amen, thou 
 dearest Lord !" 
 
 Religion shines in every situation and cir- 
 cumstance of life ; but, as an incontestable 
 evidetice of its own purity and power, it is 
 most transcendent on the eve of dissolution. 
 The Christian then, "like the sun, looks 
 largest when he sets." Humanity naturally 
 trembles at the idea of death. To close the 
 eyes on the most beloved objects ; to become 
 a pale, lifeless corpse ; and, concealed from 
 mortal view, to be consigned over to the 
 prey of worms and corruption, are circum- 
 stances which we shudder at the thought of 
 inevitably experiencing. But to see a soul 
 with all these views before it, not merely 
 armed with fortitude, not merely made wil- 
 
 16* 
 
186 MEMOIR OF 
 
 ling by resignation, but smiling with calm 
 delight at their appearance, and rejoicing 
 with unspeakable joy at their sensible ap- 
 proach ; is not this a fact that speaks for it- 
 sell? Is not this an argument incontroverti- 
 ble, an undeniable proof of the support 
 which true religion can impart to its sincere 
 votary ? Is it not an animated comment 
 upon the promise, " I will never leave thee ; 
 no, nor ever forsake thee ?" The subject of 
 this memoir was one whose feelings in a 
 striking manner described the above portrait, 
 without exaggerating or overcolouring the 
 piece. 
 
 On Sunda}^, the 7th of November, IVIrs. 
 Woodd dictated the following letter to the 
 Rev. Dr. Conyers : 
 
 My very dear Sir, 
 
 I have loved you dearly in the Christian 
 bonds : I now long to let my dear Dr. Cony- 
 ers know, that I am dying, and not afraid. 
 I trust I am going to my dear Father's 
 house. I was never so happy in all the 
 days of my life. I would write to tell you 
 what my soul feels in this blessed prospect, 
 that I might bear my testimony to his grace ; 
 that I might refresh your soul, who have so 
 often refreshed mine, and tell you what joy 
 I feel in this prospect. I do not doubt of 
 meeting you in heaven, and my dear child 
 too. Your true Christian friend, 
 
 Hannah Woodd. 
 
 Greenicich Road, Nov, 7, 1784. 
 
MRS. HANNAH WOODD. 187 
 
 Evidence of the joyful state of her mind 
 
 may be collected from what she said on her 
 
 death-bed. On her son's return from St. 
 
 Peter's, Cornhill, that evening, she took hold 
 
 of his hpaid, and seemed much animated. 
 
 " God," said she, " my dear, has been very 
 
 gracious this afternoon : he sent my son 
 
 from me, but he sent himself to me. 0, I 
 
 *V^ am very happy ! I am going to my mansion 
 
 'uo in the skies. I shall soon be there ; and oh ! 
 
 u- I shall be glad to receive you to it. You 
 
 shall come in, but you shall never go out ; 
 
 no never !" 
 
 Pausing a little, she said : " If ever you 
 have a family, tell the children, they had a 
 grandmother who feared God, and found 
 the comforts of it on her death-bed. And 
 tell your partner, I shall be glad to see her 
 in heaven : when you come to glory, you 
 must bring her with you. Let me tell you, 
 by my own experience, when you come to 
 lie upon your death-bed, an interest in Jesus 
 will be found a precious possession. what 
 a mercy of mercies, that we should be 
 brought out of the bondage of Egypt, and 
 united together in the kingdom of God's dear 
 Son ! I exhort you to preach the gospel : 
 preach it faithfully and boldly. Fear not 
 the face of man. Endeavour to put in a 
 word of comfort to the humble believer, to 
 poor weak souls. I heartily wish you suc- 
 cess: may you be useful to the souls of 
 many !" 
 
 Being fatigued, she rested some little time. 
 
188 MEMOIR OF 
 
 As soon as supper was over, she renewed 
 her triumphant language ; and after she had 
 dictated the preceding letter, she was elated 
 into transports, in speaking of the boundless 
 love of Christ and his salvation. " It is,'^ 
 she cried out, " a glorious salvation ! a free 
 unmerited salvation ! a full, complete salva- 
 tion ! a perfect, eternal salvation ! It is a 
 deliverance from every enemy. It is a sup- 
 ply of every want. It is all I can wish for 
 in time. It is all I can now wish for in 
 death. It is all I shall want in eternity." 
 
 She went on in this strain for a long while, 
 with an amazing quick succession of ideas. 
 Then, upon seeing her son, she changed the 
 subject, and, in the same elevated style, went 
 on for about ten minutes, blessing and 
 praising God for the great comfort they had 
 experienced in each other, the union which 
 subsisted between them, and the blessed hope 
 that, though they were now about to part for 
 a season, they should one day meet again for 
 ever. In this last instance, her feelings were 
 worked up to more than she could well sus- 
 tain ; and she spoke with such rapidity, that 
 it was impossible to take down, or recollect 
 one half of what she said. In the afternoon, 
 she had taken a most atfectionate leave of 
 some of her friends, to whom she expressed 
 a full assurance of her eternal felicity, and 
 wished them much happiness till she met 
 them in a better place. 
 
 Sunday night, she had but little rest. 
 Monday morning, she desired a person to 
 
MRS. HANNAH WOODD. 189 
 
 read to her the verses on the death of Mrs. 
 Conyers. After hearing them with great 
 pleasure, she exclaimed, '^ I shall see that 
 dear friend of mine again, and her dear part- 
 ner ; we shall unite in praise for ever." — 
 Adverting to the adorable Redeemer, she re- 
 peated with great feeling those lines of Mr. 
 Cennick's ; 
 
 " I long to see those hands which made me blest, 
 Those feet which travelled to procure my rest ; 
 I long to see that dear, that sacred head, 
 Which bowed, when on it all my sins were laid. 
 The angels wait; my Saviour calls ; — Farewell I 
 I go, with him in endless peace to dwell." 
 
 After a short pause she proceeded : 
 
 " I long to behold him arrayed 
 
 With glory and light from above ; 
 The King in his beauty displayed. 
 His beauty of holiest love. 
 
 " I trust, through his grace, to be there, 
 Where Jesus has fixed his abode, 
 Oh when shall we meet in the air. 
 And fly to the mount of my Godl" 
 
 A short time after, she asked a friend, 
 whether she had a good hope for her 5 and 
 whether, in the opinion of her friends, her 
 life had been consistent with her profession. 
 Her friend replied in the affirmative, and 
 added : " Why should you make yourself 
 anxious about what others thmk of you ? 
 Have you not a good hope for yourself?" — 
 
190 MEMOIR OF 
 
 « Yes," said she, " thank God, I have a hope 
 built upon the Rock of ages." 
 
 She desired that all who came to the house 
 might see her. This request, however, a de- 
 sire to preserve her life a little longer forbade 
 complying with. Accidentally hearing the 
 name of one who called, she entreated ■-■ 
 earnestly she might see him : upon his 
 coming into the room, she took hold of his 
 hand, and said, "Ah! my friend, I am dying ; 
 but I am going to glory; I shall soon see my 
 dear heavenly Father. God bless you, and 
 be with you, till I meet you there. I shall 
 be glad to see you. Farewell." After his 
 departure she said, " I hope it will please 
 God not to permit me to dishonour his cause. 
 I trust, my death will show how God can 
 support a poor weak believer. If it be his 
 blessed will, I hope I shall die in triumph, 
 and leave behind me a testimony of his 
 grace. I long to tell others what joy I feel, 
 what God has done for me, and what God 
 will do for all that trust in him." 
 
 A friend of hers happening to call, who " 
 had lost a pious son in the prime of life, she 
 addressed her with great affection; "Ah, 
 Mrs. Mason, I shall soon be in glory ; I shall 
 soon see your dear child Samuel ; I loved 
 him dearly ; we shall soon meet again ; and 
 in God's time you shall join us." 
 
 That same afternoon, she was seized with 
 a strong convulsion fit, which greatly alarmed 
 her friends. When she came to herself, she 
 did not seem the least sensible of what had 
 
MRS. HANNAH WOODD. 191 
 
 happened, and proceeded in the same ani- 
 mated manner as before. Soon after her re- 
 covery from the fit, a friend came in, and 
 having felt her pulse, remarked, there was 
 nothing to be immediately alarmed at. She 
 replied with great eagerness, as if she felt 
 injured at the expression, "I am not alarmed ; 
 no, I am not afraid : I am going to heaven." 
 Perceiving her son near her, she said, " Now 
 do you vouch for me : am I alarmed ? No, 
 I know I shall be happy." 
 
 After a little time, she recollected the cir- 
 cumstance of a person's saying, in great 
 agony of mind upon his death bed, to one who 
 was present, with much horror, "Woman, 
 how shall I go through this great scene ?" 
 She repeated the sentence, paused on it for a 
 few minutes, but then exclaimed with great 
 triumph, " It is no great scene to me ; no, it 
 is a blessed scene ; it is a glorious scene to 
 me. I am going to my God. I shall see the 
 King in his beauty ; I shall be for ever near 
 him ; I shall for ever sing his praises." 
 
 Her heart was again much elated, and was 
 almost overpowered with sensations of gra- 
 titude in reflecting upon God's goodness 
 towards her. 
 
 " God," she said, addressing her son, " has 
 greatly indulged my desires; has answered 
 my prayers in a wonderful manner. How 
 has he dealt with me in sparing me so long, 
 to see you, my son, settled in life ! I re- 
 member, when I used to express my anxiety 
 for your eternal welfare to a friend of mine, 
 
19f MEMOIR OF 
 
 he always said, in allusion to the story of 
 Monica, the mother of St. Augustine, ' Go 
 home and make yourself easy ; the child of 
 those tears can never perish.' Now, my 
 dear, when God has removed me, imitate St. 
 Augustine's behaviour after the death of 
 Monica ; do not be dejected ; think of the 
 happiness I shall then be enjoying, and say, 
 as he said, when some wondered at his cheer- 
 fulness, * My mother is not a woman to be 
 lamented.' 
 
 She then desired to hear the fifty-fourth 
 chapter of Isaiah. At the fifth verse, she 
 cried out with rapture, "My Maker is my 
 husband, the Lord of Hosts is his name !" 
 And again, " God called me as a woman for- 
 saken and grieved in spirit." After this, she 
 lay seemingly much fatigued the rest of the 
 evening ; her mind seemed wholly conver- 
 sant with heavenly things, but she was too 
 much exhausted for more conversation. At 
 a quarter before twelve, the fit came on 
 again ; and she was in strong convulsions, 
 with some short intermissions, until half-past 
 four, during which space she had in all five 
 fits. In the intervals, her mind seemed to 
 retain its elevated state. She spoke with 
 great pleasure of her speedy departure ; and 
 dwelt with rapture upon her glorious inherit- 
 ance. " how happy shall 1 be," said she, 
 "to see you all there j" 
 
 She desired a friend, who sat up with her, 
 to sing the following hymn: 
 
MRS. HANNAH WOODD. 193 
 
 '* From all that dwell below the skies, 
 Let the Creator's praise arise ; 
 Let the Redeemer's name be sung, 
 Through every land, by every tongue. 
 
 Eternal are thy mercies, Lord, 
 
 Eternal truth attends thy word; 
 
 Thy praise shall sound from shore to shore, 
 
 Till suns shall rise and set no more." 
 
 She attempted to join herself, but her 
 voice faltered. When this was finished, and 
 she had again expressed the great joy she 
 felt in the prospect of death, " Come," said 
 she, " sing me another, sing me this : 
 
 * Hosannah to Jesus on high. 
 Another has entered his rest; 
 Another escaped to the sky, 
 And lodged in Emanuel's breast.' 
 
 Her friends were too much affected for 
 such a strain as this; therefore it was not 
 attempted. The last fit she had on this 
 morning greatly impaired her strength, and 
 left her in a kind of stupor. Her face grew 
 very pale, her eyes lost their vivacity, and 
 her change seemed approaching very fast. 
 She lay in this state the whole of the day, 
 and appeared not to recollect any about her, 
 excepting now and then. By what little 
 could be made out, she seemed very com- 
 posed and happy, though her strength was 
 greatly debilitated. She said at one time, " I 
 shall see him as he is : I shall be for ever 
 near him, and behold his face : my eyes shall 
 behold him : I shall see him for myself, and 
 
 17 
 
194 MEMOIR OF 
 
 not another." But this she spoke with great 
 weakness and languor, and seemed on the 
 verge of experiencing the blessings she was 
 speaking of. In the evening she had another 
 fit, in which she lay about twenty minutes, 
 and continued all the night partly in a doze, 
 and partly insensible. 
 
 Wednesday, she continued in the same 
 state, and had three very strong fits. Upon 
 listening very attentively to her, she was 
 heard whispering to herself, " Blessed be 
 God ! blessed be God !" She seemed per- 
 fectly calm and happy : but these intervals 
 of sense were diminished by each fit. About 
 nine in the evening, her son spoke to her, to 
 see if she knew him : she seemed sensible for 
 a few minutes, called him by name, and ex- 
 pressed how tenderly she loved him. During 
 the night, she was almost incessantly con- 
 vulsed, but no regular fit came on till about 
 half past two : before breakfast time, she had 
 five fits. In the interval of the fifth, he ad- 
 dressed her, " My dearest mother, do you 
 know me ?" She replied, " My dear son 
 Basil, I am afraid you will make yourself 
 ill ;" alluding to his having sat up with her. 
 This was the last time she spoke. From 
 this hour she drew her breath with great 
 difficulty; and between this and eleven at 
 night, she had no fewer than thirty fits ; but 
 in all these, it was evident she felt no pain ; 
 nor was she sensible, or in the least con- 
 scious, that she had been so attacked. 
 
 The hour was now approaching, in which 
 
MRS. HANNAH WOODD. 195 
 
 her friends were to part with this vahiable 
 woman, whom they had been so long en- 
 deared to, whom they highly respected as a 
 mother, sincerely loved as a friend, and ad- 
 mired as a real Christian. Still, the assured 
 confidence of her eternal salvation would not 
 permit them but to rejoice in the approaching 
 felicity of one, to whom they had been so 
 nearly allied. They reflected on the good- 
 ness of God, in that her valuable life was so 
 long spared, and that they had for so many 
 years the benefit of her instruction, example, 
 and prayers. She expired on the 12th of 
 November, 1784. 
 
MEMOIR 
 
 OF 
 
 LADY GLENORCHY. 
 
 WiLHELMiNA Maxwell, Viscountess Glen- 
 orchy, was the younger of two daughters 
 left by Dr. Wilham Maxwell, of Preston, a 
 gentleman of high respectability and large 
 fortune in Galloway, North Britain; and 
 was born at Preston, Sept. 2, 1741. Dr. 
 Maxwell died four months before the birth 
 of his youngest daughter ; and his widow, 
 (afterwards Lady Alva,) wishing to perpetu- 
 ate the name of a husband so dear, called 
 the fatherless child, Wilhelmina. The eldest 
 daughter was married at Edinburgh, in April 
 1761, to WiUiam, Earl of Sutherland: the 
 youngest, who is the subject of these me- 
 moirs, was married at London, some months 
 afterwards, to John, Lord Viscount Glenor- 
 chy, only son of the Earl of Breadalbane. 
 
 Lady Glenorchy was only in her twentieth 
 year, when, dazzled with the fascinations of 
 grandeur, she complied with the wishes ot" 
 her friends, who had pushed on this splendid 
 match. With fine talents, which had been 
 improved by a very liberal and expensive 
 education, she combined an agreeable person, 
 196 
 
LADY GLENORCHY. 197 
 
 a temper vivacious and peculiarly formed 
 for hilarity, a considerable share of wit and 
 pleasantry, and every accomplishment which 
 could render her an object of admiration in 
 the circles of fashion. She was esteemed 
 one of the first amateur musicians of the day, 
 and had a charming voice. The year after 
 her marriage, she accompanied Lord Glen- 
 orchy in a tour through France and Italy, 
 where they spent about two years. On 
 their return, she became involved in all the 
 dissipation of high life, till her health began 
 to suffer, and seasons of indisposition brought 
 leisure for solemn reflections. Early in the 
 summer of 1765, while at Tay mouth Castle 
 in Perthshire, the seat of the Earl of Bread- 
 albane, she was seized with a dangerous 
 putrid fever. On her convalescence, a train 
 of serious thoughts and reasonings was pro- 
 duced, followed by convictions and purposes, 
 which ended in a complete renovation of 
 heart and of conduct. She had been taught 
 in early youth that form of sound words 
 which is contained in the Assembly's Cate- 
 chism ; and now, the first question and ans- 
 wer occurring to her, " What is the chief 
 end of man?" — "Man's chief end is, to 
 glorify God and to enjoy him for ever" — she 
 was involuntarily led to muse on the words, 
 and to put to herself the important questions; 
 Have I answered the design of my being? 
 Have I glorified God? Shall I enjoy him 
 for ever ? On reviewing her life of thought- 
 less gayety, she could come to no other 
 17* 
 
198 MEMOIR OF 
 
 conclusion than that there was no connexion 
 between such conduct, and the glorifying 
 and enjoying of God, and that consequently, 
 hitherto, she had not answered the chief end 
 of her existence. The result will best be 
 given in her Ladyship's own words, as con- 
 tained in her diary. They occur in the 
 memorandum made on her first birthday 
 after the period at which the manuscript com- 
 mences. 
 
 " September 2. — I desire this day to hum- 
 ble myself before God, and to bless him as 
 my Creator, who called me into being from 
 the dust of the earth ; who hath been my 
 preserver in the midst of many dangers ; 
 and who hath, ever since my birth, loaded 
 me with tender mercies and loving-kind- 
 nesses. But above all, I would bless his 
 holy name, that he hath not left me in the 
 state of alienation from him in which 1 was 
 by nature, but that he hath of his free grace 
 and mercy brought me out of darkness, and 
 shown me the glorious light of his gospel, 
 and caused me to hope for salvation through 
 Jesus Christ. Many a time was he pleased 
 to convince me of sin in my early years ; 
 but these convictions were as the morning 
 dew that soon passeth away. A life of 
 dissipation and folly soon choked the good 
 seed. Carnal company and diversions filled 
 up the place in my soul that was due alone to 
 God. The first twenty years of my life were 
 spent after the fashion of this world. Led 
 
LADY GLENORCHY. 199 
 
 away by vanity and youthful folly, I forgot 
 my Creator and Redeemer ; and if at any 
 time I was brought by sickness or retirement 
 to serious reflection, my ideas of God were 
 confused and full of terror : I saw my course 
 of life was wrong, but had not power to 
 alter it, or to resist the torrent of fashionable 
 dissipation that drew me along with it. 
 Sometimes I resolved to begin a godly life, — 
 to give all I had in charity, and to live only 
 to God ; — but I was then ignorant of God's 
 righteousness, and went about to establish a 
 sort of righteousness of my own, by which 1 
 hoped to be saved. God was therefore gra- 
 cious in letting me feel how vain all my 
 resolutions were, by allowing me to relapse 
 again and again into a life of folly and 
 vanity. My ignorance of the gospel was 
 then so great, that I did not like to hear 
 ministers preach much about Jesus Christ ; I 
 saw neither form nor comeliness in him, and 
 thought it would have been more to the 
 purpose, had they told us what we should do 
 to inherit eternal life. My idea of Christ 
 was, — that after I had done a great deal, he 
 was to make up the rest : this was my 
 religion ! How marvellous is thy grace, 
 Lord ! to pardon such a worthless creature, 
 who thus depreciated thy great suflerings 
 and meritorious death, and endeavoured to 
 rob thee of the glory which belongs to thee 
 alone. 
 
 " But this was not the only way in which 
 I tried to rob God of his glory. I claimed 
 
200 MEMOIR OF 
 
 great merit in the patience with which he 
 enabled me to bear the severe trials and 
 afflictions he was graciously pleased to send 
 upon me, to bend my stubborn heart to his 
 yoke. I thought I had not deserved such a 
 lot; — and thus 1 secretly rebelled against the 
 good will- of the Lord. About this time I 
 got acquainted with the Hawkstone family. 
 Some of them had the reputation of being 
 Methodists. I liked their company and con- 
 versation, and wished to be as religious as 
 they were, being convinced that they were 
 right ; but 1 still loved the world in my heart, 
 and could not think of secluding myself from 
 its pleasures altogether. I would gladly 
 have found out some way of reconciling God 
 and the world, so as to save my soul, and 
 keep some of my favourite amusements. I 
 used many arguments to prove that balls, 
 and other public places, were useful, and 
 necessary in society, — that they were inno- 
 cent and lawful, and that the affairs of life 
 could not go on well without them. The 
 Lord, however, followed me with convic- 
 tions. My own thoughts became very un- 
 easy to me, the burden of my misfortunes 
 intolerable. My health and spirits at last 
 sunk under them, and for some time before 
 1 left off going to public aumsements, (where 
 I appeared outwardly gay and cheerful,) my 
 heart was inwardly torn with anguish and 
 inexpressible grief The enemy now sug- 
 gested to me, that I had no resource left, but 
 to give myself up entirely to the gayeties of 
 
LADY GLENORCHY. 201 
 
 life, and seek consolation in whatever way 
 it presented itself, without paying any regard 
 to those maxims of wisdom which hitherto 
 liad kept me within some bounds. To the 
 best of my remembrance, it was the very 
 same night in which this thought was sug- 
 gested, that I was seized with a fever, which 
 threatened to cut short my days ; during the 
 course of which, the first question of the 
 Assembly's Catechism was brought to my 
 mind, — What is the chief end of man ? as if 
 some one had asked it. When I considered 
 the answer to it. To glorify God and enjoy 
 him for ever, I was struck with shame and 
 confusion. I found I had never sought to 
 glorify God in my life, nor had any idea of 
 what was meant by enjoying him for ever. 
 Death and judgment were set before me, — 
 my past sins came to my remembrance. I 
 saw no way to escape the punishment due 
 unto them, nor had I the least glimmering 
 hope of obtaining the pardon of them through 
 the righteousness of another. In this dismal 
 state I continued some days, viewing death 
 as the king of terrors, without a friend to 
 whom I could communicate my distress, and 
 altogether ignorant of Jesus the friend of 
 sinners. At this time, the Lord put it into 
 the heart of Miss Hill to write to me. I 
 received her letter with inexpressible joy, as 
 I thought she might possibly say something 
 that would lessen my fears of death. I im- 
 mediately wrote to her of my sad situation, 
 and begged her advice. Her answer set me 
 
202 MEMOIR OF 
 
 upon searching the Scriptures, with much 
 prayer and suppUcation that the Lord would 
 show me tlie true way of salvation, and not 
 suffer me to be led into error. One day, in 
 particular, I took the Bible in my hand, and 
 fell upon my knees before God, beseeching 
 him with much importunity to reveal his 
 will to me by his word. INIy mouth was 
 filled with arguments, and I was enabled to 
 plead with him, that as he had made me, 
 and given me the desire I then felt to know 
 him, he would surely teach me the way in 
 which I should walk, and lead me into all 
 truth, — that he knew I only wished to know 
 his will in order to do it, — that I was afraid 
 of being led into error ; but as he was truth 
 itself, his teaching must be infallible. I there- 
 fore committed my soul to him, to be taught 
 the true way of salvation. After this prayer 
 was finished, I opened the Bible then in my 
 hands, and read part of the third chapter of 
 the Epistle to the Romans, where our state 
 by nature, and the way of redemption through 
 a propitiatory sacrifice, are set clearly forth. 
 The eyes of my understanding were opened, 
 and I saw wisdom and beauty in the way of 
 salvation by a crucified Redeemer. I saw 
 that God could be just, and justify the un- 
 godly. The Lord Jesus now appeared to 
 me as the city of refuge, and I was glad to 
 flee to liim as my only hope. This was in 
 summer, 1765. Since that time, I have had 
 many ups and downs in my Christian course, 
 but have never lost sight of Jesus as the 
 
LADY GLENORCHY. 203 
 
 Saviour of the world, though I have often 
 had doubts of my own interest in him. I 
 can safely say, that I would not give up the 
 little knowledge 1 have of him for any thing 
 on earth. And although I have already 
 suffered reproach for observing his precepts, 
 and shortly expect to be scoffed at by all my 
 former acquaintances, and to have my name 
 cast out as evil, yet I rejoice in that he 
 thinketh me worthy to bear his cross. And 
 I now beseech thee, Lord, to accept of my 
 soul, body, reputation, property, and influ- 
 ence, and every thing that is called mine, 
 and do with them whatever seemeth good in 
 thy sight. I desire neither ease, health, nor 
 prosperity, any further than may be useful to 
 promote thy glory. Let thy blessed will be 
 done in me, and by me, from this day forth. 
 let me begin this day to live wholly to 
 thee. Let thy grace be sufficient for me, 
 and enable me to overcome the world. And 
 to thee be ascribed the honour and glory, 
 now and for evermore. Amen and amen.'^ 
 Great Sugnal in Staffordshire, where Lord 
 and Lady Glenorchy sometimes resided, is 
 at no great distance from Hawkstone ; and 
 the families had by these means become 
 acquainted with each other, so far as to 
 exchange visits. At this period, several of 
 the younger branches of the Hawkstone fam- 
 ily, Mr. Richard Hill, the Rev. Rowland Hill, 
 Miss Hill, and a younger sister, afterwards 
 Mrs. Tudway, were decidedly pious ; and 
 they bore and braved the reproach ordinarily 
 
204 MEMOIR OF 
 
 drawn down by a religious character, from 
 the thoughtless, the formal, and the profligate. 
 Lady Gienorchy was not yet twenty-four, 
 and Miss Hill was not much older, when, 
 by this correspondence, their slight intimacy 
 was ripened into a warm and permanent 
 friendship. Nothing could be more judicious, 
 faithful, or affectionate, than the first letter 
 which Miss Hill wrote in answer to the 
 unexpected communication from Lady Gien- 
 orchy, in which her once gay friend laid 
 open the agitated and anxious state of her 
 feelings under deep religious convictions. By 
 the blessing of God, that letter was attended 
 by the happiest efl'ect : it was the means 
 employed by Divine grace to rescue her 
 from despondency, and to direct her to the 
 "city of refuge." From that moment, with- 
 out conferring with flesh and blood, Lady 
 Gienorchy resolutely turned her back on the 
 dissipated world, and devoted herself, and all 
 that she could command or influence, with- 
 out reserve, to the service of her Redeemer, 
 and the glory of God. The correspondence 
 between these friends, which was carried on 
 without interruption from 1765 to 176S, was 
 doubtless of the utmost benefit to both. 
 None of Lady Glenorchy's letters, however, 
 have been preserved: they were probably 
 destroyed by Miss Hill, who survived her 
 only a few years, on account of their con- 
 taining much delicate communication. 
 
 Her Ladyship passed the winter of 1765-6, 
 in London and Bath, where every means 
 
LADY GLENORCHY. 205 
 
 was employed to induce her to return to the 
 circles of dissipation : but neither severity nor 
 artifice, both of which were put in practice, 
 could divert her from her steadfastness. We 
 find Miss Hill, in one of her letters, congratu- 
 lating her on the resolution and fortitude 
 she had displayed in resisting all places of 
 public amusement at Bath, from a conscious- 
 ness of the vast danger she was in of being 
 again entangled in the world. Lord Bread- 
 albane, her father-in-law, although he did 
 not enter into Lady Glenorchy's views in 
 matters of religion, highly respected her 
 integrity and talents, and entertained for her 
 to his latest hour the warmest esteem. But 
 she was exposed to much that was painful 
 and trying from other quarters, and was 
 visited with some severe domestic trials. 
 The loss of her only sister Lady Sutherland, 
 in 1766, must have been aggravated to her 
 by the melancholy circumstances attending 
 it. The death of their eldest daughter had 
 so deeply affected Lord and Lady Suther- 
 land, that leaving their seat at Dunrobin, 
 they repaired to Bath, to seek relief in a 
 change of scene and the amusements of the 
 gay world ; but they found it not. Soon 
 after their arrival, his Lordship was seized 
 with a putrid fever, with which he struggled 
 for fifty-four days, and then expired. The 
 first one and twenty days and nights, his 
 Countess never left his bedside ; but at length, 
 overcome with fatigue and anxiety, she sunk 
 a victim to her aff'ection and fidehty, seven- 
 
 18 
 
206 ME3I0IR OF 
 
 teen days before the death of her Lord. 
 Lady Alva, her mother, u'linformed of the 
 event, was on her way to join her daughter 
 at Bath, when, ahghting from her carriage 
 at an inn, she saw two hearses standing. 
 On inquiring whose remains they contained, 
 she was told they were those of Lord and 
 Lady Sutherland on their way to the royal 
 chapel of Holyrood-house. 
 
 The winter of 1766-7, Lady Glenorchy 
 passed in the country, at a distance from all 
 her religious friends, deprived of almost 
 every outward means of religious instruc- 
 tion or comfort, and exposed, thus singly, to 
 all the odium and unkind accusation which 
 the singularity of consistent piety never fails 
 to provoke. Every etfort appears to have 
 been made to reason, or to laugh her out of 
 her convictions. She was charged with 
 hypocrisy and superstition ; and she felt these 
 reproaches with an acuteness which occa- 
 sioned the most poignant distress. Her 
 health appears at length to have been 
 affected by the conflict of her feelings. But 
 her mild perseverance and resignation appear 
 to have met with their reward. She never 
 lost her influence over Lord Glenorchy, and 
 at length obtained his tacit acquiescence in 
 her plans. On her return to Taymouth in 
 the summer of 1767, she frequently invited 
 clergymen to the castle, to conduct domestic 
 worship, and to preach on the Lord's day, 
 after canonical hours, to the household and 
 as many of the neighbours as chose to attend. 
 
LADY GLENORCHY. 207 
 
 When in Edinburgh, she formed one of a 
 select religious party, who used to meet at 
 first at each other's houses, and afterwards 
 at the house of the Rev. Mr. Walker, then 
 senior minister of the High Church at Edin- 
 burgh, and colleague to the celebrated Dr. 
 Blair. Among the distinguished ladies who 
 used to assemble there, were the Mar- 
 chioness of Lothian, the Countess of Leven 
 and Northesk, Lady Banff, Lady Maxwell, 
 Lady Ross Baillie, and others of rank and 
 fortune. Mr. Walker, on these occasions, 
 usually either expounded the Scriptures, or 
 delivered a sermon ; and the meetings were 
 continued weekly by him to the close of his 
 life. 
 
 It was about this period, probably at these 
 meetings, that Lady Glenorchy contracted 
 that intimacy with Lady Maxwell, which, 
 notwithstanding their subsequent difference 
 of opinion relative to the Wesleyan preachers, 
 continued unbroken to the close of her life. 
 The Diary, to which we have already re- 
 ferred, begins abruptly in this same year 
 (1768.) Lady Glenorchy had previously 
 commenced, however, the practice of com- 
 mitting to paper her religious sentiments and 
 varied experience. This document exhibits, 
 in the amplest manner, the fervent piety, 
 guileless sincerity, and tenderness of con- 
 science, by which this illustrious lady was 
 characterized ; and the practice was no doubt 
 highly conducive to her own edification, and 
 even encouragement, when, by this means, 
 
208 MEMOIR OF 
 
 she was enabled to retrace the dealings of 
 God with her soul, and to ascertain her pro- 
 gress in the divine life. But her Ladyship's 
 Diary is open to the objection which lies too 
 generally against these private records ; that 
 they are more occupied with retracing frames 
 and feelings, than with those considerations 
 which are adapted to excite and maintain the 
 feelings that are sought after ; and that thus 
 they have a tendency to fix the attention of 
 the mind on its own operations, rather than 
 on the great objects of the believer's faith 
 and joy. 
 
 In the year 1770, Lady Glenorchy first 
 conceived the design, in union with Lady 
 Maxwell, of opening a place of worship at 
 Edinburgh, in which ministers of the Gospel, 
 of every denomination who held its essential 
 truths, might preach. With this view she 
 hired St. Mary's Chapel, which was opened 
 by the Rev. Mr. Middleton ; one of the six 
 students who, a year or two before, had been 
 expelled from Oxford for attending private 
 religious meetings. This gentleman having 
 received orders in the Church of England, 
 officiated at this time in a small Episcopal 
 chapel at Dalkeith. It was Lady Glenorchy 's 
 intention, that Divine service should be per- 
 formed on the Lord's-day evenings, alter- 
 nately or indili'erently by Presbyterian and 
 Episcopal ministers, and that one day in the 
 week, Mr. Wesley's preachers should be 
 allowed the use of the chapel. The ditfer- 
 ent opinions of the persons employed to orii- 
 
LADY GLENORCHY. 209 
 
 date, never could, however, in the nature of 
 things, coalesce. Large congregations were 
 collected, and good was done to individuals ; 
 but the design, which was at that time quite 
 novel in Scotland, met with much disappro- 
 bation from the religious public. The minis- 
 ters of the Establishment refused to preach 
 in it, on account of the admission of Mr. 
 Wesley's preachers, who were by no means 
 generally acceptable. And at length, soon 
 after the Rev. Mr. De Courcy had accepted 
 the appointment of domestic chaplain to 
 Lord Glenorchy, and minister of the chapel, 
 her Ladyship came to the determination to 
 give up all further connexion with the Wes- 
 leyan preachers. Her letter on this occasion 
 to her friend Lady Maxwell, who was the 
 intimate friend and correspondent of Mr. 
 Wesley himself, deserves to be inserted on 
 account of the excellent spirit which per- 
 vades it. 
 
 " Wednesday Evening. 
 "My dear Madam, — Your letter gives me 
 real pleasure, as it affords me some hopes, 
 tliat you will not wholly withdraw from me 
 that friendship which I hitherto have, and do 
 still esteem a singular blessing. The taking 
 any step which endangered my losing it, was 
 the greatest act of self-denial to me ; and I 
 do not think any thing less than the clear 
 conviction I have for some time had of the 
 propriety of it, could have supported me un- 
 der the struggles I felt between the desire of 
 
 18* 
 
210 MEMOIR OF 
 
 your approbation, and what I thought duty 
 to the cause in which I am engaged. I am 
 sorry if I have offended you by saying, « We 
 boasted too much of a Catholic spirit.' I 
 know that I have found fault with others for 
 being too narrow-minded, who, I now see, 
 acted from more knowledge of the religious 
 world than I had ; and I am not ashamed to 
 acknowledge, that I have in many things 
 acted too hastily, and judged rashly. I 
 hope the Lord will preserve me from this for 
 the future. By what I have done, I would 
 not have it supposed that I do not think the 
 Methodists the people of God. Far be this 
 from me. I only think they do not all preach 
 pure doctrine, and therefore I would not have 
 all of them to preach in my chapel ; else I 
 should frustrate my intention in opening it. 
 Though I desire to have it open to every sect 
 and denomination, yet there is but one doc- 
 trine I would have taught there, — and it is 
 this, and this alone, which obHges me to do 
 what I have done. If I have erred, I pray 
 God forgive me ; and I trust he will, as it is, 
 I hope, more from ignorance of his will, than 
 a rebellious spirit. I have now to beg once 
 more, my dear Madam, that you will con- 
 tinue me some share of your friendship and 
 prayers. This last you are bound to do as a 
 Christian, if you think me out of the way of 
 truth. I feel that I am very ignorant, weak 
 and helpless ; and it is my desire that the 
 will of God may be done in me and by me 
 at all times. Help me then, by your prayers, 
 
LADY GLENORCHY. 211 
 
 to obtain more strength and knowledge of 
 the Lord Jesus ; and I also beg, that you 
 will write to me as often as you can, and say 
 whatever you think may tend to stir me up 
 to more diligence in the work of the Lord, or 
 to keep me from that spiritual slumber to 
 which my heart is very prone. I shall not 
 have time to call on you before I set out for 
 Taymouth. I pray that the Lord may bless 
 you with every spiritual blessing, and return 
 a hundred-fold all the prayers and good offi- 
 ces you have bestowed on your most obliged 
 and affectionate friend and servant, 
 
 W. G." 
 
 In the year 1771, Lady Glenorchy became 
 a widow. His Lordship had been seized 
 with a fit in the month of October of that 
 year ; alarming symptoms returned in the 
 beginning of November; and on the 11th 
 instant, while Mr. De Courcy was praying 
 for him, he expired. He was aware of 
 his situation, and his last days afforded 
 evidence that the religious sentiments with 
 which Lady Glenorchy had endeavoured to 
 impress his mind, had not been lost upon 
 him. Nothing could show more unequivo- 
 cally his Lordship's confidence in her, and 
 his aflectionate sense of her real worth, not- 
 withstanding any difference in their religious 
 views, than the disposition which he made of 
 his property. His will gave Lady Glenorchy 
 his whole real or landed estate of the ba- 
 ronies of Barnton and King's Cramound, 
 
212 MEMOIR OF 
 
 and other lands, and all things belonging to 
 hhn, in full right, constituting her sole ex- 
 ecutrix and legatee ; with full power to con- 
 vert the whole into money, and to employ or 
 bestow the whole or any part " for encourag- 
 ing the preaching of the Gospel, and pro- 
 moting the knowledge of the Protestant reli- 
 gion, erecting schools, and civilizing the in- 
 habitants in Breadalbane, Glenorchy, and 
 Netherhouse, and other parts of the High- 
 lands,'^ in such a way and manner as she 
 shall judge proper and expedient. Of the 
 existence of these deeds. Lady Glenorchy 
 was completely ignorant till they were pro- 
 duced after his Lordship's death. She was 
 thus, at the age of thirty, left her own mis- 
 tress, with an independent fortune of between 
 two and three thousand pounds a year, under 
 circumstances which called for the exercise 
 of all her prudence, firmness, and discretion. 
 The first use which Lady Glenorchy made 
 of the wealth with which she found herself 
 thus unexpectedly endowed, was the erection 
 of a chapel at Edinburgh, which she de- 
 signed to be in communion with the Esta- 
 blished Church of Scotland. The first stone 
 was laid in the month of August 1772. It 
 was, however, many years before her design 
 was fully realized by the settlement of a 
 stated pastor. Early in the following year, 
 it having been represented to her by the min- 
 ister of the parish, that the district of Strath- 
 fiilan was in urgent need of additional means 
 of religious instruction, her Ladyship lost no 
 
LADY GLENORCHY. 213 
 
 time in repairing the chapel there, endowing 
 it, and placing it under the direction and pa- 
 tronage of the Society in Scotland for propa- 
 gating Christian Knowledge. The chapel 
 still remains, and continues to be useful. She 
 also procured two missionary preachers of 
 the Scottish Establishment, under the sanc- 
 tion of the same Society, to go at her own 
 expense through the Highlands and islands 
 of Scotland. 
 
 Her Ladyship's charities were very exten- 
 sive, but many of them were distributed with 
 such secresy that the benefactress could 
 hardly be traced. She sometimes expended 
 hundreds of pounds in relieving indigence, 
 and placing whole families in situations of 
 comfort and usefulness. Her attention was 
 much directed to the most useful of all chari- 
 ties, the religious education of youth. For 
 this purpose she employed different teachers 
 of acknowledged piety and abilities, by 
 whom hundreds of children have been 
 trained up in the knowledge of our holy reli- 
 gion, and fitted for useful stations in society. 
 Many of them are now doing honour to their 
 noble benefactress, as teachers in different 
 departments. Some of them, we trust, are 
 reaping the happy fruits of a pious education 
 in the heavenly state. And very many in- 
 digent youth will, we hope, be indebted, in 
 like manner, to the means which she has 
 provided for the benefit of future genera- 
 tions. To her ladyship's chapel in Edin- 
 burgh, is added a free-school, where are 
 
214 MEMOIR OF 
 
 taught reading, writing, and arithmetic, which 
 also she endowed. Many young men of 
 piety she educated for the Christian ministry. 
 To some able and faithful ministers, wliose 
 congregations were in poor circumstances, 
 she paid the whole of their salaries ; to 
 others, a stated annual sum in part ; to many, 
 occasional donations as she saw needful. In 
 private, the widow and the fatherless, the 
 stranger and the distressed, experienced her 
 abundant beneficence. To enable her to 
 prosecute these schemes of benevolence, she 
 herself carefully looked into all her atiairs, 
 and studied the strictest economy ; and 
 though her dress, her table, her attendants, 
 her equipage, always corresponded to her 
 station, yet, she denied herself the splendour 
 which her fortune and rank could well have 
 afforded and excused. 
 
 The state of her health rendering it neces- 
 sary for her to pass the winter in a warmer 
 climate, Lady Glenorchy spent the close of 
 1776, and great part of the following year, 
 m various parts of the West of England, 
 where her zeal displayed itself in constant 
 efforts to promote the propagation of tlie 
 Gospel. At Exmouth, she purchased a 
 house, and fitted it up as a chapel, in which 
 a congregation of some hundreds was soon 
 collected. She returned to Edinburgh in the 
 summer, but, from this period, continued to 
 spend part of every year in the West of 
 England. In the year 17S1, Lady Henrietta 
 Hope, on the death of her father, the Earl 
 
LADY GLENORCHY. 215 
 
 of Hopetoun, took np her abode with Lady 
 G!enorchy ; and the two friends, who were 
 of one heart and mind in all things, went 
 hand in hand in their labours of benevolence 
 and works of charity. Though an invalid 
 like herself. Lady Henrietta's happy temper, 
 prudence, and sagacity, rendered her society 
 an invaluable acquisition to her friend. In 
 passing through Carlisle, this year, on her 
 way from Buxton, observing an old Presby- 
 terian meeting-house shut up. Lady Glen- 
 orchy, after due inquiry, purchased and en- 
 dowed it, taking care to provide an evangeli- 
 cal minister. The meeting-house has since 
 been enlarged, and continues to flourish. 
 Some years after, being compelled to re- 
 main at Ma-tlock over the Sabbath, in con- 
 sequence of the delay occasioned by her 
 carriage having broken down, she found 
 the state of religion in that village, on 
 inquiry, very low, and immediately deter- 
 mined on the purchase of a chapel and 
 house adjoining, which she ultimately accom- 
 plished. This chapel also has been the 
 means of much good to the neighbourhood. 
 Hope Chapel, erected at Bristol Hotwells, 
 was undertaken at the joint expense of Lady 
 Glenorchy and Lady Henrietta Hope ; but 
 the latter did not live to see her design car- 
 ried into execution. She bequeathed 2500/. 
 however, for this purpose, and Lady Glen- 
 orchy gave it that name in memory of her 
 friend, regarding it as her most suitable 
 monument. Lady Glenorchy appears also 
 
216 MEMOIR OF 
 
 to have been instrumental in opening a new 
 place of worship somewhere iu Devonshire. 
 
 Lady Henrietta's death, though not unex- 
 pected, was a severe stroke to her friend ; 
 but the separation was but short. In June, 
 17S6, Lady Glenorchy once more set out on 
 her return to Scotland. Li her way, she 
 visited Workington in Cumberland, where, 
 having purchased ground for the erection of 
 a chapel, she saw the work commenced. On 
 her arrival at Edinburgh, her friends ob- 
 served an unfavourable alteration in her ap- 
 pearance. On the 14th of July, she was 
 seized with the first symptoms of alarming 
 indisposition. In the forenoon of the follow- 
 ing day, the curtain of her bed being drawn, 
 a relative approaching as softly as possible 
 to ascertain whether she slept, heard her say, 
 " Well, if this be dying, it is the pleasantest 
 thing imaginable. '^ She spoke but little 
 after this, continuing to sleep softly through 
 that night, and great part of the following 
 day, till, near noon on the 17th of July, she 
 breathed her last, the attendants being 
 scarcely able to perceive the change. Her 
 Ladyship was in her forty-fourth year. Her 
 remains were deposited, agreeably to her 
 own request, in a vault beneath her own 
 chapel at Edinburgh, where a neat marble 
 slab, with an appropriate inscription, has 
 been erected by her executrix, Lady Max- 
 well. 
 
 Lady Glenorchy left more than 30,000/. 
 in money, of which she bequeathed 5000/. to 
 
LADY GLENORCHT. 217 
 
 the Society in Scotland for propagating 
 Christian Knowledge ; 5000/. to the Rev. 
 Jonathan Scott, of Matlock, for the educating 
 of young men for the ministry in England, 
 and other rehgious purposes ; and to her 
 mother, Lady Alva, and other relatives, 
 large legacies and annuities amounting to 
 half of her fortune. She left a sealed letter 
 to her executrix, requiring her to finish Hope 
 Chapel at Bristol Hotwells, and to aid her 
 chapels, and other institutions at Carlisle, 
 Workington, &c. ; which directions were re- 
 ligiously attended to ; and not long before 
 
 '^^ her death. Lady Maxwell had completely 
 •>^^xhausted all the funds which Lady Glen- 
 
 ^ jrchy had left at her disposal. 
 
 19 
 
MEMOIR 
 
 OP 
 
 MRS. ANNE THORNTON. 
 
 Mrs. Anne Thornton, whose maiden 
 name was Ford, was the wife of Mr. John 
 Thornton, High street. Borough of South- 
 wark. She was born of respectable parents, 
 in that neighborhood, Nov. 1741, and was 
 married to Mr. Thornton in July, 1772. 
 
 About the age of nineteen, she received 
 her first abiding religious impressions. 
 
 Mrs. Thornton was favoured with a strong, 
 comprehensive, and active mind, which was 
 improved by a good education, and she had 
 a taste for literature ; but this did not prevent 
 her from paying a diligent and exemplary 
 attention to the duties of domestic life. She 
 was much respected in the characters of a 
 wife, a mother, a friend, and a mistress. By 
 her literary attainments, she was well quali- 
 fied to educate her own children ; to which 
 important employment she devoted much of 
 her time. 
 
 The following particulars relate to the 
 manner in which she bore the long and pain- 
 ful illness which closed a useful and honour- 
 able life. 
 218 
 
MRS. ANNE THORNTON. 219 
 
 During the whole of her trying indisposi- 
 tion, her deportment was uniform and con- 
 sistent. Deeply convinced of the vanity of 
 all human learning and acquirements, she 
 repeatedly declared to those around her, 
 " There is a knowledge that must be given 
 up." All knowledge that does not spring 
 from the knowledge of Jesus Christ, and him 
 crucified, or that has not a direct reference to 
 him, will prove at last, to an immortal soul, 
 impertinent as a dream, and unsubstantial as 
 the smoke which the wind driveth away. 
 She said, " if God were pleased to prolong 
 her life, she would chiefly confine her studies 
 to that one precious book, the Bible." She 
 trusted for her acceptance, with God, and 
 for happiness in the invisible state, (of which 
 she had cheering prelibations while yet upon 
 earth,) to nothing she had done in her past 
 life, but wholly and solely to the atonement 
 and mediation of her Saviour. As she had 
 lived as becometh a saint, aiming to regulate 
 her temper and conduct by the precepts and 
 example of her Lord, so she died as be- 
 cometh a Christian, renouncing her own 
 righteousness, and simply relying upon Him 
 who was made sin for us, though he knew 
 no sin, that we might be made the righteous- 
 ness of God in Him. She expressed her 
 solid hope and her stable peace, in terms per- 
 fectly agreeable to what the Scriptures teach 
 us, to expect from those who are rooted and 
 grounded in the faith of the Gospel, and who 
 can rejoice in God as their strength and por- 
 
220 MEMOIR OF 
 
 tion, when flesh and heart are fainting. 
 There was a striking elevation and dignity, 
 combined with simplicity, in her manner and 
 language. Knowing whom she had believed, 
 and expecting to be soon with him to behold 
 his glory, she employed the remnant of her 
 breath in praising Him, in praying for others, 
 in instructing, admonishing, and comforting 
 her children and friends who were with her. 
 With these views she often continued speak- 
 ing, till, through extreme weakness, she could 
 speak no more. But, as soon as her strength 
 was a little revived, she resumed the same 
 pleasing employment till within a few hours 
 before her happy dismission. 
 
 From July 1798, Mrs. Thornton's health 
 had been gradually declining ; but, at the 
 first, neither she nor her family were appre- 
 hensive of danger. The Bath waters being 
 recommended, she cheerfully complied with 
 the desire of her friends. When she had 
 been there a fortnight, she said to a friend, 
 " Before 1 left home, the doctors had little 
 hope of my recovery. I may say, I came 
 hither under a sentence of death from two of 
 them. I heard what they said, with perfect 
 calmness of mind. I felt a sweet composure. 
 I am in my Lord's hands ; and, should he 
 call me home, I believe that He, whose good- 
 ness and mercy have followed me all my life 
 hitherto, will perfect what is lacking, and 
 take me to be for ever with himself And 
 if what I feel is a breaking up of nature, it 
 
MRS. ANNE THORNTON. 221 
 
 is a gradual one. My Lord deals gently 
 with me." 
 
 The Bath waters afforded little relief: her 
 complaints increased upon her. On the 12th 
 of February, some friends from Bristol went to 
 visit her, and found her very poorly. After 
 remaining quiet for about an hour, turning to 
 them, she said, " We have not followed 
 cunningly devised fables, but blessed realities, 
 which now yield me Divine support. My 
 illness has been a pleasant time. I am 
 thankful that I am not to live here always. 
 I look forward with joy to the world to 
 come. I have thought much of, and have 
 felt great nearness to, my friends who have 
 already gained the port. It often seems as 
 if a group of them were ready to receive me. 
 Blessed be God, I can readily leave all my 
 dear friends and relatives, if He call me. 
 My children I dearly love, but I am willing 
 to leave them. I hope they will follow me 
 to heaven. I have endeavoured to recom- 
 mend the best things, and can only lament 
 that I have not set them a better example. 
 Bat if any infirmity or sin they have seen in 
 me, have proved a hinderance to them, I 
 pray God to take the remembrance of it from 
 their minds, and enable them to look to that 
 perfect Pattern, who has left us an example 
 how we ought to walk. I can only recom- 
 mend to them to do the things which he re- 
 quires, and which he has promised to give 
 those who seek him, power to perform." 
 
 After this, she thanked God for bringing 
 19* 
 
222 MEMOIR OF 
 
 her to himself in early life, and said : " What 
 mercy and love have been manifested to me 
 all my life long ! Had I been in the world, 
 and wished to be introduced to persons of re- 
 fined sense, fine taste, and cultivated minds, 
 should I ever have found any of more refined 
 taste and more improved intellects than some 
 of those with whose friendship I have been 
 favoured? With those I have conversed on 
 the sublimest subjects, and I expect to renew 
 the pleasing employment in eternity." 
 
 A friend said: "There we shall all meet. — 
 not only our contemporaries, but the holy, 
 the wise, the pious, and the good of all ages. 
 There we shall see Abraham, the friend of 
 God, Moses, Isaiah, and Daniel." Slie re- 
 plied, " Yes. Whom do we expect to meet 
 in heaven ? Not Alexander ; not those who 
 conquered, but those who renounced the 
 world." 
 
 She then took up the character of Abra- 
 ham, and enlarged upon it, particularly on 
 his condescension to Lot, in yielding the 
 choice of situation to him, for the prevention 
 of strife. She spoke largely on the excel- 
 lency of the Holy Scriptures. To her 
 daughter, she said : " Study the Scriptures, 
 not only as containing truths which are able 
 to make you wise unto salvation, which they 
 do in the fullest manner; but read them for 
 rules of life, for history, for description of 
 characters, for geography, for every thing. 
 One thing which gives history its excellence, 
 is its authenticity ; another, is the character 
 
MRS. ANNE THORNTON. 223 
 
 of the author. Now the Bible is infollibly 
 true ; the Bible is the book of God. It not 
 only instructs us in the knowledge of God, 
 of ourselves, and of the way by which we 
 may approach him with hope, but in what- 
 ever it is needful for us to know; and it will 
 both please and profit every person who 
 reads it with attention and prayer." 
 
 She desired a friend to repeat Gambold's 
 Mystery of Life ; and remarked on the last 
 verse, as peculiarly suitable to herself: 
 
 " Oh ! what is death 1 'Tis life's last shore 
 Where vanities are vain no more ; 
 Where all pursuits their goal obtain, 
 And life is all retouched again." 
 
 In the course of the evening she once or 
 twice mentioned the names of two departed 
 friends, saying, that she felt great nearness 
 to them in spirit. It often seemed to her, she 
 said, as if they were almost visible. She 
 reflected with pleasure on the many happy 
 hours they had spent together on earth, and 
 rejoiced in hope of their friendship being 
 matured in the kingdom of glory. Referring, 
 at another time, to the death of one of those 
 ladies, she remarked on the pecuUariy deep 
 sense of the Divine presence felt by the 
 friends who witnessed the scene, at the mo- 
 ment of her departure, and for some time 
 after ; " It was as if heaven was opened, 
 and the angelic guard all but visible." She 
 added : " What a blessing is it, that we have 
 as full and clear an evidence of the influence 
 
224 MEMOIR OF 
 
 of good and happy spirits on our minds, as 
 we have of the power of wicked spirits upon 
 bad men !" 
 
 Feb. 15. This morning, she strongly ex- 
 pressed her confidence in the Holy Scriptures. 
 After a pause, she broke out in the words of 
 the prophet Isaiah, "Comfort ye, comfort ye, 
 my people, saith your God ; speak ye com- 
 fortably to Jerusalem.'' She then added, 
 " What condescension in God, thus to address 
 his creatures ! The Bible is the best book. 
 It is the truth. Lately I have read little else ; 
 and should I live, it shall be my one book. 
 It contains every thing. I feel my weakness, 
 and it calls upon me to trust in the Lord Je- 
 hovah, for in him is everlasting strength. I 
 know not what our Lord is about to do with 
 me. I grow weaker ; and if he takes me 
 home, it will be from the evil to come. If 
 he should spare me, I trust it will be to bring 
 me to a nearer acquaintance with himself" 
 She then desired a friend to read Isaiah xxvi. 
 and to pray with her. It seemed like wor- 
 shipping before the throne. How near is 
 earth to heaven ! 
 
 On the 17th, being told that it was a fine 
 day, she said : "The fine weather was to do 
 much for me, and so it ivill^^ One saying, 
 " We are hastening where there is summer 
 without winter, and day without night," she 
 immediately cited those lines : 
 
 "The winter's niijht, and summer's day, 
 Glide imperceptibly away ; 
 Too short to sing thy praise." 
 
MRS. ANNE THORNTON. 225 
 
 And a few minutes after, 
 
 " I'll praise my Maker while I'v^e breath, 
 And when my voice is lost in death, 
 
 Praise shall employ my noblest powers : 
 My days of praise shall ne'er be past, 
 While life, or thought, or being last, 
 
 Or immortality endures." 
 
 A little while after, she charged her daugh- 
 ter Maria to tell her other children, that, Uving 
 and dying, their mother loved them : " You 
 have been good and pleasant children to me ; 
 and I pray you, take the Apostle's advice, 
 Be ye kindly aflectioned one towards another ; 
 be ye holy, harmless, and undefiled.^' Then, 
 addressing her daughter, she said : " My dear 
 Maria, you have nursed me affectionately, 
 and now you are called to an affecting scene, 
 a dying mother parting with a child she 
 dearly loves. After I am gone, and you re- 
 tire in secret to weep, perhaps your mother 
 may be looking on. 1 charge you and your 
 dear sisters, let not a thought enter your 
 minds, that you have neglected any thing 
 that could have been done for me. You 
 have all been kind. I have had every atten- 
 tion shown me, that could have been given. 
 The Lord bless you all. Next to my chil- 
 dren, I love my nieces, and I hope you will 
 always love each other. Do not expect too 
 much from each other, and then you will live 
 in love.'' After a short silence, she said : 
 " The mystery of the cross contains our all 
 of good. Our Redeemer, our great De- 
 
226 MEMOIR OP 
 
 liverer, is our surety and our peace. I have 
 no hope, no plea, but Lord^ thou hast died. 
 Oh, Maria, he must be your salvation : ex- 
 pect only to be saved through him !-' 
 
 On the entrance of her physician, accom- 
 panied with his sister, Mrs. Thornton reached 
 out her hand, and said : " And his good 
 sister too ! — We are all sisters in Jesus : some 
 are gone home, others are going, and others 
 will follow. We have fathers, mothers, 
 sisters, and brothers, and you, sir, (looking at 
 the doctor,) have children in heaven. When 
 I came hither, some of my friends did not 
 think I should recover, nor did I know how 
 our Lord would deal with me. But here I 
 am, waiting with patience and resignation to 
 meet his good pleasure. He has brought me 
 low, but he deals gently with me." Then 
 turning to Dr. L., she said, " sir, you know 
 much, you have read many books, but there 
 is no book like the Bible. That blessed book 
 contains the mystery of the cross. that 
 precious blood ! that precious blood ! It 
 bought our all of good, our blessedness for 
 ever !" 
 
 Soon after the doctors had left her, she 
 said, " I fear they do not think I shall go 
 soon." Being told, that they thought she 
 might linger a little, but that they should not 
 be surprised if a sudden change took place, 
 she said ; " I hope my dear children will not 
 think I love them the less, because I am wil- 
 ling to leave them." 
 
 On the 18th, she said, " My Lord will take 
 
MRS. ANNE THORNTON. 227 
 
 me home soon. Though he seems to delay 
 his coming, he has not forgotten to be gra- 
 cious.'^ Soon after, being in expectation of 
 Mr. Thornton, she said, " My earthly, and 
 perhaps my heavenly Bridegroom will come 
 to day." In about half an hour, Mr. Thorn- 
 ton and his two daughters arrived. She was 
 so much affected as not to be able to speak 
 for some time. After a while, turning to 
 him, she said, " My dear husband, you are 
 come once more to take me in your arms, 
 and lay me down that I may die." Upon 
 which, he lifted her upon the sofa. In a few 
 minutes, she said, 
 
 * Not a doubt doth arise, to darken the skies, 
 Or hide, for a moment, my God from my eyes." 
 
 She then called her children, and said : 
 " My sweet Annie ! (I cannot say, my dear- 
 est child, for you are all equally dear to me ;) 
 my precious Harriet ! seek the God of your 
 fathers. He is my support, and my all ; my 
 faithful God." Seeing them much affected 
 and weeping, she said : " 1 love your tears ; 
 they are precious because they are tears of 
 affection. But you may weep too much. 
 Take care that you do not indulge excessive 
 grief." 
 
 On the morning of the 19th, addressing 
 herself to Mr. Thornton, and her children, 
 she spoke to the following purport : — " I 
 liave often thought of a subject which I 
 wished to mention before I left this world ; 
 
228 MEMOIR OF 
 
 but I forbore, because it was an affecting 
 one. I have not written any thing concern- 
 ing it, except in my last birth-day poem. I 
 always disUked funeral pomp. I wish to be 
 buried in a plain, decent manner. I should 
 like to be buried in a country church-yard. I 
 have thought so in years that are past, as 
 well as of late, since I have been so much 
 at Epsom. I used to take pleasure in walk- 
 ing in church-yards, and reading monumental 
 inscriptions. They have their use ; I do not 
 condemn them ; but I beg there may be no- 
 thing of this kind for me, but my name, age, 
 and a sentence of Scripture. The Scriptures 
 contain every thing, and I know no part of 
 them I should rather choose, or think more 
 proper, than Rom. vi. 23. " The wages of 
 sin is death ; but the gift of God is eternal 
 life.' I feel what a poor, vile, helpless, un- 
 worthy sinner I am ; as Gambold says, ' No 
 deed of mine, but proved me worse.' In 
 one sense, all I have done is sin. In an- 
 other, it is not. I thank God for any good 
 he enabled me to do ; but the good that is 
 done upon earth, the Lord doeth it. I wish 
 you to have proper views of your own be- 
 ing. I think some people deficient herein. 
 They have not a right sense of the import- 
 ance of their own being. I have gloried in 
 my being a redeemed creature ; this dignifies 
 human nature. St. Paul gloried in the cross : 
 it was this that raised him up. And St. 
 Peter says, 'We have not followed cunningly 
 devised fables, when we made known unto 
 
MRS. ANNE THORNTON. 229 
 
 you the coming and power of our Lord 
 Jesus Christ, but were eye-witnesses of his 
 majesty,' &c. No, faith apprehends reahties; 
 faith opens the world to come. This life is 
 but the beginning of our existence : when 
 we begin to Uve here, we begin to die ; and 
 when we die (in the faith,) we enter into a 
 fuller enjoyment of the blessed realities which 
 faith now apprehends. may the Holy 
 Spirit impress these truths upon your hearts, 
 my dear children ! Without his mfluence 
 all is nothing." Then, leaning her head 
 back, she said, " Lord, now take me to thy- 
 self. Let me depart in peace according to 
 thy word, for mine eyes have seen thy salva- 
 tion. Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." 
 
 She was now quite exhausted, and sank 
 into a fit, which threatened her dissolution. 
 But she revived ; and on being offered some 
 refreshment, she said : " He that giveth a cup 
 of cold water for the Lord's sake, shall in 
 no wise lose his reward. How well it is to 
 be employed in acts of kindness, of which 
 our Lord takes such notice ! I have thought 
 of that text, ^ Henceforth I will driixk no 
 more of the fruit of the vine, till I drink it 
 new with you in my Father's kingdom.' 
 What a parting meal was that of which our 
 Lord partook with his disciples ! W^hat 
 condescension ! What intimate familiarity ! 
 This scripture, and others, have led me to 
 consider the similitude and connexion be- 
 tween earth and heaven ; such as, « I am the 
 vine, ye are the branches.' What a union I 
 
 20 
 
230 MEMOIR OF 
 
 It is a subject that has often afforded me 
 pleasure and profit." A person said, " You 
 used to reason from analogy.'' She rephed ; 
 " Yes, I used to love to compare reason with 
 faith, and nature with revelation. And 
 though some persons may think these thhigs 
 strange, I have had such openings into them 
 within these few days, as I did not expect in 
 this hfe. But many people laugh at what 
 they do not understand." Her pillow being 
 a little moved, she said : " My mother used 
 to say. If I were a queen, I could not be 
 better attended. I am sure I may say so. 
 But I have often felt pain that I did no more 
 for her ; though I paid her all the attention 
 in my power. She was a blessed woman, 
 and I sometimes think she will be one of the 
 first happy spirits to welcome me home. 
 How I shall rejoice in a future day, to pre- 
 sent my children to her in glory !" 
 
 In the afternoon, she turned to her daugh- 
 ters, and said, " God has been better to me 
 than my fears. You little expected to see 
 your mother dying with so little fear. I 
 have had many fears," (alluding to a com- 
 plaint which threatened her with painful con- 
 sequences for many years,) " but my Lord 
 has been good to me. My fears drove me 
 to prayer ; and what pain I did feel, has 
 often drawn me nearer to my God. Dr. L. 
 brought me good news, when he told me, I 
 was going home to my God. Lord, suffer 
 me not to be impatient : thy time is best ; thy 
 will be done !" 
 
MRS. ANNE THORNTON. 231 
 
 The room being dark, she asked for a light, 
 saying, " Light is sown for the righteous, and 
 joy for the upright in heart." In the even- 
 ing, being in much pain, she cried, " Lord, 
 have mercy upon me : do thou help me : let 
 thy rod and staff comfort me. Thou hast 
 prepared a table for me in the wilderness." 
 Soon after, she prayed fervently ; and calling 
 upon the Saviour of sinners, said, 
 
 "* Son of God ! thy blessing grant ; 
 Still supply my every want.' 
 
 " I did not think that nature could have held 
 out so long ; but, Lord, thou showest me that 
 thy time and manner are the best. Give me 
 strength and patience, and let thy will be 
 done." 
 
 On the 20th, in the morning, she said, " I 
 am waiting for my dismission. My Saviour, 
 my God, my All ! perfect what thou seest 
 lacking in my soul, and take me to thyself. 
 Remember the word in which thou hast 
 caused me to trust. I will trust, and not be 
 afraid, for the Lord Jehovah is my strength 
 and my song." 
 
 Being informed that a friend had sent her 
 kind sympathizing love to her, she was awhile 
 silent, and then said, " I love her ; the very 
 hearing of her name revives me. We know 
 little of the value of love here, to what we 
 shall in eternity." 
 
 Being told that Miss Martha More had 
 frequently called when she was too ill to see 
 
232 MEMOIR OF 
 
 any one, she said : " I love her, and all that 
 family. They fill an important station. 
 There are but few people of talents, who can 
 bear to know their own importance. But it 
 ought to humble us, and stimulate us to use 
 them ; for talents, for the good of others, are 
 an awful trust committed to our care. It is 
 not at our option whether we shall use them 
 or not. I have often had serious thoughts 
 upon this subject. It is seldom we see such a 
 family as the Mores. I have many thoughts 
 in my mind concerning them, if I had but 
 strength to arrange them." Feeling herself a 
 little better, she desired that Miss More might 
 be sent for. On her arrival, she addressed 
 her to this effect : " I am glad to see you. 
 When I came hither, I seemed nearly as well 
 as you are now. One day, before I left 
 home, the doctor seeing me walk across the 
 room with apparent strength, said something 
 concerning me, from which I thought I 
 should probably slip through your hands ; 
 but the thought was not painful. I felt no 
 fear. Now I am going. And though I do 
 not think that any thing I am able to say, 
 can have much weight as coming from me, 
 yet, I wished to see you. Yours is a singu- 
 lar family. God has given great talents to 
 you all ; and it is true wisdom to know the 
 part we are called to act, and to fulfil it. We 
 are little aware of the loss we shall sustain, 
 if we do not properly fill up the place for 
 which we are fitted. I have had awful 
 views of this, such views as have influenced 
 
MRS. ANNE THORNTON. 233 
 
 my intentions. I havre aimed at rising what 
 was committed to me, to the glory of God ; 
 and though I have fallen far short of my 
 aim, yet, I am now thankful that my endea- 
 vours were directed to what at this important 
 moment my mind fully approves. I am a 
 weak, helpless creature, and do not speak 
 because I have filled my place, or done the 
 work assigned me ; no, I have only aimed at 
 it ; but I speak because of the sluggishness 
 of my nature, and because I wish every one 
 had a proper sense of the increasing enjoy- 
 ment they may gain by a right use of their 
 time and talents. The necessity of this ap- 
 pears from the Apostle's words, ' Press to- 
 wards the mark ; covet earnestly the best 
 gifts;' and from our Lord's account of the 
 ten virgins. They were all intrusted with 
 talents, all had light, and all had gifts ; but 
 five were wise, and five were foolish. The 
 former improved, the latter neglected their 
 talents. You are engaged in a good work ; 
 may you go on and prosper ! If he that 
 giveth a cup of cold Avater shall not lose his 
 reward, the service of those who seek the 
 spiritual good of their fellow-creatures shall 
 surely be remembered. God is faithful. I 
 am a poor worm, but I have found him so, 
 beyond what I could have hoped. Often in 
 my chamber have I prayed, 
 
 * When pain o'er my weak flesh prevails, 
 
 With lamb-like patience arm my breast ; 
 When woundinfj grief my soul assails, 
 In lowly weakness may I rest.' 
 20* 
 
234 MEMOIR OF 
 
 I have had a strong assurance that it would 
 be so ; insomuch that I have often returned 
 to my knees to thank God for what I be- 
 lieved he would do. I have often poured 
 forth my soul in prayer respecting the hour 
 which now draws near. I had reason to 
 believe He would be with me; and now He 
 is answering my faith. If a petition has 
 been presented, we know it was accepted, if 
 the thing petitioned for be granted. Does it 
 not amount to a certainty ? Spiritual things 
 are realities. Faith produces effects. God is 
 faithful to his word." 
 
 Then, turning to her children, she said, "My 
 dear children, let no one cheat you out of im- 
 mortality." Miss More was much affected, 
 and thanked her for her prayers and counsel. 
 She replied ; " We often ask other's prayers ; 
 but we have only faint conceptions of the 
 love and benevolence of the prayer of Jesus 
 for us. precious, precious Saviour ! How 
 great is thy love ! JNIay he help you to go 
 on in the good work in which you are en- 
 gaged ! True wisdom, I again repeat it, is 
 to know our calling, to live in it, to be holy 
 and useful. So shall an abundant entrance 
 be administered unto us into the heavenly 
 kingdom." 
 
 She was now quite exhausted, and fell 
 back into one of the fits which we often 
 thought would have taken her home ; but 
 she sank into sleep ; and afterwards, though 
 very ill all day, continued testifying of the 
 unbomided love of God our Saviour, often 
 
MRS. ANNE THORNTON. 235 
 
 saying, " Lord, now lettest thou thy servant 
 depart in peace," &c. 
 
 Soon after, mentioning a pious individual, 
 she said, she remembered that several years 
 ago, he had a fever, which produced deli- 
 rium, during the whole of which, his conver- 
 sation was about spiritual things. ^' I have 
 often thought of him," she added, " since I 
 came hither. My thoughts, through my 
 weakness, have not been always under the 
 control of reason. How thankful should I 
 have been, to have known nothing but what 
 I would wish to think !" A friend standing 
 by said ; " I have often been struck with the 
 rich variety of spiritual sentences and verses 
 of hymns, with which your memory is 
 stored, and in which you now so readily ex- 
 press yourself; and I have thought, I will 
 endeavour more than formerly to advise 
 young people to store their memories with 
 what they would wish to think of in a dying 
 hour." It was told her, that one of her 
 nieces was committing to memory Gambold's 
 " Mystery of Life ;" on which she gave a 
 smile of approbation, and turning to her chil- 
 dren, entreated them to fill their minds with 
 the good things which might be useful to 
 them on a dying bed. 
 
 She then asked a person present, if she 
 had kr]own the good man above referred to : 
 the reply was, ^' Yes, I have often met with 
 him." Mrs. Thornton continued : " I well 
 remember the precious times we used to 
 enjoy in that society. A few simple-hearted, 
 
236 MEMOIR OF 
 
 spiritual people met together : several of 
 them had little learning, but they used to 
 speak in a manner which would not have dis- 
 graced persons of the greatest abilities. Mr. 
 W. was a man of good plain sense. How 
 many persons of fine strong intellects will 
 one day wish to change places with him ! 
 Religion is the one thmg worth seeking 
 after." 
 
 Near midnight she was in great pain, and 
 prayed most fervently that our Lord would 
 take her to himself She complained of the 
 room being dark : and when told that there 
 were candles in it, and that it was owing to 
 her illness that she did not see the light, (for, 
 at the approach of her fits, her sight was 
 much affected,) she said, " I am glad you tell 
 me so. I hope it is a proof that I am not 
 far from my heavenly inheritance. I always 
 loved light, because I thought it was typical 
 of spiritual light. I hope, if one of my 
 natural senses is closed, it is a prelude to my 
 spiritual senses being more fully opened: per- 
 haps it may be soon." 
 
 On the 22d, she seemed to be in great 
 pain. She was much engaged in prayer, 
 and often expressed her strong confidence 
 in God. While we were fanning her, she 
 said, 
 
 " From Sion's tops the breezes flow, 
 And cheer us in the vale below." 
 
 For some days she dozed much, and had 
 
MRS. ANNE THORNTON. 237 
 
 several fits. On the 28th, she said, " How 
 comfortably the Lord has kept me this 
 week ! I could not have thought I could 
 have been so comfortable in such a state of 
 weakness. Let patience have its perfect 
 work in my soul. Lord, make me perfect 
 and entire, lacking nothing. Sometimes the 
 enemy thrusts sorely at me with a tempta- 
 tion, to fear that all is not right with me, 
 that after all, I may fail. But he is not suf- 
 fered to distress me. In thee, Lord, do I 
 put my trust. 
 
 " Thy mighty Name salvation is, 
 And keeps my soul above ; 
 Pardon, and peace, and power it brings, 
 And everlasting love." 
 
 A friend said : " God is faithful : you know 
 he is so. Having loved his own, he loves 
 them to the end." She answered, " Yes, he 
 is faithful. In years that are past, when fear 
 has assailed me, I have prayed to the Lord, 
 my heart has been poured out before him, 
 and he has permitted me to talk to him, as a 
 man with his friend. He has comforted me, 
 and now he is answering my prayers. By 
 night on my bed have I sought thee, and 
 thou art my Rock and my Refuge. I renounce 
 all my righteous and my unrighteous deeds. 
 I have no hope or plea but in Thee." On 
 that text being mentioned, "All things are 
 yours, for ye are Christ's, and Christ is 
 God's ;" she took up the words ; " Yes, ye 
 are Christ's, and Christ is God's : and when 
 
238 MEMOIR OP 
 
 Christ who is our life shall appear, then shall 
 we also appear with him in glory." Then 
 looking affectionately on her children, she 
 said ; My dear children, you see your dying 
 parent bearing testimony to the truths of 
 God." Soon after, being in great pain, she 
 said; "If my continuing here sometime longer 
 may be of use to any person, I am willing to 
 stay. These our light afflictions, which en- 
 dure but for a moment, work out for us a 
 far more exceeding and eternal weight of 
 glory." A person repeated the following 
 verse, "While we look not at the things 
 which are seen, but at the things which are 
 not seen ;" and added, " You now are be- 
 tween both worlds, and see the things that 
 are invisible." She replied, " I do indeed. 
 Lord, my sure trust is in thy word, and thou 
 wilt not suffer me to be confounded. I trust 
 in thee, and know in whom I trust." 
 
 Towards the close of life, her weakness 
 was extreme. She said little, except in those 
 blessed words which our Lord himself has 
 taught us, frequently repeating the Lord's 
 prayer, or detached sentences from it ; par- 
 ticularly, " Our Father — Thy will be done : 
 for thine is the kingdom, the power, and the 
 glory, for ever and ever. Amen and amen." 
 For nearly forty-eight hours before her happy 
 spirit took its flight, she took little notice of 
 any thing around her. She expired without 
 the least struggle, on the 12th of March, 
 1799. In a few days, her remains were 
 removed to Camberwellj and on Thursday, 
 
MRS. ANNE THORNTON. 239 
 
 the 21st, they were, according to her desire, 
 interred in Epsom churchyard; where a stone 
 was erected, inscribed with her name and 
 age, and the last verse of the sixth chapter to 
 the Romans: "The wages of sin is death; 
 but the gift of God is eternal Ufe, through 
 Jesus Christ our Lord.'^ 
 
MEMOIR 
 
 OP 
 
 MISS HANNAH SINCLAIR. 
 
 Hannah Sinclair was the eldest daughter 
 of the Right Hon. Sir John Sinclair, Bart, of 
 Uibster, in the county of Caithness, North 
 Britain. Her mother was the daughter of 
 Alexander Maitland, of Stoke Newington, 
 Esq. She died during Miss Sinclair's in- 
 fancy. The subject of this memoir was born 
 Feb. 1. 1780. During the early years of her 
 childhood, she was distinguished by a. thirst 
 for superior knowledge, and a comprehensive 
 understanding, directed even to abstruse sub- 
 jects. At the age of ten, she had read 
 through a great number of volumes in a 
 library belonging to her father at Thurso 
 Castle, where she and her younger sister 
 resided with their grandmother. Lady Jenet 
 Sinclair. Her delight was, to read a new 
 book ; and on whatsoever subject it treated, 
 history, fiction, divinity, philosophy, her 
 young mind seized upon it with avidity. 
 She never took pleasure in the common 
 amusements of children, and was often to be 
 seen climbing on chairs to search for what 
 240 
 
MISS SINCLAIR, 241 
 
 even many grown persons would think very 
 dry reading. One day, siie took a clergyman 
 into her nursery, and opening iier Bible, 
 requested him to explain a passage which 
 she did not fully understand. He did so ; 
 but, not satisfied with the explanation, she 
 argued the point, and he left her with much 
 astonishment at the depth and acuteness of 
 intellect displayed by a child not yet ten 
 years of age. Her memory was as retentive 
 as her understanding was clear. One Sunday, 
 the clergyman of the parish being present at 
 dinner, Hannah was asked for an account 
 of the sermon. She went so regularly 
 through the heads of the discourse, and 
 what was said upon each, that the minister, 
 who, contrary to the usual practice in the 
 Church of Scotland, read his sermons, de- 
 clared that he could not have told half so 
 much about it himself. At this period, she 
 often spoke about rehgion, especially to the 
 servants ; and would converse, and even 
 argue about faith and works, in a style which 
 evinced the distinctness of her theological 
 views. But the early expansion of intellect 
 must not be confounded with the genuine 
 operations of Divine Grace. It is of the 
 highest importance to give an early direction 
 to the infant mind as to the essentials of 
 Christian knowledge; but orthodoxy is not 
 piety. It was Miss Sinclair's deliberate 
 acknowledgement, that, at this period, she 
 had not experienced the regenerating power 
 of the Gospel. 
 
 21 
 
242 MEMOIR OF 
 
 In her eleventh year, Miss Sinclair came, 
 with her grandmother and younger sister, to 
 reside at Edinburgh. Here, she attended 
 the ministry of the Rev. Dr. Walter Buchan- 
 an of the Canongate church, for whose 
 sermons she soon testified a partiality ; yet 
 still, according to her own subsequent views 
 of the progress of religious principle in her 
 heart, during the three years which were 
 then passed in Edinburgh, an intellectual, 
 rather than a decidedly spiritual attachment 
 to the truths of the Gospel, characterized her 
 feelings, and was displayed in her deport- 
 ment. 
 
 At thirteen, she was placed at a boarding- 
 school at Stoke Newington, near London, 
 where she made rapid progress in every 
 branch of education which called forth the 
 energies of her mind, taking especial delight 
 in the study of astronomy. As she grew up, 
 good sense and benevolence were manifested 
 in her whole demeanour ; and to those who 
 are unconscious of the true nature of Chris- 
 tian holiness, Hannah Sinclair would have 
 appeared, at this period, in every respect, a 
 real Christian. 
 
 She returned to Edinburgh at the age of 
 sixteen, and was restored to the accustomed 
 privilege of attending on the ministry of Dr. 
 Buchanan. Not long afterwards the time 
 arrived, when the great concerns of eternity 
 began to interest her heart in a manner to 
 which it had hitherto been a stranger. The 
 truly scriptural and impressive instructions 
 
MISS SINCLAIR. 243 
 
 of her esteemed pastor, seemed in an especial 
 degree to be accompanied witli a blessing 
 from Him, " with whom is the preparation 
 of the heart." The value of an immortal 
 soul, the uncertainty of human life, the 
 approach of another state of existence, the 
 fall of man, the corrupt state of the sinner, 
 the wrath of God against sin, the awful con- 
 sequences of spiritual ignorance and error ; 
 were subjects which now occupied her 
 thoughts, and led her to contemplate with 
 seriousness and solemnity, that great ques- 
 tion, * What must I do to be saved V 
 
 Amidst many feeble notions, and dark con- 
 ceptions, as to what real religion was, and 
 what it was not, she formed the deliberate 
 resolution of becoming religious, of devoting 
 herself to God, and seeking in right earnest 
 for him, who is " the way, and the truth, 
 and the life." The doctrines of the cross 
 were no longer viewed as subjects of a mere 
 acquiescent speculation, but as the soul and 
 substance of present and eternal happiness. 
 
 She afterwards often looked back, and 
 was filled with astonishment, that so small a 
 seed should bring forth any fruits. But He, 
 that planted, nourished it ; and to Him alone 
 she ascribed the rise, progress, and increase. 
 She now felt the decided conviction, which 
 was strengthened by the deliberate conclu- 
 sions of her future and matured judgment, 
 that she must, on scriptural grounds, from 
 this period, date the holy and happy change 
 of "passing from death unto life," through 
 
244 MEMOIR OP 
 
 the renewing influences of the Spirit of God 
 upon her soul. 
 
 From this time, although nothing very- 
 striking, or observable, to those around her, 
 might be apparent, yet there was a great 
 and felt alteration in her views, desires, and 
 pursuits. Her devotional exercises, although 
 they had never been externally omitted, 
 were now performed with a regularity and 
 earnestness which gave them an entirely 
 new character. The Sabbath was not only 
 more punctually observed, but its essential 
 privileges were duly and gratefully prized. 
 The faithful preaching of the gospel was 
 now ardently desired, and beneficence to the 
 poor became a more fixed principle. Until 
 then, she had not comprehended the force 
 and meaning of the apostolical injunction, 
 " Whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of 
 God ;" nor to apply to it, in what are usually 
 considered the more trifling concerns of daily 
 occurrence. Now, that precept was written 
 upon her heart, and became the regulating 
 motive of her conduct. 
 
 Under such circumstances, nothing could 
 be more favourable to her Christian progress, 
 than the constant attendance on Dr. Buchan- 
 an's ministry ; for which she felt, to the end 
 of her life, that she never could be sulliciently 
 thankful. His aflectionate manner was well 
 calculated to make a deep impression ; and 
 his truly Christian spirit forcibly struck her, 
 as indicating that there is, in true religion, 
 somewhat infinitely beyond what appears in 
 
MISS SINCLAIR, 245 
 
 the lives of even the decent and moral : that 
 there is au uniting principle, by which the 
 sinner obtains an interest in all that the 
 Saviour is, and all that he has done for man. 
 
 The great fundamental points of scriptural 
 doctrine, such as the utter depravity of hu- 
 man nature, salvation through a crucified 
 Redeemer, the necessity of the continual 
 influences of the Holy Spirit, and of holiness 
 of life, had long been subjects of mental 
 acquiescence on the part of Miss Sinclair ; 
 but they had never, until this period of her 
 life, produced that solicitude and desire which 
 binds them on the conscience, and makes 
 them the actuating principle of the affections. 
 Like Job, she had previously heard of God 
 " by the hearing of the ear," and had lived 
 in comparative self-complacency; but now, 
 her " eye saw him" in his grace and truths 
 and the result was similar; she "abhorred 
 herself, and repented in dust and ashes." 
 
 To the interesting sermons of her esteemed 
 pastor, under the immediate blessing of God, 
 she ascribed the disposition to make the 
 religion of the Bible the object and business 
 of her hfe. No book to which she then had 
 access, so fully accorded with the sentiments 
 which her heart approved, as " Orton's Ser- 
 mons." These were attentively and prayer- 
 fully studied. Shortly after, Mr. Wilberforce 
 presented her father with his admirable 
 Treatise on Christianity. She was overjoyed 
 to find that the views, now so endeared to 
 her mind, were no less clearly defined, than 
 
 21* 
 
246 MEMOIR OF 
 
 beautifully enforced, in that volume. She 
 read it again and again, often observing, that 
 she could never be wearied with repetition. 
 The ideas of its author on the practical parts 
 of Christianity, in a peculiar manner delight- 
 ed her. They accorded well with the bene- 
 volence of her own heart, and her convictions 
 what the religion of Christ must really be. 
 
 Miss Sinclair lived at this time, as much 
 as was in her power, in retirement. Al- 
 though possessed of qualifications which 
 would have been deemed ornamental to the 
 most polished circles, yet, she sought not her 
 happiness there. She had no relish for 
 worldly company or amusements, and with 
 the pious she had little opportunity of inter- 
 course. Her much valued minister she oc- 
 casionally saw, but it was in company with 
 <^hers ; and he had, at this period, no par- 
 ticular knowledge of the change which had 
 been wrought upon her character. But, in 
 the bosom of her family, she found a salutary 
 and useful employment for her mind. She 
 now took upon herself the task of instructing 
 the younger part of her father's second f:im- 
 ily; and the happy art she had of making 
 instruction agreeable by the interesting mode 
 of communicating it, made her little pupils 
 as eager for a lesson as children commonly 
 are for a holiday. She was so modest and 
 gentle in her temper, so free from the as- 
 sumption of superiority, that it was necessary 
 to be thoroughly acquainted with her, to 
 discover how much her mind excelled tlie 
 
MISS SINCLAIR. 247 
 
 ordinary standard. Her taste for simplicity 
 was shown in the consistent neatness of her 
 dress. She had a perfect indifference to 
 finery and ornament, not unfrequently re- 
 marking, how wearisome it was to hear the 
 subject of dress so constantly spoken of, and 
 expressing a wish that there was but one 
 fashion, which should never change. Yet, 
 she affected no singularity ; and her economy 
 was dictated by a wish to appropriate the 
 more to purposes of beneficence. She acted 
 upon the principle, that Christian charity 
 loses its appropriate distinction, if unaccom- 
 panied with self-denial. Her sound judg- 
 ment was displayed in the mode in which 
 she discharged the duty of alms-giving. She 
 considered it to be a duty to add the labour 
 of investigation to the indulgence of a bene- 
 volent spirit ; and thus, with limited means, 
 she was enabled to do much more extensive 
 good than by an indiscriminate charity. 
 
 It will not excite surprise in any person 
 conversant with the experience of real Chris- 
 tians, that a mind constructed like Miss Sin- 
 clair's should have been exercised with deep 
 and anxious speculations on mysterious points, 
 connected with some of the great doctrines 
 of the Gospel. It is the trial by which per- 
 sons of her turn of mind are more especially 
 liable to be visited. Occasionally, darkness 
 and confusion on some points produced much 
 disquietude, which she, for a considerable 
 time, kept to herself It was not till about 
 the age of twenty-one, that she communica- 
 
248 MEMOIR OF 
 
 ted to a confidential friend, how much she 
 had suffered ; and she long afterwards told 
 that same individual, that there was not one 
 doctrine of the Gospel, in the belief of which 
 she had not at some period or other been 
 shaken. " But," remarks her biographer, 
 "let not this case be misapprehended. Hers 
 was not the hesitation or unbelief of the 
 infidel, but the doubts of an inquiring mind, 
 anxious to arrive at the truth. All this 
 while, she appears to have been convinced 
 of the reahty of the Christian system in the 
 aggregate, but felt a solicitous uncertainty as 
 to some particular tenets. She was even 
 daily and usefully instructing the young 
 members of the family in many essential 
 points, before she had cleared up others to 
 her own satisfaction. The judicious friend, 
 to whom she unbosmed her inmost thoughts, 
 "was often distressed at the state of her mind ; 
 but seldom argued with her, and rather 
 talked of the lovely features of Christianity ; 
 the beauties of holiness, as exhibited in the 
 Ufe of our Lord, and in a faint degree, in 
 that of his people ; the grandeur and magnifi- 
 cence of the scheme of redemption ; and the 
 things that belong to our everlasting peace. 
 Her friend felt assured, that as religious prin- 
 ciples gained strength through study of the 
 Scriptures and prayer, her doubts would 
 vanish, and only prove a prelude to a solid 
 and permanent peace of mind. Hannah 
 repeatedly said, how much she was bene- 
 fitted by these observations, and expressed 
 
MISS SINCLAIR. 249 
 
 the most affectionate anxiety not to lose the 
 advantages which they afforded her. Accor- 
 dingly her mind became gradually and sub- 
 stantially composed, in regard to each and 
 'every one of those difficulties, which for a 
 season had disquieted her. So true is it 
 that, " Then shall we know, if we follow on 
 to know the Lord," (Hosea vi. 3.) Through 
 mental trials of such a description, God exer- 
 cised her faith and patience for a while, 
 only that his own glory might be the more 
 abundantly promoted, by her happy attain- 
 ment of that " peace which passeth all under- 
 standing.'^ It is " thus that he giveth his 
 beloved rest," (Psa. cxxvii. 2.) Religious 
 friendship and intimate communication of 
 heart, founded upon mutual experience of 
 divine mercy and love, are means of grace, 
 which in the secret, and, for the most part, 
 undeveloped history of private Christians, 
 promote much of their growth and advance- 
 ment in the divine hfe. Such opportunities 
 can never be too highly prized : their remem- 
 brance will ever be sweetly cherished, whilst 
 we live on earth, nor does it appear probable, 
 that they can be forgotten in glory. 
 
 In the year 1806, Miss Sinclair, then in 
 her twenty-sixth year, was first seized with 
 symptoms of the complaint which ultimately 
 proved fatal ; the result of a neglected cold. 
 During her illness, those around her expressed 
 their surprise at the calmness and patience 
 she exhibited, and inquired the cause. Her 
 reply was, that it proceeded from trust in. 
 
250 MEMOIR OF 
 
 God, who, she knew, would manage much 
 better for her, than she could for herself. 
 She never entirely recovered her health, but 
 was for some years tolerably well, especially 
 during the summer season. And now, no 
 more was heard of doubts : the doctrines of 
 the Gospel had become the ground of her 
 simple dependence, and her unshaken trust 
 was reposed on the Saviour. 
 
 In the year 1814, Sir John Sinclair and 
 his family left Scotland, and came to reside 
 on Ham Common in Surrey. Here Miss 
 Sinclair had the privilege of cultivating the 
 friendship of a few very estimable and pious 
 individuals ; and, while the state of her health 
 admitted of it, she became the diligent visitor 
 of the sick, and instructor of the poor, in the 
 neighbourhood, of her father's residence. 
 
 In the summer of 1S16, she visited an 
 endeared relative in Scotland. Of the frame 
 of her mind at this period, we have an illus- 
 tration in the record which has been pre- 
 served, of an observation which she made to 
 Lady Colquhon early one morning. " I have 
 never," she said, " been so happy as last 
 night. I was not able to sleep, and began 
 to meditate on the employment of saints and 
 angels around the throne. I ruminated until 
 I thought I saw the multitude of the re- 
 deemed, which no man can number. I 
 fancied I heard their angelic voices singing 
 the song of Moses and the Lamb. Me- 
 thought I joined with them ; and at last I 
 concluded by praying that I might be soon, 
 
MISS SINCLAIR. 251 
 
 if not immediately removed, to unite my 
 note of praise with theirs." 
 
 Ill 1817, Miss Sinclair first commenced a 
 Diary. Her reasons for adopting this prac- 
 tice are stated at the beginning of the Jour- 
 nal, the existence of which was unknown to 
 her friends till after her decease : a few ex- 
 tracts are subjoined, as throwing light upon 
 her character and the exercises of her mind, 
 at this period. 
 
 Ormly Lodge, Jan. 5, 1817. 
 " As it appears from the memoirs of many 
 eminent Christians, that it has been their 
 practice to keep a diary or journal of their 
 reUgious experience, and that they have de- 
 rived much benefit from that practice ; I 
 propose (in humble dependence on the divine 
 blessing) to follow their example in that 
 respect. May that great and glorious Being, 
 without whose assistance 1 can do nothing 
 aright, guide my pen ! May he open my 
 eyes to discern my sins and failings of every 
 kind, and to record them with sincerity and 
 truth ! May he also enable me to record 
 with real heart-felt gratitude the mercies 
 with which he may be pleased to favour 
 me ; and when exercised with vexations or 
 disappointments, may he enable me to re- 
 ceive them, and to write about them, with- 
 out a murmuring word or thought, saying, 
 as Job did, ^ Shall I receive good at the hand 
 of the Lord, and shall I not also receive 
 evil?' 
 
252 MEMOIR OF 
 
 " It is my duty at all times to dedicate 
 myself to the service of my God and Re- 
 deemer ; but I would desire to do so espe- 
 cially now, at the beginning of a new year. 
 
 ! that this year may be better spent in 
 every respect, than those which have pre- 
 ceded it! Do thou, I beseech thee, ! my 
 God, give a check to the wanderings of my 
 mind, and enable me to love thee with more 
 sincerity, and to serve thee with more fide- 
 lity, than I have ever yet done !" 
 
 "January 12. Read Hervey's Theron and 
 Aspasio. Earnestly wished and prayed that 
 
 1 may obtain that precious faith which he so 
 well describes. Heard something in the 
 course of the day which much hurt me. 
 Endeavoured to feel resigned." 
 
 "January 13. Awoke this morning in a 
 better frame, and felt during the whole day 
 more disposed for the duties of devotion than 
 usual. Lord, I thank thee for this great 
 mercy. In the afternoon I heard an attack 
 made on some of the doctrines of the Gospel 
 and did not say much in their defence. But, 
 Lord, thou knowest I was kept silent only by 
 the fear of doing more harm than good. 
 Thou knowest I highly prize thy Gospel." 
 
 " January 20. This day my mind was full 
 of fears and doubts of various kinds. Read 
 Hervey, Newton, and Chalmers' Evidences. 
 Prayed earnestly for a confirmed and assured 
 faith." 
 
 "January 21. The day being mild, I ven- 
 tured to take a walk in the garden : every 
 
MISS SINCLAIR. 253 
 
 thing there looked dull and withered ; but 
 soon, my God ! may we expect to see the 
 face of Nature revive at thy command. 
 that thou wouldst be pleased also to revive 
 the power of religion in my soul, and cause it 
 to grow, and to flourish more than it has ever 
 yet done !" 
 
 " February 1. I have this day, Lord ! as 
 thou knowest, completed my 37th year. ! 
 that I could add, that every one of these 
 years, since I became capable of knowing 
 thee, had been indeed devoted to thy service. 
 But when I reflect on the manner in which 
 they have been spent, I cannot but blush, and 
 be confounded, in thy awful presence. I can 
 only address thee in the words of the pub- 
 lican, ' God be merciful to me, a sinner V 
 Yet, Lord, I cannot but hope that, in the 
 course of the year which is past, I have made 
 some little progress in thy good and holy 
 ways, that my faith is confirmed, my desires 
 to love and serve thee more sincere and 
 lively. Surely if it be so, I have much cause 
 for gratitude to thee. Thou knowest, that 
 my most earnest wish is to grow in grace, 
 and in the knowledge of my God and Sa- 
 viour, Jesus Christ. In him would I desire 
 to place all my hopes, and surely, Lord ! they 
 shall not be disappointed.'' 
 
 "July 20. I have lately made a very 
 
 valuable acquaintance in Miss , who 
 
 has every appearance of being a real Chris- 
 tian. Lord, bless our intercourse, and grant 
 
 22 
 
254 MEMOIR OF 
 
 that I may derive true and spiritual benefit 
 from it ."^ 
 
 " August 3. In the course of last week was 
 introduced by Miss to some poor peo- 
 ple in the neighbourhood, and determined to 
 visit them occasionally, and to read the Bible 
 to them. On Saturday I went to one of them ; 
 read and explained the second chapter of 
 Ephesians. Lord, enable me to keep this 
 resolution, and grant that these readings may 
 prove beneficial, both to myself and my 
 neighbours. Read Leighton on the Psalms 
 to-day, an interesting book lent me by 
 
 and heard the children in the evening." 
 
 " August 10. The weather unfavourable, 
 so that I could not go to church. In the 
 course of last week visited several of my poor 
 neighbours ; read and explained the Scrip- 
 tures to them. Hope to derive benefit from 
 this exercise. In the forepart of this day I 
 felt very cold and dull, but in the afternoon 
 better disposed for devotion. Read the 
 Bible, and Leighton. In the evening heard 
 the children read, and was particularly 
 pleased with some observations made by one 
 of them." 
 
 " September 21. Was at Kingston church. 
 Felt too much of a cold and careless frame 
 while there, and during the whole day. 
 Alas ! Lord, I know not at all what to say 
 for myself! I fear such conduct must be 
 very offensive in thy sight I 0, cause me, 
 I beseech thee, to return unto thee. Grant 
 that thy word may come home to me with 
 
MISS SINCLAIR. 255 
 
 the demonstration of the Spirit, and with 
 power, and may be the means of reviving 
 the power of reUgion in my treacherous 
 heart, of which I have still cause to com- 
 plain !" 
 
 " October 5. Heard a beautiful sermon 
 from Mr. , on Ephes. v. 18, and after- 
 wards partook of the Sacrament, which he 
 administered in the most impressive manner. 
 Surely, Lord, I have now every assistance 
 that means can afford me, but, I well know, 
 that all will be ineffectual, without thy bless- 
 ing. Be thou graciously pleased to impart 
 that inestimable blessing, which maketh us 
 indeed rich, both in this world and in that 
 which is to come, and which addeth no sor- 
 row with it. Heard the young people, as 
 usual, in the evening." 
 
 " October 19. Was occupied, during a 
 great part of the day, in writing a letter to 
 my sister Catherine, at her request, explain- 
 ing the evangelical system of Religion. Do 
 thou, I beseech thee, my God ! grant me 
 the powerful assistance of thy Holy Spirit in 
 the composition of this letter, that I may be 
 enabled to explain clearly, and to enforce 
 earnestly, the interesting and important truths 
 which I have undertaken to illustrate. ! 
 that all my hopes with regard to this letter, 
 and in every respect, may be in thee ; for 
 without thee I can do nothing !" 
 
 " November 2. Heard to-day a truly in- 
 teresting sermon from Matt. v. 6. Grant, I 
 beseech thee, Lord, that I may indeed hun- 
 
256 MEMOIR OF 
 
 ger and thirst after righteousness, in the vari- 
 ous senses which Mr. described, and 
 
 that the promise in the text may be fulfilled 
 in my experience. — Presented to Catherine 
 this evening the letter which I have been 
 writing to her. ! that it may be blessed 
 by thee for her spiritual benefit, and for that 
 of the other members of our family !" 
 
 The Letter referred to in the last para- 
 graph, has been published since Miss Sin- 
 clair's death, and has obtained a very wide 
 circulation with the happiest effects. It con- 
 tains a simple and comprehensive survey of 
 the leading doctrines and precepts of Chris- 
 tianity, and will long perpetuate the name 
 of the writer. Miss Sinclair was solicited by 
 a friend to allow it to be printed anony- 
 mously as a tract for distribution among the 
 poor ; but her modesty prevented her from 
 complying with the proposal. The evan- 
 gelical character of her sentiments, as well 
 as the clearness of her views, will appear 
 from the following paragraphs : 
 
 " The first of these doctrines, and the foun- 
 dation of all the rest, is that of the deep 
 depravity and corruption of human nature. 
 This doctrine, in the main, is not, I believe, 
 denied by any ; but the evangelical preach- 
 ers explahi it in a different manner from 
 what others do. By others it is considered 
 as a slight taint : — by them it is represented 
 as a deep polhiiion ; — a total alienation of 
 the heart from God, which is most culpable, 
 and wholly inexcusable, in his sight. So far 
 
MISS SINCLAIR. 257 
 
 is man, in a state of nature, from loving God 
 above all things, that there is scarcely any 
 thing which he does not prefer to God. 
 To the majority of the world, what duty is 
 so irksome as that of prayer ? What day so 
 wearisome as the Sabbath ? What time so 
 long as that which is spent at church ? What 
 books so uninteresting, as those which treat 
 of religion ? 
 
 "Besides this dislike and repugnance to 
 the exercise of devotion, or, in other words, 
 to all manner of intercourse with God, there 
 is, in fallen man, a spirit of disobedience and 
 rebellion against his Maker. It is true, that 
 many of the persons here described do fulfil 
 various moral duties, and so far obey his 
 commands , but they do not obey them be- 
 cause they are his commands. Generally 
 speaking, some motive of interest, pleasure, 
 or vanity, of self-gratification of one kind or 
 other, secretly influences them ; or if they 
 do pay any regard to God at all, it is the fear 
 of his wrath which prompts them. They do 
 not obey from a sincere filial desire of pleas- 
 ing him, but from dread of a power which 
 they know cannot be resisted. Such is man 
 by nature, without any exception. This 
 charge may be brought with as much justice 
 against the decent and moral, as against the 
 vicious and profane. Nay, even the most 
 eminent Christians, though this is no longer 
 their character, will most readily acknow- 
 ledge that it was once so. They can all of 
 them remember a time, when they were 
 
258 MEMOIR OP 
 
 exactly in the condition here described. 
 Now, as God has repeatedly declared in 
 Scripture, that he will on no account admit 
 into his presence those who are thus alienated 
 from him, it follows of course, that if we live 
 and die in this state, we must perish for ever ; 
 or, to use our Saviour's own words, < Except 
 a man be born again, he cannot enter into 
 the kingdom of God,' John iii. 3. The 
 change which our Saviour alludes to in these 
 words, is described in the Bible under a great 
 variety of figures and phrases, such as ' being 
 renewed (2 Cor. iv. 16. Ephes. iv. 23. Col. 
 iii. 10.) and sanctified (1 Cor. i. 2; vi. 11. 
 Rom. XV. 16. ;) being adopted into the family 
 of God (Rom. viii. 15. Gal. iv. 5, 6. Ephes. 
 i. 5. ;) being no longer under the law, but 
 under grace (Rom. vi. 14. ;) having passed 
 from death to life, (John v. 24. 1 John iii. 
 14.,) &c. &c. ; and St. Paul expressly says, 
 ' If any man be in Christ, he is a new crea- 
 ture ; old things are passed away, behold all 
 things are become new ' (2 Cor. v. 17. ;) by 
 which is plainly signified, not only that the 
 change must be great, but that it must be 
 universal ; ' that all things must become 
 new.' 
 
 " To describe, as plainly and distinctly as 
 I can, wherein this change consists, shall be 
 the purport of the remainder of this letter. 
 May God grant that you, my dear Catherine, 
 and every member of the family to which 
 we belong, may know by experience Avhat it 
 means ! for I must again remind you, that 
 
MISS SINCLAIR. 259 
 
 unless such a change be made upon every- 
 one of us at some period or other of our 
 Uves, we are assured by the Saviour himself, 
 ' That we cannot enter into the kingdom of 
 heaven.' (John iii. 3.) 
 
 " In describing this change, the first thing 
 which I shall mention is, that every true con- 
 vert becomes much more sensible than he 
 ever was before, of his need of a Saviour. 
 Though all are ready to acknowledge them- 
 selves to be sinners, yet those who are in a 
 state of nature are not fully sensible of what 
 St. Paul calls ' the exceeding sinfulness of 
 sin' (Rom. vii. 12.;) but divine grace opens 
 our eyes in that respect, shows us our deep 
 depravity, humbles us in the very dust on 
 account of our manifold transgressions, and 
 compels us to acknowledge there is justice in 
 the sentence which condemns us to everlast- 
 ing punishment. For, to those whose eyes 
 are thus opened to behold their guilt and 
 danger, the Gospel becomes a joyful sound, 
 and the Saviour is indeed precious. They 
 can enter into the meaning of St. Paul's 
 words when he says, ' That he counts all 
 things but loss that he may win Christ, and 
 be found in him ; not having his own right- 
 eousness, which is of the law, but the right- 
 eousness which is by faith in him.' (Philip. 
 iii. 8, 9.) Instead of their former apathy 
 and indifference about rehgion, they delight 
 in reading about the Saviour — in thinking of 
 him — in listening to those sermons of which 
 he is the theme — and the chief desire, the 
 
260 ME3I0IR OF 
 
 most earnest wish of their hearts, is, that 
 they may be admitted to a further acquaint- 
 ance, and to an intimate union with him." 
 
 After treating of the way of justification, 
 and the nature of true faitli, Miss Sinclair 
 proceeds to show the tendency of the Gospel 
 to produce in the heart all the virtues and 
 graces of the Christian hfe. 
 
 " But, first," she remarks, " let me remind 
 you, that sanctification is a gradual work. 
 The change I am describing, from sin to holi- 
 ness, from the love of the world to the love 
 of God, is not instantaneous, ' but resembles 
 the morning light, which shines more and 
 more, unto the perfect day.' (Prov. iv. IS.) 
 *.^n established Christian differs in many 
 respects from a young convert ; and, gene- 
 rally speaking, that difference is in no respect 
 more visible, than in their feelings and expe- 
 rience relative to the pleasures of religion. 
 A young convert is usually beset with doubts, 
 anxieties, and fears. He feels and knows 
 himself to be a sinner ; is depressed by a 
 sense of his own guilt and infirmities ; and 
 has not yet learned to rejoice in Christ Jesus, 
 and to cast all the burden of his sins upon 
 him. But, by degrees, more light is commu- 
 nicated to his mind ; — he perceives how God 
 can be just, and yet the justifier of him who 
 believes in Jesus ; — he applies all the pro- 
 mises of the Gospel to himself; — he looks to 
 Jesus, not merely as the Saviour of sinners, 
 but as his own Saviour ; and believes, not 
 merely that he died for mankind in general, 
 
MISS SINCLAIR. 261 
 
 but for himself in particular ; — and thus he 
 learns to look forward to Heaven, as <his own 
 certain portion and inheritance/ not for any 
 works of righteousness which he has done, 
 but solely because he is united by faith to the 
 all-sufficient Saviour. 
 
 ^^Sorne perhaps may tell you, that this is 
 not consistent with humility ; but they mis- 
 take the nature of Christian humility, which 
 does not consist in believing that we are 
 going to hell, but that we deserve to go there. 
 Who was ever more humble than St. Paul ? 
 He disparages himself in almost every page 
 of his writings; yet he speaks of his own 
 salvation with the utmost confidence — ex- 
 presses a wish to be ' absent from the body, 
 that he might be present with Lord ' (2 Cor. 
 V. 8.) — says, ^That he had a desire to depart, 
 and to be with Christ, which is far better ' 
 (Phil. i. 23,) and ^That to him to live is 
 Christ, and to die is gain.' (Phil. i. 21.) And 
 he describes Christians in general, as those 
 ' who rejoice in Christ Jesus, and have no 
 confidence in the flesh," or in themselves 
 (Phil. iii. 3.) — plainly showing that these two 
 feelings are no way inconsistent with each 
 other. A criminal may believe himself to be 
 worthy of death ; yet, if he receives a par- 
 don, he no longer fears death. Thus it is 
 with Christians — they believe themselves to 
 be pardoned for Christ's sake. 
 
 " It is true, indeed, as I formerly observed, 
 that young converts do not usually view 
 things in this light ; for faith, generally speak- 
 
262 MEMOIR OF 
 
 ing, is a gradual attainment. It is also true, 
 that established Christians may have their 
 seasons of doubt and dejection ; but this is 
 owing to the weakness of their faith, and 
 these seasons are their worst seasons. A 
 variety of circumstances also, such as ner- 
 vous and other diseases, temptations, and 
 misfortunes of various sorts, may depress the 
 spirits of Christians ; but, notwithstanding 
 all these exceptions, for which due allowance 
 should be made, it is perfectly true, that the 
 spirit of the Gospel is a spirit of hope, peace, 
 and joy, and that the « children of Zion are 
 not only humble, but < joyful in their King.' 
 (Psalm cxUx. 2.)" 
 
 In the month of January 1818, Miss Sin- 
 clair had been engaged in some visits of 
 piety an^ benevolence, when she took fresh 
 cold, which produced an alarming aggrava- 
 tion of consumptive symptoms. The flatter- 
 ing nature of the disease might probably 
 have led her not to anticipate that death was 
 quite so near as it proved to be. But the 
 tranquillity, resignation, and devotedness of 
 her mind, testified how ready she was to de- 
 part, whenever it should please her heavenly 
 Father to call her home. It had been a 
 favourite sentiment with her, " that a linger- 
 ing is better than a sudden death, as it gives 
 the real Christian an opportunity of doing 
 good to others, by the example of resignation 
 and piety." Her wish was gratified, and 
 she did not fail to avail herself of the oppor- 
 tunity thus aflbrded, of edifying those around 
 
MISS SINCLAIR. 263 
 
 her. A younger sister one day lamented 
 that her sufferings were so great. She re- 
 phed : " I would cheerfully suffer it all over 
 again, that you might enjoy the same conso- 
 lation from religion in the same circum- 
 stances." This gave rise to a conversation 
 on the impossibihty of any sufferings of ours 
 procuring, for ourselves or others, either tem- 
 poral or spiritual benefit, and the necessity 
 of the anguish which Christ endured on our 
 account. Her uncommon patience struck 
 every one. When it was noticed that she 
 never complained, she said : " It would be a 
 wonder if I were not patient, when I have 
 so many mercies to be thankful for." After 
 lingering for about four months of gradual 
 decay, she expired, without the least strug- 
 gle, on the 22d of May, 1818, in the thirty- 
 ninth year of her age. A few minutes be- 
 fore her death, a faithful and pious servant, 
 who was her constant attendant, asked her 
 if she should turn her. " No," was the 
 reply, " I am so comfortable and happy, I 
 had better remain as I am." She then 
 appeared to be sinking in sleep, but it was 
 presently discovered that the spirit had fled, 
 leaving on her placid and serene countenance 
 an emblem of the inward peace she expe- 
 rienced. 
 
 THE END. 
 
Princeto 
 
 n Theoloaical Seminary U^jajl" 
 
 7 '1012 01198 6215 
 
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