FROM THE LIBRARY OF 
 
 REV. LOUIS FITZGERALD BENSON, D. D 
 
 BEQUEATHED BY HIM TO 
 
 THE LIBRARY OF 
 
 PRINCETON THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY 
 
 Division 
 
 Section / $4^3 J^ 
 
M E M O I R 
 
 OF THE PRINCIPAL 
 
 jjSffl of pmdfy. 
 
 V JAN 20 1933 f 
 
 
 - — 
 
 HYMN-WEITERS * COMPILERS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 17th, 18th, k 19th CENTURIES. 
 
 BY JOHN GADSBY. 
 
 FOURTH EDITION. 
 
 LOXDOX: 
 JOHN GADSBY, GEORGE YARD, BOUVERIE STREET. 
 
 1870. 
 
 Price 1$, stitched; Is. Ad. cloth flush ; Is. Od. cloth boards. 
 
LONDON : 
 ALFRED GADSBY, STEAM MACHINE PRINTER. 
 CRANE COURT, FLEET STREET. E.C. 
 
MEMOIRS 
 
 OF 
 
 HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 
 
 Adams (John) was born at Northampton, in the year 1751, of 
 poor industrious parents. His mother, who was a good woman, 
 was a member of the Baptist church under John Ryland, sen. 
 They had two sons. The elder died young; but the younger, 
 John, was put apprentice to an ironmonger in the same town. 
 His master was so satisfied with his conduct, that he left off 
 business in his favor. When 18 years of age, it pleased God to 
 enlighten his mind by his Spirit, and call him into the grace of 
 Christ. He then joined the church under Mr. Ryland, and 
 continued a consistent member after Mr. Ryland left, his son, 
 Dr. Ryland, succeeding!; him. When Mr. A. Fuller's work on the 
 Gospel came out, Dr. R. espoused his views, and Adams firmly 
 opposed him, and accused him of changing his principle-, when 
 Ryland said he had preached what he had not believed. Dr. Gill's 
 Commentary, which was in the table pew for the use of members, 
 Dr. R. had removed, observing that it was only lit for ministers. 
 Adams at that time, 1791, wrote some lines which he called "A 
 Lamentation." For this poem and for receiving Mr. Huntington 
 into his house, Dr. R. and his church excommunicated him ; and 
 Mr. H. wrote a book in his defence, entitled, "Excommunication." 
 The people not only east Adams out, but persecuted him in every 
 way, even injuring him in his business; and so far was Dr. It. 
 carried by his zeal, that he publicly wished his people not to have 
 any dealings with him. Adams often said he was fed by ravens, 
 and after many a meal would exclaim, "The Lord has given me 
 another good dinner. Kb thanks to John Ryland." After this 
 affair, he purchased two houses and converted them into a meet- 
 ing-house, which Mr. Huntington, going from London for the 
 purpose, opened. It was supplied, and I believe is to this day, 
 with preachers of a free-grace gospel. In the year 1811, Adams 
 left off business and removed to London, in order to hear Mr. 
 Huntington, and was received by him into communion. After 
 Mr. H.'sdeath, Adams went to Olney, in Buckinghamshire, and from 
 thence to Kewton Rlossomville, near Olney, where his son was 
 curate. He afterwards returned to Northampton, and remained 
 there until it pleased God to take him to himself, May loth, 1835. 
 He died full of joy, having no fear of death, and in full assur- 
 ance of being for ever with the Lord. He was in his 84th year, 
 and had been 6G years a follower of the Lord Jesus Christ. His 
 life was unblamcable. He outlived both Dr. Ryland and the 20 
 members who signed his excommunication. He never published 
 any book, but some of his hymns were inserted in the "Gospel 
 Magazine;" and his son, who is now vicar of ThorntoUj near Mar- 
 
4 J. GADSBY S MEMOIRS OF 
 
 ket Bosworth, has in his possession many of Adams's hymns and 
 poems which have never been published. In addition to those 
 which have been inserted in various selections, and to which 
 Adams's name has usually been attached, the one commencing, 
 "Jesus is our great salvation," 
 
 was written by him, though it has not until now been acknow- 
 ledged as his. 
 
 Aldiudge (William) was born at Warminster, in Wiltshire, in 
 1737. His youth appears to have been spent in pleasure and 
 worldly gratifications; and it was not until he was 24 that a divine 
 change was wrought in his soul. He then fell into great distress 
 of mind. His sins appeared in a most awful light, and it was a 
 considerable time before he experienced deliverance. His mind 
 being then directed to the ministry, he went to Lady Hunting- 
 don's College at Trevecca, in Wales, and afterwards labored for 
 several years in her connexion at Margate, Dover, Canterbury, 
 Deal, Maidstone, &c. In 1776, he left her, and went to Jewry 
 Street Chapel, London, where he was invited to become the stated 
 minister. Here he continued for 21 years, until his death, and 
 was greatly beloved by the people. He died Feb. 28th, 1797. 
 There is a copy of his hymns, Feb., 1776, in Cheshunt College 
 Library, and another in the British Museum Library ; the latter 
 of which I met with some time ago, and sent it to the Museum 
 for preservation. The hymn commencing, 
 
 "0 my Lord, I've often mused," 
 
 was originally published by Allen and Batty, in 1757, but altered 
 f)y Aldridge in 1776. 
 
 Allen (James) was born June 24th, 1734, at Gayle, near Hawes, 
 Wensley Dale, Yorkshire. His father, intending him for the 
 Establishment, placed him under the care of a clergyman; but the 
 inconsistent conduct of his tutor and the students appears so to 
 have shocked Allen that he said he would not go into the Church. 
 In 1749, he heard Mr. Ingham (for account of whom see farther 
 on) and others of that connexion, preach on the doctrines of jus- 
 tification without the deeds of the law, of imputed sin and im- 
 puted righteousness, &c. ; and under these discourses his mind 
 was relieved from a sense of guilt. In 1751, he was sent to John's 
 College, Cambridge, when he began to lose his zeal and joy. After 
 a time he visited his father, and resolved not to return to Cam- 
 bridge. In 1752 he joined the Inghamites, and was a popular 
 preacher among them for about nine years. He then built a cha- 
 pel for himself, in which he officiated to the end of his days. In 
 one of his letters he says, "My eyes were never fully opened till 
 the latter end of October, 1762. Plow am I now ashamed of my 
 preaching, and the hymn book I was concerned in printing. Almost 
 •every page puts me to the blush." He wrote many scriptural pieces, 
 and composed a few spiritual songs, which are still used occasion- 
 ally by the society at Gayle. He died Oct. 31st, 1804. (See 
 Batty, farther on.) 
 
 Bailey (John) was born at Slinfold, near Horsham, Sussex, 
 Aug. 20th, 1778. Having received a religious education, he says, 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 5 
 
 in his own account, he considered himself very good, especially 
 as he had never sworn an oath, was not given to tell lies, or follow 
 any evil ways. In short, he was much noticed for his exemplary 
 conduct. When he was taken from school and put to business, 
 he was exposed to temptations that he knew not how to with- 
 stand, and engaged in the pleasures and vanities of the world 
 He was, however, stopped in the midst of his imaginary pleasures 
 by a severe affliction. He begged of the Lord to pardon him, and 
 promised how circumspect he would be if he would restore him. 
 .But he soon forgot his vows, and mingled again with his former 
 companions. Yet in the midst of all he was unhappy. His soul 
 was filled with the greatest apprehensions of danger and a fearful 
 looking-for of judgment. To retire to rest was dreadful. Death 
 appeared as staring him in the face, and a sense of guilt sank him 
 into the blackness of despair. He feared sleep, lest he should 
 awake in hell; but when the morning came, his heart rejoiced, 
 and he forgot his troubles until the night returned. Thus he was 
 ever repenting and sinning. He could say with the poet, 
 
 u Here I repent and sin again ; 
 
 Now I"m reviled, and now am slain; 
 
 Slain with the same unhappy dart 
 
 Which too often wounds my heart." 
 
 It pleased God, however, again to lay his afflicting hand upon 
 him. He was desirous of exaltation in the world, but was crossed 
 and opposed in every direction; and the temptation which Job 
 had, " Curse God, and die," was ever haunting him. Under this 
 he was miserable and wretched, and found himself withal as 
 arrested by the hand of Divine justice, which constrained him to 
 say, "Have patience with me, and I will pay thee all." "But 
 justice," he says, "knew nothing of patience, and I found my 
 guilty soul arraigned at the bar of God's most holy law. I found 
 myself bound in the chains of my sin, my neck also yoked with 
 my transgressions. I tried to work myself out of the bondage I 
 experienced, and that distress and anguish of soul I labored 
 under. My former vows, promises, and resolutions which I had 
 made, came to my remembrance; and I found I had broken them 
 all. Yet so foolish was I and ignorant, that I determined to try 
 once more what could be done in my own strength. Again I 
 attempted the work, and again did I find my vows, promises, and 
 resolutions futile ; and this sank me the deeper into distress and 
 bondage. Nay, such was my distress, that I fell into all the horrors 
 of despair. I could truly say, with David, * The sorrows of death 
 compassed me about, and the pains of hell gat hold upon me; I 
 found trouble and heaviness.' But although my distress drove 
 me to the Lord in prayer, and caused me to cry for his help, yet, 
 instead of waiting for his delivering hand, to work /would go, 
 and double my diligence. I was like the 'captive exile, which 
 hasteneth that he may be loosed,' (Isa. li. 14,) but I made more 
 haste than good speed. Sometimes I thought I had a small re- 
 prieve from my fears, when I used to be very industrious, by 
 attending public worship four times on the Lord's Day; and I 
 used to resolve (my old work) to improve all I had heard on that 
 
6 J. GADSBYS MEMOIRS OF 
 
 day, and promised God what I would do if spared to the next 
 week. But alas, alas ! I often found before Monday had expired, 
 that sin and Satan were too much for my resolutions, vows, and 
 promises; and though I took great pains to cleanse myself, I 
 found what Job said to be true, ' Though I wash myself never so 
 clean, yet thou wilt plunge me in the ditch again, and my own 
 clothes will abhor me.' Yet I could not give it up. I heard 
 the preachers say, if we wanted to be happy we must be holy, and 
 it was this I wanted;" but, he says, he knew no more of gospel 
 holiness than a blind man did of colors. Thus he continued many 
 months, and envied the very brutes. "0 ye happ> creatures!" 
 said he, "ye have no soul to be saved or lost! do hereafter for 
 you! ye are not subject to eternal wrath, as I am! I have sinned, 
 and done evil, and expect eternal death ! But ye have not 
 sinned, and are happy. But wretched creature ! miserable me ! 
 born to see and experience much sorrow, affliction, and distress 
 here and hereafter ! awful words ! Hereafter the Judge will 
 say, 'Depart, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the 
 devil and his angels.' I would have given the world, were it in 
 my power, to have known the worst of my state. I often wished 
 my sufferings at an end ; and I knew and felt my rebellion against 
 God, and often wished myself lost outright. thou blessed 
 Jesus ! Thou knowest our frames, and rememberest we are but 
 dust. But such was my anger and wrath, that, if it had been 
 possible, I should have plucked God from his throne, or removed 
 myself out of his hands. The terrors of the Lord made me dis- 
 tracted, 'and the arrows of the Most High drank up my spirits.' 
 But, blessed be God, he has given me to see since, I was ' not ap- 
 pointed to wrath, but to obtain mercy.' My long spiritual bondage 
 often made me sigh for liberty, which I frequently heard much 
 spoken of by different persons, called ministers of the gospel; yet 
 I do not recollect any one of them ever did, in my hearing, describe 
 scripturaily and experimentally what it was they meant by the 
 liberty of the gospel ; nor did any of them come to my case and 
 distress of soul. This surprised me much. I found myself bound 
 with the chain of my sin, guiit, and corruption. I found, by daily 
 experience, every attempt to reform my life and leave off sinful 
 thoughts and inclinations fruitless; for, by the light and teachings 
 of the Spirit of God, I had greater and more clear discoveries of my 
 corrupt nature and desperately wicked heart. The efforts I had 
 been making to repair a broken law, and satisfy divine justice, 
 I found to be the offspring of a proud heart and deceiving enemy, 
 which bowed me down to the meditation of terror; and often would 
 I cry out with the Psalmist, ' While I suffer thy terrors, I am dis- 
 tracted;' and these terrors nearly brought me to the finishing of 
 my sufferings here, to introduce me into much greater hereafter. 
 For now the enemy suggested I had better put a period to my 
 existence. horrid temptation ! While I write, my blood seems 
 to chill in my veins, and my heart sickens at the remembrance of 
 my sorrows. I cannot describe the force of the temptation; four 
 separate and distinct attempts did I make upon my life. But those 
 words of John once came to me, when about to commit the direful 
 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 7 
 
 act, 'No murderer hath eternal life abiding in him.' This passage, 
 by the application of the Spirit of God, broke the snare of the 
 fowler, and the prey was delivered." He was also tempted to 
 believe he had sinned against the Holy Ghost, but was greatly 
 relieved by the consideration that that sin could only be committed 
 wilfully. " To constitute this sin, there must be light and sp ite 
 inseparably connected. As a good writer observes, 'Paul had 
 spite when he persecuted the church of Christ, but he had no 
 light; Peter had light, but he had no spite or malice in his heart 
 against the Lord; he was entirely overcome by fear through the 
 weakness of the flesh and the violence of temptation.' " "One 
 day I was reflecting on my dreadful state, and the multitude of 
 my sins and transgressions. Being alone, as I frequently was, I 
 heard a voice, saying, 'Son, be of good cheer; thy sins are for- 
 given thee.' Thinking some person had come into the room, 
 I looked round, but there was no one. I went into the passage to 
 see, but could perceive no person. I might have been certain there 
 was no one, but (being then, as I am now, rather deaf) supposed 
 some one might have come in, and I not heard them ; but it was 
 not so. I returned to my former spot, and, wondering what this 
 meant, I heard again, yet louder, 'Son, be of good cheer; thy sins, 
 which are many, are all forgiven 'thee.' Immediately my guilt, 
 distress, and bondage of soul left me ; the chain of my sins, where- 
 with I had been so long bound, was loosed ; my fetters were 
 knocked off; the prison doors were opened, and the poor prisoner 
 brought forth. The rebel experienced pardon, and was fully 
 justified in the court of God's law, as we-1 as that of conscience. 
 I could indeed say with the poet, 
 
 'Sweet was the hour I freedom felt, 
 
 To call my Jesus mine; 
 To see his smiling face, and melt 
 
 In pleasures all divine.' 
 
 O the love and delight I experienced in a precious Jesus! I 
 saw him by faith as crucified for me, as 'wounded for my trans- 
 gressions, as bruised for my sins.' I saw the chastisement of my 
 peace was upon him, and that by his stripes I was healed, I saw 
 that my sins had pierced and nailed him to the accursed tree ; 
 and this led me to a godly sorrow for sin. It was here I saw the 
 exceeding sinfulness of sin in crucifying the Lord of life and glory; 
 and I assure you I mourned for him, and was in bitterness as one 
 that ^ mourns for his first-born. Wherever I went, the love of a 
 crucified Jesus appeared uppermost in my mind, and seemed so 
 impressed on me that I could see the burden-bearing Saviour as 
 crucified for me; which sight, by faith, constantly appeared before 
 me. I have said, 'Dear Lord, it is too much for one so vile, for 
 one so sinful!' yet I was constrained to look again; and the text, 
 *Thy sins are forgiven thee,' was constantly following me. It was 
 often suggested by the enemy, ' You know you are such a great 
 sinner, such a rebel against God, how can you think it is for you?* 
 I was obliged to acknowledge it. But I found that when the 
 oneiny would come in like a fiood, the Spirit of the Lord did lift 
 up a standard against him ; and enable me to see that as far as 
 
8 J. gadsby's memoirs op 
 
 the east is from the west, so far had God removed my transgres- 
 sions from me. For many months I walked in the light of God r s 
 countenance, and rejoiced in Christ Jesus; and sometimes thought 
 I had no confidence in the flesh. In short, these were days of re- 
 joicing, for the word of the Lord was precious to me; the ordi- 
 nances of God's house were also much coveted. I could say with 
 David, ' I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God 
 than dwell in the tents of wickedness;' and I could add, 'How 
 amiable are thy tabernacles, Lord of Hosts ! my King and my 
 God!' I would not on any account now miss an opportunity for 
 worship o In the morning, afternoon, and evening I was there as 
 sdon as the doors were opened ; and then often a prayer meeting 
 at night would finish the day. As I had a love to the house of 
 God, so I much loved those who I thought were the saints of the 
 Most High God. Every one who carried a hymn book and Bible 
 I thought were these characters ; and having a very high opinion 
 of them, I used to talk freely to those who worshipped where I 
 did, about Jesus Christ, the preciousness of his death, the great- 
 ness of his love, and the blessings of his grace, which I then en- 
 joyed in a high degree. I esteemed them as fathers and mothers 
 in Israel; and of them I used to ask the way to Zion, with my 
 face thitherward. But I was much surprised at the answers I re- 
 ceived to simple questions, and at the checking admonitions 
 which they thought proper to give. Some of them would say, 
 ' Be not too forward, young man ; you should leave those things 
 for your elders. Remember, youth, there is such a thing as 
 being presumptuous. I would advise you, as a friend, to be care- 
 ful what you say.' But they might as well have attempted to 
 stop the course of the sun as to hinder me from speaking well of 
 my dear Jesus, wnu had saved me with an everlasting salvation. 
 What I spoke was simple, but sincere; and I found afterwards that 
 these were some of the little foxes noticed in the Song of Solo- 
 mon, which spoil the tender grapes. But none of their cunning 
 prevented me from de daring that as long as I lived I would bear 
 testimony to all around of the goodness of God to me. I could 
 say with David, ' Come, all ye that fear God, and I will tell you 
 what he hath done for my soul;' for the more I was forbidden, 
 or checked, I cried out so much the more, ' Bless his holy name, 
 who hath forgiven all my sins, and healed all my diseases ; who 
 redeemeth my life from destruction, who hath crowned me with 
 lovingkindness and tender mercies ; who hath satisfied my mouth 
 with good things, so that my youth is renewed like the eagle's.' 
 Jesus Christ and him crucified was all I wanted to know in earth 
 or heaven. My whole heart and soul were taken up in him as my 
 God and Saviour, my Brother, and everlasting Friend. The alter- 
 ation I felt in my mind was as great as that experienced by a per- 
 son quite ready to sink under a heavy burden, when it is imme- 
 diately taken from his shoulders. Thus the yoke was taken oif 
 my neck because of the anointing, and I found rest in the Lord 
 Jesus Christ, — yea, my reader, spiritual rest and peace of con- 
 science, ease of mind and tranquillity of soul, through an appV*^ 
 cation of pardoning love, a glorious view of justification by ine 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMriLEKS. 
 
 righteousness of Christ, full atonement for sin by his sacrifice, 
 and a hope of everlasting rest hereafter; which made me long to 
 he with him, to see his lovely face, to behold his glory without a 
 vail between. Those words of John wore much on my mind, 'It 
 doth not yet appear what we shall be; but we know that when he 
 shall appear, we shall be like him, for we shall sec him as he is.' 
 Ah! for this sight I longed; I saw r nothing here worth s oppirig 
 for; and I wished the time of my departure was at hand. I 
 thought, to be sure, I had fought a go^d fight, when in fact I was 
 but just entering the field to fight; and this my covenant God 
 and Father has convinced me of since. I remember well at this 
 time that no preaching suited me but that in which Jesus Christ 
 was the sum and substance. Such sermons were like ' apples of 
 gold in pictures of silver.' And however improper in doctrine and 
 the experience of the church of Christ, that signified not, as I was 
 then ignorant of doctrines; if Jesus was held up to the view on 
 the pole of the gospel, that was enough for me. I was once 
 much pleased at Tottenham Court Chapel, with an observation 
 which dropped from a country minister. He said, ' I would not 
 give a farthing for that sermon which did not begin, continue, 
 and end with Jesus Christ, the Saviour of poor sinners.' Well 
 said, said I, you shall be my minister, while you preach up the 
 all-lovely Jesus, who is to my soul 'the fairest among ten thou- 
 sand and the altogether lovely.' And as it is with most of God's 
 family at first setting out, so it was with me. I wished to do 
 something for the Lord Jesus, who had done so much for me. 
 * * # The world was under my feet, self in every form cruci- 
 fied, sin appeared to be dead and buried, and Satan, who fell like 
 lightning, gone for ever. But alas! my dear reader, I soon lost, 
 for a season, those divine and spiritual manifestations which I had 
 for some months enjoyed. This was to me a weaning time; and 
 like a weaned child I was before God. I expected^ as I had been 
 so highly favored with the light of God's countenance, I should 
 see no more dark and gloomy nights; but 0, my reader! I found 
 myself a child. I experienced the truth of Paul's words, 'When 
 I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought 
 as a child;' and I found that, upon reviewing my conversation, I 
 had spoken and understood as a child indeed, was fractious and 
 discontented, and had to contend with things I never expected. 
 I had hoped to have seen all my enemies dead on the sea-shore? 
 but instead of this, I found they were all strong and lively. The 
 Canaanite was still in the land, and God will have war with 
 Amalek for ever. When my former thoughts, evil corruptions, 
 and sinful propensities, came into my mind as intruding visitors, 
 I was distressed in spirit, and my poor soul was distracted; for 
 really I never expected to find hard thoughts of God any more, 
 who had done such great things for me; who had saved me, and 
 called me with a holy calling; who had set my feet upon a rock, 
 and established my goings. A recollection of these mercies, ac- 
 companied with a contemplation of my present situation, led me 
 to call all things into question. All my former experience of the 
 goodness, faithfulness, love, and tender mercies of God towards 
 
10 J. GADSBYS MEMOIRS OF 
 
 me, appeared delusive. Instead of comfort and joy in the Holy 
 Ghost, I had daily sorrow and sighing; instead of access to God 
 in prayer, I found no liberty of soul at a throne of grace, with 
 great shyness of coming there ; and I lived at a sensible distance 
 from the Lord. I could truly say, 'Thou hidest thy face, and I 
 am troubled.' I experienced my heart to be hard, my spirit was 
 impatient, and I was full of fears and unbelief. I found the 
 enemy to close upon me ; it was as his hour and the power of 
 darkness. 'Surely,' thought I, 'it cannot be right with me.' 
 He insinuated, 'No, you are not right; you are only a hypocrite; 
 you had better give it all up, and return again into the world, 
 and be comfortable. You see you have no part or lot in the 
 matter. Where are the joys of which you spake, and where the 
 blessedness you professed to have experienced? Your friend, as 
 you called him, is gone, never more to return.' But blessed be 
 God, I found Satan to be 'a liar from the beginning.' These 
 things used to distress me much. I greatly desired to be right; 
 and I used to wrestle hard with God in prayer, that he would root 
 out sin in me altogether. I was toiling many months at this 
 work, and nights of darkness and days of distress have I expe- 
 rienced; for even while I was praying, I found sin working in my 
 members. I felt what the apostle described, 'The good that I 
 would, I do not; and the evil that I would not, that do I.' Sen- 
 sible of proneness to wander, and conscious of very many back- 
 slidings, in a most particular way were these words applied with 
 power to my soul : ' Come, let us return unto the Lord, for he 
 hath torn, and he will heal; he hath smitten, and he will bind us 
 up.' 'who is a God like unto our God, pardoning iniquity, 
 transgression, and sin V After some time he was strongly im- 
 pressed with a desire for the work of the ministry. He had a friend 
 who used to go to a workhouse to preach, and Bailey would some- 
 times go with him, and give out the hymns. One day his friend 
 was taken ill, and he desired Bailey to go for him, and read a 
 chapter, &c. But he says, "It was such a burden to me, that 
 it bowed me down before the Lord; and it was as fire in my 
 soul shut up. Such were its effects on my mind, that I was 
 indisposed. The hour was fast approaching, when I was to stand 
 up between the living God and poor sinners; and at the appointed 
 time I went, but was as a fool going to the correction of the 
 stocks, and entirely unprepared, as some have termed it, to 
 speak. I went to the workhouse, and told the people how I was 
 situated, that their minister was ill, but I would read and pray 
 with them." — He was invited to go again and again, and says, "I 
 labored in the workhouse as a servant of the Lord for some months, 
 and have the happiness to say I did not labor in vain. This circum- 
 stance came to the ears of my religious friends, and they had, un- 
 known to me, prepared the way for my going further into the work, 
 and many doors were opened in providence for me to speak, which 
 w T ere unsought and unexpected." He also often preached in the 
 fields with Lady Huntingdon's ministers, and had large congrega- 
 tions. He subsequently, however, left her connexion, and was 
 then greatly tried in providence, often being ready to drop while 
 

 
 
 HYMN-W1UTEU3 AND COMPILERS. 11 
 
 walking, from want of food; but many sweet promises were applied, 
 which made him like a giant refreshed with new wine. "I re- 
 member once in particular walking to Epsom, to preach, with a 
 very heavy heart, on account of domestic necessity and distress. 
 My dear partner was confined, and it was not in my power to 
 provide comfortable things for her or our offspring, being then 
 only a poor schoolmaster. As I travelled on my journey, a spirit 
 of grace and supplication was given me, and I wrestled hard 
 with God in mighty prayer, that he would be pleased to open 
 in providence a door for my deliverance, for we were miserably 
 off; the times were very bad. It was in the depth of winter, bread 
 eighteenpence per loaf, coals two shillings and sixpence per bushel, 
 a wife lying-in, and all to be supported out of ten shillings and six- 
 pence per week. In addition to this, I was behind with my landlord. 
 He was a flaming professor, but, like many other wicked men, his 
 6 tender mercies were cruel;' for, notwithstanding he knew my 
 distressed situation, yet he promised if I did not pay my rent on 
 the Monday following, the quarter-day, he would seize my goods. 
 Not being able to return from Epsom on Sunday night, I had a 
 comfortable night's rest, and I awoke in a sweet serenity of mind, 
 was happy in private prayer, and I poured out my soul into the 
 bosom of my God and Father, making known all my wants and 
 necessities. A person came in while I was at breakfast, and pre- 
 sented me with a parcel, begging my acceptance of it. Shortly 
 after this person was gone, a second came in and desired to speak 
 with me, and, after our conversation, begged I would not be of- 
 fended, as they had brought a little money, and thought it might 
 be serviceable. A third came with two bottles of wine. Thus I 
 was assisted with those things I really wanted, and returned home 
 with a thankful heart, and richly laden. I just arrived in time to 
 save the small inventory, a bed and stool, skillet, and old carved 
 chest, from public sale ;' and after the landlord was paid, had a 
 sufficiency to support us all that week." Other circumstances of 
 a similar nature are recorded by him, but they cannot be inserted 
 here. In 1801 his wife's uncle died, and left them some property, 
 about £50 a year, but he gave his wife's mother <£'20 a year out 
 of it. lie was originally a member of the Church of England, but, 
 having on one occasion sprinkled a child, he suffered so acutely 
 on account thereof, that he was compelled to become a Baptist. 
 In 1803, he accepted the call of a church at Brockham, in Surrey, 
 as their pastor, and some months afterwards removed with his 
 family to Dorking, about two miles from Brockham, where he 
 commenced as a druggist, as he only received £30 a year as a 
 minister, which would not support his family; but in fifteen 
 months he became insolvent. In 1807 he left the Brockham 
 people. He then removed to London, and endeavored to establish 
 himself in some way of business, but all his exertions failed; until 
 he exclaimed, "The Lord has dealt bitterly with me." Passing 
 down Church Lane, Goodman's Fields, he saw a large chapel to 
 be let. He named it to several of his friends, and in December, 
 1807, it was taken and opened by him. This was the present 
 Zoar Chapel, in Great Alio Street, as it is now called. For about 
 
12 j. gadsby's memoirs of 
 
 half a year, so few people attended, that he feared it must be 
 given up ; but the numbers began then to increase, and in July, 
 1808, h church was formed. Here Bailey continued until 1824. 
 He was then laid by through illness for five years, removing to 
 various places subsequently for the benefit of his health. His last 
 sermon was preached at Wandsworth, Oct. 10th, 1830, and he 
 died during his sleep on the following Thursday, Oct, 14th, 1830. 
 A full account of Bailey's life was published by Mr. J. A. Jones, 
 under the title of '"'The Poor Pilgrim," which is well worth a 
 perusal; but it is, I believe, now out of print. I have, however, 
 extracted the main features. The hymn commencing, 
 "Jesus, Ave come to meet," 
 
 is in Bailey's Selection; and as in his preface he says, "Some of 
 the hymns are original, " it has been thought that this was his; 
 but as the hymn was published about the same time by S. Bar- 
 nard, of Hull, I cannot say which was the author, though I in- 
 cline to believe it was Barnard. 
 
 Bakewell (John) was born in 1721, and died March 18th, 1819. 
 He was one of the first local preachers among the Methodists, 
 having commenced in 1749. He is said to have composed many 
 hymns. The one commencing — 
 
 " Hail! thou once-despised Jesus!" 
 or, as in some books, 
 
 " Paschal Lamb, by God appointed," 
 
 is believed by some to have been written by him ; but I am more 
 inclined to believe it to have been Madan's. as I find it in his 
 book, 1760. 
 
 Barnard (S.) was originally minister at Ebenezer Chapel, Dag« 
 ger Lane, Hull, and afterwards at Howard Street, Sheffield. This 
 was about the year 1810. I think the hymn, 
 "Jesus, we come to meet;" 
 
 was written by him ; but am not sure whether it was by him or 
 Bailey. 
 
 Batty (Christopher) was born at Newby Cote, near Settle, in 
 Yorkshire, in 1715, and died at Kendal, April 19th, 1797, aged 82. 
 In 1771, Mr. B. went on a visit to a friend named Green, at York. 
 Mr. Green told him that as he (Mr. Batty) had been instrumental 
 in the conversion of his daughter, who had died the preceding 
 year, he meant to leave him all his property; but Mr. B. positively 
 refused to have it; upon which Mr. G. left it to Mr. Ingham. In 
 1757, a hymn-book was printed at Kendal, entitled, "A Collection 
 of Hymns for the Use of those that seek and those that have Re- 
 demption." There was no name in the title-page, but the preface 
 was signed J. A., C. B., &c. ; that is, James Allen and Christopher 
 Batty. There were three brothers of the Battys, all ministers 
 among the Inghamites. About the year 1748, Mr. W. Batty and 
 his friends, whilst speaking in various places in Lancashire and 
 Yorkshire, met with much persecution. At Gisburn they were 
 interrupted in their religious meeting by the curate of the parish, 
 heading a large mob and entering the place where they were 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 13 
 
 assembled for worship. At Colne they were treated still worse. 
 At Clitheroe their reception was very uncourteous. At Lancaster 
 the affair became so serious, that they had to apply for protection 
 to the civil power. Two families in Kirkby Lonsdale espoused 
 the cause of Mr, Ingham and received his preachers. These dis- 
 senters, anxious to convey their views of the gospel to the people, 
 obtained from the Bishop of Chester a license for a private house 
 in Mitchelgate, (the Court of Sessions at Kendal having refused 
 the application,) and one of Mr. Ingham's principal ministers (said 
 to be Mr. James Allen) preached in it. An alarm was spread. 
 The town was in a commotion, and the mob made the preacher a 
 prisoner. It happened providentially for him that James Ashton, 
 Esq., of Underley Hall, was in Kirkby Lonsdale, and heard of the 
 uproar, lie rushed through the crowd, and, seizing the dissent- 
 ing minister by the hand, expressed great pleasure in seeing him, 
 and reminded him of the pleasant days they had spent together 
 at college; then, taking him by the arm, led him to the vicarage. 
 "Did not the biped lions look very silly when they had missed their 
 prey? Did they not slink away like dogs detected in thievery? 
 They supposed they had got hold of a dangerous fellow; but to 
 their surprise, no doubt, found he was a learned friend of their 
 worthy Squire Ashton." The vicar (Croft) had a good deal of con- 
 versation with the stranger, and said he was very sorry a gentleman 
 of his talents and education should think it his duty to leave the 
 Establishment to become an itinerant preacher. The editor of the 
 "Life and Times of Lady Huntingdon" says that the hymns, 
 
 ' ; My God, my Creator, the heavens did bow;" 
 
 " my Lord, I've olten mused;" 
 
 "I do more at Mary wonder;" 
 
 ' ; Sweet the moments, rich in blessing;" 
 
 a? also some others which first appeared in the book named above, 
 were by the Battys; but I am more inclined to think they were 
 Allen's, as William and Christopher Batty published a volume of 
 their own in 1770, in which only one of those hymns appears. 
 Still Christopher Batty may have written some of them, as his 
 initials arc affixed to the preface along with Allen's. (See Allen.) 
 Beddome (Benjamin) was born at Henley, Jan. 23rd, (old style,) 
 1717. When about seven years old, his parents removed to Bristol. 
 Having received a suitable education, he was apprenticed to a 
 surgeon and apothecary. The earliest account of any serious im- 
 pression being made on his mind appears to be an obscure passage 
 found in his handwriting: "Mr. Ware, of Chesham, preached at 
 thePithay, Bristol, Aug. 7th, 1737, with which sermon I was, for 
 the first time, deeply impressed." At his first awakening, he used 
 to be greatly affected under the word. Though the affectionate 
 ministry of his father, John Beddome, had not gained his atten- 
 tion before, yet he now felt it in a most impressive manner. That 
 he might conceal his abundant tears, he would sit behind in the 
 gallery, where he was not likely to be seen. At the close of his 
 apprenticeship, he became a student at Bristol, and afterwards 
 removed to London. He was baptized by Mr. Wilson in 1739, 
 
14 j. gadsby's memoirs of 
 
 and joined his church at Goodman's Fields. After the death of 
 Mr. Flower, of Bourton-on-the-Water, Gloucestershire, Beddome 
 was invited to supply the destitute church. He went to them in 
 July, 1740, and having received many calls to become their settled 
 pastor, he accepted the office, and was ordained in September, 
 1743. In 1749 he had a severe illness, and on his recovery wrote 
 a hymn, which he subsequently replaced by one commencing, 
 
 "If I must die, let me die 
 Trusting in Jesus' blood! 
 
 That blood which hath atonement made, 
 And reconciles to God." 
 
 He had not long been restored to his people ere a new trial awaited 
 them. Mr. Wilson finished his course. His bereaved church at 
 once fixed their eyes on Mr. Beddome, who had formerly been in 
 communion with them, that is, in Goodman's Fields; and so deter- 
 mined were they, if possible, to prevail upon him to remove, that 
 call after call, entreaty after entreaty, and argument after argu- 
 ment, were used, but all in vain. His final answer was, "I would 
 rather honor God in a station even much inferior to that in whicn 
 he has placed me, than intrude myself into a higher without his 
 direction." In 1770, the Fellows of Providence College, Rhode 
 Island, conferred on him the degree of Master of Arts, as a token 
 of respect for his abilities. * * * My account is taken from 
 Rippon's " Baptist Register," and I am sorry to say that it is so 
 almost entirely made up of his abilities, his benevolence, &c, that 
 it is not worth extracting farther. In the near prospect of death, 
 he was calm and resigned. It had been his earnest wish not to be 
 long laid aside from his beloved work of preaching the gospel, and 
 his prayer was remarkably answered, as he was laid by only one 
 Lord's Day ; indeed, he was composing a hymn about six hours 
 before he died. He died Sept. 3rd, 1795. 
 
 Bennett. — I have no account of this author. The hymns 
 written by him are in Dobell's Selection, and probably written 
 expressly for it. The hymn, 
 
 " Convinced as a sinner, to Jesus I come." 
 is one of them. 
 
 Berridge (John) was born at Kingston, in Nottinghamshire, 
 March 1st, 1716. His father was a wealthy farmer at Kingston, 
 and intended to bring John up to agriculture, and for that pur- 
 pose took him to markets and fairs, that he might become ac- 
 quainted with the price of cattle and other things connected with 
 farming ; but, whenever his father asked him what he conceived 
 was the value of such and such a thing, he was invariably so far 
 out in his judgment that his father despaired of his ever being a 
 competent agriculturist, and so ceased from endeavoring to in- 
 struct him in that line. The truth is, God had designed him to 
 occupy a more exalted station. The circumstance to which he 
 ascrioed his first serious impressions was singular. Once, as he 
 was returning from school, a neighboring youth invited him into 
 his house, and asked if he should read a chapter to him cut of 
 the Bible. He consented. This being repeated several times, 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 15 
 
 he began to feel a secret aversion to it, and would gladly have 
 declined accepting these friendly invitations. But having obtained 
 the reputation of being a pious child, he was afraid to risk it by a 
 refusal. On his return from a fair, where he had been to enjoy 
 a holiday, he hesitated to pass the door of his young neighbor, 
 lest he should be accosted as before. The youth, however, was 
 waiting for him; and when he approached, renewed his invitation, 
 and, in addition to his former request, asked if they should pray 
 together. In this exercise it was that he began to perceive he was 
 not right, or the amusements of a fair would not have been pre- 
 ferred to the pleasures of devotion. And such was the effect of this 
 interview, that not a great while after, he himself adopted a similar 
 practice with his school companions. At the age of 14, God was 
 pleased to convince him that he was a sinner, and must be born 
 again. About this time he left school, and returned to his father, 
 with an intention to apply himself to business. A tailor who was 
 occasionally employed in the family, being a man of strict sobriety, 
 and struck with the uncommon appearances of religion in one so 
 young, conversed with him on serious subjects, whenever he came 
 to the house on business. As opportunities of this nature seldom 
 occurred, John's love for religion induced him to cultivate a more 
 intimate acquaintance with this man, by going frequently to his 
 house for the purpose of serious conversation. His relations at 
 length suspected he had too much religion, and fearing to what it 
 would grow, discovered some inclination to discourage it. They 
 insinuated that, since his attachment was so strong to his new 
 companion, he should be bound to him in articles of apprentice- 
 ship. This threat had not the designed effect ; for so prevalent 
 was his bias to reading, prayer, and serious discourse, that he 
 frequently repeated his visits. Finding this their scheme unsuc- 
 cessful, and conceiving that his predilection for reading and reli • 
 gion would entirely unfit him for business, they resolved, though 
 reluctantly, to send him to the university. In this determination, 
 which was perfectly congenial with his own inclinations, he most 
 readily concurred; and, after previous preparation, entered Clare 
 Hall, Oct. 28th, 1734, in the 19th year of his age. A neighbor 
 soon after meeting his father, and inquiring for his son, he jocosely 
 replied, "He is gone to be a light to lighten the Gentiles." This 
 testimony was true. Being now in his element, he pursued his 
 studies with uncommon avidity, and made such progress in every 
 branch of literature as rendered him in no respect inferior to any 
 of his contemporaries. Favored with a good understanding, im- 
 proved by literature, and possessing a natural vein of humor, 
 which was extremely fascinating, he rose in respect; and his 
 acquaintance was courted at the university by ecclesiastics of 
 superior rank, though of wider principles and less rigid morals. 
 "So insatiable was his thirst for knowledge, that from his en- 
 trance at Clare Hall to his acceptance of the vicarage of Everton, 
 he regularly studied 15 hours a day. A clergyman, with whom 
 he had been in habits of friendship about 50 years, said of him, 
 that he was as familiar with the learned languages as he was with 
 his mother tongue, and that he could be under no temptation to 
 
16 j. gadsby's memoirs of 
 
 court respect by itinerant preaching, for he merited and enjoyed 
 that in a high degree among all ranks of literary professions at the 
 University*" Being of a witty turn of mind, he read with 
 avidity various works of wit, which, together with his natural 
 humor, made him such excellent company at the college that 
 whenever it was known he was to be present at any public din- 
 ner, the table was sure to be crowded. Socinian principles were 
 then widely prevalent, and as evil communications corrupt good 
 manners, he caught the contagion, and drank into the Socinian 
 scheme to such a degree as to lose all serious impressions, and 
 discontinue private prayer for the space of ten years, a few in- 
 tervals excepted. In these intervals he would weep bitterly, 
 reflecting on the sad state of his mind, compared with what it 
 was when he came to the university, and would frequently say 
 to a fellow-student, who became an eminent minister in the Es- 
 tablishment, "0 that it were with me as in years past!" Con- 
 science, however, at length resuming her authority, he was com- 
 pelled to relinquish sentiments so derogatory to God, and so 
 subversive of every good principle and practice. He now disco- 
 vered that they not only lessened God the Son in his esteem, but 
 God the Father also;, and tended to promote no higher a mo- 
 rality than what comported with all the maxims and pleasures of 
 the present world. With the renunciation of his former errors, 
 he returned to the regular excercise of devotional religion, although 
 it was but a small remove, if any, from pharisaical. Soon after this, 
 he began to feel strong inclinations to exercise his ministry ; and 
 accordingly, in the year 17-19, accepted the curacy of Stapleford, 
 near Cambridge, which he regularly served six years from college. 
 His parishioners were extremely ignorant and dissolute, and he 
 was much concerned to do them good. He took extraordinary 
 pains, and pressed very earnestly upon them the necessity of sanc- 
 tification ; but had the mortification to find that they continued 
 as unsanctified as before. But let the good man speak for him- 
 self. I extract the following from " The Works of Mr. Berridge, 
 by Mr. Whittingham, Vicar of Potton:" 
 
 "When I was about the age of 14, God was pleased to show me that 
 I was a sinner, and that I must be born again before I could enter 
 into his kingdom. Accordingly, I betook myself to reading, praying, 
 end watching, and was enabled hereby to make some progress in sanc- 
 iification. In this manner I went on, though not always with the same 
 diligence, till about a year ago. I thought myself in the right way to 
 heaven, though as yet I was wholly out of the way; and imagining I 
 was travelling towards Zion, though I had never yet set my face 
 thitherwards. Indeed, God would have shown me that I was wrong, 
 by not owning my ministry ; but I paid no regard to this for along 
 time, imputing my want of success to the naughty hearts of my hear- 
 ers, and not to my own naughty doctrine. You may ask, perhaps, what 
 was my doctrine? Why, dear Sir, it was the doctrine that every man 
 will naturally hold whilst he continues in an unregenerate state, viz , 
 that we are to be justified partly by our faith and partly by our works. 
 This doctrine I preached for six years, at a curacy, which I served from 
 college; and though I took some extraordinary pains, and pressed 
 sanctincation upon them very earnestly, yet they continued as unsanc- 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 17, 
 
 tified as before, and not one soul was brought to Christ. There was, 
 indeed, a little more of the form of religion in the parish, but not a 
 whit more of the power. At length I removed to Everton, where I 
 have lived altogether. Here again I pressed sanctification and regene- 
 ration as vigorously as I could ; but finding no success, after two years' 
 preaching in this manner, I began to be discouraged, and now some 
 secret misgiving arose in my mind, that I was not right myself. (This 
 happened about Christmas last.) Those misgivings grew stronger, 
 and at last very painful. Being then under great doubts, I cried unto 
 the Lord very earnestly, 'Lord, if I am right, keep me so; if I am 
 not right, make me so. Lead me to the knowledge of the truth as it is 
 in Jesus.' After about ten days' crying unto the Lord, he was pleased 
 to return an answer to my prayers, and in the following wonderful 
 manner. As I was sitting in my house one morning, and musing upon 
 a text of Scripture, the following words were darted into my mind with 
 wonderful power, and seemed indeed like a voice from heaven, viz., 
 'Cease from thine own works.' Before 1 heard these words, my mind 
 was in a very unusual calm; but as soon as I heard them, my soul 
 was in a tempest directly, and tears flowed from my eyes like a torrent. 
 The scales fell from my eyes immediately, and I now clearly saw the 
 rock I had been splitting on for near 30 years. Do you ask what this 
 rock was? Why, it was some secret reliance on my own works for sal- 
 vation. I. had hoped to be saved partly in my own name, and partly in 
 Christ's name; though I am told there is salvation in no other name, 
 except in the name of Jesus Christ. (Acts iv. 12.) I had hoped to be 
 saved partly through my own works, and partly through Christ's mer- 
 cies; though I am told we are saved by grace through faith, and not of 
 works. (Eph. ii. 7,8.) I had hoped to make myself acceptable to God 
 partly through my own good works, though we are told that we are ac- 
 cepted through the Beloved. (Epjh. i. 0.) I had hoped to make my 
 peace with God partly through my own obedience to the law, though I 
 am told that peace is only to be had by faith. (Rom. v. I.) I had 
 hoped to make myself a child of God by sanctification, though we are 
 told that we are made children of God by faith in Christ Jesus. (Gal. 
 iii. 2G.) I had thought that regeneration, the new birth, or new crea- 
 ture, consisted in sanctification, but now I know it consists in faith. 
 (1 John v. 1.) Compare also these two passages together, Gal. vi. 15, 
 and Gal. v. 0, where you will find that the new creature is, faith work- 
 ing by love. The apostle adds these words, working bij love, in order to 
 distinguish a living faith from a dead one. "When we are justified, it 
 is done freely, that is, graciously, without any the least merit of ours, 
 and solely by the grace of God through Jesus Christ. (Rom. iii. 24-28.) 
 All that is previously needful to justification is this, that we are con- 
 vinced, by the Spirit of God, of our own utter sinfulness; (Isa.lxiv. 6;) 
 convinced that we are the children of wrath by nature, on account of 
 our birth-sin; (Eph. ii. 3;) and that we are under the curse of God, 
 on account of actual sin, (Gal. iii. 10,) and under these convictions 
 come to the Lord Jesus Christ, renouncing all righteousness of our 
 own, and relying solely on him, who is appointed to be the Lord our 
 righteousness. (Jer. xxiii. 6.) Again, Christ says, 'Come unto me, all 
 ye that labor, and are heavy laden, (with the burden of sin,) and I will 
 give you rest;' that is, I will take the burden away; I will release 
 you from the guilt of sin. Where you may observe, that the only 
 thing required of us when we come to Christ, is to come bur- 
 dened and sensible that none can remove this burden but Christ. 
 Again, Christ did not come to call the righteous, but sinners, to 
 
 B 
 
18 J. gadsby's memoirs op 
 
 repentance. See also Luke v. 32. Hear how he cries out in 
 Isa. lv. 1 : c Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the -waters 
 and drink; come, buy wine and milk, (that is, the blessings of 
 the gospel,) without money and without price.' Where we are 
 ordered to bring no money, that is, no merits of our own, we must not 
 think to make a purchase of these blessings by any deserts of ours. 
 They are given freely, that is, graciously, and must be received freely. 
 Nothing more is required from us, but to thirst after them. Why was the 
 pharisee rejected? (Luke xviii. 10, &c.) Because be came pleading his 
 own works before God. He was devout, just, chaste, and abstemious ; 
 and thanked God for enabling him to be so. Very well; so far all was 
 light. But then he had some reliance on these works, and therefore 
 pleads the merits of them before God, which showed that he did not 
 know what a sinner he was, and that he could only be saved by grace, 
 through faith. He opens his mouth before God, and pleads his own 
 cause, though God declares that every mouth shall be stopped before 
 him, and the whole world brought in guilty before God. (Rom. iii. 19.) 
 And why was the publican justified? Not on account of his own works, 
 but because he was sensible of his evil ones ; and accordingly came 
 self-accused, self condemned, and crying out only for mercy. And now, 
 dear Sir, hear what is the rise and progress of true religion in the soul 
 of man. When the Spirit of God has convinced any person that he is 
 a child of wrath, and under the curse of God, (in which state every one 
 continues to be till he has received Jesus Christ into his heart by faith,) 
 then the heart of such a one becomes broken for sin ; then, too, he feels 
 what he never knew before, that he has no faith, and accordingly laments 
 his evil heart of unbelief. In this state men continue, some a longer, 
 some a less time, till God is pleased to work faith in them. * * * 
 And now let me point out to you the grand delusion which had liked to 
 have ruined my soul. I saw very early something of the unholiness of my 
 nature, rnd the necessity of being born again. Accordingly I watched, 
 prayed, and fasted too, thinking to purify my heart by these means ; 
 whereas it can only be purified by faith. (Acts xv. 9.) Watching, pray- 
 ing, and fasting are necessary duties, but I, like many others, placed 
 some secret reliances on them, thinking they were to do that for me, in 
 part at least, which Christ only could. The truth is, though I saw my- 
 self to be a sinner, and a great sinner, yet I did not see myself an utter 
 lost sinner, and therefore I could not come to Jesus Christ alone to 
 save me. I despised the doctrine of justification by faith alone, looking 
 on it as a foolish and dangerous doctrine. I was not yet stript of all 
 my righteousness, could not consider it as filthy rags, and therefore I 
 went about to establish a righteousness of my own, and did not submit 
 to the righteousness of God by faith. (Rom. x. iii.) I did not seek after 
 righteousness through faith, but as it were by the works of the law. 
 Thus I stumbled and fell. (Rom. ix. 31, 32.) In short, to use a homely 
 similitude, I put the justice of God into one scale, and as many good 
 works of my own as I could into the other ; and when I found, 
 as I always did, my own good works not to be a balance to the 
 divine justice, I then threw in Christ as a makeweight. And this 
 every one really does, who hopes for salvation partly by doing what 
 he can for himself, and relying on Christ for the rest. But, dear Sir, 
 Christ will either be a whole Saviour or none at all. And if you think 
 you have any good service of your own to recommend you unto God, 
 you are certainly without any interest in Christ. Be you ever so sober, 
 serious, just, and devout, you are still under the curse of God, as I was, 
 and knew it not, provided you have any allowed reliance on your own 
 works, and think they are to do something for you, and Christ to do 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 19 
 
 the rest. I now proceed to acquaint you 'with the success I have 
 lately had in my ministry. As soon as God had opened my own eye* 
 and showed me the true way to salvation, I began immediately to- 
 preach it. And now I dealt with my hearers in a very different man- 
 ner from what I had used to do. I iold them very plainly, that they 
 were children of wrath, and under the curse of God, though they knew 
 it not; and that none but Jesus Christ could deliver them from that 
 curse. I asked them, if they had ever broken the law of God once, 
 in thought, word, or deed? If they had, they were then under tha 
 curse ; for it is written, ■ Cursed is every one that continueth not in all 
 the things that are written in the book of the law to do them.' And 
 again : ■ He that keepeth the whole law, and yet offendeth in one point, 
 is guilty of all.' If, indeed, we could keep the whole law, without 
 offending in one point; if we had done, and continue to do, all the 
 things in God's law, then, indeed, we might lay claim to eternal life 
 on the score of our own works. But who is sufficient for these things? 
 If we break God's law, we immediately fall under the curse of it; and 
 none can deliver us from this curse but Jesus Christ. There is an end, 
 for ever after, of any justification from our own works. No future good 
 behaviour can make any atonement for past miscarriages. If I keep 
 all God's laws to-day, this is no amends for breaking them yesterday. 
 If I behave peaceably to my neighbour this day, it is no satisfaction 
 for having broken his head yesterday. If, therefore, I am once under 
 the curse of God, for having broken God's law, I can never after dc* 
 anything of myself, to deliver me from this curse. I may then cry out,.. 
 
 wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from this body of. 
 sin? And find none able to deliver, but Jesus Christ. (Rom.vii. 23 — 25.) 
 So that if I am once a sinner, nothing but the blood of Jesus Christ 
 can cleanse me from sin. All my hopes are then in him; and I must, 
 fly to him as the only refuge set before me. In this manner, dear Sir,. 
 
 1 preached, and do preach, to my flock, laboring to beat down self- 
 righteousness; laboring to show them that they were all in a lost and 
 perishing state, and that nothing could recover them out of this state, 
 and make them children of God, but faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. 
 And now see the consequence. This was strange doctrine to my hearers. 
 They were surprised, alarmed, and vexed. The old man, the carnal 
 nature, was stirred up, and railed, and opposed the truth. However, 
 the minds of most were seized with some convictions, and the hearts 
 of some were truly broken for sin, so that they came to me as those 
 mentioned in the Acts, thoroughly pricked in the heart, and crying out 
 with str.mg and bitter cries, 'Vv'hatmust we do to be saved?' I then 
 laid the promises before them, and told them if they found themselves 
 under the curse, Christ was ready to deliver them from it; if they were; 
 really weary and heavy laden, Christ would give them rest; if their 
 hearts were broken for sin, and they looked unto Christ, he would 
 heal them. I exhorted them also to thank God for these convictions,, 
 assuring them it was a token of good to their souls. For God must, 
 first smite the heart, before he can heal it. (Isa. xix. 22.) I generally- 
 found that they received comfort from the promises ; and though they 
 complained much of the burden of sin, and of an evil heart of unbelief, 
 yet they always went away refreshed and comforted. Many have come 
 to me in this manner, and more are continually coming; and though 
 some fall off from their first convictions, yet others cleave stedfastly 
 unto the Lord. They begin to rejoice in him, and to love him ; they 
 love his word, and meditate much upon it; they exercise themselves in 
 prayer, and adorn their profession by a suitable life and conversation. 
 
20 J. gadsby's memoirs op 
 
 And now let me make one reflection. I preached up sanctification [by 
 the works of the law he means] very earnestly for six years in a former 
 parish, and never brought one soul to Christ. I did the same at this 
 parish for two years, without any success at all; but as soon as ever I 
 preached Jesus Christ, and faith in his blood, then believers were added 
 to the church continually; then people flocked from all parts to hear 
 the glorious sound of the gospel, some coming six miles, others eight, 
 and others ten, and that constantly. Let me now apply myself to your 
 own heart, and may God dispose you to receive my words in the spirit 
 of meekness. Indeed, Sir, I love and respect you, else I could not 
 have written to you so freely. Are you then in the same error that I 
 was in for near forty years, viz., that you must be saved partly by faith 
 and partly by works? And have you constantly preached this doctrine? 
 Then you may be certainly assured of these two things : first, That you 
 never yet brought one soul to Christ by your ministry. And, secondly, 
 That you are not yet in the way of salvation yourself. Oh! be not dis- 
 pleased with me for telling you the truth. But you will say, perhaps, 
 that you have not only been sincere, but ever zealous in preaching the 
 word of God. So was I; but there is a zeal which is not according tc 
 knowledge; and that zeal I had, though I knew it not. You may- 
 say farther, that you have read and prayed much. So have I; but still 
 I knew nothing, as I ought to know, until God was pleased to show me 
 that I was blind, and then I cried heartily to him for light and direction, 
 and he opened my eyes. (John ix. 39.) I now proceed to give you some 
 further account of myself, and of the impediments which kept me from 
 the truth. When I first came to the University, I applied myself dili- 
 gently to my studies, thinking human learning to be a necessary quali- 
 fication for a divine, and that no one ought to preach unless he had 
 taken a degree in the University. Accordingly I studied the classics, 
 mathematics, philosophy, logic, and metaphysics, and read the works of 
 our most eminent divines; and this I did for twenty years; and all 
 the while was departing more and more from the truth as it is 
 in Jesus; vainly hoping to receive that light and instruction from 
 human wisdom, which could only be had from the word of God 
 and prayer. During this time I was thought a Methodist by some 
 people, only because I was a little more grave, and took a little 
 more pains in my ministry than some others of my brethren; but, in 
 truth, I was no Methodist at all, for I had no sort of acquaintance with 
 them, and could not abide their fundamental doctrines of justification 
 by faith, and thought it high presumption in any to preach, unless they 
 had taken holy orders. But when God was pleased to open my eyes, 
 about half a year ago, he showed and taught me other things. Now I 
 saw that nothing had kept me so much from the truth as a desire of 
 human wisdom. Now I perceived that it was as difficult for a wise or 
 learned man to be saved as it was for a rich man or a nobleman. (1 Cor. 
 i.26.) Now I saw that God chose the foolish things of this world, to 
 confound the wise, for two plain reasons ; first, That no flesh should 
 glory in his presence; (1 Cor. i. 29;) and, secondly, That faith did not 
 stand, or was not produced, by the wisdom of man, but in the power of 
 God. (1 Cor. ii. 5.) Now I discerned that no one could understand the 
 word of God, but by the Spirit of God. (1 Cor. ii. 12. ) Now I saw that 
 every believer was anointed by the Holy Spirit, and thereby led to the 
 knowledge of all needful truths; (1 John ii. 20;) and, of course, that 
 every true believer was qualified to preach the gospel, provided he had 
 the gift of utterance. Now I saw that the Methodist's doctrine of justi- 
 fication by faith was the very doctrine of the gospel; and I did no 
 
UYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 21 
 
 longer wonder at the success which those preachers met with, whether 
 they were clergymen or laymen. They preached Christ's doctrine, and 
 Christ owned it; so that many were added to the faith daily. But you 
 will say, perhaps, that these Methodists are schismatics. Let us there- 
 fore examine the matter. A schismatic is one that dissents and divides 
 an established church ; at least this is the general notion of a schismatic. 
 Now, I ask, what do you mean by a church? or what is it that makes 
 one church differ from another? Jt is the doctrine. The church of 
 England differs from the church of Rome, not by its steeples, bells, or 
 vestments, but by its doctrines. Schism, therefore, consists in depart- 
 ing from the doctrines of a church, and not from the walls of a church. 
 In the time of Stourbridge fair, a sermon is always preached in the open 
 field to the people at the fair, and preached by some Fellow of a college, 
 or clergyman at Cambridge. Now, I ask, would you call this clergyman 
 a schismatic? No, surely ; and yet he preaches in the open fields, and 
 upon unconsecrated ground. It is plain, then, that schism doth not con- 
 sist in preaching out of the walls of a church, but preaching contrary 
 to the doctrines of the church. And now, dear Sir, let me lay open my 
 sin and my shame unto you. I solemnly subscribed to the articles of 
 our church, and gave my hearty assent and consent to them. Amongst 
 the rest, I declared that ' we are accounted righteous before God, only 
 for the merits of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ by faith, and not 
 for our own works and deservings, and that we are justified by faith 
 only,' as it is expressed in the eleventh article. But though I solemnly 
 subscribed this article, I neither believed nor preached it; but preached 
 salvation partly by faith and partly by works. And oh, what dreadful 
 hypocrisy, what shameful prevarication was this! I called and thought 
 myself a churchman, though I was really a dissenter and a schismatic; 
 for I was undermining the fundamental doctrine of our church, and 
 the fundamental doctrine of the gospel, namely, justification by faith 
 only; and yet, dreadful as the case was, I fear it is the case of most of 
 the clergy in England. Scarce anything is preached but justification 
 by faith and works. And what is the consequence? Why, there is 
 scarce any true religion amongst us ; the gospel of Christ is not truly 
 preached by us, and Christ will not own our ministry. Look around 
 the parishes which are near you, and see whether you can find anything 
 besides the form of religion, and not much of that. Nay, amongst 
 those who are thought religious people; who are sober, serious, just, 
 and devout; who read, and fast, and pray, and give alms; amongst 
 those you will scarcely find one who knows anything of the power of 
 religion, and has experimental knowledge of it. For if you ask such 
 people, in the very words of Scripture, whether they know that Jesus 
 Christ is in them, otherwise they are reprobates; (2 Cor. xiii. 5;) 
 whether Christ dwells in their heart by faith ; (Eph. iii. 17;) whether 
 their sins are forgiven for Christ's name's sake; (1 John ii. 12;) whether 
 they have received an unction from the holy one; (1 John ii. 20;) whe- 
 ther the love of God has been shed abroad in their hearts by the Holy 
 Ghost; (Pom. v. 5 ;) whether they are filled with joy and peace in be- 
 lieving ; (Rom. xv. 13;) whether they walk in the comfort of the Holy 
 Ghost, and do ever rejoice, with joy unspeakable and full of glory; 
 (Acts ix. 31, 1 Peter, i. 8;) and lastly, whether the Holy Spirit bears 
 witness with their own spirit that they are the children of God; (Pom. 
 viii. 14 — 1G ;) — if, I say, you ask the better sort amongst us whether they 
 have any experience of these matters, they would stare at you with the 
 utmost amazement, and would think you an enthusiast, if they did not 
 call you so. If you read over the homilies of the church, if you read 
 
22 J. GADSBYS MEMOIRS OF 
 
 over the fathers of the church, if you read the works of the good old 
 bishops that were published a hundred years ago, you will there find 
 the gospel of Christ preached, and the true doctrine of our church. 
 But since that time, I mean in the last century, our clergy have been 
 gradually departing more and more from our doctrines, articles, and 
 homilies ; so that at length there was scarce a clergyman to be found, 
 but who preached contrary to the articles he subscribed. And almost 
 all the sermons that have been published in the last century, both by 
 bishops and curates, are full of that soul-destroying doctrine, that we 
 are to be justified partly by our own works and partly by Christ's 
 merits. And now let me ask how the whole church of Borne happened 
 to depart from the simplicity of the gospel, and to fall into this doctrine 
 of works and faith which we now preach? It was owing to the de- 
 praved nature of man, which makes him think himself to be something, 
 and that he can do something, though he is nothing, and can do nothing, 
 to justify himself in God's sight. At the Beformation, our church re- 
 turned again to Jesus Christ, and placed justification on the gospel 
 footing of faith only. And so it continues to this day ; but though our 
 articles and homilies continue sound and evangelical, yet our clergy 
 have departed once more from both, and are advancing to Borne again 
 with hasty strides; preaching, in spite of articles and subscription, that 
 most pernicious, papistical, and damnable doctrine of justification by 
 faith and works; which doctrine, I am verily assured, no one can hold, 
 and be in a state of salvation." 
 
 After Berridge had preached in this new strain a week or two, and 
 was ruminating whether he was yet right, as he had perceived no 
 better effects from these than his former discourses, one of his 
 parishioners unexpectedly came to inquire for him. Being in- 
 troduced, "Well, Sarah," said he. She replied, "Well! Not so 
 well, I fear." " Why, what is the matter, Sarah ?" "Matter ! I 
 don't know what's the matter. These new sermons. I find we 
 are all to be lost now. I can neither eat, drink, nor sleep. I 
 don't know what's to become of me." The same week came two 
 or three more on a like errand. It is easy to conceive what a relief 
 these visits afforded his mind, in a state of such anxiety. Now 
 he was deeply humbled, that he should have spent so many years 
 of his life to no better purpose than to confirm his hearers in 
 their ignorance. Thereupon immediately he burnt all his old 
 sermons, and shed a flood of tears of joy in their destruction. 
 These circumstances alarmed the neighborhood. The church 
 quickly became crowded, and God gave testimony to the word of 
 his grace, in the very frequent conviction and conversion of sin- 
 ners. Hitherto he had confined his labors to his own parish, and 
 had been accustomed to write his sermons at full length ; but an 
 incident occurred, as unexpected to him as it was novel in itself, 
 which led him to preach extempore. He had not exercised his 
 ministry in an evangelical strain many months, before he was in- 
 vited to preach what is commonly called a Club Sermon. All his 
 old sermons were burnt, and much of his time was engrossed in 
 writing new discourses. When he intended to compose this, he 
 was so much engaged with people who came under serious im- 
 pressions, that he found himself straitened for time, and there- 
 fore resolved to give the people one of his own discourses, which 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 23 
 
 he had delivered at home, not expecting that any of his pa- 
 rishioners would be present. On the Lord's Day evening, one of 
 his hearers informed him of his intention to accompany him 
 the next day. This was an unwelcome intimation, and he en- 
 deavored to dissuade him from his resolution, but to no purpose. 
 Upon this, he resolved to rise very early, pursue his journey, and 
 compose his sermon at the place where it was to be delivered, that 
 he might not be interrupted by the visits of his people. In going, 
 he comforted himself that there would be but a small congrega- 
 tion, and that a shorter discourse might be ventured on. But, to 
 his great surprise, on his arrival, he was informed that all the 
 clergy and people of the neighboring parishes were come to hear 
 him. This wrought up his mind to such a degree of agitation as 
 absolutely incapacitated him for study; and he was therefore 
 obliged to ascend the pulpit, and preach, bond fide, an extempore 
 sermon. But here God wonderfully and most agreeably disap- 
 pointed his fears, by affording him such extraordinary assistance 
 as enabled him to rise superior to all his embarrassment, and to 
 command the most solemn attention from his numerous audience. 
 This was a happy event both for himself and others, as it released 
 him from writing his sermons before he delivered them, for he 
 never afterwards penned a discourse, except on a particular occa- 
 sion, and gave him the opportunity of preaching more frequently, 
 not only at home, but in the adjacent villages. Hitherto the 
 Methodists, as they were called, Whitefield, Wesley, Lady Hunt- 
 ingdon, &c, had been personally unknown to him, and as reports 
 had operated much to their disparagement, he had had no inclina- 
 tion to seek an acquaintance with them. But novj a correspond- 
 ence was opened and an intimacy formed, which continued with 
 some of them to the end of their lives. I learn, by the following 
 extract of a letter, that his first sermon out of doors was on 
 May 14th, 17o0: "On Monday se'nnight, Mr. Hicks accompanied 
 me to Meldred. On the way we called at a farm-house. After 
 dinner I went into the yard, and seeing near 150 people, I 
 called for a table, and preached for the first time in the open air. 
 We then went to Meldred, where I preached in a field to about 
 4,000 people. In the morning, at 5, Mr. Hicks preached in the 
 same field to about 1,000. Here the presence of the Lord was 
 wonderfully among us, and I trust, beside many that were slightly 
 wounded, near 30 received true heart-felt conviction. On Monday 
 last, I went to Shelford, four miles from Cambridge, near twenty 
 from Everton. The journey made me quite ill, being so weary 
 with riding, that I was obliged to walk part of the way. When 
 I came thither, a table was set for me on the common ; and, to my 
 great surprise, I found near ten thousand people round it, among 
 whom were many gownsmen from Cambridge. I was hardly able 
 to stand on my feet, and extremely hoarse with a cold. When I 
 lifted up my foot, to get on the table, a horrible dread over- 
 whelmed me; but the moment I was fixed thereon, I seemed as 
 unconcerned as a statue. I gave out my text, (Gal. iii. 10, 11,) 
 and made a pause, to think of something pretty to set off with ; 
 but the Lord so confounded me, (as indeed it was meet, for I was 
 
 
24 j. gadsby's memoirs of 
 
 seeking not his glory, but my own,) that I was in a perfect laby- 
 rinth ; and found, if I did not begin immediately, I must go down 
 without speaking. So I broke out with the first word that oc- 
 curred, not knowing whether I should be able to add any more. 
 Then the Lord opened my mouth, enabling me to speak nearly an 
 hour, without any kind of perplexity; and so loud that every one 
 might hear. The audience behaved with great decency. When the 
 sermon was over, I found myself so cool and easy, so cheerful in 
 spirit, and wonderfully strengthened in body, I went into a house 
 and spoke near an hour, to about two hundred people. In the 
 
 morning I preached again to about a thousand." For several 
 
 years Berridge was a very rigid Arminian. Nor was it by argu- 
 ments in debate upon the subject of controversy between Armini- 
 ans and Calvinists, but by a long confinement from preaching, oc- 
 casioned by a nervous fever, that he was led into more consistent 
 views of divine truth, and in the firm belief of which he ended 
 his days. In this long and severe affliction, the Lord led him into 
 a path which he had not known, and taught him many useful 
 lessons to which he had been altogether a stranger. Hitherto he 
 had learnt to be an active, but not a passive, servant of the Lord. 
 To be laid aside in the plenitude of his success, was so irritating 
 to his nature, that, like Jonas, his heart fretted against the Lord, 
 and he wished he had never been employed in the work of the 
 ministry. To such a pitch of criminal exasperation was he carried 
 against the government of God, for checking his ministerial ca- 
 reer, that he could not even endure the sight of his Bible, nor 
 bear to hear the people sing in his adjoining church. In this 
 furnace of affliction he became much more acquainted with the 
 plague of his own heart, was led to see that the work of God could 
 be carried on without his agency, and was convinced of the divine 
 sovereignty in the dispensations of grace and appointments to the 
 sacred office. After this event, his connexions with Christians of 
 the Calvinistic persuasion were enlarged. Some time before Mr. 
 Whitefield's death, he made his first visit to the Tabernacle in 
 London, and continued to renew it every year to the close of his 
 valuable life. Jesus was a name on which he dwelt with peculiar 
 emphasis and delight. With what exalted affections would he 
 extol the bleeding Lamb, with what streaming eyes would he 
 point to his agonizing sufferings ! how would they sparkle when 
 he displayed the exceeding riches of his grace ! and what a reve- 
 rential grandeur marked his countenance when he anticipated his 
 glorious appearing ! In short, to adopt the language of the me- 
 lodious poet, Jesus was 
 
 " The circle where his passion moved, 
 And centre of his soul." 
 
 No minister could with more judgment detect the human heart 
 in all its subtle machinations. Communion with God was what 
 he much enforced in the latter stages of his ministry. It was, 
 indeed, his own meat and drink, and the banquet from which he 
 never appeared to rise. He did not confine his labors to the 
 narrow limits of Everton, a small and trifling parish, but, like the 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 25 
 
 majestic sun, illumined an extensive tract of country. His love 
 to mankind was ardent. He knew the worth of an immortal 
 soul ; he knew the awful terrors of the Lord ; he knew the empti- 
 ness of the present world; he knew the sandy foundation upon 
 which thousands build ; he knew the dangerous devices of Satan ; 
 he knew the awful precipice upon which the ungodly stand. His 
 bowels melted with pity, his heart yearned to assist them. He 
 therefore left no means unattempted to awaken their concern. 
 He would take the counties of Bedford, Cambridge, Essex, Hert- 
 ford, and Huntingdon, making the episcopal mandate the rule of 
 his operation, " Go and seek Christ's sheep wherever thou canst, 
 find them." In this circuit he preached upon an average from ten 
 to twelve sermons a week, and frequently rode a hundred miles. 
 Nor were these extraordinary exertions the hasty fruit of intermit- 
 ting zeal, but were regularly continued during the long succession 
 of more than 20 years, exemplifying, through the whole of his mi- 
 nisterial career, the motto of Dr. Doddridge, "Let us live while 
 we live." As to his usefulness, I learn from more sources of in- 
 formation than one, that he was in the first year visited by a thou- 
 sand different persons under serious impressions ; and it has been 
 computed that, under his own and the joint ministry of Mr. Hicks, 
 about 4,000 were awakened to a concern for their souls, in the 
 space of 12 months. He perpetually aimed in his preaching at 
 laying the creature low, and exalting the Saviour. His discourses 
 were chiefly of the expository kind, experimental and practical. 
 His voice was strong and loud, but perfectly under command. 
 The numbers that sometimes heard him were very great, ten and 
 fifteen thousand at some places composing his congregation; and 
 he was easily heard by all of them. People came to hear him from 
 the distance of 20 miles, and were at Everton by 7 o'clock in the 
 morning, having set out from home soon after midnight. At that 
 early hour he preached to very considerable congregations; also 
 at half-past 10 and half-past 2 o'clock, and again in the evening. 
 Incredible as this history of his success may appear, it comes au- 
 thenticated through a channel so highly respectable, that to refuse 
 our belief would be unpardonably illiberal. This work was at first 
 accompanied with bodily convulsions and other external effects on 
 some of the hearers; but those effects soon subsided, and the 
 work was carried on more quietly and gradually. As his 
 labors were prosperous, so they were opposed. It could not be 
 grateful to the prince of darkness to behold his kingdom so 
 warmly attacked, and his subjects in such numbers desert his 
 standard. Hence he stirred up all his strength, and a furious 
 persecution ensued. No opposition was too violent, no names 
 were too opprobrious, no treatment was too barbarous. Some of 
 his followers were roughly handled, and their property destroyed. 
 Gentry, clergy, and magistrates became one band, and employed 
 every engine to check his progress and silence him from preaching. 
 The Old Devil was the only name by which he was distinguished 
 among them for between 20 and 30 years. But none of these things 
 moved him. He had counted the cost, and was prepared for the 
 fool's cap. The clamors of the multitude had no more effect 
 
25 j. gadsby's memoirs of 
 
 upon his mind, in the regular discharge of his duty, than the 
 barking of the contemptible cur has upon the moon in her im- 
 perial revolutions. Vengeance was not his. The only revenge 
 he sought was their salvation ; and when they needed any good 
 office, his hand was the first to render it. "Soon after I began to 
 preach the gospel at Everton," says Berridge, in a letter, "the 
 churches in the neighborhood were deserted, and mine so over- 
 crowded, that the squire, who did not like strangers (he said) 
 and hated to be incommoded, joined with the offended parsons; 
 and soon after, a complaint having been made against me, I was 
 summoned before the bishop. * Well, Berridge/ said his lordship, 
 ' did I institute you to Eaton, or to Potton? Why do you go 
 preaching out of your own parish?' 'My Lord,' says I, 'I make 
 no claims to the living of those parishes. ' Tis true, I was once at 
 Eaton, and, finding a few poor people assembled, I admonished 
 them to repent of their sins, and to believe in the Lord Jesus 
 Christ, for the salvation of their souls. At that very moment, 
 my Lord, there were five or s :x clergymen out of their own parishes, 
 and enjoying themselves on the Eaton bowling-green.' 'Pooh! I 
 tell you,' retorted his lordship, ' if you continue preaching where 
 you have no right, you will very likely be sent to Huntingdon 
 gaol!' 'I have no more regard, my Lord, for a gaol than other 
 folks,' rejoined I; 'but I had rather go there with a good con- 
 science, than be at liberty without one !' His lordship looked 
 very hard at me. 'Poor fellow,' said he, 'you are beside your- 
 self, and in a few months you will either be better or worse.' 
 ' Then, my Lord,' said I, 'you may make yourself quite happy 
 in this business ; for, if I should be better, you suppose I shall 
 <?es:st of my own accord; and if worse, you will not send me to 
 Huntingdon gaol, for I shall be better accommodated in Bedlam !' 
 His lordship then pathetically entreated me, as one who had been, 
 and wished to continue, my friend, not to embitter the remaining 
 portion of his days by any squabbles with my brother clergymen, 
 but to go home to my parish, and so long as I kept within it I 
 should be at liberty to do what I liked there. 'I have but a 
 little time to live,' said he ; 'do not bring down my grey hairs 
 with sorrow to the grave.' At this instant, two gentlemen were 
 announced, who desired to speak with his lordship. 'Berridge,' 
 said he, 'go to your inn, and .come again at such an hour, and 
 dine with me.' I went, and, on entering a private room, fell 
 immediately upon my knees. I could bear threatening, but knew 
 not how to withstand entreaty, especially the entreaty of a respect- 
 able old man. At the appointed time I returned. At dinner, I 
 was treated with great respect. The two gentlemen also dined 
 with us. I found they had been informed who I was, as they 
 sometimes cast their eyes towards me, in some such manner as one 
 would glance at a monster. After dinner, his lordship took me 
 into the garden. ' Well, Berridge,' said he, 'have you considered 
 of my request?' 'I have, my Lord,' said I, 'and have been upon 
 my knees concerning it.' 'Well, and will you promise me that 
 you will preach no more out of your own parish V ' It would 
 afford me great pleasure,' said I, 'to comply with your lordship's 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 27 
 
 request, if I could do it with a good conscience. I am satisfied 
 the Lord has blessed my labors of this kind, and I dare not desist.' 
 * A good conscience!' said his lordship; 'do you not know that 
 it is contrary to the canons of the Church?' ' There is one 
 canon, my Lord,' I replied, 'which saith, "Go, preach the Gospel 
 to every creature.'" 'But why should you wish to interfere with 
 the charge of other men ? One man cannot preach the gospel to all 
 men.' ' If they would preach the gospel themselves,' said I, 
 < there would be no need for my preaching it to their people; but 
 as they do not, I cannot desist.' His lordship then parted with 
 me in some displeasure. I returned home, not knowing what 
 would befall me; but thankful to God that I had preserved a 
 conscience void of offence. I took no measures for my own pre- 
 servation, but divine providence wrought for me in a way I never 
 expected. When I was at Clare Hall, I was particularly acquainted 
 with a Fellow of that college ; and we were both upon terms of 
 intimacy with Mr. Pitt, the late Lord Chatham, who was at that 
 time also at the University. This Fellow of Clare Hall, when I 
 began to preach the gospel, became my enemy, and did me some 
 injury in some ecclesiastical privileges, which beforetime I had 
 enjoyed. At length, however, when he heard that I was likely to 
 come into trouble, and to be turned out of my living at Everton, 
 his heart relented. He began to think, it seems, within himself, 
 we shall ruin this poor fellow among us. This was just about the 
 time that I was sent for by the bishop. Of his own accord he 
 writes a letter to Mr. Pitt, saying nothing about my Methodism, 
 but, to this effect : ' Our old friend Berridge has got a living in 
 
 Bedfordshire, and I am informed there is one that gives 
 
 him a great deal of trouble, has accused him to the bishop of the 
 diocese, and, it is said, will turn him out of his living. I wish 
 you could contrive to put a stop to these proceedings.' Mr. Pitt 
 was at that time a young man, and not choosing to apply to the 
 bishop himself, spoke to a certain nobleman, to whom the bishop 
 was indebted for his promotion. This nobleman, within a few 
 days, made it his business to see the bishop, who was then in 
 London. 'My Lord,' said he, 'I am informed you have a very 
 honest fellow, one Berridge, in your diocese, and that he has been 
 
 ill-treated by a litigious person . He has accused him, I 
 
 am told, to your lordship, and wishes to turn him out of his living. 
 You would oblige me, my Lord, if you would take no notice of that 
 person, and not suffer the honest man to be interrupted in his 
 living.' The bishop was astonished, and could not imagine in 
 what manner things could have thus got round. It would not do, 
 however, to object; he was obliged to bow compliance, and so I 
 continued ever after uninterrupted in my sphere of action. The 
 person, having waited on the bishop to know the result of the sum- 
 mons, had the mortification to learn that his purpose was defeated. 
 On his return home, his partisans in this prosecution fled to know 
 what was determined on, saying, ' Well, you have got the Old Devil 
 out?' He replied, 'No; nor do I think the very devil himself can 
 
 get him out.'" It would be a task to recollect the numerous 
 
 instances of Berridge's benevolence. Never man entered upon 
 
28 J. gadsby's memoirs op 
 
 the work with more disinterested views. His purse was as open as 
 his heart, though not so large. At home, his tables were served with 
 a cold collation for his numerous hearers, who came from far on 
 Lord's Days, and his field and stable open for their horses. Abroad, 
 houses and barns were rented, lay-preachers maintained, and his 
 own travelling expenses disbursed by himself. Cottagers were 
 always gainers by his company. He invariably left a half-crown 
 for the homely provision of the day, and during his itinerancy it 
 actually cost him £500 in this single article of expenditure. Nor 
 was his liberality confined to these channels. His ear was ever 
 attentive to the tale of woe, his eye was keen to observe the 
 miseries of the poor, the law of kindness was written upon his 
 heart, and his hand was always ready to administer relief. The 
 gains of his vicarage, of his fellowship, and of his patrimonial in- 
 come (for his father died very rich) were appropriated to support 
 his liberality ; and even his family plate was converted into clothes 
 for his itinerant preachers. But the most prominent feature in 
 his character was his unaffected humility. He never spoke of 
 himself but in language the most depreciating ; and when he re- 
 lated any interfering providence or display of stupendous grace 
 on his behalf, it would generally be with streaming eyes, and the 
 sweetest expressions of praise upon his lips. He was naturally 
 of a jocular turn of mind, and in his earlier days had been the 
 very life of his companions. No doubt, when grace laid hold of 
 him, this proved a source of great grief to him. "His stature," 
 says Mr. Whittingham, "was tall, but not awkward; his make 
 was lusty, but not corpulent; his voice was deep, but not hoarse; 
 strong, but not noisy; his pronunciation was distinct, but not 
 broad. In his countenance there was gravity, without grimace; 
 his address was solemn, but not sour; easy, but not careless; de- 
 liberate, but not drawling; pointed, but not personal; affectionate, 
 but not fawning. He would often weep, but never whine. His 
 sentences were short, but not ambiguous. His ideas were collected, 
 but not crowded. Upon the whole, his manner and person were 
 
 agreeable and majestic." In January, 1793, he intended to have 
 
 again visited London; but, instead of his presence, his friends 
 received the lamentable intelligence of his death. For some days 
 previous to his decease, his strength and health had visibly de- 
 creased ; and on Sunday, the 20th, he came down into his parlor as 
 usual, but with great difficulty reached his chamber in the even- 
 ing. A few hours after he was in bed, he appeared to be seized 
 with the symptoms of immediate dissolution. His face was con- 
 tracted,and his speech faltered ; and in this situation he continued 
 till about 3 o'clock on Tuesday afternoon, Jan. 22nd, when, 
 breathing less and less, this champion for his Redeemer fell a 
 victim to mortality, in the 76th year of his age. His frame of 
 mind during his last hours appears to have been peculiarly com- 
 fortable. Mr. Whittingham, whom I have already mentioned, 
 said, " Sir, the Lord has enabled you to fight a good fight, and to 
 finish a truly glorious course." He answered, "Blessed be his holy 
 name for it." It was also said to him, "Jesus will soon call you 
 up higher." He replied, " Aye, aye, aye; higher, higher, higher V* 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 29 
 
 On the ensuing Lord's Day, his remains were interred in his own 
 churchyard. As he was never married, he left no widow to de- 
 plore his loss, nor children to perpetuate his memory. The "Chris- 
 tian World Unmasked," and the hymns called "Zion's Songs," are 
 the only works which he issued. His hymns appear to have been 
 originally published in 1795. Prior to this time, however, some 
 of them appeared in the "Gospel Magazine," under the signature, 
 "Old Everton," the earliest being in 1774. In the preface, Ber- 
 ridge says, "Many years ago these hymns were composed in a six 
 months' illness, and have since lain neglected by me, often threat- 
 ened with the fire, but have escaped that martyrdom. Fatherly 
 mercy prevented that literary death, for authors can seldom prove 
 cruel to their own offspring, however deformed." The following 
 is the epitaph on his tombstone, written by himself (except, of 
 course, the last date): "Here lie the remains of John Berridge, 
 late Vicar of Everton, and an itinerant servant of Jesus Christ, 
 who loved his Master and his work; and, after running on his 
 errands for many years, was caught up to wait on him above. 
 Reader, art thou born again? (No salvation without a new birth.) 
 I was born in sin, Feb., 1716; remained ignorant of my fallen 
 state till 1730; lived proudly on faith and works for salvation 
 till 1754; was admitted to Everton Vicarage, 1755 ; fled to Jesus 
 
 for refuge, 1755; fell asleep in Jesus, Jan. 22nd, 1793." "The 
 
 middle and latter end of the last century," says the Editor of 
 the "Gospel Standard," (page 218, Vol. XVII.) "was a remark- 
 able period. A chain of ministers, commencing with White-field, 
 and embracing in its links Toplady, Berridge, Newton, Romaine, 
 Huntington, and Hawker, extends itself down to our degenerate 
 days. However differing in gifts, all these men were evidently 
 taught by the same Spirit, and preached the same gospel. Top- 
 lady, like a lamp fed with spirit, flamed forth, blazed, and died, 
 from shortness of wick, not from lack of supply. Newton, 
 snatched from Afric's burning shore, and from worse than Afri- 
 can servitude, united to much sound wisdom great tenderness of 
 spirit, and an experience of divine things which, if not very deep, 
 was sound and varied. He knew much of his own heart, was 
 singularly frank and sincere, had much sympathy with the tried 
 and afflicted, and being gifted with an easy, fluent style, has left 
 behind him many useful and excellent letters. Romaine was a 
 burning and shining light, who lived the faith which he preached, 
 and in the midst of the metropolis for half a century had but one 
 theme, one subject, one object, Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, to- 
 day, and for ever. In many points widely differing, but united by the 
 samefaith to the same glorious Head of influence, life, light, lil erty, 
 and love, was John Berridge. As all the lines of a circle radiate to- 
 wards the centre, all necessarily meet in one point ; so, however 
 the servants of Christ may differ in ability, gifts, time, place, and 
 usefulness, yet all meet in one point, the central Sun of the sys- 
 tem — the crucified, risen, ascended, and glorified Son of God. 
 Romaine, poring over Hebrew roots in his study at Lambeth, and 
 Berridge preaching from a horse-block at Potton, mingling smiles 
 with tears, and the quaintest humor with the deepest pathos, 
 
30 j. gadsby's memoirs of 
 
 were as different in natural disposition and constitution as can 
 well be imagined. But each sighed and groaned under a body 
 of sin and death, each dearly loved, and each highly exalted 
 the dying Friend of sinners, each was honored and blessed in 
 his work, and each is now in the bosom of his Lord and God." 
 As Berridge was deeply led into a knowledge of his own heart, he 
 knew how to attack Satan in the strong-holds of his hearers. On 
 one occasion, when addressing his people, who were principally 
 agriculturists, he said, "Have not some of you, when you have 
 ploughed a furrow, looked back, and observing it well done, 
 proudly said, There is not a man in the parish, who can plough a 
 better furrow than this ?" A ploughman had actually expressed 
 himself in such terms, and on hearing a further description of 
 pride with its awful consequence, was savingly convinced of sin, 
 and afterwards manifested a conversation and practice becoming 
 the christian character. A man of more than the common size 
 once went to hear him, and placed himself immediately before 
 the pulpit with the full design of incommoding him, and render- 
 ing him confused ; for that purpose he made various gesticulations, 
 and uttered most contemptuous expressions. Berridge, not in 
 the least intimidated, thought it proper to address him personally, 
 which he did in so powerful a manner, as to cause him to sink 
 down in the pew, and to perspire through his great coat. As 
 soon as he came out of the church, he acknowledged his intention, 
 saying, "I came to confuse this good man, but God has made 
 him the means of convincing me that I am a sinful, lost sinner." 
 The conviction thus produced proved saving and permanent. He 
 lived an ornament to the gospel, and when he departed this life, 
 he slept in Jesus. At another time, while he was standing upon 
 a table, and preaching in the open air, to a multitude of people, 
 two men got under the table with the design of overturning it, 
 but the word so powerfully penetrated their hearts, that they could 
 not effect their purpose ; and afterwards they desired to speak to 
 him, when they declared, with expressions of grief and shame, 
 what they had intended to do. Others came with their pockets 
 filled with stones to throw at him while preaching, but finding 
 the discourse they heard affecting their hearts, they gradually 
 emptied their pockets of the stones they had put into them ; and 
 afterwards they also confessed to him the motive by which they 
 were actuated respecting him, and requested that he would pray for 
 them. "0 King of Glory," said one eminent man, when a num- 
 ber of scoffers were present while Berridge was preaching, "break 
 some of them in pieces; but let it be to the saving of their souls! 
 I had but just spoken, when I heard a dreadful noise on the farther 
 side of the congregation ; and, turning thither, saw one Thomas 
 Skinner coming forward, the most horrible human figure I ever 
 saw. His large wig and hair were coal black ; his face distorted 
 beyond all description. He roared incessantly, throwing and 
 clapping his hands together with his whole force. Several were 
 terrified, and hastened out of the way. I was glad to hear him 
 after awhile pray aloud. Not a few of the triflers grew serious, while 
 his kindred and acquaintance were very unwilling to believe even 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 31 
 
 their own eyes and ears. They would fain have got him away; 
 but he fell to the earth, crying, 'My burden ! my burden ! I can- 
 not bear it.' Some of his brother scoffers were calling for horse- 
 whips, till they saw him extended on his back at full length. 
 They then said he was dead; and, indeed, the only sign of life 
 was the working of his breast, and the distortions of his face, 
 while the veins cf his neck were swelled, as if ready to burst. 
 He was just before, the chief captain of Satan's forces; none was 
 by nature more fitted for mockery, none could swear more heroi- 
 cally to whip out of the close all who were affected by the preach- 
 ing." A lay-preacher in London, named Bell, once got it into his 
 
 head that he should be carried to heaven in a chariot of fire. Mr. 
 Berridge once sent for him, and said, "I have heard, Mr. Bell, 
 that you say you shall be carried up to heaven in a chariot of 
 fire." "aSo I shall," replied Mr. Bell, in a tone of uncommon 
 exultation. "Indeed!" added Mr. Berridge, "then you will be 
 highly honored. May I request one favor of you?" "Most as- 
 suredly," answered Mr. Bell. "When you are carried up to 
 heaven in a chariot of fire," replied Mr. Berridge, "I request that 
 you will grant me the honor of being your postilion." Mr. Ber- 
 ridge, soon after his connexion with the Tabernacle in London, 
 was visited by a lady, who came down in her carriage from London 
 to Everton, to solicit his hand in marriage, assuring him that the 
 Lord had revealed it to her that she was to become his wife. He 
 was not a little surprised at her application, and for such a pur- 
 pose. He paused for a few moments, and then replied, "Madam,, 
 if the Lord has revealed it to you that you are to be my wife, 
 surely he would also have revealed it to me that I was designed 
 to be your husband ; but as no such revelation has been made to 
 
 me, I cannot comply with your wishes." Age and infirmities 
 
 caused the good old man to be almost both blind and deaf before 
 he died. "My ears are now so dull," said he, "they are not fit for 
 converse; and my eyes are so weak, I can read but little, and 
 write less. Old Adam, who is the devil's darling, sometimes 
 w r hispers in my ears, (and he can make me hear with a whisper,) 
 'What will you do, if you become both deaf and blind?' I tell him, 
 I must think the more, and pray the more, yea, and thank the 
 Lord for eyes and ears enjoyed till I was seventy; and for the 
 prospect of a better pair of eyes and ears when these are gone." 
 Mr. B. was once an unusually long time cleaning his spectacles 
 while the people were waiting for him to rise. At length he said, 
 "If you can see without spectacles, thank God for it. I thank 
 
 him that I can see even with them." The following lines were 
 
 by Berridge, and pasted on his clock : 
 
 "Here my master Lids me stand, 
 
 And mark the time with faithful hand; , 
 
 What is his will is my delight, 
 
 To tell the hours by day, by night. 
 
 Master, be wise, and learn of me, 
 
 To serve thy God, as I serve thee." 
 
 Most of the preceding account I have taken from periodicals, the 
 "Gospel Magazine," the "Evangelical Magazine," and the "Cos- 
 
32 J. gadsby's memoirs of 
 
 pel Standard;" but I am indebted for much to the work by Mr. 
 Whittingham already alluded to. This work contains many very 
 interesting letters, with Zion's Songs, &c. &c. Those of my 
 readers who can afford to do so will do well to purchase it. The 
 following extracts from some of Berridge's letters will be found 
 interesting : 
 
 To Lady Huntingdon, March 23rd, 1770 : "Eight or nine years ago, 
 having been grievously tormented with housekeepers, I truly had 
 thoughts of looking out for a Jezebel myself. But it seemed highly 
 needful to ask advice of the Lord. So, falling down on my knees before 
 a table, with a Bible between my hands, I besought the Lord to give 
 me a direction; then letting the Bible fall open of itself, I fixed my 
 eyes immediately on these words, ' When my son was entered into his 
 wedding chamber, he fell down and died.' (2 Esdras x. 1.) This fright- 
 ened me heartily, you may easily think; but Satan, who stood peeping 
 at my elbow, not liking the heavenly caution, presently suggested a 
 scruple, that the book was apocryphal, and the words not to be heeded. 
 Well, after a short pause, I fell on my knees again, and prayed the Lord 
 not to be angry with me, whilst, like Gideon, I requested a second sign, 
 and from the canonical Scripture; then, letting my Bible fall open as 
 before, I fixed my eyes directly on this passage, ' Thou shalt not take 
 thee a wife, neither shalt thou have sons or daughters in this place.' 
 (Jer. xvi. 2.) I was now completely satisfied, and being thus made ac- 
 quainted with my Lord's mind, I make it one part of my prayers. And 
 I can look on these words, not only as a rule of direction, but as a pro- 
 mise of security, ' Thou shalt not take a wife' — that is, I will keep thee 
 from taking one." 
 
 To Lady Huntingdon, 3rd, 17G3: "0 heart! heart! what art 
 
 thou? A mass of fooleries and absurdities! The vainest, foolishest, 
 craftiest, wickedest, thing in nature. And yet the Lord Jesus asks me 
 for this heart, woos me for it, died to win it. wonderful love! 
 Adorable condescension ! 
 
 'Take it, Lord, and let it be 
 Ever closed to all but thee."' 
 
 Writing to Lady Huntingdon about her new college for ministers, 
 at Trevecca, he says, 
 
 " The soil you have chosen is proper. Welsn mountains afford a 
 brisk air for a student; and the rules are excellent; but I doubt the 
 success of the project, and fear it will occasion you more trouble than 
 all your other undertakings besides. Are we commanded to send 
 laborers, or to pray the Lord to send them? Will not Jesus choose 
 and teach, and send forth his ministering servants now, as he did 
 the disciples aforetime, and glean them up when, and where, and 
 how he j)leaseth? The world says, No; because they are strangers to 
 a divine commission and a divine teaching. And what if these asses 
 blunder about the Master's meaning for a time and mistake it often, as 
 they did formerly ? No great harm will ensue, providing they are kept 
 from paper and ink, or from a white wall and charcoal. Do you like to 
 see cade-lambs in a house and suckling with a finger, or to view them 
 skipping after the dam in their own proper pasture? We read of a 
 school of prophets in Scripture, but we do not read that it was God's 
 appointment. Elijah visited the school, which was at Bethel, and 
 seems to have been fond of it; yet the Lord commands him to fetch a 
 successor, not from the school, but, as the Romans fetched a dictator, 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 33 
 
 from the plough. Are we told of a single preaching prophet that was 
 taken < at of this school? or do we find any public employment given 
 the scholars, except once sending a light-heeled young man, when light 
 heels were needful, with a horn of oil to anoint Jehu? (2 Kings ix.) 
 That old prophet, who told a sad lie to another prophet, was of this 
 school, and might he the master of the college, for he was a greyheaded 
 man. (I Kings xiii. 11.)" 
 
 To Lady Huntingdon, Dec. 2Gth, 1777: "I do not want a helper 
 merely to stand up in my pulpit, but to ride round my district. And I 
 fear my weekly circuits would not suit a London or a Bath divine, nor 
 any tender evangelist that is environed with prunella. Long rides and 
 miry roads in sharp weather! Cold houses to sit in with very moderate 
 fuel, and three or lour children roaring or rocking about you ! Coarse 
 food and meagre liquor; lumpy beds to lie on, and too short for the 
 feet; stiff blankets, like boards, for a coveiing; and live cattle in plenty 
 to feed upon you. Rise at 5 in the morning to preach at 7 ; breakfast 
 on tea that smells very sickly ; at 8 mount a horse, with boots never 
 cleaned, and then ride home, praising God for all mercies." 
 
 To Lady Huntingdon, April '2(jtli, 1777: "I regard neither High 
 Church nor Low Church, nor any church, but the church of Christ, 
 which is not built with hand?, nor circumscribed within peculiar walls, 
 nor confined to a singular denomination. I cordially approve the doc- 
 trines and liturgy of the Church of England, and have cause to bless 
 God for a church-house to preach in, and a church revenue to live upon. 
 And I could wish the gospel might not only be preached in all the 
 British churches, but established therein by Christ's Spirit, as well as 
 by a national statute; but from the principles of the clergy and the 
 leading men in the nation, which are growing continually more un- 
 scriptural and licentious, I do fear our defence is departing, and the 
 glory is removing from our land. Perhaps, in less than 100 years to 
 come, the church lands maybe seized onto hedge up Government gaps, 
 as the abbey lands were 250 years ago. But you say the Lord is send- 
 ing many gospel laborers into the church. True, and with a view, I 
 think, of calling his people out of it. Because, when such ministers 
 are removed by death, or transported to another vineyard, I see no fresh 
 gospel laborer succeed them, which obliges the forsaken Hocks to fly to 
 a meeting. And what else can they do? If they have tasted of manna, 
 and hunger for it, they cannot feed on heathen chaff, nor yet on legal 
 crusts, though baked by some stanch pharisee quite up to perfection." 
 
 To Lady Huntingdon, Dec. oOth, 17G8 : "A very heavy time have I 
 had for the last three weeks; cloudy days and moonless nights. Only 
 a little consolation fetched down now and then by a little dull prayer. 
 At times I am ready to wish that sin and the devil were both dead, 
 nake such a horrible racket within me and about me. Bather let 
 me pray, Lord, Give me faith and patience; teach me to expect the cross 
 daily, and help me to take it up cheerfully. "Wofully weary I am of 
 myself, but know not how to live and feast daily upon Jesus. A trea- 
 sure he is indeed, but lies hid in a field, and I know not how to dig in 
 the dark/' 
 
 To 3fr. Coats, April 2'2nd, 17G1 : "Why do you write to me with so much : 
 reverence, and make so many apologies for writing? Is this becoming 
 language from one sinner to another sinner? Ought the dust of 
 the earth to elevate his kindred ashes? Or should a frog croak out a 
 compliment to a toad? And need I this? If you love me, do not hurt 
 me. I do not want to be tanght well of myself; the devil would teach 
 me this daily, and is so skilful a doctor in his own business that he 
 
34 J. gadsby's memoirs of 
 
 needeth not a helping hand from God's own children. Before you 
 write again to me, look into yourself, and if you find anything there 
 that causeth something, then sit down and write to John Berridge as 
 you would write to one Alexander Coats. I find you are got to your 
 crutches. Well, thank God for a crutch to help a lame leg; this both 
 showeth and helpeth your weakness. Truly, my friend, your cross is 
 just the same with my own. I am not able to walk a step without a 
 crutch, so lame I am. The wood of it comes from Calvary. My crutch 
 is Christ; and a blessed crutch he is. let me bear my whole weight 
 upon Thee, whilst I am walking through this wilderness!" 
 
 To Lady Margaret Ingham, Jan. 28th, 1766: "I am one of those 
 strange folk who set up for journeymen without knowing their Master's 
 business, and offer many precious wares to sell without understanding 
 their full value. I have got a Master too, a most extraordinary person, 
 whom I am supposed to be well acquainted with, because he employs 
 me as a riding pedlar to serve near fourteen shops in the country, 
 besides my own parish; yet I know much less of my Master than I do 
 of his wares. Often is my tongue describing him as the fairest of 
 men, whilst my heart is painting him as the Witch of Endor; and 
 many big w^ords have I spoken to his credit; j^ea, and frequently be- 
 seeching people to trust him with their all, whilst my own heart has 
 been afraid to trust him with a groat." 
 
 To Mr. , Oct. 23rd, 1779: "Dear Sir,— Your letter of the 2nd 
 
 of July came duly to hand, but has waited a wearisome while for an 
 answer. Indeed, I have been much, yet not too much, afflicted with 
 my old disorder for some months, a nervous fever. We have been 
 housekeepers every summer for forty years; and this fever-friend has 
 kept me this summer twelve weeks at home, and forbids me all literary 
 correspondence. As winter comes on, I begin to revive; and when the 
 swallows march off, I begin to march out; as when the swallows return, 
 I am obliged to keep in. 'Tis well we are not in our own keeping, nor 
 at our own carving, since we so little know what is good for us. I do 
 not love this fever-friend; yet he is certainly the best earthly companion 
 I have. No lasting gain do I get but in a furnace. Comforts of every 
 kind make me either light or lofty, and swell me, though unperceivably, 
 with self-sufficiency. Indeed, so much dross, native and acquired, is 
 found in my heart, that I have constant need of a furnace; and Jesus 
 has selected a suitable furnace for me, not a hot and hasty one, which 
 seems likely to harden and consume me, but one with a gentle and 
 lingering heat, which melts my heart gradually, and lets out some of 
 its dross, though I cannot love a furnace, nor bask in it like a sala- 
 mander, yet the longer I live, the more I see of its need and its use. 
 A believer seldom walks steadily and ornamentally, unless he is w r ell 
 furnaced. Without this his zeal is often scalding hot ; his boldness 
 attended with fierceness, or rather rashness; and his confidence at 
 times more the result of animal spirit than the fruit of the Spirit; but 
 a furnace consumes these excrescences, and when sweetly blown with 
 grace, will make a Christian humble, watchful, and mellow; very cen- 
 sorious of himself and full of compassion for others. May your con- 
 gregation be increasing in numbers, and the power of the Lord be 
 present to wound and to heal, to quicken, and comfort, and build." 
 
 To Mr. N., Jan. Ibth, J 774 : " Dear N.,— The first pages of your letters 
 are usually much illuminated with compliments. I wonder where you 
 pick them all up, and how you find storage for them. Indeed, the old 
 ass of Everton cannot discern his own features when you have cropped 
 his ears and tail, and powdered and spruced him up in a letter. I am 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 35 
 
 daily praying to know more of my blindness, helplessness, and vileness, 
 and you are kindly contriving to put a mask on my face. Is this 
 Christianity, or have I provoked you to it by sweetly begriming your 
 own face? Leave this varnish, dear N., to the world who love to gild 
 a base metal and make it look like gold." (See p. 153.) 
 
 Bradberry (David). — I can give but little account of this 
 author. He wrote several poems, most of which were not pub- 
 lished until after his death. One of his poems, entitled " Tetel- 
 estai, or the Final Close," was reviewed in the Evangelical Maga- 
 zine for 1796. This poem was printed and published in Man- 
 chester; and as, in Rippon's Register for 1790, I find mention 
 made of one " Rev. Mr. Bradberry" as attending a meeting in 
 Manchester, it is probable that he was originally settled over a 
 people somewhere in that district. In Wilson's " History of Dis- 
 senters," there is a brief notice of one David Bradbury, who suc- 
 ceeded the celebrated Sandeman, the founder of Sandemanianism, 
 at Glover's Hall, London. This may be the same person, though 
 the name is spelt differently; and if so, he must have embraced 
 Sandemanianism, and removed from Lancashire to London. In 
 the Theological Magazine, Vol. I., there is a portrait, " David 
 Bradberry, Kennington." In a Collection of Hymns, by Joseph 
 Middleton, 1793, the hymn, 
 
 " Come, thou Almighty King," 
 is called Bradberry's ; but as I find it in Madan's Selection, sixth 
 edition, 24 years earlier, I am inclined to think it must be Ma- 
 dan's. Indeed, I am told, but have not seen it, that it is in Ma- 
 dan's Supplement, 1761. (See p. 153.) 
 
 Bradford (John, A.B.) was born in 1750. He was educated 
 at Wadham College, Oxford. In the early part of his life he was 
 Curate of Frelsham, Berkshire, but during that time confesses he 
 was an avowed Arian, and denied the divinity of the Son of 
 God. He was writing a sermon from the words, " Ye must be 
 born again," wdien the Holy Spirit broke into his heart, and 
 caused him to feel as he had never felt before. Sins were pre- 
 sented to his mind of which he had never thought, and which he 
 had never considered to be sins. He now saw that he must be 
 born again, and cried earnestly that he might experience the new 
 birth, not knowing, or just then reflecting, that a dead child can- 
 not cry. He never finished the sermon, but instead thereof burnt 
 nearly all that he had previously written. The first relief he felt 
 was from a manifestation that Jesus Christ was God. He had 
 never doubted but that such a man as Jesus Christ had lived, but 
 he had never beheld him as God. He now saw that his Deity 
 was the ground of all Christian confidence. The following Sunday 
 he went and preached from what he had really felt, and the effect 
 he describes as wonderful. No less than five persons were awa- 
 kened under that sermon. Some time afterwardshe joined the 
 Countess of Huntingdon, who purchased the theatre at Birming- 
 ham, and sent him there. He was then very popular. The 
 entire theatre — pit, boxes, gallery, and stage, was sometimes 
 crammed. He subsequently left the Countess's connexion, and 
 
6 J. GADSBYS MEMOIRS OF 
 
 went to a chapel in Bartholomew Street, Birmingham, which was 
 built for him. In 1797, he removed to Grub Street Chapel, Lon- 
 don, where he remained until his death, July 16th, 1805. His 
 nymns were published at Birmingham in 1792. 
 "0 the power of love divine," 
 is one of them. 
 
 Brady (Nicholas) was born at Brandon, in Ireland, in 1659, 
 and died in 1726. He was a clergyman of the Church of England, 
 and published many sermons. In conjunction with ISTahum Tate, 
 he issued a new authorised version of the Psalms for the Church 
 of England. It is called Tate and Brady's. 
 
 Brewer (Jehoida) was born in Monmouthshire in 1751 or 1752. 
 He commenced preaching when in his 22nd year, and settled at 
 an Independent Chapel in Livery Street, Birmingham, in 1795. 
 A large chapel was in course of erection for him when he died, 
 Aug. 24th, 1817. He was interred in the ground adjoining the un- 
 finished chapel. He expressly wished that no memoir of him 
 should ever be published. That beautiful hymn, 
 
 "Hail, sov'reign Love, that first began," 
 was, I believe, the only one he ever wrote. 
 
 Browne (Simon) was born at Shepton Mailett, Somersetshire, 
 about the year 16S0. He began to preach before he was 20 years 
 of age, and was soon afterwards settled over a considerable congre- 
 gation at Portsmouth. In 1716, he removed to the Old Jewry, 
 London, Here he remained about seven years, when he was at- 
 tacked by a very singular malady, which hung upon him, without 
 any intermission, during the remainder of his life. He imagined 
 that God, by a singular instance of divine power, had, in a gradual 
 manner, annihilated him in the thinking substance, and utterly 
 divested him of consciousness. Nothing grieved him more than 
 that he could not persuade others to think of him as he thought 
 of himself. Several causes have been ascribed for this malady, one 
 of which was that, once when on a journey with a friend, they 
 were attacked by a highwayman with loaded pistols. Mr. Browne, 
 being the stronger, disarmed him, and, seizing him by the collar, 
 they both fell to the ground. Mr. Browne was uppermost, and 
 kept the man down until his friend ran for assistance. When as- 
 sistance arrived, Mr. B. arose from off the man, when, to his un- 
 speakable terror, he found the man was dead. From that sad 
 period, Mr. B. became a prey to that awful imagination which 
 ever after haunted him. At the beginning of his disorder, he had 
 frequent propensities to destroy himself, but he became a little 
 more calm later on in life. Even while in this state of mind, he 
 wrote a Defence of Christianity and several other books, yet still 
 maintained that he had no power to think. He died at the close 
 of 1732. His remains were interred in the meeting-house of Shep- 
 ton Mailett, where a monument was erected to his memory. When 
 he gave up preaching and left London, his congregation presented 
 him with .£300. He was a man greatly respected. His hymns 
 were printed in 1720. The preface is very curious, giving an ac* 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 37 
 
 count of all the hymn-writers that had lived before him , so far as 
 could be ascertained. Amongst his hymns is the following: 
 "Come, gracious Spirit, heavenly Dove." 
 Burder (George) was born in London, June 5th, 1752. On 
 leaving school, he was placed with an engraver. As he advanced 
 in years, he attended the preaching of Whitefield and Romaine. 
 "My judgment," he says, "was before informed, but I found my 
 heart affected by this kind of preaching." At the age of 21 he 
 commenced business as an engraver. When 24 he preached his 
 first sermon. He had strong inducements to join the Calvinistic 
 Methodists, but, from conscientious motives, declined, and united 
 himself with the Congregational Dissenters. About a year after- 
 wards he accepted a call to Lancaster, where he continued for six 
 years. He then removed to Coventry, where he remained nearly 
 20 years, preaching frequently in the villages throughout the 
 counties of Warwick, Stafford, and Nottingham. He was one of 
 the leading men in the formation of the London Missionary So- 
 ciety, in 1795, and was the "projector" of the Religious Tract 
 Society. In 1803, he was appointed Gratuitous Secretary to the 
 Missionary Society, and one of the editors of the "Evangelical 
 Magazine." He also accepted an invitation to become the pastor 
 of the Congregational Chapel, Fetter Lane, London. His "Village 
 Sermons" arc well known. He died in 1832. 
 
 Burkitt (William, M.A) was born July 25th, 1650. He was 
 Vicar of Dedham, in Essex. On Lord's Day, Oct. 17th, 1703, 
 while he was attending in the congregation at his church, having 
 another minister officiating for him, he was struck with that sick- 
 ness from which he never recovered. He was a great enemy to 
 adult baptism by immersion. A Mr. John Tredwell having taken 
 charge of a small Baptist cause at Lavingham, several of Mr. B.'s 
 congregation joined his church. Mr. B. was greatly offended, and 
 warned his people against the dangerous principles and practices 
 of this sect, and cast many unjust and uncharitable reflections 
 upon his neighbors and their opinions. Mr. Tredwell, who es- 
 teemed the character of Mr. Burkitt, wrote him a friendly letter, 
 endeavoring to persuade him to desist from such practices, so de- 
 rogatory to his character and reputation in the world. But he was 
 unsuccessful. Mr. Burkitt, with several parishioners, subsequently 
 entered Mr. T.'s meeting-house when the people were assembled 
 for worship, and demanded to be heard. Mr. T. said he had no 
 objection, providing Mr, B. would allow him to reply. Upon this 
 Mr. B. discoursed for two hours on infant baptism, and then left 
 the place with his friends, without waiting for a reply. Soon 
 afterwards, Mr. B. published the substance of his harangue, and 
 called it, "An Argumentative and Practical Discourse on Infant 
 Baptism." Mr. Keach replied to this in a work entitled, "The 
 Rector Rectified." The hymn commencing, 
 
 "Jerusalem, my happy home," 
 
 was published by him in 1693, in a little work called, "A Help 
 and Guide to Christian Families." The hymn was not, however, 
 
38 J. gadsby's memoirs op 
 
 entirely his own, as portions of it are found in Daniel Burgess's, 
 John Mason's, and Thomas Shepherd's books. Perhaps Burkitt 
 put the whole together and made his own emendations and addi- 
 tions ; for it is certain that the hymn did not appear in its present 
 form until published by him in his "Help," 
 
 Burnham (Richard) was born in the year 1749, died Oct. 30th, 
 1810, aged 62, and was buried in Tottenham Court Chapel, Lon- 
 don. He was minister of Grafton Street Chapel, Soho. In the 
 preface to his hymns, he says, "I have labored much, in my spi- 
 ritual songs, to set forth, though I own it is in a feeble way, the 
 unequalled beauties and transcendent glories of a crucified Im- 
 manuel ; and have aimed to give, instrumentally, the greatest en- 
 couragement to the weakest of the Redeemer's praying family. 
 Your pastor is willing to own that he is the unworthiest of the 
 unworthy ; yet unworthy as he is, he humbly trusts, through rich 
 grace, he has in some measure found that the dear bosom of the 
 atoning Lamb is the abiding home of his immortal soul." He 
 died Oct. 30, 1810. 
 
 Cadogan (Hon. William Bromley) was born in 1751. He was 
 the son of Lord Cadogan, Master of the Mint, and in high favor 
 with the then government. Before God brought him down, he 
 was exceedingly bitter against the truth, and on being appointed 
 vicar of St. Giles's, Reading, dismissed his curate for holding 
 such views. Prayer was regularly and publicly offered up for him 
 in the house of Mrs. Talbot, the widow of the late vicar, which 
 for a time made him very indignant ; but the prayers were an- 
 swered, and his lofty looks brought down. He was made to see 
 and feel his state by nature, and to cry for mercy, which, in his 
 own time, God manifested unto him. He now wrote to his old 
 curate, whom he had dismissed, and assured him his house and 
 his heart were open to him. He had written above 300 sermons, 
 but he tried all these by fire, which they could not stand. He 
 preached a sermon on the death of Romaine. His family used 
 every means to prevail upon him to retrace his steps ; but all was 
 of no avail, for the Lord had laid fast hold of him. He died 
 Jan. 18, 1797. 
 
 Cennick (John). — As some account of Cennick, written by 
 himself, was published in the " Gospel Standard" for February 
 and March, 1850, and as I have also named him in my biography 
 of Lady Huntingdon, it will not be necessary for me to give many 
 particulars here. He was born at Reading about the year 1717, 
 and brought up in the Church of England. From the age of 15, 
 he was fond of plays, novels, romances, card-playing, and the 
 like; but, one day, to use his own words, " while walking hastily 
 in Cheapside, in London, the hand of the Lord touched me. I 
 felt at once," says he, " an uncommon fear and dejection; and 
 though all my days, since I could remember, had been bitter 
 through the strength of convictions and the fear of going to hell, 
 yet I knew not any weight before like this. The terrors of the 
 Lord came about me, and the pains of hell took hold on me." 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 39 
 
 This state of mind continued for two years, though he would 
 often cry, " Peace," to himself, and try to persuade himself that 
 he had not been so great a sinner as some others ; but his pangs 
 soon returned, and he was '< even buried in affliction." He fasted 
 long and ofcen; prayed, kneeling, nine times a day; and spent as 
 much time as possible in deeds of mortification and self-denial; 
 but at last found that salvation was not of works, as he could get 
 no relief. He was, "as if the sword of the Lord was dividing 
 asunder his joints and marrow, soul and spirit;" until one day, 
 while in the church, he heard the voice of Jesus, saying, " I am 
 thy salvation." His heart danced for joy, the fear of hell was 
 taken away, and he rejoiced in the assurance that Christ loved 
 him, and died for him. Some time after this, he became ac- 
 quainted with Whitefield, his heart having been knit to him 
 through reading one of his works. He then joined the Metho- 
 dists, as Whitefield, the Wesleys, and others were at that time 
 named; and was subsequently called to preach amongst them, that 
 is, in 1739 or 1740. When John Wesley published his sermon 
 against election, Cennick left him, and clave to Whitefield, and 
 afterwards assisted Whitefield in the erection of a new chapel at 
 Kingswood, Bristol, near the one of w T hich Wesley had deprived 
 Whitefield. Soon after Methodism was introduced into Ireland, 
 Cennick was preaching there one Christmas Bay, from, " Ye shall 
 find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes," when the mob chris- 
 tened him and his hearers "swaddlers," — a name of reproach 
 which they bear in Ireland to this day. In 1745, Cennick joined 
 the Moravians, and remained amongst them until his death, July 
 4, 1755. He caught cold on board ship, when returning from 
 Ireland, and this caused a brain fever. He was interred in the 
 Moravian cemetery, Chelsea. I have had in my possession five 
 books of Cennick's Hymns, namely, " Sacred Hymns for the Chil- 
 dren of God, Parts I., II., and III.," first published in 1741 and 
 1742; and " Sacred Hymns for the Use of Religious Societies, 
 Parts I. II. III.," published in 1743 — 5. Cennick, however, pub- 
 lished other hymns, with a copy of which I have not been able to 
 meet. Some of them were in the Moravian Hymn Book, 1754. 
 
 Clark (W. Augustus) was ordained by a Greek bishop, but 
 afterwards joined the Baptists, and became pastor of Redcross- 
 street, about 1773. In 17S0, in consequence of the part he took 
 with the mob against increasing the liberties of the Papists, he 
 had to leave, when he opened a room in Bunhill Row. There he 
 remained only three months, and then went to Ireland, and from 
 Ireland to America. He returned to England about 1797, and 
 went to Petticoat Lane; but that place being taken down, he 
 again went to Bunhill Row, being in 1801. I have no account of 
 his death. 
 
 Cole (Charles) was upwards of 54 years the pastor of the Bap- 
 tist church, at Whitchurch, in Hampshire. He was born at Wel- 
 low, in Somersetshire, May 20, 1733, and was deprived of both 
 his parents by the smallpox, when he was only six years of age. 
 
40 J. gadsby's memoirs of 
 
 Some relatives took young Charles under their care, and taught 
 him to weave broadcloth. Having learnt his business, he re- 
 moved to Freshford, near Bradford, Wilts. He was a young man 
 very attentive to his outward deportment ; regular in his attend- 
 ance at the parish church, a bigot to the Establishment, and, in 
 religious sentiment, a pharisee. But he did not long remain in a 
 state of ignorance. Hearing that Mr. Haines, a worthy minister, 
 then pastor of the Baptist church at Bradford, was about to ad- 
 minister the ordinance of baptism, and knowing that a neighbor 
 of his was a candidate, curiosity excited him to attend ; when im- 
 pressions were made on his mind too deep to be ever eradicated. 
 Still his prejudices in favor of the Established Church and 
 his attachment to her mode of worship were so strong, that, as 
 his way to the meeting-house led through the churchyard, he 
 could not prevail on himself to pass her doors ; so that, though 
 he repeatedly left home for the express purpose of going to hear 
 Mr. Haines, he forfeited his resolutions, and still attended the 
 established worship ; till at length his mind grew very uneasy, and 
 being, as he said, "starved out, he was obliged to go to seek re- 
 lief for his mind." He had not heard Mr. Haines long, before 
 he became convinced of the insufficiency of man's righteousness 
 in order to his justification before God, and of his own in parti- 
 cular. He continued in a state of distress for some time ; but on 
 New Year's Day, 1753, he heard Mr. Haines preach from Ezek. 
 xxxvi. 26, " A new heart will I give you." His soul found relief, 
 and from that time, he says, he possessed " a New Year's Gift in- 
 deed." In February, 1756, he was baptized, and became a mem- 
 ber of the church at Bradford. It being perceived that God had 
 bestowed on him gifts for the ministry, an opportunity was af- 
 forded him to exercise them with acceptance in two or three vil- 
 lages around ; and ultimately the Bradford church called him 
 publicly out to the sacred work, in the year 1758. In the order 
 of divine providence, a way was soon opened for his removal from 
 Bradford, to preach the gospel at "Whitchurch. With that people 
 he began his pastoral labors, and with them he finished them, 
 extending over a period of more than 54 years. His diffidence 
 was so great that it was with much reluctance he was prevailed 
 on to go at the first. In May, 1758, he preached his first sermon 
 to them, and tarried six weeks. They then invited him to supply 
 them a twelvemonth, with a view to the pastoral office; and at 
 the close of that period he was unanimously invited to take the 
 oversight of them in the Lord. The church, on his coming 
 amongst them, was in a very low state, being reduced to 13 mem- 
 bers. His ordination took place June 6, 1759. He had many 
 difficulties to contend with. A salary of less than twenty pounds 
 per annum was his prospect of support, which subjected him to 
 great domestic inconvenience ; yet such was his private worth, 
 that, when he became known, he had the satisfaction of number- 
 . ing among those who contributed privately to his necessities some 
 - who were not very friendly to the religion he professed. His mi- 
 nisterial labors were very considerable. For several years ha 
 preached weekly in the neighboring villages of Bourne and Long- 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 41 
 
 parish. In the latter he met with much opposition. One cir- 
 cumstance was very remarkable. Mr. Cole's preaching at Long- 
 parish had excited the malevolence of one farmer Brown, who 
 was determined to wreak his vengeance on this servant of Christ. 
 Knowing the road Mr. Cole would pass on his return home from 
 preaching, he posted himself on the road, having provided him- 
 self with a carter's whip as the instrument of his vengeance* 
 About the time .Air. Cole usually passed, a persou somewhat re- 
 sembling him came that road ; and as it was dark, farmer Brown 
 mistook him for Mr. Cole, and with the greatest rage began to 
 lay on with his carter's whip, exclaiming at the same time, " I'll 
 give it thee., coming to Longparish to preach ; I'll make thee re- 
 member coming here to preach." The gentleman thus assaulted 
 cried out, "I never did preach at Longparish; but I shall soon 
 preach to thee." This person proved to be a most respectable 
 solicitor of Andover, the father of the celebrated Alderman 
 Combe, M.P. for the City of London. He was as good as his 
 word, for he preached such a sermon to farmer Brown as made a 
 very great impression on him. He had to pay a considerable sum 
 for his night's sport, and thus became no small sport to others. 
 The Lord abundantly blessed Cole's labors, so that the church 
 was enlarged more than fourfold before his death. He passed 
 through a series of years with unspotted reputation. In Novem- 
 ber, 1813, he was seized with paralysis, which deprived him of 
 sight and the powers of recollection, and greatly shook his other- 
 wise feeble tabernacle. Notwithstanding these afflictions, he dis- 
 covered much eagerness to converse on the best of subjects. He 
 assured a friend that he loved his Master and his service; that 
 he had been many times weary in it, but was never weary of it. 
 On being reminded of the faithfulness of God and the ail-suffi- 
 ciency of the atonement, he replied, u Yes, there is firm footing 
 there; firm footing for a poor sinner to stand upon." Shortly 
 afterwards he had a second attack, which, for a season left him 
 apparently lifeless. On recovering his speech, he said, "lam- 
 dying, but the sting of death is taken away. I am not afraid to 
 die; all my doubts and fears are gone. I am very happy. I am 
 going to Jesus. My funeral text," said he, " is, Christ is all and 
 in all. And when the funeral sermon is preached, let three hymns 
 be sung that have most of Christ in them." He continued full 
 of enjoyment, and expressed his confidence in the Lord, till to- 
 wards the close of the day, when the exhaustion of nature pre- 
 vented his speaking. He departed to his rest Dec. 3, 1813, in 
 the 81st year of his age. The Preface to his Hymns is dated .May 
 20, 1789, and I find the book advertised in Rippon's Baptist Re- 
 gister, Vol. I., 1700. It is entitled, " A Threefold Alphabet of 
 New Hymns." 
 
 Cougiilan (Lawrence) was a member of the Church of Eng- 
 land, but joined Lady Huntingdon. In 1773, Lady H. com- 
 menced building a large chapel at Wapping, London. Coughlan 
 told the trustees that he wos to be the stated minister. This they 
 objected to, Toplady's advice was asked by Lady H., and he en- 
 
42 j. gadsby's memoirs op 
 
 tirely discountenanced Coughlan's proceedings, so that Coughlan 
 was overruled. The hymn commencing, 
 
 " Sweet the moments rich in blessing," 
 originally published by Allen and Batty, as I have already men- 
 tioned, was altered by Coughlan, in 1779, as it is now generally 
 sung. 
 
 Cowper (William) was born at Berkhampstead, Hertfordshire, 
 Nov. 15, 1731. In his autobiography he says, "I cannot recol- 
 lect that, until I was in my 32nd year, I had ever any serious im- 
 pressions of a religious kind, or at all bethought myself of the 
 things of my salvation, except in two or three instances. " At 10 
 years old he was sent to the Westminster School, where, he says, 
 he learnt Latin and Greek at the expense of knowledge much 
 more important. "That I may do justice to the place of my edu- 
 cation, I must relate one mark of religious discipline, which, in 
 my time, was observed at Westminster ; I mean the pains which 
 Dr. Nicholls took to prepare us for confirmation. The old man 
 acquitted himself of this duty like one who had a deep sense of 
 its importance ; and I believe most of us were struck by his man- 
 ner and affected by his exhortation. Then, for the first time, I 
 attempted to pray in secret ; but, being little accustomed to that 
 exercise of the heart, and having very childish notions of religion, 
 I found it a difficult and painful task, and was even then fright- 
 ened at my own insensibility. This difficulty, though it did not 
 subdue my good purposes till the ceremony of confirmation was 
 passed, soon after entirely conquered them. I relapsed into a 
 total forgetfulness of God, with all the disadvantages of being 
 the more hardened, for being softened to no purpose. At 12 
 or 13 I was seized with . the smallpox. I mention this only to 
 show that, at that early age, my heart was become proof against 
 the ordinary means a gracious God employs for our chastisement. 
 Though I was severely handled by this disease, and in imminent 
 danger, yet, neither in the course of it, nor during my recovery, 
 had I any sentiments of contrition, any thought of God or eter- 
 nity. On the contrary, I was scarcely raised from the bed of pain 
 and sickness before the emotions of sin became more violent than 
 ever, and the devil seemed rather to have gained than lost an ad- 
 vantage over me ; so readily did I admit his suggestions, and so 
 passive was I under them. By this time I became such an adept 
 in the infernal art of lying, that I was seldom guilty of a fault 
 for which I could not invent an apology capable of deceiving the 
 wisest. These, I know, are called school-boys' tricks ; but a total 
 depravity of principle, and the work of the father of lies, are uni- 
 versally at the bottom of them. At the age of 18, being tole- 
 rably well furnished with grammatical knowledge, but as ignorant 
 of all kinds of religion as the satchel at my back, I was taken 
 from Westminster; and, having spent about nine months at home, 
 
 was sent to acquire the practice of the law with an attorney." 
 
 At 21, he took possession of a set of chambers in the Temple ; but, 
 soon after his settlement there, was struck with such a dejection 
 
 
HYMN- WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 43 
 
 of spirits that none but those who have felt the same can have 
 the least conception of. Day and night he was upon the rack, 
 lying down in horror and rising up in despair. He soon lost all 
 relish for those studies to which he had before been so much at- 
 tached; they had now no longer any charms for him. He had 
 need of something more salutary than amusement, but had no 
 one to direct him where to find it. At length he met with Her- 
 bert's Poems, and though he did not find in them what he wanted 
 — a cure for his malady, yet his mind never seemed so much 
 relieved as while he was reading them. In this state he con- 
 tinued for nearly a year, when, having experienced the inefficacy 
 of all human means, he was at length driven to God in prayer. 
 "Such," says he, "is the rank our Redeemer holds in our 
 esteem, that we never resort to him but in the last instance, 
 when all creatures have failed to succor us. My hard heart was 
 at length softened and my stubborn knees taught to bow." He 
 went w r ith some friends to Southampton, where he spent several 
 months. Soon after their arrival, they walked about two miles 
 from the town, and sat clown upon an eminence, when, on a 
 sudden, it was as if another sun had been kindled in the heavens 
 on purpose to dispel his sorrow. The weight of his misery was 
 taken off, and his heart became light and joyful in a moment. 
 He could have wept with transport had he been alone. But Satan 
 and his wicked heart soon persuaded him that he was indebted 
 for his deliverance to nothing but a change of season and scene. 
 "By this means the blessing was turned into a poison, teaching 
 me to conclude that nothing but a continued circle of diversion 
 and indulgence of appetite could secure me from a relapse." Upon 
 this hellish principle, away went all thoughts of religion and of 
 dependence upon God. Having spent about 12 years in the 
 Temple, in an uninterrupted course of sinful indulgence, he ob- 
 tained at length so complete a victory over his conscience, that 
 all remonstrances from that quarter were in vain. Though at this 
 time little better than an infidel, yet, w T hen half intoxicated, he 
 was often employed in vindicating the truth of Scripture, w T hile 
 in the very act of rebellion against its dictates. At one time he 
 went so far as to assert he would willingly have his right hand 
 cut off, so that he might but be enabled to live according to the 
 gospel. This inconsistency of his was visible to others as well as 
 to himself, insomuch that a deistical friend of his cut short the 
 matter by alleging that, if what he said were true, he was cer- 
 tainly damned by his own choosing. At length he appears to 
 have spent nearly all his money, and begun to be apprehensive 
 of want. Through the influence of a relative, he was appointed 
 Clerk of the Journals of the House of Lords. He acknowledges 
 that he was totally unfit for the office, and yet he labored hard 
 to make himself master of the duties. But God had designed 
 other things for him. "To this dilemma," he says, "was I re- 
 duced, either to keep possession of the office to the last extremity, 
 and by so doing expose myself to a public rejection for inefficiency, 
 or else to fling it up at once, and by this means to run the hazard 
 of ruining my benefactor's right of appointment, by bringing his 
 
44: j. gadsby's memoirs of 
 
 discretion into question. In this situation, such a fit of passion 
 has sometimes seized me that I have cried out aloud, and cursed 
 the hour of my birth, lifting up my eyes to heaven at the same 
 time, not as a suppliant, but in the hellish spirit of rancorous 
 reproach and blasphemy against my Maker. I made one effort 
 of the devotional kind ; for, having found a prayer, or two in 
 that repository of self-righteousness and pharisaical lumber, ' The 
 Whole Duty of Man,' I said them a few nights, but soon laid 
 them aside." He now began to look upon madness as the only 
 chance remaining, and earnestly wished for it, that he might be 
 excused from appearing at the Bar of the House of Lords. The 
 day of decision drew near, and then came the great temptation — 
 the dark and hellish purpose of self-murder. He thought perhaps 
 there was no God; or the Scriptures might be false, and if so, 
 God had nowhere forbidden suicide. At any rate, his misery, 
 even in hell itself, he thought, would be more supportable. 
 Accordingly, in Nov., 1763, he purchased half an ounce of lauda- 
 num, resolving to use it as soon as he was convinced there was 
 no other way of escape. He went into the fields, to find a house 
 or a ditch in which to die; but his mind was changed. He 
 thought drowning would be better. He took a coach to the 
 Tower Wharf, intending to throw himself into the Thames from 
 the Custom-house Quay, but the water was low, and there was a 
 porter seated upon some goods. He returned to the coach, and 
 put up the shutters. Twenty times had he the vial to his mouth, 
 distracted between the desire of death and the dread of it, and 
 even at the time it seemed as if an invisible hand swayed the 
 bottle downwards. A convulsive agitation seemed to deprive 
 him of the use of his limbs. He reached the Temple, and pre- 
 pared himself for the last scene. He poured the laudanum into 
 a small basin, set it on a chair by the bedside, half undressed 
 himself, lay down between the blankets, and, shuddering with 
 horror, reached forth his hands towards the basin, when the 
 fingers of both his hands became so closely contracted, as if bound 
 with a cord, that they became entirely useless. He could indeed 
 have guided the basin to his mouth with his hands, as his arms 
 were not at all affected, but the circumstance struck him with 
 wonder, and he lay down to muse upon it, when he heard his 
 laundress's husband coming in, which frustrated his design for 
 that time. The next morning was to place him at the Bar of the 
 House, and he was determined not to see it. He went to bed 
 and slept till 3 o'clock, when, taking his penknife, he endeavored 
 to force it into his heart, but it would not penetrate. The clock 
 struck 7, and instantly it occurred to him that there was no time 
 to be lost. He took his garter, and, forming a noose, fixed it 
 about his neck, but twice did the iron and framework of the bed 
 break under his weight. The third effort was more likely to 
 succeed. He fastened the garter to the top of the door, which 
 W T as a very high one, and, pushing away the chair, hung at his 
 whole length. While he hung, he heard a voice say distinctly, 
 " 'Tis over !" but it did not at all alarm him nor affect his resolu- 
 tion. He hung so long, that he lost all sense and consciousness 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 45 
 
 of existence. When he came to himself again, he thought him- 
 self in hell. The sound of his own groans was all that he heard. 
 The garter had broken, and he was lying on his face. The stag 
 nation of blood under one eye, and a red circle round his neck, 
 showed plainly that he had been on the brink of eternity. His 
 laundress must have passed the door while he was hanging on it, 
 as she was in the adjoining room. On hearing him fall, she went 
 into his bedroom to ask him if he were not well, and said she 
 feared he had been in a lit. lie sent for his relative, and related 
 to him the whole affair. His words were, " My dear Mr. Cowper, 
 you terrify me. To be sure, you cannot hold the office at this 
 rate." And thus ended his connexion with the Parliament Office. 
 " To this moment," he says, " I had felt no concern of a spiritual 
 kind. Ignorant of original sin, and insensible of the guilt of 
 actual transgression, I understood neither the law nor the gospel. 
 I was as much unacquainted with Christ in all his saving offices 
 as if his blessed name had never reached me. But now a new 
 scene opened upon me. Conviction of sin took place, especially 
 of that just committed. The meanness of it, and its atrocious 
 nature, were exhibited to me in colors so inconceivably strong, 
 that I despised myself with a contempt not to be imagined or 
 expressed, for having attempted it. This sense of it secured me 
 from the repetition of a crime which I could not now reflect on 
 without abhorrence. Before I arose from bed, it was suggested 
 to me that there was nothing wanted but murder to fill up the 
 measure of my iniquities; and that, though I had failed in my 
 design, yet I had all the guilt of that crime to answer for. A sense 
 of God's wrath, and a deep despair of escaping it, instantly suc- 
 ceeded. The fear of death became much more prevalent in me 
 now than even the desire of death had been. My sins were now 
 set in array before me. I began to see and feel that I had lived 
 without God in the world. As I walked to and fro in my cham- 
 bers, I said within myself, ' There was never so abandoned a 
 wretch — so great a sinner!' All my worldly sorrows seemed now 
 as if they had never been; the terrors of my mind, which suc- 
 ceeded them, seemed so great, and so much more afflicting. One 
 moment I thought myself shut out from mercy by one chapter, 
 and the next by another. The sword of the Spirit seemed to 
 guard the tree of life from my touch, and to flame against me in 
 every avenue by which I attempted to approach it." If for a 
 moment a book or a companion turned away his attention from 
 himself, a flash from hell seemed to be thrown into his mind, and 
 he said within himself, " What are these things to me who am 
 damned V He feared he had committed the unpardonable sin, 
 and no argument that could be used in extenuation of his guilt 
 could gain a moment's admission. Life appeared more desirable 
 than death, only because it was a barrier between him and ever- 
 lasting burnings. lie took his Prayer Book and endeavored to 
 pray out of it, but immediately experienced the impossibility of 
 drawing nigh to God unless God first drew nigh to him; and, with 
 the most rooted convict : on, he gave himself up to despair. " I felt 
 a sense of burning in my heart, like that of real tire, and con- 
 
46 J. gadsby's memoirs of 
 
 eluded it was an earnest of those eternal flames which would 
 soon receive me. I laid myself down, howling with horror, while 
 my knees smote against each other. In this condition my brother 
 found me, and the first words I spoke were, ' brother, I am 
 damned ! Think of eternity, and think what it is to be damned !' " 
 At length he was visited by Martin Madan, who spoke to him of 
 sin and salvation, which seemed to cause hope to spring up. But 
 he says, "What I had experienced was but the beginning of 
 sorrows, and a long train of still greater terrors was at hand. I 
 slept my usual three hours well, and then awoke with ten times 
 stronger an alienation from God than ever. Satan plied me close 
 with horrible visions, and more horrible voices. My ears rang 
 with the sound of torments that seemed to await me. Then did 
 ' the pains of hell get hold of me,' and before daybreak the very 
 * sorrows of death encompassed me.' A* numbness seized the 
 extremities of my body, and life seemed to retreat before it. My 
 hands and feet became cold and stiff; a cold sweat stood upon 
 my forehead ; my heart seemed at every pulse to beat its last, and 
 my soul to cling to my lips as on the very brink of departure. 
 No convicted criminal ever feared death more or was more assured 
 of dying. At 11 o'clock my brother called upon me, and in about 
 an hour after his arrival, that distemper of mind I had wished for 
 so ardently actually seized me. While I traversed the apartment 
 in the most horrible dismay of soul, expecting every moment that 
 the earth would open and swallow me up, my conscience scaring 
 me, the avenger of blood pursuing me, and the city of refuge out 
 of reach and out of fight, a strange and horrible darkness fell 
 upon me. If it were possible that a heavy blow could light upon 
 the brain without touching the skull, such was the sensation I 
 felt. I clapped my hand to my forehead, and cried aloud through 
 the pain it gave me. At every stroke my thoughts and expres- 
 sions became more wild and indistinct; all that remained to me clear 
 
 was the sense of sin and the expectation of punishment." It 
 
 was now found necessary to confine him in a lunatic asylum, where 
 he remained for about eight months. " All that passed," he says, 
 " during these eight months, was conviction of sin and despair of 
 mercy." At one time he seemed even to regret that he had not 
 given every scope to his wicked appetite, and even envied those 
 who, being departed, had the consolation to reflect that they had 
 well earned their miserable inheritance. Soon after his confine- 
 ment, he threw aside his Bible, as a book in which he had no 
 interest or portion. But now the happy period which was to 
 shake off his fetters had arrived. He flung himself into a chair, 
 and, seeing a Bible, ventured to open it. The first verse he saw 
 was Rom. iii. 25. The full beams of the Sun of Righteousness 
 immediately shone upon him. He saw the sufficiency of Christ's 
 atonement, and his pardon sealed in his blood. He thought he 
 must have died with gratitude and joy. His eyes were filled with 
 tears, and his voice was choked with transport. For many suc- 
 ceeding weeks tears were ready to flow if he did but speak of the 
 gospel, or mention the name of Jesus. Rejoicing day and night 
 was his employment. He was too happy to sleep much, and 
 
 
HYMN- WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 47 
 
 thought it was lost time that was spent in slumber. "My 
 doctor," he says, " ever watchful and apprehensive for my wel- 
 fare, was now alarmed, lest the sudden transition from despair to 
 joy should terminate in a fatal phrensy. But the Lord ' was my 
 strength and my song,' and was t become my salvation.' I said, 
 1 I shall not die, but live and declare the works of the Lord ; he 
 has chastened me, but not given me over unto death.' ' give 
 thanks unto the Lord, for his mercy endureth for ever.' In a 
 short time Dr. Cotton became satisfied, and acquiesced with the 
 soundness of my cure; and much sweet communion I had with 
 him concerning the things of our salvation. He visited me every 
 morning while I staid with him, which was twelve months after 
 my recovery. The gospel was the delightful theme of our con- 
 versation. No trial has befallen me since, but what might be 
 expected in a state of warfare. Satan indeed has changed his 
 battery. Before my conversion, sensual gratification was the 
 warfare with which he sought to destroy me. Being of a natu- 
 rally easy, quiet disposition, I was seldom tempted to anger, yet 
 that passion it is which now gives me the most disturbance, and 
 occasions the sharpest conflicts. But Jesus being my strength, I 
 fight against it; and if I am not conqueror, I am not overcome." 
 In 1765 he removed to Huntingdon, and in 1767 to Olney, where 
 he contracted a close friendship with John Newton. Here it was 
 that the Hymns by Newton and Cowper, called Olney Hymns, 
 were written. When Newton removed to London, Cowper wrote, 
 
 " The vicarage-house became a melancholy object as soon as Mrs. 
 Newton had left it ; when you left it, it became more melancholy ; now 
 it is actually occupied by another family, I cannot even look at it with- 
 out being shocked. As I walked in the garden last evening, I saw the 
 smoke issue from the study chimney, and said to myself, ' That used 
 to be a sign that Mr. Newton was there ; but it is so no longer. The 
 walls of the house know nothing of the chancre that has taken place; 
 the bolt of the chamber door sounds just as it used to do; and when 
 
 Mr. P goes up stairs, for aught I now or ever shall know, the fall 
 
 of his foot can hardly perhaps be distinguished from that of Mr. New- 
 ton. But Mr. Newton's foot will never be heard upon that staircase 
 again.' These reflections, and such as these, occurred to me on this 
 occasion. If I were in a condition to leave Olney, I certainly would 
 not stay in it. It is no attachment to the place that binds me here, 
 but an unfitness for every other. I lived in it once, but now I am 
 buried in it, and have no business in the world outside my sepulchre. 
 My appearance would startle them, and theirs would be shocking to 
 me." 
 
 Cowper subsequently endured many severe trials, but he entered 
 into his rest April 25, 1800. Early in the Friday morning a 
 decided alteration for the worse was perceived to have taken place. 
 A deadly change appeared in his countenance. In this insensible 
 state he remained till a few minutes before five in the afternoon, 
 when he gently, and without the slightest apparent pain, ceased 
 to breathe, and his happy spirit escaped from that body in which, 
 amidst the thickest gloom of darkness, it had so long been im- 
 prisoned, and took its flight to the regions of perfect purity and 
 bliss. In a manner so mild and gentle did death make its ap- 
 
48 J. gadsby's memoirs of 
 
 proach, that though his kinsman, his medical attendant, and three 
 others were standing at the foot of the bed, with their eyes fixed 
 upon his dying countenance, neither of them could determine 
 the precise moment of his departure. A short time previously 
 the king, George III., had granted him a pension of £300 a year, 
 but it came too late. Maunder, in his " Biographical Treasury," 
 the most bigoted biographical work I ever read, says, " Cowper 
 fell into a terrible state of nervous and mental debility, but was 
 restored by the skill and humanity of Dr. Cotton." How different 
 
 is this from Cowper's own account, as given above ! It does not 
 
 appear that Cowper ever stood up to preach. He says, 
 
 " I have had many anxious thoughts about taking orders, and I be- 
 lieve every new convert is apt to think himself called upon for that 
 purpose; but it has pleased God, by means which there is no need to 
 particularise, to give me full satisfaction as to the propriety of declin- 
 ing it -"""indeed, they who have the least idea of what I have suffered 
 from the dread of public exhibitions, will readily excuse my never 
 attempting them hereafter. In the mean time, if it please the Al- 
 mighty, I may be an instrument of turning many to the truth, in a 
 private way, and hope that my endeavors, in this way, have not been 
 entirely unsuccessful. Had I the zeal of a Moses, I should want an 
 Aaron to be my spokesman." 
 
 The following may not be altogether without interest or use. It 
 is extracted from one of Cowper's letters : 
 
 " You never said a better thing than when you assured Mr. oi 
 
 the expedience of a gift of bedding to the poor of Olney. There is no 
 one article of this world's comfort with which they are more unprovided. 
 When a poor woman, and an honest one, whom we know, carried home 
 two pairs of blankets, a pair for herself and husband, and a pair for six 
 children, as soon as the children saw them, they jumped out of their 
 straw, caught them in their arms, kissed and blessed them, and danced 
 for joy. An old woman, a very old one, the first night she found her- 
 self so comfortably covered, could not sleep a wink, being kept awake 
 by the contrary emotions of transport on the one hand, and fear of not 
 being thankful enough on the other." 
 
 Oowper's hymns are well known. The hymn commencing, 
 <; Breathe from the gentle south, Lord !*' 
 
 has been usually ascribed to Newton ; but Seuthey, in his edition 
 of Cowper's works, says, "This hymn is here restored to him 
 (Cowper) on the authority of Mrs. Johnson, the widow of his ex- 
 cellent kinsman." And I believe there is no doubt that it is 
 Cowper's, though at one time I doubted it. The omission of the 
 " C." must have been an error of the printer's. The hymn com- 
 mencing, 
 
 " C od moves in a mysterious way," 
 
 is, perhaps, one of Cowper's best. Some say it was written while 
 taking a solitary walk in a field, feeling depression coming upon 
 him ; and others say it was written one night when he had ordered 
 a man to drive him to a certain place by a river that he might 
 drown himself; but as the man could not find the spot, though 
 
HYMN-WRITEKS AND COMPILERS. 49 
 
 he had always been well acquainted with it, Cowper saw the Lord's 
 hand in it, and the snare was broken. I believe the former to be 
 the true version. 
 
 De Courcy (Richard) was born in Ireland in 1743 or 1744. 
 He was educated at Trinity College, Dublin. As the Irish bishops 
 would not ordain him, probably because of his Calvinistic senti- 
 ments, he left Ireland, and came to England, when he imme- 
 diately waited upon Whitefield. On being introduced, White- 
 field took off his cap, and, showing De Courcy a scar on his head, 
 said, " I got this wound in your country for preaching Christ;" 
 alluding to a time when he was once nearly stoned to death by 
 the Papists. Through the influence of Lady Huntingdon, De 
 Courcy was ordained by the Bishop of Lichfield, when lie joined 
 her ladyship, and preached in many of her chapels. Multitudes 
 flocked to hear him, notwithstanding that the Arminians cau- 
 tioned the people against him. At the commencement of his 
 career, he met with a temptation common to young ministers : 
 " I have been tempted," said he, " strongly to believe that, after 
 I had preached a few sermons, my strength would be quite ex- 
 hausted, and that I should preach no more;" but he soon ob- 
 tained relief on this head; for he afterwards adds, " "With regard 
 to my fears of being exhausted after a few sermons, the Lord has 
 given me satisfaction in that particular ; for he has discovered to 
 me the super-excellency of that wonderful book, the Bible, above 
 all other books ; not only for its purity, but also for the variety 
 of its matter. I find it a mine replete w T ith the richest treasures ; 
 and that the deeper I penetrate into it by faith and prayer, the 
 greater riches are still discoverable. This book, he showed me, 
 was to be the central point of all my divinity; and to be searched 
 with unwearied diligence, if I meant to be a good householder, 
 bringing out of my treasure things new and old." He afterwards 
 left Lady II., and joined Lady Glenorchy,in Edinburgh. In 1770, he 
 obtained the curacy of Shawbury, near Hawkstone, in Shropshire, 
 and remained there about four years; when he was appointed Vicar 
 of Aldwinkle, Shrewsbury, by the Lord Chancellor, (Lord Dart- 
 mouth,) which caused a great commotion ; and a gentleman in the 
 parish wrote a satirical poem about him, entitled, " St. Alkmond's 
 Ghost ;" but he was not to be frightened away by a ghost of that 
 sort; but continued preaching " Salvation by free grace, through 
 faith." In 1770, while absent from his parish, many of his 
 hearers went to hear the Baptist minister, and, finding more food 
 for their souls, though De Courcy was a strong advocate for the 
 doctrines of grace, did not return to the church. This caused 
 De Courcy to publish "A Letter to a Baptist Minister," on bap- 
 tism, to which a reply was issued in a little tract, entitled, "Dip- 
 ping versus Sprinkling; or, the Good Vicar in a Bad Mood. By 
 John the Dipper." This reply was said to have been written by 
 Mr. B. Francis. De Courcy's work. " Christ Crucified," was writ- 
 ten against the Socinian Dr. Priestley, and is still unanswerable. 
 On the fast-day which was kept in 1803, De Courcy took a 
 cold ; which brought a return of his disorder in the chest. The 
 
50 j. gadsby's memoirs of 
 
 following morning, being much worse, a physician was sent for. 
 "I am almost spent," said he; "it is a hard struggle, but it will 
 soon be over. I shall not recover; but Christ is mine. He is 
 my foundation; he is the Rock I build upon." When the doctor 
 had seen him, he immediately left the room for some medicine, 
 when De Courcy exclaimed, "Thanks be to God for my salva- 
 tion," and immediately expired. This was Nov. 4th, 1803. 
 He wrote a few poems ; and it is believed that the hymn, 
 
 " Jesus, at thy command," 
 
 was written by him on one occasion when Whitefield was about to 
 leave for America, though some persons think it was written by 
 Whitefield, and others by Toplady. It did not appear in De 
 Courcy 's first edition, (1775,) but in a third edition, in which 
 203 hymns were added, most of them by other authors ; and as 
 Toplady published it in his Selection in 1776, before De Courcy 
 issued his third edition, I incline to the opinion that it was 
 not De Courcy 's, but Toplady 's. The Editor of the " Gospel 
 Magazine " says of De C, "Gifted with all the graces of oratory, 
 and with a mind stored with divine truth and experience, he 
 boldly stood forward as a champion for the gospel, equipped with 
 the sword of the Spirit and the word of God. He imitated the 
 cherubim in the Garden of Eden, by turning the sword of the 
 law every way, to prohibit the self-righteous from access to the 
 tree of life on the footing of their own works. His weapon was 
 defensive and offensive, for he assaulted error and defended 
 truth." 
 
 Doddridge (Philip) was born in London, in June, 1702. At 
 his birth he showed so little sign of life that he was laid aside as 
 dead ; but one of the attendants, thinking she perceived some 
 motion or breath, took that necessaiy care of him which was the 
 means of preserving his life. His father died in 1715, about which 
 time Philip was removed to a private school at St. Alban's. The 
 person who had the management of his late father's affairs acted 
 so imprudently as to waste all the property, and had it not been 
 for a Mr. Clark, dissenting minister at St. Alban's, who stood as a 
 father to him, Philip must have been thrown into want. In 1718 
 he left the school at St. Alban's, when he had an offer from the 
 Duchess of Bedford that, if he would go to one of the Univer- 
 sities, and be educated as a minister for the Church of England, 
 she would defray the expense of his education, and if she should 
 live until be had taken orders, would provide for him in the church. 
 This, however, he declined, as he could not satisfy his conscience 
 so as to comply with the forms of the church. Mr. Clark then 
 took him under his care, and a way was thus opened for him to 
 enter into the ministry. After having been some time under Mr # 
 Jennings, who kept an academy at Kibworth, and subsequently at 
 Hinckley, Doddridge entered on the ministry in 1722. He preached 
 his first sermon at Hinckley from 1 Cor. xvi. 22. The following 
 year he settled at Kibworth. In 1729 he removed to North- 
 ampton, succeeding a "minister named Tingey. His learning is 
 said to have been very great. " Though others might exceed him 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 51 
 
 in their acquaintance with antiquity or their skill in the languages, 
 yet, in the extent of his learning, and the variety of useful, im- 
 portant knowledge he had acquired, he was surpassed by very 
 few." I am bound to confess, however, that so fax as his life has 
 been given by his biographer, Mr. Job Orton, I can trace very little 
 of that learning which can be alone imparted by the Holy Spirit. 
 Nearly the whole book is taken up with his exemplary piety, his 
 covenants with God, his zeal, his resolves, his doing good, and 
 all such Arminian trash. When allowed by Orton to speak in his 
 own words we find more life. To a friend he writes, "I have 
 great need of using the publican's prayer, 'God be merciful to me 
 a sinner,' to me an unprofitable servant, who have deserved long 
 since to have been cast out cf his family. You talk of my strength 
 and usefulness. Alas ! I am weak and unstable as water. My 
 frequent deadness and coldness in religion sometimes press me 
 down to the dust; and, methinks, it is best when it does so." 
 He was once conversing on the way in which Christians often died, 
 when he said I wish that my last words may be these : 
 
 " A guilty, weak, and helpless worm, 
 On thy kind arms I fall; 
 Be thou my strength and righteousness, 
 My Jesus and my All." 
 
 In Dec, 1750, he went to St. Alban's to preach the funeral sermon 
 of his old friend and benefactor, Dr. Clark. In that journey he 
 contracted a cold, which did not leave him throughout the winter. 
 In the spring of 1751, it considerably abated, but returning again 
 with great violence in the summer, he had to give up preaching, 
 and removed to Bristol, to try the waters there ; but his health 
 was evidently rapidly declining. When his friends reminded 
 him of his fidelity, diligence, and zeal in his Master's service, he 
 used to reply, " I am nothing ; all is to be ascribed to the free grace 
 of God." In Sept. he left Bristol for Lisbon, where he arrived 
 on the 13th of October, and on the 26th (old style) breathed his 
 last. On his body being opened, his lungs were found in so 
 ulcerated a state that it appeared wonderful to the doctor that 
 he had been able to speak so long. It was, I think, a cruel thing 
 to send him from England under such circumstances. When a 
 consumptive person's friends are favored with wisdom to remove 
 him or her, in the early stages of the disease, to a more congenial 
 climate, it often, with God's blessing, tends to the checking of 
 the malady ; but, as a physician in Malta once said to me, it is 
 unpardonable in the doctor to keep their patients in England 
 until their lungs are all but gone, and then to send them abroad 
 to die. D.'s body was interred in the burying-ground belonging to 
 the British factory at Lisbon. That Doddridge's real feelings 
 should have been suppressed will hardly be wondered at, when it 
 is known that his biographer, Job Orton, charged even the mild 
 Lady Huntingdon with Antinqmianism. Doddridge wrote many 
 works. 
 
 Dracup (John). The earliest notice I can find of this author is 
 his first settlement at Steep Laue, Yorkshire, where he continued 
 
52 j. gadsby's memoirs op 
 
 for 17 years. At this time he was a Pedobaptist. What led him 
 to change his sentiments on the subject of baptism, I know not; 
 but he seems to have exercised his ministry chiefly, if not entirely, 
 among those who practised the baptism of believers only. When, 
 therefore, he left Steep Lane, it was to settle at Rodhillena, near 
 Todmorden. Here he remained a few years, but with little success; 
 so that the church, on his removal, dissolved itself, and its mem- 
 bers sought fellowship at Hebden Bridge and elsewhere. In 1781 
 Mr. D. was invited to succeed Mr. Abraham Greenwood, as pastor 
 of the infant church at Rochdale, in Lancashire ; but in 1783 he 
 deemed it desirable to resign his charge, in consequence of the 
 little encouragement he had in his ministry. In the course of the 
 next year, his old friends at Steep Lane invited him to resume his 
 oversight of them in the Lord. His answer was, "that he would 
 return, and live and die with the people." He was now a Bap- 
 tist. His re-settlement seems to have been cordial and happy, and 
 his pastorate extended over 11 years. Thus he spent 28 years in 
 all with this little church. He died May 28th, 1795, and was 
 interred in the chapel yard. His last sermon was from Eccles. 
 viii. 8, admonitory to the people of his charge, and prophetic 
 of his own end. He published a small volume of hymns in 1787, 
 amongst which I find, 
 
 "Free grace to every heaven-bom soul." 
 
 This hymn was inserted by Coughlan, in his selection in 1779, 
 and subsequently in Lady Huntingdon's; so that Mr. D. was pro- 
 bably in some way connected with the Calvinistic Methodists of 
 that time, and wrote the hymn for them. 
 
 Elliott (R., A.B.) was born at Kingsbridge, Devonshire. He 
 was admitted into Benett College, Cambridge, 1746. He soon 
 afterwards began to favor the Methodists, and ultimately settled 
 in London as a dissenting minister. He wrote many works, one 
 of which was entitled, "Sin Destroyed and the Sinner Saved; or 
 Justification by Imputed Righteousness, a Doctrine superior to all 
 others for promoting Holiness in Life," &c. He died 1788. The 
 hymn, 
 
 " Prepare me, gracious God," 
 
 usually ascribed to Toplady, was written by Elliott, in 1761, and 
 altered by Toplady in 1766. (See p. 154.) 
 
 Ekskine (Ralph) was born at Monilaws, Northumberland, 
 March 15th, 1685. He was educated with his brother Ebenezer in 
 the University at Edinburgh, and took the degree of M.A. in 
 1704. He was very popular, but did not obtain a settlement in 
 the Scotch Church until 1711, when he was ordained minister at 
 Dunfermline. He was a great advocate for the truth, as his ser- 
 mons prove. In 1734, he joined the seceders from the Scotch 
 Church, and was deposed by the General Assembly. His hearers 
 built a meeting house for him, which was well attended to his 
 death, Nov. 6th, 1752. No minister in Scotland was ever more 
 esteemed. He was once going in a careless manner to preach at 
 Iibberton, near Edinburgh, when he met a poor person, to whom, 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 53 
 
 without being asked, he gave alms. The poor man was much 
 affected at such an unexpected act of kindness, and earnestly 
 thanked Mr. E. ; when immediately these words came to Mr. 
 E.'s mind : "lam found of them that sought me not." " Ah I" 
 he said, " what a mercy it will be if, notwithstanding my care- 
 lessness and neglect of prayer, the Lord should be found of me 
 this morning !" This reflection aroused him into prayer for the 
 Lord's gracious presence ; and he obtained it in a remarkable 
 manner. Erskine's Gospel Sonnets are well known. Several of 
 them are not original, however, being varied from Dr. Watts. 
 Take this as an instance : 
 
 " Oft earth, and hell, and sin have strove, 
 To rend my soul from God ; 
 But everlasting is his love, 
 
 Seal'cl with his Darling's blood. 
 
 The oath and promise of the Lord 
 
 Join to confirm his grace ; 
 Eternal pow'r performs the word, 
 
 And brings the strong solace. 
 
 Amidst temptations sharp and strong, 
 
 I to this refuge flee ; 
 Hope is my anchor, firm and strong, i 
 
 When storms enrage the sea. 
 
 The gospel bears my spirit up ; 
 
 The never-changing God 
 Lays for my triple ground of hope. 
 
 The word, the oath, the blood." 
 
 The reader will readily recognise Dr. Watts in the above. The 
 last two lines, as altered by Erskine, arc particularly touching. 
 
 Fawcett (Joiix) w r as born at Lidget Green, near Bradford, 
 Yorkshire, Jan. 6th, (old style, that is, now 18th,) 1739. He was 
 brought up in the Established Church, but received his first con- 
 victions under Whitefield, while preaching in the open air at 
 Bradford in 1755. The volume before me, however, though it 
 consists of nearly 400 pages, and purports to be a Memoir of Mr. 
 Fawcett, contains very little account of a work of grace on his 
 soul. It would appear that he was " pious" from his youth, and it 
 certainly is an unspeakable mercy to be kept from youthful sins. 
 That Fawcett knew something, however, of the plague of his heart 
 and of the healing balm, will, I think, be manifest from one or two 
 extracts that I may have occasion to make from his diary. He 
 lived in a day when free grace and free will were united together, 
 so far as man could do it ; and it was not until the separation be- 
 tween Whitefield and John Wesley that the mist began to be dis- 
 pelled. Whitefield's sermon on the occasion I have named was 
 from John iii. 14. " As long as life remains," said Fawcett, "I 
 shall remember both the text and the sermon ;" for it seems they 
 sank deep into his heart. lie was then only 16 years of age. 
 From this time he began to make a more public profession of re- 
 ligion, and joined the people then called Methodists. Three years 
 afterwards he joined the Baptist church at Bradford. " One Lord's 
 
54 j. gadsby's memoirs op 
 
 Pay," he says, " I went to the public meeting, not without some 
 apprehension of taking cold, which I believe was the case ; for in 
 the afternoon I felt extremely ill, and was overwhelmed with 
 sickness. The sorrows and, as I thought, the pains of death, ap- 
 peared to take hold upon me, I was ready to conclude that my 
 useless life was drawing towards an end, and that the Lord was 
 about to cut me off in the midst of my days. I had a deep sense 
 of my past sins, which are many and grievous. I saw myself 
 deserving of the divine displeasure, and that if I am ever saved, 
 it must be through the mercy and grace of Jesus Christ. Many 
 of my Christian friends discovered great sympathy with me. I 
 could not forbear shedding tears at the sight of them. Having 
 taken something to drink, after one of my brethren had offered 
 up to God a fervent and suitable prayer, I attempted to walk home, 
 and reached it, after a little time, by the assistance of some kind 
 friends. Having perspired a little during the night, I found myself 
 this morning much relieved, for which I desire to bless God with 
 all my heart, and would earnestly implore that he would sanctify 
 this affliction to the benefit of my soul. 'It is good for me that 
 I have been afflicted, that I might learn thy statutes.' (Ps. cxix. 
 71.)" In 1763, at the request of the church, he entered on the 
 work of the ministry. He went the following year to Wainsgate, 
 over which church he was ordained, July 31st, 1765. His mind 
 was so much exercised for about six months afterwards, that he 
 seriously contemplated relinquishing the work altogether. He 
 wrote the following letter to a friend : 
 
 "Dear Sir, — I have taken this opportunity to acquaint you with the 
 bitter distress I at present feel. I fear I have entered upon a work to 
 which God has not called me; and instead of combating these fears 
 with success, I think I grow worse. I compare myself to the parched 
 heath in the wilderness, which knoweth not when good cometh. I am 
 continually bowed down under a sense of my weakness and foolishness. 
 I spend my days in pain and anguish of mind on these accounts; and 
 what will be the event of these things I know not. Surely, if the Lord 
 had called me to the work, I should be more sensible of his presence 
 with me, and of his assistance. I make my complaint to him daily, 
 but he seems to cover himself with a cloud that prayer cannot pass 
 through. I am ready to say with Job, ' When I cry and shout he 
 shutteth out my prayer.' In attempting to make preparation for the 
 pulpit, I sit for hours together, and can do little or nothing." 
 
 In 1772 he went to London, to supply for Dr. Gill, who, through 
 age and infirmities, was incapacitated from preaching. After Dr. 
 Gill's decease, Mr. F. was invited to become the regular pastor, 
 which, by the advice of some friends, and seeing that he had an 
 increasing family, with only £ 25 a-year from the people at Wains- 
 gate, he consented to do ; but, after a portion of his furniture and 
 books had been sold, be relented, and told his flock that if they 
 would raise him ,£40 a-year, it would be the extent of his wishes. 
 This, however, they declined to do. He nevertheless decided upon 
 remaining, and throwing himself upon the providence of God. In 
 1777 a new chapel was erected at Hebclen Bridge, no great distance 
 from Wainsgate -, and thither Mr. F. went. The chapel was capable 
 
HYMN-WRITEKfi AND COMPILERS. 55 
 
 of holding from 500 to GOO people. For several years prior to 1783, 
 he had been a great sufferer from sickness and domestic calamities. 
 In that year, however, (1783,) a favorable change took place in 
 his health, and his appearance was so much altered for the better, 
 that some of his friends could hardly recognise him. In 1703, 
 after the death of Dr. Caleb Evans, Mr. F. was invited to become 
 President of the Baptist Academy at Bristol; but this he declined. 
 In 1808 he preached at the opening of the Baptist Chapel, York 
 Street, Manchester, which had been erected by the people who 
 left St. George's Road when Mr. Gadsby settled there. Mr. F. 
 was connected with the B -.ptist Association, and Mr. G. was by 
 them accounted an " Antinomian." In 1814 Fawcett's health was 
 evidently rapidly declining, and early in 1816 he had become so 
 weak that he frequently had to use crutches. The account of 
 the state of his mind during his last illness is as follows: "As 
 to the state of his mind in this last illness, it was conformable to 
 what he had experienced and evidenced through all his former 
 afflictions. Mercy, divine mercy, was what he implored, with all 
 the lowliness of a babe in Christ. He joined with the greatest 
 fervency in the petitions offered up at his bedside; and though 
 his mind was not in general so much elevated with holy joy as 
 some of God's people have been, he had solid comfort, and often 
 expressed his ' desire to depart and to be with Christ.' A short 
 time before he expired, he said, ' Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly.' 
 One of his attendants having said, ' There remaineth a rest for 
 the people of God,' he added, '0 receive me to thy children !'" 
 
 He died July 25th, 1817. The following are extracts from his 
 
 diary: " Another month is come to a close; I have the same 
 complaints to make as at the beginning. I have been chargeable 
 with many sins of the heart, and many also in word and action. 
 I have made but little progress in the ways of holiness, and gained 
 but little advantage over the evil propensities of my heart. I 
 have indeed formed many resolutions to walk more circumspectly, 
 to be more constant and fervent in the private and public exer- 
 cises of religion ; but I have failed in the performance, and fallen 
 into lukewarmness and indifference. I have been of but little 
 use in my family, in the world, or in the church of God. My 
 life has been one continued scene of imperfection and sin. If I 
 had done all that the law of God requires, I should still have 
 been ' an unprofitable servant.' What, then, shall I say of my- 
 self, since I have come so very far short of its righteous demands 
 in every particular? I am a sinner, but blessed be God for Jesus 
 Christ 1 
 
 *0 Lord, I confess 
 
 To thee my distress, 
 And acknowledge my folly and sin; 
 
 How prone I'm to stray 
 
 From thy righteous way ; 
 How imperfect m y actions have been.'" 
 
 "May 1st, 17G0. — I have been but little this day in prayer and 
 meditation. I have found pride and ambition working in my 
 heart. I have reason to fear that I have sought my own praiso 
 
56 j. gadsby's memoirs of 
 
 more than the glory of God in writing the foregoing verses. I 
 
 have been very cold in my evening devotions." " May 26th. — 
 
 My sins have this day been many and great. I have to complain 
 of wandering thoughts and negligence in private prayer ; unrea- 
 sonable anger, and too much levity." " Wednesday, Oct. 21st. 
 
 — This morning I had reason to complain of hardness of heart, 
 and to lament an absent God; but I was enabled to look again 
 towards his holy temple. I see great need of divine strength to 
 preserve me from falling into those nets and snares which I meet 
 with by the way. Alas ! how prone am I to be led away by the 
 corrupt inclinations of my own vicious heart ! Lead thou me, 
 God, by thy Spirit, and let- me not wander from thy command- 
 ments !" Fawcett was greatly fond of psalmody, and often said, 
 
 " If the Lord has given to man the ability to raise such melodious 
 sounds and voices on earth, what delightful harmony will there 
 be in heaven!" His hymns were printed in Leeds, in 1782. He 
 was also the author of several other works. The well-known 
 hymn, 
 
 " A crumb of mercy, Lord, I crave," 
 
 though not published in Fawcett's works, was nevertheless writ- 
 ten by him. It appears in the " Gospel Magazine," 1777, with 
 his name and address in full. 
 
 Fellows (John) was contemporary with Gill, Toplady, &c. 
 Dr. Watt, in his Bibliotheca Britannica, calls him a Methodist. 
 He was, however, a Baptist, and many of the hymns he wrote 
 were on baptism, and printed in 1773. He was the author of a 
 sacred poem, entitled, " Grace Triumphant," " Elegies on the 
 Death of Gill and Toplady," &c. The 4th edition of his hymns, 
 with additions, was printed in 1777. This edition contains the 
 hymn, 
 
 " Humble souls, who seek salvation f 
 
 but it was written by Fawcett. In 1782, Fawcett published it 
 with the following remark: " The author (Fawcett) lays claim 
 to this hymn, though it has appeared under another name." 
 
 Fowler (Henry) was born in the parish of Yealmpton, Devon- 
 shire, Dec. 11th, 1779. Before he was 11 years old, he was put on 
 trial with a person at Dartmouth, but as the family were dis- 
 senters, and as he thought the church people must be right, he 
 was determined he would not serve his time there. Accordingly, 
 he was removed, and apprenticed at Plymouth. He soon con- 
 tracted the most awful habit of cursing and swearing. Indeed, 
 he was placed in the very school of vice and filthy conversation, 
 and was, he says, the devil's tool. When he had turned 17, he 
 got into company with a poor shoemaker, who induced him to 
 read a little of the " Pilgrim's Progress," and, as he read, ex- 
 plained to him the meaning of the various points. As the shoe- 
 maker expounded, Fowler felt something unaccountably strange 
 working in his mind, which he tried to put aside, but could not. 
 When he left, he ruminated over what had passed, and sensibly 
 felt that he was in a dangerous state. From this time he became 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 57 
 
 more moral. He resolved and vowed, and entered into a cove- 
 nant with God that he would love and serve him. Not being 
 able to pray, he got some ready-made prayers, but none suited 
 his case; so at last he threw them aside, and tried to pour out 
 his heart in broken sentences, such as, " Lord, teach me thy way ;" 
 "Show me thy mercy;" "Save, Lord; I am lost;" "Pardon 
 thou my sins." Sometimes he felt a little melting of heart, but 
 at other times great horror and trembling, and appeared to him- 
 self the vilest sinner on earth. He kept to his parish church, 
 and still hate:! all dissenters, but the clergyman was evidently as 
 dead as a stone. At length he was directed to go and hear Dr. 
 Hawker, and the time to him was a memorable one. The whole 
 discourse appeared to be directed to him. He was full of con- 
 sternation, and went home with the full conviction that he never 
 could be happy until he knew Christ for himself. He now began 
 to read diligently the Scriptures and all the religious books that 
 fell in his way. The light that shone in his heart and upon the 
 Bible astonished him, and he was like a hind let loose. He found 
 Christ to be precious in all his names, characters, and offices. 
 He also found much liberty in prayer, and told the Lord he could 
 not live unless he blessed him. Sometimes he thought he had 
 gone too far in his freedom with the Lord, when passage after 
 passage would be sent into his mind, until he stood amazed at 
 the sovereign love of God manifested in Jesus and in his heart 
 also. This lasted for several months. He now felt a strong 
 desire to preach Christ to poor sinners, and the light which God 
 had given him encouraged him to think that he would also qua- 
 lify him for the great work of the ministry. In 1799 he went to 
 London, where he had to labor with some of the worst of men. 
 Innumerable snares and temptations surrounded him, but the 
 Lord preserved him. Labor falling off, he went to Bristol, but 
 in three months returned to London. In the summer of 1800, 
 he had much bondage in his spirit. Hearing seemed to be of no 
 use to him, and despair fast approached him. One day he made 
 up his mind he would go for the last time to hear preaching, and 
 he went to hear John Newton. The Lord was pleased to make 
 the sermon, which was from Jonah ii. 7, a special blessing to 
 him, and his soul was taken once more out of prison. In October 
 he went to Portsea, and two months afterwards to Plymouth 
 Dock (now called Devonport.) One day, when he went to see 
 some of his relations, a few friends met together for prayer, as 
 there was no preaching; when an old disciple asked him to read 
 a chapter, and, if anything struck him, to tell them about it. 
 He did so, and continued for about half an hour. This was his 
 first attempt to speak in the name of the Lord. The report of 
 this soon spread abroad, and he was requested, soon afterwards, 
 to speak at the Old Tabernacle, at Plymouth, which put him in 
 great straits, for he could not refuse, and yet the thought of it 
 was horrible to his feelings. His text was Zech. ix. 11. He 
 felt the sweetness of the words, his fears were in a great measure 
 removed, and he was furnished with an abundance of language 
 and appropriate matter. The news soon spread, and he was from 
 
58 j. gabsby's memoirs op 
 
 that time frequently employed in preaching in Plymouth and the 
 villages round. While at Plymouth, Mr. Fowler wrote a number of 
 hymns, which were inserted in the " Gospel Magazine." * * * 
 Many propositions were made to him to relinquish his trade, and 
 give himself wholly to the ministry, but all in vain. All he 
 begged of the Lord was, that he would give him plenty of busi- 
 ness, and enable him to preach the gospel free of charge. In 
 1813, the providence of God appeared all against him, so that he 
 was shut up every way and hemmed in on every side. He there- 
 fore made up his mind to go to Bristol for a week or two. 
 Having made his arrangements, he met with a man who gave 
 him a letter to take to Mr. Robins. Robins was from home, but 
 a friend of his opened the letter, and the result was that Fowler 
 preached to Robins's people on the following Lord's Day. While 
 at Bristol he received a letter inviting him to go to Birmingham 
 to supply for them. He went accordingly, being in August, 1813; 
 and this ended in his being settled there at the place previously 
 filled by John Bradford. In 1819, Mr. F. received an invitation 
 to supply at a chapel in Conway Street, London. This chapel 
 was opened for Mr. Robins by some old hearers of William 
 Huntington, who had then departed to his eternal rest. In Oc- 
 tober Mr. F. went there, which event led to his finally removing 
 to London, after the new chapel in Gower Street was built. The 
 account from which I have taken most of the preceding was 
 written by himself. The work is entitled, " Travels in the 
 Wilderness." Mr. Fowler breathed his last on Sunday, Dec. 
 16th, 1838. His departure was so easy that those around him 
 were not aware his spirit had fled. The last time he preached 
 was on Tuesday evening, November 15th. He was obliged to 
 take to his bed on the Monday following, which, during the last 
 fortnight, he only left to have made three or four times, on 
 account of his great weakness. His cough was very violent at 
 first, and as weakness increased his sufferings became very great. 
 Not being able to lie on his back through a sense of suffocation 
 seizing him when he did so, he sat up almost the whole time of 
 his confinement to his bed. During the first part of his confine- 
 ment, being asked how he felt in his mind, he said, "lam under 
 shades and glooms. The Lord sees fit to lead me through much 
 tribulation ; but I know it is well with me whatever my frame of 
 mind, and will be so at the last. I must come in on the old 
 ground — redemption free, justification free, salvation free." On 
 Sunday, Dec. 2nd, when one of his family went up to see him, 
 he said, " Satan has been very hard with me since my afflic- 
 tion, very strong with me; and at times I have had hard work 
 to keep hold of the hem of the Saviour's garment." For the 
 last fortnight his mind was in a far more happy frame. He 
 seemed quite tranquil, and many times expressed his firm reliance 
 on Christ, and his assurance of Christ's love to his soul. At one 
 time he sang this verse : 
 
 " If thou, my Jesus, still be nigh, 
 Cheerful I live, and joyful die ; 
 
HYMN-WRITEKS AND COMPILERS. 59 
 
 Secure, when mortal comforts flee, 
 To find ten thousand worlds in thee ! " 
 
 On Dec. 15th he was much worse, and symptoms of approaching 
 dissolution appeared. In the evening he took his wife's hand, 
 and said, "My dear, I feel quite happy! Christ is very precious 
 to me;" and added, u I think I have been wandering a good deal 
 this evening ; but what I now say I speak from the real feelings 
 of my heart." He askedthe time, and being told, he said, " N< t 
 later! Lord, when, when — ," and other words which could not 
 be distinguished. These expressions wee uttered about three 
 hours before his departure. Towards the closing scene his voice 
 changed, and he spoke with great difficulty. At this time he 
 said solemnly, " Christ is the substance and end of the law." 
 Soon after, " Come, Jesus, come quickly ;" and repeated the word 
 " Come " several times. The last words that could be distin- 
 guished as connected were, "My God, my God, take me to thee 
 to see thy face, and sing thy praise." He spoke several times 
 after that apparently in prayer, saying, " Jesus, my God," and 
 " Come, dear Jesus," his countenance looking very beautiful at 
 the time, every trace of his recent suffering being gone. After a 
 little silence, with a long sigh, he breathed his last, having just 
 
 completed his 59th year. Mr. Fowler was not a Baptist. Soon 
 
 after Gower Street Chapel, London, was built, Mr. F. became the 
 pastor. A clause was inserted in the trust-deed to the effect 
 that the first minister that was settled there should decide whether 
 the cause should be a Baptist one or not. Mr. F., however, on 
 being chosen, declined that responsibility. I believe his conscience 
 would not let him rill up the vacant clause against Baptism, what- 
 ever might have prevented his doing so in favor oi it. Some time 
 after his death, a man named Blackstock, who had once professed 
 to be a Baptist, but who had on two or three occasions found it 
 convenient to change his sentiments, was appointed his successor ; 
 and he, less scrupulous, filled up the clause by inserting "mixed 
 communion."* This time-serving step w r as followed by the mark- 
 
 * Mr Blackstock was for some years pastor of a Strict Baptist Church at Wolver- 
 hampton. A minister was wanted by a Baptist church at Lakenheath; but the 
 principal wealthy supporters of the chapel were not Baptists. Mr. B. went and 
 settled over them and turned the church into Open Communion; but in a very 
 short time his two main supporters were struck by death. They died within a 
 week of each other. It was a solemn stroke. Mr. B. then had to leave. He then 
 professed to have seen his error, in having renounced Strict Communion, and wrote 
 to Mr Gadsby, stating that God had shown hi? displeasure, his hand having gone 
 out against him in more ways than one. Mr. G. did not reply to his letter, but he 
 subsequently met him at the house of a friend. Meantime Mr. B. had been sup- 
 plying for a month at Gowcr Street, and then for three months at Soho Chapel, 
 Oxford Strc. t, where he quite expected to settle. The deacons, however, do not 
 appear to have been satisfied about his principles. They were Strict Baptists, and 
 did not wish to have the seeds of disunion sown in the church; and they therefore 
 catechised him as to his vacillation. His answer was, "I would sooner lose my 
 right arm than change to Open Communion again." And upon one occasion he 
 is reported to have said in the Soho pulpit that " the ordinance of the Lord's Supper 
 without previous baptism was like a cow with only one horn." At his interview 
 with Mr. Gadsby, above referred to, Mr. G. said, " 1 give you my hand upon your 
 confession ; but at the same time I stand in doubt of you! 1 believe, if the peo- 
 ple at Gower Street gave you a call on Open Communion principles, you would 
 accept of the call." " O, Mr. Gadsby!" Mr. B. replied ; " you do not know what I 
 have Buffered, or you would think differently." " Well," said Mr. G., " time will 
 prove." In a very short time after this, Mr. B. having been rejected at Soho Chapel, 
 
CO j. gadsbyt's memoirs op 
 
 ed displeasure of God. The people fell off, until they were un- 
 able to pay the interest, and the mortgagee sold the chapel ; by 
 which means £2,600, that had been subscribed towards its erec- 
 tion, was entirely sacrificed, and the chapel became private pro- 
 perty. It was afterwards, however, sold to the people, or their 
 successors rather, for whom it was originally built, and is now a 
 Strict Baptist cause. Mr. F. published a small volume of Origi- 
 nal Hymns in 1818, and a second in 1824. Also a Selection. 
 
 Francis (Benjamin) was born in 1734, and was baptized when 
 only 15 years of age. At 19, he commenced preaching, and went 
 for three years to the academy at Bristol. On leaving, he went to 
 Sodbury, but removed, in 1757, to Horsley, where he was ordained 
 in 1758. The chapel was so well attended that it had to be en- 
 larged, and he visited London to collect towards the expenses. 
 Here he was tempted to give up his charge and remove to London, 
 but he positively refused, though he had a large and afflicted 
 family, with only a very small income. In 1764, the chapel had 
 to be again enlarged, and the next year a new chapel was built 
 for him at Minchin Hampton; and here he remained for 35 years, 
 that is, until his death, Dec. 14th, 1799. He is said to have been 
 of a most heavenly mind, and generally happy, though mostly in 
 the midst of trouble. His early friends were nearly all taken 
 away before him, and he would often weep at the remembrance 
 of them. Looking up towards heaven, he would call it the resi- 
 dence of his most numerous friends, containing far more of them 
 than were left him on earth. His last illness confined him to his 
 house for nearly 12 weeks, and was, at times, exceedingly painful, 
 yet seldom did a wrinkle distort his countenance. He was the 
 author of " Lipping versus Sprinkling." (See p. 154.) 
 
 *' Pray, Mistress Lytlia, let us know, If you have children, please to tell 
 
 Are you in social life or no 1 "What is their age, and where they dwell; 
 
 If married, what's your husband's name? And whether they were all rhantized, 
 And why hath Luke conceal'd the same ? W^hen your whole household wasbaptized." 
 
 Franklin (Jonathan) was born Nov. 10th, 1760, and died May 
 3rd, 1833. He was originally minister of a Baptist church at Croy- 
 don, but, in 1808, removed to Redcross Street Chapel, London, 
 where he remained until his death. He wrote several hymns, 
 
 Gadsby (William) was born in the village of Attleborough, 
 Warwickshire, about Jan. 3rd, 1773. As his parents were very 
 poor, he had little or no education. When 13, he was apprenticed 
 to a ribbon weaver, but was subsequently compelled to leave 
 that trade, in consequence of a tenderness of the chest; and he 
 then became a stocking weaver. In 1790, he went to see three 
 
 the very thing 1 occurred which Mr. G. had predicted. Mr. G., therefore, positively 
 refused to preach in Gower Street Chapel any more, as he could not countenance 
 such an unstable man. Mr. B. left in MS. his autobiography, which was published 
 alter his death. I speak deliberately when I say he was not honest enough to 
 publish it during Mr. Gadsby's life, or during his own life ; for in it he charges Mr. 
 Gadsby and others with having persecuted him ; whereas, all that they did was to 
 decline countenancing him by preaching where he preached, on account of his in- 
 consistency. To me, whether in the character of a biographer or a Christian, it 
 matters not whether a man be a Churchman, a Baptist, or a Fedo-baptist, if he be 
 a true Christian, and consistent in his profession; but a time-server must call 
 for and will have the displeasure of God. (Jas. i. 8.) Had it not been for Mr. B.'s 
 book, I should not have referred to the subject at all. 
 
 . 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. Gl 
 
 men hung, and the horrid spectacle had such an effect upon Ins 
 mind that he was never afterwards like the same youth; for the 
 thoughts of eternity preyed much upon his spirits. The lengths 
 of folly into which he ran prior to this time were often related by 
 him in his ministry ; but as perhaps nearly every one whose eye this 
 may meet will have read the Memoir of him which was published 
 shortly after his death, I shall not give the account here, nor yet 
 of his experience, his call to the ministry, (fee* Suffice it to say> 
 that, in 1793, he was baptized, and joined Mr. Butterworth's 
 church at Coventry. In 1796 he received his dismission from that 
 church, and joined a few people who met in a barn at Hinckley. 
 The first time that he stood up and took a text was on Vv 7 hit- 
 Sunday, 1798, in an upper room in a yard at Bedworth, Warwick- 
 shire. His text was 1 Pet. ii. 7. In 1800, a chapel was built for 
 him at Desford, Leicestershire, and he at the same time often 
 preached in the barn at Hinckley. The word is said to have been 
 greatly blessed. In 1802, a chapel was built at Hinckley. In 1805, 
 he removed with his family to Manchester, to the chapel in which 
 a Mr. Sharpe formerly preached, in St, George's Road, now called 
 Rochdale Road, where he remained until his death, Jan 27th» 
 1844. While over the church at Manchester, he travelled for 
 preaching more than 60,000 miles, (railways were Unknown dur- 
 ing many of his earlier years,) and must have preached nearly 
 12,000 sermons. In the " Gospel Magazine' 1 for 1824, there is an 
 account of the laying of the foundation stone of Mount Zion 
 Chapel, Plymouth Dock, (Devonport,) when an address from 1 Cor. 
 Hi. 11, was delivered by Mr. Gadsby, in the presence of upwards of 
 6,000 persons. ,, His Selection of Hymns, to which this little 
 work is designed as a " Companion, " was first published in 1814. 
 In 1838, a new edition was issued with a Supplement, now called 
 the " First Supplement," many of Mr. G.'s original hymns being 
 curtailed to make room for it. In 1846-7, (that is, after his 
 death,) the whole of Hart's hymns which did not already appear 
 in the Selection, were added thereto, making the total number of 
 hymns in the book 882. In 1849-50, in consequence of a fire at 
 my premises in London having destroyed the stereotype plates of 
 the hymn book, the Second Supplement, by Mr. Philpot, of 25G 
 hymns, was added, increasing the total number to about 1130, 
 several of Hart's being omitted, as not suitable for general use. 
 My father also published a Selection of Hymns for Sunday Schools. 
 Many of his own hymns were inserted in various volumes of 
 the " Gospel Magazine," signed " A Nazarcnc," which was in- 
 deed his usual signature in that magazine. These hymns, with 
 many other originals, were published by him in a separate volume, 
 under the title of " The Nazarene's Songs." His signatures in 
 the " Gospel Standard" were, "An Old Soldier," " A Lover of 
 Zion," &c. He was buried in the vault IS T o. 1450 in the Rush- 
 olme Road Cemetery, Manchester, Mr. Kershaw, of Rochdale, 
 officiating, and several thousand persons being present. * * 
 For the particulars of my father's life, I must refer to the Memoir 
 
 * The Memoir consists of 120 pages, price cue shilling. 
 
62 j. gadsby's memoirs op 
 
 already alluded to. I could not do justice to him in less than 15 
 or 20 pages, and this space I cannot possibly spare here. His 
 last words were, "I shall soon be with him, shouting, Victory, 
 victory, victory," (raising his hand) " for ever." * * # "Free 
 grace, free grace, free grace!" He died without a struggle, 
 without moving hand, or foot, or head. 
 
 Gibbons (Thomas) was born at Reek, near Swaffham Prior, 
 Cambridgeshire, May 31st, 1720. In 1742, he was appointed 
 assistant minister at Silver Street, and, in 1743, was chosen 
 minister of the Independent church at Haberdashers' Hall, Lon- 
 don. The University of Aberdeen conferred upon him the degree 
 of D.D. in 1764. He wrote several works, " Rhetoric," " Me- 
 moirs of Eminent Women," of Dr. Watts, &c. On Feb. 17th, 
 1785, he was seized with a fit, and remained speechless until the 
 22nd, when he expired. His hymns were published in 1769. 
 His father, also named Thomas, was for some years minister at 
 Olney, and afterwards at Royston. 
 
 Gospel Magazine. — As many hymns now in almost universal 
 use were originally published in this magazine, it may not be out 
 of place to give some account of ft. It commenced in 1766. It 
 was then edited by a Mr. Gurney. In 1774 it was edited by Mr. 
 Mason, author of the Divine Treasury. From Dec, 1775, to 
 June, 1776, it was edited by Toplady, but his health compelled 
 him to give it up. Mr. Erasmus Middleton, author of the Bio- 
 graphica Evangelica, succeeded him; but in 1783 it ceased to 
 exist, and the New Spiritual Magazine took its place for a short 
 time. In 1796 the Gospel Magazine was revived by Mr. Row, 
 who continued editor until 1838, when he died. It then got 
 into the hands of a clergyman named Baker, a Puseyite, or some- 
 thing as bad, but is now edited by Mr. Doudney, on Calvinistic 
 principles. Dr. Watt, in his Bibliotheca Britannica, says the 
 magazine commenced in 1768; but this is an error, as I have had 
 the earlier volumes, and have now deposited them in the British 
 Museum library. 
 
 Geant (James) was for some time a magistrate in Edinburgh. 
 He was a true Christian, and ever a lover of good men. Having 
 " an ear for music," he was delighted with the old Scottish me- 
 lodies, but, of course, disliked the words to which they were 
 sung. He therefore composed some sweetly plaintive experi- 
 mental hymns to be sung to them. These are now but little 
 known; but one of them, 
 
 " Zion, afflicted with wave upon wave," 
 
 which he compose! to the air of the " Yellow-hair 'd laddie," 
 has found its way into many selections, and is likely to live for 
 ages. The Hymns were printed in 1784, and entitled, " Original 
 Hymns and Poems written by a private Christian for his own 
 use." 
 
 Greene (Thomas) resided at Ware, in Hertfordshire. His 
 hymns were first published in 1780. He was not, I believe, a 
 minister. 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 63 
 
 Giugg (Joseph) was assistant minister to Mr. Bures, of Silver 
 Street, London; but upon the death of the latter, Mr. G. retired 
 from this service. He married a lady possessed of considerable 
 property, the widow of Colonel Drew, lie died at Walthamstow, 
 Oct. 29th, 1768. lie composed 19 hymns, in a 12mo. volume, 
 entitled, "Hymns by the fate Rev. Joseph Grigg, Stourbridge." 
 Amongst these, is that beautiful hymn, 
 
 "Jesus ! and shall it ever be," 
 
 which has been ascribed to so many different persons. I have 
 seen the above little book, and have no doubt of its originality. 
 
 Hammond (William, B.A.) was one of the early Calvinistic 
 Methodist preachers, lie afterwards joined the Moravians, and 
 was buried in the Moravian burying-ground, Chelsea, in 1783. 
 He wrote his autobiography in Greek, but it was never published. 
 He was educated at John's College, Cambridge. His hymns were 
 printed in 1745, and he wrote a work entitled, " The Marrow 
 of the Church." There is a preface giving some account of a 
 weak faith, a full assurance of faith, &c. 
 
 Hart (Joseph) was born about the year 1712. As his " Ex- 
 perience," written by himself, must have been read by nearly 
 every one under whose eye this can fall, and as those who have 
 not read it may procure it for a penny, I shall not attempt to give 
 it here. He received a classical education, and his civil calling 
 was that of a teacher of languages. He was delivered from bond- 
 age in the Moravian Chapel, Fetter Lane, London. He began to 
 preach about 1760, and is said to have delivered his first sermon 
 at the Old Meeting House, St. John's Court, Bermondsey, and 
 was afterwards settled at the Independent Chapel, Jewin Street, 
 London. His ministry was most abundantly blessed to a large 
 and prosperous church, and his congregations were equally nume- 
 rous. He was determined to keep his pulpit free from the errors 
 of the day, not allowing, as Toplady says of him, an Arian, or 
 Arminian, or any unsound preacher, to occupy it even once. His 
 usual saying on this matter was, "I will keep my pulpit as chaste 
 as my bed." Mr, Hart continued preaching, valiant for the truth, 
 to his congregation, even while sinking under the pressure of 
 bodily suffering. I have no account of the duration of his last 
 illness, or of the nature of it ; but it may be judged to have been 
 somewhat lingering from the observations of Mr. Hughes, his bro- 
 ther-in-law, when preaching his funeral sermon : "He was like 
 the laborious ox that dies with the yoke on his neck ; so did he 
 with the yoke of Christ on his neck ; neither would he suffer it 
 to be taken off, for you are witnesses that he preached Christ to 
 you with the arrows of death sticking in him." He died on the 
 24th of May, 1768, aged 56 years, having been about eight years 
 in the ministry. His remains lie interred in Bunhill Fields bury- 
 ing-ground, where a tombstone to his memory may be seen. An 
 oration was delivered at his interment by Andrew Kinsman, of 
 Plymouth ; and his own hymn, beginning 
 
 " Sons of God, by blest adoption," 
 
64 j. gadsby's memoirs op 
 
 was sung over his grave by the multitude. It was said that his 
 funeral was attended by the largest number of persons that were 
 ever assembled on those grounds, there being upwards of 20,000. 
 " Mr. Hart left behind him a widow and five children. Being in 
 destitute circumstances, Mr. Hughes's sermon was published for 
 their benefit, and subscriptions were made among the friends of 
 the deceased for the same end. Mrs. Hart survived her husband 
 nearly 22 years, dying in 1790, aged 64 ; and now lies with him 
 in Bunhill Fields. The last survivor of Mr. Hart's children died 
 in the year 1836, at an advanced age. He had been a barrister. Hav- 
 ing married an heiress of Lincolnshire, and assumed her name, he 
 was not known by that of his family. Of late years he was a local 
 preacher among tbeWesleyans, and preached twice the day before 
 his death. Several grandchildren of Mr. Hart are now living ; 
 one of whom is Mr. Joseph Hart, music-seller, Hatton-garden, 
 London. After the death of Mr. Hart, who was not a Baptist, 
 the choice of the church falling upon Mr. Hughes, who was a 
 Baptist, to succeed him, a division took place in the church. The 
 Independent part of it, among whom was Mr. Hart's widow, sat 
 under the ministry of Mr. John Towers. Mr. Hughes's sermon 
 shows him to have been a man of like spirit with Mr. Hart, and 
 a suitable person to follow him in the same place, to feed the flock 
 of God just bereaved of their beloved pastor. He survived his 
 predecessor only five years, as he died on the 29th of May, 1773, 
 and was also interred in Bunhill Fields. In his last moments he 
 exclaimed, " I have no other refuge for my immortal soul than 
 this : God loved me from all eternity, loved me when a sinner in 
 my blood, and will love me for ever." The pharisaical Dr. John- 
 son says, " Easter day, 1764, I went to church. I gave a shilling; 
 and seeing a poor girl at the sacrament in a bed-gown, gave her 
 privately a crown, though I saw Hart's hymns in her hand!" 
 The editor of the "New Spiritual Magazine," 1786, says, " This 
 valuable minister was for some years a pastor of an Independent 
 chapel in Jewin Street, London, and was there made a very useful 
 instrument for the conviction, conversion, and establishment of 
 the elect of God. He spared no pains to set forth the glory of 
 Christ and the blessedness of his kingdom." His funeral sermon 
 was preached by his brother-in-law, Mr. John Hughes, who gave 
 the following testimony concerning him : "It is well known to 
 many, that he came into the work of the ministry in much weak- 
 ness and brokenness of soul, and laboring under many deep 
 temptations of a dreadful nature ; for, though the Lord was 
 pleased to confirm him in his everlasting love to his soul, yet (to 
 my knowledge) he was at times so left to the buffetings of Satan, 
 for the trial of his faith, and to such clouds and darkness in his 
 soul, that he has been ofttimes obliged to preach to the church 
 with sense and reason flying in his own face, and his faith at the 
 same time like a bruised reed, insomuch that he has often done by 
 the church as the widow of Serepta did to the prophet Elijah, 
 who made him a cake of that little she had, when she herself 
 seemed at the very point of starving. He gave a proof of the 
 soundness of his faith by the soundness of his repentance, openly 
 
 
IIYMX-WRITER3 AND COMPILERS. 05 
 
 confessing his sins to all the world, and forsaking them. Though 
 he knew assuredly that his sins were for ever pardoned, yet he 
 was contented to stand in the porch of the house of the Lord all 
 his days, alone bearing his shame, that others might learn to fear 
 
 the Lord by the things which he suffered. " Mr. Hart's little 
 
 volume of hymns will live while the world stands. Before his 
 call by grace, he is said to have composed several profane songs, 
 which are still extant in the world. 
 
 IIaweis (Thomas, LL.D. and M.D.) was born about 1732. He 
 was educated at one of the colleges at Oxford, but was expelled 
 because, for no other reason could ever be ascertained, he was a 
 Calvinist and had large congregations. The chapel at Broadway, 
 "Westminster, was presented to him, but the Dean refused to 
 license him, becoM.se he had been expelled from Oxford. Sub- 
 sequently, however, he was nominated Rector of Aldwinkle, 
 Northamptonshire, and he held the living for 56 years. Lady 
 Huntingdon appointed him one of her chaplains, and he itine- 
 rated for her. For several years prior to his death he resided at 
 Bath, and died there, Feb. 11th, 1820, being then the oldest 
 " Evangelical" clergyman in England. He wrote the "Life of 
 Romaine;" " A View of the Present State of Evangelical Religion 
 throughout the World;" "Church History," etc., and a few 
 hymns, amongst which is, 
 
 "0 thou from whom all goodness flows." 
 
 Herbert (Daxiel) was born about the year 1751. He had to 
 wade through a long series of losses and crosses, that bore down 
 upon him like a torrent, and so shattered his nerves that he never 
 finally recovered. But though God tried him in the furnace of 
 temporal affliction, he balanced his stroke, when the barrel of 
 meal and cruse of oil had been nearly spent, by raising him up 
 some friendly aid; so that he often said. "How good is God to 
 me, a poor, discontented, murmuring, rebellious worm!" The 
 editor of the " Gospel Magazine," J 833, says of him, "He was a 
 plain, unadorned, though faithful and honest, messenger to dis- 
 pense the word of eternal life to the helpless family of Zion. In 
 early life it pleased Jehovah to meet him with omnipotent grace, 
 and put him into the happy possession of gospel peace, at which 
 period he gave him a promise that ' his shoes should be iron and 
 brass, and as his day so should his strength be;' which in the after 
 stages of Christian conflict was truly verified. This indeed was 
 exemplified in the conduct and experience of our beloved friend, 
 who for more than 60 years knew what it was, by a living faith, 
 to view his multiplied transgressions buried in the great fountain 
 of a Redeemer's blood. His dear Lord imparted to him a clear 
 perception, spiritually to enter into the great mystery of iniquity 
 so opposed to the reign of grace in the hearts of God's elect, so 
 that he knew how to speak a word of advice to the tempted and 
 tried followers of the Lamb; and his Lord had designed him to be 
 an instrument in his hand for good to his chosen seed, scattered 
 abroad." "Respecting the last few months of his frail abode, 
 his friends evidently saw the gradual approach of dissolution; 
 
66 J. gadsby's memoirs of 
 
 and for some weeks prior to that period, the Lord was pleased 
 for wise ends to suffer the great foe to shoot his fiery darts; yet 
 under those dark seasons light sprang up, and faith would say, 
 * All, all is well. I know in whom I have believed. Jesus is mine; 
 he paid down a price for me, and I should be the basest wretch 
 were I not to declare it.' Sometimes he would say, ' Satan is at 
 his old work again, but he cannot come near. ISTo, no ! my precious 
 Jesus will not leave me; he has promised me that which I am sure 
 he will perform. He does supply my need. Ah! my precious 
 Christ, what a sink of iniquity I am ! I feel it, but I am washed ! 
 I will praise free grace as long as I have breath. All my hope 
 beyond the grave is Christ. I am justified by his righteousness. 
 I have peace within, and will glory in my enfeebled state. I have 
 been called an Antinomian for many years, but tell the professing 
 world my faith is fixed on Christ, the rock, who is the self- 
 existent, independent God, with the Father and the Holy Spirit. 
 I feel his power, and love his dear name, and I care not a rush 
 for what they say. I have an anchorage steadfast and sure, and 
 shall outride the storm and enter the port, where envy and malice 
 cannot come.' Drawing near his end, he added, ' It will soon be 
 over. Redeemed by precious blood, saved by sovereign grace, rich 
 and free, I shall soon sing as loud as Paul the apostle. Come, 
 Lord, with thy smiles, and take thy poor servant home!' This 
 prayer his God answered, and gave him to enjoy a peace of 
 mind that passeth all understanding. On the evening of the day 
 he died, his spirit was calm and joyous. He entered the valley 
 and shadow, exclaiming, as his last words, c Ah, my Father! my 
 Father! my Father!' and fell asleep upon his couch by his fire' 
 
 side without a sigh." He died Aug. 29th, 1833. His hymns 
 
 were written at Sudbury. They consist of three volumes, but the 
 third volume is more scarce than the first two volumes. The 
 preface to Yol. I. is dated 1801. In this Preface he says, " I 
 flatter myself that the hymns will be received by those who know 
 the plague of their own hearts and have felt the powder of effica- 
 cious grace. * * * While the poor saved sinner, who is enabled 
 to credit the report of the gospel of salvation, full and free, with- 
 out money and without price, will find satisfaction in reading 
 these lines, whatever the man untaught of God may say will give 
 the writer no concern." 
 
 Hill (Rowland) was born at Hawkstone, near Shrewsbury, 
 in 1744, and was the sixth son of Sir Rowland Hill, Baronet. 
 He was educated for the Church of England, but joined 
 Lady Huntingdon, and for a long time preached in her pulpits. 
 Something, however, caused a difference between them. Her 
 ladyship felt this acutely, as she had helped him in more ways 
 than one when he stood in need of help. He subsequently sought 
 to be reconciled to the Countess, but she replied, " He wants to 
 preach to our large congregations, and bring nothing but divi- 
 sions; but I have avoided this." This was in 1781. Ten years 
 previously, John Berridge, under whose patronage Rowland had 
 oome out, had called him " Honest Rowley." In 1782-3, the 
 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. G7 
 
 Surrey Tabernacle was erected for him. Lady H. subscribed li- 
 berally towards it, but said she had seen enough of him to exclude 
 him from her chapels. Of course I give no opinion upon this; 
 I merely record the circumstance. lie wrote several works against 
 Wesley and in defence of Calvinism, &c. The editor of the " New 
 Spiritual Magazine" says, "Perhaps the doctrines of Calvin had 
 not been so vehemently enforced by any preacher since the death 
 of Whitefield. He preached frequently at the chapel in Totten- 
 ham Court Road, the Tabernacle in Moorfields, &c. Becoming 
 famous for his almost unparalleled zeal and originality, he drew a 
 great number of people after him. The crowd was too great to 
 be contained within the walls of the Tabernacle, and our preacher 
 was obliged to launch forth in the open fields. He also went out 
 to Hampstead Heath, and met a multitude. The second Sunday 
 it happened to be wet, when he took for his text, ' My doctrine 
 shall drop as the rain.' ' What,' he said, ' would the condemned 
 souls in Tophet's parched pit give for a single drop of this conso- 
 latory rain, that falls upon our delightful land, and makes fruit- 
 ful our long burnt- up fields ? ' The same summer he preached on 
 Kennington Common, at Croydon, Mitcham, (fee." Indeed, his 
 labors were not confined to any part, as he itinerated over Eng- 
 land, Scotland, Ireland, and Wales. " We are commanded," he 
 said, " to preach the gospel to every creature, even to the ends 
 of the earth; therefore, though I wander about, I always stick to 
 my parish" A man was once going to throw a stone at him, 
 when another, who stood by, laid hold of his arm, and said, " If 
 thee dost touch him, I'll knock thy head off." A person on one 
 occasion threw three snakes upon him; but Mr. H., finding they 
 were harmless, cast them behind him, and had the pleasure of 
 finding this man subsequently, as he says, " a steadfast follower 
 of the Lamb of God." Mr. H. was once fired at while preaching 
 in his own pulpit. The ball passed the pulpit, and broke the 
 window. A few years before his death, he was preaching at Devon- 
 port, when two men, upwards of 70 years of age, entered the 
 vestry, and asked him if he remembered preaching there fifty years 
 ago; to which Mr. H. replied in the affirmative. They then told 
 him that they had gone together at that time to stone him; but 
 his prayer had so deeply impressed them that they looked at each 
 other and trembled. They retired to their homes, but neither of 
 them durst go to bed, lest they should awake in hell. From that 
 time they hoped, they said, they " were converted to God, who of 
 his infinite mercy had kept them in his ways to that moment." 
 About 1772 Hill wrote to Mr, Fletvher, who had been advocating 
 the doctrines of Wesley, " You represent finished salvation as the 
 vilest Antinomianism. * * * You charge us with the oppro- 
 brious name of Antinomians, and place us with a set of monsters 
 invented by yourself." Yet, unhappily, in 1820 w T e find Mr. H. 
 calling others Antinomians for believing those self-same doctrines. 
 A w r ork that he wrote, " Imposture Detected," against John Wes- 
 ley, he sent to Toplady to correct. In this work, Mr. Hill styles 
 Wesley a " lying apostle," " the prodigy of the age," " a designing 
 wolf," &c. tire. " This most marvellous Mr. John," says he, 
 
68 j. gadsby's memoirs of 
 
 "must be allowed to assert just what he pleases, without any 
 regard to truth or fear of falsehood. His tongue and his pen 
 may hiss, and his bare ipse dixit, not only unwarranted by proof, 
 but in flat contradiction to facts, is to confirm the whole fabulous 
 legend." Some persons have tried to make it appear that the 
 work was written by Toplady; but this is a mistake. After Top- 
 lady had " soled and heeled it," as Hill expressed it, he returned 
 the manuscript to Hill, and Hill published it in his own name. 
 Thomas Olivers replied to this work, under the title, "An Oliver 
 for a Rowland;" when Hill immediately cried out, " It was not 
 mine; it was Toplady's." This untied the knot of friendship 
 between him and Toplady. When Toplady was on his death- bed, 
 Hill wished to see him; but Toplady said he was too ill to be 
 seen; but he forgave him, and sent his love to him. Hill attacked 
 William Huntington with great malignity. It is said that Hun- 
 tington once sent a note to him by his servant, when Hill took it 
 form the servant's hands with a pair of tongs, and, without open- 
 ing it, conveyed it direct to the fire. He was once waited upon 
 by a person whom he termed an Antinomian, when he turned to 
 him and said, "Do you, Sir, hold the Ten Commandments to 
 be the rule of life to Christians?" "All the law, and more than 
 the law," replied the visitor, " is in the gospel, and that is their 
 rule." Mr. H. then rang the bell, and said to his servant, "John, 
 show that man the door, and keep your eye upon him until he is 
 
 beyond the reach of everything in the hall." " I had almost 
 
 said I had rather see the devil in the pulpit than an Antinomian." 
 In a speech he once made at the Argyle Rooms, London, he said, 
 " I hope the time will come when I shall see the funeral of all 
 bigotry; and then I would say, as the man said who had buried 
 a bad wife, ' This is a joyous day indeed ! * " After the meeting, 
 he wrote the following lines: 
 
 " Here lies old bigotry, abhorr'd 
 By all that love our common Lord. 
 No more his influence shall prove 
 The torment of the sons of love. 
 
 " We celebrate, with holy mirth, 
 This monster's death, of hellish birth; 
 Ne'er may his hateful Influence rise 
 Again, to blast our sacred joys. 
 
 " Glory to God, we now are one; 
 United to one Head alone. 
 With undivided hearts we praise 
 Our God, for his uniting grace. 
 
 u Let names, and sects, and parties fall; 
 Let Jesus Christ be all in all. 
 Thus, like thy saints above, shall we 
 Be one with each as one with thee." 
 
 The " Gospel Magazine," for 1833, says, " It is well known 
 that Mr. Hill, with all his profession of loving his neighbor 
 as himself, which was his constant pulpit theme, was the last 
 
HYMN- WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 69 
 
 man to exercise that God-like disposition. Let his treatment, 
 among innumerable instances, stand forth, of Romaine, Hawker, 
 and poor William Huntington," the two latter of whom he styled 
 
 Antinomians. Mr. Hill was certainly both an original and 
 
 an eccentric ; but I do not believe half the ridiculous stories 
 that are told of him. Some of them, indeed, weie also 
 told of my father, such as his saying one morning from 
 the pulpit, " Here comes my wife with a chest of drawers 
 on her head;" and so forth. From his very boyhood, however, 
 Hill evinced a quick and witty turn of mind. He was once play- 
 ing in a room in which his father was sitting in an arm-chair, 
 when some one said to him, " Well, Rowley, what should you 
 like to be ?" Looking knowingly towards his father, the baronet, 
 he said, " I should like to be a baronet, and sit in a great chair." 
 During his residence at Eton School, there was once a discussion 
 about the letter H. Some said it had the full force of a regular 
 letter, while others contended that it was a mere aspirate, and 
 might be left out of the alphabet altogether without any disad- 
 vantage. On hearing this, Rowland exclaimed, " For goodness' 
 sake, don't take away the H, or I shall have to be ill all the 
 
 days of my life. Mr. Hill was once invited to preach some 
 
 charity sermons at Wapping, when the managers of the chapel 
 told him that, as it was a very respectable congregation, they 
 hoped he would be as guarded as possible in his expressions. 
 After the usual singing and prayer, Rowland opened the Bible, 
 and, leaning upon it with both arms, he exclaimed, " Here 
 we are, all sinners at Wapping; and we are all whopping 
 
 sinners!" He was once returning from Ireland, when he was 
 
 greatly annoyed by the captain and mate, who, for some time, 
 did scarcely anything but sw r ear, first at each other and then at 
 the wind. Mr. H., however, in a loud voice, called out, " Stop, 
 stop ! Let us have fair play. It is my turn now." " Your turn 
 for what?" asked the captain. " Why, to swear," replied Mr. H. 
 "Very well," said they; and they waited, and waited, but still 
 Mr. II. did not swear; until the patience of both captain and 
 mate was exhausted, and they bade him be quick, and take his 
 turn. " Ah!" said Mr. II., "as it is my turn, I have a right to 
 take my own time, and swear at my own convenience; and I will 
 do so when I can see any good in it." " I did not hear another 
 
 oath," Mr. H. often told his friends, "on the whole voyage." 
 
 He once offended some farmers mortally, by saying they were as 
 bad as their very pigs. Several of them were assembled in a 
 house at the bottom of the village, when Mr. Hill happening to 
 pass by, they called him in, and demanded an explanation of his 
 assertion. He immediately consented to give it. "Now r ,"said 
 he, " look at your pigs ; when the acorns drop, they do not go- 
 under the elm in search of them, but under the oak ; and when 
 they have swallowed all they can find, off they go, without giving 
 a single look at the tree which has furnished their meal. So 
 you, like your pigs, know where to look for your wheat and other 
 produce ; and when your barns are filled with plenty, like them 
 you forget to look up to the Source whence all your blessings 
 
70 j. gadsby's memoirs op 
 
 have been obtained." The farmers were pleased with the rea- 
 diness of the preacher, though they did not much relish his homely 
 
 but well-sustained comparison. In begging for charities, 
 
 it is well known that Mr. H. excelled. "A miser," he would 
 often say, "is like a pig, of no use until dead and cut up." 
 " There is," he once exclaimed, "a perpetual frost in the pockets 
 of some people. As soon as they put their hands into them, 
 they are frozen, and unable to draw out their purses. Had I my 
 way, I would hang all misers, but the very opposite of the com- 
 mon mode. I would hang them up by the heels, that their money 
 might run out of their pockets, for you to pick up, and put on 
 the plate." Once, when preaching for a public charity, a note 
 was handed to him in the pulpit, inquiring, if it would be right 
 for a bankrupt to contribute to the collection ? He referred to 
 the inquiry, and answered it firmly in the negative. He then 
 added, "But, my friends, I would advise you who are not insol- 
 vent, not to pass the plate this evening, as the people will be sure 
 to say, ' There goes the bankrupt !' " Like most public men, he 
 was occasionally troubled with anonymous letters. He would 
 occasionally refer to these communications, from the pulpit, and 
 then say, " If you wish me to read these anonymous letters, you 
 must always enclose a £5 note in them, for some good charity." 
 In speaking to tradesmen, he would say, " You are sometimes 
 more in the path of duty in looking into your ledgers, than 
 into your Bibles. All things should be done decently, and in order." 
 Maunder, in his " Biographical Treasury," says, " The numerous 
 tales that are told of his eccentricities should be received with 
 caution ; though it is certain he occasionally illustrated the most 
 solemn truths by observations which savored more of the ludi- 
 crous than the pathetic, more of the grotesque than the serious; 
 yet his intentions were pure and sincere, and he was no less inde- 
 fatigable in his calling as a preacher than he was benevolent as a 
 man. His writings are very numerous, the principal of which is 
 entitled, 'Village Dialogues.' But he was not sparing of wit, 
 humor, or sarcasm, whenever he could make either subservient 
 to his purpose, as was strikingly seen in a satirical pamphlet 
 against the ministers of the Established Church, which he pub- 
 lished anonymously, under the title of c Spiritual Characteristics, 
 
 by an Old Observer. ' " The writer of a work called ' ' The Pulpit," 
 
 in 1810, says, "Mr. Hill gives his text very indistinctly and 
 almost inaudibly. The character of his discourses is generally 
 known — sameness in substance, incoherent in arrangement, whim- 
 sical in illustration, commonly colloquial in language, and abound- 
 ing in strange nights of fancy, and apt but humorous stories. 
 He absolutely labors for his metaphors; and, in his zeal to lower 
 himself to what he conceives to be the aptitude or capability of 
 his audience, he constantly mistakes vulgarity for simplicity. 
 Mr. Hill shall have his praise. Credit let, him take for the species 
 of talent by which he is known in the pulpit. He has the happy 
 knack, if such it is, of immediately arresting the contemplation 
 of the commonalty, and obtaining their attention. Naturally 
 eccentric, he is unequalled in the excitation of religious merri- 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 71 
 
 ment. Perhaps he is the only living preacher, and this he has 
 done, who could make the people smile during a funeral sermon. 
 His stories are uniformly amusing; his jokes are jokes of the 
 heart." Jokes of the heart, indeed! They were home-thrusts. 
 Some of his "jokes " might be by the polite called vulgar; but 
 they were telling. T may give the following anecdote. He 
 was once speaking of hypocrites, when he said, "Snuff-takers, 
 my brethren, usually blow their noses on one side of their hand- 
 kerchiefs, in order that the other side may appear clean. A 
 hypocrite is like one of these snuff-takers' handkerchiefs, with 
 the foul side turned inwards, and the fair side next the company." 
 Mr. H.'s manner of preach r. g was sometimes most energetic, and 
 the power of his voice overwhelming. "Because I am in ear- 
 nest," he once said, when preaching at Wotton-under Edge, "men 
 call me an enthusiast, but I am not ; mine are the words of truth 
 and soberness. "When I first came into this part of the country, 
 I was walking on yonder hill, and I saw a gravel-pit fall in, and 
 bury three human be ; ngs alive. I lifted up my voice for help so 
 loud that I was heard in the town below, at the distance of a 
 mile. Help came, and rescued two of the poor sufferers. No 
 one called me an enthvsiast then; and when I see eternal destruc- 
 tion ready to fall upon poor sinners, and about to entomb them 
 irrecoverably in an eternal mass of woe, and call aloud on them 
 to escape, shall I be called an enthusiast now ? No, sinner, I am 
 not an enthusiast in so doing ; I call on thee aloud to fly for re- 
 fuge to the hope set before chee in the gospel of Christ Jesus," 
 " Sinner/' on another occasion he exclaimed, "you may ramble 
 from Christ, but we will ramble after you, and try and bring you 
 back into his fold." At the moment these remarks were made, 
 a pickpocket entered the chapel. The words powerfully struck 
 his mind, and he went home deeply affected. I might give- 
 many other anecdotes, but I forbear, and refer my reader to a 
 little work by Mr. Sherman, entitled, "A Memorial of the Rev. 
 
 Rowland Hill," from which I have made several extracts. Mr. 
 
 Hill was the last of those ministers who were contemporary with 
 Whiteneld, <fcc. He died April 11th, 1833. When near his end, 
 h-e was asked if he could see his personal interest in Christ ; to 
 which he replied, " I can see more of the personal glory of Christ 
 than of my interest in him." " But you would not give up the 
 hope you have for a thousand worlds V "No, nor for ten thou- 
 sand," he replied; " but I want to he perfectly hoi?/, perfectly like 
 my dear Lord; for without holiness, there is no such thing as get- 
 ting into heaven;" and he then " roused himself, and protested 
 with a strong effort against the dangers of Antinomianism." On 
 the 11th of April, his articulation was all but gone; but such 
 words as these: "Eye hath not seen" Arc, were gathered. He 
 tried to utter the following but could not : 
 
 " And when I'm to die 
 Receive me, I'll cry," Arc. 
 
 ^These," say his biographers, "'were almost the last signs of sensi- 
 bility which he gave;" but his last words were, I believe, " Stink- 
 
72 j. gadsby's memoirs op 
 
 ing Antinomianism ! " He died without a sigh or a groan, and 
 despite all that is recorded of him, I believe has entered into rest* 
 He was a great friend to Sunday schools, to the British and Fo- 
 reign Bible Society, the London Missionary Society, and the 
 London Society for the Conversion of the Jews. In the preface to 
 his selection of hymns, the first edition of which was printed in. 
 1787, Mr. Hill says, alluding to his own, " Some of them are by 
 no means the better for being entirely new." 
 
 Horne (William Wales) was born at Gissing, in Norfolk, in 
 1773. He commenced preaching when about 20 years old, and 
 shortly afterwards settled over a Baptist church at Yarmouth, 
 where he remained about five years, and then went to Leicester. 
 Subsequently, about 1806, he removed to London. His practice 
 was, to give a lecture at 7 in the morning at Limehouse; another 
 at Trinity Hall, Aldersgate Street, at 11; another at Limehouse 
 at 3; and again at Aldersgate Street in the evening, walking 
 about 17 miles. The two churches were united in one a short 
 time before his death, and assembled at Ebenezer Chapel, Com- 
 mercial Road, where he preached until his death. He was afflict- 
 ed with pout, dropsy, and finally consumption. He died July 
 27th, 1826. 
 
 Hoskins (Joseph) was minister of Castle Green Meeting House, 
 Bristol, for ten years. He is said to have had an amazing gift in 
 prayer, and to have been blessed with great boldness as a preacher* 
 He found the church in a low and languid condition; but through 
 his instrumentality, it was raised to a flourishing state. He died 
 Sept. 28th, 1788, aged 43, and was buried in the Baptist Burying 
 Ground, Bristol. His hymns were printed in IV 89, about a year 
 after his death. 
 
 Humphreys (Joseph) was one of the early Calvinistic Methodist 
 preachers. He only wrote a few hymns, all of which were ap- 
 pended to one of Cennick's volumes, in 1743 : which I procured, 
 and sent to the library of the British Museum. He died in 
 London, and was buried in the Moravian Cemetery at Chelsea. 
 
 Huntingdon (Countess of) was the second daughter of Wash- 
 ington, Earl Ferrars. She was born Aug. 24th, 1707. Her 
 maiden name was Selina Shirley. Her mind, even in very early 
 years, was of a serious cast. When only 9 years old, she attended 
 the funeral of a child about her own age, and dated her first 
 serious impressions from that time. In June, 1728, she married 
 the Earl of Huntingdon, whose character is said to have been in 
 the highest degree exemplary; and certainly their union was one 
 of peace and happiness, which continued uninterruptedly until 
 the day of his death. "After her marriage," says the author of 
 her " Life and Times," (a work well worth perusing,) " she mani- 
 fested a particularly serious deportment; and though sometimes 
 at Court, yet in visiting the higher circles she took no pleasure 
 in the fashionable follies of the great. At Donnington Park she 
 was the Lady Bountiful among her neighbors and dependants; 
 though, as she herself afterwards felt and declared, going about 
 to establish her own righteousness, she endeavored, by prayer^ 
 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 73 
 
 and fasting, and almsdeeds, to commend herself to the favor of 
 the Most High. For, notwithstanding the early appearance of 
 religion in Lady Huntingdon, it is evident she continued for many 
 yep.rs a perfect stranger to the true nature of that gospel which is the 
 power of God to every one that believes. She aspired after 
 rectitude, and was anxious to possess every moral perfection. 
 She counted much upon the dignity of human nature, and was 
 ambitious to act in a manner becoming her exalted ideas of that 
 dignity. And here her ladyship outstripped the multitude in an 
 uncommon degree. She was rigidly just in her dealings, and in- 
 flexibly true to her word. She was a strict observer of her 
 several duties in every relation of life. Her sentiments were 
 liberal, and her charity profuse. She was prudent in her conduct, 
 and courteous in her deportment, a diligent inquirer after truth, 
 and a strenuous advocate for virtue. She was frequent ii; ber 
 sacred meditations, and a regular attendant at public worship* 
 Possessed of so many moral accomplishments, while she was ad- 
 mired by the world, it is no wonder that she should cast a look of 
 self-complacency upon her character, and consider herself, with 
 respect to her attainments in virtue, abundantly superior to the 
 common herd of mankind. But while the Countess w T as taken 
 up in congratulating herself upon her own fancied eminence in 
 religion, she was an absolute stranger to that inward and uni- 
 versal change of heart wrought by the gracious operations of the 
 Spirit of God, by which new principles arc established in the 
 mind, new inclinations imparted, and new objects pursued. At 
 length the time arrived for that God, who alone can change the 
 heart, to effect the change in the Countess. 'Whitefield, Ingham, 
 the Wesleys, and the other Methodists, as they were called, to 
 whom were afterwards joined Berridge, Cennick, R. Hill, Romaine, 
 Toplady, &c, had commenced their itinerant labors and were fol- 
 lowed by vast multitudes. The bulk of the church clergy at that 
 time were exceedingly loose in their lives, caring no more for either 
 the souls or the bodies of their parishioners than a stone, while 
 these new parsons, " Methodists," were all animation and earnest- 
 ness, enforcing the claims of a righteous God in his law, and setting 
 forth the awful consequences of sin and the all-suiriciency of the 
 Saviour. Wherever they went, they were as a flame of fire, and 
 left behind them a light which no opposition or wrath of man 
 could extinguish. Through their instrumentality, many even of 
 the church clergy were awakened to a knowledge of their real 
 state before God, and brought to rejoice in the salvation of Jesus. 
 The canopy of heaven was generally the roof under which they 
 preached, and often their congregations amounted to from 10,000 
 to 20,000 persons. Though there was, doubtless, a large amount 
 of wildfire amongst the people, yet, beyond all question, great 
 numbers were savingly brought to God. Conversing with Lady 
 Margaret Hastings one day, the Countess was exceedingly struck 
 with a remark she made, that since she had known and believed in 
 the Lord Jesus for life and salvation, she had been as happy as an 
 angel. To any such sensation of happiness, Lady Huntingdon 
 felt that she was, as yet, an utter stranger. The more she ex- 
 
74 j. gadsby's memoirs of 
 
 amined herself, and considered the subject, the more she was 
 convinced of the momentous truth. This conviction caused 
 many reflections to arise in her mind ; and, beginning also to see 
 her sinfulness and guilt, and the entire corruptions and depravity 
 of her whole nature, her hope of being able to reconcile herself 
 to God by her own works and deservings began gradually to die 
 away. She sought, however, by the most vigorous austerities, to 
 conquer her evil nature, and dispel the distressing thoughts which 
 continually engrossed her mind. But, alas ! the more she strove 
 the more she saw and felt that all her thoughts, words, and works, 
 however specious before men, were utterly sinful before Him 
 who is of purer eyes than to behold iniquity. A dangerous illness 
 having soon after brought her to the brink of the grave, the fear 
 of death fell terribly upon her, and her conscience was greatly 
 distressed. She felt the awful conviction of the certainty and 
 eternal duration of a future state. She now perceived that she 
 had beguiled herself with prospects of a visionary nature ; was 
 entirely blinded to her own real character • had long placed her 
 happiness in mere chimeras and grounded her vain hopes upon 
 imaginary foundations. It was to no purpose that she reminded 
 herself of the morality of her conduct ; and in vain d,d she 
 recollect the many encomiums that had been passed upon her 
 early goodness and virtue. Her best righteousness now appeared 
 to be but " filthy rags," which, so far from justifying her before 
 God, increased her condemnation. The remorse which before 
 attended conscience, on account of sin, respected only the out- 
 ward actions of her life ; but she now saw her " heart was deceit- 
 ful above all things and desperately wicked;" that "all have 
 sinned, and come short of the glory of God," that " the thoughts 
 of man's heart are only evil, and that continually." The day 
 now began to dawn. When upon the point of perishing, in her 
 own apprehension, she was enabled to lift up her heart to God in 
 prayer, when the Sun of Righteousness arose on her benighted 
 soul, and immediately all her fears and distress were removed, 
 and she was filled with joy and peace. Viewing herself as a brand 
 plucked from the burning, she stood amazed at the mighty power 
 of that grace which had saved her from eternal destruction just as 
 she had seemed to be on its very brink, and raised her from the 
 gates of h 11 to the confines of heaven. The depths from which 
 she had been plucked made the heights to which she was then 
 raised only the more amazing. She felt the Rock underneath 
 her, and from that secure position looked with astonishment down- 
 ward to that horrible pit from which she had been so mercifully 
 delivered, and in ecstacy upward to that glory to which she 
 should be raised. From that moment her disorder took a favor- 
 able turn, and she was restored to perfect health. Dr. Southey 
 attributed the change in the Countess's mind to " decided insanity 
 in her family," and there were not wanting some who endeavored 
 to induce Lord Huntingdon to interpose his authority ; but he 
 continued to manifest the same affection for her, and at his death 
 left her the entire management of her children and their fortunes. 
 The Bishop of Gloucester (Benson) was, however, sent for, and 
 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 75 
 
 he attempted to convince her ladyship of the unnecessary strict 
 ness of her sentiments and conduct. But she pressed him so 
 hard with scripture, and so plainly and faithfully urged upon him 
 the awful responsibility of his station, under the great lle;id of 
 the church, Jesus Christ, that his temper was milled, and he 
 rose up in haste to depart, bitterly lamenting that he had ever laid 
 hands on George Whitefield, to whom he imputed, though without 
 cause, the change wrought in her ladyship. .She called him back : 
 " My Lord," said she, "mark my words. When you come upon 
 your dying-bed, that will be one of the few ordinations you will 
 reflect upon with complacence." It deserves remark, that Bishop 
 Benson, on his dying-bed, sent ten guineas to Mr. Whitefield ai 
 a token of his favor and approbation, and begged to be remem- 
 bered by him in his prayers. In 173S the first Methodist Society 
 
 •vas formed, in a plain chapel in Neville's Court, Fetter Lane, Lon- 
 don, being supplied by Whitefield, Ingham, the We-leys, &c. 
 Cennick was then one of the congregation. It was here that Lord 
 and Lady Huntingdon first attended. Sometimes whole nights 
 were spent in prayer, and they were often, as Whitefield said, 
 overwhelmed with the Divine presence, and cried out, " Will God 
 indeed dwell with men upon earth ? This is none other than the 
 house of God and the very gate of heaven !" All these preachers 
 were, as I have already mentioned, members of the Church of 
 England, and for some time seemed to think it impossible that 
 any other class of men could preach. Lady II. was, however, the 
 means of undeceiving them. Through her, one Maxfieid, a 
 layman, commenced preaching, and it is well known to what 
 an extent this lay-preaching amongst the Methodists grew. Mr. 
 J. AVesley was at first greatly vexed at this, but his mother 
 said to him, " John, take care what you do with respect to 
 that young man ; lor he is as surely called of God to preach as 
 you are." Mr. W., finding it was impossible to preve t his fol- 
 lowers from preaching, subsequently " admitted volun eers whom 
 he thought qualified to serve him as sons of the gospel." Some 
 Moravians having joined the Society in Fetter Lane, fatal errors 
 began to be introduced. Some said they had nothing to do with 
 the ordinances ; that they ought to leave off the means of grace, 
 and not communicate, not search the Scriptures, not use private 
 prayer, till they had living faith ; and that no one had any faith 
 who had ever a doubt or a fear, <kc. Lady II. and the Metho- 
 dists now withdrew from them, and the Moravians still have 
 possession of the chapel. The first Methodist Conference was 
 held in June, 1744, in Lady Huntingdon's house. It may not be 
 improper here to remark, that the first Methodist preachers, 
 though educated for the church, finding her rules too contracted 
 for their views, set aside her discipline as to preaching, 
 formed themselves into a society, and began to itinerate, and 
 preached wherever a door was opened. 'Iheir first society was, 
 as I have already mentioned, formed in Fetter Lane, London. 
 They all stricdy adhered to the Articles and Homilies of the 
 Establishment, but gave up the habit of reading their sermons. 
 Speaking extempore, at that time, attracted great attention. 
 
76 J. gadsby's memoirs of 
 
 They were so strict in their outward deportment, and so method- 
 ical in all their meetings, &c. , that the term Methodist was ap- 
 plied to them. The obloquy under which the Countess labored 
 for having joined them was almost incredible, and yet she was the 
 means, under God, of bringing out many others of the nobility. 
 Speaking of that passage of Scripture, " Not many mighty, not 
 many noble are called," she was wont to say, " I bless God that 
 it does not say, 'Not cmyS" Whitefield's preaching excited 
 unusual interest, and wherever he was, there also were Lord and 
 Lady Huntingdon. When the Methodists, with Whitefield at 
 their head, commenced field-preaching, persecution began to in- 
 crease. The thousands and tens of thousands who attended their 
 discourses caused envy and malice to rage. They were called 
 Papists, Jesuits, &c. Some of them were nearly stoned to death, 
 others pelted with mud, others thrown into ponds, others had 
 dogs set upon them, and others (Rowland Hill, for instance,) had 
 serpents thrown at them. They were, in fact, maltreated in 
 every possible way. Their houses were broken open, their 
 furniture destroyed, and, in some cases, their places of meeting 
 demolished. The magistrates, in many instances, refused to in- 
 terfere for their protection, leaving them entirely at the mercy 
 of the mob. Under these circumstances, Lady H. wrote to Lord 
 Carteret, one of the principal Secretaries of State, who laid her 
 letter before the King, George II. The King's reply was, that he 
 " would suffer no persecution on account of religion," and he 
 ordered all magistrates to afford protection. In Ireland a grand 
 jury made the following memorable presentment, which is well 
 worthy the religion of that unfortunate country : " We find and 
 present Charles Welsey to be a person of ill-fame, a vagabond, 
 and a common disturber of his majesty's peace ; and we pray that 
 he may be transported !" Similar presentments were made 
 against eight other Methodist preachers and some respectable 
 citizens of Cork. Through the influence of Lady II., however, at 
 Court, the persecution was stayed. In Wales, Sir W. W. Wynne 
 had fined a number of persons five shillings, ten shillings, and 
 twenty shillings, for preaching, or attending as hearers. Lady H. 
 lost no time in laying the particulars before the Government, and 
 that haughty baronet had the mortification of being compelled to 
 refund all the money. He was shortly afterwards thrown from 
 his horse and killed. Another magistrate in Wales went to hear 
 Howell Harris, taking the Riot Act with him, and being deter- 
 mined to commit him, if he could lay hold of a single opportu- 
 nity. The sermon, however, was blessed to his conversion, and 
 one of his daughters was subsequently married to Charles Wesley. 
 Many instances occurred in which, as Whitefield said, " God of 
 persecutors made preachers;" but it is impossible for me to enu- 
 merate them here. The Countess's house and heart were, at first, 
 open to all who even professed to love the Lord Jesus. No won- 
 der, then, that she should have admitted some vipers into her 
 bosom. Strange indeed would have been her path, had she met 
 with no trials from pretended friends. Some who had stood most 
 in need of her aid, and had received it, were the first to turn 
 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 77 
 
 upon her and rend her. But no trial, no affliction, ever had such 
 an effect upon her mind as the death of her beloved partner, in 
 1746. One or two serious attacks of illness, from this time to 
 1750, tended greatly to relax her elasticity of mind, but her zeal 
 remained unchanged. She made frequent tours with Whitefield, 
 Romaine, Ingham, Venn, etc., into Wales, Lancashire, Yorkshire, 
 and other counties, and attended their held preachings. On one 
 occasion, while Whitefield was preaching in Yorkshire, two per- 
 sons died suddenly near the spot where Lady H. was. White- 
 field's text was, <k It is appointed unto men once to die, and after 
 death the judgment." His manner is described as having been 
 peculiarly solemn. About this time, (1767 — 8,) Lady II. esta- 
 blished her college at Trevecca, in Wales. The students were to 
 be educated and boarded, and to have one suit of clothes a year, 
 for three years. (See Berridge's letter, page 32.) Some students 
 from the college went down to Hull to preach. " Rich and poor," 
 it is said, " thronged the chapel to hear of human depravity, of 
 atonement for sin by the sacrifice of Christ, of justification freely 
 given by grace, of imputed righteousness, and of the Spirit's work 
 in regeneration, sanctification, and comfort." In a subsequent 
 year, some of the students went to America, in a ship which Lady 
 H. had chartered for the purpose. After the Countess's death, the 
 college was removed from Trevecca to Cheshunt, in Hertfordshire, 
 and the power which attended the preaching in Lady H.'s days ap- 
 pears to have been removed also. Thousands of pounds have been 
 left to the college by various persons, since Lady H.'s death. In 
 1762, Lady II. built a chapel at York; one at Lewes, in Sussex, in 
 1765; another in Gloucester about 1770; and another in Worces- 
 ter in 1771-3. Besides these, she had many others which I need 
 not enumerate. They are still in existence, and are called Lady 
 Huntingdon's. In 1756, the Countess visited Brighton. On pass- 
 ing down one of the streets, a lady accosted her, and said, "0 
 Madam, you are come!" Lady H. at first thought she was de- 
 ranged, but said, " What do you know of me?" " Madam," replied 
 the person, " I saw you in a dream, three years ago, dressed just 
 as you appear now, and that you would come to Brighton, and be 
 the means of doing much good." Lady II. was made instrumen- 
 tal in this person's conversion. She died about a year afterwards, 
 in the full assurance of faith. In 1759, W^hitefield visited Brigh- 
 ton, and first preached under a tree in a field behind the White 
 Lion Inn. Amongst the persons called under this sermon was one 
 Edward Gadsby. He lived until 1 785. Mr. Glasscott preached his fu- 
 neral sermon from Ps. xxxvii. 37. 
 
 On one occasion while at Brighton, Lady Huntingdon heard of 
 and visited a poor soldier's wife, who had just given birth to twins. 
 After relieving her temporal needs, for Lady H.'s entire time 
 was spent in going about to do good, temporally as well as 
 spiritually, she conversed with her upon soul matters, her awful 
 6tate by nature and practice, and her certain everlasting punish- 
 ment if she died unrenewed, unpardoned, unwashed in the Saviour's 
 blood; when the poor woman burst into tears, and began to cry 
 for mercy with all the earnestness of which her dying frame was 
 
78 j. gadsby's memoirs op 
 
 capable, and entreated the Countess to visit her again. As their 
 conversation had been overheard by some persons in a bakehouse 
 adjoining, curiosity was excited, and, at the time appointed for the 
 Countess's visit, other women assembled at the soldier's apartment, 
 the numbers continually increasing, until there was quite a large 
 congregation, all women. A blacksmith, however, one day entered, 
 and would not retire. This man was notorious for his profligacy. 
 Lady H. was at first surprised, but determined upon proceeding 
 as though he were not present. The Lord met with him there, 
 broke his heart, and brought him down; and he became a dis- 
 tinguished monument of divine grace. He lived 29 years after 
 this, and died rejoicing in his salvation. In 1761 a chapel was 
 opened at Brighton, which had been built by Lady H., she having 
 sold nearly .£700 worth of jewels towards the cost. This chapel 
 was opened by Martin Madan, who was followed by Romaine, 
 Berridge, Toplady, &c. The seed sown in Brighton, through Lady 
 H.'s instrumentality, certainly produced, and still produces, good 
 fruit. Romaine was one of the Countess's chaplains. " Notwith- 
 standing the basest insinuations," says their biographer, " neither 
 Romaine nor Whitefield was ever one shoe latchet the richer for 
 any service done her ladyship. In 1759, the Countess, accom- 
 panied by Martin Madan, visited John Berridge at Everton. At 
 seven o'clock in the morning after their arrival, Berridge preached 
 in a field near the church, and Madan in the afternoon. "The 
 power of God fell upon the assembled multitudes in a remarkable 
 manner." At 11 o'clock, Mr. Hicks, vicar of Wrestlingworth, 
 read prayers, and Mr. Venn preached ; and in the evening Mr. 
 Madan preached in the open air. On the following day, there were 
 again services in the presence of increased multitudes ; and on the 
 third day no less than ten thousand people assembled, and whilst 
 Berridge was preaching from, "Behold the Lamb of God, who 
 taketh away the sin of the world," five persons sank down at once, 
 almost as dead, and others cried out, with a bitter cry, "What 
 
 must we do to be saved f In 1760, another great trial befel her 
 
 ladyship. Earl Ferrers, eldest son of her uncle, committed murder, 
 and was executed, dying impenitent. Indeed, no poor wretch ever 
 died on the scaffold in a more hardened state. Only half an hour 
 before he was conducted to the place of execution, he corrected 
 some verses he had written in the Tower : 
 
 "In doubt I lived, in doubt I die, 
 Yet stand prepared the vast abyss to try, 
 And, undismay'd, expect eternity." 
 
 His death was as his life had ever been, unhallowed in the extreme. 
 Lady H. visited him in the Tower, but saw in him nothing but 
 the most appalling evidences of a lost soul. When he beheld the 
 crowd assembled before the scaffold, he said, "They never saw a 
 lord hanged, and perhaps will never see another." He peti- 
 tioned the king that he might be executed on the spot where the 
 Earl of Essex, his ancestor, the favorite of Queen Elizabeth, suf- 
 fered in 1601 ; but his petition not being attended to, he said he 
 thought it hard that he must die at the place appointed for the 
 
 
IIYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 79 
 
 execution of common felons ; but there was no respite. There he 
 
 died. When Dr. Doddridge was ordered to go to Lisbon, (See 
 
 Doddridge,) Lady II. sent £100 towards his expenses, and ga- 
 thered about .£300 more from several of the nobility. In a 
 letter which Lady II. wrote to Dr. D. in 1747, she says, 
 
 "I am nothing; Christ is all; I disclaim as well as disdain any 
 righteousness but his. I not only rejoice that there is no wisdom 
 for his people but that from above, but reject every pretension to any 
 but what comes from himself. I want no holiness he docs not give 
 me; and I could not accept a heaven he did not prepare me for. I can 
 wish for no liberty but what he likes for me, and I am satisfied with 
 every misery he does not redeem me from ; that in all things I may 
 feel that without him I can do nothing. To sit at his feet and hearken 
 to his sayings is an honor worthy of Gabriel, who is always in the 
 presence of God ; to behold the glory of such a Saviour, even the 
 seraphs might veil their faces ; such love and honor, I say, as this, 
 ought to make us breathe his praises from pole to pole. Many are our 
 enemies, and of these not only our own sins, but the spirit of that world 
 in which dwells nothing but wretchedness ; but while it is through his 
 love that we are to conquer, let the patience, of his saints be seen in us; 
 let our prayers and labors be useful (instrumentally) in obtaining 
 crowns of pure gold to be placed on the heads of our most cruel foes : 
 that the infinite evil of the worst may serve only to raise our hearts 
 to heaven lor their infinite good. Did we enough take root downward, 
 we should bear of this fruit upwards; 'tis humility must make us 
 ascend by the fiery chariot; that Divine (whom my soul most delights 
 in) shows me my lesson in these few words, 'Learn of me, for I am 
 meek and lowly.' " 
 
 In 1769 the Countess's constitution manifested increasing symp- 
 toms of weakness. Though every aid of medicine was tried, her 
 
 usual health could not be restored. In 1775, Toplady visited 
 
 Lady H., and supplied her chapel at Bath several Sundays. He 
 afterwards preached for her frequently at the Westminster chapel, 
 and in her chapels in Brighton, Wales, <fcc. He was present at 
 the "anniversary" of the college in 1776. Speaking of it in a 
 letter, he says, "The people were supposed to amount to 3,000. 
 No fewer than 1,300 horses were turned into one large field, be- 
 sides what were stationed in the neighboring villages. Six or 
 seven of us preached successively, to one of the most attentive 
 and lively congregations I ever beheld." Speaking of Lady H., 
 in the same letter, he says, "She is the most precious saint of God 
 I ever knew." During this time John AVesley and his im- 
 mediate followers were urging on the people to " sinless perfec- 
 tion." It appears that he had paid a visit to Scotland, but had 
 not succeeded so well there as Whitefield, Madan, and others 
 had done. Whitefield knew that Wesley's doctrines were less 
 likely to succeed in Scotland than in England, and he told Wesley 
 so. Besides, Lady H. was inviting one Calvinistic minister after 
 another to preach for her, while John was being proportionately 
 neglected. The nobility flocked round her ladyship, and John 
 was not one of her chaplains. "For some years," says the 
 biographer, "it became evident to Mr. Wesley and his friends 
 that he was daily declining in the estimation of Lady Hunting • 
 
30 j. gadsby's memoies of 
 
 don, and consequently losing his influence- n But his Connexion 
 and views and Lady Huntingdon's were very different. In a 
 letter to her ladyship he complains of the conduct of Madan, 
 Haweis, Berridge, and Whitefield, who, it appears, could not 
 unite with him, and said, "Romaine only has shown a truly 
 sympathizing spirit, and acted the part of a brother." But w r hat 
 could he expect ? He had cautioned Fletcher, of Madeley, against 
 conversing with them, calling them the "genteel Methodists/* 
 <fcc, and signifying that they were no better than worldlings, 
 unprofitable, <fcc. As to what he said about Romaine, that gen- 
 tleman wrote to Lady H. and said, "Enclosed is poor Mr. John's 
 letter. The contents of it, as far as I am concerned, surprised 
 me, for no one has spoken more freely of what is now passing 
 among the people than myself. * * * A perfection out of 
 Christ — call it grace, and say it is grace from him, yet with me 
 it is all rank pride and damnable sin. * * * I pity Mr. John 
 from my heart. His societies are in great confusion. * * * 
 As the late alarming providence has not had its proper effect, and 
 perfection is still the cry, God will certainly give them up to some 
 more dreadful thing." And so he did, for he left them to publish 
 the doctrine of justification by works. At the Conference in 1770, 
 Mr. Wesley and his followers agreed to the propositions that "if a 
 man is not faithful in the unrighteous mammon, God will not give 
 him the true riches ;" that, "with regard to working for life, every 
 believer, till he comes to glory, works/or, as well as from life ;" that 
 "nothing can be more false than that a man is to do nothing in 
 order to justification;" that, "as to merit itself, we are rewarded 
 according to our works, yea, because of our works,* that is, as our 
 works deserve;" &c. The controversy now commenced in earnest. 
 On the first appearance of the above Minutes of Conference, 
 Fletcher said that Wesley could not maintain his doctrines. Yet 
 strange to say, he (this much-thought-of Fletcher) wrote a de- 
 fence of them, and sent the manuscript to Wesley. In 1771, 
 Lady II. invited the clergy of every denomination to meet the 
 W r esleyan Conference at Bristol, and compel them to revoke their 
 heresies. Much angry correspondence took place prior to the 
 Conference; but the Conference was nevertheless held, and 
 the following agreed upon: "We, the Rev. John Wesley and 
 others assembled in Conference, do declare that we abhor the 
 doctrine of justification by works as a most perilous and abomi- 
 nable doctrine." Nothing could be more contradictory than the 
 two minutes, and yet, can it be believed ? three days after the 
 passing of the latter, which was signed by Wesley and nearly fifty 
 others, Wesley caused Fletcher's vindication of the former mi- 
 nutes (1770) to be printed and circulated ! "I find," said Lady 
 II., " an old monk in France has declared these minutes to be the 
 Pelagian heresy, and that the Church of Rome is nearer to the 
 Church of England than the author of these minutes." Of course 
 such inconsistency could not pass unnoticed; and it was found 
 necessary for Lady H., through Mr. Shirley, to publish an ac- 
 count of the whole affair, including a letter written by Mr. Wes- 
 ley to Lady H., in which he said, " Till Mr. Fletcher's printed 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 81 
 
 letters are answered, I must think everything spoken against 
 these minutes is totally destructive of Christ's honor." Lady H. 
 said she "could no way explain Wesley's letter, except by attack- 
 ing his integrity, or suspecting that his judgment is impaired." 
 The controversy lasted several years. Fletcher replied to Shirley, 
 and Sir Richard Hill replied to Fletcher. Rowland Hill, Ber- 
 ridge, and Toplady, also took the field on one side, and Sellon 
 and Thomas Olivers on the other ; and I think from this time may 
 be dated the distinction, " Calvinistic Methodists," as some still in 
 Wales, and " Wesleyan Methodists." In England a " Methodist" 
 now means an Arminian ; but it was not so when the term was first 
 used ; for Berridge, De Courcy, Toplady, and others of Calvinistic 
 sentiments, were all called Methodists. When certain students 
 were expelled from the College at Oxford, because they favored 
 the Methodists, Wkitefield wrote a letter to the Vice-Chancellor, 
 in which he says, 
 
 "A Methodist is one who professes the sound principles of the 
 Christian religion, and, through grace, practises the duties thereof. It 
 is an honor put upon Methodists, since those that pray extempore, 
 sing hymns, go to church or meeting, and abound in other acts of de- 
 votion, are often denominated by that name." 
 
 Perhaps the ablest works during the whole controversy were those 
 by Toplady, " More Work for John Wesley," Ci Historic Proof of 
 the Calvinism of the Church of England," and " Sermon on Free- 
 will and Merit." (See Toplady, Wesley.) Lady H. had on 
 
 one occasion an interview with George III. and the Queen. The 
 King ever afterwards spoke of her in the highest terms, and would 
 not suffer her or the Methodists to be spoken against, threaten- 
 ing to dismiss any one from his service who dared to interfere 
 with them. The king told her he was no stranger to her pro- 
 ceedings, but he had often found it difficult to obtain an impar- 
 tial account of her. He had, he said, heard so many odd stories 
 of her that he was free to confess he was anxious to see if she 
 were like other women ; and he assured her ladyship that he had 
 a very high opinion of her, and that he highly estimated her cha- 
 racter, zeal, and abilities, which could not be consecrated to a 
 more noble purpose. " I wish," said the King to one of the 
 bishops who had complained about her, " there were a Lady Hun- 
 tingdon in every diocese in the kingdom;" and he afterwards, pro- 
 bably at the instance of Lady H., wrote to the Archbishop of 
 Canterbury, complaining of the halls and festivities which he was 
 
 in the habit of giving and attending. Some of her chapels 
 
 caused Lady H. a great deal of trouble, and the wonder is how she 
 could bear up under such fatigues and anxieties. She left all to 
 Dr. Haweis and his wife, to Lady Ann Erskine, and to John 
 Lloyd, to dispose of as they pleased, having full confidence that 
 they would invest them in trustees, — a step necessary because of 
 the statute of mortmain. In 1786, La y II. was invited to visit 
 Brussels, and had arranged to go on a certain day. Circumstances, 
 however, prevented her reaching London for several day- beyond 
 the time named, when it was discovered that the invitation was a 
 plot laid by the Papists for her assassination. Had she left- at the 
 
82 j. gadsby's memoiks of 
 
 time originally fixed, it would have been before the plot was dis- 
 covered. In 1790, in consequence of the great increase of the Con- 
 nexion, the Countess felt anxious to have some plan adopted for the 
 carrying on thereof after her death ; but her plan, being opposed by 
 those on whose aid she had most calculated, was not carried out. 
 The ministers profess to differ from the Wesleyans by holding the 
 doctrinal articles of the Church of England in their Calvinistic 
 sense; from the Baptists by the administration of baptism to 
 infants, and that by sprinkling or pouring ; from the Indepen- 
 dents in admitting the lawfulness and, in many cases, the expe- 
 diency of using a scriptural liturgy; from the Church of England 
 herself in being free to employ whatever they deem valuable, and 
 to refuse what appears to them objectionable in her services, while 
 they are exempt from that corrupting influence to which she is 
 exposed by her union with the State. Lady H., as I have elsewhere 
 mentioned, always dealt with an unsparing hand to all who stood 
 in need, to the full amount of her income. " I can do," she some- 
 times said, "but very little, and am often obliged to be a spec- 
 tator of miseries which I pity, but cannot relieve. " She once 
 said the Lord had not given her anything, and on being corrected 
 for the remark, which savored of base ingratitude, she said, " He 
 has only lent it to me, and I am determined to repay him." She 
 never forgot a circumstance that was related to her by the daugh- 
 ter of Bishop Burnet. The bishop was once taking a morning 
 walk, when he heard a voice of joy and praise. Drawing nearer 
 to the house whence the voice proceeded, he looked in at the 
 window, and saw a poor woman in the most wretched state of 
 poverty and want that can well be imagined. On a little stool 
 before her, she had a piece of black bread and a mug of cold water. 
 Her hands were raised toward heaven, and she was rapturously 
 exclaiming, "What ! all this, and Jesus Christ too?" "What-! all 
 this, and Jesus Christ too ?" How blessed ! This poor woman had 
 
 literally nothing, and yet possessed all things ! The final season 
 
 came. In Nov., 1790, Lady H. broke a blood vessel. "Her 
 soul," says her biographer, " would have been overwhelmed 
 within her, if she had not had a free Saviour and a, free salvation 
 to lay hold upon, as the gift of God to her as a sinful and polluted 
 creature. Her death-bed peace was not that of a righteous or 
 innocent person, but of a redeemed sinner, — of one who saw her- 
 self to be guilty, condemned, and vile beyond expression, but be- 
 lieved herself complete in Christ." " I confess," she said to a 
 friend, " I have no hope but that which inspired the dying male- 
 factor at the side of my Lord; and I must be saved in the same 
 way, as freely, as fully, or not at all. And as I have always lived 
 the poor unworthy pensioner of the infinite bounty of my Lord 
 God and Saviour Jesus Christ, so I do hereby declare, that all 
 my present peace and my future hope of glory, either in whole 
 or in part, depends wholly, fully, and finally upon his alone 
 merits, committing my soul into his arms unreservedly, as a 
 
 subject to his sole mercy to all eternity." A day or two 
 
 before her last illness, Lady H. said, "The Lord hath been pre- 
 sent with my spirit this morning in a remarkable manner. What 
 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 83 
 
 he means to convey to my mind I know not. J>, may be my ap- 
 proaching departure. My soul is tilled with glory. I am as in 
 the element of heaven itself." She would often exclaim, " I am 
 encircled in the arms of love and mercy;" ' : I long to be at 
 home." A little before she died, she said, " I shall go to my Fa- 
 ther this night." And again, "Can he forget to be gracious? 
 Is there an end of his lovingkindness?" "My work is done. I 
 have nothing to do but to go to my Father." Her strength failed, 
 and she was departing. The vital spark fled, June 17th, 17/1, 
 in the 84th year of her age. She died at her house in Spafields, 
 London, next door to the chapel, and was interred in the family 
 vault at Ashby-de-la-Zouch. * * * I do not know that she 
 ever wrote any hymns ; but she compiled a selection, which was 
 once or twice enlarged, for the use of her connexion. Her 
 •' collegians " have discarded her book, as well as her doctrines, 
 though they stick tenaciously to her endowment. 
 
 Huptox (Job) was a minister at Claxton, Norfolk, for the space 
 of 50 or 60 years, preaching when he was nearly 90, and has only 
 died within these few years. He was a man of exemplary life, 
 and much looked up to and respected in the ministry, lie wrote 
 extensively, both poetry and prose, in the " Gospel Magazine," 
 1803 to 1809. His usual signatures were " Ebenezer," " Eiiakim," 
 "J. H-n." One of his hymns is, 
 
 "Jesus omnipotent to save/ 
 
 Ingham (Benjamin) was born June 11th, 1712, at Ossett, York- 
 shire. He was educated for the Church of England ; but, in 1732, 
 a great change was wrought in his mind, and he joined the Metho- 
 dists at Oxford, then about six or eight in number. In 1735 the 
 society was broken up, and the Wesleys and Ingham went to 
 Georgia, in America. On board the same ship were several 
 Germans, who were missionaries from the United Brethren, 
 (Moravians,) and Mr. I. became attached to them. He went and 
 lived among the Indians for some time, as a missionary, when he 
 learned their language, and subsequently published an Indian 
 Grammar. He returned to England in 1736. In 1737 Count 
 Zinzendorf arrived in England, for the purpose of effecting a 
 union between the Moravian and English churches in Georgia, and 
 Mr. I. subsequently went to Germany, that he might be made 
 better acquainted with the Moravian people and their doctrines. 
 On his return, he joined Whitefield, who had just returned from 
 Georgia. While Whitefield and others of the Methodists were 
 laboring in London, Ingham went to Yorkshire, where he pro- 
 claimed the glad tidings of the gospel. Additions of Church of 
 England clergymen to the Methodists were going on rapidly, and 
 their preaching, as I have elsewhere shown, collected multitudes 
 together. In 1739 Mr. Ingham entered into close communion 
 with the United Brethren ; but Lady Huntingdon, Whitefield, the 
 Wesleys, Arc, would not unite with them. Some time afterwards, 
 however, Mr. I., through the influence of Lady Huntingdon, who 
 reasoned with him on the superstitions and absurdities of the Mora- 
 vians, withdrew from that people, and established several societies 
 
84 J. GADSBY'S MEMOIRS OF 
 
 on the congregational plan. Mr. Allen (see Allen) and the 
 Battys were amongst the more eminent of his preachers. He 
 had several thousand followers, who had left the Church of 
 England. Societies were formed in about sixty places.* In 1759 
 Sandemanianism got amongst Ingham's people, which caused a 
 division ; and since that time those who remained, and their fol- 
 lowers, have been called Inghamites. There are still several of 
 their places existing. Mr. Ingham died in 1772. Pie wrote a 
 work on the Faith and Hope of the Gospel, which has been erro- 
 niously ascribed to Romaine. 
 
 Irons (Joseph) was born at Ware, in Hertfordshire, Nov. 5th, 
 1785. At an early period he was instructed by his father as a 
 builder, and soon afterwards removed to London, being then 
 about 18. He was, he says, surrounded with every temptation, 
 but was led by the Lord to hear Mr. Alphonsus Gunn ; " and while 
 listening to that eloquent and truly faithful preacher of the gospel 
 — a stranger to Christ, to myself, and the minister — the Lord the 
 Spirit directed the arrow into my conscience, and brought me to 
 a saving knowledge of divine truth ;" (I quote his own words ;) 
 u before, a rebel ; now, a repenting sinner 1 that day, that hour, 
 that preacher ! I shall never entirely forget." Mr. I. gives no> 
 other particulars of the first work of grace on his soul. On the 
 death of Mr. Gunn, Mr. I. joined the church under Mr. Griffith, 
 Jones, and he then " first felt a desire to open his mouth for God," 
 (I now quote from his Memoir, published by Collingridge, London,) 
 " and to tell to others what God had done for his soul. Having 
 the love of Gcd shed abroad in his heart, he desired instrumen- 
 tally to convey it to poor sinners around him ; but he felt the 
 weight and importance of such a step ; and, after pausing, and 
 praying, and consulting his dear pastor on this momentous mat- 
 ter, he was led to the conclusion that God had a work for him to 
 do." The first place at which he was requested to preach was a 
 large room over a smith's shop at Dulwich. " Surely," says he, 
 " no man ever felt more of the responsibility of his office than I 
 did at that period. I said, ' Lord, who is sufficient for these 
 things V Little did I think at that time that in the course of 
 years, after preaching in various places, that my roving feet 
 should be directed to Camberwell — that I should, in the order of 
 Divine Providence, in the fulness of time, be the settled pastor 
 of a chapel not then erected, in the Grove, and within two miles 
 of the place where I delivered my first sermon in that hvmhle 
 upper room. How wonderful are the ways of God ! How myste- 
 rious are his leadings ! It must be the right way according to 
 the Divine plan, although to us often a rough path and a cir- 
 cuitous route." He went out under the sanction of the London 
 
 * About 1755 a meeting of ministers and others was held in York 
 shire, at which Mr. Ingham and Lady Huntingdon were present. 
 The ministers came to certain resolutions about justification and 
 sanctification, with which John Wesley could not agree. Ingham 
 would not acknowledge Wesley as his leader, and Wesley never would 
 be reconciled to him afterwards. 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 85 
 
 Itinerant Society, and continued preaching in various villages 
 until 1809, being actively engaged in business during the week, 
 and walking from 10 to 20 miles on the Lord's Day. In 1810 he 
 was removed to Ware, to assist his father in his business. During 
 this and the following year he preached frequently at Watton and 
 other places near Ware ; and on Jan. 1st, 1812, went to the Inde- 
 pendent Chapel at Hoddesdon, ' fc on probation ;" and in May was 
 ordained pastor there. In a few months the chapel had to bo 
 enlarged, and " many sinners were called from darkness into 
 God's marvellous light. " Here he remained until the end of 
 1814, when it became manifest that " his work was done there ;" 
 and, in 1815, he removed to Sawston. In 1817 he visited Bath, 
 Plymouth, and Devonport. While at Plymouth he sent in his 
 resignation to the people at Sawston ; but the cause of this is 
 net stated in the Memoir. In Jan., 1818, he received an invita- 
 tion to preach at Camden Chapel, Camberwell, and went. " The 
 effect produced by the first sermon was marvellous, and the pub- 
 lic excitement prodigious ; so that, on the following Lord's 
 Day, Camden Chapel was thronged to the doors." This visit 
 led to the erecting of Grove Chapel, Camberwell, in which Mr. 
 
 Irons rema : ned as pastor until his death. " For the last five or 
 
 six years, Mr. I. gave ample proof of growing weakness, and of the 
 great pain of body he was called to endure, which was far beyond 
 the conception of any except those who daily visited him ; but, 
 however debilitated he might appear in public, every nerve was 
 there strained for the service of God, the exalting of a precious 
 Christ, entirely regardless of his own ease and comfort. Thus he 
 continued to preach while he could stand ; and when his limbs 
 refused to support his frame, he sat to preach." His agonies 
 sometimes almost deprived him of reason, yet his faculties re- 
 mained until stupor took place. On being visited by a friend a 
 few days before he died, he said, " All is right, my dear brother. 
 I am happy, happy in Christ. I feel that underneath are the 
 everlasting arms. Yes, all is well. Precious Jesus ! How I love 
 him ; how I long to see him as he is !" * * * " I desire to depart 
 and be with Christ, which is far better. I know there is laid up 
 for me a crown of righteousness, and feel fully assured, with Paul, 
 for me to live is Christ,, to die is gain. I long for my crown ; I 
 expect my reward ; all, all of grace." Two or three days after- 
 wards, seeing his wife shedding tears, he said, " Do not weep for 
 me. I am waiting for that far more exceeding and eternal weight 
 of glory. He that has preserved me thus far will never leave you 
 nor forsake you. Fear not ; all is well. Christ is precious. I 
 am a shock of corn fully ripe." After a pause, he said, " Home, 
 blessed home ! Come, Lord, come quickly." The next day his 
 articulation was gone, and he fell into a stupor, which did not 
 leave him until April 3rd, 1852, when his spirit departed. His 
 biographer styles him " the gospel hero of the day," and no doubt 
 many will agree with him ; and even those who differ from them 
 will be willing to make allowance for their belief, as Mr. I.'s people 
 were certainly much attached to. -him. After his death a report 
 prevailed that he had experienced doubts and fears when near his 
 
86 j. gadsby"s memoirs of 
 
 end ; but his biographer takes great pains to show that this was 
 not the case, that he was not like David, Jeremiah, &c. " Our dear 
 friend," says he, " was a stranger to doubts and fears concerning 
 his safety for at least 40 years." But his very next words prove 
 that Irons himself would have told a different tale had his ex- 
 pressions been faithfully recorded ; and indeed the biographer 
 contradicts himself. "It is true," he goes on to say, "that 
 darkness endured for a night, but joy came in the morning," 
 Irons wrote a version of the Psalms, a work in favor of Infant 
 Sprinkling, some Hymns, &c. 
 
 Kelly (Thomas) was the son of Judge Kelly, of Ireland. 
 From a very early age he is said to have had strong impressions 
 of eternity, and to have borne the character of a religious young 
 man. His father had intended him for the bar, but his own 
 mind inclined for the pulpit. He was ordained for the Established 
 Church about the year 1792, and commenced preaching in Dub- 
 lin. He met with great opposition from his relations, not so 
 much, perhaps, from his taking orders as from the doctrines he 
 was led to preach, — -justification by faith alone, and not by works. 
 He often said that to have gone to the stake would have been less 
 a trial to him than to have so set himself against those he dearly 
 loved. Crowds of persons regularly gathered together to hear 
 him. It was then something new to see so much real earnestness 
 in so ycung a minister, and all the churches were closed against 
 him on account of what was termed his " heretical doctrines." 
 After a time he began to entertain scruples about some of the 
 services of the Church, and was led on, step by step, until he 
 seceded from her ranks, and became a dissenter, though he always 
 maintained his belief of her principal doctrines. "His presence, 
 his conversation, his learning," says a writer in the Dublin 
 " Christian Examiner," from which I quote, "were all tending 
 to improve his intercourse with others ; for they felt that they 
 were enjoying the society of one who was c on his way to God.' 
 In society he was learned without pedantry, and religious without 
 asceticism. His attainments in many branches of learning were 
 very considerable, and his accuracy as a scholar was well recog- 
 nised. In the dead and oriental languages he was particularly 
 versed. Music was with him not merely a recreation, but, like his 
 other talents, consecrated to the glory of God. A volume of airs, 
 which he composed for his hymns, contains several that are very 
 popular, not intended indeed for ' effect,' but remarkable for 
 much sweetness and simplicity." " Of his ministry it might be 
 said, that his preaching was excellent and of constant variety, 
 exhibiting mature thought, sound judgment, and eminent faith- 
 fulness." " During the 63 years of his ministry, it has been said 
 of him that he did not seem ever to waste an hour ; and then his 
 language, his temper, his recreations, as well as his severer studies, 
 were all regulated by the same rule, to ' do all to the glory of 
 God.' " " Of all humble men, Mr. Kelly seemed to be amongst 
 the most humble. He derived great comfort from knowing that 
 the Israelites who stood farthest from the brazen serpent might 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 87 
 
 look at it with the same benefit as those who were near." During 
 the famine in Ireland he supported many families at an immense 
 cost, which, it would appear, brought upon him trials that at- 
 tended him to his dying day. " It may be observed that though 
 he did not fear death, yet, from human infirmity, he had a fear 
 of dying, because he imagined that he should suffer great agony 
 at that trying moment. This only led him so much the more to 
 prayer. Prayerfulness marked him out to be one who had re- 
 ceived the spirit of adoption. Indeed, he seemed at this time to 
 live in an atmosphere of prayer. Latterly it might almost have 
 been said of him that he never breathed but he prayed. The 
 writer never saw one so thoroughly a praying Christian. Nor 
 were his prayers disappointed, for his God and Saviour helped 
 him onward. In his humble estimate of himself he would often 
 use such expressions as these : ' Lord, help thy poor creature.' 
 € Thy worm looks for thy help.' c Let him not dishonor thee by 
 impatience.' " While preaching to his congregation in Dublin, in 
 Oct., 18o4, he had a slight paralytic stroke, from which time his 
 weakness increased gradually, but not the less surely. Very little 
 is recorded of his last moments, and less of the first work of 
 grace in his soul, though I have no doubt much might have been 
 written. On one occasion, when near his end, he addressed a 
 friend, saying emphatically, " My great High Priest supports me 
 7low." Another time, when the verse was repeated for him, " The 
 Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want" he said, " The Lord is 
 my everything ." His last articulate words were, " Not my will, 
 but Thine be done." Seeing his approaching dissolution, a friend 
 said to his daughters, who were by his bed, "He is dying," and 
 suggested that they should kneel down and engage in prayer. 
 This they did, though not knowing that their dear father was 
 sensible. He, however, turned his face to the speaker, and when 
 the great Shepherd was besought to support his dear servant 
 through the valley of the shadow of death, he lifted up his eyes 
 to heaven, and in a few minutes breathed his last, so gently that 
 not a sigh escaped him, nor was a muscle of his face moved. 
 How many of the Lord's dear people have been thus favored, who, 
 all their lifetime, through fear of the agonies of death, have, like 
 this dear man, been subject to pangs and bodily bondage. Kelly 
 died May 14th, 1655, aged 86. His hymns are well known. 
 
 Ken (Thomas) was born at Berkhampstead, Herts, in July, 
 1637. He was sent to the Winchester College, and was after- 
 wards elected to New College, Oxon, where he took up his decrees 
 of B.A. 1661, M.A. 1G64, Bachelor of Divinity 167b, and I).D. 
 1679. Some time after this he published his hymns, etc. In 
 1660 he was preferred to the dignity of Prebendary in the Cathe- 
 dral Church of Winton, where he was taken notice of by King 
 Charles II. In 1675 he travelled through Italy, and on his return 
 said he had great reason to be thankful for his journey, since, if 
 it were possible, he was more than ever confirmed of the purity 
 of the Protestant religion. About 167 ( J or lOfcO he was appointed 
 chaplain to the Priucess of Orange, and went to Holland, where 
 
88 j. gadsby's memoirs op 
 
 she was then residing. Here he compelled one of her favorites 
 to fulfil a contract of marriage with a young lady of the princess's 
 train, whom he had seduced by that contract. This zeal gave 
 such offence to the prince (afterwards King William III.) 
 that he threatened to turn him out of the service ; upon which 
 Ken begged the Princess to allow him to resign, and accordingly 
 threw up his office, nor would he consent to return until entreated 
 by the Prince. In 1684 he was appointed chaplain to the king 
 (Charles II.) Upon the removal of the court to Winchester to 
 pass the summer, Ken's house was fixed upon as the residence of 
 the celebrated Nel Gwynne, Charles's mistress ; but Ken positively 
 refused her admittance, which, instead of offending that profligate 
 monarch, he soon afterwards appointed him to the bishopric of 
 Bath and Wells. In 1685 the king died, and James II. ascended 
 the throne. Having been brought up a Papist, he endeavored 
 to re-establish the Popish religion, which Ken opposed, and often 
 preached against it. On one occasion, when the king was absent, 
 Ken's enemies took the opportunity of accusing him to the king 
 for his sermon; whereupon Ken remarked, that "if his majesty 
 had not neglected his own duty of being present, his enemies 
 would have missed this opportunity of accusing him." When 
 the king ordered the famous declaration of indulgence to be read, 
 Ken and six other bishops refused to comply, and were committed 
 to the Tower to take their trial ; but the jury acquitted them. 
 The infamous Judge Jeffries lived at this time, under whom no 
 less than 250 persons were executed. When James abdicated, 
 and the Prince of Orange came over as William III., Ken vacated 
 his see, as he would not swear allegiance to the new sovereign 
 while his former master was living. Ken now removed to Long- 
 leat, in Wiltshire, where he resided in comparative retirement the 
 remainder of his days. He died March 19th, 1710. He was the 
 author of the well-known Morning and Evening Hymns, and of 
 the Doxology, 
 
 " Praise God, from whom all blessings flow." 
 
 Kent (John) was born in the town of Bideford, Devonshire, 
 December, 1766. His parents were amongst the poor of this 
 world, yet "rich in faith." They had a numerous family, for 
 whose support they labored hard ; yet their chief concern, their 
 earnest prayer was, that their souls might be fed with " that 
 bread which endureth unto everlasting life," that so they might 
 become manifestively those whom " God had chosen to salvation, 
 through sanctification of the Spirit, and belief of the truth ;" 
 and they lived to bless God for gracious answers to these supplica- 
 tions, four of their children having been early called to know 
 the Lord, amongst whom was John, the youngest, author of 
 " Gospel Hymns." At the age of 14, he was apprenticed to his 
 father, then a shipwright in the yard at Plymouth Dock (now 
 Devonport). Not having had the advantages of education in 
 early life, and having a thirst for knowledge, he employed the 
 leisure hours of this period in making up for that deficiency, and 
 in cultivating the poetic talent which he possessed. This 
 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 89 
 
 brought him into public notice, though it was not until 1803 that 
 be published the first edition of his Hymn Book. The great 
 mysteries of redemption through the infinite merits and atoning 
 sacrifice of the Lord Jesus Christ was a theme on which he 
 delighted to dwell, which indeed many of his hymns abundantly 
 prove. He possessed much energy of mind and firmness of 
 principle, with peculiar keenness in detecting error, stripping it 
 of the false and deceptive garb in which he found it, and showing 
 it up in all its nakedness and deformity. As a companion, he 
 was cheerful and interesting ; his conversation evidenced much 
 spirituality of mind. Salvation by grace alone was a subject on 
 which he loved to dwell when in the bosom of his family ; and as 
 he spoke of the manifestation of that grace and mercy towards 
 himself, his thoughts would seem too full for utterance, and tears 
 often told the feelings of his soul. In singing the praises of re- 
 deeming love he felt much delight, often speaking of sweet fore- 
 tastes of heaven enjoyed at such seasons. Ijefore he had attained 
 the age of GO years he was afflicted with blindness. Though this 
 was indeed a heavy stroke, yet it was borne by him with great 
 patience, for he was made to feel that it was laid on him by a 
 wise and tender Father. He was now obliged to lay aside his 
 book and pen. Still his mind was vigorous and active, and many 
 of his hymns were written after this, his little grandson having 
 become his amanuensis. About this time he was severely tried 
 by several family bereavements.; yet the Lord mercifully sustained 
 him, and seemed to be preparing him for his own removal. At 
 the close of the year 1843, he was laid low by a disorder of a 
 peculiarly painful and distressing nature, from which he had 
 often suffered, but which now threatened speedy dissolution. 
 For several days he had to endure the most intense agony. Now 
 indeed the time was come when he was to prove the strength of 
 that arm on which he had been leaning through his long pil- 
 grimage ; nor did it fail ! He could say then, with one of old, 
 "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I 
 will fear no evil, for thou art with me." The following are some of 
 the expressions which fell from his lips during the last few days 
 of his earthly existence : " My hopes are fixed on the Rock of 
 Ages." The 27th Psalm having been read to him, he raised his 
 trembling hand, and said, with much feeling, " I can put my hand 
 upon the whole of that." " I am in the arms of everlasting 
 love." " t We must all appear before the judgment-seat of 
 Christ.' That portion has cut me to the heart, while at the same 
 time it has been my hope. If I am to stand by myself to give 
 an account, I am lost, lost for ever ; but it is the judgment-seat 
 of Christ ; and he is my Surety, and has paid all demands. I shall 
 be tried there by a covenant of grace, not a covenant of works ; 
 blessed be God for his great salvation." "I bless God that the 
 promises of the gospel met me in all my wants, wounds, and 
 wretchedness." " I wish to die with ■ God be merciful to me a 
 sinner' upon my lips." The great enemy of souls was now per- 
 mittee' to make a last attack upon him, when he said to his son, 
 u Satan has again thrust sore at me, but I shall triumph. He 
 
90 j. gadsby's memoirs of 
 
 would have me give up my hope, and believe the gospel to be a 
 cunningly- devised fable; but Jesus was tempted; and knows 
 how to succor them that are tempted. Tnis I have expe- 
 rienced. He has been my defence." " It is indeed a consoling 
 thought that most probably a few short hours will terminate my 
 sufferings." " The war with Amalek will soon be over." His 
 fightings and fears appeared to be past. He extended his hand, 
 cold with the chill of death, and exclaimed, " I rejoice in hope ; 
 I am accepted — accepted !" He then, like the Patriarch Jacob, 
 gathered up his feet in the bed, and fell asleep in Jesus, on the 
 "15 th of November, 1843, aged 77. 
 
 Eirkham. — The only hymn that I know of by Kirkham is, 
 
 "How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord." 
 
 It was taken from Rippon's Selection, and was most likely written 
 by some friend of that name, expressly for Rippon's book. 
 Alexander Fletcher, in 1822, calls it Keen's ; but Rippon pub- 
 lished in 1787, and is, therefore, far more likely to be correct. 
 
 Langford (John) was connected with the early Methodists. 
 He had been in Dr. Gilford's Church, Eagle Street, London, and 
 went to Blocksfields in 1765, where he remained about 12 years, 
 and then went to Rose La::e, Ratcliff, for a few years. Thence 
 he removed to a small place in Bunhill Row, but ultimately gave 
 up preaching. He preached a sermon on the death of Whitefield, 
 and died about 1790. The hymn commencing, 
 
 "Now begin the heavenly theme," 
 
 has been universally ascribed to this author ; but his hymn book 
 is now before me, and that hymn is not distinguished as his, 
 though, in the preface, he says he has marked those which were 
 composed by himself. Indeed, as his book was not published 
 until 1783, and as I find the hymn in Madan's Selection 14 years 
 earlier, I think the point is settled. I believe that the hymn is 
 Madan's. 
 
 Langley (John Henry) was one of the early Calvinistic Metho- 
 dist preachers. His hymns were dedicated to the Countess of 
 Huntingdon, in 1776, and entitled, " Sacred Hymns for the 
 Children of God, as they journey to their Rest above." He died 
 Jan. 1st, 1792, aged 39. 
 
 Mad an (Martin) was born in 1726. He was the founder and 
 first chaplain of the Lock Hospital, near Hyde Park Corner, and 
 was celebrated for his writings and as a popular preacher in the 
 chapels of Lady Huntingdon. He wrote some excellent letters 
 to Dr. Priestley on the Trinity. Like many others, his conver- 
 sion arose from circumstances apparently trivial. The preaching 
 of the first Methodists had excited universal attention, and roused 
 many from the torpor of indifference. Mr. Madan, being in com- 
 pany one evening with some of his gay companions at a coffee- 
 house, was requested by them to go and hear Mr. Wesley, who, 
 they were told, was to preach in the neighborhood, and then to 
 return and exhibit his manner and discourse for their entertain- 
 
 
HYMX-AVIUTERS AND COMPILERS. 91 
 
 ment. lie went with that intention, and just as he entered the 
 place, Mr. Wesley named as his text, " Prepare to meet thy God I" 
 with a solemnity of accent which struck him, and which inspired 
 a seriousness that increased as the minister proceeded. Here- 
 turned to the coffee-room, and was asked by his accpiaintances, 
 u if he had taken off the old Methodist." To which he answered, 
 " No, gentlemen, but he has taken me off." From that time he 
 withdrew from their company altogether, and associated with 
 those only whose faces appeared to be Zion-ward. He was a 
 person of independent fortune. His brother was Bishop of 
 Peterborough ; but Madan never would accept of any emolument 
 in the church. Owing to his religious sentiments, he had some 
 difficulty in obtaining orders, but succeeded through Lady Hun- 
 tingdon's influence. He was soon afterwards appointed chaplain 
 to the Lock Hospital, London, and for some time used to preach 
 from a desk in the parlour to the poor inmates. Mr. Romaine 
 and Dr. Haweis frequently assisted. The hospital at last became 
 a stated place of worship, and a church was built. Madan saw 
 so much of the seduction of the female sex, and the ruin that 
 followed, that he was induced to write a work called Thelyphthora, 
 in favor of polygamy. From that time he lost his friends, and 
 but little is heard of him. He died in 1790. I believe the 
 hymns, 
 
 " Come, thou Almighty King;" (35) 
 •* Now begin the heavenly theme ;" (00) 
 " Lord, dismiss us with thy blessing ;" (461) 
 " Paschal Lamb, by God appointed;" (931) 
 " Lord, if thou thy grace impart ;" (1058) 
 
 also the last two verses of, 
 
 " Lo ! He comes, with clouds descending ;" (403) 
 
 are Madan's, as I can find no trace of them in any selection 
 earlier than his, 1760 and 1769 ; though he docs not distinguish 
 his own from others.* 
 
 Masox (Joiix) was Rector of Water-Stratford, Bucks, for twenty 
 years. His hymns are entitled, " Songs of Praise, with Peniten- 
 tial Cries to Almighty God." He was the father, that is, the 
 earliest of hymn writers. Dr. Watts borrowed some of his lines 
 from him. He died in 161)4. That well-known verse is his : 
 
 " Mercy, good Lord, mercy I ask." 
 
 Matlock (John) lived in the 18th century. His hymns are 
 entitled, " Hymns and Spiritual Songs, composed, collected, and 
 published by the Rev. John Matlock, Minister of the Gospel. 
 Sold at the Meeting House in Well Street, near Wellclosc Square. 
 Second edition, 1774." The 1st edition was in 1767. In the 
 
 * The Nos. affixed refer to Gadsby's Selection. Hymn 35 was issued 
 by Madan in 17G4; 00 has been called Langford's ; (see Langford ;) 
 461 Toplady 8, but Madan published it six years earlier than Toplady; 
 931 Bakeweli's; 1058 Charles Wesley's, but it did not appear in 
 
 Wesley's Select H)iims until a year after it was published by Madan. 
 
92 j. gadsby's memoirs op 
 
 second part, printed in 177>, he is described as minister of Rose 
 Lane Chapel, Ratcliff, (London.) I believe he wrote the hymn, 
 
 " What is this world to me ?" 
 
 Medley (Samuel) was born at Cheshunt, in Hertfordshire, on 
 the 23rd of June, 1738, and was educated under his grandfather, 
 Mr. Tonge, at Enfield. About the age of 14 he was apprenticed 
 to an oilman in London ; but this calling does not appear to have 
 suited his active turn of mind, and he resolved to quit it as soon 
 as possible. Accordingly, when the war broke out in 1755, 
 amongst other offers held out as an inducement for young men to 
 enter into the navy, there being one that apprentices might finish 
 their time in the king's service, he resolved to leave his master, 
 and turn sailor ; so he entered as midshipman on board the Buck- 
 ingham, 74-gun ship. His two brothers were already at sea. 
 His father and grandfather did all in their power to divert him 
 from his purpose, but without avail. At sea he strove to excel, 
 and soon gained the esteem of the captain and officers, the former 
 of whom, it seems, had also been educated under Mr. Tonge. 
 From the Buckingham, Mr. Medley, with the captain and officers, 
 was removed to the Intrepid, another 74-gun ship, on board of 
 which he was made master's mate ; and soon after sailed with a 
 squadron under the command of Admiral Boscawen. Their des- 
 tination was the Mediterranean, where they were stationed three 
 years, off Gibraltar, Cadiz, &c. Here he had an opportunity of 
 seeing much of the world and mankind ; nor did he fail making 
 such observations as were afterwards profitable to him through 
 life, though at this time, it appears, he was in the zenith of his 
 profaneness. How often, looking back to this period with con- 
 trition and gratitude, has he mentioned the awful lengths he was 
 permitted to run, and how much he was under the power and 
 dominion of his corruptions, being at the greatest possible dis- 
 tance from God, and utterly averse to every serious reflection that 
 might occasionally intrude upon his mind ! Possessing a consi- 
 derable share of classical learning, great wit, a fine constitution, 
 and an unbounded flow of spirits, he was at once the life of the 
 giddy circle in which he daily associated, and was universally 
 prized as a companion in mirth. This lively and volatile turn of 
 mind, he many times said, was at this time his greatest snare, 
 and led him into more evil than any other temptation. Thus 
 flattered and caressed by his light and profligate companions, he 
 gave full scope to his reigning propensities ; acknowledging that 
 he had neither the fear of God nor man before his eyes. But, 
 though lost to every serious impression, he was not totally with- 
 out some flashes of conviction, which, in spite of all his mirth 
 and jollity, would sometimes cast a momentary damp upon his 
 pleasure. As an instance of this, he one day, in the height of his 
 profaneness, casting his eyes on a favorite dog belonging to the 
 captain, that lay by his side, suddenly wished he was that dog, 
 that he might have no soul to be saved. Though he had no 
 religion himself, he evinced the most thorough contempt for the 
 gross superstitions he beheld while in Spain. During his service 
 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 93 
 
 he was engaged in several actions, but the most important, and 
 the last, was the battle fought off Cape Lagos, on the 18th Aug., 
 1759, under Admiral Boscawen. This was a hard-fought and 
 
 obstinate engagement, and the slaughter of the enemy, owing to 
 their custom at that time of crowding their ships with men, was 
 particularly affecting. On board of many of the French ships 
 they stove in their barrels of flour, to absorb the blood that flowed 
 on their decks, in order to prevent the sailors from slipping-. 
 The station which Mr. Medley occupied during this action was OE 
 the poop, where he had a table and chair to take the minutes. 
 From this elevated situation he had not only an opportunity of 
 observing every circumstance that happened on board the Intrepid, 
 but could perceive the enemy drop as they were killed or wounded, 
 the action was so c-.ose. Thus surrounded by death, and in the 
 most imminent danger, he has often said he was so callous that he 
 had neither fear nor care. The first thing that startled him was ob- 
 serving a shot shiver the mizenmast, while the captain, first 
 lieutenant, and master, were conversing together, the former 
 leaning with his arm against the mast. None of them, however, 
 were materially hurt. A scene that affected him still more was 
 that of a wounded marine, carried off the deck by his comrade, 
 to go to the surgeon ; but, while at the top of the ladder, a shot 
 taking the man in the bowels who bore his wounded companion 
 on his shoulders, they both instantly fell down into the hold toge- 
 ther. Not long after this, the master, turning himself round, 
 cried out, " Mr. Medley, you are wounded." On his looking down 
 and seeing a quantity of blood, and the muscles of his leg torn, 
 his spirits felt a damp for the tirst time. Being a wound of such 
 a nature as required immediate assistance, owing to the loss of 
 blood, great part of the calf of the leg being shot away, he rose 
 from his seat and walked down to the surgeon. The action con- 
 tinued some time after, but ended with the utmost success on the 
 side of the English. Poor Medley was now entirely incapacitated 
 from attending to his duties, and was ordered to keep his bed. 
 His wound grew daily worse, until at length the surgeon informed 
 him there was every appearance of gangrene, and that he feared 
 the only means of saving his life was amputation, which must be 
 finally determined by the state of the wound next ruornmg. This 
 was sad news to him, and he at once began to think seriously. 
 He called to his mini the education and advice he had had, and 
 the prayers that had been offered up on his behalf by his father 
 and grandfather. Considering his case as desperate, " it occurred 
 to his mind," (I quote from his Life, as written by his son,) 
 " that prayer to God must be his last resource ;" and accordingly 
 he prayed " very fervently for the restoration of his limb and the 
 preservation of his life," for at that time he seemed not to be in 
 much trouble about his soul. lie also recollected having seen a 
 Bible, which some one, perhaps his father, had put in his chest ; 
 and, though he had never opened it before, he ordered his servant 
 to fetch it, and, like many others when sick, began to read it with 
 avidity. The next morning, on the wound being examined, the 
 surgeon, lifting up his hands, exclaimed that the change was little 
 
94 J. GADSBtf'S MEMOIRS OF 
 
 less than a miracle. Pleased at this unexpected event, Medley 
 did not fail to set it down as an answer to his prayers, and began 
 to think that there was something real in religion after all. All 
 this wore off, however, as his wound healed. The fleet being 
 ordered home, Medley was permitted to leave the service until he 
 was perfectly restored, and to return or not as he pleased ; but, 
 flushed with the thoughts of so signal a victory, he made up his 
 mind he would not leave the service until he was made an admi- 
 ral. He was now carried to the house of his grandfather, Mr. 
 Tonge, who had then left Enfield and was residing in London, 
 Here he was compelled, much against his will, being confined to 
 his room for many months, to hear many a faithful admonition 
 and many a solemn warning ; and this became so irksome to him 
 at last that he grew impatiently anxious to be released. His 
 wound being nearly healed, he began to lay his plans for returning 
 to the service ; but God had laid his plans, and poor Medley's 
 were soon brought to nought. Being anxious to know, one Lord's 
 Day evening, if his grandfather were going out to worship, he 
 inquired of the servant, who told him that Mr. Tonge was going 
 to read a sermon to him. " Read a sermon to me !" exclaimed 
 Medley; "he had better be anywhere else." However, he had 
 sufficient prudence to maintain a respectable deportment in the 
 presence of the old gentleman. The sermon read was one of Dr. 
 Watts's, from Isa. xlii. 6, 7. Medley at first listened with his 
 usual indifference, but when the sermon touched upon those parts 
 about opening the blind eyes, <fcc, he listened with eagerness, 
 for every sentence described his own case, and every word sank 
 deep into his heart. Convinced of his awful state as a sinner 
 before God, and the imminent danger he was in as such, with a 
 heart broken under a sense of his guilt and impenitence, and the 
 astonishing forbearance of God towards him, he fell down before 
 the Lord, as soon as he was alone, and spread before him his 
 mournful, dangerous case. He was now soon able to go out, and 
 often went to hear Whitefield, Gifford, &c. It does not appear 
 that he was kept long in bondage, but " soon received the com- 
 forts of the gospel, by a believing view of the fulness and suffi- 
 ciency of the atonement of the Lord Jesus." His father just 
 survived long enough to see his earnest petitions answered on 
 behalf of his then only child, for both Medley's brothers had been 
 lost at sea. Medley now gave up all thoughts of the navy, though 
 he had been promised a lieutenant's commission. In Dec, 1760, 
 he joined Dr. Gifford's church, in Eagle Street, London, and about 
 the same time opened a school near the Seven Dials. In April, 
 1762, he married, and removed to King Street, Soho, where his 
 school rapidly increased. In 1766, Dr. Gifford, having formed 
 ideas of Medley's gifts for the ministry, questioned him on the 
 subject, when he confessed it had been for some time on his mind, 
 though he was greatly surprised at the interrogation, never having 
 said a word upon the subject to any person whatever. He was 
 soon afterwards heard by the church, and by them called to the 
 work. His first labors were in the neighborhood of London ; 
 but in June, 1767, he accepted a call from the Baptist church at 
 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 95 
 
 Watford, Herts, where he remained until 1772, when he removed 
 to Liverpool. Here his congregation increased so rapidly, that, 
 in the following year, the chapel had to be enlarged, and in 1789 
 the new chapel in Byrom Street was erected. For a number of 
 years he went annually to London, and preached in White-field's 
 places, (the Tabernacle and Tottenham Court Road Chcapel,) anc 
 had the pleasure of invariably finding that his labors were no- 
 only acceptable, but owned and blessed to many. The genera 
 scope of his ministry was " to humble the pride of man, exak 
 the grace of God in his salvation, and promote real holiness in 
 heart and life." For some years Medley's health began to de- 
 cline ; but it was not until Oct., 1798, that he was attacked with 
 the first symptoms of the disease which terminated his death. 
 Being engaged as usual to pay his annual visit to London, he 
 thought the journey might, as before, be beneficial to his health ; 
 but, on his arrival there, jaundice began to make its appearance, 
 so that he was obliged for some time to give up preaching, and it 
 was doubtful whether he would be able to return to Liverpool. 
 This, however, he was sufficiently recovered to do, in January, 
 1799, and on the fol' owing Lord's Day preached twice. He was 
 now again laid by until Easter Sunday, when he preached his last 
 sermon, his text being Deut. viii. 2. His complaint increased 
 until it terminated in a confirmed dropsy, and all hope of recovery 
 was given up. During his illness, he mourned much on account 
 of the loss of sensible comforts, and marked off the following 
 passage in Mr. Dorney's works, — a book to which he was much 
 attached: " Inward peace and rejoicing. Have been much 
 bruised for certain days by weakness, guilt, and distraction, that 
 have seized my heart. There they lie like a mountain of lead. 
 When my thoughts would turn inward, I hear nothing but outcries 
 of guilt and accusation possessing my heart. I can find no shelter 
 at home. I am forced abroad for lodging, company, and food. 
 My heart is grown hard, dark, and weak. It prevails against my 
 former sense of the Divine presence, and while it is thus filled 
 with the clamors of death and confusion, methinks I hear the 
 Spirit of the Bridegroom say, c Come, arise, this is not your rest. 
 Launch forth into the ocean of free grace, and let not thy expec- 
 tation hanker towards thyself. Though thy flesh fail, and thy 
 heart fail, God is the strength of thy heart, and thy portion for 
 ever.' " During this trial he sometimes would say, he fe -red he 
 had only been instrumental in the salvation of others as a scaffold 
 to the building, which, when completed, is taken down, as of no 
 farther use. He was, it seems, in a very dark state of mind, and 
 very unwilling to be torn from his friends. It was, he would say, 
 " like tearing up an old tree by the roots. None knew how far 
 they extended, or how firmly they grasped the earth, till they 
 were likely to be torn up.'' This dejected frame, however, did 
 not continue long. He was again led to view God " as faithful 
 to his promise, unchangeable in his nature, and ever mindful of 
 his word of truth, on which he had caused him to hope ; and he 
 would often say he found peculiar satisfaction in waiting for God." 
 The invitation of the gospel, " Come unto me, all ye that labor," 
 
96 J. GADSBYS MEMOIRS OP 
 
 &c., often cheered him. " Blessed are they that hunger and 
 thirst after righteousness ;" " and blessed be God," he would say, 
 "I do hunger and thirst after righteousness." He frequently 
 looked back and spoke of his early experience, recalling with 
 gratitude and pleasure the wonderful train of providences by 
 which he had been led, and the more wonderful effects of divine 
 grace on his heart, the comfort of which he was again beginning 
 to taste ; and he was also sometimes much revived by the conver- 
 sation of his friends, forgetting all his pains the while. In his 
 conversation he seldom omitted mentioning, with peculiar sweet- 
 ness, the work of the Holy Spirit, and thankfully acknowledging 
 his power in quickening and comforting his soul. As his bodily 
 infirmities increased, the gloom and darkness under which he had 
 labored were dispelled, and his confidence and comfort in God, as 
 his covenant God in Christ Jesus, were strengthened ; and all that 
 he said or wrote proved that his hopes were full of immortality. 
 On Monday, the 15th, one of his daughters coming into his room 
 to inquire how he had rested, he said, " I have had as comfortablo 
 a night's rest as ever man had." But he was soon after seized with 
 a shivering fit, which produced a great change in him. He also 
 complained of a violent pain he felt in one of his feet, which he 
 apprehended to be the gout. As the pain increased, it was soon 
 discovered that his foot and leg were inflamed to a very great 
 degree. The physician being immediately sent for, and observing 
 his situation, soon announced to his disconsolate family and 
 friends the near prospect of his dissolution. The inflammation 
 proving, as was feared, the forerunner of a mortification, pain, 
 disease, and extreme restlessness, were now experienced by him 
 with increasing violence. During his illness he suffered greatly* 
 Sometimes he would cry out with pain, " What shall I do ?" and 
 would then pray earnestly that he might be kept from murmur- 
 ing. He often complained of the depravity of his nature, adding, 
 " What a mercy it is that I am not left to myself I " and then 
 cried out, 
 
 " Why was I made to hear thy voice ?" &c. 
 
 Some of his friends, on one occasion, coming in, he said to them, 
 " You see me now on my dying bed; and a sweet bed it is to me. 
 What mercies am I now enjoying in it! Thanks be to God, I 
 have now little or no pain. With respect to myself, I am full 
 of comfort and consolation, and able yet to recollect God's 
 precious word. The promises are like an army of soldiers; 
 when I have done with one, another suitable portion presents 
 itself. I never saw so much of my own unworthiness, or so 
 much of the excellency, glory, and suitableness of Christ, as an 
 all-sufficient Saviour. I would wish, had I strength, to speak 
 of him till I die; particularly to my young friends, whom I 
 always loved to address." He then said, " What a mercy it is, 
 that I have been so free! from worldly cares, and that I have 
 had so little to do with temporal concerns for so long a time. I 
 have had such confidence in the connections that God has given 
 me, that I could cheerfully resign everything into their hands 
 but my soul. Truly goodness and mercy have followed me all 
 
 

 HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 97 
 
 the days of my life, and now I am going to dwell in the house 
 of the Lord for ever. I have had more than heart could wish, 
 oven of outward blessings." "As to my sentiments," he con- 
 tinued, " I am no ways altered. The doctrines I have preached, 
 I am fully persuaded are of the truth. They are now the sup- 
 port and consolation of my mind. That Jesus whom I have so 
 long recommended to poor sinners, is my only comfort in my dying 
 hours. His salvation is every way perfect and complete. Re- 
 member ! I die no Arminian, Socinian, or Arian. I die a poor 
 sinner, saved by sovereign, rich, and free mercy." " I am now 
 a poor shattered bark, just about to gain the blissful harbor; 
 and how sweet will be the port after the storm!" " But a 
 point or two more, and I shall be at my heavenly Father's house." 
 After recovering from a fainting fit, he said, " I am thinking on 
 the laws of gravitation. The nearer a body approaches to its 
 centre, with the more force it is impelled; and the nearer I ap- 
 proach my dissolution, with the greater velocity I move towards 
 It." A friend who stood by said, " Dear Sir, Christ is your 
 centre." "Yes, yes;" he replied, "he is, he is." In another 
 visit from this valuable friend, he said, " It is hard work to pull 
 up an old tree by the roots. My clear family, my relation to 
 the church of Christ, over which I have been so long time an 
 unworthy pastor, and my numerous connections, are like so many 
 strong roots in the earth." But some time after he added, 
 " They are all got up, and this world is now nothing to me. I 
 long to depart, and to be with Christ, which is far fetter." On 
 being asked if he wanted anything, "Want!" he replied, "I 
 want heaven and eternal glory!" At two o'clock in the morning 
 of July 17th, his sufferings were intense and his struggles violent ; 
 and he cried out, " Help me, help me! One grain of creature 
 mercy, Lord, one grain /" But in a little time the attack was 
 over, and he calmly said, " I wait for the Lord; my soul doth 
 wait, and in his word do I hope," laying a peculiar emphasis on 
 the last sentence. Pushing the bedclothes away, he exclaimed, 
 " Take it away; take all the world away, all but Christ!" When 
 he saw his children weeping around him, he said, " For shame ! 
 Why will you weep? Am I not in my own almighty Father's 
 hands ? and he will take care of your old father." Frequently 
 his struggles were very violent, and he would then soy, " Take 
 courage, my soul ! Why art thou cast down ?" Once, when 
 greatly agitated, he said, "It is hard work !" and he again cried 
 out, "One grain of creature comfort, Lord, one grain!" Then 
 lying more composed, he said, "Well this is a mercy!" His 
 children now asked, " Do you know us, dear father V With 
 great earnestness he replied, "Know you! Yes, sure I do." 
 He then took a most affectionate leave of them all, and of several 
 friends who surrounded his dying bed. Being asked, " What shall 
 we say for you to the absent part of the family ?" mentioning their 
 names, he replied, " Say, my dear ovc to them, and tell them 
 I am going home in peace to my dear Jesus." About 6 o'clock 
 in the evening, he said, " Dying is sweet work ! sweet work! my 
 heavenly Father ! I am looking up to my dear Jesus, my 
 
98 j. gadsby's memoirs of 
 
 God, my portion, my all in all," and then with a dying voice con- 
 tinued, "Glory, glory! Home, home I " And in about half an 
 hour afterwards he died, without a struggle or a groan, July 17th, 
 1799. * * * Since his death, the chapel in Byrom Street, 
 Liverpool, which is one of the largest in the kingdom, has had 
 a variety of ministers, each succeeding one appearing to lessen 
 the number of hearers, until there were not half as many people 
 as pews. Some years ago, a few who had left Mr. Kent's chapel, 
 joined the people at Byrom Street, and fixed upon Mr. Giles for 
 their minister. On Mr. Giles leaving, Mr. M'Kenzie frequently 
 supplied; but the chapel was so large that, though the gallery 
 was entirely closed, the people seemed almost lost. The London 
 and North Western Railway Company having to tunnel under 
 a portion of the chapel, they were required to purchase the 
 building, from the proceeds of which the new chapel in Shaw 
 Street was erected, in which Mr. M'Kenzie had just commenced 
 
 his labors when he was taken from the church by death. Many 
 
 of Medley's hymns were inserted in the Protestant Dissenters* 
 Register and other old periodicals, but they were not published 
 in a volume together until after his death. Medley was a faithful 
 servant of God, though somewhat eccentric. His texts were 
 often quaint. For instance, he would sometimes preach a sermon 
 from a single w r ord, such as "but" (1 Cor. vi. 11,) " not" (John 
 xiv. 27,) but his sermons were never tiresome, though he often 
 divided and subdivided into many heads. On one occasion, w r hen 
 a chapel at Rochdale was to be opened, Medley had to preach at 
 night, and other ministers in the morning and afternoon. The 
 subject in the morning was reconciliation, and in the afternoon 
 the text was, " Compel them to come in." Poor Medley was 
 very uncomfortable under both discourses, as he did not consider 
 that the ministers w T ere preaching in an acceptable way. So un- 
 comfortable was he that he made up his mind he would not preach 
 at night. He was prevailed upon, however, to forego this reso- 
 lution. The singers had prepared a select piece, " Faint, yet 
 pursuing " with music, (a practice much followed in the country 
 towns in the North of England,) and Medley sat in the pulpit 
 listening, until he could endure it no longer. He then turned to 
 the singers and musicians, and exclaimed, "And what do you 
 call that ? " They were immediately silenced, and sat down* 
 Medley then got up, and said, " I'll tell you what, friends; what 
 with reconciling, and what with compelling, and what with pur- 
 suing, the devil has had a rare day of it ! " 
 
 Montgomery (James) was born Nov. 4th, 1771, and resided at 
 Sheffield. He was, I believe, a Moravian, but not a minister. 
 He wrote many miscellaneous poetical pieces, and his prose works 
 have been recently published. He died April 30th, 1854. The 
 hymn, 
 
 " Jesus, we our cross have taken," 
 
 has been ascribed to him; but it w T as written by a clergyman 
 named Lyte, who lived in the south of England; for account of 
 whom see Appendix. 
 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 99 
 
 Mote (Edward) was born in Upper Thames Street, London, 
 Jan. 21st, 1797, and, to use his own words, " re-born in Totten- 
 ham Court Chapel, under John Hyatt, in 1813. My parents having 
 no fear of God, I went to a school where no Bible was allowed; 
 so that I was totally ignorant of the word of life when I entered 
 that place of worship ; but though I knew not the letter of the 
 law, the Holy Ghost brought the spiritual contents of it into my 
 conscience that morning. For two years that dart was in my 
 liver, till extracted by Calvary's blood, under a sermon by Mr. 
 Bennett, of Birmingham, who was on a visit to London, one Good 
 Friday morning, from ' The Lord hath laid upon him the iniquity 
 of us all ;' and from that auspicious hour to the present, precious 
 blood has been the solace of my mind." His hymns were first 
 published in 1836, and entitled, Hymns of Praise. The one com- 
 mencing, 
 
 ' ; My hope is built on nothing less," 
 
 is one of them, though it has been called J. Rees's. Mr. M. is 
 still (1855) living. 
 
 Needhah (John) resided at Bristol. He was chosen co-pastor 
 at the chapel in the Pithay, Bristol, about 1746 or 1747, with a 
 Mr. Bedham. In 1752 Mr. N. was violently cast out of his 
 office, and went to Callowhill. His hymns were printed at Bristol, 
 1768. I have not met with any account of his death. 
 
 Newton (Jons) was born in London, July 24th, 1725. He was 
 an only son. His mother, to whom he was particularly attached, 
 herself taught him English, and that in such a way that, added 
 to his own natural talents, by the time he was four years old, he 
 could read any common book with propriety. She died before 
 he was seven years of age, and he was then left to run wild, as is 
 the case with too many children. His father married again the fol- 
 lowing year, and Xewton was afterwards sent to a boarding-school 
 in Essex. His father was then at sea, a commander in the Mediter- 
 ranean trade. When 11 years old, his father took him with him 
 to sea. In 1742 he was placed, with very advantageous prospects, 
 at Alicant, in Spain, but his unsettled behavior and impatience 
 of restraint rendered that design abortive. He had very little 
 concern about religion, but was often disturbed with convic- 
 tions. " I was," he says, " fond of reading from a child; among 
 other books, Bonnet's ' Christian 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 Scriptures, and keep 
 a sort of diary. I was presently religious in my own eyes ; but, 
 alas ! this seeming goodness had no s lid foundation, 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 from under my parent's view. All this was before I 
 was 12 years old. About that 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 
 
100 J. gadsby's memoirs op 
 
 notice of a gracious Providence in my deliverance; for, had I 
 fallen upon the stakes, I had inevitably been killed. My con- 
 science suggested to me the dreadful consequences 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 conse- 
 quence was, that every relapse sank me into still greater depths 
 of wickedness. I was once roused by the loss of an intimate 
 ■companion. We had agreed to go on board a man-of-war (I 
 think it was on a Sunday) ; but I providentially came too late. 
 The boat was overset, and my companion and several others were 
 drowned. I was invited to the funeral of my playfellow, and was 
 exceedingly affected to think that by a delay of a few minutes, 
 which had much displeased and angered me, till I saw the event, 
 my life had been preserved. However, this likewise was soon 
 forgotten. At another time, the perusal of the 'Family In- 
 structor ' put me upon a partial and transient reformation. In 
 brief, though I cannot distinctly relate particulars, I think I took 
 lip and laid aside a religious profession three or four different 
 times before I was 16 years of age; but all this while my heart 
 was insincere. I often saw the necessity of religion as a means 
 of escaping 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 apostle's 
 words, 6 After the straitest sect of our religion I lived a Pharisee.' 
 I did everything 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 ques- 
 tion for fear of speaking an idle word. I seemed to bemoan my 
 rformer miscarriages very earnestly, sometimes with tears. In 
 short, I became an ascetic, and endeavored, so far as my situa- 
 tion would permit, to renounce society, that I might avoid 
 temptation. I continued in this serious 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." 
 In 1742 he met with a book in Holland which was the means of 
 slowly poisoning his mind, and prepared the way for all that 
 followed. A friend of his father's now proposed to send him for 
 some years to Jamaica, and to take charge of his future fortune. 
 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMriLERS. 101 
 
 Every tiling was prepared for the voyage, but his father mean- 
 time sending him on some business into Kent, he called on his 
 way to see some distant relations, and here his affections became 
 so fixed on one of the daughters of his host, that, to use his own 
 words, " it 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 un- 
 alterable. I soon lost all sense of religion, and became deaf tc 
 the remonstrances of conscience and prudence; but my regard fq, 
 her was always the same ; and I may perhaps venture to say, 
 that none of the scenes of misery and wickedness I afterwards 
 experienced ever banished her a single hour together from my 
 waking thoughts, for the seven following years." He was now 
 determined not to go to Jamaica, and therefore stayed three 
 weeks instead of three days, when, of course, the ship had gone. 
 In a little time he sailed to Venice, being exposed in the voyage 
 to the ill example of common sailors, and he once more relaxed 
 from the degree of prudence that he had observed for some time 
 previously. One night he had a dream. He dreamed that it 
 was his turn to be on watch, and while at his post a person came 
 to him and gave him a ring, saying that so long as he preserved 
 that ring he would be happy and useful, but if he lost it, he must 
 expect nothing but trouble and misery. He accepted the terms 
 willingly, not doubting his own power to preserve the ring. At 
 length another person came up to him, and persuaded him to- 
 throw the ring into the sea, when immediately the mountains 
 (the Alps) that he thought he beheld in the distance Vurst out in 
 flames, and his tempter told him that all the mercy of God in 
 reserve for him was comprised in that ring, and he had wilfully 
 thrown it away, and that he must now go with him to the burn- 
 iug mountains. He trembled, and w T as in great agony, when 
 suddenly a third person, or the same who had brought the ring, 
 came and dived into the water for the ring, and brought it up ; 
 when the flames in the mountains suddenly ceased. He blamed 
 his rashness for throwing it away, and asked him if he could be 
 wiser if he had the ring again ; but he refused to let him have it, 
 saying, " You are not able to keep it, but I will preserve it for 
 you, and, whenever it is needful, will produce it in your behalf.'* 
 Upon this he awoke, in a state of mind not easily to be described ; 
 but the impression soon wore off, until he hardly thought of it for 
 several years. Nothing remarkable occurred in the remaining 
 part of the voyage. In December, 1743, he returned home, and 
 soon repeated his visit to Kent, where he again imprudently 
 protracted his stay, and, by so doing, almost provoked his father 
 to disown him. Shortly afterwards he was impressed for the 
 navy, just at the time that the French fleets were hovering about 
 our coasts. In a few days he was sent on board the Harwich 
 man-of-war, where he entered upon quite a new scene of life, 
 and endured much hardship for about a month. His father 
 procured for him a recommendation to the captain, who there- 
 upon took him upon the quarter-deck as midshipman. Here he 
 had an easy life, and might have gained respect, but his conduct 
 
102 J. gadsby's memoirs of 
 
 was very indifferent. His chief companion was a free-thinker, 
 who seems to have completed the ruin of Newton's principles. 
 His depraved heart was soon gained, and he entered into his plan 
 with all his spirit. In December, 1744, the Harwich was bound 
 to the East Indies. The captain gave Newton leave to go on 
 shore for a day, but he took a horse and rode into Kent, where 
 he remained considerably beyond his time. The captain excused 
 him, but it lost him his favor. Owing to a violent storm, the ship 
 had to put back into Plymouth. Newton was sent one day in a 
 boat to see that none of the people deserted, when he betrayed 
 his trust, and deserted himself. He expected to have seen his 
 father, but was met by a party of soldiers, who took him back 
 to Plymouth, guarded like a felon. He was kept two days in the 
 guard house, then sent on board his ship, kept a while in irons, 
 and then publicly stripped and whipped; after which he was 
 degraded from his office, and all his former companions forbidden 
 to show him the least kindness. He was now on a level with the 
 lowest, and exposed to the insults of all. Thus he was as mise- 
 rable as could well be imagined. His breast was filled with the 
 most excruciating passions, bitter rage, and black despair. Every 
 hour exposed him to some new insult and hardship, until he was 
 tempted to throw himself into the sea ; but the secret hand of 
 God restrained him. Nothing distressed him so much as to 
 find himself thus forcibly torn away from the object of his affec- 
 tions without the probability of ever seeing her again. " The 
 Lord had now," he said, " to appearance, given me up to judicial 
 hardness. I was capable of anything. I had not the least fear 
 of God before my eyes, nor, so far as I remember, the least sensi- 
 bility of conscience. I was possessed of so strong a spirit of delu- 
 sion that I believed my own lie, and was firmly persuaded that 
 after death I should cease to be. Yet the Lord preserved me ! 
 Some intervals of sober reflections would at times take place. 
 When I have chosen death rather than life, a ray of hope would 
 come in, though there was little probability for such a hope, that 
 I should yet sec better days ; that I might again return to Eng- 
 land, and have my wishes crowned, if I did not wilfully throw 
 myself away. In a word, my love to Miss — was the only re- 
 straint 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." When the ship had been at Madeira some time, 
 Newton was, by a remarkable providence, exchanged for another 
 ship. This ship was bound to Sierra Leone, &c. The captain 
 knew Newton's father, and received him kindly, promising him 
 assistance ; but he soon lost his favor, as he had done that of 
 the captain of the Harwich. From this time, he says he was 
 exceedingly vile; indeed, little, if any, short of that awful 
 description in 2 Peter ii. 14 ; for he not only sinned with a high 
 hand himself, but made it his study to seduce others to sin also. 
 He made a song, in which he ridiculed the captain, and taught 
 the ship's company to sing it. " But here," he says, " let me be 
 silent ; but let me not be silent from the praise of that grace 
 which could pardon, that blood which could expiate such sins as 
 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 103 
 
 months, when the vessel 
 was preparing to leave ; but Newton determined upon remaining 
 in Africa, and landed upon the island of Benanoes, with little 
 more than the clothes upon his back. Here he engaged himself 
 to a slave purchaser, but he was made bitterly to smart for his 
 folly ; for he was reduced through his vileness to such a depth of 
 wretchedness that even the slaves thought themselves too good 
 to speak to him. A black woman, who lived with his master as 
 his wife, used him so cruelly that he had great difficulty in pro- 
 curing even a draught of water, when burning with a fever; and, 
 when recovering, was glad to receive morsels of food from some 
 of the slaves, which they had saved from their own scanty pit- 
 tance. His bed was a mat spread upon a board, and a log of 
 wood was his pillow. When his master, who had been on a 
 voyage, returned, Newton complained of the ill usage of the 
 woman, but was not believed ; and this made her worse than 
 before. The next voyage his master took him with him, wdien 
 they did pretty well for a time, until a brother trader charged 
 him with theft, which, as he asserted, was almost the only thing 
 w r ith which he could not justly be charged. However, he was 
 condemned without evidence, and from that time his master also 
 treated him with great cruelty. Whenever his master went on 
 shore, he was locked on deck, with a pint of rice for his day's 
 allowance ; and he was often exposed to the rain for twenty, 
 thirty, and even forty hours, with nothing on but a cotton hand- 
 kerchief for a cap, a cotton cloth, about two yards long, to sup- 
 ply the want of upper garments, a shirt, and a pair of trowsers. 
 In about two months they returned. His haughty heart was 
 now brought low. He lost all resolution and almost all reflection. 
 Things continued with him thus for nearly a twelvemonth, when 
 he received his master's consent to live with another trader. 
 Here he was entrusted with almost everything, to the value of 
 some thousands of pounds. He wrote several times to his father 
 and also to Miss — ; and at length a ship arrived at Sierra Leone 
 which had received orders from his father to take him home. At 
 first he hesitated about going, as he had become mixed with the 
 natives, and was fa^t imbibing their superstitions and idolatrous 
 principles. At length, however, the thought of Miss — decided 
 the matter. He embarked, and the ship set sail. It was a trad- 
 ing voyage for gold, ivory, dyers' wood, and bees' w T ax, He had 
 nothing to employ his thoughts, " excepting," he says, " that I 
 sometimes amused myself with mathematics. Excepting this, my 
 life, when awake, was a course of most horrid impiety and pro- 
 faneness. 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 himself a very passionate man, and not 
 at all circumspect in his expressions. From the relation I at 
 times made him of my past adventures, and what he saw of my 
 conduct, and especially towards the close of the voyage, when we 
 met with many disasters, he would often tell me, that to his 
 grief he had a Jonah on board, that a curse attended me wher- 
 
104 j. gadsby's memoirs op 
 
 ever I went, and that all the troubles he met with in the voyage 
 were owing to his having taken me into the vessel. One night 
 several of them sat down on deck, to see who could hold out 
 longest in drinking Geneva and rum alternately. Newton's brain 
 was soon fired, and he danced about like a madman, when his hat 
 fell overboard. He aimed to get into the ship's boat, but his 
 sight deceived him, and, as he could not swim, he must in- 
 evitably have been drowned had not some one caught hold of 
 his clothes and pulled him back. But every providence was lost 
 upon him. At times he was visited with sickness, and believed 
 himself near to death ; but he had not the least concern about 
 the consequences. In a word, he seemed to have every mark of 
 final impenitence and rejection ; neither judgments nor mercies 
 made the least impression upon him. At length, early in 
 January, 1748, they left Annabona for England. The vessel, it 
 seems, was not sea-worthy. One day Newton took up a book, 
 Stanhope's " Thomas a Kempis," when a thought suddenly 
 crossed his mind, " What if these things are true ?" He could not 
 bear the inference, and therefore hastily closed the book. But 
 now the Lord's time was come, and the conviction he was so un- 
 willing to receive was deeply impressed upon him by an awful 
 dispensation. He went to bed, but was awakened from a sound 
 sleep by the force of a violent sea which broke over the ship. 
 So much of it rushed below as filled the cabin in which he lay,. 
 and a cry came from the deck that the ship was going down. 
 " As soon as I could recover myself," he says, " 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 returned for 
 the knife, another person went up in my room, and 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 
 minutes. We had immediate recourse to the pumps, but the 
 water increased against all our efforts; 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 bees' wax 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, towards 
 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 endeavored to animate my- 
 self 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, being a less hardened sinner than myself, replied with tears, 
 * No; it is too late now.' About nine o'clock, being almost spent 
 
 
II Y»^ T - WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 105 
 
 with cold and labor, I went to speak with the captain, who was 
 busied elsewhere ; and just as I was returning from him, I said, 
 almost without any meaning, ' If this will not do, the Lord have 
 mercy on us !' This (though spoken with little reflection) was 
 the first desire I had breathed for mercy for the space of many 
 years. I was instantly struck with my own words, and as Jehu 
 said once, * "What hast thou to do with peace V 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, I ex- 
 pected that every time the vessel descended into 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 con- 
 vinced, and remained for a space of time in a sullen frame, a 
 mixture of despair and impatience. 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* 
 I continued at the pump from 3 o'clock in the morning tiJl near 
 noon, and then I could do no moic. I went and lay down upon 
 my bed, uncertain, and almost indifferent, whether 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, 
 excepting a short interval for refreshment. I had here leisure 
 and convenient opportunity for reflection. I began to think of 
 my former religious professions ; the extraordinary turns in my 
 life ; the calls, warnings, and deliverances I had met with ; the 
 licentious course of my conversation, particularly my un- 
 paralleled effrontery in making the gospel history, which I could 
 not then be sure was false, though I was not as yet assured it 
 was. true, the constant subject of prolane ridicule. I thought, 
 allowing the Scripture premises, 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. 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, 
 when I had gained some clear views of the infinite righteousness 
 and grace of Jesus Christ my Lord that I had a deep and strong 
 apprehension of my state by nature and practice; and perhaps till 
 then I could net have borne the sight. But to return. When I 
 saw beyond all probability there was still hope of respite, and 
 heard about six in the evening that the ship was freed 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 now began 
 to think of that Jesus whom I had so often derided. I recol- 
 lected the particulars of his life and of his death — a death for 
 sins not his own. And now I chiefly wanted evidence. The com- 
 fortless principles of infidelity were deeply riveted, and I rather 
 wished than believed these things were real facts. * * * 
 
106 j. gadsby's memoirs of 
 
 Upon the gospel scheme I saw at least a peradventure of hope, 
 but on every other side I was surrounded by black, unfathom- 
 able despair. The wind was now moderate, but continued 
 fair, and we were still drawing nearer to our port. 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, and were like men suddenly reprieved from 
 death ; but in a few hours our land proved to be nothing but 
 clouds. However, we comforted ourselves that, though we could 
 not see the land, yet we should do so soon, the wind continuing 
 fair. But, alas ! we were deprived of this hope likewise. That 
 very day our fair wind subsided into a calm, and the next morn- 
 ing the gales sprang up from the south-east, directly against us, 
 and continued so for more than a fortnight afterwards. Pro- 
 visions now began to grow very short. The half of a salted cod 
 was a day's subsistence for twelve persons; for all the provisions, 
 except salted fish and some pulse, had been destroyed by the 
 storm. We had plenty of fresh water,* but not a drop of 
 stronger liquor; no bread, hardly any clothes, and very cold 
 weather. We had incessant labor with the pumps, to keep the 
 ship above water. Much labor and little food wasted us fast, and 
 one man died under 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. I felt a heart-bitterness which was 
 properly my own. No one on board but myself was impressed 
 with any real sense of the hand of God in our danger or 
 deliverance. The captain, whose temper was quite soured by 
 distress, was hourly reproaching me, as I formerly observed, as 
 the sole cause of the calamity ; and was confident, that if I were 
 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 uneasi- 
 ness, especially as my conscience seconded his words. I thought 
 it very probable that all that had befallen us was on my account. 
 At length, when we were ready to give up all for lost, and despair 
 was taking place in every countenance, I saw the wind come about 
 to the very point we wished it, and to blow so gently as our few 
 remaining sails could bear ; and thus it continued, without 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 were boiling in the pot ; and before we had been 
 there two hours, the wind, which seemed to have been provi- 
 * They afterwards found that five butts, which they supposed con- 
 tained water, were empty. Had they known this at the time, their 
 fears would have been more appalling still. 
 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 107 
 
 dentially restrained 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, enfeebled condition, we must, in all 
 human appearance, 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 appealed for me since this great deliver- 
 ance ! Yet, alas ! how distrustful and ungrateful is my heart 
 unto this hour! My companions in danger were either quite un- 
 affected, 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 me peculiar mercy; otherwise I was 
 the most unlikely person in the ship to receive an impression, 
 having been often before quite stupid and 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 ;' unless it was to show, by one 
 astonishing instance, that ' with him nothing is impossi- 
 ble.' * * * In perusing the New Testament, I was struck 
 with several passages, particularly that of the fu-tree, Luke xiii. ; 
 the case of St. Paul, 1 Tim. i. ; but particularly the prodigal, 
 Luke xv. ; 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 rueet 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 circumstances helped in this place to make me still 
 more serious and earnest in crying to Him who alone could re- 
 lieve me; and sometimes I thought I could be content to die even 
 for want of food, if I might but die a believer. Thus far I was 
 answered, that before we arrived in Ireland I had a satisfactory 
 evidence in my own mind of the truth of the gospel, as con- 
 sidered in itself, and its exact suitableness to answer all my needs. 
 I was, in some degree, affected with a sense of my more enormous 
 sins, but I was little aware of the innate evils of my heart. I had 
 no apprehension of the spirituality and extent of the law of God." 
 
 Newton now became very religious, went regularly to church 
 
 to prayers twice a day, and was particularly earnest in his private 
 devotions. For six years he was not brought into the way of a 
 gospel ministry, yet the Lord the Spirit taught him gradually the 
 great truths of the Bible. He could no longer make a mock at sin, 
 or jest with holy things, and no more questioned the veracity of 
 God's word. While the ship was refitting at Lough Swilly, he 
 went to Londonderry, and was treated with much kiuduess. 
 "When there, he was one day carrying a gun, when it went off, and 
 burnt away the corner of his hat. He wrote to his father, who 
 had given him up for lost, as the ship had not been heard of for 
 18 months, and received several affectionate letters from him, 
 giving his consent to his union with Miss — ; but he never saw 
 him more, as his father w r as compelled to leave England for Hud- 
 son's Bay before Newton reached England, though only a few 
 
108 J. gidsby's memoirs of 
 
 hours before. Newton was now offered the command of a ship, 
 but he deemed it best to learn to obey before he ventured to com- 
 ina?id, as he had heretofore been so reckless ; and he therefore, 
 having satisfied himself that Miss — would wait his return, 
 engaged himself for another voyage, and went on board as mate. 
 His religion soon again declined. He grew vain and trifling in 
 his conversation ; and though his heart smote him often, yet the 
 enemy led him on until he seemed to have forgotten all the Lord's 
 former mercies, and became almost as bad as ever, except pro- 
 faneness. The Lord, however, brought him to his senses by a 
 violent fever while in Africa. On recovering, he had charge of 
 the long-boat; but one day when going out in it, the captain 
 called him back, and sent another man in his place. The boat 
 sank in the river, and the man was drowned. Newton was 
 several times upset in the Indian canoes, and taken to the shore 
 half dead. * * * The voyage being completed, the ship re- 
 turned home, and in 1750 he married the lady already referred 
 to. The same year he was appointed commander of a ship, and 
 sailed from Liverpool in August, having thirty persons under 
 him. He established public worship on board, and officiated 
 himself in reading. In November, 1751, he returned home, bat 
 sailed again in July, 1 752. In this voyage he was wonderfully 
 preserved admidst many dangers. Once his men agreed to 
 mutiny, and take the ship from him. When the plot was nearly 
 ripe, two of them were taken ill, and one of them died, which 
 opened a way to the discovery of the plot. On several occasions, 
 the slaves on board, for Newton was then a slave merchant, 
 plotted insurrections, but were invariably detected, though some- 
 times only in " the very nick of time." At a place called Mana 
 he got into the boat to go on shore to settle his accounts, when, 
 for the first time, he became timid, and went on board again. 
 He soon afterwards found that a plot had been laid against him, 
 which might have affected his life, had he landed. In August, 
 1753, he again returned to Liverpool; but in six weeks started off 
 again, taking with him a young man who had been one of his 
 companions on board the Harwich, and into whom he had been 
 the means of instilling the principles of infidelity. Newton hoped 
 that, by taking him with him, he might now be the means of con- 
 vincing him of the truths of Christianity. But he was in error. 
 The young man grew worse and worse, until he was seized with a 
 fever, and died in all the horrors of black despair. It does not 
 appear that Mrs. N. accompanied Newton on these occasions ; but 
 he was invariably wretched when her letters to him miscarried. 
 During this voyage he had another illness, which, apparently, 
 nearly proved fatal. " I had not," he says, " that full assurance 
 which is so desirable at a time when flesh and heart fail ; but my 
 hopes were greater than my fears. My trust, though weak in 
 degree, was alone fixed upon the blood and righteousness of Jesus ; 
 and these words, t He is able to save to the uttermost,' gave me 
 great relief." In about ten days he began to amend, and returned 
 home in August, 1754, and soon prepared for another voyage. 
 Hitherto he had been engaged in the slave trade, and though he 
 
 
HYMX-WRITEItS AXD COMPILERS. 109 
 
 had not then been led to see the unlawfulness of his calling, yet 
 he often prayed that the Lord would open a door for him to some 
 more humane employment. Two days before the time fixed for 
 sailing, he was seized with a tit, and was obliged to give up the 
 ship. He now remained in England, when he became acquainted 
 with Mr. YVhitefield, whose ministry was made exceedingly useful 
 to him, and he was instructed in the way of the Lord more per- 
 fectly. His trials, he said, were light and few, but he often had 
 to sigh out, " wretched man !" though he could add with the 
 apostle, " I thank God through Jesus Christ." The next year he 
 was appointed tide surveyor at Liverpool.* From this time, 
 175.J, to J 764, he had several times preached and expounded at 
 Liverpool. The first time that the ministry was impressed on his 
 mind was when reflecting on Gal. i. 23, 24 ; and the first time he 
 preached was in 1750, at Warwick, to some people who had sepa- 
 rated from the chapel in which Mr. Ryland had preached, prior 
 to his removal. It was not the smallness of the salary which 
 prevented Newton's settling here, but he was wavering in his 
 mind between Church and Dissent ; and as he subsequently chose 
 the former, he could not, of course, remain. He always spoke 
 of the people in the most affectionate terms, and often said the 
 very mention of Warwick made his heart leap for joy. It does 
 not, however, appear that he was much pressed to remain amongst 
 them, as " his talents as a minister were not then very popular ;" 
 and it is well known that a man may be thought a great preacher 
 in the Establishment who would make a very poor dissenting 
 minister. It was about this time that, being in Leeds, Newton 
 was invited to preach for Mr. Edwards, in AVhitechapel. He met 
 a party at Mr. E.'s house to tea, and seems to have enjoyed 
 himself much. After tea he was told there was a private room 
 at his service prior to preaching. "0," said he, "I am pre- 
 pared !" He went. His text was Ps. xvi. 8. For a few minutes 
 he prattled away fluently, and then came to a dead stop. His 
 <c preparation" was gone. He became confused, and at last de- 
 sired Mr. E. to ascend the pulpit and conclude. This Mr. E. did, 
 by addressing the people on the indispensable necessity of the 
 Spirit's influences. Such was Newton's abasement and shame, that 
 for some time afterwards, when walking in the streets, if he saw 
 two or three people talking together, he made sure his failure was 
 
 * " When I think of my settlement here, and the manner of it, I see 
 the appointment of Providence so good and gracious, and such a plain 
 answer to my poor prayers, that I cannot but wonder and acbre. My 
 predecessor, Mr. C, had no intention of giving up his place, as 
 reported ; but the report put 31 r. M. on an application to Mr. S., the 
 member for the town, for the place; and the very day he received the 
 promise in my favor, Mr. C. was found dead in his bed, though he 
 was perfectly well the night before." In this office it was Newton's 
 duty to inspect all ships which entered the port. One day he had to 
 inspect a ship, but was delayed on shore beyond the time appointed. 
 He afterwards put off in a boat to go to the ship, but the ship blew up 
 just before he reached it. Had he gone at the time originally fixed, he 
 must have perished. 
 
110 J. GADSBYT'S MEMOIRS OF 
 
 the subject of their discourse. Having decided upon entering 
 the Church, he had two curacies offered to him, but the Arch- 
 bishop of York refused his ordination. In 1764 the curacy of 
 Olney was proposed to him, and through the influence of Lady 
 Huntingdon's friend, Lord Dartmouth, he was ordained by the 
 Bishop of Lincoln. At Olney he wrote his hymns, in 1770, in 
 connexion with Cowper, and called them " Olney Hymns." Here 
 he continued nearly 16 years, and afterwards removed to St. Mary 
 Woolnoth, London. In 1790 he had the honorary degree of D.D. 
 conferred upon him by the University of New Jersey, America ; 
 but he declined accepting it, saying he had no wish for honors of 
 that kind. The same year Mrs. N., his idol, as he always called 
 her, was removed by death, and the world, he said, seemed to die 
 with her. For some years after her death he used to vent his 
 grief and affection in verses, on the anniversary of the day. 
 These verses were published under the title of " Ebenezer." 
 The following is a sample : 
 
 w Forget her ! No ; can four short years 
 The deep impression wear away ? 
 She still before my mind appears, 
 Abroad, at home, by night, by day. 
 
 Oft as with those she loved I meet, 
 Her looks, her voice, her words, recur ; 
 
 Or, if alone I walk the street, 
 
 Still something leads my thoughts to her." 
 
 In 1806, when he had turned 80, his sight, his hearing, and his 
 recollection, all fast going, his friends wished him to discontinue 
 preaching. "What!" he exclaimed, "shall the old African 
 blasphemer stop while he can speak?" His last sermon was 
 preached in Oct., 1806, for the benefit of the sufferers at the 
 battle of Trafalgar. When no longer able to preach, he sat in the 
 pulpit to hear his curate, until laid by altogether. About a month 
 before his death, he said to a friend who was sitting near him, 
 " It is a great thing to die; and, when flesh and heart fail, to 
 have God for the strength of our heart, and our portion for ever." 
 When Mrs. Smith, his niece, came into the room, he said, " I 
 have been meditating upon a subject, ' Come, and hear, all ye 
 that fear God, and I will declare what he hath done for my soul." 3 
 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 Almighty ! 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 ? " He was confined to his room for about 11 
 months. " I am," he said, " like a person going a journey in a 
 stage coach, who expects his arrival at his destination every hour, 
 and keeps looking out of the window for it." At another time, 
 "I am packed and sealed, waiting for the post." The Wednes- 
 day before he died, a friend asked him if his mind was comfort- 
 able. He replied, " I am satisfied with the Lord's will." Mr. N. 
 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. Ill 
 
 seemed sensible to his last hour, but expressed nothing remark- 
 able 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 : "I propose writing an epitaph for myself, if it may 
 bo 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 Saviour Jesus Christ, preserved, 
 restored, pardoned, and appointed to preach the faith he had long 
 laboured to destroy. He ministered near sixteen years as curate and 
 vicar of Olney, in Bucks, and twenty-eight years as rector of these 
 united parishes. On February 1st, 1750, he married Mary, daughter 
 of the late George Catlett, of Chatham, Kent, whom he resigned to 
 the Lord who gave her on December 16th, 1790." 
 
 [The above has been run on in one paragraph, to save room.] 
 
 Norman. — In Rippon's Baptist Register for 1703 is an account 
 of a Samuel Norman, who was appointed" minister of Bampton, 
 Devon, in 1792, and also of a John Norman, who was assistant 
 to Mr. Turner, of Abingdon, for some time, and who died at 
 Plymouth, 1782 ; and in the same work for 1794, is an account 
 of a George Norman, of Sutton, in Cambridgeshire ; but I know 
 not which of them wrote the hymn, 
 
 " 'Tij not as led by custom's voice." 
 
 Olivers (Thomas) was born at Tregonan, in Montgomeryshire, 
 in 1725. He wrote an account of his own life, from which it 
 seems he was an awful swearer, and addicted to many gross sins, 
 being, as he says, " one of the most profligate young men living." 
 One night he met a multitude of people, and, on inquiry, found 
 they had been to hear Whitefield. Two evenings afterwards, he 
 also went to hear him, when the sermon was the means of stop- 
 ping him in his awful course. He afterwards joined the Metho- 
 dists, and was on one occasion put into the stocks, by order of 
 the magistrates, for preaching. When Mr. Wesley and Mr. 
 Whitefield separated, Mr. 0. clave to the former, and wrote seve- 
 ral works against election, &c. He died in 1799. He cautioned 
 the Conference of 1772 against signing the minutes. The follow- 
 ing will, perhaps, give the reader some idea of Olivers' feelings 
 and sentiments. " I went last Wednesday morning," says he, 
 " to a famous Antinomian church in the city, to hear one of the 
 
 * A dear friendof Newton's was oace blessed with a remarkable degree 
 of icorldly prosperity. Newton called upon him and expressed his 
 anxiety about his spiritual welfare. His friend n a le no reply, but 
 called down his partner in life, who came suffused in tears and unable 
 to speak. Newton inquired the cause, when he was told she had just 
 been sent for to one of their children, who was from home, and sup- 
 posed to be in dying circumstances. Affectionately clasping her hands, 
 " God be thanked,'' said Newton, " he has not fors iki d you ! I do not 
 wish your child to suffer, but I am happy to find the Lord gives you 
 this token of his favor." 
 
112 J. GADSBYS MEMOIRS OP 
 
 Antinomian clergymen, (Toplady.) I expected to have seen very 
 few people there ; but though the church is large, it was quite 
 full. What a shame is it, my brethren, that an Antinomian 
 preacher should have so many people to hear him, when I, who 
 preach the pure gospel, was forced but now to wait a considerable 
 time for my congregation, and after waiting long, to begin to 
 18 or 20 people !" Olivers wrote the first two verses of, 
 "Lo ! he conies, with clouds descending." 
 
 Paice (Henry) was pastor of the Baptist Church, at Waddesdon 
 Hall, Bucks, in 1 795. The hymn, 
 
 " Fix'd was the eternal state of man," 
 is ascribed to him, but, though inserted in his Selection, he does 
 not call it his own, I believe it is Tucker's, but have not been 
 able to authenticate it. 
 
 Perroxet (Edward) lived at Canterbury. lie was the son of 
 Vincent Perronet, Vicar of Shoreham, Kent, for upwards of 50 
 years. Vincent died in 1785, aged 92; but I have no account of 
 Edward's death. The hymn, 
 
 " All hail the power of Jesus' name," 
 though ascribed to various persons, was undoubtedly written by 
 him. Dr. Reed, of Hackney, called it Shrubsole's ; but he was 
 probably led into the error by the fact that Shrubsole composed 
 the tune called Miles Lane, expressly for the hymn. Shrubsole 
 was for many years organist of Spafields Chapel, London. The 
 hymn is in Edward Perronet's original book, entitled, " Occasional 
 Verses, Moral and Sacred," published in 1785, a copy of which I 
 met with at Mr. Clarke's, the celebrated organist, at Canterbury. 
 Indeed, I went to Canterbury purposely to see the book, having 
 heard it was there, and I prevailed upon Mr. C. to present it 
 to the British Museum Library. In that library, therefore, 
 it may be seen. When Perronet died, he left Shrubsole a large 
 sum of money. It is but right to say that the hymn appeared 
 in the " Gospel Magazine," 1780, but without signature. Perro- 
 net, however, published it as his own, and no doubt it was. 
 
 Priestley (Timothy) was the editor of the "Christian Maga- 
 2ine," published in 1790-2, in which appeared some hymns now 
 in general use. He was first minister at Kippin, Yorkshire; then 
 at Cannon Street, Manchester ; and afterwards at Jewin Street, 
 London. He was an Independent, not, perhaps, a very powerful 
 minister, but, I firmly believe, a gracious one, though ill-judged 
 of by some gcod men, who could not tolerate any out of their 
 own immediate sphere. His writings, however, speak, though he 
 is dead. I by no means say he was faultless ; but who, indeed, 
 can lay claim to this? He was brother to the Socinian, Dr. 
 Joseph Priestley, and has often been mistaken for him. He died 
 April 18th, 1814, in his 80th year. 
 
 Pi-adford (Joseph) was born in the parish of Stepney, London, 
 July 21st, 1752. He first preached at a meeting-house in Her- 
 mitage Street, Wapping, in 1785, but in a few months the pre- 
 mises were taken down, when he removed to Well Street, where 
 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. US 
 
 he was ao;aiii disturbed, as these premises were taken down also. 
 He died July 19th, 1802. The hymn, 
 
 " Self-righteous souls on works rely," 
 is in the " Christian's Magazine," 1790, signed A. C. R.; but I 
 find it in Joseph Radford's Selection a year earlier. 
 
 Rippon (John) was born at Tiverton, Devon, April 29tb, 1751. A 
 year after the death of Dr. Gill, which took place in Oct., 1771, Mr. 
 Rippon was invited to supply the destitute church in Carter Lane, 
 Tooley Street, London, for seven Lord's Days. In 1773 he was ap- 
 pointed their pastor. When the new London Bridge was erected, the 
 church built a new chapel in New Park Street, which was opened in 
 3833. Mr. Rippon remained with this people until his death, having 
 been their pastor for G3 years. Dr. Gill was their pastor for 54 years 
 previously; so that, for the space of 117 years, that church had only 
 two pastors. Mr. Spurgeon is now, I860, the pastor. In 1790 Rippon 
 •commenced publishing a Baptist Register, giving accounts of all the 
 Baptist churches and ministers in the kingdom. This was continued 
 until 1802. Rippon was one of the most popular and talented preachers 
 amongst the modern Calvinistsin his day. He was educated as a minister 
 at the Baptist Academy, Bristol. He died Dec. 17th, 1836, and was in- 
 tered in Bunhill Fields, Dr. Cox, of Hackney, delivering an address upon 
 the occasion in the chapel in Park Street. Rippon's Selection of 
 hymns was first printed in 1787. I think the hymn, 
 
 M Here, Lord, my soul convicted stands,' 
 was his own, as I cannot find it in any book earlier than his Selection. 
 
 Robinson (Robert) was born at S waff ham, Norfolk, Jan 8th, 1735. 
 In 1749 he was put apprentice to a hair-dresser in London. During 
 his apprenticeship he devoted all his leisure time to reading and study. 
 He also attended the ministry of Gill, Romaine, and "YVhiteneld; and, 
 I believe, joined and preached for the Methodists. He began to preach 
 in 1758, at Mildenhall, and afterwards preached at Norwich. Here 
 he became pastor of a small Independent church. In 1759 he re- 
 ceived an invitation from a Baptist church at Cambridge, and preached 
 his first sermon there July 8th, 1759, having been himself previously 
 baptized by immersion. He was on trial two years, and became their 
 stated pastor in 17C1, but made it one condition that they should 
 admit of open communion. His income at first was very small, having 
 received only £% 12s. 5d. from his congregation for the first half year. 
 A person thought he had conferred an extraordinary favor on him by 
 obtruding on his acceptance an old suit of black clothes. Robinson 
 was afterwards dining at his table, with the old clothes on, when the 
 donor said, " Mr. Robinson, 1 never saw you look so much like a gen- 
 tleman." " Sir," replied Robinson, " I cannot afford to look like a gen- 
 tleman," and immediately emptied the butter-boat over the clothes, 
 and took his leave. In 1709 a new chapel was built for bim, his con- 
 gregation having greatly increased. Soon after this, Mr. R. began to 
 ■distinguish himself as an author, and wrote a work entitled, " A Plea 
 for the Divinity of Christ." In 1781 he wrote "The History of Baptism." 
 
 11 Come, thou Fount of every blessing," 
 has been usually ascribed to him ; but it has, I believe, lately been 
 proved to be Lady Huntingdon's. In June, 1790, he went to Birming- 
 ham, first, on account of his health, and, secondly, to preach for Dr. Jo- 
 seph Priestley, the Socinian. He was, it seems, in a very weak state both 
 of body and mind, but still ventured to preach twice on the Sunday, 
 
 H 
 
114 J. gadsby's memoirs op 
 
 After preaching, it was manifest that Eobinson was a dying man. His 
 bodily strength was exhausted, and his faculties impaired. On the 
 following Tuesday morning he was found dead in his bed, June 8th, 
 1790. Some have supposed that he committed suicide, but such was 
 not the case. 
 
 Romaine (William) having been often named in this work, I give 
 a brief account of him. He was born at Hartlepool, Durham, Sept* 
 25th, 1714, the same year as Whitefield. His father was one of the 
 French Protestants who fled to England when the edict of Nantes was 
 revoked, at which time so many Protestants were inhumanly butchered 
 in France by the ever blood-thirsty Papists. William was first edu- 
 cated at the grammar-school, at Houghton-le-Spring, and then sent to 
 the University at Oxford. Here he paid so much attention to his 
 studies that he greatly neglected his dress. Passing by the apartment 
 of one of the masters one day, a visitant inquired, "What slovenly 
 fellow is that, wi tli his stockings about his heels?" "That slovenly 
 fellow, as you call him," said the master, "is one of the greatest ge- 
 niuses of the age, and is likely to be one of the greatest men in the 
 kingdom." In October, 1736, he was appointed to a curacy in Devon- 
 shire, and from thence removed to Windlesham, in Surrey. From 
 Windlesham he went to London, strongly fortified in notions of his 
 own exalted abilities, which were in due time brought to nought. He 
 had quite made up his mind to go to his father's native country, France; 
 but when he went to secure his passage, a gentleman who knew his 
 father saw him, and, recognising him from the similarity of his features 
 to his father's, asked him if his name were not Romaine. On being 
 answered in the affirmative, he told him the lectureship of St. Botolph, 
 Billingsgate, was vacant, and, having some influence in the parish, he 
 had no doubt he could procure it for him. Romaine consented to 
 remain, providing he w r ere not obliged to canvass in person. This was 
 agreed to, and Romame was elected to the lectureship in 1748. In 
 1749, he was chosen lecturer of St. Dunstan's-in-the- West. He became 
 so popular, however, that the rector disputed the appointment, and 
 the case was carried into the Court of King's Bench, which confirmed 
 Romaine in the evening lectureship, but said 7 o'clock was a convenient 
 hour for the lecture. The churchwardens thereupon refused to open 
 the doors before that time, so that the people were kept waiting in the 
 streets, and Romaine often had to lecture by the light of a candle, 
 which he held in his own hand. After a time, however, this was al- 
 tered, and Rr.maine retained the lectureship to his death. Some time 
 afterwards he preached at Westminster Chapel, but was driven out 
 by the dean and chapter. In 1750 he was appointed morning preacher 
 at St. George's, Hanover Square, London; but from this place he was 
 dismissed under the complaint of crowding the church and collecting 
 so many poor together; upon which a nobleman remarked that what 
 was allowed in a theatre could not be tolerated in a church. In 1764 
 he was chosen to the rectory of St. Anne's, Blackfriars, but, from opposi- 
 tion, was Kept out of the pulpit until 1766, when he was regularly in- 
 stalled by a decree of the Lord Chancellor. On being installed, a large 
 sum of money was found due to him, bat he said he would not receive 
 it, as he had not worked for it, and thereupon ordered it to be given to 
 the poor prisoners in Newgate. Until this appointment, he had no 
 regular employment in the morning, but preached in various places. 
 He was invited to take a church in America, the living of which was 
 ^600 per year, and his dear friend Whitefield urged him to accede, 
 telling him, as he was persecuted in one city he should flee to another; 
 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 115 
 
 but though his church income was only .£18 per year, he positively 
 refused to leave London, unless he could see the Lord's hand in it. 
 "Besides," said he, "what does it signify where lam, — a poor dumb 
 dog, the vilest, the basest of all the servants of my Lord ? If you could 
 see what is passing for any one hour in my heart, you would think 
 nothing of me, but only admire and extol the riches of Jesus's love." His 
 election to St. Anne's is said to have been mainly owing to the exer- 
 tions of a publican. Mr. E., upon being informed of this circumstance, 
 went to thank him for his kindness. "Indeed, Sir," replied the pub- 
 lican, "I am more indebted to you than you to me. for you have mado 
 my wife, w r ho was one of the worst, the best woman in the world." In 
 1704 Eomaine published his "Life of Faith;" in 1771 the "Walk of 
 Faith;"' and subsequently the "Triumph of Faith." Eomaine was 
 sometimes plagued with a hasty temper, but he invariably subsequently 
 apologised when he had been rude. He once treated a dissenting 
 minister somewhat unbecomingly, and the next day called upon him 
 and begged his pnrdon. A person one day took to him a petition, 
 which Eomaine returned to him without reading it, and was showing 
 him the door, when the petitioner said, "Your Master, Sir, would have 
 treated me with greater tenderness." Eomaine instantly took back 
 the paper, read it, and granted what was solicited. In company with 
 another minister, he was once staying at the house of a friend, when 
 it was desired that one of them should engage in prayer, and it was 
 thereupon arranged that E.'s friend should do so that evening and E. 
 the next. The Lord saw it good to shut the mouth of his friend, so 
 that he had to suddenly stop in the middle of his prayer. Eomaine 
 seemed to feel no sympathy for his friend, but was truly indignant and 
 puffed up. The next evening he was taught something of his own 
 weakness; for, though he eagerly read and as eagerly went on his knees 
 to pray, he became almost instantly so confused that he had to rise, and 
 was then glad of the sympathy of his despised brother. Eomaine was 
 truly a benevolent man, and one who ever rejoiced greatly, not only 
 in the salvation but also in even the reformation of sinners.* He was 
 once walking in the street with a gentleman, when he overheard a man 
 solemnly calling upon Jehovah to damn him for ever to the bottomless 
 pit. Eomaine stopped, took half-a-crown out of his pocket, and said, 
 "My friend, I will give you this, if you will repeat that oath again." 
 The man started, and said, "What, Sir, do you think I will damn my 
 soul for half-a-crown?" Eomaine mildly replied, "As 3011 did it just 
 now for nothing, I could not suppose you would refuse to do it for a 
 reward." The poor creature, struck, as Eomaine meant he should be, 
 replied, "God bless and reward you. Sir, whoever you are. I believe 
 you have saved my soul. I hope I shall never swear again as loner as 
 I live." On another occasion he heard a man call upon God to damn 
 his soul, for Christ's sake. Eomaine, putting his hand noon the man's 
 shoulder, said, "My friend, God has done many things for Christ's 
 * Mr. Cermick was once preaching at Exeter on the efficacy of the 
 blood of Christ, -when a butcher exclaimed, " If you love blood, you 
 shall soon have enough of it ;" and rising, ran to procure some to 
 throw upon him. A Mr. Sanders who was standing by, seeing the 
 butcher approaching with nearly a pailful of blood, calmly went to meet 
 him, and, probably for a joke, as he was then a stranger to divine things, 
 suddenly caught hold of the pail, and poured the blood all over the 
 butcher. This drew the attention of the mob from Cennick to the 
 butcher, and Sanders had some difficulty in making his escape. He was 
 some time afterwards awakened to a sense of sin under a sermon by 
 Homaine. 
 
116 j. gadsby's memoirs of 
 
 sake, and he may do that too." The man was struck with awe. The 
 reproof went to his heart, and it was the means of turning him to the 
 Lord. Perhaps no man, since the days of the apostles, lived a 
 more upright life than Eomaine did; yet he did not escape invete- 
 rate opposition and foul calumny. A meeting of clergymen was on 
 one occasion held, when the worthies assembled passed a resolution, 
 that "Mr. Eomaine's preaching was calculated to do harm," though 
 their own eyes must have given the lie to their vote. A clergyman, of 
 not very good repute, once followed him, and called him an Antino- 
 mian. Komaine merely replied he was sorry to be called an Antino- 
 mian, and especially by him. He was on one occasion invited to preach 
 a charity sermon, when he found that he had been locked in the pew 
 in which he sat during the prayers, so that he could not get out, and the 
 rector impertinently ascended the pulpit. The people roje in a mass 
 to depart, but Eomaine begged of tbem to remain for the sake of the 
 charity. Speaking once of good John Berridge, he said, "Poor dear 
 old man! Thou art gone to thy rest. I shall be happy to sit down at 
 thy feet in the kingdom." A lady who once heard Mr. Eomaine, ex- 
 jjressed herself mightily pleased with his discourse, and told him after- 
 wards that she thought she could comply with his doctrine, and give 
 up everything but one. "And what is that, Madam?" "Cards, Sir." 
 "You think you could not be happy without them?" "No, Sir, I know 
 I could not." "Then, Ma^mt, they are your god, and they must save 
 you." This pointed and jus\ reply is said to have issued in her conver- 
 sion. Eomaine was once at tea at a lady's house, when his hostess 
 asked him to have a rubber at whist, to which he seemed to accede. 
 On the cards being produced, he said, " Let us ask the blessing of 
 God !" " Ask the blessing of God ! ' exclaimed the lady, " I never 
 heard of such a thing at cards." " Then," said Eomaine, "how can 
 you engage in that or anything else on which you cannot ask the 
 Lord's blessing?' I need hardly say the cards were soon put by. 
 Tor the last 50 years of his life, Eomaine regularly rose at 5, break- 
 fasted at 6, dined at 1, supped at 3, and retired at 9. He took little or 
 no wine, and lived on the plainest food. Eomaine's last illness at- 
 tacked him June Cth, 1795. He had more than once said, " Who can 
 tell (I cannot) how great the love was which provided a Saviour for 
 such a rebel ? What patience, how infinite ! to spare me through child- 
 hood, through youth, through manhood, when every day, and every- 
 thing in the day, were calling aloud for vengeance. I might have 
 been many years ago in hell, and most justly ; and now I adore the 
 long-suffering of God which kept me out of it. He had purposes of 
 love toward me, which he made known in his own time and way. 
 It was sovereign love which brought me to know myself, and to know 
 Jesus. His own Holy Spirit began and carried on the work." A 
 little before his death he was asked how he was; when he replied, 
 " As well as I can be out of heaven." And at another time, " As well as 
 I possibly can be whilst in this vile body, which plagues and toiments 
 me." " How good is God to me ! what entertainments and comforts 
 does he give me! what a prospect of glory and immortality is 
 before me ! He is my God, through life, through death, and to 
 eternity !" On a friend remarking how weak he was becoming, he 
 said, " It is all mercy, all mercy !" " I have been in deep waters, but 
 have enjoyed much support." " I should have nothing of this languor 
 if I had no sin ; but God be thanked for hope in death, yea, for life 
 in death." On the 23rd of July, he said, " It is now nearly sixty 
 years since God opened my mouth to publish the everlasting suf- 
 
 
HYMN- WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 117 
 
 ficiency and eternal glory of the salvation of Christ Jesus ; and it has 
 now pleased him to shut my mouth, that my heart might feel and 
 experience what my mouth has so often spoken." " I have lived to 
 experience all I have spoken, and all I have written, and I hless God 
 for it." "I have the peace of God in my conscience, and the love of 
 God in my heart; and that, you know, is sound experience." "I 
 knew "before the doctrines I preached to he truths, hut now I ex- 
 perience them to be blessings." Thanking another friend for a visit, 
 he said he had come to see a saved sinner. This, he had often 
 affirmed, should he his dying boast, and that he desired to die with 
 the language of the publicau in his mouth, " God be merciful to me 
 a sinner!" On the Thursday before his death, his wife said to him, 
 " I hope, my dear, you now find God your support, and his promises 
 of life in Christ Jesus your comfort." He replied, '.'Yes; now that 
 my heart, and my flesh, and my strength fail, my God is the strength 
 of my heart, and my portion for ever." He then addressed her with 
 the most tender expressions of affection, thanking her for all the 
 unwearied attention and care she had showed to him, from the first 
 day of their union until now ; adding, " Come near, my love, that I 
 may bless you. The Lord be with you, a covenant God for ever, $6 
 save and bless you." On the Saturday he was evidently fast sinkings 
 A friend said to him, " I hope, Sir, you now find the salvation of 
 Jesus inestimably precious to you." He replied with feeble voice, 
 "Yes, yes, yes; he is precious to my soul." "More precious than 
 lubies," said his friend. Romaine caught the word, and completed 
 the Scripture : " Yes, ' and all that can be desired is not comparable, 
 to him.' " Whilst his lips could move, or his tongue articulate, ho was 
 employed in ejaculations of prayer and praise. The last words he was 
 heard distinctly to utter were, " Holy, holy, holy, blessed Jesus ! to 
 thee be endless praise !" When his breath failed, and he could speak 
 no more, his lips continued to move, his hands were clasped and lifted 
 up to God, and about 1 o'clock on the morning of Lord's Day, July 
 2t)th, 1795, the conflict ended, and he fell asleep in Jesus, without a 
 struggle or a groan. He died at a friend's house on Balham Hill, 
 and was buried in a vault under the church of St. Anne's, Elackfriars^ 
 London. The funeral was attended by the city marshals and their 
 men on horseback, fifty coaches, the beadles and children of the 
 parish school, and an immense concourse of people. 
 
 Eothe (Godfrey). — This person was a Moravian minister at Berth- 
 oldsdorf and Herrnhut, in Germany. The hymn, 
 
 "Now I have found the ground wherein," 
 was written by him in German, and translated by C. Wesley. It has 
 been called Toplady's, but this is an error. (See Toplady; C. Wesley.) 
 
 Eozzell.— -I have no account of this person. His hymns were, I 
 believe, written expressly for W. W. Home's Selection. 
 
 Rvtland (John) was born at Warwick, Jan. 29th, 1753, in the par- 
 sonage house belonging to the rector. When some of the people com- 
 plained that the rector had let the house to an Anabaptist, (John's 
 father,) the rector replied, " What would you have me do ? I have 
 brought him as near to the church as I can, but I cannot force him 
 into it." In 1759 Ryland's father removed to Northampton. His 
 father's name was also John, so that the one was called John Ryland* 
 Senior, and the subject of this memoir John Ryland, Junior. Some 
 of his hymns were inserted in the old magazines, always signed, 
 
118 j. gadsby's memoirs op 
 
 11 J. K., Tun." He was a pupil with his father at Northampton, who 
 kept an academy, and was also pastor of the Baptist church there. Be- 
 fore he was five years of age, it is said he was able to read the 23rd 
 Psalm in Hebrew, and that by the time he was nine years old, he 
 was so well versed in Greek that he could go through the whole New 
 Testament in that language. At 13 he " became deeply impressed," 
 and was baptized by his father in 1767. In 1770 he preached his first 
 sermon, and some years afterwards assisted his father in the pastoral 
 office, until, in 1786, his father removed to London, when he (John, 
 Jun.) took his place at Northampton. He was one of the founders 
 of the Baptist Missionary Society, and, in 1815, on the death of An- 
 drew Fuller, was appointed his successor as one of the secretaries. 
 He received the title of D.D. in 1792, from the university of Bhode 
 Island, America. In 1793 he removed to Bristol, to fill the office of Pre- 
 sident of the Baptist Academy there, vacant by the death of Mr. Caleb 
 Evans. He died May 25th, 1825. 
 
 Shepherd (Thomas) was a Nonconformist, and, during the. per- 
 secutions by the Church of England, fled to America, where he 
 formed a church and died. His hymns were published in 1692, about 
 the same time as Burkitt's " Help to Christian Families." (See Burkitt. 
 See also appendix — Mason.) 
 
 Steele (Anne) was born in 1716. She was the eldest daughter of 
 Mr. William Steele, Baptist minister, Broughton, Hampshire, and 
 was a member of her father's church for 46 years. It is to be deeply 
 regretted that no memoir of her, except one prefixed to the third 
 volume of her poems, published after her death, is in existence ; and 
 this is hardly worth reading. Her hymns, however, contain the 
 breathings of a living soul, and have been the means of cheering 
 many a drooping heart, drawing out many a sympathetic tear, inspir- 
 ing many a rapturous song, and calling forth many a prevailing 
 prayer.* Even in early life she was exceedingly fond of poetry, but 
 was ever very unwilling for her productions to be submitted to the 
 public eye ; and when at last she gave consent, she would not have 
 her own name attached to the volumes, but published them under 
 the signature of Theodosia, and appropriated the profit to charitable 
 uses. As her life was, for the most part, a life of retirement, it 
 furnishes but few incidents worth recording ; but it is described as 
 one of ' ; unaffected humility, warm benevolence, sincere friendship, 
 and genuine devotion." She had a capacious mind enclosed in a very 
 weak and languid body ; and the death of her father, to whom she was 
 attached by the strongest ties of affection and gratitude, gave such a 
 shock to her tender frame that she never recovered it, though she 
 survived him some years. She had consented to give her hand in 
 marriage to a young man named Elscourt, and the day of the mar- 
 riage was fixed; but her intended, while bathing in a river on the day 
 preceding it, incautiously went out of his depth, and was drowned. 
 For some years before her death, Miss S. was confined to her chamber, 
 and long looked with sweet resignation for her dissolution ; and when 
 at last the happy moment arrived, she was full of peace and joy. 
 Though her body was racked with pain, she uttered not a murmuring 
 word. She took the most affectionate leave of her weeping friends 
 
 * I must say, if any one hymn ever softened my heart, and caused my 
 tears to flow, — was ever blessed to me, more than another, it was this, 
 when I was in Egypt in 1847 : 
 
 '* My God, my Father 1 blissful name!" 
 
 
HYMX-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 119 
 
 around her, and then, witji these triumphant words upon her lips, " I 
 know that my Redeemer livcth," closed ber eyes, and fell asleep in 
 Jesus. She died in Nov., 1778. During her life she published two 
 volumes of hymns and poems, and a third volume was published 
 after her death. The following lines are inscribed upon her tombstone : 
 
 " Silent the lyre, and dumb the tuneful tongue 
 That sang on earth her great Redeemer's praise; 
 Rut now in heaven she tunes a nobler song, 
 In more exalted, more harmonious lays." 
 
 Stennett (Samuel) was born at Exeter in or about 1727. He was 
 the younger son of Dr. Joseph Stennett, who was many years pastor 
 of the Baptist church at Exeter. Samuel is said to have been called by 
 grace to a saving knowledge of the truth in early life. He was bap- 
 tized by his father when very young, and became a member of the 
 church in Little Wild Street, London, to which place his father had 
 removed in 1737. He received the degree of D.D. from the King's 
 College, Aberdeen. He had an opportunity of entering the Church of 
 England under high patronage, but declined from principle. He took 
 a large share in the repeal of the Test and Corporation Acts, those 
 laws so unjust towards Dissenters. In 1758 he was appointed pastor 
 of the church in Little AVild Street, as his father's successor, having 
 for some time before been his assistant. The death of his wife greatly 
 afflicted him, and seemed to deaden him to the world. He appeared 
 to have no farther desire to live in it. Just before he was confined 
 to his bed, he prayed earnestly in his family, " that God might give 
 him an easy passage out of life ;" and God granted him that which he 
 requested. Some vinegar and other ingredients being given him as 
 a gargle for his throat, he said, with great emotion, " And in his 
 thirst they gave him vinegar to diink. when I reflect upon the 
 sufferings of Christ, I am ready to say, What have I been thinking 
 of all my life ? What lie did and suffered are now my only support." 
 And referring to the Socinian tenets, he said, "What should 1 do 
 now if L had only such opinions to support me ? ' His speech was 
 taken away some hours before his departure. He died Aug. 24th, 1795. 
 
 Stevens (John) was born at Aldwinkle, Northamptonshire, June 
 8th, 177(5. During his early years he resided with his grandfather, 
 but subsequently went to his father's, and learnt his business of a 
 shoemaker. His father and family were all church people, and John, 
 of course, attended church with them. "When about 10, he went to 
 London, with a view of improving himself in his business; and there, 
 it is believed, commenced his connection with dissenters. Referring 
 to this period, and writing on the 8th of June, 183"2, Mr. S. says, 
 " This day I have been 5G years in this sinful world. I have been the 
 subject of serious thoughts and desires more than 40 years." In a 
 little time after his arrival in London, he attended the ministry of 
 Mr. Richard Burnham, Grafton Street, Soho, and was subsequently 
 baptized by him. Not long afterwards, and when only 19, he " received 
 the full sanction of the church, and was sent forth to preach the 
 gospel as the Lord in his providence might open a door for him." 
 Nevertheless, from some cause or other, Mr. Burnham never would 
 suffer him to preach in his pulpit. In about three year-, Stevens re- 
 turned to his native village, and there and in the neighborhood 
 regularly prenehed. Dr. Haweis made proposals to procure his ad- 
 mission into the University; but Stevens would not consent, as his 
 principles as a Baptist were fixed. In 1797 he accepted a call to settle 
 
120 j. oadsby's memoirs op 
 
 over a people at Oundle. There he continued for two years, and 
 then removed to St. Neot's. Here he remained about five years, and 
 during the time wrote the first part of his work against Fuller, 
 entitled, " Help for the True Disciples of Immanuel," a work good as 
 far as it goes into the subject of particular redemption, — so good 
 indeed that no Fullerite can ever answer it, — yet by no means to be 
 compared with one upon the same subject by the late William Bush- 
 ton, of Liverpool. In 1805, Mr. S. removed to Boston, and remained 
 there until 1811, when he accepted a call from the church in Grafton 
 Street, London, Mr. Burnham being then deceased, to become their 
 pastor. No less than 80 members, being nearly half the whole 
 number, withdrew on Mr. S.'s settling amongst them ; but, neverthe- 
 less, in little more than two years the place was found to be too small, 
 and the people removed to York Street, St. James's. In Dec, 1822, 
 the church was broken up, the causes of which it would be unchari- 
 table to mention, and many members left; but the next month it was 
 re-formed. In 1824 a new chapel was erected in Meard's Court, at a 
 cost ©f a£4000 ; and in this Mr. S. continued to his death, there being 
 at the time of that event, 400 members. In 1823 Mr. S. published 
 a work in favor of the doctrine of purchased blessings and the sinner's 
 legal right to them. He was also an unflinching advocate of the 
 Pre-Existerian theory, which tenet he seems to have held partly, if 
 not principally, because he could not see how the human nature of 
 Christ could be holy unless it were in existence before Adam fell; 
 just as the Pagans of old could not worship a god which they could 
 not see, and just as the Papists now-a-days believe that the Virgin 
 Mary must have been immaculate, or Christ would have been con- 
 taminated with sin. A memoir of Mr. Stevens, consisting, with 
 letters, &c, of nearly 4C0 octavo pages, was published soon after his 
 death; but I know not who was the author. This is, however, cer- 
 tain, that Mr. S.'s best admirers may well be ashamed of it; for, if 
 judgment must be pronounced upon Mr. S. according to the account 
 therein given of him, his character could not stand very high amongst 
 God-fearing people. The biographer has laboured more to prove that 
 Mr. S. was a man of " distinguished, peculiar, and extraordinary 
 ability " and " powerful and extraordinary talents,"— so powerful,, 
 indeed, and " singular and promising," that even Bichard Burnham 
 was " jealous " of him; that "the native strength of his superior mind 
 manifested itself in the originality of his thoughts ; " nay, that his 
 mind was so " singularly endowed with capabilities of thought and 
 penetration," that he was led by it "more fully to discover the sove- 
 reignty, &c, of a Triune Jehovah ; " that " his powers of amplification 
 were singularly great;" that " he rose with his theme to a lofty elo- 
 quence and sublimity of thought; " that he was, in a word, " a host in 
 himself;" than that he was a helpless dependent upon the Holy- 
 Spirit, — a poor sinner saved by grace. Indeed, if we did not know to* 
 the contrary, one could hardly believe that he was a sinner at all, and 
 certainly did not need more than half a Saviour, since he possessed a 
 " great and holy mind," and had " a latent principle of holy tendency 
 in his heart from his youth." No rightly-taught man need blush at 
 being called an " Antinomian " by such a biographer, even though, 
 through God's mercy, he could fearlessly offer to compare notes with 
 a life so " strictly moral," "of such unyielding integrity, uncompro- 
 mising faithfulness, undissembled godliness, and untiring devotedness 
 and consecration to the cause of Jesus Christ," as Mr. S.'s was. All 
 who knew Mr, S. will, however, agree with the biographer that he was 
 
 
HYMN-WKITERS AND COMPILERS. 121 
 
 an unflinching advocate for the doctrines of grace, exceedingly power- 
 ful in argument, and that " few polemical writers employed the 
 strength of logical argument with greater skill and success." " ' I let 
 them spin the cord,' he was wont humorously to remark of some of 
 his opponents, ■ with which I will presently tie their fingers.' " In the 
 year 1809 Mr. Stevens published a work entitled, "Doctrinal Antino- 
 mianism Eefuted, and the Old Law established in a New Relation." 
 This work was written against my dear father. Mr. S. maintained that 
 even the saints in glory, in their perfect state as united to Christ, 
 have nothing more than what the Law contains; to which my father 
 replied that, if that were the case, it was impossible for the Gospel to 
 produce or contain any one thing which is not found in the Law ; that 
 when Christ commissioned his disciples to go and preach the Gospel, 
 he ought rather to have sent them to preach the Law; and that when 
 the Apostle exhorted the church to let their conversation be as becomes 
 the Gospel, he should have said as becomes the Law; for " what mes- 
 sage more glorious can either men or angels ever deliver than that 
 which contains all evangelical spirituality, holiness, justice, goodness, 
 and truth?" The former said he saw no reason why the Gospel 
 should be introduced as a law, in opposition to that commonly called 
 the Moral Law; and the latter contended that it, the Moral Law, is not 
 to a believer a perfect law, while the Gospel contains the glory, not 
 only of the Moral Law, but of all the laws which God ever promulgated 
 from his throne; that though the Liw is in itself holy, and just, and 
 good, snd glorious, yet that it has no glory, compared with the glory 
 of the Gospel, which excelleth." (2 Cor. ii. 7 — 11.) Mr. S. called ray- 
 father "Mr. Antinomos;" to which my father replied that he was 
 quite willing, as to uprightness of conduct and integrity in all his 
 dealings, to compare notes even with Mr. Stevens; and soid if that 
 man must be called an Antinomian who maintains that that Law is the 
 believer's rule which is highest in authority ?nd most excellent, which 
 not only contains all God's laws, but excels all other laws in glory, he 
 was quite willing to bear the reproach; "and though," said he, " Mr. 
 S. has dipped his pen in nitre, I have no wish to be found walking by 
 that rule; and if he is satisfied with the remarks he has made, I do 
 not envy him his happiness. * * * Precious Jesus! May my 
 soul be truly humbled in the dust before thee, — a ruined sinner, jus- 
 tified freely by thy grace! a vile monster, complete in thee! In the 
 riches of thy grace, visit me with a few more of thy heart-melting love 
 kisses. Kiss me out of self more and more into thee ! " Mr. S.'s last 
 sermon was preached Sept. 19th, 1817. On the following Saturday, 
 being very unwell, a friend called to see him, to whom he said, "I 
 have no clothes of my own to appear in before God, but the garment 
 of his righteousness, and have nothing to plead but the blood of his 
 heart. I could wish the Lord would either give me strength fcr my 
 work, or take me home to see his face in glory." Little more is 
 recorded of his last sayings; but his end is described as being " prayer- 
 ful, calm, and peaceful," "not a word of distrust or doubt escaping 
 him." lie died Oct. 6th, 1817. 
 
 Stocker (Joitn). — I have no account of this person, except that his 
 hymns were all inserted in the "Gospel Magazine" for 1776, fte. 
 That one is his, commencing, 
 
 " Thy mercy, my God, is the theme of my song." 
 
 Swain (Joseph) was born in Birmingham in 1761. His parents 
 died when he was very young. At an early age he was apprenticed to 
 
122 j. gadsbt's memoirs of 
 
 an engraver. On removing to London, he became acquainted with a 
 number of gay youths, who were extremely fond of plays and dancing, 
 and, being naturally of a cheerful disposition, his company was much 
 sought after. At this time he composed some songs and plays. But 
 he was not allowed to proceed beyond the prescribed line. One day 
 it was suggested to his mind that he was on the road to eternal death. 
 He therefore purchased a Bible. His convictions of sin increased, 
 and his conscience became greatly alarmed with apprehensions of 
 eternal ruin. In his Diary of April 2nd, 1782, he describes the state 
 of his mind : " I was followed, for about six months, with dreadful 
 ideas of eternal torments, fearing lest by fire or sickness I might be 
 removed intD the endless fire of hell. Still I found that I loved my 
 sins, and was not able to give them up, though I feared the punish- 
 ment due to them." After a time, and after many legal workings, 
 and various attempts to make his own peace with God, he felt his 
 heart gradually melted. Many scriptures were brought to his mind, 
 wherein he not only saw himself as a sinner, but Christ as a Saviour, 
 yea, as his Saviour. "Yea," he says, "I saw and believed that he died 
 for me, and that I should soon be with him in glory. O how did my en- 
 raptured soul rejoice, at that time, in this great salvation ! So great was 
 the peace and satisfaction of my mind that I thought I could bear to 
 he confined in the darkest dungeon, provided I might feel there 
 what I then felt of the presence of God in my soul. But ah! the 
 heavenly vision was not of long continuance, as I soon found by ex- 
 perience. The heavenly scene was snatched away, Leaving but the 
 remembrance of it, except that in my heart I felt an aching void 
 that Christ only could fill." He now began to write some hymns. As 
 he was singing one of them, a person who overheard him asked 
 him whose it was, and when he found it was his own, he invited him 
 to go to chapel with him; but it is impossible to describe the surprise 
 and delight he experienced on hearing from the pulpit the very 
 things which he had himself gone through, for this was the first gospel 
 sermon he had ever heard. He said, " I am sure what the preacher 
 said is true, for he has described my feelings better than I can my- 
 self." He afterwards went to hear Bippon, and was baptized by him 
 in May, 1783. After hearing a sermon preached by John Berridge, 
 he said to his wife, ■' My dear, I do think I shall die with joy." Some 
 time afterwards he was called by the church to the work of the 
 ministry, and in June, 1791, went to preach for a people who met 
 in East Street, Walworth, London, and who, without being formed 
 into a church, had gone on for 11 years, having had no stated minister 
 over them. In Dec, a church was formed, and Swain was made the 
 pastor. When the church was first formed, there were only 27 mem- 
 bers, but the number soon increased to 200. The chapel was enlarged 
 three times. But Swain's labors soon terminated, as he died April 
 14th, 1796. Swain wrote, in a letter to a friend, an account of bis ex- 
 perience, from which I extract the following j 
 
 " Dear Brother in Christ, — Though I see not your face, 
 Your name is engraved on my heart; 
 And oft with delight I contemplate the place 
 Where soon we shall meet not to part. 
 
 " But O to that grace which has saved us from hell, 
 What debtors we have been and are. 
 We must be content, if the whole we would tell, 
 To wait till we both arrive there. 
 
 
HTMN-WRITEES AND COMPILEES. 123 
 
 41 Yet though I am conscious the height of God's love, 
 And depths of his wisdom and grace, 
 Will never he known till we sing them above, 
 I cannot but aim at his praise. 
 
 u Though high is the theme, and the ransom'd in heaven 
 To reach it exert all their skill; 
 For one to be silent whose sins are forgiven 
 Is surely more difficult still. 
 
 4t Look back, then, my soul, and by mercy constrain'd, 
 Declare what thy Saviour has done, 
 When first over Satan and sin he obtain'd 
 That conquest which proved thee his own. 
 
 " A slave to the passions which fetter mankind, 
 And mark them as servants of sin, 
 And yet to self-righteousness strongly inclined, 
 My heart was both proud and unclean. 
 
 " But thoughts of eternity oft would intrude, ■ 
 
 And conscience on judgment would muse; 
 How must I of God with abhorrence be view'd, 
 While thus all his gifts I abuse ! 
 
 11 Till secret alarms in the season of sleep 
 Disturb'd and prevented my rest, 
 By pointing my fears to the bottomless deep, 
 My envy to seat3 of the blest. 
 
 " 'Twas then with reluctance I purchased the book 
 Where God's righteous will is reveal'd, 
 Intending but seldom within it to look, 
 My eyes to its worth being seal'd. 
 
 u But while I was seeking on his holy day — 
 Behold the long-suffering of God ! — 
 Unhallowed delight in perusing a play, 
 The Bible my purpose withstood. 
 
 u This pierced through my soul like a two-edged sword, 
 And laid my heart open to view ; 
 I felt both the truth and the power of the word; 
 My sins were intended, I knew. 
 
 " I trembled to think of his all-seeing eyes, 
 Which watched me through all my career; 
 And thought on the day when the dead must arise; 
 With horror akin to despair. 
 
 " That word which bold infidels dare to dispute, 
 Which God did in mercy inspire, 
 I found like an axe which is kid to the root, 
 To cut down a tree for the fire. 
 
 The precepts demanding obedience I road,* 
 Overwhelm'd with confusion and shame; 
 
 The threat'nings like thunder roll'd over my head, 
 And darted like lightnings their flame. 
 
124* j. gadsby's memoirs of 
 
 11 But neither the danger of hell I was in, 
 Nor dread of displeasure divine, 
 Could turn from the love or the practice of sin 
 A heart so rebellious as mine." 
 
 Tate (Nahum) was horn in Dublin, 1652, and died in 1715. With 
 Brady he compiled a New Version of Psalms for the Church of Eng- 
 land. C See Brady.) 
 
 Toplady (Augustus Montagu) was horn at Farnham, Surrey, 
 Nov. 4th, 1740. Toplady lived in a day when Arminianism iirst vigo- 
 rously reared its head in the Protestant Church, when the Arminians 
 broached the heresies that " every believer, till he comes to glory, 
 works for as well as from life," that " nothing can be more false than 
 that a man is to do nothing in order to justification," that election is a 
 "horrible decree," &c; and Toplady vigorously combated those doc- 
 trines. About that time the Calvinistic and Arminian (or Wes- 
 leyan) Methodists were divided. When Huntington was raised up, 
 he found that, in the Calvinistic churches, all who professed the doc- 
 trines of grace were reputed to be Christians, especially if they could 
 talk largely of election, predestination, &c; and he was "set," as God's 
 mouth, to draw the line between possession and a mere profession, — to 
 separate the chaff from the wheat. The ministry of each was peculiarly 
 adapted to the times in which he lived; and this has been the case 
 with the Lord's more highly-favored ministers in ail ages. I might 
 instance the great Reformers, Calvin, Luther, Zwingle, Waldo, Wick- 
 liffe, &c. Each did the work appointed for him, and each was as in- 
 dispensable in his day as the harrow is after the plough. (See Lady 
 
 Huntingdon, Whitefield, &c.) But I am rambling from my memoir. 
 
 Toplady's father was a major, and died at the siege of Carthagena soon 
 after Toplady was born. Toplady received his early education at the 
 Westminster School, and thence went with his mother to Ireland. 
 When about the age of 10, it pleased God in his providence to direct 
 his steps into a barn, at a place called Codymain, where a layman 
 was preaching. The word was fixed on his conscience. Reflecting 
 upon the circumstance a few years afterwards, he says, " February 
 29th, 1768, at night, after my return from Exeter, my desires were 
 strongly drawn out, and drawn up to God. I could, indeed, say that I 
 groaned with the groans of love, joy, and peace; but so it was, even 
 with comfortable groans that cannot be uttered. That sweet text, 
 'Ye, who were sometimes afar off, are made nigh by the blood of Christ,' 
 (Eph. xi. 13,) was particularly delightful and refreshing to my soul; 
 and the more so as it reminded me of the days and months that are 
 past, even the day of my sensible espousals to the Bridegroom of the 
 elect. It was from that passage that Mr. Morris preached on the memo- 
 rable evening of my effectual call by the grace of God,under the ministry 
 of that dear messenger; and under that sermon I was, I trust, brought 
 nigh by the blood of Christ, in August, 1756. Strange that I, who had 
 so long sat under the means of grace in England, should be brought 
 nigh unto God in an obscure part of Ireland, amidst a handful of God's 
 people met together in a barn, and under the ministry of one who 
 could hardly spell his name! Surely it was the Lord's doing, and is 
 marvellous! The excellency of such power must be of God, and can- 
 not be of man. The regenerating Spirit breathes not only on whom, but 
 likewise when, where, and as he listeth." — In June, 1762, Toplady " re- 
 ceived the imposition of hands," and subscribed to the Articles, &c, of 
 the Church of England five times. He " did not believe them,'* he 
 said, " because he subscribed to them, but he subscribed to them be- 
 
 
HTMN-WEITEES AND COMPILERS. 125 
 
 cause he believed them." He considered them, indeed, as almost, if 
 not quite, immaculate. In one of his works he remarks, that if the 
 apostles had lived in that day, he believed they would all have been 
 members of the Church of England ! So great is the infatuation with 
 which even good men may be left to be carried away. Shortly after 
 he entered the ministry, he was inducted into the living of Blagdon, So- 
 mersetshire, but subsequently resigned it, as he learnt that it had been 
 purchased for him. He first possessed the living of New Ottery, which 
 he exchanged in 1708 for that of Broad Hembury, near Honiton, De- 
 vonshire, which he held until his death. Through the lenity exercised 
 towards his parishioners, the whole living did not amount to £80 a-year. 
 Though Toplady was so staunch an advocate for the Church of Eng- 
 land, he was nevertheless courteous and kind to all who differed 
 from him in opinion, so long, as he said to Dr. Priestley, as they were 
 transparent. " Give me," said he, " the person whom I can hold up as I 
 can a piece of crystal, and see through him. I revere and admire real 
 probity wherever I see it; but artifice, duplicity, and disguise I cannot 
 away with." Dr. Gill, the Baptist, he highly esteemed, as he did also 
 many other Dissenters. With John Wesley he was uncommonly severe, 
 not because he had in great measure swerved from the Establish- 
 ment, and set up as a " head " on his own account, but because he said 
 disingenuousness, disguise, dishonesty, marked many of his goings. 
 Many things were, however, I believe, attributed to Mr. W., of which 
 he knew no more than did Toplady himself, his followers being mainly 
 to blame. But all these things are as well passed by. " But let it 
 not be supposed," he says, " that I bear them (Wesley and his sup- 
 porters) the least degree of personal hatred. God forbid ! I have 
 not so learned Christ. The very men who have my opposition have 
 my prayers also. I dare address the great Shepherd, and say, 
 
 1 Hast thou a lamb in all thy flock 
 I would disdain to feed ? ' 
 
 But I likewise wish to add, 
 
 1 Hast thou a foe, before whose face 
 I fear thy cause to plead ? ' " 
 
 A more sincere and honest man than Toplady was has not, perhaps, ex- 
 isted for 18 centuries. He had the courage of a lion, but his frame was 
 brittle as glass. Excessive study, united with the damp air of Devon- 
 shire, was the means of greatly impairing his health, laying the 
 foundation of a consumption, which terminated in his death. He 
 endeavored to change his living for cne in a drier part of the island, 
 but could not succeed. His medical advisers, however, recommended 
 him to remove to London, which he did in 1775, when he became 
 more intimately connected with the Countess of Huntingdon and the 
 Calvinistic Methodists. (For some particulars see the account of Lady 
 H. in a previous part of this little book. See also Whitefield and John 
 Wesley, farther on.) His friends engaged for him, for Sunday and 
 Wednesday evenings, the French Calvinist Reform Church in Orange 
 Street. His first sermon there was preached on Lord's Day, April 1 1th, 
 1770. Three months afterwards he published his selection of hymns, 
 a copy cf which, after much effort, I have procured for the British Mu- 
 seum. There are plenty of copies of a later edition, but it is spurious. 
 In this collection are some hymns of his own, some of Charle3 Wesley's, 
 
126 J. GADSBVT'S MEMOIRS OF 
 
 some extracted from the " Gospel Magazine," and some from other 
 quarters. As with all other collections published about that period, 
 such as Madan's, Wesley's, Aldridge's, Coughlan's, Lady Huntingdon's, 
 &c.j the names of the authors were not attached to the respective 
 hymns. This is to be regretted, as, had it been otherwise, ic would 
 have saved a great deal of contention. On publishing his works, after 
 his death, Mr. Eow inserted many hymns, and called them Toplady's, 
 which were not his, but which were Charles Wesley's, &c. Taking 
 advantage of this circumstance, many persons, who are ignorant of 
 the facts, have charged Toplady with theft, &c. ; whereas Toplacty had 
 no more idea that such hymns would be ascribed to him than that one 
 of his hymns, (" Eock of Ages,") inserted in the Wesleyan Selection, 
 would be ascribed to Wesley. Many of Toplady's own hymns were 
 inserted in the" Gospel Magazine" for 1771 and following years, ge- 
 nerally signed " Minimus," but sometimes " Goncionator." His well- 
 known hymn, " Eock of Ages," was inserted in that magazine for 1776, 
 at the end of a series of Questions and Answers, and is entitled, " A 
 Living and Dying Prayer for the Holiest Believer in the World," and 
 signed, " A. T." Of that magazine he was editor from December, 
 17 75, to June, 1776. Mr. Eow also published a " Course of Prayer, 
 with Hymns by Toplady ;" and in this little volume, as also in " De- 
 votional Exercises," &c, he inserted several other hymns, not only 
 by Charles Wesley, but also by Hart, Watts, Beddome, &c, and called 
 them Toplady's; but Toplady cannot be held responsible for that 
 which was done more than a quarter of a century after his death. Mr. 
 Eow, in his Life of Toplady, says Toplady published a few original 
 poetic pieces, in a l2mo< volume, in Dublin, in 1759 ; and a gentleman 
 in America, named Creamer, who belongs to what is called, " The 
 American Wesleyan Episcopalian Church," and who published an ac- 
 count of the authors of some of the hymns in the American Wesleyan 
 Selection, after having endeavored to stain Toplady" s character for 
 having stolen some of Charles Wesley's hymns, says that most pi'O- 
 baoly they were inserted by Toplady as his own in the volume alluded 
 to, printed in Dublin. But such an insinuation, in the total absence 
 of proof, betrays a lack of that charity that thinketh no evil, which is 
 especially unbecoming in an advocate for perfection in the flesh. Suf- 
 fice it to say, that I do not believe one word of it, and I challenge Mr. 
 Creamer for the proof. In all the volumes that I have waded through, 
 I have not found a single instance in which Toplady has claimed any 
 hymn which w r as not his own. The whole blame lies at Mr. Eow's 
 door, for he had no right or authority to insert such hymns in Top- 
 lady's works. Some of them were published by C. Wesley before Toplady 
 was born, or within a year of his birth ; and Toplady, of course, knew 
 this ; and, therefore, to have called them his own would have been cer- 
 tain to have called down the exposure and censure of John Wesley, 
 who sought every opportunity of injuring Toplady's character. But such 
 was not the case. Amongst such hymns I may mention the following : 
 
 " Thrice comfortable hope ;" (70) 
 " 'Tis fmish'd ! The Messiah dies ; " (97) 
 il Let the world their virtue boast ;" (98) 
 " Christ, whose glory fills the skies/' (726) 
 
 It is true that Toplady altered some of them, but they were originally 
 written by Charles Wesley. So again the following have been called 
 Toplady's : 
 
 M Rejoice, ye saints in every state ;" (82) 
 M Hail, mighty Jesus ! how divine ;" (194) 
 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 127 
 
 "Prepare me, gracious God ;" (471) 
 " Astonish'd and distrcss'd." (733) 
 
 But 82 is Wallin's ; the first three verses of 194 are Wallin's, the last 
 'two Toplady's ; 471 is Elliott's, altered; 733 is Beddome's, altered. I 
 have felt it due to Toplady's reputation to insert these facts, and I can 
 only say that their correctness may he relied upon. As I have men- 
 tioned several hymns, usually ascribed to Toplady, which are not his, 
 [so now I shall refer to some which I believe arc his, though not 
 hitherto published in his name : 
 
 " The Gospel brings tidings ;" (52) 
 
 11 How happy are we ;" (68) 
 
 "From whence this fear and unbelief?" (227) 
 
 "Though justly of wrongs we complain;" (2-30) 
 
 94 Jesus, at thy command ;" (294) 
 
 "Thy purchased people, gracious Lamb;" (348) 
 
 Toplady united, in a very high degree, those various excellences 
 which make a captivating preacher. Dignified and serious, yet sin- 
 gularly pleasing in his appearance, having a melodious voice and a 
 graceful action, with a keen eye, an ardent spirit, and a peculiar talent 
 for fluent and felicitous expression, lie could readily chnin the atten- 
 tion of any audience. Nor did he fail to impress the hearts of many, 
 "whose tears were often seen to flow along with his own. Yet, after all, 
 it was not the manner, but the matter, which formed the grand charm 
 of his pulpit oratory. On Feb. 4th, 1776, Toplady was preaching a 
 chanrity serma, to St. Sepulchre's, near Newgate, when he took for 
 his text, Matt. xii. 36. Several persons of rank being present, Top- 
 lady took occasion to refer to a paragraph in the newspaper respect- 
 ing a noble lord running his horse on a Sunday against Sir John 
 Ladd; when his lordship beat his opponent by "jostling " his horse 
 into a ditch. Toplady then cautioned his lordship to beware, lest he 
 should be "jostled" into hell; upon which some of the congregation 
 tittered ; whereupon Toplady exclaimed, " It is no laughing matter, 
 Gentlemen, to be jostled into hell !" Toplady's health in early years be- 
 gan rapidly to decline, so that no hope was entertained of his recovery. 
 On April 19th, 1778, on attempting to speak, his hoarseness became so 
 extreme, that he was obliged to descend from the pulpit after naming the 
 text. After the above day, hepreachedonlyfourtiir.es, and each time was 
 looked upon as his last. When it was generally believed that he was 
 dead, or so near death as to be past the power of speaking or writing, 
 John Wesley and some of his followers propagated the awful falsehood 
 that he had receded from his former principles, and had expressed a 
 desire to protest against them in the presence of Mr. Wesley. When 
 the report reached his ears, dying as he was, he insisted upon being 
 conveyed to Orange Street, that he might, from his pulpit, contradict 
 the statement. He was informed that it would be dangerous to make the 
 attempt, and that probably he might die in the execution of it; to 
 ■which he replied, " A good man [White-field] once said he would ra- 
 ther wear out than rust out; and I would rather die in the harness 
 than in the stall." On Sunday, June 14th, 1778, he was, therefore, 
 taken from Knightsbridge to the chapel, and, after a sermon by his 
 assistant, Dr. lliingworth, he, to the amazement of the people as- 
 cended the pulpit, and delivered a short but affecting exhortation from 
 2 Pet. i. 13, 14, in which he mentioned the peace, joy, and consolation, of 
 which he participated, and his cj^sirable expectation that in a few days 
 He must resign his mortal part to corruption, and then see the King 
 
128 J. gadsby's memoirs off 
 
 in his glory. He concluded by giving his unqualified contradiction to 
 the report that I have mentioned, and, referring his hearers to his writ- 
 ings, said, " Every one of which I do hereby, as a dying man, ratify and 
 declare to be expressive of my real religious principles." "I was 
 awakened in the month of August, 1755, but not, as has been falsely 
 reported, under Mr. John Wesley, or any preacher connected with 
 him. Though awakened in 1755, I was not led into a full and 
 clear view of all the doctrines of grace till the year 1758, when, 
 through the great goodness of God, my Arminian prejudices received 
 an effectual shock, in reading Dr. Manton's Sermon on the 17th of 
 St. John. I shall remember the years 1755 and 1758 with gratitude 
 and joy, in the heaven of heavens, to all eternity." 1 shall here intro- 
 duce a few extracts from a narrative published a short time after his 
 death. Some of his observations were, by a few persons who were 
 present, committed to writing at the time. He frequently disclaimed, 
 with abhorrence, the least dependence on his own righteousness as any 
 cause of his justification before God, and said that he rejoiced only in 
 the free, complete, and everlasting salvation of God's elect by Jesus 
 Christ, through the sanctincation of the Holy Spirit. A remarkable 
 jealousy was apparent in his whole conduct, for fear of receiving any 
 part of that honor which is due to Christ alone. He desired to be 
 nothing, that Jesus might be all and in all. His feelings were so veiy 
 tender upon this subject, that a friend once undesignedly put him in 
 an agony, by remarking the great loss which the church of Christ 
 would sustain by his death, at this particular juncture. The utmost 
 distress was immediately visible in his countenance, and he exclaimed 
 to this purpose: "What! by my death ? No! by my death? No! 
 Jesus Christ is able, and will, by proper instruments, defend his own 
 truths. And with regard to what little I have been enabled to do in 
 this way, not to me, not to me, but to his own name, and to that only, 
 be the glory." " A short time before his death," says a friend, " at his 
 request, I felt his pulse ; and he desired to know what I thought of 
 it. I told him, that his heart and arteries evidently beat weaker and 
 weaker. He replied immediately, with the sweetest smile upon his 
 countenance, ' Why, that is a good sign, that my death is fast approach- 
 ing; and, blessed be God, I can add, that my heart beats every 
 day stronger and stronger for glory.' A few days preceding his 
 -dissolution, I found him sitting up in his arm-chair, and scarce 
 able to move or speak. I addressed him very softly, and asked him 
 if his consolations continued to abound as they had hitherto done. He 
 quickly replied, * my clear Sir, it is impossible to describe how good 
 God is to me. Since I have been sitting in this chair this afternoon, 
 (glory be to his name!) I have enjoyed such a season, such sweet 
 communion with God, and such delightful manifestations of his pre- 
 sence with, and love to my soul, that it is impossible for words, or any 
 language, to express them. I have had peace and joy unutterable ; 
 and I fear not that God's consolations and support will continue.' But 
 he immediately recollected himself, and added, ' What have I said? 
 God may, to be sure, as a Sovereign, hide his face and his smiles from 
 me. However, I believe he will not; and if he should, yet still will I 
 trust in him. I know I am safe and secure ; for his love and his cove- 
 nant are everlasting.' •"•*«! cannot tell you the comforts I feel 
 in my soul ; they are past expression. The consolations of God to 
 such an unworthy wretch are so abundant, that he leaves me nothing 
 to pray for but a continuance of them. I enjoy a heaven already in 
 my soul. My prayers are all converted into praise. Nevertheless, I 
 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 129 
 
 do not forget that I am still in the body, and liable to all those dis- 
 tressing fears which are incident to human nature when under temp- 
 tation and without any sensible divine support. But so long as the 
 presence of God continues with me in the degree I now enjoy it, I 
 oannot but think that such a desponding frame is impossible.' * Those 
 great and glorious truths which the Lord, in rich mercy, has given me 
 to believe, and which he has enabled me (though very feebly) to stand 
 forth in the defence of, are not (as those who believe not, or oppose 
 them say) dry doctrines, or mere speculative points. No. But, being 
 brought into practical and heart-felt experience, they are the very joy 
 and support of my soul; and the consolations flowing from them carry 
 me far above the things of time and sense.' Soon afterwards he added, 
 
 * So far as I know my own heart, I have no desire but to bo entirely 
 passive ; to live, to die, to be, to do, to suffer, whatever is God's blessed 
 will concerning me ; being perfectly satisfied that, as he ever has done, 
 so he ever will do that which is best concerning me; and that he deals out 
 in number, weight, and measure, whatever will conduce most to his 
 own glory and to the good of his people.' ; Welcome, ten thousand 
 times welcome, the whole will of God. I am enabled to be more than 
 resigned. I am thankful for his every dispensation, knowing that 
 they are all ordered in faithfulness and love.' ' God forbid that I 
 should be so vile an apostate as to recant my former principles ! And 
 yet that apostate I should soon be if I were left to myself.' 'I wish 
 to live and die with the sw T ord of the Spirit in my hand, and, as one 
 expresses it, never put off my armour until I put on my shroud.' He 
 frequently called himself the happiest man in the world. ' 0,' said 
 he, ' how this soul of mine longs to be gone ! Like a bird imprisoned 
 in a cage, it longs to take its flight. that I had wings like a dove, 
 then would I flee away to the realms of bliss, and be at rest for ever !' 
 
 * Sickness is no affliction; pain no curse; death itself ne dissolution. 1 
 Being* sked by a friend if he always enjoyed such manifestations, he 
 answered, 'I cannot say there are no intermissions; for if there were 
 not, my consolations would be more and greater than I could possibly 
 bear ; but, when they abate, they leave such an abiding sense of God's 
 goodness, and of the certainty of my being fixed upon the eternal 
 Rock, Christ Jesus, that my soul is still filled with peace and joy. 
 Within the hour of his death, he said, ' It will not be long before God 
 takes me; for no mortal man can live (bursting, while he said it, into 
 tears of joy) after the glories which God has manifested to my soul.'" 
 On Tuesday, Aug. 11th, 1778, his spirit departed. He was interred 
 in Tottenham Court Chapel. His body had not been long in the 
 earth before Mr. Wesley publicly asserted that he died blaspheming, 
 and in the horrors of despair, and that none of his friends were per- 
 mitted to see him ; and one of the^Wesleyan preachers, named Rhodes, 
 asserted that his (Toplady's) case was like the awful one of Francis 
 Spira, and added that ' ; the dreadful manner in which he died had 
 caused a woman who attended him to join the Wesleyan Society." Sir 
 Richard Hill wrote two letters in the " General Advertiser" to Mr. 
 Wesley, calling upon him either to retract the statements or deny hav- 
 ing made them. I deeply regret that my limits will not allow me to 
 publish them here, as they were written with ability and to the pur- 
 pose. A declaration was signed by thirteen persons, who had from 
 time to time been with Mr. Toplady in his last hours, expressing 
 their readiness to testify upon oath, if required, the falsity of Mr. Wes- 
 ley's statements. Among the names I find that of the woman whom 
 Mr. Rhodes said had joined the Wesleyan Society, and also those of 
 
 I 
 
130 j. gadsby\s memoirs op 
 
 Dr. Andrew GifTord and John Ryland, Sen., and Thomas Evans and 
 Thomas Hough, Mr. Toplady's medical attendants. Well, indeed, 
 might Toplady say of any one who could so" act, " Tenderness 
 has no good effect upon him and his pretended family of love. I shall 
 never attempt to hew such millstones with a feather. They must he 
 pressed close like nettles, and then they cannot sting." 
 
 Tucker (William) was horn at Chard, Somerset, March 27th, 1731. 
 His parents were memhers of the Church of England, and honest and 
 upright. William was no stranger, even while young, to convictions 
 of sin ; hut, beginning in legal fear and ending in a false peace, they 
 were merely transient, passing away like the morning cloud or the 
 early dew in the East. He served an apprenticeship at Chard, and 
 then removed to London. Here he went to hear the great apostle of 
 England, George Whitefield, and the word was fastened on his soul. 
 To use his own words, " I heard and felt it too." Some time after- 
 wards he returned to Chard, and there settled for life. He grew daily 
 more and more acquainted with the plague of his heart, the spirituality 
 of God's law, and the unsearchable riches of his grace. In 1764, he 
 commenced business as a cutler and ironmonger, which he continued 
 for 37 years. For some time after he returned to Chard, he was a 
 Psedobaptist ; but being led to examine the Scriptures, he was con- 
 strained to become a Baptist, was baptized in 1765, and immediately 
 joined the Baptist Church at Chard, of which he remained a member 
 for 48 years. Though he wa3 looked up to as " an ornament of the 
 church," he ever exclaimed, " By the grace of God I am what I am." 
 He was often the subject of misgivings respecting his state before 
 God; but even in the midst of these he seems to have been so much 
 supported that he sometimes said he was " not anxious to live nor 
 afraid to die." The poor had a, share in his bounty, and he was ever 
 ready to heal a breach in the church. The evening before his death, 
 he was unusually cheerful, and retired to rest soon after 9 o'clock. 
 The next morning, Feb. 2nd, 1814, he told his servant he felt ill all 
 over, and that he should soon be gone. He then reclined his head on 
 his pillow, and in a few minutes, without a struggle or sigh, breathed 
 his last, in the 83rd year of his age. It does not appear that Tucker 
 ever stood up to preach,* as he was not blessed with the gift of utter- 
 ance ; but this was amply made up for by his pen. His works, " Predes- 
 tination Calmly Considered," and " Arminianism Dissected," were his 
 master-pieces in favor of Calvinism. He also wrote a variety of pieces 
 in the Gospel and Baptist Magazines against Pre-Existerianism. His 
 hymns, 
 
 11 love, beyond conception great ;" 
 " Expand, my soul, arise and sing f 
 " Fix'd was the eternal state of man ;" 
 
 were originally inserted in the "Gospel Magazine," for 1772, &c 
 The best hymn which, to my mind, Tucker, wrote has usually ap- 
 peared without signature ; but I found it in the "Gospel Magazine" 
 with Tucker's signature. I refer to 
 
 "Amidst ten thousand anxious cares." 
 
 Turner (Daniel) was born at Blackwater Park, near St. Alban's, 
 March 1st, 1710. In early life he was a member of the Baptist church 
 at Hemel Hempstead. He received a good classical education, though 
 
 * In the first edition of this work, I stated that Tucker was a clergyman 
 of the Church of England ; but this was an error. There was a clergy- 
 man at Chard of the same name ; but he was not the writer of the hymns. 
 
 
HYMN- WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 131 
 
 his father was a farmer. In 1738, he kept a boarding-school at He- 
 mel Hempstead. What his success as a schoolmaster was is not 
 known; but in 1740, he removed to Reading, and became pastor of 
 the Baptist church there. In 1748 he left Reading, and went to Abing- 
 don, where he remained to his death. He published a work in favor 
 of open communion, along with Mr. Ryland, Sen., and Mr. Robert 
 Robinson, to which Abraham Booth replied, in his " Predobaptism Ex- 
 amined." He wrote a few hymns in J 794, which were printed for 
 private circulation only. One of these is, 
 
 " Jesus, full of all compassion.'' 
 He died Sept. 5th, 1798. 
 
 Upton (James) was born at Tunbridge Wells, Sept. 15th, 1760. 
 We was upwards of 48 years pastor of the Baptist church, Church 
 Street, Blackfriars Road, London. In 1776, he removed to Waltham 
 Abbey, Essex, and two years afterwards he was baptized and joined 
 Mr. Davis's church, being then only 18. On Feb. 20th, 1785, he 
 preached his first sermon from a pulpit, at Waltham Abbey, from 
 1 Cor. xv. 10. In June, 1786, he was ordained pastor over the people 
 at Church Street, then called Green Walk. He was greatly esteemed 
 in the circle with which he was connected. In 1799 he wrote several 
 excellent letters to a friend who had embraced Socinian views. He 
 died Sept. 22nd, 1834. The hymn, 
 
 11 Christ has blessings to impart," 
 was issued in its present form by him in 1814; but a hymn very much 
 like it was in Lady Huntingdon's Collection, 1780. 
 
 Wallin (Benjamin) was born in London in 1711. He was the son 
 of Mr. Edward Wallin, Baptist Minister, of Maze Pond, London. 
 Though trained up in the way he should go, under the eye and mi- 
 nistry of his excellent father, " yet," he says, M under his judicious and 
 affectionate instructions, both as a parent and a minister, I continued 
 a long time a melancholy instance of the insufficiency of the best of 
 means without a special blessing ; but, I trust, before his removal, it 
 pleased God, who is rich in mercy, to open the eyes of my understand- 
 ing, and to change what was before only the form to the power of 
 godliness." Wallin was educated under Mr. John Needham, of 
 Hitchin, and Dr. Stennett. Having no thought of the ministry, he 
 entered into business, and several attempts were made to induce him 
 to preach before he consented. "When,' he said, in answer to the 
 third application from the church at Maze Pond, " I consider the de- 
 sign of such a call to be employed more or less in preaching the gospel, 
 the very thought strikes me with terror. It is a work of an awful 
 nature." On July Gth, 1740, he consented to speak before the church, 
 and in Oct., 1741, he accepted the office of pastor. Here he remained 
 upwards of 40 years, and died Feb. 19th, 1782. 
 
 Watts (Isaac) was born at Southampton, July 17th, 1074. Ho 
 was the eldest son, there being four sons and five daughters, of Mr. 
 Isaac Watts, the master of a very nourishing boarding-school in that 
 town, which was in such reputation that gentlemen's sons were sent 
 to it from America and the West Indies. His parents, being consci- 
 entious Nonconformists, had suffered much from the persecuting 
 measures of Charles II, his father having been imprisoned more than 
 once because he would not attend the church. During his imprison- 
 ment, his wife sometimes sat near the prison-door, suckling her son 
 Isaac. When about 7 years old, Isaac was desired by his mother to 
 
132 j. gadsby's memoirs of 
 
 write her some lines, as was the custom with the other hoys after 
 the school hours were over, for which she used to reward them with 
 a farthing. Isaac obeyed, and wrote the following : 
 
 " I write not for a farthing, but to try 
 How I your farthing writers can outvie." 
 The precise time when effectual grace laid hold of his heart, I have 
 not been able to learn. Dr. Jennings says, " Through the power 
 of divine grace, he was not only preserved from criminal follies, 
 but had a deep sense of religion on his heart betimes." Some 
 gentlemen at Southampton offered to defray the expenses of his edu- 
 cation at one of the Universities, but he declined it, saying he was 
 determined to take his lot amongst the Dissenters. Accordingly, in 
 the year 1690, he was sent to London, for academical education 
 under Mr. Thomas Eowe, and in 1693, in his 19th year, he joined in 
 communion with the church under the pastoral care of his tutor. 
 While at this academy, he wrote two volumes of Latin dissertations, 
 and two English dissertations. One of the latter was on the subject 
 of justification through the imputed righteousness of Christ; in 
 which he says, " The devil has used many artifices to subvert us, 
 among which this is a principal one, namely, filling men's minds 
 with wrong opinions concerning it, by representing it as an unholy 
 doctrine; and this is the common prejudice against justification by 
 the imputed righteousness of Christ received by faith alone, that it 
 gives liberty to men to live loosely and sinfully, as though there was 
 no room for good works in our religion, if they be not brought into 
 our justification. But constant experience shows that this is a mis- 
 take ; for they who embrace this doctrine are for good works as much 
 as any, and dare not oppose the authority of that Spirit who, by the 
 apostle James, pronounces that faith which is without good works to 
 be dead. What we contend for is the right place, use, and end of 
 good works in the matters of religion, that they may not be substi- 
 tuted in the stead of Christ, and the glory of our salvation be attri- 
 buted to ourselves, against which the Scriptures so often caution us." 
 After he had finished his academical studies, being 20 years of age, 
 he returned to his parents, where he remained two years. He was 
 then invited by Sir John Hartopp to reside in his family, at Stoke 
 Ne wing ton, near London, as tutor to his son, where he remained 
 five years. He preached his first sermon on his birthday, 1698, and 
 was the same year chosen assistant to Dr. Chauncey, pastor of the 
 church then meeting in Mark Lane, London. In January, 1701-2, 
 he received a call from the church to succeed Dr. Chauncey in the 
 pastoral office, which he accepted the very day King William died, 
 March 8th, 1701-2. Shortly afterwards, however, he was seized with 
 an alarming illness, which rendered it necessary for the church to 
 provide an assistant for him. As his health improved, he renewed 
 his ministrations, but, in 1712, a violent fever so shook his constitu- 
 tion and nerves that debility attended him to his dying day. The 
 distressing state into which he was reduced roused in his friends a 
 tender sympathy. Sir T. Abney took him into his house, at Abney 
 Park, Stoke Newington, and supplied him with every comfort he 
 could need or friendship could suggest. Sir Thomas died in 1722, 
 but the same benevolent spirit actuated Lady Abney, who survived 
 Watts above a year. He was once favored with a visit, at Lady 
 Abney's, from the Countess of Huntingdon, when he thus addressed 
 her : " Madam, your ladyship is come to see me on a very remarkable 
 day/' "Why is this day," said she, "so remarkable?" "This day 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 133 
 
 30 years," replied the doctor, u I came hither, to the house of my 
 good friend, Sir Thomas Abney, intending to spend but one single 
 week under his friendly roof; and I have extended my visit to ex- 
 actly 30 years." Lady Abney, who was present, immediately addressed 
 the doctor: "Sir, what you term a long 30 years' visit, I consider as 
 the shortest visit my family ever received." During the whole of 
 Watts's sickness, the church insisted upon his receiving his salary, not- 
 withstanding that he protested against it, as having no title to it, seeing 
 that he never preached. How different was that to the conduct of 
 some people, according to whose treatment, as a dear man, now 
 in glory, once said, " God's ministers ought to be either angels 
 or asses ; for if they were the former, when they had done preaching 
 they could fly to their better country ; and if the latter, the people 
 could give them a kick, and turn them into the lane !" During Watts's 
 residence at his father's, after he left the academy, as already mentioned, 
 he composed the greater part of his hymns. These were not pub- 
 lished until 1707. He sold the copyright to a bookseller for .£10 
 only. A second edition was printed in 1709, corrected and much 
 enlarged. His psalms were not printed till 1719. In 1728, the 
 Universities both of Aberdeen and Edinburgh conferred upon him 
 the degree of D.D. 1 have mentioned that, through a fever in 1712, 
 Watts's nerves were greatly shaken. Many strange stories are 
 told respecting his nervousness and imagination, which, if true, 
 would imply that he was really, at times, out of his mind; such 
 as, for instance, his imagining that, though he was really only 
 five feet high, he was too big to enter the pulpit or go through a 
 doorway. Dr. Gibbons, however, positively denies these stories, 
 from his own personal knowledge. Watts's life was a life of study, 
 and, consequently, very few interesting circumstances are connected 
 with it. He was once in the coffee-room of an hotel, when he over- 
 heard one person ask another, " Is that the great Dr. Watts ?" Upon 
 which Dr. Watts turned suddenly round and repeated the following 
 from his Lyric Poems: 
 
 " Were I so tall to reach the pole, 
 
 Or mete the ocean with my span, 
 
 I must be measured by my soul ; 
 
 The mind's the standard of the man," 
 
 The following is recorded upon such unquestionable authority that 
 its authenticity cannot reasonably be doubted. A person in Southamp- 
 ton, who was a stone-mason, and who had purchased an old building 
 for the materials, previous to his pulling it down came to Mr. Watts, 
 under some uneasiness, in consequence of a dream, viz., that a large 
 stone in the centre of an arch fell upon him, and killed him. Upon 
 asking Mr. Watts his opinion, he answered him to this effect: "I 
 am not for paying any great regard to dreams, nor yet for utterly 
 slighting them. If there is such a stone in the building as you 
 saw in your dream (which he told him there really was), my advice 
 to you is, that you take great care, in taking down the building, 
 to keep far enough off from it." The mason resolved that he would ; 
 but in an unfortunate moment he forgot his dream, went too near 
 this stone, and it actually fell upon him, and crushed him to death. 
 Watts was several years distressed with continual wakefulness, so that 
 sometimes even opiates lost their effect upon him. Very little is 
 said of his last days. About half an hour before he died, Whitefield 
 called upon him. and, asking him how he was, he replied, "Here I 
 am, one of Christ s waiting servants." Some medicine was just then 
 
134: j. gadsby's memoirs of 
 
 brought in, and Whitefield helped him up until he took it ; upon which 
 Dr. W. apologised for the trouble he gave him. " Why, surely, my 
 dear brother," said Whitefield, " I am not too good to wait upon 
 one of Christ's waiting servants !"* Watts often expressed that he 
 had not the shadow of a doubt as to his future happiness, and said, 
 " I bless God I can lie clown with comfort, not being solicitous 
 whether I awake in this world or another." Again, "I should be glad 
 to read more, yet not in order to be confirmed more in the truth 
 of the Christian religion, or in the truth of its promises, for I believe 
 them enough to venture an eternity on them." When he was almost 
 worn out and broken down by his infirmities, he observed in conversa- 
 tion with a friend, that he remembered an aged minister used to 
 say, that the most learned and knowing Christians, when they come 
 to die, have only the same plain promises of the gospel for their sup- 
 port, as the common and unlearned ; " and so," said he, " I find it." 
 He told a friend, in answer to his inquiry if he felt any pain, that he 
 did not, and said it was " a great mercy ;" and he gave the like 
 answer when asked about his soul, and said he experienced the comfort 
 of those words, " I will never leave thee nor forsake thee." He ex- 
 pired the next day, Nov. 25th, 1748, and was buried in Bunhill 
 Fields. Whitefield said of him, that for years together he might be 
 said rather to gasp than to live. 
 
 Wesley (Charles), and also his brother John, were born at Ep- 
 worth, in Lincolnshire, of which parish their father, Samuel Wesley, 
 was rector. Charles was born Dec. 18th, 1708, old style, that is, Dec. 
 29th. When about eight years of age, he was sent to the West- 
 minster School, and in 1726 was elected a student of Christ Church, 
 Oxford. Charles admits that he spent the first two years at Oxford 
 negligent of religion ; and when his brother John had spoken to 
 him to be more serious, he would reply, " What ! would you have me 
 to he a saint all at dnce?" About 1731, Charles went with his 
 brother and Mr. Ingham to Georgia, but, after laboring there about 
 a year, suffering much from dysentery, he was obliged to return. 
 He was not, as yet, acquainted with the power of religion, having 
 been satisfied with using forms of prayer, &c. By reading the Life 
 of Halliburton, " Charles was greatly stirred up to pray for the 
 great blessing, and obtained salvation of the Lord;" whereupon 
 he composed the hymn, 
 
 " for a thousand tongues to sing." 
 
 When leaving America the second time, in 1736, the ship was not sea- 
 worthy, and they had to put into Boston for repairs. He was there de- 
 layed a month, and then put out again ; but again the ship was found 
 unsafe. A storm arose, and Charles was, as he says, very uncom- 
 fortable. " I strove vehemently to pray," says he, " but in vain. I 
 persisted in striving, yet still without effect. I prayed for power 
 to pray, continually repeating the name of Jesus, till I felt the virtue 
 of it at last. I felt the comfort of hope, and such joy in finding 
 that I could hope, as the world can neither give nor take away. I 
 had that conviction of the power of God present with me, over- 
 ruling my fear and raising me above what I am by nature, as sur- 
 passed all rational evidence, and gave me a taste of the divine good- 
 ness." The captain was scarcely ever sober, and left the ship to the 
 mate. They arrived safely at Deal, however, on Dec. 3rd. In 1739 
 
 * Dr. Gibbons, in his Life of Watts, says this is not true. As others 
 say it is true, I must leave it. 
 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 135 
 
 Charles commenced his itinerant labors, and, "for the space of 10 
 years," says a Wesley an biographer, " we must admit that his ministry 
 was like a flame of lire." He laid his skeletons of sermons aside, and 
 endeavored to preach with the unction and power of the Holy Ghost. 
 Hundreds of sinners were converted to God; and some, who after- 
 wards became ministers, including Thomas Maxfield, were called 
 under his sermons in the open air. He often warned the people not to 
 think they had new heart-; merely because they had felt the deceitful- 
 ness of the old, nor to think they would ever be above the necessity of 
 praying. A stroller once told him he would, for five shillings, show 
 him how to make money. Charles said he had no need of money; 
 but, giving the man sixpence, said, "as you possess the art of trans- 
 mutation, you can, of course, easily make it into halfagninea." In com- 
 mon with the other Methodists, Charles was in perils oft. At Sheffield 
 the mob completely pulled down the Society House in which he in- 
 tended preaching, and an officer seized him, and pointed his sword 
 to his breast ; but, as Charles was undismayed, the officer somewhat 
 lowered his tone. He was, however, hit with several stones thrown 
 at him by the mob. One man once went up to him with a French 
 sickle, to cut him down, but couid not raise his arm. Charles saw 
 him making great effort to do so, and exclaimed with a strong voice, 
 4< In the name of the Lord Jesus, keep back V The man was struck 
 with awe, and retired. A? a place near Leeds, the mob once broke 
 all the doors and windows of the house in which Charles was. They 
 were indicted for a riot ; but the leaders of the mob got up a cross suit, 
 declaring that the Methodists had commenced the riot. It will 
 show the spirit of the age, and give some idea of what the Metho- 
 dists had to endure, when I mention the fact that the grand jury 
 threw out their bill, and found a " true bill" against them. They 
 were, however, acquitted on the trial. Charles w r as once preaching 
 in the woods in America when he suddenly changed his position, 
 and a shot at the same instant whizzed past him, and struck tho 
 tree he had just left. He at that time lived in a miserable hut, and 
 had barely the necessaries, certainly not the comforts, of life, often 
 sleeping on the floor, and valuing boards, wlrm he corkl get them, 
 as a luxury. I have already said so much about Charles Wesley, in 
 conjunction with the other Methodists, that I must not enlarge here. 
 In many of the acts of his brother John, Charles could not concur* 
 and when John used YVhitefield in the way that he did, depriving him 
 even of his own place of worship at Bristol, Charles clave to White- 
 field, like Jonathan to David. Indeed, Philip, in his " Life and Times 
 of Whitefield," says, "Charles, in 1752, consulted Whitefield on a 
 delicate subject — separation from John. It embarrassed Whitefield. 
 He knew not what to say. Something, however, rendered it necessary 
 for him to say that he thought John still jealous of him and his 
 proceedings. But, lest this should injure John with Charles, he said 
 also, * The connection between you and your brother has been so 
 close, and your attachment to him so necessary to keep up Ids interest, 
 that I would not willingly, for the w r orld, do or say anything that 
 might separate such friends.' Wesley was somewhat jealous of White- 
 field at this time. A new tabernacle was spoken of, and for a long time 
 the nobility had smiled on Whitefield. Wesley felt this. He could have 
 taken their smiles more coolly than Whitefield, but he could not sustain 
 their neglect philosophically. It was, however, the contrast, not the 
 loss that mortified him." So much for Philip. At the time of the 
 eruption between John Wesley and Lady Huntingdon, Charles ex- 
 
136 j. gadsby's memoirs of 
 
 pressed himself very much grieved, and said that he should not fail 
 to " speak to his "brother roundly upon the subject." Somewhere about 
 the year 1760, Charles gave up itinerating with his brother. When- 
 ever Lady Huntingdon went to Clifton or Bath, Charles usually ac- 
 companied her. It is remarkable that the last 30 years of Charles's 
 life have been inserted in about half a dozen pages by most of the 
 Wesley an biographers. All these things go to prove that Charles was 
 hardly considered one of them. Up to 174.9, all the hymns pub- 
 lished by the Wesley's were published in their joint names, John and 
 Charles; but at the end of that year, being about the time that 
 Charles began to have a little insight into his brother's plans, 
 Charles published in his own name only. Indeed, it is clear that he 
 could not submit to his brother's mutilations, for nearly all the 
 hymns were composed by Charles. Mr. Creamer, whom I have 
 referred to in my memoir of Toplady, says, " Nearly every one of 
 Watts's Hymns in the W r esleyan Hymn Book has been subject to 
 just such a correction and revision as Mr. Milner " (who had called 
 them hyper- Calvinistic) c< had sagacity enough to see they required ; and 
 that, too, by no less a personage than the same who revised, and expur- 
 gated and re-revised the productions of Charles Wesley;" that is, by 
 John Wesley. Is not this saying that Charles's, like Watts's, were too 
 Calvinistic for John ? The first hymn book which the Wesley s pub- 
 lished was issued in 1738, entitled, " Psalms and Hymns." It was a 
 small book; but in 1739, one of 2 vols, was published, " Hymns and 
 Sacred Poems, by Messrs. John and Charles Wesley." The hymns were,, 
 however, as I have just said, nearly all by Charles. John was merely 
 the amputator, or mutilator, or, as Mr. Creamer w T ould say, the " re- 
 viser." In this, and other of the earlier productions of Charles 
 Wesley, many hymns app3ar which have been ascribed to various 
 persons; and I confess I was both surprised and delighted when, 
 in these old books, I first caught sight of the originals. For some 
 of these, I refer my readers to page 126, and now merely add the 
 following : 
 
 " Hark ! the herald angels sing;" 
 
 11 Head of the church triumphant;" 
 
 " Christ the Lord is risen to-day;" 
 
 11 Let earth and heaven combine;" 
 
 "Blow ye the trumpet, blow;" 
 
 and also hymns 127, 161, 229, 243, 249, 303, 390, 391, 408, Gadsby's 
 Selection. In 1779, John published the first edition of the Wesleyan 
 Selection. It contained 560 hymns. The Conference added a Supple- 
 ment some years ago ; so that the book now contains 769 hymns, 625 
 of which were composed by Charles, and only five by John; 24 are 
 translations from the German (principally Moravian) ; one from the 
 Spanish ; and one from the French. That Charles was a good and 
 gracious man, no one who has ever felt his own sinfulness and help- 
 lessness and the overwhelming power of redeeming love, and who 
 reads Charles's hymns, can well doubt, unless he be prepared at the 
 same time to say that he was one of the greatest hypocrites that ever 
 lived; with which assertion I cannot for one moment sympathise. 
 In my opinion, he was one of the sweetest hymn writers that ever 
 existed. There may not be in his hymns that height of doctrine 
 which is portrayed by Kent, Watts, &c, nor that depth of experience 
 which shines so transcenclently in Hart; but there is a life, and a 
 Ireathing out of that life, in most ol' tnem which is not by any means 
 approached by Watts, and which is certainly not surpassed by even 
 
IIYMN-WiUTERS AND COMPILERS. 137 
 
 Hart. A short time before he died, lie called his wife to him, and 
 requested her to write the following lines as he dictated them : 
 
 " In age and feebleness extreme, 
 Who shall a sinful worm redeem? 
 Jesus ! my only hope thou art, 
 Strength of my failing flesh and heart. 
 Oh ! could I catch a smile from thee, 
 And drop into eternity." 
 
 He said no fiend was permitted to approach him, and added, " I have 
 a good hope." On being asked if he wanted anything, he replied, 
 " Nothing but Christ." Some one said to him, " The valley is a hard 
 one to pass;" to which he replied, t; Not with Christ." Referring 
 to a person who had been a bitter enem} r , he prayed for her: U I 
 beseech thee, by thy dying and bloody sweat, that she may never feel 
 the pangs of eternal death !" His last words were, " Lord — my heart 
 • — my God!" He drew his breath gently, and his spirit departed, 
 March 29th, 1788. He was interred in the churchyard of St. Maryle- 
 bone, London, near his own residence in Chesterfield Street. His 
 brother John had much wished that he should be interred in his 
 chapel yard, where he himself hoped to be laid ; but Charles would 
 never consent. 
 
 Wesley (John) was born at Epworth, June 28th, 1703. 1 have already 
 said so much of him in various parts of this work that little remains to 
 be added. He was at one time a strenuous propagator of the doctrine 
 that man may become so perfect in the flesh as not to sin in thought, 
 word, or deed. This, however, he attributed to the special grace of 
 God, calling it perfect sanctification, or the second blessing, justifica- 
 tion being the first. He learned this doctrine from the Moravians, 
 and chiefly from one of that body named Lochler, with whom and five 
 and twenty other Moravians he and his brother Charles sailed to 
 America, in 1735, in the same ship with General Oglethorpe. Soon 
 after his return from America, in 1738, John visited Count Zinzendorf, 
 where he drank more deeply into the Moravian doctrine; but in 1740, 
 he separated himself from the Moravians, on the ground of difference on 
 on some fundamental points of doctrine. The " Gospel Magazine'' says, 
 he revived the Pelagian heresy, that a if man is not faithful in the un- 
 righteous mammon, God will not give him the true riches ;" that " nothing 
 can be more false than that a man is to do nothing in order to justifica- 
 tion ;" that "as to merit, we are rewarded according to our works, yea, 
 because o/our works, that is, as our works deserve ;' that as " whoever 
 repents is to do works meet for repentance, it must be in order to 
 find favoi* ; or what does he do them for?" that u a believer not only 
 works /ro?n life, but for life,*' &c. And certainly, as far as labor went, 
 John worked hard, as, indeed, holding such tenets, he was bound to 
 do ; for, as a good man, well known to many of my readers, sometimes 
 said, "If a man really believes he can do these things, and yet does 
 not do them, he doserves to be punished for his neglect." Wesley 
 was, therefore, really in earnest. His acts of benevolence were to the 
 utmost extent of his means, and his self-denial unbounded, nor less 
 60 his diligence in his religious duties and exercises. In 177G, he 
 received a letter from the Government, stating that they had reason 
 to believe he had some plate in his possession, on which he had not 
 paid the duty. To this Mr. W. replied, u I have two silver teaspoons 
 in London and two at Bristol. This is all the plate I have, and I 
 bhall not buy any more while so niauy around me want bread." With 
 
138 J. gadsby's memoirs of 
 
 the exception of Whitefield, no man in modern times labored more 
 abundantly in religious matters than John Wesley did, rising every 
 morning at 4 o'clock. His little work on Early Rising ought to be 
 read by all classes. At a Conference of his ministers, held Dec. 8th, 
 1762, he is reported to have said, he " defied God to find a fault in 
 some of his perfect followers, for God could not find sin in them. And 
 that he himself loved God with all his heart, and served him with all 
 his strength." Again : " Believers have no thought of anything but of 
 God alone, to whom their whole souls flow in one even stream, and in 
 whom they are swallowed up. In former times, when an evil thought 
 came in, they looked up, and it vanished away ; but now it does not 
 come in at all." Again : " Believers are freed from evil thoughts, so 
 that they cannot enter into them, no, not for one instant. They are 
 even freed from the sins of infirmities:' In the first edition of his 
 sermon on justification he is reported to have said, " There is 
 no necessity for the righteousness of Christ, and to talk of it is 
 the very quintessence of Antinomianism, yea, Antinomianism with- 
 out a mask. It is unscriptural, unfit for any man to wear. It is 
 fanciful. Believers have no such righteousness imputed to them. The 
 belief of it leads to licentiousness.'' He is also reported to have said, 
 " To talk of being clothed in the imputed righteousness of Christ is as 
 foolish as a black man to be esteemed fair, because he had on a 
 woman's garment. The Scriptures nowhere affirm the imputation of 
 Adam's sin to his posterity, or the righteousness of Christ to those 
 that believe;" " Neither the imputation of Adam's sin or of Christ's 
 righteousness have any footing either in reason or religion ;" rC He who 
 is a child of God to day may be a child of the devil to-morrow." In his 
 advice to the people concerning their dress, he desired them " not to 
 wear anything of a glaring colour, or gay ; to bo careful how it is made, 
 and how put on, so they may increase their reward and brighten their 
 crowns in heaven." He is also reported to have said that one 
 M Margaret Bood had lived two years and three weeks without offend- 
 ing God in thought, word, or deed ; and that be himself had lived for 
 one month as sinless as an angel.'' And again : " Christ knocks at the 
 door of every human heart, and when he has done knocking, the 
 day of grace is clean gone." In his sermon on Phil. iii. 12, he is re- 
 ported to have said, " Christians are now perfect, so as not to commit 
 sin, and to be freed from all evil thoughts and evil tempers." " Our 
 blessed Lord had no evil or sinful thoughts, neither have real Chris- 
 tians; for every one that is perfect is as his Master. Therefore, if 
 he was free from evil or sinful thoughts, so are they likewise. In 
 other words, no man is a real Christian, consequently not a believer, 
 who has one sinful thought; for while evil thoughts remain, I am 
 not born again," * * * " A Methodist is one whose heart love has 
 purified from envy, malice, wrath, and every unkind temper. It has 
 cleansad him from pride. All that is in his soul is holiness to the 
 Lord. There is not a motion in his heart but is according to his will. 
 Every thought that arises points to him, and is in obedience to the law 
 of Christ. He is free from wanderings in prayer. In times past he 
 had wandering thoughts darted, which yet fled away like smoke ; but 
 now that smoke does not rise at all." (See Gospel Magazine.) That 
 there are some among the Wesleyan body who still believe that 
 sinless perfection in the flesh is to be attained by the creature, is in- 
 deed true, though all of that class with whom I have ever conversed 
 on t'he subject have confessed that they have not yet attained to it ? 
 but that there are very many amongst them who, feeling and lament- 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 139 
 
 ing their daily, nay, their hourly shortcomings, would shudder at the 
 thought of their salvation depending upon their works, or of their 
 damnation being the consequence of their not working, (for some Wes- 
 leyans make a distinction here,) is, I am persuaded, no less true, and 
 I am confident that there are hundreds amongst that highly influential 
 body who do not know that their founder ever entertained such views. 
 I make these remarks, not against Mr. Wesley as a man, but to expose 
 the errors which he, in tli^ earlier part of his life, held. Maunder, 
 who cannot be accused of being very liberal in his sentiments, says, * In 
 Wesley's countenance, mildness and gravity were pleasingly blended, 
 and in old age he appeared extremely venerable; in manners, he was 
 social, polite, and conversible ; in the pulpit, he was fluent, clear, and 
 argumentative. The approach of old age did not in the least abate his 
 zeal and diligence ; and his religious services, setting aside his literary 
 and controversial labors, were almost beyond calculation." The " Pro- 
 testant Dissenters' Register," 1801, says, " That which appeared in 
 Mr. J. Wesley the most censurable part of his conduct was his very 
 unfair statement of the arguments of his Calvinistic adversaries, which, 
 in a man of his acuteness of intellect, will hardly admit the plea of un- 
 intentional mistake. " To show how he could turn even the Scriptures, 
 I may state that in his Exposition of the passage, " As many as were 
 ordained to eternal life believed/' he reverses it, and says, "As many 
 as believed were ordained to eternal life." — John was educated at 
 Charterhouse School, and thence went to Lincoln College, Oxford, 
 where, in time, he obtained a fellowship. He received his full share of 
 abuse and ill treatment as a Methodist preacher with his brother 
 Charles, Cennick, Whitefield, and others, but he never shrank from his 
 post. In Staffordshire he was once nearly murdered, and probably 
 would have been, had not one of the colliers dragged him through 
 the canal. At a place called Bedminster, near Bristol, he baptized 
 some of his followers by immersion. (See Ivimy's History of the Bap- 
 tists.) When John was about six years of age, his father's house 
 caught fire. Immediate alarm was given, and all the family, except 
 John, escaped, some of them, as Mrs. Wesley expressed it, wading 
 through the fire. When the boy was missed, old Mr. Wesley rushed 
 into the house, but found the stairs nearly consumed, so that he 
 could not ascend; and he thereupon, in utter despair, fell upon 
 his knees, and commended the soul of his child to God. John had, 
 however, been in the meantime awakened by the noise or light, 
 and had climbed upon a chest near the window, where he was seen 
 from the yard. There was no time to procure a ladder; but one man 
 was raised upon the shoulders of another, and thus the boy was 
 rescued, the roof at the same instant falling in. When the child was 
 carried round to his parents, his father exclaimed, " Come, neigh- 
 bors, let us kneel down, and give thanks to God. He has given me 
 
 all my eight children. Let the house go. I am rich enough !" 
 
 Mr. W. was once travelling in a stage-coach, when one of his com- 
 panions w r as an intelligent officer. W. was much pleased with his 
 conversation, except that the officer often took the name of God in 
 vain. When they stopped to change horses, W. called him on one 
 side, and after telling him how much he had enjoyed his company, 
 said he had one favor to ask. " What is that? ' asked the officer. " If 
 I should so far forget myself, as we journey onward," replied W., " as 
 to swear, that you will kindly check me." The reproof succeeded to 
 admiration. Mr. W. was once stopped by a highwayman, who de- 
 manded his money. W. gave it to him, but, as he was going away, he 
 
140 j. gadsby's memoirs of 
 
 called him back, and said, <c The time may come when you may regret 
 the course of life you are now pursuing. Bern ember, * the blood of 
 Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin.' " Many years afterwards a man 
 waited upon him after preaching, and told him he was that highway- 
 man. " That verse/' said he, " was the means of a total change in my 
 
 life and habits." The " Arminian Magazine" was commenced by 
 
 Mr. Wesley, and edited by him so long as he was able to attend to it. 
 For twelve years Thomas Olivers superintended it for him ; but W. 
 then dismissed him, saying, " The errors are insufferable. I have 
 borne them for twelve years, but can bear them no longer. I must 
 try whether these things cannot be altered for the short residue of my 
 
 life." In 1753, John was not expected to live, and he then wrote 
 
 his own epitaph : " Here lies the body of John Wesley, a brand, not 
 once only, plucked out of the fire. He died of a consumption, in the 
 51st year of his age, leaving, after his debts were paid, not £10 behind 
 him, praying, " God be merciful to me, an unprofitable servant !" He 
 recovered, however, and lived many years after this. When his last 
 hour was approaching, he suffered much from fever, which at times 
 affected his judgment ; but during the intervals he said, " How neces- 
 sary it is for every one to be on the right foundation ! 
 
 " I the chief of sinners am, 
 But Jesus died for me !" 
 
 He afterwards inquired what text he had preached from a little before 
 at Hampstead ; and on being told it was, 2 Cor. viii. 9, he said, 
 " That is the foundation, the only foundation. There is no other." 
 A person asked him if he might write for him, if he had anything to 
 say ; when he replied, " Nothing, but that God is with us." He then 
 sang, 
 
 " I'll praise my Maker with my breath." 
 
 A little afterwards he said, li Let me be buried in nothing but what is 
 woollen, and let my corpse be carried into the chapel;" and he then 
 begged those around his bed to pray and praise. During their prayers, 
 he frequently responded, " Amen !" He then took hold of their hands, 
 and said, " Farewell ; farewell !" Shortly afterwards he said again, 
 " The best of all is, God is with us." On his lips being wetted, he 
 said, " We thank thee, O Lord, for these and all thy mercies. Bless 
 the Church and King, and grant us truth and peace, through Jesus 
 Christ our Lord, for ever and ever." At another time he said, " The 
 clouds drop fatness;" "He causeth his servants to lie down in peace;" 
 *' The Lord is with us." Throughout the night, though he often at- 
 tempted to speak, he could only utter, £i I'll praise ! I'll praise !" The 
 next morning a friend prayed with him. He articulated, " Farewell!'* 
 and then, without a lingering groan, his spirit took its flight, March 
 2nd, 1791. He was buried in his own chapel-yard, in the City Road, 
 London. 
 
 Whitefield (George) usually called Whitfield, was born at the 
 Bell Inn, Gloucester, which his father kept, Dec. 5th, old style, (now 
 lGth,) 1714. It appears that he had early convictions of sin, but, as 
 he himself acknowledged, with shame and self-condemnation, he 
 was " so brutish as to hate instruction, and used purposely to shun 
 all opportunities of receiving it," and that he spent much money in 
 plays, cards, and romances, which were his heart's delight. Be- 
 tween the ages of 12 and 15, he made great progress at the public 
 school of St. Mary de Crypt, Gloucester. Sometimes he acted a part 
 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 141 
 
 with his fellow scholars in certain dramatic performances, prepared 
 for them by their master, which no doubt gave rise to the report that 
 he had been a public performer. At 15 he left the school, and went 
 to assist his mother at the inn. When 18, he was sent to the Uni- 
 versity at Oxford, where he was again, perhaps more than ever, ex- 
 posed to the society of the ungodly ; but having now a deep sense 
 of the fear of God, he was enabled to resist all their solicitations. 
 A few young gentlemen at the University had formed themselves into 
 a society for mutual improvement and edification, and were soon 
 distinguished, by their habits and character, from the rest. The 
 original members of this society were Mr. Morgan, Mr. Kirkham, 
 Mr. John Wesley, and his brother Charles. From the regularity of 
 their pursuits, or the strictness of their lives, the name of Metho- 
 dists was applied to them. Their number was soon increased by 
 the addition of several others. Whitefield had not resided long in 
 Oxford before he heard of these young men, and of the reproaches 
 that were cast upon them for Christ's sake. From what he had 
 neard of them, he loved them in his heart, and determined to seize 
 the first favorable opportunity of obtaining their acquaintance ; and 
 an incident at length occurred which enabled him to do so. A pauper 
 had attempted suicide, and Whitefield sent a poor woman to request 
 Charles Wesley to visit this forlorn being, and administer to her 
 spiritual instruction. He charged the messenger not to say who 
 sent her; but she chose to disobey him, and Mr. Charles, who had 
 often seen him walking alone, and had heard something of him, in- 
 vited him to breakfast on the following morning. An introduction 
 to the select society of these despised students soon followed ; and 
 WTiitefield now, like them, " began t© live by rule, and to pick up the 
 very fragments of time, that not a moment of it might be lost." The 
 number of the little society now amounted to fifteen. Tailes were 
 drawn up to guide them in self-examination, prayer, and meditation, 
 by which they hoped to obtain the love of God. In the work of 
 benevolence, Mr. Morgan took the lead. His race was short; and, 
 probably, his death was at least hastened by the austerities which 
 he practised on himself, as well as by his laborious and self-denying 
 diligence in relieving the miserable. He taught his associates to 
 visit and relieve the prisoners in the castle at Oxford, and the sick and 
 distressed every where. In these kind acts, they sought and obtained 
 the approbation of their superiors ; and a number of persons in the city, 
 who, satisfied with the goodness of their motives and the usefulness of 
 their labors, at least in this department, assisted them with money 
 to enable them to relieve the wretched. Mr. Whitefield, on uniting 
 himself with these exemplary men, not only readily submitted to their 
 rules, but, owing to the most acute mental distress, arising from his 
 deep convictions of sin and his imperfect knowledge of a Saviour, he 
 exceeded them all in his bodily austerities. " Harassed by inward 
 corruptions," (says Mr. Wilks, his successor at Tottenham Court 
 Road Chapel,) "he was resolved, Ly fasting and other bodily 
 austerities, entirely to mortify them all, that he might be the 
 better qualified to serve God without distraction. But, alas! 
 this experiment nearly cost him his life, and left him as remote from the 
 object of his wishes as at first." He earned his fasting and absti- 
 nence to such an extreme, that his body was so emaciated and feeble 
 that he could hardly walk up stairs. In his own account, Whitefield 
 says, " Whenever I knelt down, I felt great pressure both in soul and 
 body, and have often prayed under the weight of them till the sweat 
 
142 j. gidsby's memoirs op 
 
 came through me. Whole days and weeks have I spent in lying 
 prostrate on the ground in silent or vocal prayer. Ahout the end of 
 the seventh week, after having undergone innumerable bufferings of 
 Satan, and many months' inexpressible trials by night and by day 
 under the spirit of bondage, God was pleased at length to remove 
 the heavy load, to enable me to lay hold on his dear Son by a living 
 faith, and by giving me the Spirit of adoption, to seal me, as I hum- 
 bly hope, even to the day of everlasting redemption. But O with 
 what joy, joy unspeakable, even joy that was full of and big with glory, 
 was my soul filled when the weight of sin went off, and an abiding 
 sense of the pardoning love of God, and a full assurance of faith, 
 broke in upon my disconsolate soul ! At first my joys were like a 
 spring tide, and, as it were, overflowed the banks. Go where I would 
 I cculd not avoid the singing of psalms almost aloud." His knowledge 
 of salvation by the righteousness of Christ was prior to that time 
 extremely superficial, but he soon received considerable assistance 
 upon this and some other truths of the gospel, by reading an old 
 author and by conversing with Charles "Wesley, and others of the 
 Society. He always designated Charles his spiritual father. When 
 about 21, his exemplary conduct attracted the notice of Bishop Ben- 
 son, as mentioned in my account of Lady Huntingdon, who not only 
 encouraged him in his work, but gave him money and " ordained " 
 him. He preached his first sermon in his native city. Before preach- 
 ing it, he sent it to a friend for his opinion. His friend preached 
 it to his own congregation, and then returned it to Whitefield with 
 a guinea. After his first sermon, complaint was made to the bishop 
 that Whitefield had driven 15 of his hearers mad by his discourse; 
 to which the bishop replied, he " wished the madness might continue 
 till the next Sunday." From this time his preaching became in- 
 cessant. His first sermon in London was preached in Bishopsgate 
 church, in August, 1738. The churches everywhere were sometimes 
 so crowded, " that people hung upon the rails, while others climbed 
 up the leads, altogether making the place so hot, that the steam 
 would fall from the pillars like drops of rain. Thousands went away 
 from the largest churches, unable to get in, and constables often 
 had to be placed at the doors to prevent accidents from over pres- 
 sure." Sometimes he was almost dead with heat and fatigue. 
 Thrice a day he was lifted upon his horse, unable to mount otherwise; 
 then rode and preached, and afterwards threw himself upon two or 
 three chairs to rest. Having a very young appearance, the people 
 were surprised, and seemed to sneer, as he went up to the pulpit; 
 but they had not heard him long, w r hen their contempt w r as turned into 
 respect, and their jeers into grave attention, and even at this early date 
 in his career hundreds were awakened who had been going on, seem- 
 ingly bent on sealing their own destruction sure. In January, 1738, de- 
 spite the entreaties of his friends, he went to America. He was induced 
 to take this step by the return of Charles Wesley, seeking for more 
 laborers amongst the Indians. America at that time, be itremembered, 
 was one of the British colonies, its independence not being declared 
 until 1793. John Wesley advised Whitefield not to go, and said he had 
 asked counsel of God; but it appeared he had only drawn lots, and 
 Whitefield was not disposed to trust to such " counsel" as that. The 
 ship in which Whitefield sailed was filled with soldiers, whose whole 
 time, at first, was taken up with swearing, card-playing, &c. ; but, by 
 the blessing of God, before they had been long out, the ship was turned 
 into a Bethel. Writing in the cabin, he says, " Blessed be God, we 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 143 
 
 now talk of little else but God and Christ. As the ship touched at 
 Gibraltar, Whitefield landed, and was invited by the governor and 
 military officers to their tables. He preached often, and was heard 
 by all. Strange and unusual was the scene, both with respect to 
 the place and the people. The adjacent promontories, and the large- 
 ness of the rock of Gibraltar, helped him to enlarge in his ideas of Him, 
 who "in his strength setteth fast the mountains, and is girded about 
 with power." On leaving Gibraltar, a fever broke out in the ship, and 
 "Whitefield was unremitting in his attentions to the sick, until he 
 was himself attacked ; but, through God's mercy, all recovered ex- 
 cept one, and he had boasted that he would be wicked until two 
 years of his death, and then reform. An idea having been suggested 
 by Charles Wesley that an orphan house should be established in 
 Georgia, Whitefield, on his arrival in America, followed it up, and 
 never rested until he saw its fulfilment. Some writers say that it was 
 Whitefield's own suggestion, and not Charles Wesley's. His labors were 
 much blessed while in Georgia, some seed having been already sown by 
 the Wesleys and Mr. Ingham. In Sept. of the same year, Whitefield 
 embarked to return to England. It was a very trying passage, both 
 water and provisions being short. " The only thing comfortable was, 
 that, in the midst of these trials, deep impressions were made on 
 some that were on board." Once the captain cried out, " Lord, break 
 this hard heart of mine." At length the ship reached Limerick 
 harbour. The bishop invited W. to preach in the cathedral, which 
 he did; whence he proceeded to Dublin, Manchester, and various 
 parts of England, preaching at each place, and then made his 
 way to London.* * * * As his congregations increased, so 
 opposition grew and increased also. Complaints of his preaching were 
 even laid before the King, George II., and he said the best way to 
 silence him would be to make him a bishop. Nearly every church 
 door was closed against him, which was a source of great grief to 
 him, as he still considered himself a strict churchman ; but, in these 
 prohibitions, Satan outwitted himself; for Whitefield, having few or 
 no churches in whish he could preach, decided to commence preach- 
 * On one occasion, when at Itotherham, a Mr. Thorpe, with three 
 other persons, laid wagers as to which could mimic W. the best. It was 
 arranged that each should open the Bible, and hold forth from the first 
 text that should present itself* to his eye. Accordingly three in their 
 turn mounted the table, and profanely entertained their wicked com- 
 panions. When they had exhausted their stock, it devolved on Mr. 
 Thorpe to close the scene. Much elated, and confident of success, 
 he exclaimed, as he ascended the table, " I shall beat you all!" When the 
 Bible was handed to him, by the guidance of an unerring Providence 
 it opened at that striking passage, "Except ye repent, ye shall all like- 
 wise perish. , ' No sooner had he uttered the words than his mind was 
 affected in a very extraordinary manner. The sharpest pangs of convic- 
 tion seized him, and the holy Law of God denounced tremendous ven- 
 geance upon his soul. In a moment he was favored by the blessed Spirit 
 with a clear view of the subject, and he frequently afterwards declared, 
 "If ever I preached in my life, by the assistance of the Spirit of God, 
 it was at that time." The impression that the subject made upon his 
 mind had such an effect upon his manner, that his address, instead of en- 
 tertaining the company, first spread a visible depression, and afterwards 
 a deep gloom upon every countenance. The result was his conversion to 
 God, his separation from his former companions, and his entrance into 
 the Christian ministry. He became pastor of the church at Masborough, 
 in Yorkshire, where he continued usefully to labor for 13 years, till his 
 death in 1776. 
 
144 J. GADSbtf'S MEMOIRS OP 
 
 mg in the open air. "I thought," says he, "it might be doing the 
 service of my Lord, who had a mountain for his pulpit, and 
 the heavens for his sounding board; and who, when his gospel was 
 refused by the Jews, sent his servants into the highways and 
 hedges." He began amongst the colliers in the neighborhood 
 of Bristol, having about 100 for his first audience; but in a very 
 little while the congregations increased to nearly twenty thousand; 
 and with what gladness and eagerness these outcasts, who had never 
 been in a church in their lives, received the word, is above descrip- 
 tion. ' ; Having," as he writes, "no righteousness of their own to 
 renounce, they were glad to hear of Jesus, who was a friend to 
 publicans, and came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repent- 
 ance." The first discovery of their being affected was, to see the 
 white gutters made by their tears, which plentifully fell down their 
 black cheeks, as they came out of their coal-pits. Hundreds and 
 hundreds of them were soon brought under deep convictions, which 
 in many (as the event proved) happily ended in a sound and thorough 
 conversion. The change was visible to all, though numbers chose 
 to impute it to any thing rather than to the finger of God. " As the 
 scene was quite new," I now quote Whitefield's own words, and I 
 had just begun to be an extempore preacher, it often occasioned many 
 inward conflicts. Sometimes, when twenty thousand people were 
 before me, I had not. in my own apprehension, a word to say either 
 to God or them. But I was never totally deserted, and was frequently 
 (for to deny it would be lying against God) so assisted, that I knew 
 by happy experience what our Lord meant by saying, ' Out of his 
 belly shall How rivers of living water.' The open firmament above 
 me, the prospect of the adjacent fields, with the sight of thousands 
 and thousands, some in coaches, some on horseback, and some in 
 the trees, &c, at all times affected and drenched in tears together, 
 to which, sometimes, was added the solemnity of the approaching 
 evening, was almost too much for, and quite overcame me." Finding his 
 preaching in the fields was attended with so remarkable a blessing, 
 he ventured on Lord's Day, April 29th, 1739, into Moorfields, London, 
 which was then the resort of the basest classes of society. Public 
 notice having been given, he found an incredible number of people 
 assembled. Many had told him that he would not come out of that 
 place alive ; but instead of the people hurting him, they behaved with 
 as much quietness as if they had been in a building. The same 
 evening he went to Kennington Common, where he had again 
 thousands for his congregation, and afterwards xoreached often there, 
 at Blackheath, and in Moorfields, making occasional visits to Glou- 
 cester, Bristol, &c. &c. Everywhere the word seemed to sink deeper 
 and deeper, and singing and praying were heard instead of cursing and 
 swearing, at least 40,000, and even 50,000 people, as W. himself as- 
 serted, being sometimes assembled. The singing, it has been said, 
 could be heard for more than two miles. He had frequently collections 
 for his orphan-house, and sometimes no less than £20 was given in 
 copper alone, besides vast sums in gold and silver. * * * * In 
 August, 173;), he again went to America, carrying with him upwards 
 of £1,000, with which he laid the foundation of the orphan-house in 
 Georgia. Before leaving, he wrote to John Wesley, and, after some 
 difficulty, prevailed upon him to follow his example in field preaching. 
 In various parts of America, Whitefield continued his field preaching, 
 having sometimes 10,000 people to hear him, often in the woods. He 
 travelled through New York, the Jerseys, Maryland, Virginia, the Ca- 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 145 
 
 rolinas, &c, preaching in each place. On arriving at Savannah, in 
 Georgia, he visited the spot of ground on which lie intended to have 
 the orphan -house built, and named it Bethesda. During this visit to 
 America, Whitefield heard of a drinking club that had a negro boy 
 attending them, who used to mimic people for their diversion. The 
 gentlemen bade him mimic Mr. AVhitefield, which he was very unwil- 
 ling to do; but as they insisted upon it, he stood up and said, " I speak 
 the truth in Christ; I lie not. Unless you repent, you will all be 
 damned !" This unexpected speech broke up the club, and it never 
 met afterwards. W. also visited the gracious Jonathan Edwards, of 
 whom my readers have doubtless heard. He also formed an acquaintance 
 with the celebrated Dr. Franklin, but had no reason to believe that any 
 saving change was ever wrought in him. Franklin once invited White- 
 field to lodge with him, when W. said, "If the invitation be for Christ's 
 sake, I will cheerfully accept it;" to which F. replied, "It is not for 
 Christ's sake, but for your sake." Dr. F. related the following anec- 
 dote respecting himself. "I happened," said he, "to attend one of his 
 sermons, in the course of which 1 perceived he intended to finish with 
 a collection, and I silently resolved he should get nothing from me. I 
 had in my pocket a handful of copper money, three or four silver dol- 
 lars, and five pistoles in gold. As he proceeded, I began to soften, 
 and concluded to give the copper. Another stroke of his oratory made 
 me ashamed of that, and determined me to give the silver; and he 
 finished so admirably, that I emptied my pocket wholly into the col- 
 lector's dish, — gold and all. At this sermon there was one of our club, 
 who, being of my sentiments respecting the building in Georgia, and 
 suspecting a collection might be intended, had, by precaution, emptied 
 his pockets before he came from home. Towards the conclusion of 
 the discourse, however, he felt a strong inclination to give, and applied 
 to a neighbor who stood near him to lend him some money for the 
 purpose." It must, indeed, have been an extraordinary sermon which 
 could draw money out of Franklin's pockets, for he was the king of dollar- 
 worshippers. In March, 17-41, W. returned to England, when he com- 
 menced preaching in Moorfields on xceek days. For many years it 
 had been the custom, in the holiday seasons, to erect booths in Moor- 
 fields for mountebanks, puppet-shows, &c. On Whit-Monday, 1742, 
 Whitefield, at six o'clock in the morning, went to Moorfields, and 
 preached to a large congregation. At noon he went again, his text 
 being, " Great is Diana of the Ephesians," when, to use his own 
 words, he "could not help smiling to see thousands, t\ hen a merry- 
 andrew was trumpeting to them, deserting him to a man, and 
 flocking to hear me." But this, together with a complaint that they 
 had taken .£20 or £30 less that day than usual, so enraged the owners 
 of the booths that in the evening, when Mr. W. again went to preach, 
 they hired a mob to upset him; but, instead of that, they quarrelled 
 amongst themselves, and many of them joined Mr. W. A merry- 
 andrew, however, got on a man's shoulders, and lashed Mr. W. with 
 a whip. A recruiting serjeant was also sent amongst the people, with 
 a drum, &c; but Mr. W. calmly desired them to make way for the 
 king's officer, which was done. Mr. W. continued for about three 
 hours, and then went to the Tabernacle, and was followed by thou- 
 sands. He afterwards received fit least a thousand notes from per- 
 sons under convictions. Some he married, who had lived together 
 without marriage. One man had exchanged his wife for another, and 
 given fourteen shillings in exchange. Numbers who seemed, as it 
 were, to have been bred up for Tyburn, were, at that time, plucked as 
 firebrands out of the burning. * * * But about this time, or a little 
 
146 j. gadsby's memoirs of 
 
 "before, a painful change took place. Mr. John Wesley had preached 
 a sermon, entitled, " Free Grace," in which he called election the " hor- 
 rible decree." Whitefield prevailed upon him not to publish this ser- 
 mon ; but when Whitefield went to America, Wesley did publish it, 
 stating, in the preface, that " nothing but the strongest conviction, not 
 only that what is here advanced is the truth as it is in Jesus, but also* 
 that he was indispensably obliged to declare this truth to all the 
 world," could have induced him to publish, &c. In reply to this, 
 Whitefield said, "Give me leave to take a little notice of what you 
 term an indispensable obligation to make your sermon public to all 
 the world. The case, you know, stands thus : When you were at 
 Bristol you drew a lot [respecting this sermon,] and the answer was, 
 ' Preach and print' I have often questioned, as I do now, whether, 
 in so doing, you did not tempt the Lord. Besides, I never heard that 
 you inquired of God whether or not election was a gospel doctrine." 
 Thus, Wesley's strong conviction arose, not from the inward voice of 
 God, but from the mere drawing of a lot — a practice to which he 
 was greatly addicted. Whitefield then goes on to answer the sermon, 
 which he does in a scriptural manner; but of course this cannot 
 he entered upon here. Suffice it to say, that a breach ensued. God's 
 free grace and man's free will could not walk together. Wesley 
 had disguised his errors for a time, but they were now too transparent 
 to be mistaken. Whitefield was joined by Cennick, Humphreys, Charles 
 Wesley, &c, but was deserted by thousands who had professed to be his 
 friends ; so that on one occasion, on Kennington Common, he had not 
 more than 100 persons to hear him. All his work, he said, had to be 
 begun again. But one day he was exceedingly refreshed while read- 
 ing Beza's Life of Calvin, wherein are these words : " Calvin is turned 
 out of Geneva, but, behold, a new church arises." So far did Wesley 
 carry his animosity, for it would be idle to give it any milder term, 
 that he positively refused to allow Whitefield to preach in the Foundry at 
 Bristol, though Whitefield had established it, and, unwittingly enough, 
 placed Wesley over it. But I must not dwell upon this. If one door 
 were closed, others were opened, and Whitefield was soon followed by 
 as many thousands as before. Mr. Erskine invited him to Scotland, 
 and thither he went several times, preaching in many places, and re- 
 turning home through Wales.* He also twice visited Ireland. At 
 Dublin, on one occasion, he was nearly stoned to death by a Popish 
 mob. With great difficulty he was carried into a house, and his bleed- 
 ing wounds washed ; but, on his recovering, the lady of the house de- 
 sired him to depart, as she feared the mob would pull the house down. 
 A carpenter lent him his wig and coat, in which to disguise himself; 
 but he had no sooner put them on than he cast them off, saying he 
 was ashamed of not trusting his Master. Two friends now brought 
 a coach, into which W. stepped, and drove along several streets lined 
 with Papists, uttering the most horrid oaths and imprecations. On 
 reaching his lodgings, he said, " I leave my persecutors to the mercy 
 of Him who of persecutors has often made preachers. I pray God I 
 may be thus avenged on them." A surgeon having dressed his wounds, 
 
 * On one occasion, while in Edinburgh, a gentleman returning from 
 one of his sermons was met by an eminent minister whom he usually 
 heard, and who expressed great surprise that he should go to hear such a 
 man. The gentleman replied, " Sir, when I hear you, I am planting 
 trees all the time ; but, during the whole of Mr. Whitefield' s sermon, 
 I never found time to plant one." A similar instance is related of a 
 shipbuilder, who usually could " build a ship from stem to stern during 
 the sermon, but, under Mr. Whitefield, could not lay a single plank." 
 
 
HYHX-WBITERS AND COMPILERS. 117 
 
 he went into the preaching- room, and, after a few words of exl. 
 
 tion, joined in a hymn of praise. At Plymouth lie was in the u: 
 danger of being assassinated, four gentlemen having laid the plan. 
 One of these invited him to sup with him at a tavern, but Mr. W. 
 declined, but said he should be glad to see the gentleman tit his lodg- 
 ings. He accordingly went and supped; but he was observed fre- 
 quently to look around him, and to be very absent. At last he took 
 his leave, and returned to his companions in the tavern. On b sing 
 asked by them what he had done, he answered, he had been used so 
 civilly, that he had not the heart to touch him. Upon which another 
 of the company, a lieutenant of a man-of-war, laid a wager of ten gui- 
 neas that he would do his business for him. His companions, how- 
 ever, had the precaution to take away his sword. It was now about 
 midnight, and AYhitefield. having that day preached to a large congre- 
 gation, and visited the French prisoners, was gone to bed, when the 
 landlady came and told him that a well-dressed gentleman desired to 
 speak with him. Whitefield, imagining it was some one under con- 
 viction, desired him to be brought up. He came, and sat down by 
 the bed-side, congratulated him on the success of his ministry, and ex- 
 pressed much concern at being detained from hearing him. Soon 
 after, he broke out into the most abusive language, and, in a cruel and 
 cowardly manner, beat W. in his bed. The landlady and her daugh- 
 ter, hearing the noise, rushed into the room, and seized upon him; 
 but he soon disengaged himself from them, and repeated his blows on 
 Mr. W., who, being apprehensive that he intended to shoot or stab 
 him, underwent all the surprise of a sudden and violent death. After- 
 wards a second came into the house, and cried out from the bottom of 
 the stairs, " Take courage, I am ready to help you." But, by the re- 
 peated cry of " Murder!" the alarm was now so great, that they both 
 made off. " The next morning," says Whitefield, " I was to expound 
 at a private house, and then set out for Bideford. Some urged me to 
 stay and prosecute, but, being better employed, I went on my intended 
 journey, was greatly blessed in preaching the everlasting gospel, and, 
 upon my return, was well paid for what 1 had suffered, curiosity having 
 led perhaps two thousand more than ordinary to see and hear a man 
 that had like to have been murdered in his bed. And I trust, in the 
 five weeks that I waited for the convoy, hundreds were awakened and 
 turned unto the Lord. Could the fields between Plymouth and the 
 Dock [now called Devonport] speak, they could tell what blessed sea- 
 sons were enjoyed there." A remarkable effect of his preaching here 
 is recorded by himself. There was a ferry over to Plymouth, and the 
 ferrymen were now so much attached to him that they would take 
 nothing of the multitudes that crossed to hear him preach, saying, 
 "God forbid that we should sell the word of God!" In L744, W. 
 again sailed for America, where he thought of staying the remainder 
 of his days; but, finding a heavy debt on his orphan-house, and him- 
 self being in a feeble state of health, he embarked, in March, 1748, 
 for the Bermudas, and in the following July again reached England. 
 Eefore he left, he was at one time so unwell, and so " wonderfully 
 comforted within/' that he thought he was dying; and he heard his 
 friends say, " He is gone !" " But God,', he says, lt was pleased to 
 order it otherwise. I gradually recovered; and soon after, a poor 
 negro woman would see me. She came, sat down upon the ground, 
 and looked earnestly in my face, and then said, in broken language, 
 ' Massa, you just go to heaven's gate, but Jesus Christ said, Get you 
 down, get you down ; you must not come here yet ; but go first, and 
 eall some more poor negroes.' I prayed to the Lord if I were to live, 
 
148 j. gadsby's memoirs of 
 
 this might be the event." He was offered at one place £800 per year, 
 to preach to them only six months in the year ; but he declined the 
 offer. On his arrival in England, the celebrated Countess of Hun- 
 tingdon sent for him, stating that several of the nobility desired to 
 hear him. She subsequently appointed him her chaplain, and he 
 opened several of her chapels. (See my account of Lady Huntingdon 
 for the particulars.*) In 1751 he again went to America, returning 
 to England the following year. In 1754 he again went to America, 
 taking with him twenty-two destitute children for his orphan-house, 
 and returned in the following year. He this time sailed by the way 
 of Lisbon, where he remained about three weeks, and subsequently 
 published an account of his visit, and of the abominations he beheld, 
 in a little tract entitled, " Whitefield at Lisbon." In 1753, the Taber- 
 nacle, as it now stands (having previously been only a temporary 
 shed) in Moorlields, was opened, and in 1756 he erected the chapel in 
 Tottenham Court Road. A neighboring doctor called it Whiteneld's 
 soul-trap ; and Whitefield at the opening prayed that it might be found 
 a. soul-trap indeed to many wandering creatures. In 17C0 a new play 
 -was got up entitled the Minor, in which Whitefield was held up to 
 contempt ; but the only result was, larger and still larger congrega- 
 tions. Even the great comedian, Foote, could only muster an audi- 
 ence of ten persons to witness it the second night. In 1702, being 
 greatly debilitated by incessant labor, and having previously thrown 
 up a large quantity of blood, he went to Holland for his health, where 
 he was made instrumental " to the calling in of many souls." In 
 1763, he went the sixth time to America, returned to England in 
 1765, and again, for the seventh and last time, went to America in 
 1769, where he died, about 18 hours after preaching. As he was 
 choked with asthma, he was unable to speak much in his last hours. 
 Before he went out to preach his last sermon, a friend said to him, 
 " You are more fit to go to bed than to preach." To which Whitefield 
 
 * Soon after Lady H.'s connexion with Whitefield, the then Prince of 
 Wales once inquired where Lady H. was, that she so seldom went to 
 Court ; when one of the ladies replied with a sneer, " O ! I suppose pray- 
 ing with her beggars!" The prince shook his head, and said, " Lady 
 Charlotte, when I am dying, I think I shall be happy to seize the skirt 
 of her mantle, to carry me up with her to heaven." Some ladies once 
 complained to Lady H. that Whitefield had declared Jesus Christ was so 
 willing to receive sinners that he even received the devil's castaways. 
 On Lady H. mentioning the circumstance to Whitefield, which she did in 
 presence of the said ladies, he said he well remembered saying so. " That 
 poor miserable looking woman," he continued, "who has just gone 
 away, told me she was accidentally passing the door of the chapel, when 
 she turned in, and one of the first things she heard me say was that Jesus 
 Christ would even receive the devil's castaways. ' 0, Sir ? ' she said,' I 
 have been on the town for many years, and am so worn out in the devil's 
 service that I may indeed be called one of his castaways. Do you think, 
 Sir, that Jesus Christ would receive me ?' " What an answer was this 
 to the mock-modesty of the ladies ! I may add that the poor woman 
 became a true penitent and a Christian indeed. A peer once said to Lady 
 H.'s son, "I wish you would speak to Lady H. She has just erected a 
 preaching-place close to my residence." "Most gladly, my Lord," re- 
 plied her son, who unhappily was not a believer, though he reverenced 
 his aged mother, "but you must tell me -what plea to urge, for my mother 
 really believes the Bible." My reader must excuse my thus mixing up 
 various persons, such as Lady H., Whitefield, Toplady, Romaine, &c, for 
 they were. really so interwoven in their lives that it is difficult to separate 
 them now. In recording the various incidents, I look more to interest 
 than regularity. 
 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 149 
 
 answered, " True, Sir ;" but, turning aside, he clasped Ins hands toge- 
 ther, and, looking up, said, " Lord Jesus, I am weary in thy work, but 
 not o/thy work. If I have not yet finished my course, let me go and 
 speak for thee once more in the fields, seal thy truth, and come homo 
 and die." He then rode 15 miles to Exeter, and preached in the 
 fields to a great multitude, from 2 Cor. iii. 5. He was evidently then 
 in a dying state. He remained for several minutes unable to speak, 
 *nd then said, " I will wait for the gracious assistance of God, for he 
 will, I am certain, assist me once more to speak in his name." He 
 afterwards exclaimed, " My body fails ; my spirit expands ! How wil- 
 lingly would I live for ever, to preach Christ ; but I die to be with 
 him !" He dined, and then rode to Newbury Port. Here he supped, 
 and retired to bed early. He slept till 2 o'clock in the morning, 
 and then awoke his friend. He seemed to pant for breath, and 
 said, "My asthma is coming on again." His friend said to him, "I 
 wish you would not preach so often ;" to which he replied, " I would 
 rather wear out than rust out." He then sat up in bed, and prayed 
 that God would be pleased to bless his preaching where he had been, 
 and also bless his preaching that day, that more souls might be 
 brought to Christ; and then he laid himself down to sleep again. This 
 was near 3 o'clock. At a quarter past 4 he awoke, and said, u My 
 asthma, my asthma is coming on. I wish I had not given out to 
 preach at Haverill, on Monday ; I don't think I shall be able; but I 
 shall see what to-day will bring forth. If I am no better to-morrow, 
 I will take two or three days' ride!' He then desired his friend to 
 warm him a little gruel. Being asked how he felt himself, he an- 
 swered, "I am almost suffocated. I can scarcely breathe, my asthma 
 quite chokes me." He got out of bed, and went to the open window 
 for air. This was exactly at 5 o'clock. Soon afterwards, he turned him- 
 self, and said, " lam dying." He ran to the other window, panting for 
 breath, but could get no relief. A doctor was sent for, but his eyes 
 became fixed, his under lip drawing inward every time he drew breath. 
 When the doctor came in, he felt his pulse, and then said, " He is a 
 dead man." Mr.JP. said, "I do not believe it. You must do some- 
 thing, doctor ! ' He said, " I cannot. He is now near his last breath." 
 And indeed so it was ; for he fetched but one gasp, stretched out his 
 feet, and breathed no more. This was exactly at G o'clock in the morn- 
 ing, Sept. 30th, 1770. * * * His preaching was perpetual, he hav- 
 ing preached upwards of 18,000 sermons. For more than ten days 
 together, he sometimes preached thrice a day. A physician onco 
 prescribed for him, when he was unwell, a perpetual blister ; but, said 
 W., " I have found perpetual preaching to be a better remedy. When 
 this grand catholicon fails, it is over with me." And so indeed it was, 
 for he preached to the last. Throughout the length and breadth of 
 the United Kingdom, America, &c, his voice was over and over again 
 heard; and certainly no man's labors, of whom we have any account 
 left, were so abundantly blessed from the time of Luther. His voice 
 was one of the most wonderful ever given to man, for he could, as it 
 were, accommodate it cither to the softest melody or the most appal- 
 ling thunder, so as to draw by the sweet notes of the Gospel, or awaken 
 by the terrors of the Law. The ears of his congregations were nailed 
 to the doorposts, as though an irresistible charm were upon them. 
 Tears flowed in abundance, and sobs of joy w T ere ofttimes audible. No 
 doubt, as I have said in my account of Lady Huntingdon, there was 
 much wildfire mixed with this, for where is there a fire without 6moke/ 
 Yet, beyond all doubt, thousands were really brought to a saving 
 knowledge of themselves and of Christ. Before, all was death, alike 
 
150 J. GADSBYS MEMOIRS OF 
 
 in the pulpit and the pew ; now all seemed life, in the fields and the 
 pews, if not in the pulpit. I would not give a pin for a sermon which 
 does not get into the people's hearts ; and I am sure if it find its way 
 there — into the inner man, the outer man will give signs of emotion. 
 There will be either the downcast penitent look, the heaving shoulder 
 or the falling tear. I remember having somewhere read of a certain 
 theatrical performer, who was asked by a clergyman how it was that 
 people would fall asleep under a sermon who would be greatly affected 
 by a play ; to which the performer replied, " The reason is, you speak 
 truth as if it were falsehood, as if you were ashamed of it; while we 
 speak falsehood as if it were truth." There may, of course, be the 
 passionate weeping, or the heaving, nay, even the agonising body, 
 where there is no life ; but there cannot be much life where there is 
 no motion. Under Whitefield's sermons there was both life and mo- 
 tion. It is true that in his printed sermons, though sometimes pa- 
 thetic, at others sublime, we can see nothing which should have caused 
 such outbursts of feeling in his audiences ; but it was his thrilling 
 eloquence, and the power which accompanied the word as spoken, 
 suited as it often was to circumstances passing at the moment before 
 their eyes, which aroused their attention, and seemed unmistakably 
 to say, "Thou art the man !" The celebrated Hervey once said in a 
 letter to Whitefielcl, * { Your journals and sermons, and especially that 
 sweet sermon on, " What think ye of Christ ?" were a means of bring- 
 ing me to the knowledge of the truth." During the time that White- 
 field preached in Long Acre, a person named Crane went to Drury 
 Lane Theatre ; but, finding it full, he passed into the next street to 
 Covent Garden Theatre. This he found full also; therefore went on 
 until he came to Long Acre, close by the two theatres. Here he 
 turned in to hear Whitefield, and the Lord met with him there. This 
 person was afterwards steward of the orphan-house in Georgia. ("I 
 am found of them that sought me not.") But hundreds of similar 
 cases might be recorded. The extent of Whitefield's usefulness will 
 never be known here. The collections that he was enabled to make 
 for any cause he took in hand were astonishing. He took over to 
 America about £14,000 for his orphan asylum, and collected upwards 
 of £1,500 for the Protestants in Prussia, who had suffered so much 
 from the cruelty of the Russians. In the " Christian Magazine" for 
 1701, I find the following: " February 13th, 1761, the collections 
 made this day at Mr. Whitefield's Tabernacle, and the Chapel in Tot- 
 tenham Court, for the sufferers by the late terrible fire at Boston, and 
 the plundered Protestants in the New March at Branclenburgh, 
 amounted to upwards of £550." Whitefield once visited his friend 
 Kinsman, at Plymouth. On the Monday morning, he said to Kins- 
 man, " Come, let us go to some of the poor and afflicted of your flock." 
 They went, and W. administered not only spiritual but temporal con- 
 solation, the latter indeed so bountifully that K., knowing that his 
 means were very limited, give him a gentle hint that he had been too 
 liberal. To this W. rather smartly replied, " It is not enough, young 
 man, to pray and put on a serious countenance. True religion is this, 
 to visit the fatherless, &c. My stock, it is true, is nearly exhausted ; 
 but God, whose servant I am, will, I doubt not, soon send me a supply. 
 In the evening, while they were at prayer in the family, a stranger 
 came, and, on being introduced to W., said, "You are on a journey, 
 and travelling is expensive. Will you do me the honor of accepting 
 this ?" putting five guineas into his hand. Mr. W. heartily thanked 
 him, and then returned to the family with the money in his hand. 
 " There young man," said he to Kinsman, " God has soon repaid me. 
 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 151 
 
 Let this be a lesson to you." Whitefield ever had low views of himself, 
 not in words merely, hut absolutely. " Fifty-four years old last Tues- 
 day," he once wrote to a friend. " God be merciful to me a sinner ! 
 a sinner! a sinner! ' Less than the least' must be my motto still." 
 Speaking of Whitefield, John Newton says, " I bless God that I have 
 lived in his time. Many were the winter mornings I have got up at 
 4, to attend his Tabernacle discourses at 5; and I have seen Moor- 
 fields as full of lanterns at these times as I suppose the Haymarket is 
 full of flambeaux on an opera night. As a preacher, if any man were 
 to ask me who was the second man I ever had heard, I should be at 
 some loss ; but, in regard to the first, Whitefield so far exceeded every 
 other man of my time, that I should be at none. He was the original 
 of popular preaching, and all our popular ministers are only his copies." 
 And Toplady says, "I deem myself happy in having an opportunity of 
 publicly avowing the inexpressible esteem in which I held this won- 
 derful man, and the affectionate veneration which I must ever retain 
 for the memory of one, whose acquaintance and ministry were attended 
 with the most important spiritual benefit to me, and to tens of thou- 
 sands besides. It will not be saying too much, if I term him The 
 Apostle of the English Empire, in point of zeal for God, a long course 
 of indefatigable and incessant labors, unparalleled disinterestedness, 
 and astonishingly extensive usefulness. England has had the honor 
 of -producing the greatest men, in almost every walk of useful know- 
 ledge. At the head of these are, Milton the prince of poets ; Newton, 
 the rjrince of philosophers; Whitefield, the prince of preachers." 
 To this Romaine adds his testimony ■ " Whitefield's preaching is over. 
 Now he is praising. We have none left to succeed him ; none with 
 his gifts ; none anything like him in usefulness." * * * I met 
 some time ago with an old copy of Whitefield's Experience, &c 9 
 written by himself. I exceedingly regret that I cannot insert it here, 
 as it is remarkably interesting. I have, however, published it in a cheap 
 form, price 4d.* All the accounts of his life that I have been able 
 to meet with have passed this by nearly altogether, and sadly mutilated 
 what they have inserted. But it is too valuable to be lost, though it 
 will not suit our modern religionists. 
 
 Williams (William) was born, in 1717, at Cefnycoed, in the parish 
 of Llanfair-ar-y-bryn, Carmarthenshire. He was well educated, as he 
 was intended for the medical profession. " His religious feelings," 
 says his biographer, " were at first painful. His convictions of sin 
 were deep and alarming ; but his subsequent joy proportionably high." 
 In 1740 he was ordained a deacon by the Bishop of St. David's, and 
 had the curacies, for three years, of Llanwrtyd and Llanddewi Aber- 
 gwesin. Whitefield, with whom, and the other Methodists, including 
 the Countess of Huntingdon, he became intimate, encouraged him to 
 become an itinerant preacher, and the bishop consequently would not 
 give him " full orders." He did not suffer so much as some of the 
 Methodists did ; but he was more than once in danger of losing his 
 life. His labors were perpetual and were greatly blessed. He is said 
 
 * It was, as near as I can calculate from the dates, during the last 
 visit of Whitefield to America, that John Marrant, the trumpeter, an 
 interesting account of whose life is published in a littlr- tract, as written 
 by himself, was stopped in his profane career, just as he was raising 
 his horn to give a blast and disturb the congregation. No sooner had 
 Whitefield read his text, " Prepare to meet thy God!" than he w£.s struck 
 to the ground, and lay speechless for some time. (See a Narrative cf the 
 Life of John Marrant, price 3d., published by me.) 
 
152 j. gadsby's memoirs op 
 
 to have travelled on an average 2,230 miles in a year for 43 years ; 
 and travelling, it must be remembered, was not then so easy as it is 
 now. There were no railroads, and but few stage-coaches. His final 
 illness was caused by study, while writing a work entitled, " A View of 
 the Kingdom of Christ." In his last moments his speech failed him ; 
 but he is said to have been in that happy state of mind as to cause 
 those present to exclaim, " May we die the death of the righteous, 
 and may our latter end be like his." He died Jan. 11th, 1791, at 
 Pantycelyn, and was buried in the churchyard at Llanfair-ar-y-bryn. 
 Williams was justly called the Welsh poet. His hymns are now much 
 used in Wales. The first book he published was called " Hallelujah." 
 In 3 762, his book of hymns, called " A Sea of Glass," was issued. He 
 afterwards published other little books. He also wrote several prose 
 works, and, in 1772, a small hymn book, " Gloria in Excelsis," (Glory- 
 in the Highest,) which was intended for Whitefield's orphan-house in 
 America. In this book is the following very appropriate hymn : 
 " O'er the gloomy hills of darkness." 
 
 In 1759 he wrote a little book, called, " Hosanna to the Son of David. r> 
 His hymns, 
 
 " Guide me, thou great Jehovah;' 
 
 " Jesus, lead me by thy power •" 
 
 are well known. The former is said to have been translated by Mr. 
 Middleton, and first published in 1793 ; but this cannot be, as I found 
 it in Madan's book, dated 1776. Beyond doubt, however, it is Wil- 
 liams's. Mr. Morgan, vicar of Syston, Leicestershire, from whose 
 account of Williams I have extracted much of the above, says that a 
 Mr. Harries is about to publish all Williams's hymns. I should much 
 like to see them. In Evans's " Sketch of all Beligions," Williams is 
 said to have belonged to the Jumpers, a sect which sprang up in 1760; 
 but this is not true. 
 
 Wingeove (John) was born somewhere near Chichester, but for 
 many years resided at Steyning, in Sussex, and was governor of the 
 poor-house there. He used to preach generally in bis own house, and 
 occasionally in the villages around. He was connected with Lady 
 Huntingdon and the early Methodists. When I reflect upon the 
 amazing blessing that attended the labors of the early Methodists, I 
 am lost in amazement ; and so, I am sure, will my readers say, when 
 they have read the preceding pages. How many of our best hymns 
 were composed by those dear saints of the Most High ! Wingrove's 
 remains lie in Steyning churchyard, the spot being marked with a head 
 and a foot stone. The inscription is nearly obliterated ; but a friend 
 residing at Cowfield has had it deciphered for me, as far as possible. 
 From this it appears that Wingrove died in 1 793, aged 73. The fol- 
 lowing lines are on the stone. 
 
 *' The vile, the lost, he calls to him : Ye trembling sinners, hear ; 
 The righteous in their own esteem Have no acceptance here. 
 " If sin and guilt afford a plea, And may obtain a place ; 
 Then sure the Lord will welcome me, And I shall see his face." 
 
 I have had a copy of Wingrove's hymn book, but as it had no title, I 
 cannot give the date. I believe, however, the first edition was printed 
 at Bath, 1785. He wrote a tract called " Wingrove's Opinion, or a 
 Few Lines to a Brother Soldier." It is dated Steyning, Sussex, March 
 9, 1792. The " Opinion " appears to be of certain doctrines held by 
 some ministers. 
 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 153 
 
 ZinzendoPvF (Nicholas Louis) was born at Dresden, May 20, 1700. 
 He was Count and Lord of Zinzendorf and Pottcndorf. On the comple- 
 tion of bis minorit}', he entered en tbe work of the ministry. He was 
 the restorer of tbe Moravian Church, and travelled over many parts of 
 the globe as a missionary. His hymn, 
 
 " Jesus, thy blood and righteousness," 
 
 was translated by one of tbe Wesleys ; but the "Wesleyan biographers 
 cannot agree which. If John had any hand in it, he must have much 
 changed in after life. Zinzendorf died in 1 7G0. 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 The preceding work is intended more especially as a companion to 
 Gadsby's Selection of Hymns. I have not, therefore, attempted to give 
 the Lives of many authors whose names do not appear in that book. 
 There are still some hymns therein to which I have not been able to fix 
 the names of the authors; and I should be glad of the assistance of any 
 oue who can aid me in procuring thosenames. Thchvmns are G9, b6, 
 20G, 407, 4S2, 483, 937, 942, 9G3, 905, 970, 981, 969, 1008, 1118. 
 
 Of the following I have some doubt, though I believe the names at- 
 tached to them in the hvmn book are correct: 35,52,90,204,214,216, 
 224, 228, 239, 242, 243, 250, 294, 329, 348, 425, 426, 430, 401, 931, 938, 
 94s, 1009, 1058, 1129. 
 
 In ferreting out the author's names, and for other purposes connected 
 with this little work, I have had to carefully examine upwards of 2,00 f . » 
 volumes of books, of all sizes and. ages, and have ransacked nearly all 
 the public libraries in London, &c, besides spending days and weeks at 
 old bookstalls, booksellers' shops, and private houses. I have also to 
 acknowledge the kind assistance of many persons in various parts of 
 the kingdom, especially of Mr. D. Sedgwick, bookseller, 81, Sun Street, 
 Bishopsgate, London, who for many years has devoted his attention to 
 Hymnology. Mr. S. has recently published a catalogue of upwards of 
 1500 Psalm and Hymn Books, a copy of which he will forward to any 
 applicant, on receiving a penny postage stamp. 
 
 I now supply some omissions and make a few emendations. 
 
 Bereidge (John) first published a hymn book in 17G0, mostly a 
 collection from various authors ; but these he destroyed wherever he 
 could meet with them. His Zion's Soi?£S were published in 1785. 
 They were not all strictly original, as some were made up from Allen 
 and Batty, Cennick, Erskine, &c. 
 
 Bpadbepry (David.) — After psge 35 was printed off, I ascertained 
 that this minister was born at Reeth, in the North Riding of York- 
 shire, Nov. 12, 1735. He attributed his first serious impressions to 
 the Divine blessing under "Whitelield. lie commenced his ministerial 
 career at Alnwick, in Northumberland, in 17G2. In 17G7 he removed 
 to Ramsgate. After residing there about 3 8 years he removed to 
 Manchester, where he remained 10 years, and then went to Kenning- 
 ton. Here he took a lease of the Assembly Booms, and fitted them 
 up as a place of worship. His health, however, soon rapidly declined. 
 'When near his end, a friend asked him if he were comfortable; to 
 which he replied, "Yes; I am very near heaven. I am prepared to 
 meet my God, through Christ." He died Jan. 13, 1803, and was inter- 
 red in Bunhill Fields. He was author of some poems and a few hymns- 
 
Idi j. gadsby's memoirs of 
 
 Burgess (Daniel) was born at Staines, Middlesex, about 1645. He 
 was educated at Winchester School, and then removed to the Univer- 
 sity at Oxford. In 1667 he went to Ireland, but returned to England 
 in 1674, and settled at Marlborough, Wilts. Here he was committed 
 to prison for preaching as a Nonconformist, and had neither a bed 
 nor a stool in his cell, until his friends got a bed in at the window. 
 He was let out on bail, and then went to London, where he continued 
 to preach as a Dissenter, in a building in Brydges Street, Covent 
 Garden. He always aimed, he said, to be profitable rather than 
 fashionable ; for " that's the best key that fits the lock, though merely 
 an iron one." He suffered much from the unkindness of friends, but 
 never, he said, expressed his opinion of any but one, and that was 
 " Jesus Christ ; all to the praise and glory of new-covenant, never- 
 failing grace. All friends have not been found faithless, nor all ene- 
 mies useless. All my troubles have not been comfortless, nor all my 
 crooked sermons useless. Some grapes have been gathered from both 
 those sorts of thorns, and the compost wherewith the tree has been 
 so much soiled has only made it the more fruitful." Several bigotted 
 Church biographers have called him a buffoon and other hard names ; 
 but it is certain, though he may have been eccentric, he deserved no 
 such character. His end was peaceful, and he died " resting on new- 
 covenant grace." He was buried at St. Clement Danes, London, Jan. 
 31st, 1712-13. His hymns were not published in a volume until 1714, 
 though many of them were in use before. (See Burkitt.) He was 
 once preaching a "Funeral Sermon" for a lady, who, during much of 
 her life, had been greatly depressed with doubts and fears, when he 
 quoted the following lines from an ancient author: — 
 
 " I thirst for thirstiness, I weep for tears ; 
 Well pleased I am to be displeased thus. 
 The only thing I fear is want of fear ; 
 Suspecting I am not suspicious. 
 I cannot choose but live, because I die ; 
 And when I am not dead, how glad am I ! 
 Yet when I am thus glad, for sense of pain, 
 And careful lest that I should careless be, 
 Then do I grieve for being glad again, 
 And fear lest carefulness take care from me. 
 Amidst these restless thoughts, this rest I find, 
 For those who rest not here, there's rest behind !" 
 
 Elliott (B.) first published his hymns, 105 in number, in 1761. 
 From his second edition, 1776, he omitted some of them. 
 
 Erskine (Ealph.) — The poem on Smoking Tobacco, at the end 
 of Erskine's Gospel Sonnets, was composed by one Jeff Bartlett, in 
 1710. 
 
 Fkancts (Benjamin.) — On page 60, I refer to a Memoir of Mr. 
 Francis, by his son-in-law, Mr. Flint. Through the kindness of Mr. 
 Francis's son, Mr. S. E. Francis, now residing at Nailsworth, a copy 
 of that Memoir now lies before me. The little work is entitled, " The 
 Presence of Christ, the Source of Eternal Bliss. A Funeral Discourse 
 occasioned by the Death of Mr. Benjamin Francis. By John Byland, 
 D.D. To which is added, a Sketch of Mr. Francis's Life, & ., by his 
 Son [in-Law] Thomas Flint." It appears that when Mr. Francis 
 went to the academy at Bristol, he did not know sufficient of the 
 English language (Mr. F. being a Welshman) to be able even to ask 
 a blessing in it on his food; but as he applied himself diligently o his 
 studies, he soon became an English scholar. He repeatedly visitei his 
 native country, and preached, in Welsh, with great acceptance. On 
 
 
HYMN-WRITERS AND COMPILERS. 155 
 
 Sept. 22nd, 1799, after preaching twice at Shortwood and at the lecture 
 at Hampton, he began to complain of some alarming symptoms, which 
 induced him to call in medical aid. His illness, however, gradually 
 increased, until his spirit departed. Early in Nov., a friend asking 
 what were the feelings of his mind, he said, " It is not a season when 
 the copious showers of holy joy enrich my heart, but I assuredly feel 
 the gentle droppings of gracious consolation. O ! " he exclaimed, " I 
 am assured that I am Christ's." * * * " If I am not the Lord's, 
 I know not whose I am." u I have no fear of my Saviour, but the 
 greatest fear of myself. If I coultf. mention nothing of former expe- 
 riences, I can, I can, at this moment go to Jesus, as a poor sinner, 
 longing for salvation, in his own sovereign way." On Dec. 12th, he 
 appeared to be struck for death. " Come," he said to his family, 
 as we must part, we had better now take our mutual farewell, and then 
 you shall withdraw, that I may languish softly into life." On the 
 14th, he sank rapidly. A friend whispered to him, " Though I walk 
 through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil." " No, 
 no ! " said Mr. F. ; " for thy rod and thy staff they comfort me." After 
 this, he took but little notice of anything that was said. His dissolu- 
 tion was unusually lingering and painful, yet not a sigh heaved his 
 bosom, nor did one convulsion agitate his body. The same evening 
 he fell asleep in Jesus. On page CO, I stated that a new chapel was 
 built for him at Minch'in Hampton, where he remained until his 
 death. This is an error. Minchin Hampton is about three miles 
 from Shortwood, (formerly called Horsley.) and the chapel was 
 erected, in the first instance, for Lord's Day evening services. Mr. 
 F. continued to preach there on alternate Lord's Day evenings until 
 his last illness ; but Shortwood, alias Horsley, was his home. I have 
 endeavored to persuade Mr. F.'s son to deposit his copy of the 
 Memoir in the Library of the British Museum, and regret that I have 
 not succeeded. 
 
 Haweis (Thomas.) — The number of his hymns was 256. (See 
 last edition, 1808.) 
 
 Lyte (Henry Francis) was born at Kelso, June 1st, 1793. When 
 9 years of age, he was sent to a school at Protoro, in Ireland, and in 
 1812 entered Trinity College, Dublin. On leaving the college, he 
 thought of going into the medical profession, but was ordained in 
 1815, and had a curacy near Wexford. In 1817 he went to Marazion, 
 where he remained two years, removing, in 1819, to the neighborhood 
 of Lymington. In 1823 he took the perpetual curacy of Lower Brix- 
 ham, Devon, which he held until his death. It does not appear that 
 his health was ever very firm. In 1844 he went to Naples, but soon 
 removed to Rome, on account of the climate of Naples. In 1840 he 
 returned to England, but left again the following year for Italy. 1 1 
 was not able, however, to proceed farther south than Nice. Here he 
 died, Nov. 20th, 1847, and was buried in the English cemetery there. 
 He wrote a metrical version of the Psalms, in 1836. On page 98 I 
 refer to the hymn, 
 
 "Jesus, wc our cross have taken," 
 as being ascribed to Montgomery. Beyond doubt, however, it was 
 written by Lyte. The original is in the singular number, and appears 
 in a volume published by Lyte in 1833, entitled, " Poems, Chiefly 
 Religious." As given in some selections, however, it has been much 
 curtailed. A memoir was published of him in 1850. (Riving ton, 
 London.) Mr. L. had a high gift for poetry, and some of his com- 
 positions are truly beautiful. "What can surpass the following ? 
 
156 j. gadsby's memoirs of 
 
 " Abide with me ! Fast falls the eventide ; 
 The darkness deepens ; Lord, with me abide J 
 When other helpers fail, and comforts flee, 
 Help of the helpless, abide with me ! 
 
 " Not a brief glance I beg, a passing word; 
 
 But, as Thou dwell'st with Thy disciples, Lord, 
 
 Familiar, condescending, patient, free ; 
 
 Come — not to sojourn — but abide, with met 
 " Thou on my head in early youth didst smile, 
 
 And, though rebellious and perverse meanwhile, 
 
 Thou hast not left me, oft as I left Thee. 
 
 On to the close, Lord, abide with me ! 
 " I fear no foe with Thee at hand to bless ; 
 
 Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness. 
 
 Where is Death's sting? Where, Grave, thy victory? 
 
 I triumph still, if Thou abide with me. 
 
 Mason (John.) — On page 01, 1 state that the title of John Mason's 
 book is, " Songs of Praise." This is not quite correct. It is, " Spiritual 
 Songs; or Songs of Praise, with Penitential Cries, to Almighty God. 
 Together with the Song of Songs." I sent a copy of this book to the 
 Library of the British Museum. It will be found in the Catalogue 
 under " Songs," (3434 d.) Nothing, I think, can be more stupid than 
 the way many of the books are catalogued in that invaluable national 
 library. I have often had to look for hours before I could find books 
 which I had myself sent. Mason's name does not appear in the title- 
 page as the author. Mr. Sedgwick, whom I mentioned a page or two 
 back, says that the first part of the book, that is the Songs, is by 
 Mason, and most of the second part, the " Cries," by Shepherd." If 
 so, the verse, 
 
 " Mercy, good Lord, mercy I ask," 
 is not Mason's, but Shepherd's. In the same book occurs the follow- 
 ing verse: 
 
 " That miracles are ceased, Some confidently tell ; 
 
 But I do know it is not so, While I am out of hell." 
 
 The first edition of Mason's Songs was published in 1G83, and the 
 Penitential Cries in 1602. 
 
 Maxwell (James) was one of the early Methodist preachers. On 
 page 113, 1 have said that the hymn, 
 
 " Here, Lord, my soul convicted stands," 
 was, I thought, Bippon's ; but I find it is Maxwell's, being published 
 by him in 1759. Maxwell published several little books of hymns. 
 His brother Methodists called him the Scotch poet. 
 
 Newton (John.) — The hymn, 
 
 «' Frecious Bible !" What a treasure !" 
 as given in several selections, is greatly altered from the original, as, 
 indeed, are a large number of others, for every compiler seems to 
 have emended or mangled according to his own taste. I cannot say 
 who altered the above ; but it was certainly not my father, though he 
 has been charged therewith. 
 
 Bippon (John) printed a few hymns, "Divine Aspirations," which 
 were probably his own ; but I have not seen a copy. (See Maxwell.) 
 
 Seagrave (Bobeut) was one of the early Methodist preachers. He 
 published a Selection of hymns in 1741, and, two years afterwards, 
 a new edition, to which he prefixed 20 original hymns and seven years 
 

 HYMN-WRITERS AXD COMPILERS. 157 
 
 afterwards a fourth edition, with 20 additional originals. Besides his 
 hymns, he published several tracts in defence cf the doctrines and ar- 
 ticles of the Church of England. For many years he was the stated 
 preacher at Lorimer's Hall. He, however, forsook the Establishment, 
 and joined the early Methodists. He was born at Twyford, Leicester- 
 shire, Nov. 22nd, 1G93, entered Clare Hall when about 17, and took 
 the degree of M.A. 1718. 
 
 Turner (Samuel) was for many years minister of the Gospel at 
 Sunderland. He died May 10th, 1854, aged 70. After his death, a 
 little book of hymns was published, said to be his own. Amongst them 
 are, 1104 and 1131; but 1 believe the former to be by Bennett. 
 
 In pages 90, 91, 1 have expressed my belief that the hymn, 
 
 " Now begin the heavenly theme," 
 
 is by Madan, having been published in his Selection in 17G9. I learn, 
 however, that it appeared as early as 1756, in a Selection by J. 
 Edwards, of Leeds. 
 
 Mr. Sedgwick says he has no doubt that hymn 199 is the Countess 
 of Huntingdon's. 
 
 Mr. Sedgwick also says that hymn 938 is likewise Lady Hunting- 
 don's. 
 
 Hymn 321 has been ascertained by Mr. Sedgwick to be, beyond 
 doubt, by Mr. George Keith, Dr, Rippon's son-in-law, and publisher of 
 many of Dr. Gill's works. 
 
 Hymn 471, Mr. S. says, was written by the Hon. Walter Shirley. I 
 still believe it is Toplady's. 
 
 Hymn 348 is Toplady's, though marked (?). It appears, with other 
 verses, in the "Gospel Magazine" for 1798, signed "W. R. ;" i.e., 
 Walter Row. But in that periodical for 1796, 7, 8, there are other 
 hymns signed " W. R.," which were unquestionably by Toplady. Mr. 
 Row was a personal friend of Toplady's, and published his works after 
 T.'s death. He was entrusted by T.'s executors with a quantity of T.'s 
 MSs.; and it seems he took the liberty of pirating some of his hymns, 
 and omitting them from T.'s works. This was adding another sin to 
 that of ascribing to T. some of Charles Wesley's hymns, as mentioned 
 herein, page 120. 
 
 Note. — In the preceding work I have endeavoured to be impartial, 
 not sparing a Toplady any more than a Wesley, where I think they 
 erred. The work has now reached its 4th Edition. Had I written 
 only smooth things, it would probably ere this have reached its 10th. 
 
 Mr. Sedgwick has published a series of hymns, by the following 
 authors, with biographies: Luther (MartinJ, 1524; Crossman (Sml.), 
 1664; Mason (John), 1683; Shepherd (Thos.), 1G92; Ken (Thos.),1097; 
 Taylor (Clare), 1742; Seagrave (Robert), 1748; Grigg (Joseph), 1756; 
 Olivers (Thomas), 1757; Williams (William), 1759; Toplady (A. M.), 
 1759; Steele (Anne), 1700; Rvland (John), 1773; Stocker (John), 
 1776; Kempenfelt (Rich.), 1777; Grant (James), 1784; Swain 
 (Joseph), 1792; Hupton (Job), 1804. 
 
List of Works Published by J. Gadsby, George Yard, Beuverie Street, 
 Fleet Street, London. May be had by ordering of any Bookseller 
 xvho receives parcels from London. 
 
 Any number of Pamphlets or Books in the following List, of not less 
 than 4d. value, either all of one work or of various works, as wished, will 
 be forwarded by J. Gadsby, carriage paid, to any part of the Kingdom, 
 on receiving postage stamps or post-office orders to the amount, providing 
 all be ordered and sent at one time. 
 
 SEVENTEEN THOUSAND COPIES OF "MY WANDERINGS," 
 
 being Travels in the East in 1846-47, 1850-51, 1852-53, by John Gadsby, 
 have been disposed of. PRICE REDUCED from 5s. to 4s. cloth, and 
 from 6s. to 5s. half calf. 
 
 The work contains some account of Malta; Greece; Constantinople; 
 Smyrna; Ephesus; Egypt, and its great river, the Nile, (Sihor, Jer. ii. 18,) 
 its Temples, Monuments, Mummy Pits, and Cities; Ethiopia or Nubia; 
 the Red Sea; the Dead Sea; the Jordan; the Great Desert and its 
 Camels; Greeks, Turks, Jews, Saracens, and Ishmaelites ; Beersheba, 
 Hebron, Bethlehem, Jerusalem, Jericho, Joppa, Cesarea, Tyre, Sidon, 
 Beyrout, &c. &c. ; Sicily, Italy, Gibraltar, France, &c; Manners and 
 Customs of the Peoples; Religions, Superstitions, Ceremonies, &c; 
 Paganism, Greekism, Romanism, and Mahometanism; Ancient and 
 Modern Idolatry; Scripture Prophecies and their Fulfilment; Attacks of 
 the Arabs ; Storms at Sea; &c. &c. With upwards of 70 Engravings on 
 Wood, and Illustrations of about 2,000 Passages of Scripture. Together 
 with an Excellent Map, showing the Lands of the Bible and the Coun- 
 tries adjacent, and an extended Plan of the Holy Land, a complete Scrip- 
 ture Index both to passages quoted and the Parallel Passages, and 
 copious Index of Subjects, Places, Incidents, Anecdotes. 
 
 This volume is complete in itself, and contains a fund of interesting 
 matter, Biblical and Oriental, with Incidents of Travel, Anecdotes, Life 
 on the Nile, &c. 
 
 THE SECOND VOLUME OF "MY WANDERINGS' contains 
 an Account of the Author's Travels in the East in 1855-56, 1859-60, (in 
 the latter accompanied by Mrs. Gadsby,) with the usual Incidents of 
 Travel, Anecdotes, &c, Illustrations or Explanations of 2,000 Passages 
 of Scripture, in addition to the 2,000 referred to in the First Volume, and 
 many Engravings on Wood. Price 4s. cloth, lettered ; 5s. half calf. 
 The Volumes are quite distinct, and may be had separately. 
 
 " Windsor Castle, Nov. 17th, 1855. 
 " Sir, — I have had the honour to present to her Majesty, the Queen, the hook 
 
 which reached me yesterday, entitled, ' Wanderings in the East;' and I have 
 
 the pleasure to inform you that it was very graciously accepted by her 
 
 Majesty. 
 
 " I have the honour to be, Sir, your obedient, humble servant, 
 "Mr. J. Gadsby." " C. B PHIPPS." 
 
 " Windsor Castle, Jan. 16th, 1861. 
 " Dear Lord B, — , — I am happy to say her Majesty will accept of Mr. Gadsby's 
 
 second volume. " Sincerely yours, C. B. rHIPPS." 
 
 The Bishop of London (Blomfield) said, " A more interesting work on the East I 
 
 never read. I felt bound and chained to it until I had read and re-read it." 
 11 A valuable present." — Lord Chancellor Campbell. 
 '' Mr. Gadsby's ' Wanderings in the East' will be read with the greatest interest 
 
 by all." — Britannia. 
 " I have read your exeellent description of the different scenes referred to in 
 
 your ' Wanderings ' with much pleasure."— J. P. Bell, Esq., M.D., Hull. 
 " We have read these ' Wanderings ' with great delight." — City Press. 
 " Mr. Gadsby's character as a traveller is settled. He has taken his place, from 
 
 which no circumstances can remove him. For quickness, penetration, 
 
 humour, and sagacity, he has few equals, and no superior. Almost every 
 
 page is a panorama. The work is a perpetual feast." — British Standard. 
 ( With scores of others. ) 
 
MY VISIT TO MOUNT SINAI AND THE HOLY LAND IN 1864. 
 By John Gadsby. This work, in addition to many interesting Details 
 and Descriptions of Mount Sinai, Jerusalem, &c. &c, contains numerous 
 Anecdotes, Descriptions, Incidents of Travel, and Illustrations of Scrip- 
 ture, none of which appear in " My Wanderings." Also an Account of 
 the Author's Visit to the great Suez Canal, together with several Engrav- 
 ings on Wood, — viz., Mount Sinai, with Waay Rahah, the Calf Valley ; 
 Sinaitic Inscriptions in "VVady Mokattcb ; the Isthmus of Suez, with the 
 great Canal, the Fresh Water Canal, the Railways, the River Nile, &c; 
 the Garden of Gethscmane, &c. 
 
 Price 8d. sewed; Is. cloth flush, gold lettered; 3s. full calf, suitable for 
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 ".Mr. Gadsby is one of those writers of whom the reader never tires, and he is 
 one of those men, did health and circumstances permit, we should like to 
 travel with without, cessation till he had swept every locality in both hemi- 
 spheres, traversed our great continents and the isles of the sea. lie is all 
 eye, all ear, and greatly given to wise rumination. Barren indeed will be the 
 theme which he shall fail to clothe with a verdure of sentiment. The present 
 volume, although one of the most limited things he has ever issued, is yet 
 rich in the extreme in its fact and observation. Mount Sinai in 1864 is here, 
 we might say, photographed. The volume is one of the deepest interest, and 
 and it is issued at once in large and excellent type, and yet sold for a thing 
 of nought." — British Standard. 
 
 SLAVERY, CAPTIVITY, ADOPTION, REDEMPTION, Biblically, 
 Orientally, and Personally Considered. Including an Epitome of my 
 Autobiography, with Biblical and Oriental Illustrations. By John 
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 and the book is very readable." — Christian World. 
 
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 The Advance of Popery in this Country, viewed under both its Reli" 
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 "Whitefielcl at Lisbon; being a detailed Account of the Blasphemy and 
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