BX 5199 .N55 A37 1850 
 Newton, John, 1725-1807. 
 The life of the Rev. John 
 Newton, rector of St. Mary 
 

 Digitized by 
 
 the Internet Archive 
 
 
 
 in 2015 
 
 
 
 https://archive.org/details/lifeofrevjohnnewOOnewt_0 
 
THE LIFE OF 
 
 THE 
 
 REV. JOHN NEW T O N , 
 
 RECTOR OF ST. MARY AVOOLN.OTH, LONDON. 
 Written by himself to A. D. 170'3, and 
 Continued to his Death in 18U7, 
 
 BY REV. RICHARD VE C 1 L , 
 
 MINISTER OK 3 T. JOHN'S CHAPEL, LONDON. 
 
 4% I will bring the blind by a way that they knew not ; ! will lead 
 them in paths that they have not known ; 1 will make darkness light 
 before them, and crooked thing* straight. These things will I do unto 
 them, and not forsake them.'*— tsuiah, 42 : 1G. 
 
 " I am a wonder unto many." — Psalm 71 : 7. 
 
 FT'BMSHED BY THE 
 
 AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY, 
 150 NASSAU-STREET, KEW-YORK. 
 
 V. 1'anthaw,- Primer. 
 
The Memoir of Newton prefixed to his Works in 
 6 vols. 8vo. consists simply of the Narrative written 
 by himself in the following Letters to the Rev. T. 
 Hawies, which brings down his history to the age of 
 38, A. D. 1763, and was published in 1764. The Me- 
 moir by Rev. Mr. Cecil presents only an abridgment 
 of those letters; but they are here given entire, with 
 the remainder of the Memoir as continued by Mr. 
 Cecil to Mr. Newton's death. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 MR. NEWTON'S NARRATIVE OF HIMSELF, IN LETTERS 
 
 TO THE REV. T. HAWIES, PUBLISHED 1764. 
 Leitcr. Page. 
 
 1. — Introductory, 5 
 
 2. — Early history to the age of 17 — 1742, 14 
 
 3. — Acquaintance with Mrs. Newton. — Sails for Ve- 
 
 nice. — Dream. — Is impressed and put on board 
 a man-of-war. — Infidelity. — Misconduct. — 
 Sufferings— 1743, 1745, 23 
 
 4. — Voyages for Madeira and Africa. — Remains in 
 
 Africa. 40 
 
 5. — Sickness and cruel oppression in Africa, 49 
 
 6. — Better circumstances in Africa. — Is sent for by 
 
 his father, and embarks in an English trading 
 ship, Feb. 1747, 58 
 
 7, 8, 9. — Trading on the African coast. — Dangerous 
 voyage to England.— Apparent conversion, 
 1748, 68 to 86 
 
 10. — Sails again for Africa as mate.— Sickness.— Stu- 
 
 dies Latin, 94 
 
 11. — Sails for Antigua and Charleston. — Returns to 
 
 England. — Is married, Feb. 1750. — First voy- 
 age to Africa as captain. — Resumes the 
 study of Latin, but renounces it for the Scrip- 
 tures, 103 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Letter. 
 
 Page. 
 
 12. — Second voyage to Africa, July, 1752. — Religious 
 reflections. — Varied adven tur es. — Studies. — 
 
 13. — Third and last voyage to Africa. — Sickness. — 
 Religious experience. — Returns to England, 
 
 14. — A fit prevents his return to sea. — Sickness of 
 Mrs. Newton. — Devotions amid rural scenes. 
 Is appointed tide-surveyor. — Residence in 
 Liverpool. — Studies Greek and Hebrew. — 
 Proposes to enter the ministry, but is refused 
 ordination, December, 1758, 129 
 
 rev. mr. Cecil's continuation of the memoir. 
 
 Employment at Liverpool. — Visit to Dr. Young. — 
 Ministerial labors at Olney, where he is ordain- 
 ed, June, 1765. — Acquaintance with John Thorn- 
 ton, Esq. the poet Cowper, and Rev. Thomas 
 Scott. — His publications. — Removal to St. Mary 
 Woolnoth, London, 1779.— His fidelity in the mi- 
 nistry. — Acquaintance with Dr. Buchanan. — Death 
 of his niece. — Sermons on Handel's Messiah. — 
 Death of Mrs. Newton. — Letter to a friend at Rome. 
 — Refusal of the degree of D. D. — Fruitfulness in 
 old age.— Death, Dec. 1807, 138 to 217 
 
 Sketch or his character, 218 
 
 His remarks in familiar conversation, 230 
 
 Return to England, Aug. 1753, 
 
 112 
 
 Aug. 1754, 
 
 120 
 
THE LIFE 
 
 OF THE 
 
 REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 Mr. Newton's Narrative of himself, in Letters to the Rev. T. Hawcis, 
 published in 17C4. 
 
 LETTER I. 
 
 Introductory. 
 
 I make no doubt but you have at times had 
 pleasing reflections upon that promise made to 
 the Israelites, in Deut. 8 : 2. They were then 
 in the wilderness, surrounded with difficulties, 
 which were greatly aggravated by their own dis- 
 trust and perverseness: they had experienced a 
 variety of dispensations, the design of which 
 they could not as yet understand; they frequent- 
 ly lost sight of God's gracious purposes in their 
 favor, and were much discouraged by reason of 
 the way. To compose and animate their minds, 
 Moses here suggests to them that there was a 
 future happy time drawing near, when their jour- 
 ney and warfare should be finished; that they 
 should soon be put in possession of the promis- 
 1* 
 
6 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 ed land, and have rest from all their fears and 
 troubles ; and then it would give them pleasure 
 to look back upon what they now found so un 
 easy to bear: "Thou shalt remember all the 
 way by which the Lord thy God led thee through 
 this wilderness." 
 
 But the importance and comfort of these 
 words is still greater, if we consider them, in a 
 spiritual sense, as addressed to all who are pass 
 ing through the wilderness of this world to a 
 heavenly Canaan ; who, by faith in the promises 
 and power of God, are seeking an eternal rest 
 in that kingdom which cannot be shaken. The 
 hope of that glorious inheritance inspires us 
 with some degree of courage and zeal to press 
 forward to the place where Jesus has already 
 entered as our forerunner ; and when our eye is 
 fixed upon him, we are more than conquerors 
 over all that would withstand our progress. But 
 we have not yet attained ; we still feel the infir- 
 mities of a fallen nature : through the remains 
 of ignorance and unbelief we often mistake the 
 Lord's dealings with us, and are ready to com- 
 plain; when, if we knew all, we should rather re- 
 joice. But to us likewise there is a time com- 
 ing when our warfare shall be accomplished, our 
 views enlarged, and our light increased ; then 
 with what transports of adoration and love shall 
 we look back upon the way by which the Lord 
 
INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 7 
 
 led us! -We shall then see and acknowledge 
 that mercy and goodness directed every step ; 
 we shall see, that, what our ignorance once call- 
 ed adversities and evils, were in reality blessings, 
 which we could not have done well without ; 
 that nothing befell us without a cause ; that no 
 trouble came upon us sooner, or pressed on us 
 more heavily, or continued longer than our case 
 required : in a word, that our many afflictions 
 were each in their place among the means em- 
 ployed by divine grace and wisdom, to bring us 
 to the possession of that exceeding and eternal 
 weight of glory which the Lord has prepared for 
 his people. And even in this imperfect state, 
 though we are seldom able to judge aright of our 
 present circumstances, yet if we look upon the 
 years of our past life, and compare the dispensa- 
 tions we have been brought through with the 
 frame of our minds under each successive pe- 
 riod ; if we consider how wonderfully one thing 
 has been connected with another, so that what 
 we now number amongst our great advantages, 
 perhaps, took their first rise from incidents 
 which we thought hardly worth our notice ; and 
 that we have sometimes escaped the greatest 
 dangers that threatened us, not by any wisdom 
 or foresight of our own, but by the intervention 
 of circumstances which we neither desired nor 
 thought of: I say, when we compare and consi- 
 
8 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 der these things by the light afforded us in the 
 Holy Scriptures, we may collect indisputable 
 proof from the narrow circle of our own con- 
 cerns, that the wise and good providence of God 
 watches over his people from the earliest mo- 
 ment of their life ; overrules and guards them 
 through all their Avanderings in a state of igno- 
 rance, and leads them in a way that they know 
 not, till at length his providence and grace con- 
 cur in those events and impressions which bring 
 them to the knowledge of him and themselves. 
 
 I am persuaded that every believer will, upon 
 due reflection, see enough in his own case to 
 confirm this remark ; but not all in the same de- 
 gree. The outward circumstances of many have 
 been uniform, they have known but little variety 
 in life ; and, with respect to their inward change, 
 it has been effected in a secret way, unnoticed 
 by others, and almost unperceived by them- 
 selves. The Lord has spoken to them, not in 
 thunder and tempest ; but with a still small voice 
 he has drawn them gradually to himself; so that, 
 though they have a happy assurance that they 
 know and love him, and are passed from death 
 unto life, yet of the precise time and manner 
 they can give little account. Others he seems to 
 select in order to show the exceeding riches of 
 his grace, and the greatness of his mighty power : 
 he suffers the natural rebellion and wickedness 
 
INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 9 
 
 of their hearts to have full scope : while sinners 
 of less note are cut off with little warning, these 
 are spared, though sinning with a high hand, and, 
 as it were, studying their own destruction. At 
 length, when all that knew them are perhaps ex- 
 pecting to hear that they are made signal in- 
 stances of divine vengeance, the Lord (whose 
 thoughts are high above ours, as the heavens are 
 higher than the earth) is pleased to pluck them 
 as brands out of the fire, and to make them mo- 
 numents of his mercy, for the encouragement of 
 others: they are, beyond expectation, convinced, 
 pardoned and changed. 
 
 A case of this sort indicates a divine power no 
 less than the creation of a world : it is evidently 
 the Lord's doing, and it is marvellous in the eyes 
 of all those who are not blinded by prejudice and 
 unbelief. 
 
 Such was the persecuting Saul : his heart was 
 full of enmity against Jesus of JS'azareth, and 
 therefore he persecuted and made havoc of his 
 disciples. 
 
 He had been a terror to the church of Jerusa- 
 lem, and was going to Damascus with the same 
 views. He was yet breathing out threatening* 
 and slaughter against all that loved the Lord 
 Jesus. He thought little of the mischief he had 
 hitherto done. He was engaged for the suppres- 
 sion of the whole sect ; and hurrying from house 
 
10 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 to house, from place to place, he carried menaces 
 in his look, and repeated threatenings with every 
 breath. Such was his spirit and temper when 
 the Lord Jesus, whom he hated and opposed, 
 checked him in the height of his rage, called this 
 bitter persecutor to the honor of an apostle, and 
 inspired him to preach, with great zeal and earn- 
 estness, that faith which he so lately labored to 
 destroy. 
 
 Nor are we without remarkable displays of the 
 same sovereign efficacious grace in our own 
 times: I may particularly mention the instance 
 of the late Colonel Gardiner. If any real satis- 
 faction could be found in a sinful course, he 
 would have met with it j for he pursued the ex- 
 periment with all possible advantages. He was 
 habituated to evil ; and many uncommon, almost 
 miraculous, deliverances made no impression 
 upon him. Yet, he likewise was made willing in 
 the day of God's power ; and the bright example 
 of his life, illustrated and diffused by the account 
 of him published since his death, has afforded an 
 occasion of much praise to God, and much com- 
 fort to his people. 
 
 After the mention of such names, can you per- 
 mit me, sir, to add my own ? If I do, it must be 
 with a very humbling distinction. These once 
 eminent sinners proved eminent christians : much 
 had been forgiven them, they loved much. St. 
 
INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 11 
 
 Paul could say, " The grace bestowed upon rue 
 was not in vain ; for I labored more abundantly 
 than they all." Colonel Gardiner likewise was 
 as a city set upon a hill, a burning and a shining 
 light : the manner of his conversion was hardly 
 more singular than the whole course of his con- 
 versation from that time to his death. Here, alas ! 
 the parallel greatly fails. It has not been thus 
 with me. I must take deserved shame to myself, 
 that I have made very unsuitable returns for what 
 I have received. But, if the question is only con- 
 cerning the patience and long-suffering of God, 
 the wonderful interposition of his providence in 
 favor of an unworthy sinner, the power of his 
 grace in softening the hardest heart, and the 
 riches of his mercy in pardoning the most enor- 
 mous and aggravated transgressions ; in these 
 respects I know no case more extraordinary than 
 my own : and indeed most persons to whom I 
 have related my story have thought it .vorthy 
 of being preserved. 
 
 I never gave any succinct account, in writing, 
 of the Lord's dealing with me, till very lately : 
 for I was deterred, on the one hand, by the great 
 difficulty of writing properly when self is con- 
 cerned ; on the other, by the ill use which per- 
 sons of corrupt and perverse minds are often 
 known to make of such instances. The Psalmist 
 reminds us, that a reserve in these things is pro- 
 
12 
 
 LIFE OP REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 per, when he says, ff Come and hear, all ye thai 
 fear Goe/, and I will declare what he hath done 
 for my soul j" and our Lord cautions us not to 
 ft cast pearls before swine. 1 ' The pearls of a 
 christian are, perhaps, his choice experiences 
 of the Lord's power and love in the concerns of 
 his soul ; and these should not be at all adven- 
 tures made public, lest we give occasion to earth- 
 ly and grovelling souls to profane what they can- 
 not understand. These were the chief reasons 
 of my backwardness ; but a few weeks since I 
 yielded to the judgment and request of a much- 
 respected friend, and sent him a relation at large, 
 in a series of eight letters. The event has been 
 what I little expected : I wrote to one person ; but 
 my letters have fallen into many hands : amongst 
 others, I find they have reached your notice ; and, 
 instead of blaming me for being too tedious and 
 circumstantial, which w r as the fault I feared I had 
 committed, you are pleased to desire a still more 
 distinct detail. As you and others of my friends 
 apprehend my compliance with this request may 
 be attended with some good effect, may promote 
 the pleasing work of praise to our adorable Ke- 
 deemer, or confirm the faith of some or other of 
 his people, I am willing to obey : I give up my 
 own reasonings upon the inexpediency of so in- 
 considerable a person as myself adventuring in 
 so public a point of view. If God may be glori- 
 
IATKODUCTOKV. 
 
 13 
 
 tied on my behalf, and his children in any mea- 
 sure comforted or instructed by what I have to 
 declare of his goodness, 1 shall be satisfied ; and 
 am content to leave all other possible conse- 
 quences of this undertaking in his hands who 
 does all things well. 
 
 I must again have recourse to my memory, as 
 I retained no copies of the letters you saw. So 
 far as I can recollect, what I then wrote I will 
 relate 5 but shall not affect a needless variety of 
 phrase and manner, merely because those have 
 been already perused by many. I may, perhaps, 
 in some places, when repeating the same facts, 
 express myself in nearly the same words ; yet I 
 propose, according to desire, to make this rela- 
 tion more explicit and particular than the former ; 
 especially towards the close, which I wound up 
 hastily, lest my friend should be wearied. I hope 
 you will likewise excuse me, if I do not strictly 
 confine myself to narration, but now and then 
 intersperse such reflections as may offer while I 
 am writing ; and though you have signified your 
 intentions of communicating what I send you to 
 others, I must not, on this account, affect a con- 
 ciseness and correctness, which is not my natural 
 talent, lest the whole should appear dry and con- 
 strained. I shall, therefore, if possible, think only 
 of you, and write with that confidence and free- 
 dom which your friendship and candor deserve. 
 
 Newtou. 2 
 
LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 This sheet may stand as a preface ; and I pur- 
 pose, as far as I can, to intermit many other en- 
 gagements, until I have completed the task you 
 have assigned me. In the meantime I entreat the 
 assistance of your prayers, that in this, and all 
 my poor attempts, I may have a single eye to 
 His glory who was pleased to call me out of hor- 
 rid darkness into the marvellous light of his 
 Gospel. 
 
 LETTER II. 
 
 Early History to the Age of 17. — A. D. 1742. 
 
 I can sometimes feel a pleasure in repeating 
 the grateful acknowledgment of David, ff O Lord, 
 I am thy servant, the son of thine handmaid ; thou 
 hast loosed my bonds." The tender mercies of 
 God toward me were manifested in the first mo- 
 ment of my life. I was born, as it were, in his 
 house. My mother (as I have heard from many) 
 was a pious, experienced christian : she was a 
 dissenter, in communion with the late Dr. Jen- 
 nings. I was her only child ; and as she was of a 
 weak constitution, and a retired temper, almost her 
 
EARLY LIFE. 
 
 15 
 
 whole employment was the care of my education. 
 I have some faint remembrance of her care and 
 instructions. At a time when I could not be more 
 than three years of age, she herself taught me 
 English ; and with so much success, (as I had 
 something of a forward turn,) that when I was 
 four years old I could read with propriety in any 
 common book that offered. She stored my memo- 
 ry, which was then very retentive, with many 
 valuable pieces, chapters and portions of Scrip- 
 ture, catechisms, hymns and poems. My temper 
 at that time seemed quite suitable to her wishes ; 
 I had little inclination to the noisy sports of chil- 
 dren, and was best pleased when in her company, 
 and always as willing to learn as she was to teach 
 me. How far the best education may fall short 
 of reaching the heart, will strongly appear in the 
 sequel of my history : yet I think, for the encou- 
 ragement of pious parents to go on in the good 
 way of doing their part faithfully to form their 
 children's minds, I may properly propose myself 
 as an instance. Though in process of time I sin- 
 ned away all the advantages of these early im- 
 pressions, yet they were for a great while a re- 
 straint upon me ; they returned again and again, 
 and it was very long before I could wholly shake 
 them off* ; and when the Lord at length opened my 
 eyes I found a great benefit from the recollec- 
 tion of them. Further, my dear mother, besides 
 
16 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 the pains she took with me, often commended 
 me, with many prayers and tears to God ; and I 
 doubt not but I reap the fruits of these prayers 
 to this hour. 
 
 My mother observed my early progress with 
 peculiar pleasure, and intended, from the first, to 
 bring me up with a view to the ministry, if it 
 should please God to convert me by his grace, 
 and incline my heart to the work. In my sixth 
 year I began to learn Latin ; but before I had 
 time to know much about it, the intended plan 
 of my education was broken short. The Lord's 
 designs were far beyond the views of an earthly 
 parent : he was pleased to reserve me for unusual 
 proof of his patience, providence and grace ; and 
 therefore overruled the purpose of my friends, 
 by depriving me of this excellent parent when I 
 was something under seven years old. I was bom 
 the 24th of July, 1725, and she died the 11th of 
 that month, 1732. 
 
 My father was then at sea : (he was a com- 
 mander in the Mediterranean trade at that time :) 
 he came home the following year, and soon after 
 married again. Thus I passed into different hands. 
 I was well treated in all other respects ; but the 
 loss of my mother's instructions was not repair- 
 ed. I was now permitted to mingle with careless 
 and profane children, and soon began to learn 
 their ways. Soon after my father's marriage I was 
 
EARLY LIFE. 
 
 17 
 
 sent to a boarding-school in Essex, where the im- 
 prudent severity of the master almost broke my 
 spirit and relish for books. With him I forgot the 
 first principles and rules of arithmetic, which my 
 mother had taught me years before. I staid there 
 two years : in the last of the two, a new usher 
 coming, who observed and suited my temper, I 
 took to the Latin with great eagerness ; so that 
 before I was ten years old I reached and main- 
 tained the first post in the second class, which in 
 that school read Tully and Virgil. I believe I was 
 pushed forward too fast, and therefore, not being 
 grounded, I soon lost all I had learned ; (for I left 
 school in my tenth year ;) and when I long after- 
 ward undertook the Latin language from books, 
 I think I had little, if any, advantage from what I 
 had learned before. 
 
 My father's second marriage was from a family 
 in Essex ; and when I was eleven years old he 
 took me with him to sea. He was a man of re- 
 markable good sense, and great knowledge of the 
 world ; he took great care of my morals, but 
 could not supply my mother's part. Having been 
 educated himself in Spain, he always observed an 
 air of distance and severity in his carriage, which 
 overawed and discouraged my spirit. I was al- 
 ways in fear when before him, and therefore he 
 had the less influence. From that time to the 
 year 1742, 1 made several voyages ; but with con- 
 
18 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 siderable intervals between ; which were chiefly- 
 spent in the country, excepting a few months in 
 my fifteenth year, when I was placed upon a very 
 advantageous prospect at Alicant in Spain. But 
 my unsettled behavior, and impatience of re- 
 straint, rendered that design abortive.* 
 
 In this period my temper and conduct were 
 exceedingly various. At school, or soon after, I 
 had little concern about religion, and easily re- 
 ceived very ill impressions. But I was often dis- 
 turbed with convictions. I was fond of reading, 
 from a child. Among other books, Bennefs Chris- 
 tian Oratory often came in my way ; and though 
 I understood but little of it, the course of life 
 therein recommended appeared very desirable, 
 and I was inclined to attempt it. I began to pray, 
 to read the Scripture, and keep a sort of diary. I 
 was presently religious in my own eyes ; but, 
 alas! this seeming goodness had no solid founda- 
 tion, but passed away like a morning cloud, or the 
 early dew. I was soon weary, gradually gave it 
 up, and became worse than before. Instead of 
 prayer, I learned to curse and blaspheme, and 
 was exceedingly wicked when not under my pa- 
 
 * Mr. Newton elsewhere states that he went aboard his 
 father's ship the day he was eleven years old, and made five 
 voyages with him to the Mediterranean. His father left the 
 sea in 1742, and in 1748 went as Governor of York Fort, in 
 Hudson's Bay, where he died in the year 1750, 
 
EARLY LIFE. 
 
 19 
 
 rent's view. All this was before I was twelve 
 years old. About this time I had a dangerous fall 
 from a horse : I was thrown, I believe, within a few 
 inches of a hedge-row newly cut down. I got no 
 hurt ; but could not avoid taking notice' of a gra- 
 cious providence in my deliverance ; for had I fallen 
 upon the stakes, I had inevitably been killed. My 
 conscience suggested to me the dreadful conse- 
 quences, if, in such a state I had been summoned 
 to appear before God. I presently broke off from 
 my profane practices, and appeared quite altered. 
 But it was not long before I declined again. These 
 struggles between sin and conscience were often 
 repeated ; but the consequence was, that every 
 relapse sunk me into still greater depths of wick- 
 edness. I was once roused by the loss of an in- 
 timate companion. We had agreed to go on board 
 a man-of-war ; (I think it was on the Sabbath ;) 
 but I providentially came too late ; the boat was 
 overset, and he and several others were drowned. 
 I was invited to the funeral of my play-fellow, 
 and was exceedingly affected, to think that by a 
 delay of a few minutes (which had much dis- 
 pleased and angered me till I saw the event) my 
 life had been preserved. However, this likewise 
 was soon forgot. At another time, the perusal of 
 the Family Instructor put me upon a partial and 
 transient reformation. In brief, though I cannot 
 distinctly relate particulars, I think I took up and 
 
20 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 laid aside a religious profession three or four dif- 
 ferent times before I was sixteen years of age ; 
 but all this while my heart was insincere. I often 
 saw the necessity of religion as a means of escap- 
 ing hell; but I loved sin, and was unwilling to 
 forsake it. Instances of this, I can remember, 
 were frequent. In the midst of all my forms, I 
 was so strangely blind and stupid, that sometimes 
 when I have been determined upon things which I 
 knew were sinful, and contrary to my duty, I could 
 not go on quietly till I had first despatched my 
 ordinary task of prayer, in which I have grudged 
 every moment of my time ; and when this was 
 finished, my conscience was in some measure 
 pacified and I could rush into folly with little 
 remorse. 
 
 My last reform was the most remarkable, both 
 for degree and continuance. Of this period, at 
 least of some part of it, I may say in the apos- 
 tle's words, " After the straitest of our religion, 
 I lived a Pharisee." I did every thing that might 
 be expected from a person entirely ignorant of 
 God's righteousness, and desirous to establish 
 his own. I spent the greatest part of every day 
 in reading the Scriptures, meditation and prayer. 
 I fasted often ; I even abstained from all animal 
 food for three months ; I would hardly answer a 
 question for fear of speaking an idle word. I 
 seemed to bemoan my former miscarriages very 
 
EARLY LIFE. 
 
 21 
 
 earnestly, sometimes with tears. In short, I be- 
 came an ascetic, and endeavored, so far as my 
 situation would permit, to renounce society, that 
 I might avoid temptation. I continued in this se- 
 rious mood (I cannot give it a higher title) for 
 more than two years without any considerable 
 breaking off : but it was a poor religion ; it left 
 me, in many respects, under the power of sin ; 
 and, so far as it prevailed, only tended to make 
 me gloomy, stupid, unsociable and useless. 
 
 Such was the frame of my mind when I became 
 acquainted with a work of Lord Shaftesbury's. I 
 saw the second volume of his Characteristics in a 
 petty shop at Middleburg, in Holland. The title 
 allured me to buy it, and the style and manner 
 gave me great pleasure in reading, especially the 
 second piece, which his lordship, with great pro- 
 priety, has entitled A Rhapsody. Nothing could 
 be more suited to the romantic turn of my mind 
 than the address of this pompous declamation. 
 Of the design and tendency I was not aware: I 
 thought the author a most religious person, and 
 that I had only to follow him and be happy. Thus, 
 with fine words and fair speeches, my simple 
 heart was beguiled. This book was always in my 
 hand : I read it till I could very nearly repeat the 
 Rhapsody, word for word, from beginning to end. 
 No immediate effect followed ; but it operated 
 like a slow poison, and prepared the way f< r all 
 that followed. 
 
22 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 This letter brings my history down to Decem- 
 ber, 1742. I was then lately returned from a voy- 
 age ; and my father not intending me for the sea 
 again, was thinking how to settle me in the world : 
 but I had little life or spirit for business ; I knew 
 but little of men and things. I was fond of a vi- 
 sionary scheme of a contemplative life, a medley 
 of religion, philosophy and indolence j and was 
 quite averse to the thoughts of an industrious ap- 
 plication to business. At length a merchant in 
 Liverpool, an intimate friend of my father's, (to 
 whom, as the instrument of God's goodness, I 
 have since been chiefly indebted for all my earth- 
 ly comforts,) proposed to send me for some years 
 to Jamaica, and to charge himself with the care 
 of my future fortune. I consented to this; and 
 every thing was prepared for my voyage. I was 
 upon the point of setting out the following week. 
 In the meantime my father sent me on some bu- 
 siness to a place a few miles beyond Maidstone, 
 in Kent ; and this little journey, which was to 
 have been only for three or four days, occasioned 
 a sudden and remarkable turn, which roused me 
 from the habitual indolence I had contracted, and 
 gave rise to the series of uncommon dispensa- 
 tions of which you desire a more particular ac- 
 count. So true it is, that "the way of man is not 
 in himself ; it is not in man that walketh to di- 
 rect his steps." 
 
ACQUAINTANCE WITH MRS. NEWTON. 23 
 
 LETTER III. 
 
 Acquaintance with Mrs. Sewton, — Voyage to Venice. — Im- 
 pressed for a Man-of-War.— 1743 to 1745. 
 
 A few days before my intended journey into 
 Kent, I received an invitation to visit a family in 
 that country. They were distant relations, but 
 very intimate friends of my dear mother. She 
 died in their house ; but a coolness took place 
 upon my father's second marriage, and I had 
 heard nothing of them for many years. As my 
 road lay within half a mile of their house, I ob- 
 tained my father's leave to call on them. I was, 
 however, very indifferent about it, and some- 
 times thought of passing on : however, I went. 
 I was known at first sight, before I could tell my 
 name, and met with the kindest reception, as the 
 child of a dear deceased friend. My friends had 
 two daughters. The eldest (as I understood 
 some years afterward) had been often consider- 
 ed by her mother and mine as a future wife for 
 me from the time of her birth. I know, indeed, 
 that intimate friends frequently amuse them- 
 selves with such distant prospects for their chil- 
 
2* 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 dren, and that they miscarry much oftener than 
 succeed. I do not say that my mother predicted 
 what was to happen, yet there was something 
 remarkable in the manner of its taking place. 
 All intercourse between the families had been 
 long broken off; I was going into a foreign 
 country, and only called to pay a hasty visit ; 
 and this I should not have thought of, but for a 
 message received just at that crisis, for I had 
 not been invited at any time before. Thus the 
 circumstances were precarious in the highest 
 degree, and the event was as extraordinary. Al- 
 most at the first sight of this girl (for she was 
 then under fourteen) I was impressed with an 
 affection for her which never abated or lost its 
 influence a single moment in my heart from that 
 hour. In degree, it actually equalled all that the 
 -writers of romance have imagined ; in duration 
 it was unalterable. I soon lost all sense of reli- 
 gion, and became deaf to the remonstrances of 
 conscience and prudence; but my regard for her 
 was always the same ; and I may perhaps ven- 
 ture to say, that none of the scenes of misery 
 and wickedness I afterward experienced, ever 
 banished her a single hour together from my 
 waking thoughts, for the seven following years. 
 
 Give me leave, sir, to reflect a little upon this 
 unexpected incident, and to consider its influ- 
 ence upon my future life, and how far it was 
 
ACQUAINTANCE WITH MRS. NEWTON. 
 
 25 
 
 subservient to the views of Divine Providence 
 concerning me ; which seem to have been two- 
 fold ; that by being given up for a while to the 
 consequences of my own wilfulness, and after- 
 ward reclaimed by a high hand, my case, so far 
 as it should be known, might be both a warning 
 and an encouragement to others. 
 
 In the first place, hardly any thing less than 
 this violent and commanding passion would have 
 been sufficient to awaken me from the dull me- 
 lancholy habit I had contracted. I was almost a 
 misanthrope, notwithstanding I so much admired 
 the pictures of virtue and benevolence, as drawn 
 by Lord Shaftesbury ; but now my reluctance to 
 active life was overpowered at once, and I was 
 willing to be or to do any thing which might sub- 
 serve the accomplishment of my wishes at some 
 future time. 
 
 Farther, when I afterward made shipwreck of 
 faith, hope and conscience, my love to this per- 
 son was the only remaining principle which in 
 any degree supplied their place ; and the bare 
 possibility of seeing her again was the only pre- 
 sent and obvious means of restraining me from 
 the most horrid designs against myself and 
 others. 
 
 But then the ill effects it brought upon me 
 counterbalanced these advantages. The interval 
 usually styled the time of courtship, is indeed a 
 
 Newton. g 
 
26 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 pleasing part of life, where there is a mutual af- 
 fection, the consent of friends, a reasonable pros- 
 pect as to settlement, and the whole is conduct- 
 ed in a prudential manner, and in subordination 
 to the will and fear of God. When things are 
 thus situated, it is a blessing to be susceptive of 
 the tender passions. But when these concomi- 
 tants are wanting, what we call /ot'e, is the most 
 tormenting passion in itself, and the most de- 
 structive in its consequences that can be named. 
 And they were all wanting in my case. I durst 
 not mention it to her friends, or to my own, nor 
 indeed, for a considerable time, to herself, as I 
 could make no proposals : it remained as a dark 
 fire, locked up in my own breast, which gave me 
 constant uneasiness. By introducing an idola- 
 trous regard to a creature, it greatly weakened 
 my sense of religion, and made farther way for 
 the entrance of infidel principles ; and though it 
 i seemed to promise great things as an incentive 
 \^to diligence and activity in life, in reality it per- 
 formed nothing. I often formed mighty projects 
 in my mind of what 1 would willingly do or suf- 
 fer for the sake of her I loved ; yet while I could 
 have her company I was incapable of forcing 
 myself away to improve opportunities that offer- 
 ed. Still less could it do in regulating my con- 
 duct. It did not prevent me from engaging in a 
 long train of excess and riot, utterly unworthy 
 
ACQUAINTANCE WITH MRS. NEWTON. 27 
 
 the honorable pretensions I had formed. And 
 though, through the wonderful interposition of 
 Divine goodness, the maze of my follies was at 
 length unravelled, and my wishes crowned in 
 such a manner as overpaid my sufferings, yet I 
 am sure I would not go through the same series 
 of trouble again to possess all the treasures of 
 both the Indies. I have enlarged more than I in- 
 tended on this point, as perhaps these papers 
 may be useful to caution others against indulg- 
 ing an ungovernable passion, by my painful ex- 
 perience. How often may such headstrong vota- 
 ries be said u to sow the wind, and to reap the 
 whirlwind !" 
 
 My heart being now fixed and riveted to a par- 
 ticular object, I considered every thing I was 
 concerned with in a new light. I concluded it 
 would be absolutely impossible to live at such a 
 distance as Jamaica, for a term of four or five 
 years ; and therefore determined, at all events, 
 that I would not go. I could not bear either to 
 acquaint my father with the true reason, or to 
 invent a false one ; therefore, without taking any 
 notice to him why I did so, I stayed three weeks, 
 instead of three days, in Kent, till I thought (as 
 it proved) the opportunity would be lost, and the 
 ships sailed. I then returned to London. I had 
 highly displeased my father by this disobedience ; 
 but he was more easily reconciled than I could 
 
28 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 have expected. In a little time I sailed with a 
 friend of his to Venice. In this voyage I was 
 exposed to the company and ill-example of the 
 common sailors, among whom I ranked. Impor- 
 tunity and opportunity presenting every day, I 
 once more began to relax from the sobriety and 
 order which I had observed, in some degree, for 
 more than two years. I was sometimes pierced 
 with sharp convictions ; but though I made a few 
 faint efforts to stop, I at no time recovered from 
 this declension, as I had done from several be- 
 fore : I did not indeed, as yet, turn out profli- 
 gate: but I was making large strides toward a 
 total apostacy from God. The most remarkable 
 check and alarm I received (and, for what I 
 know, the last) was by a dream, which made a 
 very strong, though not abiding impression upon 
 my mind. 
 
 The consideration of whom I am writing to, 
 renders it needless for me either to enter upon a 
 discussion of the nature of dreams in general, 
 or to make an apology for recording my own. 
 Those who acknowledge Scripture will allow 
 that there have been monitory and supernatural 
 dreams, evident communications from heaven, 
 either directing or foretelling future events: and 
 those who are acquainted with the history and 
 experience of the people of God, are well assured 
 that such intimations have not been totally with- 
 
VOYAGE TO VENICE. 
 
 29 
 
 held in any period down to the present times. 
 Reason, far from contradicting this supposition, 
 strongly pleads for it, where the process of rea- 
 soning is rightly understood and carefully pur- 
 sued. So that a late eminent writer, who I pre- 
 sume is not generally charged with enthusiasm, 
 undertakes to prove that the phenomenon of 
 dreaming is inexplicable at least, if not absolute- 
 ly impossible, without taking in the agency and 
 intervention of spiritual beings, to us invisible. 
 For my own part, I can say, without scruple, 
 M The dream is certain, and the interpretation 
 thereof sure." I am sure I dreamed to the fol- 
 lowing effect ; and I cannot doubt, from what I 
 have seen since, that it had a direct and easy 
 application to my own circumstances, to the 
 dangers in which I was about to plunge myself, 
 and to the unmerited deliverance and mercy 
 which God would be pleased to afford me in the 
 time of my distress. 
 
 Though I have written out a relation of this 
 dream more than once for others, it has happen- 
 ed that I never reserved a copy ; but the prin- 
 cipal incidents are so deeply engraven on my 
 memory, that I believe I am not liable to any 
 considerable variation in repeating the account. 
 The scene presented to my imagination was the 
 harbor of Venice, where we had lately been. I 
 thought it was night, and my watch upon the 
 
 3* 
 
30 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 deck ; and that, as I was walking to and fro by 
 myself, a person came to me, (I do not remem- 
 ber from whence,) and brought me a ring, with 
 an express charge to keep it carefully : assuring 
 me, that while I preserved that ring I should be 
 • happy and successful ; but if I lost or parted 
 with it, I must expect nothing but trouble and 
 misery. I accepted the present and the terms 
 willingly, not in the least doubting my own care 
 to preserve it, and highly satisfied to have my 
 happiness in my own keeping. I was engaged in 
 these thoughts, when a second person came to 
 me, and observing the ring on my finger, took 
 occasion to ask me some questions concerning 
 it. I readily told him its virtues ; and his answer 
 expressed a surprise at my weakness, in expect- 
 ing such effects from a ring. I think he reason- 
 ed with me some time upon the impossibility of 
 the thing; and at length UTged me, in direct 
 terms, to throw it away. At first I was shocked 
 at the proposal ; but his insinuations prevailed. 
 I began to reason and doubt myself ; and at last 
 plucked it off my finger, and dropped it over the 
 ship's side into the water; which it had no sooner 
 touched, than I saw, the same instant, a terrible 
 fire burst out from a range of the mountains, (a 
 part of the Alps,) which appeared at some dis- 
 tance behind the city of Venice. I saw the hills 
 as distinct as if awake, and they were all in 
 
VOYAGE TO VENICE. 
 
 31 
 
 flames. I perceived, too late, my folly > and my 
 tempter, with an air of insult, informed me, that 
 all the mercy God had in reserve for me was 
 comprised in that ring which I had wilfully 
 thrown away. I understood that I must now go 
 with him to the burning mountains, and that all 
 the flames I saw were kindled upon my account. 
 I trembled, and was in a great agony ; so that it 
 was surprising I did not then awake: but my 
 dream continued ; and when I thought myself 
 upon the point of a constrained departure, and 
 stood, self-condemned, without plea or hope, 
 suddenly, either a third person, or the same who 
 brought the ring at first, came to me, (I am not 
 certain which,) and demanded the cause of my 
 grief. I told him the plain case, confessing that 
 I had ruined myself wilfully, and deserved no 
 pity. He blamed my rashness, and asked if I 
 should be wiser supposing I had my ring again 1 
 I could hardly answer to this ; for I thought it 
 was gone beyond recall. I believe, indeed, I had 
 not time to answer, before I saw this unexpected 
 friend go down under the water, just in the spot 
 where I had dropped it ; and he soon returned, 
 bringing the ring with him. The moment he 
 came on board the flames in the mountains were 
 extinguished, and my seducer left me. Then was 
 ff the prey taken from the hand of the mighty, 
 and the lawful captive delivered/' My fears 
 
32 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 were at an end, and with joy and gratitude I ap- 
 proached my kind deliverer to receive the ring 
 again; but he refused to return it, and spoke to 
 this effect : If you should be intrusted with this 
 ring again, you would very soon bring yourself 
 into the same distress: you are not able to keep 
 it j but I will preserve it for you, and, whenever 
 it is needful, will produce it in your behalf." 
 Upon this I awoke in a state of mind not easy to 
 be described : I could hardly eat, or sleep, or 
 transact my necessary business, for two or three 
 days. But the impression soon wore off, and in 
 a little time I totally forgot it ; and I think it 
 hardly occurred to my mind again till several 
 years afterward. It will appear, in the course of 
 these papers, that a time came when I found 
 myself in circumstances very nearly resembling 
 those suggested by this extraordinary dream, 
 when I stood helpless and hopeless upon the 
 brink of an awful eternity ; and I doubt not that, 
 had the eyes of my mind been then opened, I 
 should have seen my grand enemy, who had se- 
 duced me wilfully to renounce and cast away my 
 religious profession, and to involve myself in the 
 most complicated crimes, pleased with my ago- 
 nies, and waiting for a permission to seize and 
 bear away my soul to his place of torment. 1 
 should, perhaps, have seen likewise, that Jesus, 
 whom I had persecuted and defied, rebuking the 
 
VOYAGE TO VENICE. 
 
 33 
 
 adversary, challenging me for his own, as a brand 
 plucked out of the fire, and saying, " Deliver him 
 from going down to the pit : I have found a ran- 
 som." However, though I saw not these things, 
 I found the benefit : I obtained mercy. The Lord 
 answered for me in the day of my distress ; and 
 blessed be his name, he who restored the ring, 
 (or what was signified by it,) vouchsafes to keep 
 it. 0 what an unspeakable comfort is this, that 
 I am not in my own keeping ! — " The Lord is my 
 Shepherd." I have been enabled to trust my all 
 in his hands ; and I know in whom I have be- 
 lieved. Satan still desires to have me, that he 
 might sift me as wheat ; but my Savior has pray- 
 ed for me, that my faith may not fail. Here is 
 my security and power; a bulwark against which 
 the gates of hell cannot prevail. But for this, 
 many a time and often (if possible) I should have 
 ruined myself since my first deliverance ; nay, I 
 should fall, and stumble, and perish still, after all 
 that the Lord has done for me, if his faithfulness 
 were not engaged in my behalf, to be my sun 
 and shield even unto death. " Bless the Lord, 
 O my soul." 
 
 Nothing very remarkable occurred in the fol- 
 lowing part of that voyage. I returned home in 
 December, 1743, and soon after repeated my 
 visit to Kent, where I protracted my stay in the 
 same imprudent manner I had done before ; 
 
34 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 which again disappointed my father's designs in 
 my favor, and almost provoked him to disown 
 me. Before any thing suitable offered again, I 
 was impressed, (owing entirely to my own 
 thoughtless conduct, which was all of a piece,) 
 and put on board a tender : it was at a critical 
 iuncture, when the French fleets were hovering 
 upon our coast, so that my father was unable to 
 procure my release. In a few days I was sent on 
 board the Harwich man-of-war, at the Nore : I 
 entered here upon quite a new scene of life, and 
 endured much hardship for about a month. My 
 father was then willing that I should remain in 
 the navy, as a war was daily expected, and pro- 
 cured me a recommendation to the captain, who 
 took me upon the quarter-deck as a midshipman. 
 I had now an easy life as to externals, and might 
 have gained respect ; but my mind was unsettled, 
 and my behavior very indifferent. I here met 
 with companions who completed the ruin of my 
 principles j and though I affected to talk of vir- 
 tue, and was not so outwardly abandoned as 
 afterward, yet my delight and habitual practice 
 was wickedness. My chief intimate was a per- 
 son of exceeding good natural talents and much 
 observation ; he was the greatest master of what 
 is called the free-thinking scheme I remember to 
 have met with, and knew how to insinuate his 
 sentiments in the most plausible way. And his 
 
IMPRESSED FOR A MAN-OF-WAR. 
 
 35 
 
 zeal was equal to his address : he could hardly 
 have labored more in the cause if he had expect- 
 ed to gain heaven by it. Allow me to add, while 
 I think of it, that this man, whom I honored as 
 my master, and whose practice I adopted so 
 eagerly, perished in the same way as I expected 
 to have done. I have been told that he was over- 
 taken in a voyage from Lisbon by a violent 
 storm j the vessel and people escaped, but a 
 great sea broke on board and swept him into 
 eternity. Thus the Lord spares or punishes, ac- 
 cording to his sovereign pleasure ! But to re- 
 turn : I was fond of his company ; and having 
 myself a smattering of books, was eager enough 
 to show my reading. He soon perceived my 
 case, that I had not wholly broken through the 
 restraints of conscience, and therefore did not 
 shock me at first with too broad intimations of 
 his design ; he rather, as I thought, spoke favor- 
 ably of religion ; but when he had gained my 
 confidence he began to speak plainer j and per- 
 ceiving my ignorant attachment to the character- 
 istics, he joined issue with me upon that book, 
 and convinced me that I had never understood 
 it. In a word, he so plied me with objections 
 and arguments that my depraved heart was soon 
 gained, and I entered into his plan with all my 
 spirit. Thus, like an unwary sailor, who quits 
 his port just before a rising storm, I renounced 
 
36 
 
 LIKE OF REV. JOHN KEWTOK. 
 
 the hopes and comforts of the Gospel at the very 
 time when every other comfort was about to 
 fail me. 
 
 In December, 1744, the Harwich was in the 
 Downs, bound to the East Indies. The captain 
 gave me liberty to go on shore for a day ; but 
 without consulting prudence, or regarding con- 
 sequences, I took horse, and following the dic- 
 tates of my restless passion, I went to take a last 
 leave of her I loved. I had little satisfaction in 
 the interview, as I was sensible that I was taking 
 pains to multiply my own troubles. The short 
 time I could stay passed like a dream ; and on 
 New-Year's day, 1745, I took my leave to return 
 to the ship. The captain was prevailed on to ex- 
 cuse my absence ; but this rash step (especially 
 as it was not the first liberty of the kind I had 
 taken) highly displeased him, and lost me his 
 favor, which I never recovered. 
 
 At length we sailed from Spithead with a very 
 large fleet. We put into Torbay with a change 
 of wind j but it returning fair again, we sailed 
 the next day. Several of our fleet were lost in 
 attempting to leave that place ; but the following 
 night the whole fleet was greatly endangered 
 upon the coast of Cornwall by a storm from the 
 southward. The darkness of the night, and the 
 number of the vessels, occasioned much confu- 
 sion and damage. Our ship, though several 
 
PUNISHED FOR DESERTION. 
 
 37 
 
 times in imminent danger of being run down by 
 other vessels, escaped unhurt ; but many suffered 
 much, particularly the Admiral. This occasioned 
 our putting back to Plymouth. 
 
 While we lay at Plymouth I heard that my 
 father, who had interest in some of the ships 
 lately lost, was come down to Torbay. He had 
 a connection at that time with the African Com- 
 pany. I thought if I could get to him, he might 
 easily introduce me into that service, which 
 would be better than pursuing a long, uncertain 
 voyage to the East Indies. It was a maxim with 
 me in those unhappy days, never to deliberate : 
 i the thought hardly occurred to me but I was re- 
 solved to leave the ship at all events ; I did so, 
 : and in the wrongest manner possible. I was sent 
 i one day in the boat to take care that none of the 
 people deserted 5 but I betrayed my trust, and 
 | went off myself. I knew not what road to take, 
 and durst not ask for fear of being suspected ; 
 I yet having some general idea of the country, I 
 i guessed right ; and when I had travelled some 
 j miles, I found, upon inquiry, that I was on the 
 I road to Dartmouth. All went smoothly that day, 
 f and part of the next ; I walked apace, and ex- 
 i pected to have been with my father in about two 
 •j hours, when I was met by a small party of sol- 
 i diers. I could not avoid or deceive them. They 
 i brought me back to Plymouth ; I walked through 
 
 Newton. 4, 
 
38 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 the streets guarded like a felon. My heart was 
 full of indignation, shame and fear. I was con- 
 fined two days in the guard-house, then sent on 
 board my ship, kept a while in irons, then pub- 
 licly stripped and whipped; after which I was 
 degraded from my office, and all my former com- 
 panions forbidden to show me the least favor, or 
 even to speak to me. As midshipman, I had been 
 entitled to some command, which (being suffi- 
 ciently haughty and vain) I had not been back 
 ward to exert. I was now, in my turn, brought 
 down to a level with the lowest, and exposed to 
 the insults of all. 
 
 And, as my present situation was uncomfort- 
 able, my future prospects were still worse ; the 
 evils I suffered were likely to grow heavier every 
 day. While my catastrophe was recent, the offi- 
 cers and my quondam brethren were something 
 disposed to screen me from ill -usage j but dur- 
 ing the little time I remained with them after- 
 ward, I found them cool very fast in their endea- 
 vors to protect me. Indeed, they could not avoid 
 it without running a great risk of sharing with 
 me ; for the captain, though in general a humane 
 man, who behaved very well to the ship's com- 
 pany, was almost implacable in his resentment 
 when he had been greatly offended, and took 
 several occasions to show himself so to me ; and 
 the voyage was expected to be (as it proved) 
 
PUNISHED FOR DESERTION. 
 
 39 
 
 for five years. Yet I think nothing I either felt 
 or feared distressed me so much as to see myself 
 thus forcibly torn away from the object of my 
 affections under a great improbability of seeing 
 her again, and a much greater of returning in 
 such a manner as would give me hopes of seeing 
 her mine. Thus I was as miserable on all hands 
 as could well be imagined. My breast was filled 
 Avith the most excruciating passions, eager desire, 
 bitter rage and black despair. Every hour ex- 
 posed me to some new insult and hardship, with 
 no hope of relief or mitigation ; no friend to take 
 my part, or to listen to my complaint. Whether 
 I looked inward or outward, I could perceive 
 nothing but darkness and misery. I think no 
 case, except that of a conscience wounded by 
 the wrath of God, could be more dreadful than 
 mine : I cannot express with what wishfulness 
 and regret I cast my last looks upon the English 
 shore : I kept my eyes fixed upon it till, the 
 ship's distance increasing, it insensibly disap- 
 peared ; and when I could see it no longer I was 
 tempted to throw myself into the sea, which (ac- 
 cording to the wicked system I had adopted) 
 would put a period to all my sorrows at once. 
 But the secret hand of God restrained me. 
 Help me to praise him, dear sir, for his won- 
 derful goodness to the most unworthy of all his 
 creatures. 
 
40 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 LETTER IV. 
 
 Voyages to Madeira and Africa. 
 
 Though I desired your instructions as to the 
 manner and extent of these memoirs, I began to 
 write before I received them, and had almost 
 finished the preceding sheet when your favor of 
 the 11th came to hand. I shall find another oc- 
 casion to acknowledge my sense of your kind 
 expressions of friendship, which I pray the Lord 
 I may never give you cause to repent of or with- 
 draw; at present I shall confine myself to what 
 more particularly relates to the task assigned 
 me. I shall obey you, sir, in taking notice of the 
 little incidents you recall to my memory, and of 
 others of the like nature, which, without your 
 direction, I should have thought too trivial, and 
 too much my own to deserve mentioning. When 
 I began the eight letters I intended to say no 
 more of myself than might be necessary to illus- 
 trate the wonders of Divine providence and grace 
 in the leading turns of my life ; but I account 
 your judgment a sufficient warrant for enlarging 
 my plan. 
 
 Amongst other things, you desired a more ex- 
 
VOYAGE TO MADEIRA. 
 
 41 
 
 plicit account of the state and progress of my 
 courtship, as it is usually phrased. This was 
 the point in which I thought it especially became 
 me to be very brief ; but I submit to you ; and 
 this seems a proper place to resume it, by telling 
 you how it stood at the time of my leaving Eng- 
 land. When my inclinations first discovered 
 themselves, both parties were so young that no 
 one but myself considered it in a serious view. 
 It served for tea-table talk amongst our friends ; 
 and nothing farther was expected from it. But 
 afterward, when my passion seemed to have abid- 
 ing effects, so that in an interval of two years it 
 was not at all abated ; and especially as it occa- 
 sioned me to act without any regard to prudence 
 or interest, or my father's designs ; and as there 
 was a coolness between him and the family, her 
 parents began to consider it as a matter of con- 
 sequence ; and when I took my last leave of them, 
 her mother, at the same time that she expressed 
 the most tender affection for me, as if I had been 
 her own child, told me, that, though she had no 
 objections to make, upon a supposition that at a 
 maturer age there should be a probability of our 
 engaging upon a prudent prospect, yet as things 
 then stood, she thought herself obliged to inter- 
 fere ; and therefore desired I would no more 
 think of returning to their house, unless her 
 daughter was from home, till such time as I could 
 
42 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 either prevail with myself entirely to give up my 
 pretensions, or could assure her that I had my 
 father's express consent to continue them. Much 
 
 depended on Mrs. N 's part in this affair ; it 
 
 was something difficult ; but though she was 
 young, gay, and quite unpractised in such mat- 
 ters, she was directed to a happy medium. A 
 positive encouragement, or an absolute refusal, 
 would have been attended with equal, though dif- 
 ferent disadvantages. But without much study- 
 ing about it, I found her always upon her guard : 
 she had penetration to see her absolute power 
 over me, and prudence to make a proper use of 
 it ; she would neither understand my hints, nor 
 give me room to come to a direct explanation. 
 She has said since, that, from the first discovery 
 of my regard, and long before the thought was 
 agreeable to her, she had often an unaccountable 
 impression upon her mind, that sooner or later 
 she should be mine. Upon these terms we parted. 
 
 I now return to my voyage. During our pas- 
 sage to Madeira I was a prey to the most gloo- 
 my thoughts. Though I had well deserved all 
 I met with, and the captain might have been 
 justified if he had carried his resentment still far- 
 ther ; yet my pride at that time suggested that I 
 had been grossly injured: and this so far wrought 
 upon my wicked heart, that I actually formed 
 designs against his life j and this was one reaso 
 
VOYAGE TO MADEIRA. 
 
 43 
 
 that made me willing to prolong my own. I was 
 sometimes divided between the two, not thinking 
 it practicable to effect both. The Lord had now, 
 to appearance, given me up to judicial hardness ; 
 I was capable of any thing. I had not the least 
 fear of God before my eyes, nor (so far as I re- 
 member) the least sensibility of conscience. I 
 was possessed of so strong a spirit of delusion, 
 that I believed my own lie, and was firmly per- 
 suaded that after death I should cease to be. Yet 
 the Lord preserved me ! Some intervals of sober 
 reflection would at times take place : when I 
 have chosen death rather than life, a ray of hope 
 would come in (though there was little probabi- 
 lity for such a hope) that I should yet see better 
 days ; that I might again return to England, and 
 have my wishes crowned, if I did not wilfully 
 throw myself away. In a word, my love to Mrs. 
 
 N was now the only restraint I had left. 
 
 Though I neither feared God nor regarded men, 
 I could not bear that she should think meanly of 
 me when I was dead. As, in the outward con- 
 cerns of life, the weakest means are often em- 
 ployed by Divine Providence to produce great 
 effects, beyond their common influence, (as when 
 a disease, for instance, has been removed by a 
 fright,) so I found it then ; this single thought, 
 which had not restrained me' from a thousand 
 smaller evils, proved my only and effectual bar 
 
44? LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 rier against the greatest and most fatal tempta 
 tions. How long I could have supported this 
 conflict, or what, humanly speaking, would have 
 been the consequences of my continuing in that 
 situation, I cannot say ; but the Lord, whom I 
 little thought of, knew my danger, and was pro- 
 viding for my deliverance. 
 
 Two things I had determined when at Ply- 
 mouth ; that I would not go to India, and that I 
 would go to Guinea ; and such, indeed, was the 
 Lord's will concerning me ; but they were to be 
 accomplished in his way, and not in my own. 
 We had been now at Madeira some time: the 
 business of the fleet was completed, and we were 
 to sail the following day. On that memorable 
 morning I was late in bed, and had slept longer, 
 but that one of the midshipmen (an old compa- 
 nion) came down, and, between jest and earnest, 
 bade me rise ; and as I did not immediately com 
 ply, he cut down the hammock, or bed, in which 
 I lay ; which forced me to dress myself. I was 
 very angry, but durst not resent it. I was little 
 aware how much his caprice affected me ; and 
 that this person, who had no design in what he 
 did, was the messenger of God's providence. I 
 said little, but went upon deck, where I that mo- 
 ment saw a man putting his clothes into a boat, 
 who told me he was going to leave us. Upon 
 inquiring, I was informed that two men, from a 
 
VOYAGE TO AFRICA. 
 
 45 
 
 Guinea ship which lay near us, had entered on 
 board the Harwich, and that the commodore (Sir 
 George Pocock) had ordered the captain to send 
 two others in their room. My heart instantly 
 burned like fire. I begged the boat might be de- 
 tained a few minutes : I ran to the lieutenants, 
 and entreated them to intercede with the captain 
 that I might be dismissed. Upon this occasion, 
 though I had been formerly upon ill terms with 
 these officers, and had disobliged them all in 
 their turns, they pitied my case, and appeared 
 ready to serve me. The captain, who, when we 
 were at Plymouth, had refused to exchange me, 
 though at the request of Admiral Medly, was now 
 easily prevailed on. I believe, in little more than 
 half an hour from my being asleep in my bed I 
 saw myself discharged, and safe on board another 
 ship. This was one of the many critical turns of 
 my life, in which the Lord was pleased to dis- 
 play his providence and care, by causing many 
 unexpected circumstances to concur in almost 
 an instant of time. These sudden opportunities 
 were several times repeated; each of them 
 brought me into an entire new scene of action, 
 and they were usually delayed to almost the last 
 moment in which they could have taken place. 
 
 The ship I went on board was bound to Sierra 
 Leone, and the adjacent parts of what is called 
 the Windward Coast of Africa, The commander, 
 
46 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 I found, was acquainted with my father : he re- 
 ceived me very kindly, and made fair professions 
 of assistance, and I believe would have been my 
 friend ; but without making the least advantage 
 of former mistakes and troubles, I pursued the 
 same course ; nay, if possible, I acted much 
 worse. On board the Harwich, though my prin- 
 ciples were totally corrupted, yet, as upon my 
 first going there I was in some degree staid 
 and serious, the remembrance of this made me 
 ashamed of breaking out in that notorious man- 
 ner I could otherwise have indulged. But now, 
 entering amongst strangers, I could appear with- 
 out disguise ; and I well remember, that, while I 
 was passing from the one ship to the other, this 
 was one reason why I rejoiced in the exchange, 
 and one reflection I made upon the occasion, 
 namely, M that I now might be as abandoned as I 
 pleased, without any control;" and from this time 
 
 1 was exceedingly vile indeed, little, if any thing, 
 short of that animated description of an almost 
 irrecoverable state, which we have in 2 Peter, 
 
 2 : 14. I not only sinned with a high hand my 
 self, but made it my study to tempt and seduce 
 others upon every occasion ; nay, I eagerly sough, 
 occasion, sometimes to my own hazard and hurt 
 One natural consequence of this carriage was, a 
 loss of the favor of my new captain ; not that he 
 was at all religious, or disliked my wickedness 
 
VOYAGE TO AFRICA. 
 
 47 
 
 any further than it affected his interest, but I be- 
 came careless and disobedient : I did not please 
 him, because I did not intend it ; and as he was 
 a man of an odd temper likewise, we the more 
 easily disagreed. Besides, I had a little of that 
 unlucky wit, which can do little more than mul- 
 tiply troubles and enemies to its possessor ; and, 
 upon some imagined affront I made a song, in 
 which I ridiculed his ship, his designs, and his 
 person, and soon taught it to the whole ship r s 
 company. Such was the ungrateful return I made 
 for his offers of friendship and protection. I had 
 mentioned no names ; but the allusion was plain ; 
 and he was no stranger either to the intention or 
 the author. I shall say no more of this part of 
 my story ; let it be buried in eternal silence. But 
 let me not be silent from the praise of that grace 
 which could pardon, that blood which could ex- 
 piate such sins as mine. Yea, " the Ethiopian 
 may change his skin, and the leopard his spots," 
 since I, who was the willing slave of every evil, 
 possessed with a legion of unclean spirits, have 
 been spared, and saved, and changed, to stand as 
 a monument of his almighty power for ever. 
 
 Thus I went on for about six months, by which 
 time the ship was preparing to leave the coast. 
 A few days before she sailed the captain died. I 
 was not upon much better terms with his mate, 
 who now succeeded to the command, and had, 
 
48 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 upon some occasion, treated me ill. I made no 
 doubt but if I went with him to the West Indies 
 he would put me on board a man-of-war ; and this, 
 from what I had known already, was more dread- 
 ful to me than death. To avoid it, I determined 
 to remain in Africa ; and amused myself with 
 many golden dreams, that here I should find an 
 opportunity of improving my fortune. 
 
 There are still upon that part of the coast a 
 few white men settled, (and there were many 
 more at the time I was first there,) whose busi- 
 ness it was to purchase slaves, &c. in the rivers 
 and country adjacent, and sell them to the ships 
 at an advanced price. One of these, who at first 
 landed, like myself, in indigent circumstances, 
 had acquired considerable wealth : he had lately 
 been in England, and was returning in the vessel 
 I was in, of which he owned a quarter part. His 
 example impressed me with hopes of the same 
 success ; and, upon condition of entering into his 
 service, I obtained my discharge. I had not the 
 precaution to make any terms, but trusted to his 
 generosity. I received no compensation for my 
 time on board the ship but a bill upon the own- 
 ers in England, which was never paid, for they 
 failed before my return. The day the vessel sail- 
 ed I landed upon the island of Benanoes, with lit- 
 tle more than the clothes upon my back, as if 1 
 had escaped shipwreck. 
 
SUFFERINGS IN AFRICA. 
 
 49 
 
 LETTER V. 
 
 Sickness and Sufferings in Africa. 
 
 There seems an important instruction, and of 
 frequent use, in these words of our dear Lord, 
 " Mine hour is not yet come." The two follow- 
 ing years, of which I am now to give some ac- 
 count, will seem as an absolute blank in a very 
 short life : but as the Lord's hour of grace was 
 not yet come, I was to have still deeper expe- 
 rience of the dreadful state of the heart of man 
 when left to itself. I have seen frequent cause 
 since to admire the mercy of the Lord, in banish- 
 ing me to those distant parts, and almost exclud- 
 ing me from human society, at a time when I was 
 big with mischief, and, like one infected with a 
 pestilence, was capable of spreading a taint 
 wherever I went. Had my affairs taken a different 
 turn, had I succeeded in my designs, and remain- 
 ed in England, my sad story would probably have 
 been worse. Worse in myself, indeed, I could 
 hardly have been ; but my wickedness would 
 have had a greater scope ; I might have been 
 very hurtful toothers, and multiplied irreparable 
 evils. But the Lord wisely placed me where I 
 could do little harm. The few I had to converse 
 
 Newton. 5 
 
50 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 with were too much like myself, and I was soon 
 brought into such abject circumstances that I was 
 too low to have any influence. I was rather shun- 
 ned and despised than imitated ; there being few, 
 even of the negroes themselves, (during the first 
 year of my residence among them,) but thought 
 themselves too good to speak to me. I was as 
 yet an " outcast lying in my blood," Ezek. 16 : 6, 
 and, to all appearance, exposed to perish. But the 
 Lord beheld me with mercy. He did not strike 
 me to hell, as I justly deserved ; " he passed by 
 me when I was in my blood, and said unto me, 
 Live." But the appointed time for the manifesta- 
 tion of his love, to cover all my iniquities with the 
 robe of his righteousness, and to admit me to the 
 privileges of his children, was not till long after- 
 ward ; yet even now he bade me live ; and I can 
 only ascribe it to his secret upholding power, that 
 what I suffered in a part of this interval did not 
 bereave me either of my life or senses : yet, as 
 by these sufferings the force of my evil example 
 and inclination was lessened, I have reason to 
 account them amongst my mercies. 
 
 It may not, perhaps, be amiss to digress for a 
 few lines, and give you a very brief sketch of the 
 geography of the circuit I was now confined to, 
 especially as I may have frequent^casion to re- 
 fer to places I shall now mention ; for my trade 
 afterward, when the Lord gave me to see better 
 
SUFFERINGS IN AFRICA. 
 
 51 
 
 days, was chiefly to the same places, and with the 
 same persons, where and by whom I had been 
 considered as upon a level with their meanest 
 slaves. From Cape de Verd, the most western 
 point of Africa, to Cape Mount, the whole coast 
 is full of rivers ; the principal are, Gambia, Rio 
 Grande, Sierra Leone, and Sherbro. Of the form- 
 er, as it is well known, and I was never there, I 
 need say nothing. The Rio Grande (like the Nile) 
 divides into many branches near the sea. On the 
 most northerly, called Cackeo, the Portuguese 
 have a settlement. The most southern branch, 
 known by the name of Rio Nuna, is, or then was, 
 I the usual 'boundary of the white men's trade 
 ' northward. Sierra Leone is a mountainous penin- 
 sula, uninhabited, and, I believe, inaccessible, up- 
 t on account of the thick woods, excepting those 
 parts which lie near the water. The river is 
 large and navigable. From hence, about twelve 
 leagues to the south-east, are three contiguous 
 i islands, called the Benanoes, about twenty miles 
 I in circuit ; this was about the centre of the white 
 men's residence. Seven leagues farther, the same 
 way, lie the Plantanes, three small islands, two 
 miles distant from the continent at the point, 
 which forms one side of the Sherbro. This river 
 is more properly a sound, running within a long 
 island, and receiving the confluence of several 
 large rivers, " rivers unknown to song" but far 
 
52 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 more deeply engraven in my remembrance than 
 the Po or Tyber. The southernmost of these has 
 a very peculiar course, almost parallel to the 
 coast ; so that in tracing it a great many leagues 
 upward, it will seldom lead one above three miles, 
 and sometimes not more than half a mile from 
 the sea-shore. Indeed, I know not but that all 
 these rivers may have communications with each 
 other, and with the sea in many places, which I 
 have not remarked. If you cast your eyes upon 
 a large map of Africa while you are reading this, 
 you will have a general idea of the country I was 
 in : for though the maps are very incorrect, most 
 of the places I have mentioned are inserted, and 
 in the same order as I have named them. 
 
 My new master had formerly resided near 
 Cape Mount, but now he settled at the Plantanes, 
 upon the largest of the three islands. It is a low 
 sandy island, about two miles in circumference, 
 and almost covered with palm-trees. We imme- 
 diately began to build a house, and to enter upon 
 trade. I had now some desire to retrieve my 
 lost time, and to exert diligence in what was be- 
 fore me ; and he was a man with whom I might 
 have lived tolerably well, if he had not been soon 
 influenced against me: but he was much under 
 the direction of a black woman who lived with 
 him as a wife. She was a person of some conse- 
 quence in her own country, and he owed his first 
 
SUFFERINGS IN AFRICA. 53- 
 
 rise to her interest. This woman (I know not for 
 what reason) was strangely prejudiced against 
 me from the first ; and what made it still worse 
 forme, was a severe fit of illness, which attacked 
 me very soon, before I had opportunity to show 
 what I could or would do in his service. I was 
 sick when he sailed in a shallop to Rio Nuna, and 
 he left me in her hands. At first I was taken 
 some care of ; but a^ I did not recover very soon, 
 she grew weary, and entirely neglected me. I 
 had sometimes not a little difficulty to procure a 
 draught of cold water when burning with a fever. 
 My bed was a mat spread upon a board or chest, 
 and a log of wood my pillow. When my fever 
 left me, and appetite returned, I would gladly 
 have eaten, but there was no one gave unto 
 me. She lived in plenty herself, but hardly a) 
 lowed me sufficient to sustain life, except now 
 and then, when in the highest good humor, she 
 would send me victuals in her own plate after 
 she had dined ; and this (so greatly was my pride 
 humbled) I received with thanks and eagerness, 
 as the most needy beggar does an alms. Once, 
 I well remember, I was called to receive this 
 bounty from her own hand ; but being exceeding 
 weak and feeble, I dropped the plate. Those who 
 live in plenty can hardly conceive how this loss 
 touched me ; but she had the cruelty to laugh at 
 my disappointment ; and, though the table was 
 5* 
 
54 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 covered with dishes, (for she lived much in the 
 European manner,) she refused to give me any 
 more. My distress has been at times so great 
 as to compel me to go by night and pull up roots 
 in the plantation, (though at the risk of being 
 punished as a thief,) which I have eaten raw upon 
 the spot for fear of discovery. The roots I speak 
 of are very wholesome food when boiled or roast- 
 ed ; but as unfit to be eaten raw, in any quantity, 
 as a potatoe. The consequence of this diet, 
 which, after the first experiment, I always ex- 
 pected, and seldom missed, was the same as if I 
 had taken tartar emetic; so that I have often re- 
 turned as empty as I went ; yet necessity urged 
 me to repeat the trial several times. I have 
 sometimes been relieved by strangers j nay, even 
 by the slaves in the chain, who have secretly 
 brought me victuals (for they durst not be seen 
 to do it) from their own slender pittance. Next 
 to pressing want, nothing sits harder upon the 
 mind than scorn and contempt; and of this, like- 
 wise, I had an abundant measure. When I was 
 very slowly recovering, this woman would some- 
 times pay me a visit, not to pity or relieve, but 
 to insult me. She would call me worthless and 
 indolent, and compel me to walk ; which, when J 
 could hardly do, she would set her attendants 
 to mimic my motion, to clap their hands, laugh, 
 and throw limes at me ; or, if they chose, to 
 
SUFFERINGS IN AFRICA. 
 
 55 
 
 throw stones ; (as I think was the case once or 
 twice ;) they were not rebuked ; but, in general, 
 though all who depended on her favor must join 
 in her treatment, yet, when she was out of sight 
 I was rather pitied than scorned by the meanest 
 of her slaves. At length my master returned 
 from his voyage. I complained of ill-usage ; but 
 he could not believe me ; and as I did it in her 
 hearing, I fared no better for it. But in his second 
 voyage he took me with him. We did pretty 
 well for awhile, till a brother-trader he met in 
 the river persuaded him that I was unfaithful, 
 and stole his goods in the night, or when he was 
 on shore. This was almost the only vice I could 
 not be justly charged with : the only remains of 
 a good education I could boast of was what is 
 commonly called honesty ; and, as far as he had 
 entrusted me, I had been always faithful ; and 
 though my great distress might, in some mea- 
 sure, have excused me, I never once thought of 
 defrauding him in the smallest matter. However, 
 the charge was believed, and I was condemned 
 without evidence. From that time he likewise 
 used me very hardly: whenever he left the ves- 
 sel I was locked upon deck, with a pint of rice 
 for my day's allowance ; and if he staid longer, 
 I had no relief till his return. Indeed, I believe I 
 should have been nearly starved, but for an op- 
 portunity of catching n>h sometimes. When 
 
56 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 fowls were killed for his own use I seldom was 
 allowed any part but the entrails, to bait my 
 hooks with : and at what we call slack water , that 
 is, about the changing of the tides, when the cur- 
 rent was still, I used generally to fish, (for at 
 other times it was not practicable,) and I very 
 often succeeded. If I saw a fish upon my hook, 
 m y j°y was little less than any other person 
 may have found in the accomplishment of the 
 scheme he had most at heart. Such a fish, 
 hastily broiled, or rather half burnt, without 
 sauce, salt or bread, has afforded me a delicious 
 meal. If I caught none, I might (if I could) sleep 
 away my hunger till the next return of slack 
 water, and then try again. Nor did I suffer less 
 from the inclemency of the weather and the want 
 of clothes. The rainy season was now advanc- 
 ing ; my whole suit was a shirt, a pair of trow- 
 sers, a cotton handkerchief instead of a cap, and 
 a cotton cloth about two yards long, to supply 
 the want of upper garments ; and thus accoutred, 
 I have been exposed for twenty, thirty, perhaps 
 nearly forty hours together, in incessant rains, 
 accompanied with strong gales of wind, without 
 the least shelter, when my master was on shore 
 I feel, to this day, some faint returns of the vio»- 
 lent pains I then contracted. The excessive cold 
 and wet I endured in that voyage, and so soon 
 after I had recovered from a long sickness, quite 
 
SUFFERINGS IN AFRICA. 
 
 •57 
 
 brokt my constitution and my spirits. The lat- 
 ter were soon restored j but the effects of the 
 former still remain with me as a needful memento 
 of the service and wages of sin. 
 
 In about two months we returned, and then 
 the rest of the time I remained with him was 
 chiefly spent at the Plantanes, under the same re- 
 jgimen as I have already mentioned. My haughty 
 heart was now brought down ; not to a whole- 
 some repentance, nor to the language of the pro- 
 digal : this was far from me ; but my spirits were 
 sunk ; I lost all resolution, and almost all reflec- 
 tion. I had lost the fierceness which fired me on 
 board the Harwich, and which made me capable 
 of the most desperate attempts; but I was no 
 farther changed than a tiger tamed by hunger ; 
 remove the occasion, and he will be as wild 
 as ever. 
 
 One thing, though strange, is most true. 
 Though destitute of food and clothing, depress- 
 ed to a degree beyond common wretchedness, 
 I could sometimes collect my mind to mathe 
 matical studies. I had bought Barrow's Euclid 
 at Plymouth ; it was the only volume I brought 
 on shore ; it was always with me, and I used to 
 take it to remote corners of the island, by the 
 sea-side, and drew my diagrams with a long 
 stick upon the sand. Thus I often beguiled my 
 sorrows, and almost forgot my feelings: and thus, 
 
58 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 without any other assistance, I made myself, in 
 a good measure, master of the first six books 
 of Euclid. 
 
 LETTER VI. 
 
 Continuance in Africa. — Is sent for by his Father, and em- 
 barks for England, 1747. 
 
 There is much piety and spirit in the grateful 
 acknowledgment of Jacob, " With my staff I 
 passed over this Jordan, and now I am become 
 two bands." These are words which ought to 
 affect me with a peculiar emotion. I remember 
 that some of those mournful days to which my 
 last letter refers, I was busied in planting some 
 lime or lemon-trees. The plants I put in the 
 ground were no longer than a young goose- 
 berry-bush ; my master and his mistress passing 
 by the place, stopped a while to look at me : at 
 last, " Who knows," says he, " who knows, bu^ 
 by the time these trees grow up and bear, yov 
 may go home to England, obtain the command 
 of a ship, and return to reap the fruits of your 
 labors \ We see strange things sometimes hap- 
 
CONTINUANCE IN AFRICA. 
 
 59 
 
 pen." This, as he intended it, was a cutting sar- 
 casm. I believe he thought it full as probable 
 that I should live to be king of Poland. Yet it 
 proved a prediction, and they (one of them at 
 least) lived to see me return from England in 
 the capacity he had mentioned, and pluck some 
 of the first limes from those very trees. How 
 can I proceed in my relation, till I raise a mo- 
 nument to the Divine goodness, by comparing 
 the circumstances in which the Lord has since 
 placed me with what I was at that time ! Had 
 you seen me, sir, then go, pensive and solitary, 
 in the dead of night, to wash my one shirt upon 
 the rocks, and afterward put it on wet, that it 
 might dry upon my back while I slept ; had you 
 seen me so poor a figure, that when a ship's 
 boat came to the island shame often constrained 
 me to hide myself in the woods from the sight 
 of strangers : especially had you known that my 
 conduct, principles and heart were still darker 
 than my outward condition ; how little would 
 you have imagined that one who so fully an- 
 swered to the description of the apostle, ft hate- 
 ful, and hating one another," was reserved to be 
 so peculiar an instance of the providential care 
 and exuberant goodness of God ! There was, at 
 that time, but one earnest desire in my heart, 
 which was not contrary and shocking both to 
 Teligion and reason : that one desire, though my 
 
60 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 vile licentious life rendered me peculiarly un- 
 worthy of success, and though a thousand diffi- 
 culties seemed to render it impossible, the Lord 
 was pleased to gratify. But this favor, though 
 great, and greatly prized, was a small thing, 
 compared to the blessings of his grace : he 
 spared me, to give me ft the knowledge of him- 
 self in the person of Jesus Christ." In love to 
 my soul he delivered me from the pit of corrup- 
 tion, and cast all my aggravated sins behind his 
 back. He brought my feet into the paths of 
 peace. This is, indeed, the chief article, but it 
 is not the whole. When he made me acceptable 
 to himself in the Beloved, he gave me favor in 
 the sight of others. He raised me new friends, 
 protected and guided me through a long series 
 of dangers, and crowned every day with repeat- 
 ed mercies. To him I owe it that I am still alive, 
 and that I am not still living in hunger, and in 
 thirst, and in nakedness, and the want of all 
 things : into that state I brought myself ; but 
 it was He who delivered me. He has given me 
 an easy situation in life, some experimental 
 knowledge of his Gospel, a large acquaintance 
 among his people, a friendship and correspond- 
 ence with several of his most honored servants. 
 But it is as difficult to enumerate my present ad- 
 vantages, as it is fully to describe the evils and 
 miseries of the preceding contrast. 
 
CONTINUANCE IN AFRICA. 
 
 61 
 
 I know not exactly how long things continued 
 with me thus, but I believe nearly a twelvemonth. 
 In this interval I wrote two or three times to my 
 father : I gave him an account of my condition, 
 and desired his assistance ; intimating at the 
 same time, that I had resolved not to return to 
 England unless he was pleased to send for me. 
 I have likewise by me letters written to Mrs. 
 N in that dismal period : so that at the low- 
 est ebb, it seems I still retained a hope of seeing 
 her again. My father applied to his friend in 
 Liverpool, of whom I have spoken before ; who 
 gave orders accordingly, to a captain of his who 
 was then fitting out for Gambia and Sierra Leone. 
 
 Some time within the year, as I have said, I 
 obtained my master's consent to live with an- 
 other trader who dwelt upon the same island. 
 Without his consent I could not be taken; and 
 he was unwilling to do it sooner ; but it was then 
 brought about. This was an alteration much to 
 my advantage : I was soon decently clothed, lived 
 in plenty, was considered as a companion, and 
 trusted with the care of all his domestic effects, 
 which were to the amount of some thousand 
 pounds. This man had several factories and 
 white servants in different places ; particularly 
 one in Kittam, the river I spoke of, which runs 
 so nearly along the sea-cost. I was soon ap- 
 pointed to go there, where I had a share in the 
 
 Newton. g 
 
62 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 management of business jointly with another of 
 his servants. We lived as we pleased, business 
 flourished, and our employer was satisfied. Here 
 I began to be wretch enough to think myself 
 happy. There is a significant phrase frequently 
 used in those parts, That such a white man has 
 grown black. It does not intend an alteration of 
 complexion, but disposition. I have known se- 
 veral who, settling in Africa after the age of 
 thirty or forty, have, at that time of life, been 
 gradually assimilated to the tempers, customs 
 and ceremonies of the natives, so far as to prefer 
 that country to England : they have even become 
 dupes to all the pretended charms, necromancies, 
 amulets and divinations of the blinded negroes, 
 and put more trust in such things than the wiser 
 sort among the natives. A part of this spirit of 
 infatuation was growing upon me ; (in time, per- 
 haps, I might have yielded to the whole ;) I en- 
 tered into closer engagements with the inhabit- 
 ants ; and should have lived and died a wretch 
 amongst them, if the Lord had not watched over 
 me for good. Not that I had lost those ideas 
 which chiefly engaged my heart to England ; but 
 despair of seeing them accomplished made me 
 willing to remain where I was. I thought I 
 could more easily bear the disappointment in 
 this situation than nearer home. But as soon as 
 I had fixed my connections and plans with these 
 
CONTINUANC IN AFRICA. 
 
 63 
 
 views, the Lord providentially interposed to break 
 them in pieces, and to save me from ruin in spite 
 of myself. 
 
 In the meantime the ship that had orders to 
 bring me home arrived at Sierra Leone. The 
 captain made inquiry for me there, and at the 
 Benanoes; but understanding that I was at a 
 great distance in the country, he thought no more 
 about me. Without doubt, the hand of God di- 
 rected my being placed at Kittam just at this 
 time ; for, as the ship came no nearer than the 
 Benanoes, and staid but a few days, if I had been 
 at the Plantanes I could not perhaps have heard 
 of her till she had sailed. The same must have 
 certainly been the event had I been sent to any 
 other factory, of which my new master had seve- 
 ral upon different rivers. But though the place I 
 was at was a long way up a river, much more 
 than a hundred miles distance from the Plantanes, 
 yet, by the peculiar situation which I have al- 
 ready noticed, \ was still within a mile of the sea- 
 coast. To make the interposition more remark- 
 able, I was at that very juncture going in quest 
 of trade to a place at some distance directly from 
 the sea ; and should have set out a day or two 
 before, but that we waited for a few articles from 
 the next ship that offered, to complete the assort- 
 ment of goods I was to take with me. We used 
 sometimes to walk on the beach, in expectation 
 
64 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 of seeing a vessel pass by; but this was very pre- 
 carious, as at that time the place was not at all 
 resorted to by ships for trade. Many passed in 
 the night, others kept at a considerable distance 
 from the shore. In a word, I do not know that 
 any one had stopped while I was there, though 
 some had before, upon observing a signal made 
 from the shore. In February, 1747, (I know not 
 the exact day,) my fellow-servant walking down 
 on the beach in the forenoon, saw a vessel sail- 
 ing past, and made a smoke in token of trade. 
 She was already a little beyond the place ; and 
 as the wind was fair the captain was in some de- 
 mur whether to stop or not. However, had my 
 companion been half an hour later she would 
 have been gone beyond recall; but he soon saw 
 her come to an anchor, and went on board in 
 a canoe ; and this proved the very ship I have 
 spoken of. One of the first questions he was 
 asked was concerning me ; and when the captain 
 understood I was so near, he came on shore to 
 deliver his message. Had an invitation from 
 home reached me when I was sick and starving 
 at the Plantanes I should have received it as life 
 from the dead; but now, for the reasons already 
 given, I heard it at first with indifference. The 
 captain, unwilling to lose me, told a story alto- 
 gether of his own framing : he gave me a very 
 plausible account how he had missed a large 
 
VOYAGE ON THE AFRICAN COAST. 
 
 65 
 
 packet of letters and papers which he should 
 have brought with him ; but this he said he was 
 sure of, having had it from my father's own 
 mouth, as well as from his employer, that a per- 
 son lately dead had left me £400 a year; adding 
 further, that if I was any way embarrassed in my 
 circumstances he had express orders to redeem 
 me, though it should cost one half of his cargo. 
 Every particular of this was false ; nor could I 
 myself believe what he said about the estate ; but 
 as I had some expectation from an aged relative, 
 I thought a part of it might be true. But I was 
 not long in suspense ; for though my father's care 
 and desire to see me had too little weight with 
 me, and would have been insufficient to make me 
 quit my retreat ; yet the remembrance of Mrs. 
 N , the hope of seeing her, and the possibili- 
 ty that accepting this offer might once more put 
 me in a way of gaining her hand, prevailed over 
 all other considerations. The captain further 
 promised (and in this he kept his word) that I 
 should lodge in his cabin, dine at his table, and 
 be his constant companion, without expecting 
 any service from me. And thus I was suddenly 
 freed from a captivity of about fifteen months. 
 I had neither a thought nor a desire of this change 
 one hour before it took place. I embarked with 
 him, and in a few hours lost sight of Kittam. 
 How much is their blindness to be pitied who 
 6* 
 
66 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 can see nothing but chance in events of this 
 sort ! So blind and stupid was I at that time, I 
 made no reflection, I sought no direction in what 
 had happened : like a wave of the sea, driven 
 with the wind and tossed, I was governed by 
 present appearances, and looked no farther. But 
 He who is eyes to the blind was leading me in a 
 way that I knew not. 
 
 Now I am in some measure enlightened, I can 
 easily perceive that it is in the adjustment and 
 concurrence of these seemingly fortuitous cir- 
 cumstances, that the ruling power and wisdom 
 of God is most evidently displayed in human 
 affairs. How many such casual events may we 
 remark in the history of Joseph, which had each 
 a necessary influence on his ensuing promotion! 
 If he had not dreamed, or if he had not told his 
 dream ; if the Midianites had passed by a day 
 sooner, or a day later ; if they had sold him to 
 any person but Potiphar; if his mistress had 
 been a better woman ; if Pharaoh's officers had 
 not displeased their lord ; or if any, or all these 
 things had fallen out in any other manner or 
 time than they did, all that followed had been 
 prevented ; the promises and purposes of God 
 concerning Israel, their bondage, deliverance, 
 polity and settlement, must have failed; and as 
 all these things tended to, and centered in Christ, 
 the promised Savior, the desire of all nations, 
 
VOYAGE ON THE AFRICAN COAST. 67 
 
 would not have appeared. Mankind had been 
 still in their sins, without hope, and the counsels 
 of God's eternal love in favor of sinners defeat- 
 ed. Thus we may see a connection between Jo- 
 seph's first dream and the death of our Lord Je - 
 sus Christ, with all its glorious consequences. 
 So strong, though secret, is the concatenation 
 between the greatest and the smallest events. 
 What a comfortable thought is this to a believer 
 — to know that, amidst all the various interfering 
 designs of men, the Lord has one constant de- 
 sign which he cannot, will not, miss j namely, his 
 own glory Tn~~fh^rrornptete" salvation of his peo- 
 ple ; and that he is wise, and strong, and faith- 
 ful, to make even those things which seem con- 
 trary to this design, subservient to promote it. 
 You have allowed me to comment upon my own 
 text ; yet the length of this observation may need 
 some apology. 
 
68 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 LETTER VII. 
 
 Trading on the African coast. — Dangerous voyage for 
 England. 
 
 The ship I was now on board as a passenger, 
 was on a trading voyage for gold, ivory, dyer's 
 wood and bees-wax. It requires a long time to 
 collect a cargo of this sort. The captain began 
 his trade at Gambia, had been already four or five 
 months in Africa, and continued there a year, or 
 thereabouts, after I was with him ; in which time 
 we ranged the whole coast as far as Cape Lopez, 
 which lies about a degree south of the equinoc- 
 tial, and more than a thousand miles farther from 
 England than the place where I embarked. I 
 have little to offer worthy your notice in the 
 course of this tedious voyage. I had no business 
 to employ my thoughts, but sometimes amused 
 myself with mathematics : excepting this, my 
 life, when awake, was a course of most horrid 
 impiety and profaneness. I know not that I have 
 ever since met so daring a blasphemer : not 
 content with common oaths and imprecations, I 
 daily invented new ones ; so that I was often 
 seriously reproved by the captain, who was him- 
 
TRADING ON THE AFRICAN COAST. 
 
 69 
 
 self a very passionate man, and not at all circum- 
 spect in his expressions. From the relation I at 
 times made him of my past adventures, and what 
 he saw of my conduct, and especially toward the 
 close of the voyage, when he met with many 
 disasters, he would often tell me that, to his 
 grief, he had a Jonah on board j that a curse at- 
 tended me wherever I went ; and that all the 
 troubles he met with in the voyage were owing 
 to his having taken me into the vessel. I shall 
 omit any further particulars, and after mention- 
 ing an instance or two of the Lord's mercy to 
 me while I was thus defying his power and 
 patience, I shall proceed to something more 
 worthy your perusal. 
 
 Although I lived long in the excess of almost 
 every other extravagance, I never was fond of 
 drinking ; and my father has often been heard to 
 say, that while I avoided drunkenness he should 
 still entertain hopes of my recovery. But some- 
 times I would promote a drinking-bout for the 
 sake of a frolic, as I termed it ) for though I did 
 not love the liquor, I was sold to do iniquity, 
 and delighted in mischief. The last abominable 
 frolic of this sort I engaged in was in the river 
 Gabon : the proposal and expense were my own. 
 Four or five of us one evening sat down upon 
 deck to see who could hold out longest in drink- 
 ing geneva and rum alternately: a large sea- 
 
70 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 shell supplied the place of a glass. I was very 
 unfit for a challenge of this sort j for my head 
 was always incapable of bearing much strong 
 drink. However, I began, and proposed the first 
 toast, which I well remember was some impreca- 
 tion against the person who should start first. 
 This proved to be myself. My brain was soon 
 fired. I arose and danced about the deck like a 
 madman ; and while I was thus diverting my 
 companions my hat went overboard. By the light 
 of the moon I saw the ship's boat, and eagerly 
 threw myself over the side to get into her, that 
 1 might recover my hat. My sight in that cir- 
 cumstance deceived me ; for the boat was not 
 within my reach, as I thought, but perhaps 
 twenty feet from the ship's side. I was, however, 
 half overboard, and should in one moment more 
 have plunged myself into the water, when some- 
 body caught hold of my clothes behind, and 
 pulled me back. This was an amazing escape ; 
 for I could not swim if I had been sober ; the 
 tide ran very strong ; my companions were too 
 much intoxicated to save me ; and the rest of the 
 ship's company were asleep. So near was I, to 
 all appearance, of perishing in that dreadful con- 
 dition, and sinking into eternity under the weight 
 of my own curse ! 
 
 Another time, at Cape Lopez, some of us had 
 been in the woods and shot a buffalo, or wild 
 
ADVENTURES ON THE AFRICAN COAST. 71 
 
 cow ; we brought a part of it on board, and care- 
 fully marked the place (as I thought) where we 
 left the remainder. In the evening we returned 
 to fetch it ; but we set out too late. I undertook 
 to be the guide ; but night coming on before we 
 could reach the place, we lost our way. Some- 
 times we were in swamps, up to the middle in wa- 
 ter ; and when we recovered dry land, we could 
 not tell whether we were walking toward the 
 ship, or wandering farther from her. Every step 
 increased our uncertainty. The night grew dark- 
 er, and we were entangled in inextricable woods, 
 where, perhaps, the foot of man had never trod 
 before. That part of the country is entirely aban- 
 doned to wild beasts, with which it prodigiously 
 abounds. We were, indeed, in a terrible case ; 
 having neither light, food nor arms, and expect- 
 ing a tiger to rush from behind every tree. The 
 stars were clouded, and we had no compass to 
 form a judgment which way we were going. Had 
 things continued thus, we had probably perished ; 
 but as it pleased God, no beast came near us ; 
 md after some hours' perplexity, the moon arose, 
 md pointed out the eastern quarter. It appeared 
 then, as we had expected, that, instead of draw- 
 ing nearer to the sea-side, we had been penetrat- 
 ing into the country ; but by the guidance of the 
 moon we at length came to the water-side, a con- 
 siderable distance from the ship. We got safe 
 
72 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 on board without any other inconvenience than 
 what we suffered from fear and fatigue. 
 
 These, and many other deliverances, were all 
 at that time entirely lost, upon me. The admoni- 
 tions of conscience, which, from successive re- 
 pulses had grown weaker and weaker, at length 
 entirely ceased ; and for a space of many months, 
 if not for some years, I cannot recollect that I had 
 a single check of that sort. At times I have been 
 visited with sickness, and have believed myself 
 near to death ; but I had not the least concern 
 about the consequences. In a word, I seemed to 
 have every mark of final impenitence and rejec- 
 tion ; neither judgments nor mercies made the 
 least impression on me. 
 
 At length, our business finished, we left Cape 
 Lopez, and after a few days' stay at the island of 
 Annabona, to lay in provisions, we sailed home- 
 ward, about the beginning of January, 1748. 
 From Annabona to England, without touching at 
 any intermediate port, is a very long navigation, 
 perhaps more than seven thousand miles, if we 
 include the circuit necessary to be made on ac- 
 count of the trade-winds. We sailed first west- 
 ward, till near the coast of Brazil, then northward, 
 to the Banks of Newfoundland, with the usual 
 variations of wind and weather, and without meet 
 ing any thing extraordinary. On these Banks we 
 stopped half a day to fish for cod : this was then 
 
VOYAGE FOR ENGLAND. 
 
 73 
 
 chiefly for diversion ; we had provisions enough, 
 and little expected those fish (as it afterward 
 proved) w r ould be all we should have to subsist 
 on. We left the Banks March 1, with a hard gale 
 of wind westerly, which pushed us fast home- 
 ward. I should here observe that, with the length 
 of this voyage in a hot climate, the vessel was 
 greatly out of repair, and very unfit to support 
 stormy weather ; the sails and cordage were like- 
 wise very much worn, and many such circum- 
 stances concurred to render what followed more 
 dangerous. I think it was on the *9th of March, 
 the day before our catastrophe, that I felt a 
 thought pass through my mind which I had long 
 been a stranger to. Among the few books we had 
 on board, one was Stanhope's Thomas a Kempis : 
 I carelessly took it up, as I had often done before, 
 to pass away the time j but I had still read it with 
 the same indifference as if it w r as entirely a ro- 
 mance. However, while I was reading this time, 
 an involuntary suggestion arose in my mind, 
 What if these things should be true \ I could not 
 bear the force of the inference, as it related to 
 myself, and therefore shut the book presently. 
 My conscience witnessed against me once more ; 
 and I concluded that, true or false, I must abide 
 the consequences of my own choice. I put an ab- 
 rupt end to these reflections by joining in with some 
 vain conversation or other that came in the way. 
 
 Newton. 7 
 
A 
 
 74) LIFE OF KEV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 But now the Lord's time was come, and the con- 
 viction I was so unwilling to receive was deeply 
 impressed upon me by an awful dispensation. I 
 went to bed that night in my usual security and 
 indifference, but was awakened from a sound 
 sleep by the force of a violent sea which broke 
 on board us. So much of it came down below as 
 filled the cabin I lay in with water. This alarm 
 was followed by a cry from the deck that the 
 ship was going down, or sinking. As soon as I 
 could recover myself I essayed to go upon deck ; 
 but was met upon the ladder by the captain, who 
 desired me to bring a knife with me. While I re- 
 turned for the knife another person went up in 
 my room, who was instantly washed overboard. 
 We had no leisure to lament him; nor did we 
 expect to survive him long; for we soon found 
 the ship was filling with water very fast. The 
 sea had torn away the upper timbers on one side, 
 and made the ship a mere wreck in a few mi- 
 nutes. I shall not affect to describe this disaster 
 in the marine dialect, which would be understood 
 by few; and therefore I can give you but a very 
 inadequate idea of it. Taking in all circumstances, 
 it was astonishing, and almost miraculous, that 
 any of us survived to relate the story. We had im- 
 mediately recourse to the pumps ; but the water 
 increased against all our efforts: some of us were 
 set to bailing in another part of the vessel, that 
 
VOYAGE FOR ENGLAND. 
 
 73 
 
 is, to lade it out with buckets and pails. We 
 had but eleven or twelve people to sustain this 
 service; and, notwithstanding all we could do, 
 she was full, or very near it : and then, with a 
 common cargo, she must have sunk of course ; 
 but we had a great quantity of beeswax and wood 
 on board, which were specifically lighter than 
 the water; and as it pleased God that we received 
 this shock in the very crisis of the gale, toward 
 morning we were enabled to employ some means 
 for our safety, which succeeded beyond hope. 
 In about an hour's time the day began to break, 
 and the wind abated. We expended most of our 
 clothes and bedding to stop the leaks; (though 
 the weather was exceedingly cold, especially to 
 us who had so lately left a hot climate ;) over 
 these we nailed pieces of boards, and at last per- 
 ceived the water abate. At the beginning of this 
 hurry I was little affected. I pumped hard, and en- 
 deavored to animate myself and my companions. 
 I told one of them that in a few days this distress 
 would serve' us to talk of over a glass of wine : 
 but he beinGf a less hardened sinner than myself, 
 replied with tears, fr Xo, it is too late now." 1 
 About nine o'clock, being almost spent with cold 
 and labor, I went to speak with the captain, who 
 was busied elsewhere ; and just as I was return- 
 ing from him, I said, almost without any mean- 
 ing, " If this will not do, the Lord have mercy on 
 
76 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 us." This (though spoken with little reflection) 
 was the first desire I had breathed for mercy for 
 the space of many years. 1 was instantly struck 
 with my own words, and as Jehu said once, What 
 hast thou to do with peace? so it directly occurred, 
 What mercy can there be for me? I was obliged to 
 return to the pump, and there I continued till 
 noon, almost every passing wave breaking over 
 my head; but we made ourselves fast with ropes 
 that we might not be washed away. Indeed, »' 
 expected that every time the vessel descended 
 in the sea, she would rise no more ; and though 
 I dreaded death now, and my heart foreboded the 
 worst, if the Scriptures, which I had long since 
 opposed, were indeed true, yet still I was but 
 half-convinced, and remained for a space of time 
 in a sullen frame, a mixture of despair and impa- 
 tienee. I thought if the christian religion were 
 true I could not be forgiven ; and was therefore 
 expecting, and almost, at times wishing, to know 
 the worst of it. 
 
VOYAGE FOR ENGLAND. 
 
 77 
 
 LETTER VIII. 
 
 Voyage for England continued. — His infidelity renounced* 
 
 The 10th (that is, in the present style, the 
 2 1st) of March is a day much to be remembered 
 by me ; and I have never suffered it to pass 
 wholly unnoticed since the year 174-8 : on that 
 day the Lord sent from on high and delivered 
 me out of deep waters. I continued at the pump 
 from three in the morning till near noon, and then 
 
 • I could do no more. I went and lay down upon 
 my bed, uncertain, and almost indifferent whe- 
 ther I should rise again. In an hour's time I was 
 called; and not being able to pump, I went to 
 the helm and steered the ship till midnight, ex- 
 cepting a short interval for refreshment. I had 
 here leisure and convenient opportunity for re- 
 flection. I began to think of my former religious 
 professions ; the extraordinary turns in my life ; 
 [he calls, warnings and deliverances I had met 
 with ; the licentious course of my conversation, 
 particularly my unparalleled effrontery in making 
 
 [the gospel-history (which I could not then be 
 sure was false, though I was not as yet assured 
 
 I it was true) the constant subject of profane ridi- 
 cule. I thought, allowing the Scripture premises, 
 
78 LIFE OP REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 there never was, nor could be, such a sinner as 
 myself ; and then, comparing the advantages I 
 had broken through, I concluded, at first, that 
 my sins were too great to be forgiven. The Scrip- 
 ture likewise seemed to say the same ; for I had 
 formerly been well acquainted with the Bible, 
 and many passages, upon this occasion, returne/ 
 upon my memory, particularly those awful pas 
 sages, Prov. 1 : 24-31 ; Heb. 6:4-6; and 2 Pet 
 2 : 20, which seemed so exactly to suit my case 
 and character as to bring with them a presump- 
 tive proof of a divine original. Thus, as I have 
 said, I waited with fear and impatience to receive 
 my inevitable doom. Yet though I had thoughts 
 of this kind, they were exceedingly faint and dis- 
 proportionate ; it was not till long after, (perhaps 
 several years,) till I had gained some clear views 
 of the infinite righteousness and grace of Jesus 
 Christ my Lord, that I had a deep and strong ap- 
 prehension of my state by nature and practice: 
 and perhaps till then I could not have borne the 
 sight. So wonderfully does the Lord proportion 
 the discoveries of sin and grace ; for he knows 
 our frame, and that if he were to put forth the 
 greatness of his power, a poor sinner would be 
 instantly overwhelmed, and crushed as a moth. 
 But to return : when I saw, beyond all probabi- 
 lity, there was still a hope of respite, and heard, 
 about six in the evening, that the ship was freed 
 
VOYAGE FOR ENGLAND. 79 
 
 from water, there arose a gleam of hope ; I 
 thought I saw the hand of God displayed in our 
 favor: I began to pray. I could not utter the 
 prayer of faith: I could not draw near to a re- 
 conciled God, and call him Father. My prayer 
 was like the cry of the ravens, which yet the 
 Lord does not disdain to hear. I now began to 
 think of that Jesus whom I had so often derided ; 
 I recollected the particulars of his life, and of 
 his death: a death for sins not his own, but, as 
 I remembered, for the sake of those who in their 
 distress should put their trust in him. And now ' 
 I chiefly wanted evidence. The comfortless prin- 
 ciples of infidelity were deeply riveted, and I 
 rather wished tftan believed these things were 
 real facts. You will please to observe, sir, that 
 I collect the strain of the reasonings and exer- 
 cises of my mind in one view ; but I do not 
 say that all this passed at one time. The great 
 question now was, how to obtain faith ? I speak 
 not of an appropriating faith, (of which I then 
 knew neither the nature nor necessity,) but how 
 I should gain an assurance that the Scriptures 
 were of divine inspiration, and a sufficient war- 
 rant for the exercise of trust and hope in God. 
 One of the first helps I received (in consequence 
 of a determination to examine the New Testa- 
 ment more carefully) was from Luke, 11 : 13. 
 I had been sensible that to profess faith in Jesus 
 
so 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 Christ, when in reality I did not believe his histo- 
 ry, was no better than a mockery of the heart- 
 searching God ; but here I found a Spirit spoken 
 of, which was to be communicated to those who 
 ask it. Upon this I reasoned thus: If this book 
 is true, the promise in this passage is true like- 
 wise : I have need of that very Spirit by which 
 the whole was written, in order to understand 
 it aright. He has engaged here to give that Spi- 
 rit to those who ask. I must, therefore, pray 
 for it ; and if it is of God, he will make good 
 his own word. My purposes were strengthened 
 by John, 7 : 17. I concluded from thence, that 
 though I could not say from my heart that I 
 believed the Gospel, yet I would for the present 
 take it for granted, and that by studying it in 
 this light I should be more and more confirmed 
 in it. If what I am writing could be perused by 
 our modern infidels, they would say (for I too 
 well know their manner) that I was very de- 
 sirous to persuade myself into this opinion. I 
 confess I was ; and so would they be, if the 
 Lord should show them, as he was pleased to 
 show me at that time, the absolute necessity of 
 some expedient to interpose between a righteous 
 God and a sinful soul. Upon the Gospel-scheme 
 I saw at least a peradventure of hope, but on 
 every other side I was surrounded with black, 
 unfathomable despair. 
 
VOYAGE FOR ENGLAND. 
 
 SI 
 
 The wind was now moderate, but continued 
 fair, and we were still drawing nearer to our 
 port. We began to recover from our conster- 
 nation, though we were greatly alarmed by our 
 circumstances. We found that the water hav- 
 ing floated all our moveables in the hold, all the 
 casks of provision had been beaten to pieces 
 by the violent motion of the ship ; on the other 
 hand, our live stock, such as pigs, sheep and poul- 
 try, had been washed overboard in the storm. In 
 effect, all the provisions we saved, except the 
 fish I mentioned, and some food of the pulse 
 kind, which used to be given to the hogs, (and 
 there was but little of this left,) all our other pro- 
 visions would have subsisted us but a week at 
 scanty allowance. The sails, too, were mostly 
 blown away, so that we advanced but slowly 
 even while the wind was fair. We imagined our- 
 selves about a hundred leagues from the land, 
 but were in reality much farther. Thus we pro- 
 ceeded with an alternate prevalence of hopes and 
 fears. My leisure time was chiefly employed in 
 reading and meditating on the Scripture, and 
 praying to the Lord for mercy and instruction. 
 
 Things continued thus for four or five days, 
 or perhaps longer, till we were awakened one 
 morning by the joyful shouts of the watch upon 
 deck proclaiming the sight of land. We were 
 all soon raised at the sound. The dawning was 
 
82 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 uncommonly beautiful, and the light (just strong 
 enough to discover distant objects) presented us 
 with a gladdening prospect : it seemed a moun- 
 tainous coast, about twenty miles from us, ter- 
 minating in a cape or point ; and a little further 
 two or three small islands, or hummocks, as just 
 rising out of the water ; the appearance and po- 
 sition seemed exactly answerable to our hopes, 
 resembling the north-west extremity of Ireland, 
 which we were steering for. We sincerely con- 
 gratulated each other, making no doubt but that, 
 if the wind continued, we should be in safety and 
 plenty the next day. We ate up the residue of 
 our bread for joy at this welcome sight, and 
 were in the condition of men suddenly reprieved 
 from death. While we were thus alert, the mate, 
 with a graver tone than the rest, sunk our spirits 
 by saying " that he wished it might prove land 
 at last." If one of the common sailors had first 
 said so, I know not but the rest would have beat 
 him for raising such an unreasonable doubt. It 
 brought on, however, warm debates and disputes, 
 whether it was land or not ; but the case was 
 soon unanswerably decided, for the day was ad- 
 vancing fast, and in a little time one of our fan- 
 cied islands began to grow red from the ap- 
 proach of the sun, which soon arose just under 
 it. In a word, we had been prodigal of our bread 
 too hastily ; our land was nothing but clouds ; 
 
VOYAGE FOR ENGLAND. 
 
 83 
 
 and in half an hour mors the whole appearance 
 was dissipated. Seamen have often known de- 
 ceptions of this sort, hut in our extremity we 
 vvere very loth to he undeceived. However, we 
 comforted ourselves that though we could not 
 >ee the land yet, we should soon, the wind 
 litherto continuing fair. But, alas ! we were 
 leprived of this hope likewise. That very day 
 »ur fair wind subsided into a calm, and the next 
 norning the gales sprung up from the south- 
 cast, directly against us, and continued so for 
 nore than a fortnight afterward. The ship was 
 ;o wrecked that we were obliged to keep the 
 vind always on the broken side, unless the wea- 
 her was quite moderate. Thus we were driven, 
 >y the wind fixing in that quarter, still further 
 rom our port, to the northward of all Ireland, 
 is far as the Lewis, or western islands of Scot- 
 and, but a long way to the westward. In a word, 
 >nr station was such as deprived us of any hope 
 )f being relieved by other vessels. Jt may, iu- 
 Iced, be questioned whether our ship was not the 
 ery first that had been in that part of the ocean 
 t the same season of the year. 
 
 Provisions now began to grow very short: the 
 ialf of a salted cod was a day's subsistence for 
 welve people. We had plenty of fresh water, 
 >ut no bread, hardly any clothes, and very cold 
 ireather. We had incessant labor with the pumps 
 
84 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 to keep the ship above water. Much labor and 
 little food wasted us fast, and one man died un- 
 der the hardship. Yet our sufferings were light 
 in comparison to our just fears. We could not 
 afford this bare allowance much longer, but had 
 a terrible prospect of being either starved to 
 death, or reduced to feed upon one another. Our 
 expectations grew darker every day ; and I had 
 a further trouble, peculiar to myself. The cap- 
 tain, whose temper was quite soured by distress, 
 was hourly reproaching me (as I formerly ob- 
 served) as the sole cause of the calamity j and 
 was confident that if I was thrown overboard, 
 and not otherwise, they should be preserved 
 from death. He did not intend to make the 
 experiment ; but the continual repetition of this 
 in my ears gave me much uneasiness, especially 
 as my conscience seconded his words ; I thought 
 it very probable that all that had befallen us was 
 on my account. I was at last found out by the 
 powerful hand of God, and condemned in my 
 own breast. However, proceeding in the method 
 I have described, I began to conceive hopes 
 greater than all my fears ; especially Avhen, at 
 the time we were ready to give up all for lost, 
 and despair was taking place in every counte- 
 nance, I saw the wind come about to the very 
 point we wished it, so as best to suit that broken 
 part of the ship which must be kept out of the 
 
VOYA&E FOR ENGLAND. 
 
 85 
 
 water, and to blow so gentle as. our few remain- 
 ing sails could bear j and thus it continued, with- 
 out any observable alteration or increase, though 
 at an unsettled time of the year, till we once 
 more were called up to see the land, and were 
 convinced that it was land indeed. We saw the 
 island Tory, and the next day anchored in Lough 
 Swilly, in Ireland. This was the 8th of April, 
 just four weeks after the damage we sustained 
 from the sea. When we came into this port our 
 very last victuals was boiling in the pot ; and 
 before we had been there two hours, the wind, 
 which seemed to have been providentially re- 
 strained till we were in a place of safety, began 
 to blow with great violence ; so that, if we had 
 continued at sea that night, in our shattered en- 
 feebled condition, we must, in all human appear- 
 ance, have gone to the bottom. About this time 
 I began to know that there is a God that hears 
 and answers prayer. How many times has he 
 appeared for mc since this great deliverance ! 
 yet, alas ! how distrustful and ungrateful is my 
 heart unto this hour. 
 
 Newton. 
 
 s 
 
Sb 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 LETTER IX. 
 
 Voyage to England concluded — Apparent Conversion — 1745. 
 
 I have brought my history down to the time of 
 my arrival in Ireland, 174-8 5 but before I proceed 
 I would look back a little to give you some fur- 
 ther account of the state of my mind, and how 
 far I was helped against inward difficulties, which 
 beset me at the time I had many outward hard- 
 ships to struggle with. The straits of hunger, 
 cold, weariness, and the fears of sinking and 
 starving, I shared in common with others : but 
 besides these, I felt a heart-bitterness which was 
 properly my own ; no one on board but myself 
 being impressed with any sense of the hand of 
 God in our danger and deliverance, at least not 
 awakened to any concern for their souls. No 
 temporal dispensations can reach the heart un- 
 less the Lord himself applies them. My compan- 
 ions in danger were either quite unaffected, or 
 soon forgot it all ; but it was not so with me ,* 
 not that I was any wiser or better than they, but 
 because the Lord was pleased to vouchsafe mc 
 peculiar mercy ; otherwise I was the most un- 
 likely person in the ship to receive an impres- 
 sion, having been often before quite stupid and 
 
VOYAGE TO ENGLAND. 
 
 R7 
 
 hardened in the very face of great dangers, and 
 having always, till this time, hardened my neck 
 still more and more after every reproof. I can see 
 no reason why the Lord singled me out for mercy, 
 but this, " that so it seemed good to him j" un- 
 less it was to show by one astonishing instance, 
 that " with him nothing is impossible." 
 
 There were no persons on board to whom I 
 could open myself with freedom concerning the 
 state of my soul, none from whom I could ask 
 advice. As ,to books, I had a New Testament, 
 Stanhope, already mentioned, and a volume of 
 Bishop Beveridge's Sermons, one of which, upon 
 our Lord's Passion, affected me much. In perus- 
 ing the New Testament, I was struck with seve- 
 ral passages, particularly that of the fig-tree, 
 Luke, 13; the case of St. Paul, 1 Tim. 1; but 
 particularly the prodigal, Luke, 15; a case I 
 thought had never been so nearly exemplified as 
 by myself: and then the goodness of the father 
 in receiving, nay, in running to meet such a son ; 
 and this intended only to illustrate the Lord's 
 goodness to returning sinners: this gained upon 
 me. I continued much in prayer ; I saw that the 
 Lord had interposed so far to save me ; and I 
 hoped he would do more. The outward circum- 
 stances helped in this place to make me still more 
 serious and earnest in crying to Him who alone 
 could relieve me ; and sometimes I thought I 
 
LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 could be content to die even for want of food, if 
 I might but die a believer. Thus far I was an- 
 swered, that before we arrived in Ireland I had a 
 satisfactory evidence in my own mind of the truth 
 of the Gospel, as considered in itself, and its ex- 
 act suitableness to answer all my needs. I saw 
 that by the way there pointed out, God might de- 
 clare, not his mercy only, but his justice also, in 
 the pardon of sin, on account of the obedience 
 and sufferings of Jesus Christ. M y judgment at 
 that time embraced the sublime doctrine of" God 
 manifest in the flesh, reconciling the world to 
 himself." I bad no idea of those systems which 
 allow the Savior no higher honor than that of an 
 upper servant, or, at the most, a demi-god. I stood 
 in need of an almighty Savior, and such a one I 
 found described in the New Testament. Thus 
 far the Lord had wrought a marvellous thingj__I^ 
 was no longer an infidel ; I heartily renounced 
 mjHformer profaneness ; I had taken up some 
 right notions, was seriously disposed, and sin- 
 cerely touched with a sense of the undeserved 
 mercy I had received, in being brought safe 
 through so many dangers. I was sorry for my 
 past misspent life, and purposed an immediate re- 
 formation: I was quite freed from the habit of 
 swearing, which seemed to have been deeply 
 rooted in me as a second nature. Thus, to all 
 appearance, I was a new man. 
 
VOYAGE FOR ENGLAND. 89 
 
 But though I cannot doubt that this change, so 
 far as it prevailed, was wrought by the Spirit and 
 power of God; yet still I was greatly deficient 
 in many respects. I was, in some degree, af- 
 fected with a sense of my more enormous sins ; 
 but I was little aware of the innate evils of m y 
 heart. I had no apprehension of the spirituality 
 and extent of the law of God.; the hidden life of 
 a christian, as it consists in communion with 
 God by Jesus Christ ; and a continual dependance 
 on him for hourly supplies of wisdom, strength 
 and comfort, was a mystery of which I had as 
 yet no knowledge. I acknowledged the Lord's 
 mercy in pardoning what was past, but depended 
 chiefly upon my own resolution to do better for 
 the time to come. I had no christian friend or 
 faithful minister to advise me that my strength 
 was no more than my righteousness ; and though 
 I soon began to inquire for serious books, yet, 
 not having spiritual discernment, I frequently 
 made a wrong choice ; and I was not brought in 
 the way of evangelical preaching or conversation 
 (except a few times when I heard but understood 
 not) for six years after this period. Those things 
 the Lord was pleased to discover to me gradual- 
 ly. I learned them here a little and there a little, 
 by my own painful experience, at a distance from 
 the common means and ordinances, and in the 
 midst of the same course of evil company and 
 
90 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 bad examples as I had been conversant with for 
 some time. From this period I could no more 
 make a mock at sin, or jest with holy things; I 
 no more questioned the truth of Scripture, or lost 
 a sense of the rebukes of conscience. ^Therefore 
 { consider this as the beginning of my return to 
 God, or rather of his return to me ; but I cannot 
 consider myself to have been a believer (in the 
 full sense of the word) till a considerable time 
 afterward. 
 
 I have told you that, in the time of our dis- 
 tress, we had fresh water in abundance. This 
 was a considerable relief to us, especially as our 
 spare diet was mostly salt-fish, without bread ; 
 we drank plentifully, and were not afraid of want- 
 ing water; yet our stock of this likewise was 
 much nearer to an end than we expected ; we sup- 
 posed that we had six large butts of water on 
 board ; and it was well that we were safe arrived 
 in Ireland before we discovered that five of 
 them were empty, having been removed out of 
 their places, and stove by the violent agitation 
 when the ship was full of water. If we had found 
 this out while we were at sea, it would have 
 greatly heightened our distress, as we must 
 have drunk more sparingly. 
 
 While the ship was refitting at Lough Swilly, 
 I repaired to Londonderry. I lodged at an ex- 
 ceedingly good house, where I was treated with 
 
VOYAGE FOR ENGLAND. 
 
 91 
 
 much kindness, and soon Tecruited my health and 
 strength. I was now a serious professor, went 
 twice a-day to the prayers at church, and was, at 
 times, very particular and earnest in my private 
 devotion ; but yet, for want of a better knowledge 
 of myself, and the subtlety of Satan's tempta- 
 tions, I was soon seduced to forget the vows of 
 God that were upon me. One day as I was abroad 
 with the mayor of the city, and some other gen- 
 tlemen, shooting, I climbed up a steep bank, and 
 pulling my fowling-piece after me, as 1 held it in 
 a perpendicular direction, it went off so near my 
 face as to burn away the corner of my hat. Thus, 
 when we think ourselves in the greatest safety, 
 we are no less exposed to danger than when all 
 the elements seem conspiring to destroy us. The 
 Divine Providence, which is sufficient to deliver 
 us in our utmost extremity, is equally necessary 
 to our preservation in the most peaceful situation. 
 
 During our stay in Ireland I wrote home. The 
 vessel I was in had not been heard of for eio-h- 
 teen months, and was given up for lost long be- 
 fore. My father had no more expectation of hear- 
 ing that I was alive ; but he received my letter a 
 few days before he left London. He was just 
 going governor of York Fort, in Hudson's Bay, 
 from whence he never returned. He sailed be- 
 fore I landed in England, or he had purposed to 
 take me with him ; but God designing otherwise, 
 
92 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 one hinderance or another delayed us in Ireland 
 until it was too late. I received two or three af- 
 fectionate letters from him, but I never had the 
 pleasure of seeing him more. I had hopes that, 
 in three years more, I should have had an oppor- 
 tunity of asking his forgiveness for the uneasi 
 ness my disobedience had given him; but the 
 ship that was to have brought him home came 
 without him. According to the best accounts 
 we received, he was seized with the cramp when 
 bathing, and drowned, a little before her arrival 
 in the bay. Excuse this digression. 
 
 My father, willing to contribute all in his power 
 to my satisfaction, paid a visit, before his depar- 
 ture, to my friends in Kent, and gave his con- 
 sent to the union which had been so long talked 
 
 of. Thus, when I returned to I found I had 
 
 only the consent of one person to obtain ; with 
 her I as yet stood at as great an uncertainty as 
 on the first day I saw her. 
 
 I arrived at Liverpool the latter end of May, 
 1748, about the same day that my father sailed 
 from the Nore ; but found the Lord had provided 
 me another father in the gentleman whose ship 
 had brought me home. He received me with great 
 tenderness, and the strongest expressions of 
 friendship and assistance ; yet no more than he 
 has since made good: for to him, as the instru- 
 ment of God's goodness, I owe my all. Yet it 
 
ARRIVAL IN ENGLAND. 
 
 93 
 
 would not have been in the power even of this 
 friend to have served me effectually, if the Lord 
 had not met with me on my way home, as I have 
 related. Till then I was like the man possessed 
 with the legion. No arguments, no persuasion, 
 no views of interest, no remembrance of the past, 
 or regard to the future, could have constrained 
 me within the bounds of common prudence. But 
 now I was, in some measure, restored to my 
 senses. My friend immediately offered me the 
 command of a ship ; but, upon mature considera- 
 tion, I declined it for the present. I had been 
 hitherto always unsettled and careless ; and 
 therefore thought I had better make another 
 voyage first, and learn to obey, and acquire a 
 further insight and experience in business before 
 I ventured to undertake such a charge. The mate 
 of the vessel I came home in was preferred to the 
 command of a new ship, and I engaged to go in 
 the station of mate with him. I made a short visit 
 to London, &c. which did not fully answer my 
 views. I had but one opportunity of seeing Mrs. 
 
 N , of which I availed myself very little ; for 
 
 I was always exceedingly awkward in pleading 
 my own cause in our conversation. But after my 
 return to Liverpool I put the question in such a 
 manner, by letter, that she could not avoid (un- 
 less I had greatly mistaken her) coming to some 
 sort of an explanation. Her answer (though pen- 
 
94, 
 
 LIFE OF TvEV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 ned with abundance of caution) satisfied me ; as 
 I collected from it that she was free from any 
 other engagement, and not unwilling to wait the 
 event of the voyage I had undertaken. I should 
 be ashamed to trouble you with these little de- 
 tails, if you had not yourself desired me. 
 
 LETTER X. 
 
 Sails for Africa as Mate. — Sickness. — Studies Latin. 
 
 My connections with sea-affairs have often led 
 me to think, that the varieties observable in chris- 
 tian experience may be properly illustrated from 
 the circumstances of a voyage. Imagine to your- 
 self a number of vessels, at different times, and 
 from different places, bound to the same port; 
 there are some things in which all these would 
 agree — the compass steered by, the port in view, 
 the general rules of navigation, both as to the 
 management of the vessel and determining their 
 astronomical observations, would be the same in 
 all. In other respects they would differ; perhaps 
 no two of them would meet with the same dis- 
 tribution of winds and weather. Some we see 
 
VOYAGE TO AFRICA AS MATE. 95 
 
 et out with a prosperous gale ; and when they 
 tlmost think their passage secured they are 
 checked by adverse blasts ; and, after enduring 
 much hardship and danger, and frequent expec- 
 ations of shipwreck, they just escape, and reach 
 he desired haven. Others meet the greatest dif- 
 ficulties at first ; they put forth in a storm, and 
 ire often beaten back; at length their voyage 
 iroves favorable, and they enter the port with a 
 ich and abundant entrance. Some are hard beset 
 vith cruisers and enemies, and obliged to fight 
 heir way through ; others meet with little re- 
 narkable in their passage. Is it not thus in the 
 spiritual life 1 All true believers walk by the 
 >ame rule, and mind the same things ; the wora 
 )f God is their compass; Jesus is both their 
 lolar star and their sun of righteousness; their 
 learts and faces are all set Zion-ward. Thus far 
 hey are as one body, animated by one -spirit; yet 
 heir experience, formed upon these common 
 principles, is far from being uniform. The Lord, 
 n his first call, and his following dispensations, 
 las a regard to the situation, temper and talents 
 )f each, and to the particular services or trials 
 ic has appointed them for. Though all are ex- 
 ercised at times, yet some pass through the 
 oyagc of life much more smooth! y than others. 
 3ut he " who walketh upon the wings of the wind, 
 md measures the waters in the hollow of his 
 
06 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 hand," will not suffer any of whom he has once 
 taken charge to perish in the storms, though for 
 a season, perhaps, many of them are ready to 
 give up all hopes. 
 
 We must not, therefore, make the experience 
 of others, in all respects, a rule to ourselves, nor 
 our own a rule to others 5 yet these are common 
 mistakes, and productive of many more. As to 
 myself, every part of my case has been extraordi- 
 nary. I have hardly met a single instance resem- 
 bling it. Few, very few, have been recovered from 
 such a dreadful state ; and the few that have been 
 thus favored have generally passed through the 
 most severe convictions ; and after the Lord has 
 given them peace, their future lives have been 
 usaally more zealous, bright, and exemplary than 
 common. Now, as on the one hand my convictions 
 were very moderate, and far below what might 
 have been expected from the dreadful review I 
 had to make j so, on the other, my first beginnings 
 in a religious course were as faint as can be well 
 imagined. I never knew that season alluded to, 
 Jer. 2:2; Rev. 2 : 4, usually called the time of 
 ihe first love. Who would not expect to hear that, 
 after such a wonderful unhoped-for deliverance 
 as I had received, and after my eyes were in 
 some measure enlightened to see things aright, 
 I should immediately cleave to the Lord and his 
 ways with full purpose of heart, and consult no 
 
VOYAGE TO AFRICA AS 31 ATE. 
 
 97 
 
 more with flesh and blood 1 But, alas! it was far 
 jtherwise with me. I had learned to pray ; I set 
 >ome value upon the word of God, and was no 
 longer a libertine : but my soul still cleaved to 
 he dust. Soon after my departure from Liver- 
 pool I began to intermit, and grow slack in wait- 
 og upon the Lord ; I grew vain and trifling in 
 my conversation ; and though my heart smote 
 ne often, yet my armor was gone, and I declined 
 fast ; and by the time I arrived at Guinea I seem- 
 ed to have forgot all the Lord's mercies, and my 
 own engagements, and was (profaneness except- 
 ed) almost as bad as before. The enemy prepared 
 i train of temptations, and I became his easy 
 prey ; and, for about a month, he lulled me asleep 
 in a course of evil, of which, a few months be- 
 fore, I could not have supposed myself any long- 
 er capable. How much propriety is there in the 
 apostle's advice, " Take heed, lest any of you be 
 hardened through the deceitfulness of sin !" 0, 
 who can be sufficiently upon their guard ! Sin 
 iirst deceives, and then it hardens. I was now 
 fast bound in chains ; I had little desire, and no 
 power at all, to recover myself. I could not but 
 at times reflect how it was with me ; but if I at- 
 tempted to struggle with it, it was in vain. I was 
 just like Samson when he said, tf I will go forth 
 and shake myself as at other times but the 
 
 Lord was departed, and he found himself help- 
 
 Nfevrtoa. y 
 
98 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 less in the hands of his enemies. By the remem 
 brance of this interval, the Lord has often in 
 structed me since, what a poor creature I am in 
 myself, incapable of standing a single hour with- 
 out continual fresh supplies of strength and grace 
 from the fountain-head. 
 
 At length the Lord, whose mercies are infinite, 
 interposed in my behalf. My business in this 
 voyage, while upon the coast, was to sail from 
 place to place in the long-boat, to purchase slaves. 
 The ship was at Sierra Leone, and I then at the 
 Plantanes, the scene of my former captivity, 
 where every thing I saw might remind me of my 
 ingratitude. I was in easy circumstances, court- 
 ed by those who formerly despised me : the lime' 
 trees I had planted were growing tall, and pro- 
 mised fruit the following year ; against which time 
 I had expectations of returning with a ship of my 
 own. But none of these things affected me, till, 
 as I have said, the Lord again interposed to save 
 me. He visited me with a violent fever, which 
 broke the fatal chain, and once more brought me 
 to myself. But, O what a prospect ! I thought 
 myself now summoned away. My past dangers 
 and deliverances, my earnest prayers in the time 
 of trouble, my solemn vows before the Lord, and 
 my ungrateful returns for all his goodness, were 
 all present to my mind at once. Then I began to 
 wish that the Lord had suffered me to sink into 
 
VOYAGE TO AFRICA AS MATE. 
 
 99 
 
 the ocean when I first besought his mercy. For 
 a little while I concluded the door of hope to be 
 quite shut ; but this continued not long. Weak, 
 and almost delirious, I arose from my bed, and 
 crept to a retired part of the island ; and here I 
 found a renewed liberty to pray. I durst make 
 no more resolves, but cast myself before the Lord, 
 to do with me as he should please. I do not re- 
 member that any particular text or remarkable 
 discovery was presented to my mind ; but, in 
 general, I was enabled to hope and believe in a 
 crucified Savior. The burden was removed from 
 my conscience, and not only my peace but my 
 health was restored ; I cannot say instantaneous- 
 ly ; but I recovered from that hour ; and so fast, 
 that when I returned to the ship, two days after- 
 ward, I was perfectly well before I got on board. 
 And from that time, I trust, I have been deliver- 
 ed from the power and dominion of sin j though, 
 as to the effects and conflicts of sin dwelling in 
 me, I still w groan, being burdened." I now be- 
 gan again to wait upon the Lord ; and though I 
 have often grieved his Spirit, and foolishly wan- 
 dered from him since, (when, alas, shall I be more 
 wise !) yet his powerful grace has hitherto pre- 
 served me from such black declensions as this I 
 have last recorded : and I humbly trust in his 
 mercy and promises, that he will be my guide 
 and guard to the end. 
 
100 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 My leisure hours in this voyage were chiefly 
 employed in learning the Latin language, which 
 I had now entirely forgot. This desire took place 
 from an imitation I had seen of one of Horace's 
 odes in a magazine. I began the attempt under 
 the greatest disadvantages possible ; for I pitch- 
 ed upon a poet, perhaps the most difficult of the 
 poets, even Horace himself, for my first book. I 
 had picked up an old English translation of him, 
 which, with Castalio's Latin Bible, were all my 
 help. I forgot a dictionary, but I would not 
 therefore give up my purpose. I had the edition 
 in usum Delpkini ; and, by comparing the odes 
 with the interpretation, and tracing the words, I 
 could understand from # ope place to another by 
 the index, with the assistance I could get from 
 the Latin Bible : in this way, by dint of hard in- 
 dustry, often waking when I might have slept, I 
 made some progress before I returned, and not 
 only understood the sense and meaning of many 
 odes, and some of the epistles, but began to re- 
 lish the beauties of the composition, and acquired 
 a spice of what Mr. Law calls classical enthusiasm. 
 And indeed, by this means, I had Horace more 
 in my mind than some who are masters of the 
 Latin tongue ; for my helps were so few, that I 
 generally had the passage fixed in my memory 
 before I could fully understand its meaning. 
 
 My business in the long-boat, during the eight 
 
VOYAGE TO AFRICA AS MATE. 
 
 101 
 
 months we were upon the coast, exposed me to 
 innumerable dangers and perils, from burning 
 suns and chilling dews, winds, rains and thunder- 
 storms, in the open boat ; and on shore, from 
 long journeys through the woods, and the tem- 
 per of the natives, who are in many places 
 cruel, treacherous, and watching opportunities 
 for mischief. Several boats in the same time 
 were cut off, several white men poisoned, and in 
 my own boat, I buried six or seven people with 
 fevers. When going on shore, or returning from 
 it, in their little canoes, I have been more than 
 once or twice overset by the violence of the surf, 
 [ or breach of the sea, and brought to land half- 
 dead (for I could not swim.) An account of such 
 escapes as I still remember, would swell to seve- 
 ral sheets, and many more I have perhaps forgot : 
 I shall only select one instance, as a specimen of 
 that wonderful providence which watched over 
 me for good, and which, I doubt not, you will 
 think worthy of notice. 
 
 When our trade was finished, and we were near 
 sailing to the West Indies, the only remaining 
 service I had to perform in the boat was to as- 
 sist in bringing the wood and water from the 
 shore. We were then at Rio Cestors. I used to 
 go into the river in the afternoon with the sea- 
 breeze, procure my loading in the evening, and 
 return on board in the morning with the land- 
 
M>2 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 wind. Several of these little voyages I had 
 made ; but the boat was become old and almost 
 unfit for use. The service likewise was almost 
 completed. One day, having dined on board, I 
 was preparing to return to the river as former- 
 ly : I had taken leave of the captain, received 
 his orders, was ready in the boat, and just going 
 to put off, as we term it, that is, to let go our 
 i*opes and sail from the ship. In that instant 
 the captain came up from the cabin, and called 
 me on board again. I went, expecting further 
 orders ; but he said that he took it in his head 
 (as he phrased it) that I should remain that day in 
 the ship ; and accordingly ordered another man 
 to go in my room. I was surprised at this, as the 
 boat had never been sent away without me be- 
 fore, and asked him the reason ; he could give 
 me no reason but as above, that so he would 
 have it. Accordingly the boat went without me ; 
 but returned no more : she sunk that night in the 
 river, and the person who had supplied my place 
 was drowned. I was much struck when we re- 
 ceived news of the event the next morning. The 
 captain himself, though quite a stranger to reli- 
 gion, so far as to deny a particular providence, 
 could not help being affected ; but he declared 
 that he had no other reason for countermanding 
 me at that time, but that it came suddenly into 
 his mind to detain me. 
 
MARRIAGE. 
 
 103 
 
 LETTER XI. 
 
 Marriage. — First Voyage to Africa as Captain. — Study of 
 Latin exclianged for the Scriptures. 
 
 A few days after I was thus wonderfully saved 
 from an unforeseen danger we sailed for Anti- 
 gua, and from thence proceeded to Charleston, 
 in South Carolina. In this place there are many 
 serious people ; hut I knew not where to find 
 them out : indeed I was not aware of a difference, 
 but supposed that all who attended public wor- 
 ship were good christians. I was as much in the 
 dark about preaching, not doubting but whatever 
 name from the pulpit must be very good. I had 
 two or three opportunities of hearing a dissent- 
 ing minister, named Smith, who, by what I have 
 known since, I believe to have been an excellent 
 ind powerful preacher of the Gospel ; and there 
 vas something in his manner that struck me, but 
 j ■ did not rightly understand him. The best words 
 hat men can speak are ineffectual till explained 
 ind applied by the Spirit of God, who alone can 
 )pen the heart. It pleased the Lord, for some 
 ime, that I should learn no more than what he 
 mabled me to collect from my own experience 
 md reflection. My conduct was now very incon 
 
104 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 sistent. Almost every day, when business would 
 permit, I used to retire into the woods and fields 
 (for these, when at hand, have always been my 
 favorite oratories,) and I trust I began to taste 
 the sweets of communion with God in^the exer- 
 cises of prayer and praise ; and yet I frequently 
 spent the evenings in vain and worthless com- 
 pany. Indeed my relish for worldly diversions 
 was much weakened, and I was rather a specta- 
 tor than a sharer in their pleasures; but I did not 
 as yet see the necessity of an absolute forbear- 
 ance. Yet as my compliance with custom and 
 company was chiefly owing to want of light, ra- 
 ther than to an obstinate attachment, and the 
 Lord was pleased to preserve me, in some good 
 degree, I trust, from what I knew was sinful, I 
 had, for the most part, peace of conscience, and 
 my strongest desires were toward the things of 
 God. As yet I knew not the force of that pre- 
 cept, "Abstain from all appearance of evil;" but 
 very often ventured upon the brink of tempta- 
 tion ; but the Lord was gracious to my weakness, 
 and would not suffer the enemyto prevail against 
 me. I did not break with the world at once, (as 
 might, in my case, have been expected,) but I was 
 gradually led to see the inconvenience and folly 
 of one thing after another ; and when I saw it, 
 the Lord strengthened me to give it up. But it 
 was some years before I was set quite at liberty 
 
MARRIAGE. 
 
 105 
 
 from occasional compliances in many things, in 
 which at this time I durst by no means allow 
 myself. 
 
 We finished our voyage, and arrived in Liver- 
 pool. When the ship's affairs were settled, I 
 went to London, and from thence (as you may 
 suppose) I soon repaired to Kent. More than se- 
 ven years had now elapsed since my first visit. 
 No views of the kind could seem more chimeri- 
 cal, or could subsist under greater discourage- 
 ments than mine had done ; yet, through the 
 overruling goodness of God, while I seemed 
 abandoned to myself, and blindly following my 
 own headstrong passions, I was guided by a hand 
 that I knew not, to the accomplishment of my 
 wishes. Every obstacle was now removed. I had 
 renounced my former follies, my interest was 
 established, and friends on all sides consenting, 
 the point was now entirely between ourselves ; 
 and after what had passed, was easily concluded. 
 Accordingly our hands were joined on the 1st of 
 February, 1750. 
 
 The satisfaction I have found in this union, 
 you will suppose has been greatly heightened by 
 reflection on the former disagreeable contrasts I 
 had passed through, and the views I have had 
 of the singular mercy and providence of the Lord 
 in bringing it to pass. If you please to look back 
 to the beginning of my sixth letter, I doubt not 
 
106 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 but you will allow, that few persons have known 
 more either of the misery or happiness of which 
 human life (as considered in itself) is capable. 
 How easily, at a time of life when I was so little 
 capable of judging, (but a few months more than 
 seventeen,) might my affections have been fixed 
 where they could have met with no return, or 
 where success would have been the heaviest dis- 
 appointment. The long delay I met with was 
 likewise a mercy ; for had I succeeded a year 01 
 two sooner, before the Lord was pleased tc 
 change my heart, we must have been mutuall) 
 unhappy, even as to the present life. " Surel) 
 mercy and goodness have followed me all mj 
 days!" 
 
 But, alas ! I soon began to feel that my hear 
 was still hard and ungrateful to the God of mj 
 life. This crowning mercy which raised me t< 
 all I could ask or wish in a temporal view, an< 
 which ought to have been an animating motivi 
 to obedience and praise, had a contrary effect, 
 rested in the gift, and forgot the Giver. My poo 
 narrow heart was satisfied. A cold and careles 
 frame, as to spiritual things, took place, an 
 gained ground daily. Happily for me the seaso 
 was advancing, and in June I received orders t 
 repair to Liverpool. This roused me from m 
 dream. I need not tell you that I found the pain 
 of absence and separation fully proportioned t 
 
MARRIAGE. 
 
 107 
 
 my proceding pleasure. It was hard, very hard 
 to part, especially as conscience interfered, and 
 suggested to me how little I deserved that we 
 should be spared to meet again. But the Lord 
 supported me. I was a poor, faint, idolatrous 
 creature ; but I had now some acquaintance 
 with the way of access to a throne of grace 
 by the blood of Jesus ; and peace was soon re- 
 stored to my conscience. Yet, through all the 
 following voyage my irregular and excessive af- 
 fections were as thorns in my eyes, and often 
 made my other blessings tasteless and insipid. 
 But He who doeth all things well over-ruled this 
 ikcwise for good. It became an occasion of 
 quickening me in prayer both for my wife and 
 myself; it increased my indifference for compa- 
 ny and amusement ; it habituated me to a kind 
 }f voluntary self-denial, which I was afterward 
 aught to improve to a better purpose. 
 
 While I remained in England we corresponded 
 ?very post ; and all the while I used the sea af- 
 erward, I constantly kept up the practice of 
 vriting two or three times a-week, (if weather 
 ind business permitted,) though no conveyance 
 lomeward offered for six or eight months to- 
 gether. My packets were usually heavy ; and as 
 lot one of them at any time miscarried, I have 
 o the amount of nearly two hundred sheets of 
 >aper now lying in my bureau of that correspond- 
 
108 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 ence. I mention this little relief by which I con- 
 trived to soften the intervals of absence, because 
 it had a good effect beyond my first intention. It 
 habituated me to think and write upon a great 
 variety of subjects ; and I acquired, insensibly, 
 a greater readiness of expressing myself than I 
 should otherwise have attained. As I gained more 
 ground in religious knowledge, my letters became 
 more serious ; and, at times, I still find an advan- 
 tage in looking them over ; especially as they re- 
 mind me of many providential incidents, and the 
 state of my mind at different periods in these 
 voyages, which would otherwise have escaped 
 my memory. 
 
 I sailed from Liverpool in August, 1750, com- 
 mander of a good ship. I have no very extraor- 
 dinary events to recount from this period, and 
 shall therefore contract my memoirs lest I be- 
 come tedious: yet I am willing to give you a 
 brief sketch of my history down to 1755, the 
 year of my settlement in my present situation. 
 I had now the command and care of thirty per- 
 sons ; I endeavored to treat them with humanity, 
 and to set them a good example : I likewise es- 
 tablished public worship, twice every Lord's-day, 
 officiating myself. Farther than this I did not 
 proceed while I continued in that employment. 
 
 Having now much leisure, I prosecuted the 
 study of the Latin with good success. I took a 
 
FIRST VOYAGE AS CAPTAIN. 109 
 
 dictionary this voyage, and procured two or 
 three other books; but still it was my hap to 
 choose the hardest. I added Juvenal to Horace ; 
 and, for prose authors, I pitched upon Livy, Caesar 
 and Sallust. You will easily conceive, sir, that I 
 had hard work to begin (where I should have left 
 off) with Horace and Livy. I was not aware of 
 the difference of style : I had heard Livy highly 
 commended, and I was resolved to understand 
 him. I began with the first page, and laid down 
 a rule, which I seldom departed from, not to pro- 
 ceed to a second period till I understood the first, 
 and so on. I was often at a stand, but seldom 
 discouraged : here and there I found a few lines 
 quite obstinate, and was forced to break in upon 
 my rule, and give them up, especially as my edi- 
 tion had only the text, without any notes to as- 
 sist me. But there were not many such; for be- 
 fore the close of that voyage I could (with a few 
 exceptions) read Livy from end to end, almost 
 as readily as an English author. And I found, in 
 surmounting this difficulty, I had surmounted all 
 in one. Other prose authors, when they came in 
 my way, cost me little trouble. In short, in the 
 space of two or three voyages I became tolera- 
 bly acquainted with the best classics ; (I put all 
 I have to say upon this subject together :) I read 
 Terence, Virgil, and several pieces of Cicero, and 
 the modern classics, Buchanan, Erasmus and Cas- 
 
 Ncwton. -If) 
 
110 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 simir. At length I conceived a design of becom- 
 ing a Ciceronian myself, and thought it would be 
 a fine thing indeed to write pure and elegant La- 
 tin. I made some essays toward it, but by this 
 time the Lord was pleased to draw me nearer to 
 himself, and to give me a fuller view of the 
 " pearl of great price," the inestimable treasure 
 hid in the field of the Holy Scriptures ; and, for 
 the sake of this, I was made willing to part with 
 all my newly-acquired riches. I began to think 
 that life was too short (especially my life) to ad- 
 mit of leisure for such elaborate trifling. Neither 
 poet nor historian could tell me a word of Jesus, 
 and I therefore applied myself to those who could. 
 The classics were at first restrained to one morn- 
 ing in the week, and at length quite laid aside. I 
 have not looked into Livy these five years, and 
 I suppose I could not now well understand him. 
 Some passages in Horace and Virgil I still ad- 
 mire ; but they seldom come in my way. I pre- 
 fer Buchanan's Psalms to a whole shelf of Elze- 
 virs. But this much I have gained — and more 
 than this I am not solicitous about — so much of 
 the Latin as enables me to read any useful or 
 curious book that is published in that language. 
 About the same time, and for the same reason 
 that I quarrelled with Livy, I laid aside the ma- 
 thematics. I found they not only cost me much 
 time, but engrossed my thoughts too far , my 
 
FIRST VOYAGE AS CAPTAIN. Ill 
 
 head was literally full of schemes. I was weary 
 of cold contemplative truths, which can neither 
 warm nor amend the heart, but rather tend to 
 aggrandize self. I found no traces of this wis- 
 dom in the life of Jesus or the writings of Paul. 
 I do not regret that I have had some opportu- 
 nities of knowing the first principles of these 
 things ; but I see much cause to praise the Lord 
 that he inclined me to stop in time ; and, whilst 
 I was " spending my labor for that which is not 
 bread," was pleased to set before me f? wine and 
 milk, without money and without price." 
 
 My first voyage was fourteen months, through 
 various scenes of danger and difficulty, but no- 
 thing very remarkable ; and as I intend to br 
 more particular with regard to the second, 1 
 shall only say that I was preserved from every 
 harm $ and having seen many fall on my right 
 hand and on my left, I was brought home in 
 peace, and restored to where my thoughts had 
 been often directed, November 2, 1751. 
 
112 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 LETTER XII. 
 
 Second Voyage to Africa as Commander. 
 
 I almost wish I could recall my last sheet, 
 and retract my promise. I fear I have engaged 
 too far, and shall prove a mere egotist. What 
 have I more that can deserve your notice 1 
 However, it is some satisfaction that I am now 
 writing to yourself only ; and I believe you will 
 have candor to excuse what nothing but a sense 
 of your kindness could extort from me. 
 
 Soon after the period where my last closes, 
 that is, in the interval between my first and se- 
 cond voyage after my marriage, I began to keep 
 a sort of diary ; a practice which I have since 
 found of great use. I had in this interval re- 
 peated proofs of the ingratitude and evil of my 
 heart. A life of ease in trie midst of my friends, 
 and the full satisfaction of my wishes, was not 
 favorable to the progress of grace, and afforded 
 cause of daily huviiliation. Yet, upon the whole, 
 I gained ground. I became acquainted with books 
 which gave mt a farther view of christian doc- 
 trine and experience ; particularly, ScougalVs 
 Life of God in the Soul of Man, Hervetfs Medi- 
 
ANOTHER VOYAGE TO AFRICA. 
 
 113 
 
 tations, and the Life of Colonel Gardiner. As to 
 preaching, I heard none but the common sort, 
 and had hardly an idea of any better ; neither 
 had I the advantage of christian acquaintance. I 
 was likewise greatly hindered by a cowardly re- 
 served spirit j I was afraid of being thought pre- 
 cise ; and though I could not live without prayer, 
 I I durst not propose it even to my wife, till she 
 I herself first put me upon it : so far was I from 
 i those expressions of zeal and love which seem 
 I so suitable to the case of one who has had much 
 \ forgiven. In a few months the returning season 
 \ called me abroad again, and I sailed from Liver- 
 • pool in a new ship, July, 1752. 
 
 A seafaring life is necessarily excluded from 
 the benefit of public ordinances and christian 
 communion ; but, as I have observed, my loss 
 upon these heads was at this time but small. In 
 other respects, I know not any calling that seems 
 more favorable, or affords greater advantages to 
 an awakened mind, for promoting the life of God 
 in the soul ; especially to a person who has the 
 command of a ship, and thereby has it in his 
 power to restrain gross irregularities in others, 
 and to dispose of his own time ; and still more 
 so in African voyages, as these ships carry a 
 double proportion of men and officers to most 
 others, which made my department very easy ; 
 and, excepting the hurry of trade, &c. upon the 
 10* 
 
in 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 coast, which is rather occasional than constant, 
 afforded me abundance of leisure. To be at sea 
 in these circumstances, withdrawn out of the 
 reach of innumerable temptations, with oppor- 
 tunity and turn of mind disposed to observe the 
 wonders of God in the great deep ; with the two 
 noblest objects of sight, the expanded heavens 
 and the expanded ocean, continually in view ; and 
 where evident interpositions of Divine Provi- 
 dence, in answer to prayer, occur almost every 
 day ; these are helps to quicken and confirm 
 the life of faith, which, in a good measure, sup- 
 ply to a religious sailor the want of those advan- 
 tages which can be enjoyed only upon the shore. 
 And, indeed, though my knowledge of spiritual 
 things, as knowledge is usually estimated, was at 
 this time very small, yet I sometimes look back 
 with regret upon these scenes. I never knew 
 sweeter or more frequent hours of divine com- 
 munion than in my last two voyages to Guinea, 
 when I was either almost secluded from society 
 on shipboard, or when on shore amongst the na- 
 tives. I have wandered through the woods, re- 
 flecting on the singular goodness of the Lord to 
 me, in a place where, perhaps, there was not a 
 person that knew him for some thousand miles 
 round me. Many a time, upon these occasions, 
 I have restored the beautiful lines of Propertius 
 to their right owner ; lines full of blasphemy and 
 
ANOTHER VOYAGE TO AFRICA. 115 
 
 madness when addressed to a creature, but full 
 of comfort and propriety in the mouth of a 
 believer. 
 
 Sic ego desertis possim bene vivere sylvis, 
 duo nulla huraano sit via trita pede : 
 Tu mini curarum requies, in nocte vel atra 
 Lumen, et in solis tu mihi turba locis. 
 
 PARAPHRASED. 
 
 In desert woods, with thee, my God, 
 Where human footsteps never trod, 
 
 How happy could I be ; 
 Thou my repose from care, my light 
 Amidst the darkness of the night, 
 
 In solitude my company. 
 
 In the course of this voyage I was wonderfully 
 preserved in the midst of many obvious and 
 many unforeseen dangers. At one time there was 
 a conspiracy amongst my own people to turn pi- 
 rates, and take the ship from me. When the plot 
 was nearly ripe, and they waited only a conve- 
 nient opportunity, two of those concerned in it 
 were taken ill in one day ; one of them died, and 
 he was the only person I buried while on board. 
 This suspended the affair, and opened a way to 
 its discovery, or the consequence might have 
 been fatal. The slaves on board were likewise 
 frequently plotting insurrections, and were some- 
 
116 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 times upon the very brink of mischief; but it 
 was always disclosed in due time. When I have 
 thought myself most secure, I have been sudden- 
 ly alarmed with danger ; and when I have almost 
 despaired of life, as sudden a deliverance has 
 been vouchsafed me. My stay upon the coast 
 was long, the trade very precarious ; and, in pur- 
 suit of my business, both on board and on shore, 
 I was in deaths often. Let the following instance 
 serve as a specimen: 
 
 I was at a place called Mana, near Cape Mount, 
 where I had transacted very large concerns; and 
 had, at the time I am speaking of, some debts 
 and accounts to settle which required my attend- 
 ance on shore, and I intended to go the next morn- 
 ing. When I arose I left the ship, according to 
 my purpose, but when I came near the shore, the 
 surf, or breach of the sea ran so high that I was 
 almost afraid to attempt landing: indeed I had of- 
 ten ventured at a worse time ; but I felt an inward 
 hinderance and backwardness, which I could 
 not account for : the surf furnished a pretext for 
 indulging it ; and after waiting and hesitating for 
 about half an hour, I returned to the ship without 
 doing my business ; which I think I never did 
 but that morning in all the time I used that trade. 
 But I soon perceived the reason of all this : It 
 seems, the day before I intended to land, a scan- 
 dalous and groundless charge had been laid 
 
ANOTHER VOYAGE TO AFRICA. 
 
 117 
 
 against me, (by whose instigation I could never 
 learn,) which greatly threatened my honor and 
 interest, both in Africa and England, and would 
 perhaps, humanly speaking, have affected my 
 life, if I had landed according to my intention. I 
 shall, perhaps, enclose a letter which will give a 
 full account of this strange adventure ; and there- 
 fore shall say no more of it here, any further than 
 to tell you that an attempt, aimed to destroy 
 either my life or character, and which might, very 
 probably, in its consequences, have ruined my 
 voyage, passed off without the least inconveni- 
 ence. The person most concerned owed me about 
 a hundred pounds, which he sent me in a huff; 
 and otherwise, perhaps, would not have paid me 
 at all. I was very uneasy for a few hours, but 
 was soon afterward comforted. I heard no more 
 of my accusation till the next vOyage ; and then 
 it was publicly acknowledged to be a malicious 
 calumny, without the least shadow of a ground. 
 
 Such were the vicissitude^ and difficulties 
 through which the Lord preserved me. Now and 
 then both faith and patience were sharply exer- 
 cised ; but suitable strength was given ; and as 
 such things did not occur every day, the study 
 of the Latin, of which I gave a general account 
 in my last, was renewed, and carried on from 
 time to time when business would permit. I was 
 mostly very regular in the management of my 
 
118 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 time ; I allotted eight hours for sleep and meals, 
 eight hours for excerise and devotion, and eight 
 hours to my books : and thus, by diversifying my 
 engagements, the whole day was agreeably fill- 
 ed up ; and I seldom found a day too long, or an 
 hour to spare. My studies kept me employed; 
 and so far it was well ; otherwise they were 
 hardly worth the time they cost, as they led me 
 to an admiration of false models and false max- 
 ims ; an almost unavoidable consequence (I 
 suppose) of an admiration of classic authors. 
 Abating what I have attained of the language, I 
 think I might have read Cassandra or Cleopatra 
 to as good purpose as I read Livy, whom I now 
 account an equal romancer, though in a different 
 way. 
 
 From the coast I went to St. Christopher's; 
 and here my idolatrous heart was its own punish- 
 ment. The letters I expected' from Mrs. Newton 
 were by mistake forwarded to Antigua, which 
 had been at first proposed as our port. As I was 
 certain of her punctuality in writing, if alive, 1 
 concluded, by not hearing from her, that she was 
 surely dead. This fear affected me more and 
 more ; I lost my appetite and rest ; I felt an in- 
 cessant pain in my stomach; and in about three 
 weeks time I was near sinking under the weight 
 of an imaginary stroke. I felt some severe symp- 
 toms of that mixture of pride and madness which 
 
ANOTHER VOYAGE TO AFRICA. 119 
 
 is commonly called a broken heart; and indeed I 
 wonder that this case is not more common than 
 it appears to be. How often do the potsherds of 
 the earth presume to contend with their Maker ! 
 and what a wonder of mercy is it that they are 
 not all broken ! However, my complaint was 
 not all grief; conscience had a share. I thought 
 t my unfaithfulness to God had deprived me of 
 t her, especially my backwardness in speaking of 
 | spiritual things, which I could hardly attempt, 
 | even to her. It was this thought, that I had lost 
 invaluable, irrecoverable opportunities, which 
 both duty and affection should have engaged me 
 i to improve, that chiefly stung me ; and I thought 
 < I would have given the world to know that she 
 was living, that I might at least discharge my 
 engagements by writing, though I was never to 
 see her again. This was a sharp lesson ; but I 
 hope it did me good ; and when I had thus suf- 
 fered some weeks, I thought of sending a small 
 vessel to Antigua. I did so ; and she brought me 
 several packets ; which restored my health and 
 oeace, and gave me a strong contrast of the 
 Lord's goodness to me, and my unbelief and in- 
 gratitude towards him. 
 
 In August, 1753, 1 returned to Liverpool. My 
 >tay was very short at home that voyage — only 
 4x weeks. In that space nothing very memorable 
 >ccurred ; I shall therefore begin my next with 
 
120 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 an account of my third and last voyage. And 
 thus I give both you and myself hopes of a speedy 
 period to these memoirs, which begin to be te- 
 dious and minute even to myself ; only I am ani- 
 mated by the thought that I write at your re- 
 quest ; and have therefore an opportunity of 
 showing myself Yours, &c. 
 
 LETTER XIII. 
 
 Third, and last Voyage to Africa. — Sickness. — Religious 
 experience. 
 
 My third voyage was shorter and less per- 
 plexed than eifher^of my former. Before I sailed 
 I met with a young man who had formerly been 
 a midshipman, and my intimate companion on 
 board the Harwich. He was, at the time I first 
 knew him, a sober youth ; but I had found too 
 much success in my unhappy attempts to infect 
 him with libertine principles. When we met at 
 Liverpool our acquaintance was renewed upon 
 the ground of our former intimacy. He had good 
 sense, and had read many good books. Our con- 
 versation frequently turned upon religion ; and 
 
LAST VOYAGE TO AFRICA. 
 
 121 
 
 I was very desirous to repair the mischief I had 
 done him. I gave him a plain account of the 
 manner and reason of my change, and used 
 every argument to persuade him to relinquish 
 his infidel schemes ; and when I sometimes 
 pressed him so close that he had no other reply 
 to make, he would remind me that I was the very 
 first person who had given him an idea of his 
 liberty. This occasioned me many mournful re- 
 flections. He was then going master to Guinea 
 himself ; but before his ship was ready his mer- 
 chant became a bankrupt, which disconcerted his 
 voyage. As he had no farther expectations for 
 that year, I offered to take him with me as a 
 companion, that he might gain a knowledge of 
 the coast ; and the gentleman who employed me 
 promised to provide for him upon his return. My 
 view in this was not so much to serve him in his 
 business, as to have an opportunity of debating 
 the point with him at leisure ; and I hoped, in 
 the course of my voyage, my arguments, exam- 
 pie and prayers, might have some good effect 
 on him. My intention in this step was better 
 than my judgment ; and I had frequent reason to 
 repent it. He was exceedingly profane, and 
 grew worse and worse. I saw in him a most 
 lively picture of what I had once been ; but it 
 was very inconvenient to have it always before 
 my eyes. Besides, he was not only deaf to me 
 
 Newton. 1 1 
 
122 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 remonstrances himself, but labored all he could 
 to counteract my influence upon others. His 
 spirit and passions were likewise exceedingly 
 high ; so that it required all my prudence and 
 authority to hold him in any degree of restraint. 
 He was as a sharp thorn in my side for some 
 time ; but at length I had an opportunity upon 
 the coast of buying a small vessel, which I sup- 
 plied with a cargo from my own, and gave him 
 the command, and sent him away to trade on the 
 ship's account. When we parted, I repeated and 
 enforced my best advice. I believe his friend- 
 ship and regard were as great as could be ex- 
 pected, when our principles were so diametrical- 
 ly opposite. He seemed greatly affected when I 
 left him : but my words had no weight with him ; 
 when he found himself at liberty from under my 
 eye, he gave a hasty loose to every appetite ; and 
 his violent irregularities, joined to the heat of 
 the climate, soon threw him into a malignant 
 fever, which carried him off in a few days. He 
 died convinced, but not changed. The accounts 
 I had from those who were with him were dread- 
 ful. His rage and despair struck them all with 
 horror ; and he pronounced his own fatal doom 
 before he expired, without any appearance that 
 he either hoped or asked for mercy. I thought 
 this awful contrast might not be improper to 
 give you, as a stronger view of the distinguish- 
 
LAST VOYAGE TO AFRICA. 
 
 123 
 
 ing goodness of God to me, the chief of sinners. 
 
 I left the const in about four months, and sailed 
 for St. Christopher's. Hitherto I had enjoyed a 
 perfect state of health, equally in every climate, 
 for several years ; but upon this passage I was 
 visited with a fever, which gave me a very near 
 prospect of eternity. I have obtained liberty to 
 enclose you three or four letters, which will more 
 clearly illustrate the state and measure of my ex- 
 perience at different times than any thing I can 
 say at present. One of them, you will find, was 
 written at this period, when I could hardly hold 
 a pen, and had some reason to believe I should 
 write no more. I had not that " full assurance" 
 which is so desirable at a time when flesh and 
 heart fail} but my hopes were greater than my 
 fears j and I felt a silent composure of spirit, 
 which enabled me to wait the event without much 
 anxiety. My trust, though weak in degree, was 
 alone fixed upon the blood and righteousness of 
 Jesus; and those words, " He is able to save to 
 the uttermost," gave me great relief. I was for a 
 while troubled with a very singular thought ; 
 whether it was a temptation, or that the fever 
 disordered my faculties, I cannot say ;J)ut I seem- 
 ed not so much afraid of wrath and punishment, 
 as of being lost and overlooked amidst the my- 
 riads that are continually entering the unseen 
 world. What is my soul, thought I, amongst such 
 
124 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 an innumerable multitude of beings 1 and this 
 troubled me greatly. Perhaps the Lord will take 
 no notice of me. I was perplexed thus for some 
 time ; but at last a text of Scripture, very appo- 
 site to the case, occurred to my mind, and put 
 an end to the doubt : " The Lord knoweth them 
 that are his." In about ten days, beyond the hope 
 of those about me, I began to amend ; and by the 
 time of our arrival in the West Indies I was per- 
 fectly recovered. I hope this visitation was made 
 useful to me. 
 
 Thus far, that is, for about the space of six 
 years, the Lord was pleased to lead me in a se- 
 cret way. I had learned somethirfg of the evil 
 of my heart ; I had read the Bible over and over, 
 with several good books, and had a general view 
 of Gospel-truths ; but my conceptions were, in 
 many respects, confused, not having in all this 
 time met with one acquaintance who could assist 
 my inquiries. But upon my arrival at St. Chris- 
 topher's, on this voyage, I found a captain of a 
 ship from London, whose conversation was great- 
 ly helpful to me. He was and is a member of 
 Mr. Brewer's church, a man of experience in the 
 things of God, and of a lively communicative 
 turn. We discovered each other by some casual 
 expressions in mixed company, and soon became, 
 so far as business would permit, inseparable. For 
 nearly a month we spent every evening together 
 
LAST VOYAGE TO AFRICA. 
 
 125 
 
 on* board each other's ship alternately, and often 
 prolonged our visits till toward day-break. I was 
 all ear ; and, what was better, he not only in- 
 formed my understanding, but his discourse in- 
 flamed my heart. He encouraged me to open my 
 mouth in social prayer 5 he taught me the advan- 
 tage of christian converse ; he put me upon an 
 attempt to make my profession more public, and 
 to venture to speak for God. From him, or ra- 
 ther from the Lord by his means, I received an 
 increase of knowledge : my conceptions became 
 clearer and more evangelical ; and I was delivered 
 from a fear which had long troubled me — the fear 
 of relapsing into my former apostacy. But now 
 I began to understand the security of the cove- 
 nant of grace, and to expect to be preserved, not 
 by my own power and holiness, but by the migh- 
 ty power and promise of God, through faith in 
 an unchangeable Savior. He likewise gave me a 
 general view of the state of religion, with the 
 errors and controversies of the times, (things to 
 which I had been entirely a stranger,) and finally 
 directed me where to apply in London for fur- 
 ther instruction. With these newly-acquired ad- 
 vantages, I left him, and my passage homeward 
 gave me leisure to digest what I had received. I 
 had much comfort and freedom during those se- 
 ven weeks, and my sun was seldom clouded. I 
 arrived safely in Liverpool, August, 1754?. 
 11* 
 
126 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 My stay at home was intended to be but short ; 
 and by the beginning of November I was again 
 ready for the sea ; but the Lord saw fit to over 
 rule my design. During the time I was engaged 
 in the slave-trade I never had the least scruple 
 as to its lawfulness. I was, upon the whole, sa- 
 tisfied with it, as the appointment Providence 
 had marked out for me ; yet it was, in many re- 
 spects, far from eligible. I tw^s, indeed, account- 
 ed a genteel employment, and usually very pro- 
 fitable, though to me it did not prove so, the Lord 
 seeing that a large increase of wealth would not 
 be good for me. However, I considered myself as 
 a sort of jailer or turnkey, and I was sometimes 
 shocked with an employment that was perpe- 
 tually conversant with chains, bolts and shackles. 
 In this view I had often petitioned, in my prayers, 
 that the Lord, in his own time, would be pleased 
 to fix me in a more humane calling, and, if it 
 might be, place me where I might have more fre- 
 quent converse with his people and ordinances, 
 and be freed from those long separations from 
 home, which very often were hard to bear. My 
 prayers were now answered, though in a way I 
 little expected. I now experienced another sud- 
 den, unforeseen change of life. I was within two 
 days of sailing, and, to all appearance, in as good 
 health as usual ; but in the afternoon, as I was 
 sitting with Mrs. Newton, drinking tea by our- 
 
FOURTH VOYAGE PREVENTED. 
 
 127 
 
 selves, and talking over past events, 1 was in a 
 moment seized with a fit which deprived me of 
 sense and motion, and left me no other sign of 
 life than that of breathing. I suppose it was of the 
 apoplectic kind. It lasted about an hour; and 
 when I recovered, it left a pain and dizziness in 
 my head, which continued, with such symptoms 
 as induced the physicians to judge it would not 
 be safe or prudent for me to proceed on the 
 voyage. Accordingly, by the advice of my friend 
 to whom the ship belonged, I resigned the com- 
 mand the day before she sailed ; and thus I was 
 unexpectedly called from that service, and freed 
 from a share of the future consequences of that 
 voyage, which proved extremely calamitous. The 
 person who went in my room, most of the officers, 
 and many of the crew died, and the vessel was 
 brought home with great difficulty. 
 
 As I was now disengaged from business, I left 
 Liverpool, and spent most of the following year 
 at London and in Kent. But I entered upon a 
 new trial. You will easily conceive that Mrs. 
 Newton was not an unconcerned spectator when 
 I lay extended, and, as she thought, expiring, 
 upon the ground. In effect, the blow that struck 
 me reached her in the same instant : she did not 
 indeed immediately feel it, till her apprehensions 
 on my account began to subside ; but as I grew 
 better, she became worse: her surprise threw 
 
1'28 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 her into a disorder which no physicians could 
 define, or medicines remove. Without any of the 
 ordinary symptoms of a consumption, she decay- 
 ed almost visibly, till she became so weak that 
 she could hardly bear any one to walk across the 
 room she was in. I was placed, for about eleven 
 months, in what Dr. Young calls the 
 
 dreadful post of observation, 
 
 Darker every hour. 
 
 It was not till after my settlement at Liver- 
 pool that the Lord was pleased to restore her 
 by his own hand, when all hopes from ordinary 
 means were at an end. But before this took 
 place I have some other particulars to mention, 
 which must be the subject of the following 
 sheet, which I hope will be the last on this sub- 
 ject from, &c. 
 
IN ENGLAND. 
 
 129 
 
 LETTER XIV. 
 
 Sichiess of Airs. Newton. — Rural devotions. — Residence in 
 Liverpool. — Studies Greek and Hebrew. — Is refused ordi- 
 nation. 
 
 By the directions I had received from my 
 friend at St. Kitts, I soon found out a religious 
 tcquaintance in London. I first applied to Mr. 
 Brewer, and chiefly attended upon his ministry 
 when in town. From him I received many helps, 
 both in public and private; for he was pleased 
 to favor me with his friendship from the first. 
 His kindness and the intimacy between us has 
 continued and increased to this day; and of all 
 my many friends, I am most deeply indebted to 
 him. The late Mr. H d was my second ac- 
 quaintance, a man of a choice spirit, and an 
 abundant zeal for the Lord's service. I enjoyed 
 his correspondence till near the time of his 
 death. Soon after, upon Mr. Whitefield's return 
 from America, my two good friends introduced 
 me to him ; and though I had little personal ac- 
 quaintance with him till afterward, his ministry 
 was exceedingly useful to me. I had likewise 
 access to some religious societies, and became 
 known to many excellent christians in private 
 
130 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 life. Thus, when at London, I lived at the foun- 
 tain-head, as it were, for spiritual advantages. 
 When I was in Kent it was very different; yet 
 I found some serious persons there ; but the 
 fine variegated woodland country afforded me 
 advantages of another kind. Most of my time, 
 at least some hours every day, I passed in retire- 
 ment, when the weather was fair ; sometimes in 
 the thickest woods, sometimes on the highest 
 hills, where almost every step varied the pros- 
 pect. It has been my custom, for many years, to 
 perform my devotional exercises sub die, when I 
 have opportunity ; and I always find these rural 
 scenes have some tendency both to refresh and 
 to compose my spirits. A beautiful diversified 
 prospect gladdens my heart. When I am with- 
 drawn from the noise and petty works of men, 
 I consider myself as in the great temple which 
 the Lord has built for his own honor. 
 
 The country between Rochester and Maid- 
 stone, bordering upon the Medway, was well 
 suited to the turn of my mind ; and were I to go 
 over it now, I could point to many a place where 
 I remember to have either earnestly sought, or 
 happily found, the Lord's comfortable presence 
 with my soul. And thus I lived, sometimes at 
 London, and sometimes in the country, till the 
 autumn of the following year. All this while I 
 had two trials more or less upon my mind : the 
 
IN ENGLAND. 
 
 131 
 
 irst and principal was Mrs. Newton's illness; 
 >he still grew worse, and I had daily more rea- 
 son to fear that the hour of separation was at 
 land. When faith was in exercise, I was in some 
 neasure resigned to the Lord's will ; but too 
 )ften my heart rebelled, and I found it hard 
 ;ither to trust or to submit. I had likewise 
 ;ome care about my future settlement ; the Afri- 
 can trade was overdone that year, and my friends 
 lid not care to fit out another ship till mine 
 
 . eturned. I was some time in suspense ; but in- 
 leed a provision of food and raiment has seldom 
 >een a cause of great solicitude to me. I found 
 t easier to trust the Lord in this point than in 
 he former; and accordingly this was first an- 
 wered. In August I received notice that I was 
 lominated to the office of tide-surveyor. These 
 >laces are usually obtained, or at least sought, 
 >y dint of much interest and application ; but 
 his came to me unsought and unexpected. I 
 
 , ,:new, indeed, my good friends in Liverpool had 
 mdeavored to procure another post for me, but 
 ound it pre-engaged. I found, afterward, that 
 he place I had missed would have been very 
 msuitable for me ; and that this, which I had no 
 nought of, was the very thing I could have 
 wished for, as it afforded me much leisure and 
 he liberty of living in my own way. Several 
 ircumstances, unnoticed by others, concurred 
 
132 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 to show me that the good hand of the Lord was 
 as remarkably concerned in this event, as in any 
 other leading turn of my life. 
 
 But when I gained this point, my distress in 
 the other was doubled ; I was obliged to leave 
 Mrs. Newton in the greatest extremity of pain 
 and illness, when the physicians could do no 
 more, and I had no ground of hope that I should 
 see her again alive, but this— that nothing is im- 
 possible with the Lord. I had a severe conflict ; 
 but faith prevailed : I found the promise remark- 
 ably fulfilled, of strength proportioned to my 
 need. The day before I set out, and not till then, 
 the burden was entirely taken from my mind j I 
 was strengthened to resign both her and myself 
 to the Lord's disposal, and departed from her in 
 a cheerful frame. Soon after I was gone she 
 began to amend, and recovered so fast, that in 
 about two months I had the pleasure to meet 
 her at Stone, on her journey to Liverpool. 
 
 And now I think I have answered, if not ex- 
 ceeded your desire. Since October, 1755, we 
 have been comfortably settled at Liverpool : and 
 all my circumstances have been as remarkably 
 smooth and uniform, as they were various in for- 
 mer years; My trials have been light and few; 
 not but that I still find, in the experience of every 
 day, the necessity of a life of faith. My princi- 
 pal trial is, the body of sin and death, which 
 
RESIDENCE AT LIVERPOOL. 
 
 133 
 
 makes me often to sigh out the apostle's com- 
 plaint : tf 0 wretched man !" but with him like- 
 wise I can say, " 1 thank God, through Jesus 
 Christ my Lord." I live in a barren land, where 
 the knowledge and power of the Gospel is very 
 low ; yet here are a few of the Lord's people ; 
 and this wilderness has been a useful school to 
 me, where I have studied more leisurely the 
 truths I gathered up in London. I brought down 
 with me a considerable stock of notional truth j 
 but I have since found that there is no effectual 
 teacher but God ; that we can receive no farther 
 than he is pleased to communicate ; and that no 
 knowledge is truly useful to me but what is made 
 my own by experience. Many things I thought 
 I had learned, w r ould not stand in an hour of 
 temptation, till I had in this way learned them 
 over again. Since the year 1757 I have had an 
 increasing acquaintance in the West-riding of 
 Yorkshire, where the Gospel flourishes greatly. 
 This has been a good school to me : I have con- 
 versed at large among all parties, without joining 
 any ; and in my attempts to hit the golden mean, 
 I have sometimes been drawn too near the differ- 
 ent extremes ; yet the Lord has enabled me to 
 profit by my mistakes. In brief, I am still a 
 learner, and the Lord still condescends to teach 
 me. I begin at length to see that I have attain- 
 ed but very little ; but I trust in him to carry 
 
 Newton. 1 0 
 
134 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 on his own work in my soul, and, by all the dis- 
 pensations of his grace and providence, to in- 
 crease my knowledge of him and of myself. 
 
 When I was fixed in a house, and found my 
 business would afford me much leisure time, I 
 considered in what manner I should improve it. 
 And now, having reason to close with the apos- 
 tle's determination, ft to know nothing but Jesus 
 Christ and him crucified," I devoted my life to 
 the prosecution of spiritual knowledge, and re- 
 solved to pursue nothing but in subservience to 
 this main design. This resolution divorced me 
 (as I have already hinted) from the classics and 
 mathematics. My first attempt was to learn so 
 much Greek as would enable me to understand 
 the New Testament and Septuagint : and when 
 I had made some progress this way, I entered 
 upon the Hebrew the following year ; and two 
 years afterward, having surmised some advan- 
 tages from the Syriac version, I began with that 
 language. You must not think that I have attain- 
 ed, or ever aimed at, a critical skill in any of 
 these: I had no business with them, but as in 
 reference to something else. I never read one 
 classic author in the Greek ;. I thought it too late 
 in life to take such a round in this language as I 
 had done in the Latin. I only wanted the signi- 
 fication of scriptural words and phrases ; and for 
 this I thought I might avail myself of Scapula, 
 
RESIDENCE AT LIVERPOOL. 
 
 135 
 
 he Synopsis, and others, who had sustained the 
 Irudgery before me. In the Hebrew I can read 
 .he historical books and psalms with tolerable 
 3ase ; but in the prophetical and difficult parts I 
 im frequently obliged to have recourse to lexi- 
 ons, <fec. However, I know so much as to be 
 ible, with such helps as are at hand, to judge for 
 nyself the meaning of any passage I have occa- 
 sion to consult. Beyond this I do not think of 
 iroceeding, if I can find better employment ; for 
 L would rather be some way useful to others, than 
 lie with the reputation of an eminent linguist. 
 
 Together with these studies I have kept up a 
 course of reading of the best writers in divinity 
 ;hat have come to my hand, in the Latin and 
 English tongues, and some French (for I picked 
 ip the French at times while I used the sea.) 
 But within these two or three years I have 
 iccustomed myself chiefly to writing, and have 
 lot found time to read many books beside the 
 Scriptures. 
 
 I am the more particular in this account, as 
 my case has been something singular ; for in all 
 my literary attempts I have been obliged to strike 
 □ut my own path, by the light I could acquire 
 from books, as I have not had a teacher or assist- 
 ant since I was ten years of age. 
 
 One word concerning my views to the ministry, 
 and I have done. I have told you that this was 
 
136 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 my dear mother's hope concerning me; but her 
 death, and the scenes of life in which I afterward 
 engaged, seemed to cut off the probability. The 
 first desires of this sort in my own mind arose 
 many years ago, from a reflection on Gal. 1 : 23, 
 24, w But they had heard only, that he which per- 
 secuted us in times past, now preached the faith 
 which once he destroyed. And they glorified 
 God in me." I could not but wish for such a 
 public opportunity to testify the riches of divine 
 grace. I thought I was, above most living, a fit 
 person to proclaim that faithful saying, u That 
 Jesus Christ came into the. world to save the 
 chief of sinners;" and as my life had been full of 
 remarkable turns, and I seemed selected to show 
 what the Lord could do, I was in some hopes 
 that perhaps, sooner or later, he might call me 
 into his service. 
 
 I believe it was a distant hope of this that de- 
 termined me to study the original Scriptures; 
 but it remained an imperfect desire in my own 
 breast, till it was recommended to me by some 
 christian friends. I started at the thought when 
 first seriously proposed to me ; but afterward sei 
 apart some weeks to consider the case, to con- 
 sult my friends, and to entreat the Lord's direc 
 tion. The judgment of my friends, and man} 
 things that occurred, tended to engage me. M) 
 first thought was to join the Dissenters, from i 
 
RESIDENCE AT LIVERPOOL. 
 
 137 
 
 presumption that I could not honestly make the 
 required subscriptions: but Mr. C , in a con- 
 versation upon these points, moderated my scru- 
 ples ; and preferring the Established Church in 
 some other respects, I accepted a title from him 
 some months afterward, and solicited ordination 
 from the late Archbishop of York. I need not 
 tell you I met a refusal, nor what steps I took af- 
 terward to succeed elsewhere. At present (1763) 
 I desist from my applications. My desire to 
 serve the Lord is not weakened ; but I am not so 
 hasty to push myself forward as I was formerly. 
 It is sufficient that he knows how to dispose of 
 me, and that he both can and will do what is 
 best. To him I commend myself ; I trust that his 
 will and my true interest are inseparable. To his 
 name be glory for ever. And thus I conclude my 
 story, and presume you will acknowledge I have 
 been particular enough. 
 
 12* 
 
138 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 CONTINUATION OF THE MEMOIR 
 BY REV. RICHARD CECIL- 
 
 Employment at Liverpool. — Ministerial Labors at Olney six- 
 teen years. — Acquaintance with J. Thornton, Esq. the poet 
 Cowper and Dr. Scott. — Publications at Olney. — Removal 
 to St. Mary Woolnoth, London, 1779. — Acquaintance with 
 Dr. Buchanan. — Death of Mrs. Newton. — Fruitfulncss in 
 old age. — Death. 
 
 Mr. Manesty, who had long been a faithful and 
 generous friend of Mr. Newton, procured him 
 the place of tide-surveyor in the port of Liver- 
 pool. Mr. Newton gives the following account 
 of it : — " I entered upon business yesterday. I 
 find my duty is to attend the tides one week, and 
 visit the ships that arrive, and such as are in the 
 river ; and the other week to inspect the vessels 
 in the docks ; and thus alternately the year round 
 The latter is little more than a sinecure, but thu 
 former requires pretty constant attendance, both 
 by day and night. I have a good office, with firo 
 and candle, and fifty or sixty people under my 
 direction ; with a handsome six-oared boat and ? 
 cockswain to row me about in form." Letters to 
 a Wife, vol. 2. p. 7. 
 
 We cannot wonder that Mr. Newton latterly 
 retained a strong impression of a particular pro 
 
RESIDENCE AT LIVERPOOL. 139 
 
 i 
 
 vidence superintending and conducting the steps 
 of man, since he was so often reminded of it in 
 his own history. The following occurrence is 
 one of many instances : Mr. Newton, after his 
 reformation, was remarkable for his punctua- 
 lity ; I remember his often sitting with his watch 
 in his hand, lest he should fail in keeping his next 
 engagement. This exactness with respect to time, 
 it seems, was his habit while occupying his post 
 at Liverpool. One day, how r ever, some business 
 had so detained him that he came to his boat 
 much later than usual, to the surprise of those 
 who had observed his former punctuality. He 
 went out in the boat as heretofore to inspect a 
 ship, but the ship blew up just before he reached 
 her; it appears, that if he had left the sh^pre a 
 few minutes sooner, h& must have perishecf* with 
 the rest on board. 
 
 This anecdote I had from a clergyman, upon 
 whose word I can depend, who had been long on 
 intimate terms with Mr. Newton, and who had it 
 from Mr. Newton himself; the reason of its not 
 appearing in his letters from Liverpool to Mrs. 
 Newton, I can only suppose to be, his fearing to 
 alarm her with respect to the dangers of his sta- 
 tion. But another providential occurrence, which 
 he mentions in those letters, I shall transcribe. 
 
 " When I think of my settlement here, and the 
 manner of it, I see the appointment of Providence 
 
HO 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 so good and gracious, and such a plain answer 
 to my poor prayers, that I cannot but wonder and 
 adore. I think I have not yet told you, that my 
 
 immediate predecessor in office, Mr. C , had 
 
 not the least intention of resigning his place on 
 the occasion of his father's death ; though such 
 a report was spread about the town without his 
 knowledge, or rather in defiance of all he could 
 say to contradict it. Yet to this false report I 
 
 owe my situation. For it put Mr. M upon an 
 
 application to Mr. S , the member for the 
 
 town; and the very day he received the pro- 
 mise in my favor, Mr. C was found dead in his 
 
 bed, though he had been in company, and in per- 
 fect health the night before. If I mistake not, 
 the same messenger who brought the promise 
 carried back the news of the vacancy to Mr. 
 S , at Chester. About an hour after, the may- 
 or applied for a nephew of his ; but, though it 
 was only an hour or two, he was too late. Mr. 
 
 S had already written, and sent off the letter, 
 
 and I was appointed accordingly. These circum- 
 stances appear to me extraordinary, though of a 
 piece with many other parts of my singular his- 
 tory. And the more so, as by another mistake I 
 missed the land-waiter's place, which was my 
 first object, and which I now see would not have 
 suited us nearly so well. I thank God I can now 
 look through instruments and second causes, and 
 
TIEFL'iF.D ORDINATION. 
 
 HI 
 
 see his wisdom and goodness immediately con- 
 cerned in fixing my lot." 
 
 Mr. Newton having expressed, near the end of 
 his narrative, the motives which induced him to 
 aim at a regular appointment to the ministry in the 
 Church of England, and the refusal he met with 
 in his first making the attempt, the reader is far- 
 ther informed that, on Dec. 16, 1758, Mr. Newton 
 received a title to a curacy from the Rev. Mr. 
 
 C , and applied to the Archbishop of York, 
 
 Dr. Gilbert, for ordination. The Bishop of Ches- 
 ter having countersigned his testimonials, direct- 
 ed him to Dr. Newton, the archbishop's chaplain. 
 He was referred to the secretary, and received 
 the softest refusal imaginable. The secretary in- 
 formed him that he had f '' represented the matter to 
 the archbishop, but his Grace was inflexible in sup- 
 porting the rules and canons of the Church," &c. 
 
 Travelling to Loughborough, Mr. Newton stop- 
 ped at Welwyn, and sending a note to the cele- 
 brated Dr. Young, he received for answer, that 
 the doctor would be glad to see him. He found 
 the doctor's conversation agreeable, and to an- 
 swer his expectation respecting the author of the 
 Night Thoughts. The doctor likewise seemed 
 pleased with Mr. Newton. He approved Mr. New- 
 ton's design of entering the ministry, and said 
 many encouraging things upon the subject ; and 
 when he dismissed Mr. Newton, desired him never 
 
142 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 to pass near Welwyn without calling upon him 
 Mr. Newton, it seems, had made some smart 
 attempts at Liverpool, in a way of preaching or 
 expounding. Many wished him to engage more 
 at large in those ministerial employments, to 
 which his own mind was inclined ; and he thus 
 expresses his motives in a letter to Mrs. Newton, 
 in answer to the objections she had formed. 
 " The death of the late Rev. Mr. Jones, of St. 
 Savior's, has pressed this concern more closely 
 upon my mind. I fear it must be wrong, after 
 having so solemnly devoted myself to the Lord for 
 his service, to wear away my time, and bury my 
 talents in silence, (because I have been refused 
 orders in the Established Church,) after all the 
 great things he has done for me." 
 
 In a note annexed, he observes, that "the in- 
 fluence of his judicious and affectionate counsel- 
 lor moderated the zeal which dictated this letter, 
 written in the year 1762 ; that had it not been 
 for her, he should probably have been pre- 
 cluded from those important scenes of service 
 to which he was afterward appointed :" but, he 
 adds, " The exercises of my mind upon this 
 point, I believe, have not been peculiar to myself. 
 I have known several persons, sensible, pious, of 
 competent abilities, and cordially attached to the 
 established church ; who, being wearied out with 
 repeated refusals of ordination, and, perhaps, not 
 
ORDAINED AT OLNEY. 
 
 143 
 
 having the advantage of such an adviser as I had, 
 have at length struck into the itinerant path, or 
 settled among the dissenters. Some of these, yet 
 living, are men of respectable characters, and 
 useful in their ministry." 
 
 In the year 1764 Mr. Newton had the curacy 
 of Olney proposed to him, and was recommended 
 by Lord Dartmouth to Dr. Green, bishop of Lin- 
 coln ; of whose candor and tenderness he speaks 
 with much respect. The bishop admitted him as 
 a candidate for orders. " The examination," says 
 he, ''lasted about an hour, chiefly upon the prin- 
 cipal heads of divinity. As I resolved not to be 
 charged hereafter with dissimulation, I was con- 
 strained to differ from his lordship in some points ; 
 but he was not offended: he declared himself 
 satisfied, and has promised to ordain me either 
 next Sunday, in town, or the Sunday following, 
 at Buckden. Let us praise the Lord." 
 
 Air. Newton was ordained deacon at Buckden, 
 April 29, 1764-, and priest in June, the following 
 year. In the parish of Olney he found many who 
 not only had evangelical views of the truth, but 
 had long walked in the light and experience of 
 it. The vicarage was in the gift of the Earl of 
 Dartmouth, the nobleman to whom Mr. Newton 
 addressed the first twenty-six letters in his Car- 
 diphonia. The earl was a man of real piety and 
 most amiable disposition: he had formerly ap- 
 
14-1 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 pointed the Rev. Moses Brown, vicar of Olney. 
 Mr. Brown was an evangelical minister, and a 
 good man j he had afforded wholesome instruc- 
 tion to the parishioners of Olney, and had been 
 the instrument of a sound conversion in many of 
 them. He was the author of a poem, entitled 
 Sunday Thoughts; a translation of Professor 
 Zimmermann's Excellency of the Knowledge of 
 Jesus Christ, &c. 
 
 But Mr. Brown had a numerous family, and 
 met with considerable trials in it ; he too much 
 resembled Eli in his indulgence of his children. 
 He was also under the pressure of pecuniary diffi- 
 culties, and had therefore accepted the chaplaincy 
 of Morden College, Blackheath, while vicar of Ol- 
 ney. Mr. Newton, in these circumstances, under- 
 took the curacy of Olney, in which he continued 
 nearly sixteen years, previous to his removal to 
 St. Mary Woolnoth, to which he was afterward 
 presented by the late John Thornton, Esq. 
 
 Mr. Newton was under the greatest obligations 
 to Mr. Thornton's friendship while at Olney, and 
 was enabled to extend his own usefulness by the 
 bounty of that extraordinary man. 
 
 It is said of Solomon, that the Lord gave him 
 largeness of heart, even as the sand on the sen 
 shore : such a peculiar disposition for whatever 
 was good or benevolent was also bestowed on 
 
ACQUAINTANCE WITH MR. THORNTON. 145 
 
 Mr. Thornton. He differed as much from rich 
 nen of ordinary bounty, as they do from others 
 vvho are parsimonious. Nor was this bounty the 
 esult of occasional impulse, like a summer 
 shower, violent and short: on the contrary, it 
 . proceeded like a river, pouring its waters through 
 .arious countries, copious and inexhaustible. 
 Nor could those obstructions of imposture and 
 ngratitude, which have often been advanced as 
 he cause of damming up other streams, prevent 
 ir retard the course of this. The generosity of 
 \Ir. Thornton, indeed, frequently met with such 
 linderances, and led him to increasing discrimina- 
 ion ; but the stream of his bounty never ceased to 
 lold its course. Deep, silent and overwhelming, 
 it still rolled on, nor ended even with his life. 
 
 But the fountain from whence this beneficence 
 lowed, and by which its permanency and direc- 
 tion were maintained, must not be concealed. 
 Mr. Thornton was a christian. Let no one, how- 
 ever, so mistake me here, as to suppose that I 
 mean nothing more by the term Christian, than 
 f he state of one, who convinced of the truth of 
 Revelation, gives assent to its doctrines — regu- 
 larly attends its ordinances — and maintains, ex- 
 ternally, a moral and religious deportment. Such 
 a one may have a name to live while he is dead: 
 he may have a form of godliness without the power 
 of it — he may even be found denying and ridi- 
 
 Newton. 13 
 
146 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTOX. 
 
 culing that power — till, at length, he can only be 
 convinced of his error at an infallible tribunal: 
 where a vHdow, who gives but a mite, or a publi- 
 can, who smites on his breast, shall be preferred 
 before him. 
 
 Mr. Thornton was a christian indeed ; that is, 
 he was alive to God by a spiritual regeneration. 
 With this God he was daily and earnestly trans- 
 acting that infinitely momentous affair, the salva- 
 tion of his own soul; and, next to that, the sal- 
 vation of the souls of others. Temperate in all 
 things, though mean in nothing, he made provi- 
 sion for doing good with his opulence : and seem- 
 ed to be most in his element when appropriating 
 a considerable part of his large income to the ne- 
 cessities of others. 
 
 But Mr. Thornton possessed that discrimina- 
 tion in his attempts to serve his fellow-creatures, 
 which distinguishes an enlightened mind. He 
 habitually contemplated man, as one who has not 
 only a body, subject to want, affliction and deathi 
 but a spirit also, which is immortal, and must be 
 happy or miserable for ever. He felt, therefore, 
 that the noblest exertions of charity are those 
 which are directed to the relief of the noblesl 
 part of our frame. Accordingly he left no mode 
 of exertion untried to relieve man under his na- 
 tural ignorance and depravity. To this end, h« 
 purchased advowsons and presentations, with z 
 
ACQUAINTANCE WITH M R . THORNTON. 14-7 
 
 iew to place in parishes the most enlightened, 
 ictive and useful ministers. He employed the ex- 
 ensive commerce in which he was engaged, as 
 t powerful instrument for conveying immense 
 i [uantities of Bibles, prayer-books, and other most 
 liseful publications, to every place visited by our 
 I rade. He printed at his own sole expense, large 
 Editions of the latter for that purpose , and it may 
 f safely be affirmed, that there is scarcely a part 
 pf the known world, where such books could be 
 i ntroduced, which did not feel the salutary in- 
 luence of this single individual. Nor was Mr. 
 Thornton limited in his views of promoting the 
 unterests of real religion, with what sect soever 
 nit was connected. He stood ready to assist a be- 
 neficial design in every party, but would be the 
 creature of none. General good was his object : 
 md, wherever or however it made its way, his 
 maxim seemed constantly to be, Valeat quantum 
 valere potest* 
 
 But the nature and extent of his liberality will 
 be greatly misconceived, if any one should sup- 
 pose it confined to moral and religious objects, 
 though here were the grandest and most com- 
 prehensive exertions of it. Mr. Thornton was a 
 philanthropist on the largest scale — the friend of 
 man, under all his wants. His manner of reliev- 
 ing his fellow-men was princely. Instances might 
 
 * Be it as useful as possible. 
 
148 
 
 LIFE OF EE V. JOHN NEWTOISf. 
 
 be mentioned of it, were it proper to particu- 
 larize, which would surprise those who did not 
 know Mr. Thornton. They were so much out of 
 ordinary course and expectation, that I know 
 some, who felt it their duty to inquire of him, 
 whether the sum they had received was sent by 
 his intention or by mistake. To this may be add- 
 ed, that the manner of presenting- his gifts was as 
 delicate and concealed as the measure was large. 
 
 Besides this constant course of private dona- 
 tions, there was scarcely a public charity, or oc- 
 casion of relief to the ignorant or necessitous, 
 which did not meet with his distinguished sup- 
 port. His only question was, " May the miseries 
 of man in any measure be removed or alleviated V r 
 Nor was he merely distinguished by stretching 
 out a liberal hand : his benevolent heart was so 
 intent on doing good, that he was ever inventing 
 and promoting plans for its diffusion at home or 
 abroad. 
 
 He who wisely desires any end, will as wisely 
 regard the means. In* this, Mr. Thornton was 
 perfectly consistent. In order to execute his be- 
 neficent designs, he observed frugality and ex- 
 actness in his personal expenses. By such pros- 
 pective methods he was able to extend the influ- 
 ence of his fortune far beyond those who, in still 
 more elevated stations, are slaves to expensive 
 habits. Such men meanly pace in the trammels- 
 
ACQUAINTANCE WITH MR. THORNTON. 119 
 
 >f the tyrant custom, till it leaves them scarcely 
 ■tiough to preserve their conscience, or even 
 heir credit 5 much less to employ their talents 
 a Mr. Thornton's nobler pursuits. He, however, 
 "ould afford to be generous, and while he was ge- 
 lerous, did not forget his duty in being just. He 
 tnade ample provision for his children : and though, 
 while they are living, it would be indelicate to say 
 more, I am sure of speaking truth, when I say 
 they are so far from thinking themselves impover- 
 ished by the bounty of their father, that they con- 
 emplate with the highest satisfaction the fruit of 
 :hose benefits to society which he planted — which 
 t may be trusted will extend with time itself — and 
 which, after his example, they still labor to extend. 
 
 But, with all the piety and liberality of this ho- 
 nored character, no man had deeper views of his 
 own unworthiness before his God. To the Re- 
 deemer's work alone he looked for acceptance 
 of his person and services : he felt that all he did, 
 or could do, was infinitely short of that which 
 had been done for him, and of the obligations 
 that were thereby laid upon him. It was this 
 ibasedness of heart toward God, combined with 
 the most singular largeness of heart toward his fel- 
 low-creatures, which distinguished John Thorn- 
 ion among men. 
 
 To this common patron of every useful and 
 pious endeavor, Mr. Newton sent the ' f Narrative " 
 13* 
 
150 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 inserted in the former part of these memoirs, 
 Mr. Thornton replied in his usual manner, that 
 is, by accompanying his letter with a valuable 
 bank note ; and, some months after he paid Mr. 
 Newton a visit at Olney. A closer connection 
 being now formed between friends who employed 
 their distinct talents in promoting the same be- 
 nevolent cause, Mr. Thornton left a sum of mo- 
 ney with Mr. Newton to be appropriated to the 
 defraying of his necessary expenses, and the re- 
 lief of the poor. fr Be hospitable," said Mr. Thorn- 
 ton, w and keep an open house for such as are 
 worthy of entertainment. Help the poor and 
 needy. I will statedly allow you 200/. a year, and 
 readily send whatever you have occasion to draw 
 for more." Mr. Newton told me, that he thought 
 he had received of Mr. Thornton upward of 3000/. 
 in this way during the time he resided at Olney. 
 
 The case of most ministers is peculiar, in this 
 respect. Some among them may be looked up 
 to, on account of their publicity and talents: 
 they may have made great sacrifices of their per- 
 sonal interest, in order to enter on their ministry, 
 and may be possessed of the warmest benevo- 
 lence ; but, from the narrowness of their pecu- 
 niary circumstances, and from the largeness of 
 their families, they often perceive that an ordi- 
 nary tradesman in their parishes can subscribe 
 to a charitable or popular institution much more 
 
ACQUAINTANCE WITH COWPER. 151 
 
 liberally than themselves. This would have been 
 Mr. Newton's case, but for the above-mentioned 
 singular patronage. 
 
 A minister, however, should not be so forget- 
 ful of his dispensation as to repine at his want 
 of power in this respect. He might as justly es- 
 timate his deficiency by the strength of the lion, 
 or the flight of the eagle. The power communi- 
 cated to him is of another kind : and power of 
 every kind belongs to God, who gives gifts to 
 every man severally as he will. The two mites 
 of the widow were all the power of that kind 
 which was communicated to her ; and he** be- 
 stowment of her two mites was better accepted 
 than the large offerings of the rich man. The 
 powers, therefore, of Mr. Thornton and of Mr. 
 Newton, though of a different order, were both 
 consecrated to God: and each might have said, 
 Of thine own have we given thee. 
 
 Providence seems to have appointed Mr. New- 
 ton's residence at Olney, among other reasons, 
 for the relief of the depressed mind of the poet 
 Cowper. There has gone forth an unfounded re- 
 port, that the deplorable melancholy of Cowper 
 was, in part, derived from his residence and con- 
 1 nections in that place. The fact, however, is the 
 reverse of this : and, as it may be of importance 
 to the interests of true religion to prevent such 
 
152 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 a misrepresentation from taking root, I will pre- 
 sent the real state of the case, as I have found it 
 attested by the most respectable living witnesses ; 
 and, more especially, as confirmed by a MS. writ- 
 ten by the poet himself, at the calmest period of 
 his life, with the perusal of which I was favored 
 by Mr. Newton. 
 
 It most evidently appears that symptoms of 
 .Mr. Cowper's morbid state began to discover 
 themselves in his earliest youth. He seems to 
 have been at all times disordered, in a greater or 
 less degree. He was sent to Westminster school 
 at the age of nine years, and long endured the 
 tyranny of an elder boy, of which he gives an af- 
 fecting account in the paper above-mentioned ; 
 and which ,f produced," as one of his biographers 
 observes, who had long intimacy with him, ?f an 
 indelible effect upon his mind through life." A per- 
 son so naturally bashful and depressed as Cow- 
 per, must needs find the profession of a barrister 
 a further occasion of anxiety. The post obtained 
 for him by his friends in the house of lords over- 
 whelmed him : and the remonstrances w T hich 
 those friends made against his relinquishing so 
 honorable and lucrative an appointment, (but 
 which soon after actually took place,) greatly 
 increased the anguish of a man already inca- 
 pacitated for business. To all this w r ere added 
 events, which, of themselves, have been found 
 
ACQUAINTANCE WITH COWPEEt 
 
 153 
 
 ufficient to overset the strongest minds : name- 
 y, the decease of his particular friend and inti- 
 nate, Sir William Kussel ; and his meeting with 
 . disappointment in obtaining a lady upon whom 
 lis affections were placed. 
 
 But the state of a person, torn and depressed 
 not by his religious connections, but) by adverse 
 •ircumstances, and these meeting a naturally 
 norbid sensibility, long before he knew Olney, or 
 iad formed any connection with its inhabitants, 
 vill best appear from some verses which he sent 
 it this time to one of his female relations, and 
 or the communication of which we are indebted 
 o Mr. Hay ley. 
 
 " Doom'd as I am, in solitude to waste 
 The present moments, and regret the past ; 
 Depriv'd of every joy I valued most, 
 My friend torn from me, and my mistress lost : 
 Call not this gloom I wear, this anxious mien, 
 The dull effect of humor or of spleen ! 
 Still, still I mourn with each returning day, 
 Him — snatch'd by fate, in early youth, away ; 
 And her, through tedious years of doubt and pain, 
 Fix'd in her choice, and faithful — but in vain. 
 See me — ere yet my destin'd course half done, 
 Cast forth a wand'rer on a wild unknown ! 
 See me, neglected on the world's rude coast, 
 Each dear companion of my voyage lost ! 
 Nor ask why clouds of sorrow shade my brow, 
 And ready tears wait only leave to flow ; 
 Why all that soothes a heart, from anguish free, 
 All that delights the happy — palls with me !" 
 
154. 
 
 LIFE or REV. JOHN NEWTOX. 
 
 Under such pressures, the melancholy and sus- 
 ceptible mind of Cowper received, from evange- 
 lical truth, the first consolation which it ever 
 tasted. It was under the care of Dr. Cotton, of 
 St. Albans, (a physician as capable of administer- 
 ing to the spiritual as to the natural maladies of 
 his patients,) that Mr. Cowper first obtained a 
 clear view of those sublime and animating doc- 
 trines which so distinguished and exalted his fu- 
 ture strains as a poet. Here, also, he received 
 that settled tranquillity and peace which he en- 
 joyed for several years afterwards. So far, there- 
 fore, was his constitutional malady from being 
 produced or increased by his evangelical con- 
 nections, either at St. Albans or at Olney, that he 
 seems never to have had any settled peace but 
 from the truths he learned in these societies, it 
 appears, that among them alone he found the 
 only sunshine he ever enjoyed through the 
 cloudy day of his afflicted life. 
 
 It appears, also, that, while at Dr. Cotton's, 
 Mr. Cowper's distress was for a long time en- 
 tirely removed, by marking that passage in Rom. 
 3, 25 : Him hath God set forth to be a propitiation, 
 through faith in his blood, to declare his righ- 
 teousness for the remission of sins that are past. In 
 this scripture he saw the remedy which God pro- 
 vides for the relief of a guilty conscience, with 
 such clearness, that for several years after his 
 
ACQUAINTANCE WITH COWfER. 
 
 155 
 
 heart was filled with love, and his life occupied 
 with prayer, praise, and doing good to his needy 
 fellow-creatures. 
 
 Mr. Newton told me, that, from Mr. Cowper's 
 first coming to Olney, it was observed he had 
 studied his Bible with such advantage, and was 
 so well acquainted with its design, that not only 
 his troubles were removed, but that, to the end of 
 his life, he never had clearer views of the peculiar 
 doctrines of the Gospel, than when he first became 
 an attendant upon them — that (short intervals 
 excepted) Mr. Cowper enjoyed a course of peace 
 for several successive years — that, during this 
 period, the inseparable attendants of a lively faith 
 appeared, by Mr. Cowper's exerting himself to 
 the utmost of his power in every benevolent ser- 
 vice he could render to his poor neighbors — and 
 that Mr. Newton used to consider him as a sort 
 of curate, from his constant attendance upon the 
 sick and afflicted in that large and necessitous 
 parish. 
 
 But. the malady, which seemed to be subdued 
 by the strong consolations of the Gospel, was 
 still latent j and only required some occasion of 
 irritation, to break out again, and overwhelm 
 the patient. Any object of constant attention 
 that shall occupy a mind previously disordered, 
 whether fear, or love, or science, or religion, 
 will not be so much the cause of the disease, as 
 
156 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 the accidental occasion of exciting it. Cowper's 
 letters will show us how much his mind was oc- 
 cupied at one time by the truths of the Bible, and 
 at another time by the fictions of Homer: but his 
 melancholy was originally a constitutional dis- 
 ease — a physical disorder, which, indeed, could 
 be affected either by the Bible or by Homer, but 
 was utterly distinct in its nature from the mere 
 matter of either. 
 
 And, here, I cannot but mark this necessary 
 distinction ; having often been witness to cases 
 where religion has been assigned as the proper 
 cause of insanity, when it has been only an acci- 
 dental occasion, in the case of one already affect- 
 ed. Thus Cow t per's malady, like a strong current 
 breaking down the banks which had hitherto sus- 
 tained the pressure and obliquity of its course, pre- 
 vailed against the supports he had received, and 
 precipitated him again into his former distress. 
 
 I inquired of Mr. Newton as to the manner in 
 w r hich Mr. Cowper's disorder returned, after aa 
 apparent recovery of nearly nine years' continu- 
 ance ; and was informed that the first symptoms 
 were discovered one morning in his conversation, 
 soon after he had undertaken a new engagement 
 in composition. 
 
 As a general and full account of this extraor- 
 dinary genius is already before the public, such 
 particulars would not have occupied so much 
 
ACQUAINTANCE WITH DR. SCOTT. 157 
 
 oom in these memoirs, but with a view of re- 
 aoving the false statements that have been made. 
 
 Of great importance also was the vicinity of 
 rlr. Newton's residence to that of the Kev. Thomas 
 >cott, then Curate of Ravenstone and Weston 
 Jnderwood, and afterwards Rector of Aston 
 >andford ; a man whose ministry and writings 
 ave since been so useful to mankind. This 
 lergyman was nearly a Socinian : he was in the 
 abit of ridiculing evangelical religion, and la- 
 ored to bring over Mr. Newton to his own senti- 
 ' lents. Mr. Scott had married a lady from the 
 imily of a Mr. Wright, a gentleman in his parish, 
 rho had promised to provide for him. But Mr. 
 cott's objections to subscription arose so high, 
 lat he informed his patron it would be in vain 
 3 attempt providing for him in the Church of 
 ingland ; as he could not conscientiously accept 
 ' living on the condition of subscribing its Litur- 
 y and Articles. " This," said Mr. Newton, tf gave 
 le hopes of Mr. Scott's being sincere, however 
 nrong in his principles." 
 
 But the benefit which Mr. Scott derived from 
 is neighbor will best appear in his own words. 
 
 5 I was," says he, " full of proud self-suffi- 
 | iency, very positive, and very obstinate : and, 
 eing situated in the neighborhood of some of 
 lose whom the world calls Methodists, I joined 
 
 Newton. 14 
 
158 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 in the prevailing sentiment ; held them in sove- 
 reign contempt; spoke of them with derision; 
 declaimed against them from the pulpit, as per- 
 sons full of bigotry, enthusiasm and spiritual 
 pride ; laid heavy things to their charge; and 
 endeavored to prove the doctrines which I sup- 
 posed them to hold (for I had never read their 
 books) to be dishonorable to God, and destruc- 
 tive of morality. And though, in some com- 
 panies, I chose to conceal part of my senti- 
 ments ; and, in all, affected to speak as a friend 
 to universal toleration ; yet scarcely any person 
 could be more proudly and violently prejudiced 
 against both their persons and principles than I 
 then was. 
 
 " In January, 1774-, two of my parishioners, a 
 man and his wife, lay at the point of death. I 
 had heard of the circumstance ; but, according to 
 my general custom, not being sent for, I took no 
 notice of it : till, one evening, the woman being 
 now dead, and the man dying, I heard that my 
 neighbor, Mr. Newton, had been several times tc 
 visit them. Immediately my conscience reproach- 
 ed me with being shamefully negligent, in sitting 
 at home, within a few doors of dying persons 
 my general hearers, and never going to visii 
 them. Directly it occurred to me, that, what 
 ever contempt I might have for Mr. Newton'. 
 doctrines, I must acknowledge his practice t( 
 
ACQUAINTANCE WITH DR. SCOTT. 159 
 
 more consistent with the ministerial charac- 
 r than my own. He must have more zeal and 
 ve for souls than I had, or he would not have 
 alked so far to visit, and supply my lack of care 
 y those who, as far as I was concerned, might 
 ave been left to perish in their sins. 
 
 This reflection affected me so much, that, 
 ithout delay, and very earnestly, yea with tears, 
 besought the Lord to forgive my past neg- 
 *ct ; and I resolved thenceforth to be more at- 
 mtive to this duty : which resolution, though at 
 rst formed in ignorant dependance on my own 
 rength, I have by divine grace been enabled 
 itherto to keep. I went immediately to visit the 
 irvivor ; and the affecting sight of one person 
 ready dead, and another expiring in the same 
 damber, .served more deeply to impress my se- 
 ous convictions. 
 
 "It was at this time that my correspondence 
 ith Mr. Newton commenced. At a visitation, 
 fay, 1775, we exchanged a few words on a con- 
 overted subject, in the room among the clergy, 
 hich I believe drew many eyes upon us. At 
 lat time he prudently declined the discourse ; 
 it, a day or two after, he sent me a short note, 
 ith a little book for my perusal. This was the 
 ?ry thing I wanted : and I gladly embraced the 
 pportunity which, according to my wishes, 
 ?emed now to offer ; God knoweth, with no in- 
 
160 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 considerable expectations that my arguments 
 would prove irresistibly convincing, and that I 
 should have the honor of rescuing a well-meaning 
 person from his enthusiastical delusions. 
 
 " I had, indeed, by this time conceived a very 
 favorable opinion of him, and a sort of respect 
 for him ; being acquainted with the character he 
 sustained even among some persons who ex- 
 pressed a disapprobation of his doctrines. They 
 were forward to commend him as a benevolent, 
 disinterested, inoffensive person, and a laborious 
 minister. But, on the other hand, I looked upon 
 his religious sentiments as rank fanaticism ; and 
 entertained a very contemptuous opinion of hi* 
 abilities, natural and acquired. Once I had had 
 the curiosity to hear him preach ; and, not un- 
 derstanding his sermon, I made a very great jes 
 of it, where I could do it without giving offence 
 I had also read one of his publications j but, fo 
 the same reason, I thought the greater part of i 
 whimsical, paradoxical and unintelligible. 
 
 " Concealing, therefore, the true motives ol 
 my conduct under the offer of friendship and ; 
 professed desire to know the truth, (which, a 
 midst all my self-sufficiency and prejudice, I trus 
 the Lord had even then given me,) with the great 
 est affectation of candor, and of a mind open t< 
 conviction, I wrote him a long letter ; purposinj 
 to draw from him such an avowal and explanatio; 
 
ACQUAINTANCE U'iTH DR. SCOTT. 
 
 161 
 
 his sentiments as might introduce a contro- 
 versial discussion of our religious differences. 
 
 ,f The event by no means answered my expec- 
 ation. He returned a very friendly and long an- 
 =\ver to my letter ; in which he carefully avoided 
 he mention of those doctrines which he knew 
 voukl offend me. He declared that he believed 
 ne to be one who feared God, and was under the 
 caching of his Holy Spirit 5 that he gladly ac- 
 •eptcd my offer of friendship, and was nowise in- 
 clined to dictate to me : but that, leaving me to 
 he guidance of the Lord, he would be glad, as 
 >ccasion served, from time to time, to bear tes- 
 imony to the truths of the Gospel ; and to com- 
 nunicate his sentiments to me on any subject, 
 vith all the confidence of friendship. 
 
 "In this manner our correspondence* began : 
 and it was continued, in the interchange of nine 
 >r ten letters, till December in the same year. 
 Throughout I held my purpose, and he his. I 
 nade use of every endeavor to draw him into 
 controversy, and rilled my letters with defini- 
 ions, inquiries, arguments, objections and consc- 
 iences, requiring explicit answers. He, on the 
 >ther hand, shunned everything controversial as 
 nuch as possible, and filled his letters with the 
 nost useful and least offensive instructions : ex- 
 ept that, now and then, he dropped his hints 
 concerning the necessity, the true nature, and 
 
162 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 the efficacy of faith, and the manner in which it 
 was to be sought and obtained ; and concerning 
 some other matters, suited, as he judged, to help 
 me forward in my inquiry after truth. But they 
 much offended my prejudices, afforded me matter 
 of disputation, and at that time were of little use 
 to me. 
 
 " When I had made this little progress in seek- 
 ing the truth, my acquaintance with Mr. Newton 
 was resumed. From the conclusion of our cor- 
 respondence, in December, 1775, till April, 1777, 
 it had been almost wholly dropped. To speak 
 plainly, I did not care for his company : I did not 
 mean to make any use of him as an instructor; 
 and I was unwilling the world should think us in 
 any way connected. But, under discouraging cir- 
 cumstances, I had occasion to call upon him j and 
 his discourse so comforted and edified me, that 
 my heart, being by his means relieved from its 
 burden, became susceptible of affection for him. 
 From that time I was inwardly pleased to have 
 him for my friend j though not, as now, rejoiced 
 to call him so. I had, however, even at that time, 
 no thoughts of learning doctrinal truth from him, 
 and was ashamed to be detected in his company ; 
 but I sometimes stole away to spend an hour with 
 him. About the same period I once heard him 
 preach, but still it was foolishness to me ; his ser- 
 mon being principally upon the believer's expe- 
 
ACQUAINTANCE WITH DK. SCOTT. 
 
 163 
 
 rience, in some particulars, with which I was un- 
 acquainted. So that, though I loved and valued 
 him, I considered him as a person misled by 
 enthusiastical notions; and strenuously insisted 
 that we should never think alike till we met in 
 heaven."* 
 
 .Mr. Scott, after going on to particularize his 
 progress in the discovery of truth, and the cha- 
 racter of Mr. Newton, as its minister, afterward 
 adds : 
 
 " The pride of reasoning, and the conceit of 
 superior discernment, had all along accompanied 
 me : and, though somewhat broken, had yet con- 
 siderable influence. Hitherto, therefore, I had 
 not thought of hearing any person preach ; be- 
 cause I did not think any one in the circle of my 
 acquaintance capable of giving me such informa- 
 tion as I wanted. But, being at length convinced 
 that Mr. Newton had been right, and that I had 
 been mistaken, in the several particulars in which 
 we had differed, it occurred to me, that, having 
 preached these doctrines so long, he must un- 
 derstand many things concerning them to which 
 I was a stranger. Now, therefore, though not 
 without much remaining prejudice, and not less 
 in the character of a judge than of a scholar, I 
 
 * Scott's Force of Truth. 
 
164. 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 condescended to be his hearer, and occasionally 
 to attend his preaching, and that of some other 
 ministers. I soon perceived the benefit ; for, from 
 time to time the secrets of my heart were dis- 
 covered to me, far beyond what I had hitherto 
 noticed ; and I seldom returned from hearing a 
 sermon, without having conceived a meaner opi- 
 nion of myself — without having attained to a fur- 
 ther acquaintance with my deficiencies, weak- 
 nesses, corruptions and wants — or without being 
 supplied with fresh matter for prayer, and di- 
 rected to greater watchfulness. I likewise learned 
 the use of experience in preaching ; and was con- 
 vinced, that the readiest way to reach the hearts 
 and consciences of others, was to speak from my 
 own. In short, I gradually saw more and more 
 my need of instruction, and was at length brought 
 to consider myself as a very novice in religious 
 matters. Thus I began experimentally to per- 
 ceive our Lord's meaning, when he says, Except 
 ye receive the kingdom of heaven as a little child 
 ye shall in no wise enter therein." 
 
 In the year 1776 Mr. Newton was afflicted with 
 a tumor or wen, which had formed on his thigh; 
 and, on account of its growing more large and 
 troublesome, he resolved to undergo the experi- 
 ment of extirpation. This obliged him to go to 
 London for the operation, which was success 
 
MINISTRY AT OLNEY. 
 
 165 
 
 fully performed, October 10, by the late Mr. 
 Warner, of Guy's hospital. I remember hearing 
 him speak several years afterward of this trying 
 occasion ; but the trial did not seem to have 
 affected him as a painful operation, so much as a 
 critical opportunity in which he might fail in de* 
 monstrating the patience of a christian under 
 pain. "I felt," said he, ''that being enabled to 
 bear a very sharp operation with tolerable calm- 
 ness and confidence, was a greater favor granted 
 to me than the deliverance from my malady."* 
 While Mr. Xewton thus continued faithfully 
 discharging the duties of his station, and watch- 
 ing for the temporal and eternal welfare of his 
 
 * His reflections upon the occasion, in his diary, are as 
 follow: — : - Thou didst support me. and make this operation 
 very tolerable. The cure, by thy blessing, was happily ex- 
 pedited: so that on Sunday, the 27th, I was enabled to go 
 
 to church and hear Mr. F , and the following Sunday 
 
 to preach for him. The tenderness and attention of Dr. and 
 Mrs. F , with whom we were, I cannot sufficienilv de- 
 scribe: nor, indeed, the kindness of many other friends. 
 To them I would be thankful, my Lord, but especially to 
 thee; for what are creatures but instruments in thy hand, 
 fulfilling thy pleasure 1 At home all was preserved quiet, 
 and I met with no incident to distress or disturb me while 
 absent. The last fortnight I preached often, and was hur- 
 ried about in seeing my friends. But though I had little 
 leisure or opportunity for retirement, and my heart, alas ! 
 as usual was sadly reluctant and dull in secret, yet, in pub- 
 lic thou wert pleased to favor me with liberty.'" 
 
166 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTOX. 
 
 flock, a dreadful fire broke out at Olney, October, 
 1777. Mr. Newton took an active part in com- 
 forting and relieving the sufferers ; he collected 
 upward of £200 for them ; a considerable sum 
 of money, when the poverty and late calamity 
 of the place are considered. Such instances of 
 benevolence toward the people, with the constant 
 assistance he afforded the poor, by the help of 
 Mr. Thornton, naturally led him to expect that 
 he should have so much influence as to restrain 
 gross licentiousness on particular occasions. 
 But to use his own expression, he had ff lived to 
 bury the old crop, on which any dependance 
 could be placed." He preached a weekly lecture, 
 which occurred that year on the 5th of Novem- 
 ber ; and, as he feared that the usual way of ce- 
 lebrating it at Olney might endanger his hearers 
 in their attendance at the church, he exerted 
 himself to preserve some degree of quiet on that 
 evening. Instead, however, of hearkening to his 
 entreaties, the looser sort exceeded their former 
 extravagance, drunkenness and rioting, and even 
 obliged him to send out money, to preserve his 
 house from violence. This happened but a year 
 before he finally left Olney. When he related 
 this occurrence to me, he added that he believed 
 he should never have left the place while he 
 lived, had not so incorrigible a spirit prevailed 
 in a parish he had long labored to reform. 
 
MINISTRY AT OLNEV. 
 
 167 
 
 But I must remark here, that this is no so- 
 litary fact, nor at all unaccountable. The Gos- 
 pel, we are informed, is not merely tf a savor of 
 life unto life," but also M of death unto death." 
 Those whom it does not soften it is often found 
 to harden. Thus we find St. Paul M went into 
 the synagogue and spake boldly for the space 
 of three months, disputing and persuading the 
 things concerning the kingdom of God. But 
 when divers were hardened, and believed not, 
 but spake evil of that way before the multitude, 
 he departed from them." 
 
 " The strong man armed " seeks to keep his 
 "house and goods in peace," and if a minister is 
 disposed to let this sleep of death remain, that 
 minister's own house and goods may be permit- 
 ted to remain in peace also. Such a minister 
 may be esteemed by his parish as a good kind of 
 man — quiet, inoffensive, candid, &c. ; and if he 
 discovers any zeal, it is directed to keep the pa- 
 rish in the state he found it ; that is, in ignorance 
 and unbelief, worldly-minded, and hard-hearted; 
 the very state of peace in which the strong man 
 armed seeks to keep his palace or citadel, the 
 human heart. 
 
 But if a minister, like the subject of these Me- 
 moirs, enters into the design of his commission 
 — if he be alive to the interest of his own soul, 
 and that of the souls committed to his charge ; 
 
168 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 or, as the apostle expresses it, " to save himself 
 and those that hear him," he may depend upon 
 meeting, in his own experience, the truths of that 
 declaration, "Yea, all that will live godly in 
 Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution," in one 
 form of it or another. One of the most melan- 
 choly sights we behold is when professed chris- 
 tians, through prejudice, join the world in throw- 
 ing the stone. There is, however, such a deter- 
 mined enmity to godliness itself in the breast of 
 a certain class of men existing in most parishes, 
 that, whatever learning and good sense is found 
 in their teacher — whatever consistency of charac- 
 ter, or blameless deportment he exhibits ; what- 
 ever benevolence or bounty (like that which Mr 
 Newton exercised at Olney) may constantly ap- 
 pear in his character ; such men remain irrecon- 
 cilable. They will resist every attempt made to 
 appease their enmity. God alone, who changed 
 the hearts of Paul and Newton, can heal these 
 bitter waters. 
 
 I recollect to have heard Mr. Newton say on 
 such an occasion, "When God is about to per- 
 form any great work, he generally permits some 
 great opposition to it. Suppose Pharaoh had 
 acquiesced in the departure of the children of 
 Israel, or that they had met with no difficulties 
 in the way, they would, indeed, have passed from 
 Egypt to Canaan with ease ; but they, as well as 
 
MINISTRY AT QLNBT. 
 
 169 
 
 the church in all future ages, would have been 
 great losers. The wonder-working God would 
 not have been seen in those extremities which 
 make his arm so visible. A smooth passage here 
 would have made but a poor story." 
 
 But under such disorders, Mr. Newton, in no 
 one instance that I ever heard of, was tempted to 
 depart from the line marked out by the precept 
 and example of his Master. He continued to 
 rf bless them that persecuted him," knowing that 
 "the servant of the Lord must not strive, but be 
 gentle unto all men, apt to teach, patient." To 
 the last day he spent among them he went 
 straight forward, " in meekness instructing those 
 that opposed, if God peradventure might give 
 them repentance to the acknowledging the truth." 
 
 But, before we take a final leave of Olney, the 
 reader must be informed of another part of Mr. 
 Xcwton's labors. He had published a volume of 
 sermons before he took orders, dated Liverpool, 
 January 1, 1760. In 1762 he published his Omi- 
 cron, to which his letters, signed Vigil, were af- 
 terward annexed. In 1764 appeared his narrative. 
 In 1767 a volume of Sermons, preached at Olney. 
 In 1769 his Review of Ecclesiastical History, 
 ind, in 1779, a volume of Hymns, of which some 
 vvere composed by Mr. Cowper, and distinguished 
 ly the letter C prefixed to them. To these suc- 
 ;eeded, in 1781, his valuable work, Cardiphonia. 
 
 Newtou. 1 f% 
 
170 
 
 LIFE OP REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 From Olney Mr. Newton was removed to the 
 rectory of the united parishes of St. Mary Wool- 
 noth and St. Mary Woolchurch Haw, Lombard- 
 street, on the presentation of his friend, Mr. 
 Thornton. 
 
 Some difficulty arose on Mr. Newton's being 
 presented, from Mr. Thornton's right of presen- 
 tation being claimed by a nobleman j the ques- 
 tion was, therefore, at length brought before the 
 house of lords, and determined in favor of Mr. 
 Thornton. Mr. Newton preached his first ser- 
 mon in these parishes, December 19, 1779, from 
 Eph. 4 : 15, " Speaking the truth in love." It con- 
 tained an affectionate address to his parishioners, 
 and was directly published for their use. 
 
 Here a new and very distinct scene of action 
 and usefulness was set before him. Placed in the 
 centre of London,, in an opulent neighborhood, 
 with connections daily increasing, he had now a 
 course of service to pursue, in several respects 
 different from his farmer at Olney. Being, how- 
 ever, well acquainted with the word of God and 
 the heart of man, he proposed to himself no new 
 weapons of warfare for pulling down the strong- 
 holds of sin and Satan around him. He per- 
 ceived, indeed, most of hjs parishioners too in- 
 tent upon their wealth and merchandise to pay 
 much regard to their new minister ; but, since 
 they would not come to him, he was determined 
 
MINISTRY AT LONDON. 
 
 171 
 
 ) go, as far as he could, to them ; and, there- 
 >re, soon after his institution he sent a printed 
 idress to his parishioners : he afterward sent 
 lem another address, on the usual prejudices 
 lat are taken up against the Gospel. What ef- 
 ;cts these attempts had then upon them does 
 ot appear ; certain it is, that these and other 
 cts of his ministry will be recollected by them 
 hen the objects of their present pursuits are 
 jrgotten or lamented. 
 
 I have heard Mr. Newton speak with great 
 ieling on the circumstances of his last import- 
 nt station. " That one," said he, " of the most 
 rnorant, the most miserable, and the most aban- 
 oned of slaves, should be plucked from his for- 
 )rn state of exile on the coast of Africa, and at 
 mgth be appointed minister of the parish of the 
 rst magistrate of the first city in the world ; 
 hat he should there not only testify of such 
 race, but stand up as a singular instance and 
 lonument of it ; that he should be enabled to 
 ecord it in his history, preaching and writings, 
 o the world at large — is a fact I can contem- 
 late with admiration, but never sufficiently esti- 
 late." This reflection, indeed, was so present 
 o his mind on all occasions and in all places, 
 hat he seldom passed a single day any where 
 >ut he was found referring to the strange event, 
 n one way or other. 
 
172 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 "When Mr. Newton came to London he resided 
 .for some time in Charles' Square, Hoxton ; after- 
 ward he removed to Coleman-street Buildings, 
 where he continued till his death. Being of the 
 most friendly and communicative disposition, his 
 house was open to christians of all ranks and de- 
 nominations. Here, like a father among his chil- 
 dren, he used to entertain, encourage and in- 
 struct his friends, especially younger ministers, 
 or candidates for the ministry. Here also the 
 poor, the afflicted and the tempted, found an asy- 
 lum and a sympathy which they could scarce- 
 ly find, in an equal degree, any where besides. 
 
 His timely hints were often given with much 
 point and profitable address to the numerous ac- 
 quaintance who surrounded him in his public sta- 
 tion. Some time after Mr. Newton had published 
 his Omicron, and described the three stages of 
 growth in religion, from the blade, the ear, and 
 the full corn in the ear, distinguishing them by 
 the letters A, B, and C, a conceited young minis- 
 ter wrote to Mr. Newton, telling him that he 
 read his own character accurately drawn in that 
 of C. Mr. Newton wrote in reply, that "in draw- 
 ing the character of C, or full maturity, he had 
 forgotten to add, till now, one prominent feature 
 of C's character, namely, that C never knew his 
 own face." 
 
 "It grieves me," said Mr. Newton, "to see so 
 
MINISTRY IN LONDON. 173 
 
 <3W of my wealthy parishioners come to church, 
 always consider the rich as under greater obli- 
 ations to the preaching of the Gospel than the 
 oor. For at church the rich must hear the 
 rhole truth as well as others. There they have 
 o mode of escape. But let them once get home, 
 ou will be troubled to get at them ; and, when 
 ou are admitted, you are so fettered with punc- 
 ilio, so interrupted and damped with the frivol- 
 us conversation of their friends, that, as Arch- 
 ishop Leighton says, ' it is well if your visit 
 oes not prove a blank or a blot.' " 
 
 Mr. Newton used to improve every occurrence 
 rhich he could with propriety bring into the 
 ulpit. One night he found a bill put up at St. 
 Iary Woolnoth's, upon which he largely com- 
 lented when he came to preach. The bill was 
 3 this effect : rf A young man having come to 
 he possession of a very considerable fortune, 
 esires the prayers of the congregation that he 
 lay be preserved from the snares to which it ex- 
 oses him." " Now, if the man," said Mr. New- 
 on, " had lost a fortune, the world would not 
 ave wondered to have seen him put up a bill, 
 ut this man has been better taught." 
 
 Coming out of his church on a Wednesday, a 
 ady stopped him on the steps, and said, f ' The 
 icket, of which I held a quarter, is drawn a prize 
 >f ten thousand pounds. I know you will con- 
 
 15* 
 
174 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 gratulate me upon the occasion." " Madam," 
 said he, M as for a friend under temptation, I will 
 endeavor to pray for you." 
 
 Soon after he came to St. Mary's I remember 
 to have heard him say, in a certain company, 
 r ' Some have observed that I preach shorter ser- 
 mons on a Sunday morning, and with more cau- 
 tion j but this I do upon principle. I suppose I 
 may have two or three of my bankers present, 
 and some others of my parish, who have hitherto 
 been strangers to my views of truth. I endeavor 
 to imitate the apostle. f I became,' says he, 1 all 
 things to all men ;' but observe the end, it was 
 in order to f gain some.' The fowler must go 
 cautiously to meet shy birds, but he will not 
 leave his powder and shot behind him. r I have 
 fed you with milk,' says the apostle ; but there 
 are some that are not only for forcing strong 
 meat, but bones too, down the throat of the 
 child. We must have patience with a single step 
 in the case of an infant ; and there are one-step 
 books and sermons, which are good in their 
 place. Christ taught his disciples as they were 
 able to bear ; and it was upon the same principle 
 that the apostle accommodated himself to preju- 
 dice. Now," continued he, " what I wish to re-, 
 mark on these considerations is, that this apos- 
 tolical principle, steadily pursued, will render a 
 minister apparently inconsistent j superficial hear- 
 
p MINISTRY IN LONDON. 175 
 
 ers will think him a trimmer. On the other hand, 
 a minister, destitute of the apostolical principle 
 and intention, and directing his whole force to 
 preserve the appearance of consistency, may 
 thus seem to preserve it ; but, let me tell you, 
 here is only the form of faithfulness without the 
 spirit." 
 
 I could not help observing, one day, how much 
 Mr. Newton was grieved with the mistake of a 
 minister who appeared to pay too much atten- 
 tion to politics. " For my part," said he, " I 
 have no temptation to turn politician, and much 
 less to inflame a party in these times. When a 
 ship is leaky, and a mutinous spirit divides the 
 company on board, a wise man would say, f My 
 good friends, while we are debating the water is 
 gaining on us — we had better leave the debate 
 and go to the pumps.' I endeavor," continued 
 he, " to turn my people's eyes from instruments 
 to God. I am continually attempting to show 
 them how far they are from knowing either the 
 matter of fact or the matter of right. I inculcate 
 our great privileges in this country, and advise a 
 discontented man to take a lodging for a little 
 while in Russia or Prussia." 
 
 Though no great variety of anecdote is to be 
 expected in a course so stationary as this part 
 of Mr. Newton's life and ministry — for sometimes 
 the course of a single day might give the ac- 
 
176 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 count of a whole year — yet that day was so be- 
 nevolently spent, that he was found in it M not 
 only rejoicing with those that rejoiced," but lite- 
 rally " weeping with those that wept." The por- 
 trait which Goldsmith drew from imagination 
 Mr. Newton realized in fact, insomuch that had 
 Mr. Newton sat for his picture to the poet, it 
 could not have been more accurately delineated 
 than by the following lines in his Deserted 
 Village : 
 
 " Unskilful he to fawn, or seek for power, 
 M By doctrines fashion'd to the varying hour j 
 " Far other aims his heart had learn'd to prize, 
 " More bent to raise the wretched than to rise. 
 " Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride, 
 " And e'en his failings lean'd to virtue's side j 
 " But in his duty prompt at every call, 
 u He watch'd and wept, he pray'd and felt, for all : 
 M And as a bird each fond endearment tries 
 " To tempt his new-fledged offspring to the skie»". 
 M He tried each art, reprov'd each dull delay, 
 " Allur'd to brighter worlds, and led the way." 
 
 I remember to have heard him say, when speak- 
 ing of his continual interruptions, " I see in this 
 world two heaps of human happiness and misery; 
 now if I can take but the smallest bit from one 
 heap and add to the other, I carry a point. If,, as 
 I go home, a child has dropped a half-penny, and 
 if, by giving it another, I can wipe away its tears, 
 I feel I have done something. I should be glad 
 
MINISTRY IN LONDON. 
 
 177 
 
 indeed to do greater things, but I will not neglect 
 this. When I hear a knock at my study door, I 
 hear a message from God ; it may be a lesson of 
 instruction, perhaps a lesson of patience ; but 
 since it is his message, it must be interesting." 
 
 But it was not merely under his own roof that 
 tiis benevolent aims were thus exerted j he was 
 found ready to take an active part in relieving 
 the miserable, directing the anxious, or recover- 
 ing the wanderer, in whatever state or place he 
 discovered such: of which take the following 
 nstance : 
 
 The late Dr. Buchanan was a youth of consi- 
 derable talents, and had received a respectable 
 education. I am not informed of his original 
 destination in point of profession ; but certain it 
 m that he left his parents in Scotland, with a de- 
 sign of viewing the world at large ; and that, 
 without those pecuniary resources which could 
 render such an undertaking convenient, or even 
 practicable. Yet, having the sanguine expecta- 
 :ions of youth, together with its inexperience, 
 ie determinately pursued his plan. I have seen 
 in account from his own hand, of the strange, 
 jut by no means dishonorable resources to which 
 le was reduced in the pursuit of this scheme ; 
 lor can romance exceed the detail. To London, 
 lowever, he came ; and then he seemed to come 
 :o himself. He had heard Mr. Newton's character, 
 
178 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 and on a Sunday evening he came to St. Mary 
 Woolnoth, and stood in one of the aisles while 
 Mr. Newton preached. In the course of that week 
 he wrote to Mr. Newton some account of his ad-- 
 ventures and state of mind. Such circumstances 
 eould be addressed to no man more properly 
 Mr. Newton's favorite maxim was often in his 
 mouth, more often in his actions, and always m 
 his heart ; 
 
 Hand ignara mali, missris succurrere disco. 
 ! " Not ignorant of suffering, I hasten to succor the wretched." 
 
 Mr. Newton therefore gave notice from the pulpit 
 on the following Sunday evening, that if the per- 
 son was present who had sent him such a letter, 
 he should be glad to speak with him. 
 
 Mr. Buchanan gladly accepted the invitation, and 
 eame to Mr. Newton's house, where a friendship 
 began which continued till Mr. Newton's death 
 Mr. Newton not only afforded this youth the in- 
 struction which he at this period so deeply needed, 
 but marking his fine abilities and correct inclina- 
 tion, he introduced him to Henry Thornton, Esq. 
 who, inheriting his father's unbounded liberality 
 and determined adherence to the cause of real 
 religion, readily patronized the stranger. Mr. Bu- 
 ehanan was, by the munificence of this gentle- 
 man, supported through a university education, 
 and was afterward ordained to a curacy. It was, 
 
ACQUAINTANCE WITH DR. BUCHANAN. 179 
 
 however, thought expedient that his talents 
 should be employed in an important station 
 abroad, which he readily undertook, and in 
 which he maintained a very distinguished cha- 
 racter. 
 
 It ought not to be concealed that Mr. Bucha- 
 nan, after his advancement, not only returned his 
 patron the whole expense of his university edu- 
 cation, but also placed in his hands an equal sum 
 for the education of some pious youth who might 
 be deemed worthy of the same assistance as was 
 once afforded to himself. 
 
 Mr. Newton used to spend a month or two, 
 annually, at the house of some friend in the 
 country ; he always took an affectionate leave 
 of his congregation before he departed, and 
 spoke of his leaving town as quite uncertain of 
 returning to it, considering the variety of inci- 
 dents which might prevent that return. Nothing 
 was more remarkable than his constant habit of 
 regarding the hand of God in every event, how- 
 ever trivial it might appear to others. On every 
 occasion — in the concerns of every hour — in 
 matters public or private, like Enoch, he "walk- 
 ed with God." Take a single instance of his 
 state of mind in this respect. In walking to his 
 church he would say. " 'The way of man is not 
 in himself,' nor can he conceive what belongs to 
 a single step — when I go to St. Mary Woolnoth 
 
180 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 it seems the same whether I turn down Lothbury 
 or go through the Old Jewry ; but the going 
 through one street arid not another, may produce 
 an effect of lasting consequences. A man cut 
 down my hammock in sport, but had he cut it 
 down half an hour later, I had not been here, as 
 the exchange of crew was then making. A man 
 made a smoke on the sea-shore at the time a ship 
 passed, which was thereby brought to, and af- 
 terward brought me to England." 
 
 Mr. Newton experienced a severe stroke soon 
 after he came to St. Mary's, and while he resided 
 in Charles Square, in the death of his niece, Miss 
 Eliza Cunningham. He loved her with the affec- 
 tion of a parent, and she was, indeed, truly lovely. 
 He had brought her up, and had observed that, 
 with the most amiable natural qualities, she pos- 
 sessed real piety. With every possible attention 
 from Mr. and Mrs. Newton and their friends, they 
 yet saw her gradually sink into the arms of death; 
 but she was, through grace, prepared to meet him 
 as a messenger sent from her heavenly Father, to 
 whom she departed, October 6th, 1785, aged four- 
 teen years and eight months. On this occasion 
 Mr. Newton published a brief memoir of her cha- 
 racter and death.* 
 
 * This Memoir is Tract No. 83, published by the Ame- 
 rican Tract Society. 
 
MINISTRY IN LONDON. 
 
 181 
 
 In the years 1784 and 1785 Mr. Newton preach- 
 ed a course of sermons on an occasion of which 
 he gives the following account in his first dis- 
 course : " Conversation in almost every company, 
 for some time past, has much turned upon the 
 commemoration of Handel, and particularly on 
 his oratorio of the Messiah. I mean to lead your 
 meditations to the language of the oratorio, and 
 to consider, in their order, (if the Lord, on whom 
 jur breath depends, shall be pleased to afford 
 life, ability and opportunity,) the several sublime 
 md interesting passages of Scripture which are 
 [he basis of that admired composition." In the 
 year 1786 he published these discourses in two 
 volumes, octavo. There is a passage so original 
 Ht the beginning of his fourth sermon, from MaL 
 3 : 1-3, " The Lord, whom ye seek, shall suddenly 
 come to his temple," &c. that I shall transcribe 
 it for the use of such as have not seen these dis- 
 courses ; at the same time it will, in a few words,, 
 convey Mr. Newton's idea of the usual perform- 
 ance of this oratorio, or attending its perform- 
 ance in present circumstances. 
 
 " ' Whereunto shall we liken the people of this 
 generation, and to what are they like V " I re- 
 present to myself a number of persons, of various 
 characters, involved in one common charge of 
 high treason. They are already in a state of 
 confinement, but not yet brought to their trial. 
 
182 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 The facts, however, are so plain, and the evidence 
 against them so strong and pointed, that there 
 is not the least doubt of their guilt being fully 
 proved, and that nothing but a pardon can pre- 
 serve them from punishment. In this situation 
 it should seem their wisdom to avail themselves 
 of every expedient in their power for obtaining 
 mercy : but they are entirely regardless of their 
 danger, and wholly taken up with contriving me- 
 thods of amusing themselves, that they may pass 
 away the term of their imprisonment with as 
 much cheerfulness as possible. Among other 
 resources, they call in the assistance of music: 
 and amidst a great variety of subjects in this 
 way, they are particularly pleased with one. 
 They choose to make the solemnities of their 
 impending trial, the character of their Judge, 
 the methods of his procedure, and the awful 
 sentence to which they are exposed, the ground- 
 work of a musical entertainment : and, as if they 
 were quite unconcerned in the event, their atten- 
 tion is chiefly fixed upon the skill of the com- 
 poser, in adapting the style of his music to the 
 very solemn language and subject with which, 
 they are trifling. The king, however, out of his 
 great clemency and compassion toward those 
 who have no pity for themselves, prevents them 
 with his goodness. Undesired by them, he sends 
 them a gracious message : he assures them that 
 
MINISTRY IN LOtfDON. 
 
 183 
 
 he is unwilling they should suffer: he requires, 
 yea, he entreats them to submit. He points out 
 a way in which their confession and submission 
 shall be certainly accepted ; and in this way, 
 which he condescends to prescribe, he offers 
 them a free and a full pardon. But instead of 
 taking a single step toward a compliance with 
 his goodness, they set his message likewise to 
 music ; and this, together with a description of 
 their previous state, and of the fearful doom 
 awaiting them if they continue obstinate, is sung 
 for their diversion, accompanied with the sound 
 of the cornet, flute, harp, sackbut, psaltery, dul- 
 cimer, and all kinds of instruments. Surely, if 
 such a case as I have supposed could be found 
 in real life, though I might admire the musical 
 taste of these people, I should commiserate their 
 insensibility." 
 
 But " clouds return after the rain :" a greater 
 loss than that of Miss Cunningham was to follow. 
 Enough has been said in these memoirs already 
 to show the more than ordinary affection Mr. 
 Newton felt for her who had been so long his 
 idol, as he used to call her ; of which I shall add 
 3ut one more instance out of many that might 
 3asily be collected. 
 
 Being with him at the house of a lady at 
 31ackheath, we stood at a window which had a 
 )rospect of Shooter's Hill. " Ah," said Mr. New- 
 
184 
 
 LIFE OF BEV. JOlfH KEWTON- 
 
 ton, M I remember the many journeys I took from 
 London to stand at the top of that hill in order to 
 look toward the part in which Mrs. Newton then 
 lived : not that I could see the spot itself, after 
 travelling several miles, for she lived far beyond 
 what I could see when on the hill j but it grati- 
 fied me even to look toward the spot : and this I 
 did always once, and sometimes twice a week." 
 " Why," said I, " this is more like one of the va- 
 garies of romance than of real life." " True," 
 replied he, " but real life has extravagances that 
 would not be admitted to appear in a well-writ- 
 ten romance — they would be said to be out of 
 mature." 
 
 In such a continued habit of excessive attach- 
 ment, it is evident how keenly Mr. Newton must 
 have felt, while he observed the progress of a 
 threatening disorder. This will be manifest from 
 the following account which he published. It was 
 added to his publication, Letters to a Wife, and 
 he entitles it 
 
 A Relation of some Particulars respecting ike 
 Cause, Progress, and Close of the last Illness of 
 my late dear Wife. 
 
 M Among my readers there will doubtless he 
 some of a gentle, sympathizing spirit, with whom 
 I am not personally acquainted ; and perhaps 
 
ILLNESS OF MRS. NEWTON. 
 
 1S5 
 
 their feelings may so far interest them in my 
 concerns as to make them not unwilling to read 
 a brief account of my late great trial. 
 
 " My dear wife had naturally a good constitu- 
 tion, and was favored with good spirits to the 
 last : but the violent shock she sustained in the 
 year 1754, when I was suddenly attacked by a fit, 
 (I know not of what kind,) which left me no sign 
 of life for about an hour but breathing, made as 
 sudden a change in her habit, and subjected her, 
 from that time, to a variety of chronic com- 
 plaints. She was several times confined, for five 
 or six months, to her chamber, and often brought 
 so low that her recovery seemed hopeless. I be- 
 lieve she spent ten years, out of the forty that 
 she was spared to me, (if all the days of her suf- 
 ferings were added together,) in illness and pain. 
 But she had likewise long intervals of health. 
 The fit I have mentioned (the only one I ever 
 had) was the means the Lord was pleased to ap- 
 point, in answer to my prayers, to free me from 
 the irksome seafaring life in which I was till then 
 engaged, and to appoint me a settlement on 
 shore. 
 
 " Before our removal from Liverpool she re- 
 ceived a blow upon her left breast, which occa- 
 sioned her some pain and anxiety for a little 
 time, but which soon wore off. A small lump re- 
 mained in the part affected, but I heard no more 
 16* 
 
186 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON, 
 
 of it for many years. I believe that, latterly, she 
 felt more than I was aware of; but her tender- 
 ness for me made her conceal it as long as pos- 
 sible. I have often since wondered at her suc- 
 cess, and how I could be kept so long ignorant 
 of it. 
 
 "In the month of October, 1788, she applied, 
 unknown to me, to a friend of mine, an eminent 
 surgeon : her design was, if he approved it, to 
 submit to an operation, and so to adjust time and 
 circumstances with him, that it might be perform- 
 ed in my absence, and before I could know it: 
 but the surgeon told her that the malady was too 
 far advanced, and the tumor (the size of which 
 he compared to the half of a melon) was too large 
 to warrant the hope of being extracted without 
 the most imminent danger of her life, and that ho 
 durst not attempt it. He could give her but little 
 advice, more than to keep herself as quiet, and 
 her mind as easy as possible ; and little more en- 
 couragement, than by saying that the pains to 
 which she was exposed were generally rendered 
 tolerable by the use of laudanum ; to which, how- 
 ever, she had a dislike little short of an antipathy. 
 
 " I cannot easily describe the composure and 
 resignation with which she gave me this recital 
 the next day after her interview with the surgeon : 
 nor of the sensations of my mind while I heard 
 it. My conscience told me that I had well deserv- 
 
ILLNESS OF -MRS. NEWTON. 
 
 187. 
 
 ed to be wounded where I was most sensible ; 
 ind that it was my duty to submit with silence to 
 the will of the Lord. But I strongly felt that, un- 
 less he was pleased to give me this submission, I 
 was more likely to toss like a wild bull in a net, 
 in defiance of my better judgment. 
 
 M Soon after, the Lord was pleased to visit our 
 dear adopted daughter with a dreadful fever, 
 which at first greatly affected her nerves, and af- 
 terward became putrid. She (Miss Catlett) was 
 brought very near to the grave indeed ; for we 
 once or twice thought her actually dead. But 
 He, who in the midst of judgment remembers 
 mercy, restored her, and still preserves her, to be 
 the chief temporal comfort of my old age, and to 
 afford me the greatest alleviation of the loss I 
 was soon to experience, that the case could 
 admit. 
 
 M The attention and anxiety occasioned by this 
 heavy dispensation, which lasted during the 
 whole of a very severe winter ; were by no means 
 suited to promote that tranquillity of mind which 
 my good friend wished my dear wife would en- 
 deavor to preserve. She was often much fatigued, 
 and often much alarmed. Next to each other, 
 this dear child had the nearest place, both in her 
 heart and mine. The effect was soon apparent : 
 as the spring of 1789 advanced, her malady ra- 
 pidly increased ; her pains were almost incessant, 
 
188 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 and often intense, and she could seldom lie one 
 hour in her bed in the same position. Oh ! my 
 heart, what didst thou then suffer! 
 
 "But in April, the God who heareth prayer 
 mercifully afforded relief, and gave such a bless- 
 ing to the means employed, that her pains ceas- 
 ed. And though I believe she never had an hour 
 of perfect ease, she felt little of the distressing 
 pains incident to her malady, from that time to 
 the end of her life, (which was about twenty 
 months,) excepting at three or four short inter- 
 vals, which, taken together, hardly amounted to 
 two hours : and these returns of anguish, I thought, 
 were permitted to show me how much I was in- 
 debted to the goodness of God for exempting her 
 feelings and my sympathy from what would have 
 been terrible indeed ! 
 
 " In the close of the summer she was able to 
 go to Southampton, and returned tolerably well. 
 She was twice at church in the first week after 
 she came home. She then went no more abroad, 
 except in a coach, for a little air and exercise: 
 but she was cheerful, tolerably easy, slept as well 
 as most people who are in perfect health, and 
 could receive and converse with her kind friends 
 who visited her. 
 
 tr It was not long after, that she began to have 
 a distaste for food, which continued and increas- 
 ed ; so that perhaps her death was at last rath- 
 
ILLNESS OF MRS. NEWTON. 
 
 189 
 
 er owing to weakness, from want of nourishment, 
 than to her primary disorder. Her dislike was, 
 first, to butcher's meat, of which she could bear 
 neither the sight nor the smell. Poultry and fish 
 in their turns became equally distasteful. She re- 
 tained some relish for small birds awhile after 
 she had given up the rest j but it was at a season 
 when they were difficult to be obtained. I hope 
 I shall always feel my obligations to the kind 
 friends who spared no pains to procure some for 
 her when they were not to be had in the markets. 
 At that time I set more value upon a dozen of 
 larks than upon the finest ox in Smithfield. But 
 her appetite failed to these also, w T hen they be- 
 came more plentiful. 
 
 " Under this trying discipline I learnt, more 
 sensibly than ever, to pity those whose sufferings, 
 of a similar kind, are aggravated by poverty. Our 
 distress was not small, yet we had every thing 
 within reach that could, in any degree, conduce 
 to her refreshment or relief ; and Ave had faithful 
 and affectionate servants, who were always will- 
 ingly engaged to their power, yea, as the apostle 
 speaks, beyond their power, in attending and as- 
 sisting her, by night and by day. What must be 
 the feelings of those who, when afflicted with 
 grievous diseases, pine away, unpitied, unnoticed, 
 without help, and, in a great measure destitute 
 of common necessaries 1 This reflection, among 
 
190 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 others, contributed to quiet my mind, and to 
 convince me that I had still much more cause 
 for thankfulness than for complaint. 
 
 " For about a twelvemonth of her confinement 
 her spirits were good, her patience was exem- 
 plary, and there was a cheerfulness in her looks 
 and her language that was wonderful. Often the 
 liveliness of her remarks has forced a smile from 
 us when the tears were in our eyes. Whatever 
 little contrivances she formed for her amuse- 
 ment, in the course of the day, she would attend 
 to nothing till she had finished her stated read* 
 ing of the Scripture, in which she employed much 
 time and great attention. I have her Bible by 
 me, (which I would not part with for half the ma- 
 nuscripts in the Vatican,) in which almost every 
 principal text, from the beginning to the end of 
 the book, is marked in the margin with a pencil 
 by her own dear hand. The good word of Goo 
 was her medicine and her food, while she waa 
 able to read it. She read Dr. Watts' Psalms and 
 Hymns, and the Olney Hymns, in the same man- 
 ner. There are few of them in which one, two, 
 or more verses, are not thus marked j and in ma- 
 ny, which I suppose she read more frequently, 
 every verse is marked. 
 
 "But in October the enemy was permitted, for 
 a while, to take advantage of her bodily weak- 
 ness, to disturb the peace and serenity of her 
 
ILLNES3 OF MRS. NEWTON. 
 
 191 
 
 mind. Her thoughts became clouded and confus- 
 »d ; and she gradually lost, not only the com- 
 fortable evidence of her own interest in the pre- 
 vious truths of the Bible, but she lost all hold of 
 the truth itself. She doubted the truth of the 
 Bible, or whether truth existed ; and, together 
 with this, she expressed an extreme reluctance 
 ho death, and could not easily bear the most dis- 
 ' Lant hint of her approaching end, though we were 
 i expecting it daily and hourly. This was the acme, 
 ihe highwater-mark of my trial : this was hard to 
 Dear indeed. 
 
 My readers, perhaps, will scarcely believe 
 :hat I derived some consolation, during this pe- 
 riod, from perceiving that her attachment to me 
 I was very sensibly abated. She spoke to me with 
 ' m indifference, of which, a little before, she was 
 incapable. If, when the Lord's presence was with- 
 drawn, and she could derive no comfort from his 
 word, she had found some relief from my being 
 with her, or from hearing me speak, I should have 
 been more grieved. Her affection to me, con- 
 firmed by so many proofs, in the course of forty 
 years, was not to be impeached by this tempora- 
 ry suspension of its exercise. I judged the same 
 of the frame of her mind, as to her spiritual con- 
 cerns : I ascribed them both to the same cause — 
 !ier bodily weakness, and the power of tempta- 
 tion. She was relieved, in both respects, after 
 
192 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 about a fortnight spent in conflict and dismay. 
 The Lord restored peace to her soul, and then 
 her former tenderness to me immediately revived. 
 Then, likewise, she could calmly speak of her 
 approaching dissolution. She mentioned some 
 particulars concerning her funeral, and our do- 
 mestic concerns, with great composure. But her 
 mind was not so fully restored to its former tone 
 as to give her freedom to enlarge upon her hopes 
 and views, as I had wished, till near her dissolu- 
 tion ; and then she was too low to speak at all. 
 
 M One addition to our trial yet remained. It 
 had been her custom, when she went from her 
 sofa to her bed, to exert herself for my encou- 
 ragement, to show me how well she could walk. 
 But it pleased the Lord that, by some alteration, 
 which affected her spine, she was disabled from 
 moving herself ; and other circumstances render- 
 ed it extremely difficult to move her. It has taken 
 five of us nearly two hours to remove her from 
 one side of the bed to the other, and, at times, 
 even this was impracticable : so that she has lain 
 more than a week exactly in the same spot, with- 
 out the possibility of changing her position. All 
 this was necessary on my account. ^ie rod had 
 a voice, and it was the voice of the Lord. I un- 
 derstood the meaning no less plainly than if he 
 had spoken audibly from heaven, and said, ff Now 
 contemplate your idol. Now see what she if 
 
ILLNESS OF MRS. NEWTON- 
 
 193 
 
 whom you once presumed to prefer to Me!" 
 Even this bitter cup was sweetened by the pa- 
 tience and resignation which he gave her. When 
 I have said, "You suffer greatly," her answer 
 usually was, "I suffer, indeed, but not greatly." 
 And she often expressed her thankfulness that, 
 though her body was immoveable, she was still 
 permitted the use of her hands. 
 
 " One of the last sensible concerns she felt, 
 respecting this world, was when my honored 
 friend, patron and benefactor, the late John 
 Thornton, Esq. of Clapham, was removed to a 
 better. She revered and regarded him, I believe, 
 more than she did any person upon earth : and 
 she had reason. Few had nearer access to know 
 and admire his character; and perhaps none 
 were under greater, if equal, obligations to him 
 than we. She knew of his illness, but was always 
 afraid to inquire after the event ; nor should I 
 have ventured to inform her, but that the occa- 
 sion requiring me to leave her for four or five 
 hours, when I hardly expected to find her alive 
 at my return, I was constrained to give her the 
 reason of my absence. She eagerly replied, fC Go 
 by all means ; I would not have you stay with 
 me upon any consideration." I put the funeral 
 iring I was favored with into her hands ; she put 
 it first to her lips, and then to her eyes, bedew- 
 ing it with her tears. I trust they soon met 
 
 Newton. 1 7 
 
194? LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 again. But she survived him more than a month 
 " Her head became so affected that I could dc 
 little more than sit and look at her. Our inter 
 course by words was nearly broken off. Sh( 
 could not easily bear the sound of the gentles 
 foot upon the carpet, nor of the softest voice 
 On Sunday, the 12th of December, when I wa 
 preparing for church in the morning, she sent fo 
 me, and we took a final farewell, as to this world 
 She faintly uttered an endearing appellation 
 which was familiar to her, and gave me her hand 
 which I held, while I prayed by her bedside. W 
 , exchanged a few tears j but I was almost as un 
 able to speak as she was. But I returned soo 
 after, and said, f If your mind, as I trust, is in 
 state of peace, it will be a comfort to me if yo 
 can signify it by holding up your hand.' Sh 
 held it up, and wavepl it to and fro several time; 
 
 " That evening her speech, her sight, and 
 believe, her hearing, wholly failed. She cont 
 nued perfectly composed, without taking notic 
 of any thing, or discovering any sign of pain c 
 uneasiness, till Wednesday evening toward seve 
 o'clock. She then began to breathe very hare 
 her breathing might be called groaning, for 
 was heard in every part of the house ; but I h 
 lieve it was entirely owing to the difficulty c 
 respiration, for she lay quite still, with a plac 
 countenance, as if in a gentle slumber. Thei 
 
DEATH OF MRS. NEWTON. 
 
 195 
 
 .vas no start or struggle, nor a feature ruffled. I 
 ook my post by her bed-side, and watched her 
 learly three hours, with a candle in my hand, 
 ill I saw her breathe her last, on the 15th of De- 
 •ember, 1790, a little before ten in the evening. 
 
 ff When I was sure she was gone I took off her 
 *ing, according to her repeated injunction, and 
 3ut it upon my own finger. I then kneeled down 
 with the servants who were in the room, and re- 
 turned the Lord my unfeigned thanks for her 
 leliverance, and her peaceful dismission. 
 
 "How wonderful must be the moment after 
 ieath! What a transition did she then experi- 
 ance ! She was instantly freed from sin, and all 
 its attendant sorrows, and, I trust, instantly ad- 
 mitted to join the heavenly choir. That moment 
 was remarkable to me likewise. It removed from 
 me the chief object which made another day or 
 hour of life, as to my own personal concern, de- 
 sirable. At the same time it set me free from a 
 weight of painful feelings and anxieties, under 
 which nothing short of a divine power could 
 have so long supported me. 
 
 " I believe it was about two or three months 
 before her death, when I was walking up and 
 down the room, offering disjointed prayers from 
 i heart torn with distress, that a thought sudden- 
 ly struck me with unusual force, to this effect : 
 The promises of God must be true ; surely the 
 
196 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 Lord will help me, if I am willing to be helped! 
 It occurred to me that we are often led, from a 
 vain complacence in what we call our sensibility, 
 to indulge that unprofitable grief which both our 
 duty and our peace require us to resist to the ut- 
 most of our power. I instantly said aloud, 1 Lord, 
 I am helpless indeed in myself, but I hope I am 
 willing, without reserve, that thou shouldst help 
 me.' 
 
 K It had been much upon my mind, from the 
 beginning of this trial, that I was a minister, and 
 that the eyes of many were upon me ; that my 
 turn of preaching had very much led me to en- 
 deavor to comfort the afflicted, by representing 
 the Gospel as a catholicon, affording an effectual 
 remedy for every evil, a full compensation for 
 every want or loss to those who truly receive it ; 
 so that though a believer may be afflicted, he 
 cannot be properly unhappy, unless he gives way 
 to self-will and unbelief. I had often told my 
 hearers that a state of trial, if rightly improved, 
 was, to the christian, a post of honor, affording 
 the fairest opportunity of exemplifying the pow- 
 er of divine grace, to the praise and glory of the 
 Giver. It had been, therefore, my frequent daily 
 prayer that I might not, by impatience or des- 
 pondency, be deprived of the advantage my 
 situation afforded me, of confirming by my own 
 practice the doctrine which I had preached to 
 
DEATH OF MRS. NEWTON. 
 
 197 
 
 others ; and that I might not give them occasion 
 to apply to me the words of Eliphaz to Job, chap. 
 4 : 4, 5, " Thy words have upholden him that was 
 falling, and thou hast strengthened the feeble 
 knees; but now it is come upon thee, and thou 
 faintest ; it toucheththee, and thou art troubled!" 
 And I had not prayed in vain. But from the 
 time that I so remarkably felt myself willing to 
 be helped, I might truly say, to the praise of the 
 Lord my heart trusted in him, and I was helped 
 indeed. Through the whole of my painful trial 
 I attended all my stated and occasional services 
 as usual; and a 'stranger would scarcely have 
 discovered, either by my words or looks, that I 
 was in trouble. .Many of our intimate friends 
 were apprehensive that this long affliction, and 
 especially the closing event, would have over- 
 whelmed me ; but it was far otherwise. It did 
 not prevent me from preaching a single sermon, 
 and I preached on the day of her death. 
 
 " After she was gone, my willingness to be 
 helped, and my desire that the Lord's goodness 
 to me might be observed by others, for their en- 
 couragement, made me indifferent to some laws 
 of established custom, the breach of which jis 
 often more noticed than the violation of God's 
 commands. I was afraid of sitting at home, and 
 indulging myself, by poring over my loss ; and 
 therefore I was seen in the street, and visited 
 17* 
 
198 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTOX. 
 
 some of my serious friends the very next day. 
 I likewise preached three times while she lay 
 dead in the house. Some of my brethren kindly 
 offered their assistance; but as the Lord .was 
 pleased to give me strength, both of body and 
 mind, I thought it my duty to stand up in my 
 place as formerly. And after she was deposited 
 in the vault I preached her funeral sermon,* with 
 little more sensible emotion than if it had been 
 for another person. I have reason to hope that 
 many of my hearers were comforted and animat- 
 ed under their afflictions, by what they saw of 
 the Lord's goodness to me in my time of need. 
 And I acknowledge that it was well worth stand- 
 ing a while in the fire, for such an opportunity 
 of experiencing and exhibiting the power and 
 faithfulness of his promises. 
 
 *' I was not supported by lively sensible consola- 
 tions, but by being enabled to realize to my mind 
 some great and leading truths of the word of God. 
 I saw, what indeed I knew before, but never till 
 then so strongly and clearly perceived, that, as 
 a sinner, I had no right y and as a believer, I could 
 have no reason to complain. I considered her as 
 a k)an, which He who lent her to me had a right. 
 
 * From a text which I had reserved from my first en- 
 trance on the ministry, for this particular service, if 1 
 should survive her, and be able to speak. 
 
DEATH OF MRS. NEWTON. 
 
 199 
 
 to resume whenever he pleased ; and that as I 
 had deserved ^o forfeit her every day, from the 
 first, it became me rather to be thankful that she 
 was spared so long to me, than to resign her 
 with reluctance when called for. Farther, that 
 his sovereignty was connected with infinite wis- 
 dom and goodness, and that, consequently, if it 
 were possible for me to alter any part of his 
 plan, I could only spoil it ; that such a short- 
 sighted creature as I, so blind to the possible con- 
 sequences of my own wishes, was not only un- 
 worthy, but unable to choose well for himself; 
 and that it was therefore my great mercy and 
 privilege that the Lord condescended to choose 
 for me. May such considerations powerfully af- 
 fect the hearts of my readers under their troubles^ 
 and then I shall not regret having submitted to 
 the view of the public a detail which may seem 
 more proper for the subject of a private letter to 
 a friend. They who can feel, will, I hope, excuse 
 me : and it is chiefly for their sakes that I have 
 written it. 
 
 When my wife died the world seemed to die 
 with her, (I hope, to revive no more.) I see little 
 now but my ministry and my christian profession 
 to make a continuance in life for a single day de- 
 sirable ; though I am willing to wait my appoint- 
 ed time. If the world cannot restore her to me 
 (not that I have the remotest wish that her return 
 
200 
 
 LTFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 was possible) it can do nothing for me. The 
 Bank of England is too poor to compensate for 
 such a loss as mine. But the Lord, the all-suffi- 
 cient God, speaks, and it is done. Let .those who 
 know him, and trust him, be of good courage. 
 He can give them strength according to their 
 day ; he can increase their strength as their 
 trials are increased, to any assignable degree. 
 And what he can do, he has promised he will do. 
 The power and faithfulness on which the suc- 
 cessive changes of day and night, and of the 
 seasons of the year depend, and which uphold 
 the stars in their orbits, are equally engaged to 
 support his people, and to lead them safely and 
 unhurt (if their path be so appointed) through 
 floods and flames. Though I believe she has 
 never yet been (and probably never will be) out 
 of my waking thoughts for five minutes at a 
 time, though I sleep in the bed in which she suf- 
 fered and languished so long, I have not had one 
 uncomfortable day, nor one restless night since 
 she left me. I have lost a right hand, which I 
 cannot but miss continually, but the Lord enables 
 me to go on cheerfully without it. 
 
 "May his blessing rest upon the reader ! May 
 glory, honor and praise be ascribed to his great 
 and holy name, now and for ever ! Amen." 
 
DEATH OF MRS. NEWTON. 
 
 201 
 
 Anes composed by Mr. Newton, and sung after the funeral 
 sermon of Mrs. Newton. 
 
 Habakkuk, 3 : 17, 18. 
 
 M The earth, with rich abundance stor'd, 
 
 To answer all our wants, 
 Invites our hearts to praise the Lord 
 
 For what his bounty grants. 
 
 " Flocks, herds and corn, and grateful fruit, 
 
 His gracious hand supplies ; 
 And while our various tastes- they suit, 
 
 Their prospect cheers our eyes. 
 
 " To these he adds each tender tie 
 
 Of sweet domestic life; 
 Endearing joys, the names imply, 
 
 Of parent, husband, wife. 
 
 11 But sin has poisoned all below; 
 
 Our blessings burdens prove ; 
 On ev'ry hand we suffer wo, 
 
 But most where most we love. 
 
 Jf«r vintage, harvest, flocks nor herds, 
 Can fill the heart's desire ; 
 And oft a worm destroys our gourds, 
 And all our hopes expire. 
 
 " Domestic joys, alas ! how rare ! 
 
 Possessed and known by few ! 
 And they who know them, find they are 
 
 As frail and transient too. 
 
 11 But you who love the Savior's voice, 
 
 And rest upon his name, 
 Amidst these changes may rejoice, 
 
 For he is still the same. 
 
202 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 " The Lord himself will soon appear 
 Whom you, unseen, adore ; 
 
 Then he will wipe offevery tear, 
 And you shall weep no more." 
 
 Mr. Newton made this remark on her death, 
 ff Just before Mrs. Newton's disease became so 
 formidable, I was preaching on the waters of 
 Egypt being turned into blood. The Egyptians 
 had idolized their river, and God made them 
 loath it. I was apprehensive it would soon be a 
 similar case with me." During the very affect- 
 ing season of Mrs. Newton's dissolution, Mr. 
 Newton, like David, wept and prayed ; but the 
 desire of his eyes being taken away by the 
 stroke, he too, like David, "arose from the 
 earth, and came into the temple of the Lord, and 
 worshipped," and that in a manner* which sur- 
 prised some of his friends. 
 
 Besides which, Mr. Newton had a favorite sen- 
 timent which I have heard him express in differ- 
 ent ways, long before he had so special an occa- 
 sion for illustrating it in practice. " God, in his 
 providence," he used to say, M is continually 
 bringing about occasions to demonstrate charac- 
 ters." He used to instance the case of Achan 
 and Judas among bad men ; and that of St. Paul, 
 
MINISTRY IN LONDON. 203 
 
 Acts, 27, among good ones. " If any one," said 
 he, " had asked the centurion who Paul the 
 prisoner was that sailed with them on board the 
 ship 1 it is probable he would have thus replied, 
 ' He is a troublesome enthusiast, who has lately 
 joined himself to a certain sect. These people 
 affirm that a Jewish malefactor, who was cruci- 
 fied some years ago at Jerusalem, rose the third 
 day from the dead ; and this Paul is mad enough 
 to assert that Jesus, the leader of their sect, is 
 not only now alive, but that he himself has seen 
 him, and is resolved to live and die with him — ■ 
 Poor crazy creature !' But God made use of this 
 occasion to discover the real character of Paul, 
 and taught the centurion, from the circumstances 
 which followed, to whom it was he owed his 
 direction in the storm, and for whose sake he 
 received his preservation through it." 
 
 In all trying occasions, therefore, Mr. Newton 
 was particularly impressed with the idea of a 
 christian, and especially of a christian minister, 
 being called to stand forward as an example to 
 his flock — to feel himself placed in a post of ho- 
 nor — a post in which he may not only glorify 
 God, but also forcibly demonstrate the peculiar 
 supports of the Gospel. More especially when 
 this could be done (as in his own case) from no 
 doubtful motive ; then it may be expedient to 
 leave the path of ordinary custom, for the greater 
 
204 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 reason of exhibiting both the doctrines of trutji 
 and the experience of their power. 
 
 Though I professedly publish none of Mr. 
 Newton's letters, yet I shall take the liberty to 
 insert part of one, with which I am favored by 
 J. Forbes, Esq. of Stanmore Hill, written to him 
 while at Rome, and dated December 5th, 1796. 
 It shows the interest which the writer took in 
 the safety of his friend, and his address in at- 
 tempting to break the enchantments with which 
 men of taste are surrounded, when standing in 
 the centre of the fine arts. 
 
 " The true christian, in strict propriety of 
 speech, has no home here ; he is, and must be, 
 a stranger and a pilgrim upon earth : his citizen- 
 ship, treasure and real home, are in a better 
 world ; and every step he takes, whether to the 
 east or to the west, is a step nearer to his Fa- 
 ther's house. On the other hand, when in the 
 path of duty, he is always at home ; for the 
 whole earth is the Lord's : and as we see the 
 same sun in England or Italy, in Europe or Asia, 
 so wherever he is, he equally sets the Lord 
 always before him, and finds himself equally 
 near the throne of grace at all times and in 
 all places. God is every where, and, by faith in 
 the great Mediator, he dwells in God, and God 
 in him." To him that line of Horace may be 
 applied in the best sense, 
 
HIS DEATH. 
 
 217 
 
 of my age, do, for the settling of my temporal 
 concerns, and for the disposal of all the worldly 
 estate which it hath pleased the Lord in his good 
 providence to give me, make this my last Will 
 and Testament as follows. I commit my soul 
 to my gracious God and Savior, who mercifully 
 spared and preserved me when I was an apostate, 
 a blasphemer and an infidel ; and delivered me 
 from that state of misery on the coast of Africa 
 into which my obstinate wickedness had plunged 
 me ; and who has been pleased to admit me 
 (though most unworthy) to preach his glorious 
 Gospel. I rely with humble confidence upon 
 the atonement and mediation of the Lord Jesus 
 Christ, God and man, which I have often pro- 
 posed to others as the only foundation where- 
 on a sinner can build his hope ; trusting that he 
 will guard and guide me through the uncertain 
 remainder of my life, and that he will then admit 
 me into his presence in his heavenly kingdom. 
 I would have my body deposited in the vault un- 
 der the parish church of Saint Mary Woolnoth, 
 close to the coffins of my late dear wife and my 
 dear niece, Elizabeth Cunningham ; and it is my 
 desire that my funeral may be performed with 
 as little expense as possible, consistent with 
 decency." 
 
 Newton. 
 
 19 
 
218 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 MR. NEWTON'S CHARACTER. 
 
 There seems to be little need of giving a ge- 
 neral character of Mr. Newton after the particu- 
 lars which appear in the foregoing memoirs. He 
 unquestionably was the child of a peculiar provi- 
 dence, in every step of his progress; and his deep 
 sense of the extraordinary dispensation through 
 which he had passed was the prominent topic in 
 his conversation. Those who personally knew 
 the man, could have no doubt of the probity with 
 which his "Narrative" (singular as it *may ap- 
 pear) was written. They, however, who could 
 not view the subject of these memoirs so nearly 
 as his particular friends did, may wish to learn 
 something further of his character with respect 
 
 tO his LITERARY ATTAINMENTS his MINISTRY his 
 
 FAMILY HABITS his WRITINGS— and his FAMILIAR 
 
 CONVERSATION. 
 
 Of his literature, we learn from his ft Narra- 
 tive " what he attained in the learned languages ; 
 and that, by almost incredible efforts. Few men 
 have undertaken such difficulties under such dis- 
 advantages* It, therefore, seems more extraordi- 
 nary that he should have attained so much, than 
 that he should not have acquired more. Nor did 
 he quit his pursuits of this kind, but in order to 
 
HIS CHARACTER. 219 
 
 gain that knowledge which he deemed much more 
 important. Whatever he conceived had a tenden- 
 cy to qualify him, as a scribe xocll instructed in the 
 kingdom of God, bringing out of his treasury 
 things new and old — I say, in pursuit of this 
 point, he might have adopted the apostle's ex- 
 pression, One thing I do. By a principle so sim- 
 ply and firmly directed, he furnished his mind 
 with much information : he had consulted the 
 best old divines ; had read the moderns of repu- 
 tation with avidity ; and was continually watch- 
 ing whatever might serve for analogies or illus- 
 trations in the service of religion. " A minis- 
 ter," he used to say, Kt wherever he is, should be 
 always in his study. He should look at every 
 man, and at every thing, as capable of affording 
 him some instruction." His mind, therefore, was 
 ever intent on his calling — ever extracting some- 
 thing even from the basest materials which he 
 could turn into gold. 
 
 In consequence of this incessant attention to 
 this object, while many (whose early advantages 
 greatly exceeded his) might excel Mr. Newton 
 in the knowledge and investigation of some cu- 
 rious abstract, but very unimportant points ; he 
 vastly excelled them in points of infinitely higher 
 importance to man: — In the knowledge of God, 
 of his word, and of the human heart in its wants 
 and resources, Newton would have stood among 
 
220 LIFE OF REV. JOHN' NEWTON. 
 
 mere scholars, as his namesake the philosopher 
 stood in science among ordinary men. I might 
 say the same of some others who have set out 
 late in the profession 5 but who, with a portion 
 of Mr. Newton's piety and ardor, have greatly 
 outstripped those who have had every early ad- 
 vantage and encouragement : men with specious 
 titles and high connections have received the re- 
 wards ; while men, like Newton, without them, 
 have done the work. 
 
 With respect to his ministry, he appeared, per- 
 haps, to least advantage in the pulpit ; as he did 
 not generally aim at accuracy in the composition 
 of his sermons, nor at any address in the delivery 
 of them. His utterance was far from clear, and 
 his attitudes ungraceful. He possessed, however, 
 so much affection for his people, and so much 
 zeal for their best interests, that the defect of 
 his manner was of little consideration with his 
 constant hearers: at the same time, his capacity 
 and habit of entering into their trials and expe- 
 rience, gave the highest interest to his ministry 
 among them. Besides which, he frequently 
 interspersed the most brilliant allusions ; and 
 brought forward such happy illustrations of his 
 subject, and those with so much unction, on his 
 own heart, as melted and enlarged theirs. The 
 parent-like tenderness and affection which ac- 
 companied his instruction, made them prefer him 
 
HIS CHARACTER. 
 
 to preachers, who, on other accounts, were much 
 more generally popular. 
 
 It ought also to be noted, that, amidst the 
 extravagant notions and unscriptural positions 
 which have sometimes disgraced the religious 
 world, Mr. Newton never departed, in any in- 
 stance, from soundly and seriously promulgating 
 the faith once delivered to the saints ; of which 
 his writings will remain the best evidence. His 
 doctrine was strictly that of the Church of Eng- 
 land, urged on the consciences of men in the 
 most practical and experimental manner. " I 
 hope," said he one day to me, smiling, " I hope 
 I am, upon the whole, a scriptural preacher ; for 
 I find I am considered as an Armenian among 
 the high Calvinists, and as a Calvin ist among the 
 strenuous Armenians." 
 
 I never observed any thing like bigotry in his 
 ministerial character ; though he seemed, at all 
 times, to appreciate the beauty of order and its 
 good effects in the ministry. He had formerly 
 been intimately connected with some highly re- 
 spectable ministers among the dissenters, and re- 
 tained a cordial regard for many to the last. He 
 considered the strong prejudices which attach to 
 both Churchmen and Dissenters, as arising more 
 from education than from principle. But, being 
 himself both a clergyman and an incumbent in 
 the Church of England, he wished to be consist - 
 
 19* 
 
222 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 ent. In public, therefore, he felt he could not 
 act with some ministers, whom he thought truly- 
 good men, and to whom he cordially wished 
 success in their endeavors; and he patiently 
 met the consequence. They called him a bigot; 
 and he, in return, prayed for them, that they 
 might not be really such. 
 
 He had formerly taken much pains in compos- 
 ing his sermons, as I could perceive in one MS. 
 which I looked through : and, even latterly, I have 
 known him, whenever he felt it necessary, pro- 
 duce admirable plans for the pulpit. I own I 
 thought his judgment deficient, in not deeming 
 such preparation necessary at all times. I have 
 sat in pain, when he has spoken unguardedly in 
 this way before young ministers ; men, who, with 
 but comparatively slight degrees of his informa- 
 tion and experience, would draw encouragement 
 to ascend the pulpit with but little previous study 
 of their subject. A minister is not to be blamed, 
 who cannot rise to qualifications which some of 
 his brethren have attained ; but he is certainly 
 bound to improve his own talent to the utmost 
 of his power : he is not to cover his sloth, his 
 love of company, or his disposition to attend a 
 wealthy patron, with the pretence of depending 
 entirely on divine influence. Timothy had as good 
 ground, at least, for expecting such influence as 
 any of his successors in the ministry ; and yet 
 
HIS CHARACTER. 
 
 223 
 
 the apostle admonishes him to give attendance to 
 reading, to exhortation, and to doctrine — to neglect 
 not the gift that was in him — to meditate upon 
 these things — to give himself wholly to them, that 
 his profiting might appear to all. 
 
 Mr. Newton regularly preached on the Sunday 
 morning and evening at St. Mary Woolnoth, and 
 also on the Wednesday morning. After he was 
 turned of seventy he often undertook to assist 
 other clergymen ; sometimes, even to the preach- 
 ing of six sermons in the space of a week. What 
 was more extraordinary, he continued his usual 
 course of preaching at his own church after he 
 was fourscore years old, and that, when he could 
 no longer see to read his text ! His memory and 
 voice sometimes failed him ; but it was remarked, 
 that, at this great age, he was nowhere more 
 collected or lively than in the pulpit. He was 
 punctual as to time with his congregation. Every 
 first Sunday evening in the month he preached 
 on relative duties. Mr. Alderman Lea regularly 
 sent his carriage to convey him to the church, 
 and Mr. Bates sent his servant to attend him in 
 the pulpit ; which friendly assistance was con- 
 tinued till Mr. Xewton could appear no longer 
 in public. 
 
 His ministerial visits were exemplary. I do not 
 recollect one, though favored with many, in which 
 his general information and lively genius did not 
 
224 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 communicate instruction, and his affectionate and 
 condescending sympathy did not leave comfort. 
 
 Truth demands it should be said, that he did 
 not always administer consolation, nor give an 
 account of characters, with sufficient discrimina- 
 tion. His talent did not lie in discerning of spirits. 
 I never saw him so much moved, as when any 
 friend endeavored to correct his errors in this 
 respect. His credulity seemed to arise from the 
 consciousness he had of his own integrity ; and 
 from that sort of parental fondness which he bore 
 to all his friends, real or pretended. I knew one, 
 since dead, whom he thus described, while liv- 
 ing — " He is certainly an odd man, and has his 
 failings ; but he has great integrity, and I hope he 
 is going to heaven :" whereas, almost all who 
 knew him thought the man should go first into 
 the pillory ! 
 
 In his family, Mr. Newton might be admired 
 more safely than imitated. His excessive attach- 
 ment to Mrs. Newton is so fully displayed in his 
 ^ Narrative," and confirmed in the two volumes 
 he thought it proper to publish, entitled, " Let- 
 ters to a Wife," that the reader will need no in- 
 formation on this subject. Some of his friends 
 wished this violent attachment had been cast 
 more into the shade ; as tending to furnish a spur, 
 where human nature generally needs a curb. He 
 used, indeed, to speak of such attachments, in 
 
HIS CHARACTER. 
 
 225 
 
 the abstract, as idolatry; though his own was 
 providentially ordered to be the main hinge on 
 which his preservation and deliverance turned, 
 while in his worst state. Good men, however, 
 cannot be too cautious how they give sanction, 
 by their expressions or example, to a passion, 
 which, when not under sober regulation, has over- 
 whelmed not only families, but states, with dis- 
 grace and ruin. 
 
 With his unusual degree of benevolence and 
 affection, it was not extraordinary that the spi- 
 ritual interests of his servants were brought for- 
 ward, and examined severally every Sunday af- 
 ternoon: nor that, being treated like children, 
 they should grow old in his service. In short, 
 Mr. Newton could live no longer than he could 
 love : it is no wonder, therefore, if his nieces had 
 more of his heart than is generally afforded to 
 their own children by the fondest parents. It has 
 already been mentioned that his house was an 
 asylum for the perplexed or afflicted. Young mi- 
 nisters were peculiarly the objects of his atten- 
 tion: he instructed them; he encouraged them ; 
 he warned them ; and might truly be said to be a 
 father in Christ, spending and being spent, for the 
 interest of his church. In order thus to execute 
 the various avocations of the day, he used to rise 
 early : he seldom was found abroad in the even- 
 ing, and was exact in his appointments. 
 
226 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 Of his writings, I think little needs to be said 
 here ; they are in wide circulation, and best speak 
 for themselves. 
 
 The ft Sermons" which Mr. Newton published 
 at Liverpool, after being refused on his first ap- 
 plication for orders, were intended to show what 
 he would have preached, had he been admitted: 
 they are highly creditable to his understanding 
 and to his heart. The facility with which he at- 
 tained so much of the learned languages seems 
 partly accounted for, from his being able to ac- 
 quire so early, a neat and natural style in his own 
 language, and that under such evident disadvan- 
 tages. His f ' Review of Ecclesiastical History. ' 
 so far as it proceeded, has been much esteemed; 
 and, if it had done no more than excite the Rev. 
 Joseph Milner (as that most valuable and instruc- 
 tive author informs us it did) to pursue Mr. New- 
 ton's idea more largely, it was sufficient success 
 Before this, the world seems to have lost sight 
 of a history of real Christianity ; and to have been 
 content with what, for the most part, was but an 
 account of the ambition and politics of secular 
 men assuming the christian name. 
 
 It must be evident to any one who observes 
 the spirit of all his Sermons, Hymns, Tracts, &c 
 that nothing is aimed at which should be met 
 by critical investigation. In the preface to his 
 Hymns, he remarks, Though I would not offend 
 
HIS CHARACTER. 
 
 227 
 
 leaders of taste by a wilful coarseness and negli- 
 gence, I do not write professedly for them. I have 
 simply declared my own views and feelings, as I 
 might have done if I had composed hymns in 
 some of the newly discovered islands in the South 
 ^ea, where no person had any knowledge of the 
 name of Jesus but myself." 
 
 To dwell, therefore, with a critical eye on this 
 part of his public character would be absurd and 
 impertinent : it would be to erect a tribunal to 
 which he seems not amenable. He appears to 
 have paid no regard to a nice ear, or an accurate 
 reviewer ; but preferring a style at once neat and 
 perspicuous, to have laid out himself entirely for 
 the service of the Church of God, and more es- 
 pecially for the tried and experienced part of its 
 members. 
 
 His chief excellence, as a writer, seemed to lie 
 in the easy and natural style of his epistolary 
 correspondence. His letters will be read while 
 real religion exists ; and they are the best draught 
 of his own mind. 
 
 He had so largely communicated with his 
 friends in this way, that I have heard him say, 
 he thought if his letters were collected they 
 would make several folios. He selected many of 
 these for publication; and expressed a hope that 
 ?no other person would take that liberty with the 
 rest, which were so widely spread abroad. In 
 
228 LIFE OF EEV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 this, however, he was disappointed and grieved \ 
 as he once remarked to me : and for which rea- 
 son I do not annex any letters that I received from 
 him. He esteemed that collection published un- 
 der the title of r< Cardiphonia," as the most useful 
 of his writings, and mentioned various instances 
 of the benefits which he heard they had conveyed 
 to many. 
 
 His " Apologia," or defence of conformity, was 
 written on occasion of some reflections (perhaps 
 only jocular) cast on him at that time. His "Let- 
 ters to a Wife," written during his three voyages 
 to Africa, and published in 1793, have been 
 received with less satisfaction than most of his 
 other writings. While, however, his advanced 
 age and inordinate fondness may be pleaded for 
 this publication, care should be taken lest men 
 fall into a contrary extreme ; and suppose that 
 temper to be their wisdom, whicn leads them to 
 avoid another, which they consider as his weak- 
 ness. But his "Messiah," before mentioned, his 
 Letters of the Rev. Mr. Vanlier, Chaplain at the 
 Cape — his Memoirs of the Rev. John Cowper, 
 (brother to the poet,) and those of the Rev. Mr. 
 Grimshaw, of Yorkshire, together with his single 
 sermons and tracts, have been well received, and 
 will remain a public benefit. 
 
 I recollect reading a MS. which Mr. Newton 
 lent me, containing a correspondence that had 
 
HIS CHARACTER. 
 
 229 
 
 passed between himself and the Rev. Dr. Dixon, 
 Principal of St. Edmund Hall, Oxford ; and an- 
 other MS. of a correspondence between him and 
 ; the late Rev. Martin Madan. They would have 
 i been very interesting to the public, particularly 
 | the latter 5 and were striking evidences of Mr. 
 • Newton's humility, piety and faithfulness : but 
 I reasons of delicacy led him to commit the whole 
 to the flames. 
 
 To speak of his writings in the mass, they cer- 
 tainly possess what many have aimed at, but very 
 jfew attained, namely, originality. They are the 
 1 language of the heart: they .show a deep expe- 
 dience of its religious feelings 5 a continual anx- 
 liety to sympathize with man in his wants, and to 
 I direct him to his only resources. 
 
 His conversation and familiar habits with his 
 friends were more peculiar, amusing and instruc- 
 tive, than any I ever witnessed. It is difficult to 
 i convey a clear idea of them by description. I 
 
 ■ venture, therefore, to add a few pages of what I 
 
 ■ may call his Table-Talk, which I took down at 
 different times, both in company and in private, 
 
 t rom his lips. Such a collection of printed re- 
 ) narks will not have so much point, as when 
 spoken in connection with the occasions that pro- 
 duced them : they must appear to considerable 
 disadvantage, thus detached 5 and candid allow- 
 mce should be made by the reader on this ac- 
 
 Newton. 20 
 
230 LIFE OF REV. JOHN MEWTON. 
 
 count. They, however, who had the privilege of 
 Mr. Newton's conversation when living, cannot 
 but recognise the speaker in most of them, and 
 derive both profit and pleasure from these re- 
 mains of their late valuable friend ; and such as 
 had not, will (if I do not mistake) think them the 
 most valuable part of this book. 
 
 REMARKS 
 
 MADE BY MR. NEWTON IN FAMILIAR CONVERSATION, 
 
 While the mariner uses the loadstone, the phi- 
 losopher may attempt to investigate the cause ; 
 but after all, in steering through the ocean, he 
 can make no other use of it than the mariner. 
 
 If an angel were sent to find the most per- 
 fect man, he would probably not find him com- 
 posing a body of divinity, but perhaps a cripple 
 in a poor house, whom the parish wish dead, and 
 humbled before God with far lower thoughts of 
 himself than others have of him. 
 
 When a christian goes into the world because 
 he sees it is his ca//, yet, while he feels it also 
 his cross, it will not hurt him. 
 
FAMILIAR REMARKS. 
 
 231 
 
 Satan will seldom come to a christian with a 
 gross temptation: a green log and a candle may 
 be safely left together ; but bring a few shavings, 
 then some small sticks, and then larger, and you 
 may soon bring the green log to ashes. 
 
 If two angels were sent from heaven to execute 
 a divine command, one to conduct an empire, and 
 the other to sweep a street in it, they would feel 
 » no inclination to change employments. 
 
 What some call providential openings are often 
 > powerful temptations ; the heart, in wandering, 
 I cries, Here is a way opened before me: — but, 
 t perhaps, not to be trodden but rejected. 
 
 I should have thought mowers very idle peo- 
 ple ; but they work while they whet their scythes. 
 Now devotedness to God, whether it mows or 
 whets the scythe, still goes on with the work. 
 
 A christian should never plead spirituality for 
 being a sloven ; if he be but a shoe-cleaner, he 
 should be the best in the parish. 
 
 My course of study, like that of a surgeon, has 
 principally consisted in walking the hospital. 
 
 My principal method of defeating heresy, is 
 by establishing truth. One proposes to fill a 
 bushel with tares ; now if I can fill it first with 
 wheat, I shall defy his attempts. 
 
 When some people talk of religion, they mean 
 • they have heard so many sermons, and perform- 
 l ed so many devotions, and thus mistake the means 
 
232 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 for the end. But true religion is an habitual re- 
 collection of God and intention to serve him, and 
 this turns every thing into gold. We are apt to 
 suppose that we need something splendid to 
 evince our devotion, but true devotion equals 
 things — washing plates and cleaning shoes is a 
 high office, if performed in a right spirit. If three 
 angels were sent to earth, they would feel per- 
 fect indifference who should perform the part of 
 prime minister, parish minister, or watchman. 
 
 When a ship goes to sea, among a vast variety 
 of its articles and circumstances, there is but one 
 object regarded, namely, doing the business of the 
 voyage: every bucket is employed with respect 
 to that. 
 
 Many have puzzled themselves about the ori- 
 gin of evil ; I observe there is evil, and that there 
 is a way to escape it, and with this I begin and end. 
 
 Consecrated things under the law were first 
 sprinkled with blood, and then anointed with oil, 
 and thenceforward were no more common. Thus 
 under the Gospel, every christian has been a 
 common vessel for profane purposes 5 but when 
 sprinkled with the blood of Christ, and anointed 
 by God the Father, (2 Cor. 1 : 21,) he becomes 
 separated and consecrated to God. 
 
 I would not give a straw for that assurance 
 which sin will not damp. If David had come 
 from his adultery, and had talked of Lis assu- 
 
FAMILIAR REMARKS. 
 
 233 
 
 ranee at that time, I should have despised his 
 speech. 
 
 A spirit of adoption is the spirit of a child ; he 
 may disoblige his father, yet he is not afraid of 
 being turned out of doors : the union is not dis- 
 solved, though the communion is. He is not well 
 with his father, therefore must be unhappy, as 
 their interests are inseparable. 
 
 We often seek to apply cordials when the pa- 
 tient is not prepared for them, and it is the pa- 
 tient's advantage, that he cannot take a medicine 
 when prematurely offered. When a man comes 
 to me and says, "I am quite happy," I am not 
 sorry to find him come again with some fears. 
 I never saw a work stand well without a check. 
 {f I only want," says one, H to be sure of being 
 safe, and then I will go on." No ; perhaps, then 
 you will go off. 
 
 For an old christian to say to a young one, 
 rr Stand in my evidence," is like a man who has 
 with difficulty climbed by a ladder or scaffold- 
 ing to the top of the house, and cries to one 
 at the bottom, M This is a place for a prospect — 
 come up at a step." 
 
 A christian in the world is like a man who has 
 had a long intimacy with one, whom at length he 
 finds out to have been the murderer of a kind 
 father ; the intimacy, after this, will surely be 
 broken. 
 
 20* 
 
234 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 <r Except a man be born again, he cannot see 
 the kingdom of God." A man may live in a deep 
 mine in Hungary, never having seen the light of 
 the sun; he may have received accounts of pros 
 pects, and by the help of a candle may have ex 
 amined a few engravings of them ; but let him be 
 brought out of the mine, and set on the mountain, 
 what a difference appears ! 
 
 Candor will always allow much for inexpe- 
 rience. I have been thirty years forming my own 
 views, and in the course of this time some of my 
 hills have been sinking, and some of my valleys 
 have risen ; but how unreasonable would it be tc 
 expect all this should take place in another per 
 son, and that in the course of a year or two. 
 
 Candor forbids us to estimate a character froir 
 its accidental blots. Yet it is thus that David and 
 others have been treated. 
 
 There is the analogy of faith : it is a master-key 
 which not only opens particular doors, but carries 
 you through the whole house ; but an attach- 
 ment to a rigid system is dangerous. Luther once 
 turned out the epistle of St. James, because it 
 disturbed his system. I shall preach, perhaps, 
 very usefully upon two seemingly opposite texts 
 while kept apart ; but if I attempt nicely to re 
 concile them, it is ten to one if I don't begin U 
 bungle. 
 
 I can conceive a living man without an arm or 
 
FAMILIAR REMARKS. 
 
 235 
 
 leg, but not without a head or a heart ; so there 
 are some truths essential to vital religion, and 
 which all awakened souls are taught. 
 
 Apostacy, in all its branches, takes its rise 
 from atheism. "I have set the Lord always 
 before me," &c. 
 
 We are surprised at the fall of a famous pro- 
 fessor* but, in the sight of God he was gone be- 
 fore ; it is only we that have now first discovered 
 it. " He that despiseth small things, shall fall by 
 little nnd little." 
 
 There are critical times of danger. After great 
 i services, honors and consolations, we should 
 stand upon our guard. Noah, Lot, David, Solo- 
 mon, fell in these circumstances. Satan is a foot- 
 pad : a footpad will not attack a man in going to 
 the bank, but in returning with his pocket full of 
 money. 
 
 A christian is like a young nobleman, who, on 
 going to receive his estate, is at first enchanted 
 with its prospects ; this in a course of time may 
 wear off, but a sense of the value of the estate 
 grows daily. 
 
 When we first enter into the divine life, we 
 propose to grow rich ; God's plan is to make us 
 feel poor. 
 
 Good men have need to take heed of building 
 upon groundless impressions. Mr. Whitfield had 
 a son who, he imagined, was born to be a very 
 
236 
 
 LIFE OF KEY. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 extraordinary man ; but the son soon died, and 
 the father was cured of his mistake. 
 
 I remember, in going to undertake the care of 
 a congregation, I was reading as I walked in a 
 green lane, M Fear not, Paul, I have much people 
 in this city." But I soon afterward was disap- 
 pointed in finding that Paul was not John, and 
 that Corinth was not Warwick. 
 
 Christ has taken our nature into heaven to re« 
 present us ; and has left us on earth with his na- 
 ture to represent him. 
 
 Worldly men will be true to their principles ; 
 and if we were as true to ours, the visits between 
 the two parties would be short and seldom. 
 
 A christian in the world is like a man transact- 
 ing his affairs in the rain. He will not suddenly 
 leave his client because it rains ; but the moment 
 the business is done, he is off: as it is said in the 
 Acts, " Being let go, they went to their own 
 company." 
 
 God's word is certainly a restraint ; but it is 
 such a restraint as the irons which prevent chil- 
 dren from getting into the fire. 
 
 God deals with us as we do with our children; 
 he first speaks, then gives a gentle stroke, at last 
 a blow. 
 
 The religion of a sinner stands on two pillars, 
 namely, what Christ did for us in his flesh, and 
 what he performs in us by his Spirit. Most er 
 
FAMILIAR REMARKS. 
 
 237 
 
 rors arise from an attempt to separate these two. 
 
 Man is not taught any thing to purpose till God 
 becomes his teacher, and then the glare of the 
 world is put out, and the value of the soul rises 
 in full view. A man's present sentiments may not 
 be accurate, but we make too much of sentiments. 
 We pass a held with a few blades, we call it a 
 i j eld of wheat ; but here is no wheat ; no, not in 
 perfection, but wheat is sown, and full ears may 
 be expected. 
 
 Contrivers of sytems on the earth are like con- 
 trivers of systems in the heavens ; Avhere the sun 
 and moon keep the same course in spite of the 
 philosophers. 
 
 I endeavor to walk through the world as a 
 physician goes through Bedlam : the patients 
 make a noise, pester him with impertinence, and 
 hinder him in his business; but he does the best 
 he can, and so gets through. 
 
 A man always in society is one always on the 
 spend ; on the other hand, a mere solitary is at 
 his best but a candle in an empty room. 
 
 If we were upon the watch for improvement, 
 the common news of the day would furnish it; 
 the falling of the tower in Siloam, and the slaugh- 
 ter of the Galileans, were the news of the day 
 which our Lord improved. 
 
 The generality make out their righteousness 
 by comparing themselves with some others whom 
 
238 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 they think worse ; thus a woman of the town, 
 who was in the Lock Hospital, was offended at a 
 minister speaking to her as a sinner, because she 
 had never picked a pocket. 
 
 Take away a toy from a child and give him 
 another, and he is satisfied; but if he be hun- 
 gry, no toy will do. Thus, as new-born babes, 
 true believers desire the sincere milk of the 
 word; and the desire of grace in this way is 
 grace. 
 
 One said that the great saints in the calendar 
 were many of them poor sinners ; Mr. Newton 
 replied they were poor saints indeed, if they did 
 not feel that they were great sinners. 
 
 A wise man looks upon men as he does upon 
 horses, and considers their caparisons of title, 
 wealth and place, but as harness. 
 
 The force of what we deliver from the pulpit 
 is often lost by a starched, and what is frequently 
 called a correct style ; and, especially, by adding 
 meretricious ornaments. I called upon a lady who 
 had been robbed, and she gave me a striking ac- 
 count of the fact ; but had she put it into heroics, 
 I should neither so well have understood her, 
 nor been so well convinced that she had been 
 robbed. 
 
 When a man says he received a blessing un- 
 der a sermon, I begin to inquire the character of 
 the man who speaks of the help he has received. 
 
FAMILIAR REMARKS. 
 
 239 
 
 The Roman people proved the effect they re- 
 ceived under a sermon of Antony, when they 
 flew to avenge the death of Caesar. 
 
 The Lord has reason far beyond our ken, for 
 opening a wide door while he stops the mouth of 
 I a useful preacher. John Bunyan would not have 
 < done half the good he did if he had remained 
 preaching in Bedford instead of being shut up in 
 Bedford prison. 
 
 If I could go to France, and give every man 
 I in it a right and peaceable mind by my labor, I 
 
 0 should have a statue: but, to produce such an 
 - effect in the conversion of one soul, would be a 
 
 1 far greater achievement. 
 
 Ministers would over-rate their labors, if they 
 I did not think it worth while to be born, and spend 
 I ten thousand years in labor and contempt, to re- 
 cover one soul. 
 
 Do not tell me of your feelings. A traveller 
 would be glad of fine weather, but if he be a man 
 of business, he will go on. Bunyan says, You 
 must not judge of a man's haste by his horse, for 
 when the horse can hardly move you may see, by 
 the rider's urging him, what a hurry he is in. 
 
 A man and a beast may stand upon the same 
 mountain, and even touch one another ; yet they 
 are in two different worlds : the beast perceives 
 nothing but the grass ; but the man contemplates 
 the prospect, and thinks of a thousand remote 
 
240 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 things. Thus a christian may be solitary at a full 
 exchange : he can converse with the people there 
 upon trade, politics and the stocks ; but they 
 cannot talk with him upon the peace of God which 
 passeth all understanding. 
 
 It is a mere fallacy to talk of the sins of a short 
 life. The sinner is always a sinner. Put a pump 
 into a river, you may throw out some water, but 
 the river remains. 
 
 Professors who own the doctrines of free 
 grace, often act inconsistently with their own 
 principles when they are angry at the defects 
 of others. 
 
 We should take care that we do not make our 
 profession of religion a receipt in full for all other 
 obligations. A man truly illuminated will no more 
 despise others than Bartimeus, after his own eyes 
 were opened, would take a stick and beat every 
 blind man he met. 
 
 We much mistake, in supposing that the re- 
 moval of a particular objection would satisfy the 
 objector. Suppose I am in bed, and want to know 
 whether it be light, it is not enough if I draw 
 back the curtain ; for though there be light, I 
 must have eyes to see it. 
 
 Too deep a consideration of eternal realities 
 might unfit a man for his present circumstances. 
 Walking through St. Bartholomew's Hospital, or 
 Bedlam, must deeply affect a feeling mind j but, 
 
MINISTRY IN LONDON. 
 
 205 
 
 Ccelum, non animum mutant, qui trans mare currant * 
 
 " 1 trust, my dear sir, that you will carry out 
 and bring home with you, a determination simi- 
 lar to that of the patriarch Jacob, who vowed a 
 vow, saying, * If God will be with me, and will 
 keep me in the way that I go, and will give me 
 bread to eat, and raiment to put on, so that I 
 come again to my father's house in peace, then 
 shall the Lord be my God !' May the Lord him- 
 self write it on your heart ! 
 
 " You are now at Rome, the centre of the fine 
 arts ; a place abounding with every thing to gra- 
 tify a person of your taste. Athens had the pre- 
 eminence in the apostle Paul's time ; and I think 
 it highly probable, from many passages in his 
 writings, that he likewise had a taste capable of 
 admiring and relishing the beauties of painting ) 
 sculpture and architecture, which he could not 
 but observe during his abode in that city: but 
 then he had a higher, a spiritual, a divine taste, 
 which was greatly shocked and grieved by the 
 ignorance, idolatry and wickedness, which sur- 
 rounded him, insomuch that he could attend to 
 nothing else. This taste, which cannot be ac- 
 quired by any effort or study of ours, but is 
 freely bestowed on all who sincerely ask it of 
 
 * They who cross the ocean change their sky but not the 
 emotions of the soul. 
 
 Newton. 
 
 18 
 
LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 the Lord, divests the vanities, which the world 
 admire, of their glare ; and enables us to judge 
 of the most splendid and specious works of men, 
 who know not God, according to the declaration 
 of the prophet, ' They hatch cockatrice eggs, 
 and weave the spider's web.' Much ingenuity is 
 displayed in the weaving of a cobweb, but when 
 finished, it is worthless and useless: incubation 
 requires close diligence and attention; if the 
 hen is too long from her nest, the egg is spoil- 
 ed ; but why should she sit at all upon the egg, 
 and watch it, and warm it night and day, if it 
 only produces a cockatrice at last! Thus vanity 
 and mischief are the chief rulers of unsanctified 
 genius ; the artists spin webs, and the philoso- 
 phers, by their learned speculations, hatch cock- 
 atrices, to poison themselves and their fellow- 
 creatures : few of either sort have one serious 
 thought ®f that awful eternity upon the brink of 
 which they stand for a while, and into the depth 
 of which they successively fall. 
 
 " A part of the sentence denounced against 
 the city, which once stood upon seven hills, is so 
 pointed and graphical that I must transcribe it: 
 f And the voice of harpers, and musicians, and 
 pipers, and trumpeters, shall be heard no more 
 at all in thee ; and no craftsman, of whatsoever 
 craft he be, shall be found any more in thee, 
 and the light of a candle shall no more be seen 
 
MINISTRY IN LONDON. 
 
 207 
 
 in thee.' Now, I am informed, that upon certain 
 occasions the whole cupola of St. Peter's is 
 covered with lamps, and affords a very magnifi- 
 cent spectacle : if I saw it, it would remind me 
 of that time when there will not be the shining 
 of a single candle in the city ; for the sentence 
 must be executed, and the hour may be ap- 
 proaching. 
 
 " You kindly inquire after my health : myself 
 and family are, through the Divine favor, perfect- 
 ly well ; yet, healthy as I am, I labor under a 
 growing disorder, for which there is no cure ; I 
 mean old age. I am not sorry it is a mortal dis- 
 ease, from which no one recovers ; for who would 
 live always in such a world as this, who has a 
 Scriptural hope of an inheritance in the world of 
 light 1 I am now in my seventy-second year, and 
 seem to have lived long enough for myself ; I 
 have known something of the evil of life, and 
 have had a large share of the good. I know what 
 the world can do, and what it cannot do ; it can 
 neither give nor take away that peace of God 
 whieh passeth all understanding; it cannot sooth 
 a wounded conscience, nor enable us to meet 
 death with comfort. That you, my dear sir, may 
 have an abiding and abounding experience that 
 the Gospel is a catholicon, adapted to all our 
 wants and all our feelings, and a suitable help 
 when every other help fails, is the sincere and 
 
208 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 ardent prayer of your affectionate friend," &c 
 
 But in proportion as Mr. Newton felt the vanity 
 of earthly pursuits, he was as feelingly alive to 
 whatever regarded eternal concerns. Take an in 
 stance of this in a visit which he paid another 
 friend. This friend was a minister who affected 
 great accuracy in his discourses, and who, on that 
 Sunday, had nearly occupied an hour in insisting 
 on several labored and nice distinctions made in 
 his subject. As he had a high estimation of Mr. 
 Newton's judgment, he inquired of him, as they 
 walked home, whether he thought the distinc- 
 tions just now insisted on were full and judi- 
 cious 1 Mr. Newton said he thought them not 
 full, as a very important one had been omitted. 
 "What can that be % n . said the minister, " for I 
 had taken more than ordinary care to enumerate 
 them fully." " I think not," replied Mr. Newten, 
 " for when many of your congregation had tra- 
 velled several miles for a meal, I think you 
 should not have forgotten the important distinc- 
 tion which must ever exist between meat and 
 bones." /-.» 
 
 In the year 1799 Mr. Newton had the honorary 
 degree of D. D. conferred upon him by the uni- 
 versity of New Jersey, in America, and the di- 
 ploma sent him. He also received a work in two 
 volumes, dedicated to him, with the above title 
 
MINISTRY IN LONDON. 
 
 209 
 
 annexed to his name. Mr. Newton wrote the au- 
 thor a grateful acknowledgment for the work, 
 but begged to decline an honor which he never 
 intended to accept. "I am," said he, "as one 
 born out of due time.* I have neither the preten- 
 sion nor wish to honors of this kind. However, 
 therefore, the university may over-rate my at- 
 tainments, and thus show their respect, I must 
 C not forget myself; it would be both vain and im- 
 proper were I to concur in it." 
 
 But Mr. Newton had yet another storm to 
 weather. While we were contemplating the long 
 and rough voyage he had passed, and thought he 
 
 * In a MS. note on a letter dated 15th Dec. 1797, he 
 writes, "Though I am not so sensibly affected as 1 could wish, 
 I hope I am truly affected by the frequent reviews I make 
 of my past life. Perhaps the annals of Thy church scarcely 
 afford an instance in all respects so singular. Perhaps Thy 
 grace may have recovered some from an equal degree of 
 apostacy, infidelity and profligacy : but few of them have 
 • been redeemed from such a state of misery and depression as 
 i I was in, upon the coast of Africa, when thy unsought mercy 
 I wrought for my deliverance : but that such a wretch should 
 [ not only be spared, and pardoned, but reserved to the honor 
 of preaching Thy Gospel, which he had blasphemed and re- 
 nounced, and at length be placed in a very public situation, 
 I and favored with acceptance and usefulness, both from the 
 pulpit and the press, so that my poor name is known in most 
 parts of the world where there are any who know Thee — 
 this is wonderful indeed ! The more Thou hast exalted me, 
 i the more I ought to abase myself." 
 
 18* 
 
210 
 
 LITE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON, 
 
 had only now to rest in a quiet haven, and with a 
 fine sunsetting at the close of the evening of his 
 life ; clouds began to gather again, and seemed 
 to threaten a wreck at the very entry of the port. 
 
 He used to make excursions in the summer to 
 different friends in the country, endeavoring to 
 make these visits profitable to them and their 
 neighbors, by his continual prayers, and the ex- 
 positions he gave of the Scriptures read at their 
 morning and evening worship. I have heard of 
 some who were first brought to the knowledge 
 of themselves and of God by attending his exhor- 
 tations on these occasions ; for, indeed, besides 
 what he undertook in a more stated way at the 
 church, he seldom entered a room but something 
 both profitable and entertaining fell from his lips. 
 After the death of Miss Cunningham and Mrs. 
 Newton, his companion in these summer excur- 
 sions was his other niece, Miss Elizabeth Catlett. 
 This young lady had also been brought up by 
 Mr. and Mrs. Newton with Miss Cunningham, 
 and on the death of the two latter, she became 
 the object of Mr. Newton's naturally affectionate 
 disposition. She also became quite necessary to 
 him by her administrations in his latter years; 
 she watched him, walked with him, visited where- 
 ever he went ; when his sight failed she read to 
 him, divided his food, and was unto him all that 
 a dutiful daughter could be. 
 
MINISTRY IH LONDON. 
 
 211 
 
 But in the year 1S01 a nervous disorder seized 
 her, by which Mr. Xewton was obliged to submit 
 to her being separated from him. During the 
 twelvemonth it lasted, the weight of the affliction, 
 added to his weight of years, seemed to over- 
 whelm him. I extracted a few of his reflections 
 on the occasion, written on some blank leaves in 
 an edition of his Letters to a Wife, which he 
 lent me on my undertaking these Memoirs, and 
 subjoin them in a note.* It may give the reader 
 
 * " August 1st, 1801. I now enter ray 77th year. I have 
 been exercised this year with a trying and unexpected 
 change; but it is by thy appointment, my gracious Lord; 
 and thou art unchangeably wise, good and merciful. Thou 
 gavest me my dear adopted child. Thou didst own my en- 
 deavors to bring her up for thee. I have no doubt that thou 
 hast called her by thy grace. I thank thee for the many 
 years' comfort (ten) I have had in her, and for the attention 
 and affection she has always shown me, exceeding that of 
 most daughters to their own parents. Thou hast now tried 
 me, as thou didst Abraham, in my old age ; when my eyes are 
 failing, and my strength declines. Thou hast called for my 
 Isaac, who had so long been my chief stay and staff, but it 
 was thy chief blessing that made her so. A nervous disor- 
 der has seized her, and I desire to leave her under thy care ; 
 and chiefly prav for myself, that I may be enabled to wait 
 thy time and will, without betraying any signs of impatience 
 or despondency unbecoming my profession and character. 
 Hitherto thou hast helped me; and to thee I look for help 
 in future. Let all issue in ihy glory, that my friends and 
 hearers may be encouraged by seeing how I am supported ; 
 let thy strength be manifest in my weakness, and thy grace 
 
LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 pleasure to be informed that Miss Catlett return- 
 ed home and gradually recovered.* 
 
 It was with a mixture of delight and surprise 
 that the friends and hearers of this eminent ser- 
 vant of God beheld him bringing forth such a 
 measure of fruit in extreme age. Though then al- 
 most eighty years old, his sight nearly gone, and 
 incapable, through deafness, of joining in conver- 
 sation, his public ministry was regularly conti- 
 nued, and maintained with a considerable degree 
 of his former animation. His memory, indeed, 
 was observed to fail, but his judgment in divine 
 things still remained ; and though some depres- 
 sion of spirits was observed, which he used to 
 account for from his advanced age, his percep- 
 tion, taste and zeal for the truths he had long re- 
 ceived and taught, were evident. Like Simeon, 
 having seen the salvation of the Lord, he now 
 only waited and prayed to depart in peace. 
 
 be sufficient for me, and let all finally work together for our 
 good. Amen. I aim to say from my heart, Not my will, but 
 thine, be done. But though thou hast in a measure made my 
 spirit willing, thou knowest, and I feel, that the flesh is 
 weak. Lord, I believe, help thou my unbelief. Lord, I sub- 
 mit, subdue every rebellious thought that dares arise agains» 
 thy will. Spare my eyes, if it please thee : but, above all, 
 strengthen my faith and love." 
 
 * Mr. Newton's Letters to a Niece were written to her: 
 they are published by the American Tract Society 5 Series 
 5. No. 7. 
 
MINISTRY IX LONDON. 
 
 213 
 
 After Mr. Newton was turned of eighty some 
 of his friends feared he might continue his public 
 ministrations too long; they marked not only his 
 infirmities in the pulpit, but felt much on account 
 of the decrease of his strength and of his occa* 
 sional depressions. Conversing with him in Ja- 
 nuary, 1806, on the latter, he observed that he 
 had experienced nothing which in the least af- 
 fected the principles he had felt and taught; that 
 his depressions were the natural result of four- 
 score years, and that, at any age, we can only en- 
 joy that comfort from our principles which God 
 is pleased to send. But," replied I, " in the ar- 
 ticle of public preaching, might it not be best to 
 consider your work as done, and stop before you 
 evidently discover you can speak no longer 1" 
 " I cannot stop," said he, raising his voice ; 
 " What ! shall the old African blasphemer stop 
 while he can speak V 
 
 In every future visit I perceived old age mak- 
 ing rapid strides. At length his friends found 
 some difficulty in making themselves known to 
 him : his sight, his hearing and his recollection 
 exceedingly failed; but, being mercifully kept 
 from pain, he generally appeared easy and cheer- 
 ful. Whatever he uttered was perfectly consist- 
 ent with the principles he had so long and so 
 honorably maintained. Calling to see him a few 
 days before he died, with one of his most inti- 
 
214 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 mate friends, we could not make him recollect 
 either of us ; but seeing him afterward, when sit- 
 ting up in his chair, I found as much intellect 
 remaining as produced a short and affectionate 
 reply, though he was utterly incapable of con- 
 versation. 
 
 Mr. Newton declined in this very gradual way, 
 till at length it was painful to ask him a question, 
 or attempt to rouse faculties almost gone ; still 
 his friends were anxious to get a word from him, 
 and those friends who survive him will be as 
 anxious to learn the state of his mind in his 
 latest hours. It is quite natural thus to inquire, 
 though it is not important how such a decided 
 character left this world. I have heard Mr. New- 
 ton say, when he has heard particular inquiry 
 made about the last expressions of an eminent 
 believer, " Tell me not how the man died, but 
 how he lived." 
 
 Still I say it is natural to inquire, and I will 
 meet the desire (not by trying to expand Un- 
 interesting particulars, but) as far as I can col- 
 lect encouraging facts ; and I learn, from a pa- 
 per kindly sent me by his family, all that is in- 
 teresting and authentic. 
 
 About a month before Mr. Newton's death, Mr. 
 Smith's niece was sitting by him, to whom he 
 said, " It is a great thing to die ; and when flesh 
 and heart fail, to have God for the strength of 
 
HIS DEATH. 
 
 215 
 
 our heart, and our portion for ever: I know 
 whom I have believed, and he is able to keep 
 that which I have committed unto him against 
 that day. Henceforth there is laid up for me a 
 crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the 
 righteous Judge, shall give me at that day." 
 
 When Mrs. Smith (his niece, formerly Miss 
 Catlett) came into the room, he said, "I have 
 been meditating on a subject, ' Come and hear, 
 all ye that fear God, and I will declare what he 
 hath done for my soul/ " 
 
 At another time he said, "More light, more 
 love, more liberty — Hereafter I hope, when I 
 shut my eyes on the things of time, I shall open 
 them in a better world. What a thing it is to 
 live under the shadow of the wings of the Al- 
 mighty! I am going the way of all flesh." And 
 when one replied, "The Lord is gracious," he 
 answered, " If it were not so, how could I dare 
 to stand before him 1" 
 
 The Wednesday before he died Mrs. G 
 
 asked him if his mind was comfortable ; he re- 
 plied, " I am satisfied with the Lord's will." 
 
 Mr. Newton seemed sensible to his last hour, 
 but expressed nothing remarkable after these 
 words. He departed on the 21st, and was buried 
 in the vault of his church, the 31st of December, 
 1807, having left the following injunction, in a 
 letter, for the direction of his executors: 
 
216 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 " I propose writing an epitaph for myself, if it 
 may be put up, on a plain marble tablet, near the 
 vestry-door, to the following purport: 
 
 JOHN NEWTON, Clerk, 
 Once an Infidel and Libertine, 
 A servant of slaves in Africa, 
 Was, by the rich mercy of our Lord and Savior 
 JESUS CHRIST, 
 Preserved, restored, pardoned, 
 And appointed to preach the Faith, 
 (He had long labored to destroy,) 
 Near sixteen years at Olney, in Bucks, 
 And . . years in this church. 
 On Feb. 1, 1750, he married 
 MARY, 
 
 Daughter of the late George Catleit, 
 Of Chatham, Kent. 
 He resigned her to the Lord who gave her, 
 On the 15th of December, 1790. 
 
 " And I earnestly desire that no other monu- 
 ment, and no inscription but to this purport, may 
 be attempted for me." 
 
 The following is a copy of the beginning of 
 Mr. Newton's will, dated June 13, 1S03: 
 
 " In the name of God, Amen. I, John Newton, 
 of Coleman-street Buildings, in the parish of St. 
 Stephen, Coleman-street, in the city of London, 
 Clerk, being, through mercy, in good health and 
 of sound and disposing ♦mind, memory and un- 
 derstanding, although in the seventy-eighth year 
 
FAMILIAR REMARKS. 241 
 
 in reality, this world is a far worse scene. It has 
 but two wards : in the one, men are miserable ; 
 in the other, mad. 
 
 Some preachers near Olney dwelt on the doc- 
 trine of predestination: an old woman said — Ah! 
 I have long settled that point : for, if God had 
 not chosen me before I was born, I am sure he 
 would have seen nothing in me to have chosen 
 me for afterwards. 
 
 I see the unprofitableness of controversy in the 
 case of Job and his friends: for, if God had not 
 interposed, had they lived to this day, they would 
 have continued the dispute. 
 
 It is pure mercy that negatives a particular re- 
 quest. A miser would pray very earnestly for 
 gold, if he believed prayer would gain it ; whereas, 
 if Christ had any favor to him he would take his 
 gold away. A child walks in the garden in spring, 
 and sees cherries; he knows they are good fruit, 
 and therefore asks for them. " No, my dear," 
 says the father, ff they are not yet ripe; stay till 
 the season." 
 
 If I cannot take pleasure in infirmities, I can 
 sometimes feel the profit of them. I can con- 
 ceive a king to pardon a rebel, and take him into 
 his family, and then say, " I appoint you for a 
 season to wear a fetter. At a certain season I 
 will send a messenger to knock it off. In the 
 mean time this fetter will serve to remind you 
 
 Newton. 2 1 
 
242 
 
 LIFE OF REV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 of your state ; it may humble you and restrain 
 you from rambling." 
 
 Some christians, at a glance, seem of superior 
 order ; and are not: they want a certain quality. 
 At a florist's feast the other day, a certain flower 
 was determined to bear the bell ; but it was found 
 to be an artificial flower : there is a quality called 
 growth which it had not. 
 
 Doctor Taylor, of Norwich, said to me, " Sir, 
 I have collated every word in the Hebrew Scrip- 
 tures seventeen times ; and it is very strange if 
 the doctrine of atonement, which you hold, should 
 not have been found by me." I am not surprised 
 at this : I once went to light my candle with the 
 extinguisher on it : now, prejudices from educa- 
 tion, learning, &c. often form an extinguisher. 
 It is not enough that you bring the candle : you 
 must remove the extinguisher. 
 
 I measure ministers by square measure. I have 
 no idea of the size of a table, if you only tell me 
 how long it is ; but, if you also say how wide, I 
 can tell its dimensions. So, when you tell me what 
 a man is in the pulpit, you must also tell me what 
 he is out of it, or I shall not know his size. 
 
 A man should be born to high things not to 
 ose himself in them. Slaters will walk on the 
 ridge of a house with ease, which would turn 
 our heads. 
 
 Much depends on the way we come into trou- 
 
FAMILIAR REMAKES. 
 
 243 
 
 ble. Paul and Jonah were both in a storm, but in 
 very different circumstances. 
 
 1 have read of many wicked Popes, but the 
 worst Pope I ever met with is Pope Self. 
 
 The men of this world are children. Offer a 
 child an apple and a bank note, he will doubtless 
 choose the apple. 
 
 The heir of a great estate, while a child, thinks 
 more of a few shillings in his pocket than of his 
 inheritance. So a christian is often more elated 
 by some frame of heart than by his title to glory. 
 
 A dutiful child is ever looking forward to the 
 holidays, when he shall return to his father ; but 
 he does not think of running from school before. 
 
 The Gospel is a proclamation of free mercy 
 to guilty creatures — an act of grace to rebels. 
 Now, though a rebel should throw away his pis- 
 tols, and determine to go into the woods, and 
 make his mind better before he goes to court 
 and pleads the act ; he may, indeed, not be found 
 in arms, yet, being taken in his reforming 
 scheme, he will be hanged. 
 
 Man is made capable of three births: by nature, 
 he enters into the present world ; by grace, into 
 spiritual light and life ; by death, into glory. 
 
 In my imagination, I sometimes fancy I could 
 make a perfect minister. I take the eloquence of 
 
 , the knowledge of , the zeal of , 
 
 and the pastoral meekness, tenderness and >iety 
 
244 
 
 LIFE OF EEV. JOHN NEWTON. 
 
 of : then, putting them all together into one 
 
 man, I say to myself, fr This would be a perfect 
 minister." Now there is one, who, if he choose it, 
 could actually do this ; but he never did. He has 
 seen fit to do otherwise, and to divide these gifts 
 to every man severally as he will. 
 
 I feel like a man who has no money in his 
 pocket, but is allowed to draw for all he wants 
 upon one infinitely rich ; I am, therefore, at once 
 both a beggar and a rich man. 
 
 I went one day to Mrs. G 's just after she 
 
 had lost all her fortune ; I could not be sur- 
 prised to find her in tears, but she said, " I sup- 
 pose you think I am crying for my loss, but that 
 is not the case : I am now weeping to think I 
 should feel so much uneasiness on this account." 
 After that I never heard her speak again upon 
 the subject as long as she lived. 
 
 I have many books that I cannot sit down to 
 read : they are, indeed, good and sound ; but, 
 like halfpence, there goes a great quantity to a 
 little amount. There are silver books; and a 
 very few golden books : but I have one book 
 worth more than all, called the Bible ; and that 
 is a book of bank notes. 
 
 THE END. 
 
DATE DUE 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 GAYLORD #3523PI Printed in USA