■^^m:r ( P'R'NCETON N J " ^ : — 'I i ''art of the Jf ^ Ar»r>rs(,N alkxaxdkk uhhauy, -> r ^huh was prePf ntfd bj t i £n^^tjCr3.£^'^ J/r^WKhjUc**'-- c^cruyi^ ^,0~eA^ 0-77 a^/^yz<^e>n^ cn^ndj^ c^c^^ THE LIFE OF THE REV. THOMAS ^COTT, D. D RECTOR OF ASTON SANDFORD, BUCKS ; INCLUDING A NARRATIVE DRAWN UP BY HIMSELF, AND COPIOUS EXTRACTS OF HIS LETTERS : BY JOHN SCOTT, A. M. VICAK OF NORTH FERRIBT, AND MINISTER OP ST. MARt's, HTTLE. ** They glorified God in me." Gal. i. 24. *< I laboured more abundantly — yet not I, but the g^race of God which was with me." 1 Coa. xv. 10. PHILADELPHIA : PUBLISHED BY W. W. WOODWARD, AT THE S. W. CORNER OF CHESNUT AND SECOND STREETS. JH' Carty & Davis, printers. 1823. PREFACE. It is not my intention to add to a volume, already pei*° haps too bulkly, by here enlarging on any of those topics which the subject of biography in general, or the con^ tents of the present work in particular, might suggest. All that I propose is, briefly to advert to a few points which may seem to require notice. The narrative, which I now present to the world, will no doubt produce upon different classes of readers very different impressions. Possibly it may carry a degree of offence to the feelings of some, to contemplate the very humble scenes in which one, who has since been regarded with much veneration, was conversant throughout the former years of his life. This however is a case in which^ could the sentence be divested of the pride, i fear, inhe- rent in it, we might be tempted to apply the words — Quantum generi demas, virtutibus addis.* But it is more becoming to say, as my father was accus- tomed to do — without at all wishing to disparage external distinctions where they existed — that in all these respects he was a man of no pretensions. Nor can any Christian, * To depress my rank is to exalt my character. IV PREFACE. apprrriating his other (nialifications, consistently regard him the less Ofi tliat aecount. Others may view, not without jealously, a person who, bv his own shewincr. was once " far off" from God and from goodness, represented as eminently ^M)roughtnigh ;'* distinguished l)y the divine blessing, and by great useful- ness in the church of Christ. The real and well informed Christian, however, will regard the mighty change with far other feelings : and to all descriptions of persons his family and friends would say, If we " glory'^ in our re- vered relative, it is not in what he was by nature, but in what he became by divine grace : or, to express the sen- timent in terms which would have been still more agreea- ble to his own principles and feelings^ We " glorify God in him."- Some may perhaps object to the ftdl disclosio'e that is made of those circumstances of his history and character, which always humbled him in his own sight, and which may tend to abase him in the view of worldly or phari- saical persons. There remained however not much of this nature to be added to the confessions of " The Force of Truth :'" his sup])limental narrative, included in this volume, was all written in the same unreserved style : and it appeared to me that it would be unworthy of his biographer, as it would certainly have been contrary to his own wishes, to attempt any suppression of what nei- ther could nor needed to be concealed. It is more than possible that the publication of so de- tailed a story, conceining a clergyman of humble station, may appear to many a proceeding altogether calling for — perhaps scarcely admitting of — apology. Some notice of this ol)icTti()n will be found in an early part of the work itself. I shall only here add, that I could not but remem- ber that I was called to give to the public an account of PREFACE, V a person, on whose works — of plain didactic theology — and those charged at the lowest price at which they could be afforded — that public had not thought it too much to expend more than Two Hundred Thousand Pounds, during the author's own life- time.* On the part of many who bore a high regard for my father's character, some impatience has been expressed for the appearance of the present work. I trust however it will now be seen that time has not been lost in bring- ing it forward. Indeed I cannot but fear that I may in- cur the charge, rather of premature publication than of unnecessary delay. The work itself will sufficiently explain the nature of the materials from which it has been composed. I would only therefore observe, that, of all the letters which are introduced into it, there is not one of which any copy had been preserved by the writer. Their preservation has depended on the persons to whom they were addressed, and it appears to have been in great part accidental. The letters will, I trust, be judged a highly valuable part of the volume : and, as will appear to the reader, there arc many more in reserve, from which a further selection may be given to the public, if it should be de- sired. With this view I would still earnestly invite those friends who possess letters of my father's to communicate to me, through the medium of my bookseller,! either the originals, or authenticated copies of such parts as may not be mixed up with private affairs. To those who have already complied with this request, I beg leave here to return my sincere acknowledgments. I find that it may not be superfluous to insert a caution * See the calculation concerning his Commentary alone, below, ]?. 278. t Mr. Seely, 169, Fleet Street, London. VI PREFACE. witli respect to any new publication bearing my fathers name. Whatever is not expressly sanctioned by his fam- ily, must be considered as appearing contrary to their wishes. 1% 6//i, 1822. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. Including the first sixteen years of his LIFE. A. D. PAGE Mr. Scott's own memoir of his life - - - 17 Plan of the present work - - - - - 1 8 1747. His birth and early education - - . - 19 His eldest brother ------ 20 1757 ^ to J. At school, at Scorton, in Yorkshire - - - 21 1762. J A peculiarity in his early turn of mind - - - 23 Remarks on schools - - , - - - 25 1762. Short apprenticeship to a surgeon, at Alford - - 26 Remarkable incident during his apprenticeship - 27 Reflections 28 Extracts from the < Force of Truth,' relative to this period 29 Employment in the grazing business, with his father 33 CHAPTER II. From his apprenticeship to his ordination. 1763 "I to I Hardships from his sixteenth to his twenty-sixth year 35 Some account of other members of his family - 35 His attempts to obtain orders - - - - 40 1772. His ordination by the Bishop of Lincoln, (Sept. 20th) 46 He accepts the curacies of Stoke Goldington, and Weston Underwood, Bucks - - - - 48 Reflections on his ordination - - - - . 49 Extracts from the ' Force of Truth' - - - 50 Apology for the preceding narrative - - - 54 for Mr. S's. censures of himself - - 54 An incident 57 His character as displayed in letters of this period 5g Mil CONTENTS. CHAPTKR III. From his ordination to his marriage. A. D. PAGE 1772. Settlement at Stoke 60 Family of George Wrighte, Esq. of Gayhurt - 60 1773. Entrance at Clare Hall, Cambridge - •- - 61 His studies 62 His paiishes --------66 Attention to clerical duties - - , - 67 Death of his sister, Mrs. Caborn - - - 70 Rev. John Newton, curate of Olney - - - 71 Extracts from the ' Force of Truth* - - 72-75 1774. His marriage, (Dec. 5th) 76 His finances _ _ • - - 78 His family worship, then and in later life - 79 CHAPTER IV. The great change in his religious views. 1775. Removal to the curacy of Ravenstone - - 85 1^3' ? Birth of his two eldest children - - - - 87 1777. \ 1775. Death of his sister, Mrs. Gibbons - - - 87 Great change in his religious views - - - 88 Important letters relative to this subject - - 91 1776. He devotes himself entirely to the work of the minis- try 106 His sentiments on study and learning - - - 107 Doctrinal views at the close of 1776 - - - 109 Extemporary preaching - - - - - 114 CHAPTER V. Period at Weston Underw cod, till the pub- lication OF the ' Force of Truth.' 1777. Removal to Weston Underwood - - - 115 Death of his father and mother - - - 115-117 Renewal of intercourse with Mr. Newton - - 117 Practice of medicine among the poor - - - 119 Progress of his religious inquiries - - - 120 Ministerial faithfulness — Bart. Higgins, Esq. - 122 1778. Playing at cards 123 1773. The theatre - - 126 1778. Interview with a clergyman . _ - - 126 The vicar of Ravenstone - - - - - 127 CONTENTS, iX ^' ^' PAGE 1779 y 1780.'s ^i*'th of two sons — Death of a son and daughter 129 1779. VuhlicdLtion of ^ T/ie Force of Truth y* -. - - 130 CHAPTER VI. Letters belonging to the period of the PRECEDING CHAPTER. 1779. Letters on numerous deaths in his family, particularly his infant son 131 1780. On the death of his daughter - - . - 135 1778,) On the impression produced on his relations by his 1779.5 change of views 137 Tenderness of his affections 141 1778 "^ to > Letters to a relation by marriage, pressing the great 1781. J duties of religion I45 CHAPTER Vn. From the first proposal of the curacy of Olney, to the close of his ministry there. 1780. Proposal of the curacy of Olney - - - 151 Changes there on Mr. Newton's removal 152-158 Small-pox at Olney and Ravenstone - - - 152 Gaol fever at Stoke 157 Remarkable case - - - - - - 157 1781. Removal to Olney - I59 Week-day lectures - - - - - - leo Lady Austen — Cowper, the poet - . _ 162-163 Question of infant baptism - - - - 166 Irregular ministrations - - - - - - 166 Extract on itinerant preaching - - - - 170 Rev. Dr. Carey, of Serampore - - - - 172 1776. Dissenters at Northampton - - - - 173 1783. Severe illness in Shropshire — Letter from Rev. J, Mayor - - - -^- - - - 1 74 1784 > 1785 \ '^^^'^^^S^^^^S ^^^on — Discourse on Refientance 176 CHAPTER VIII. Correspondence during the period of the PRECEDING chapter. Parish of Olney - - - - - _ - 178 1779"] to > Letters of Rev. J. Newton - - - .179 I782.J B X OOXTKKTS. A. 1,. »*^^* LficH-slcr 181—186 I7H1. Situation at OIncy 1^^ 1782. Happy slate of his mind ----- 191 1783. Trcatmeni (tf nlalioiis not religious - - - 194 1783^ to ^Letters to the Rev. J. Mayor - - - 196-207 1785J Anlinomianism ..-.--- 199 Letters to the Rev. G. More — His religious views - 201-204 CHAPTER IX. From the close of his ministry at Olney, to THE COMMENCEMENT OF HIS COMMENTARY. Situation at Olney 210 Charge of scolding in the pulpit - - 211-229 Ministerial discouragement - - - - - 212 1785. Situation at the Lock proposed - - - - 213 On giving and receiving advice - - - - 214 Removal to London 217 The Lock 218 1790. Lectureships in Bread Street and Lothbury - 220 His Sunday labours 222 Finances 219-225 Charge of Arminianism 226 1786. Sermo7i on Election and Final Perseverance - 227 Society in London 227-235 Trials at the Lock - - - - - - 229 Usefulness in the Hospital _ . _ _ - 230 17K7. Pavi/ihlrt an the fatal co}hst'(/iie?iC('s of Pent ale Prosti- tufion - - 232 Institution of the Lock Asylum _ _ . 032 1786,) \'isits to Buckinghamshire, and Scrmoji on Growth 1787. 5 i" ('fact- ----__. 234 1786. Correspondence during this period _ _ _ 236 With liis sisters — Funeral Sermon for Dr. Conyers 237 With the Rev. Dr. Ryland 239 ^^'ilh a late parishionei* in Buckinghamshire - 243 J787. With a friend in Wales, on Welch Bibles - - 248 CHAPILR X. His COMMENTARY ON THE SCRIPTURES DEATH OF MRS. SCOTT. 1787. The work proposed and undertaken - - - 255 CONTENTS. XI A. n. • PAGE 1788. Embarrassment and failure of the proprietor - 256 1792. Losses of the author 259-267 1800 "J to [.Improvements of the work in two new editions - 261 1811. J Copy-right disposed of to the present proprietors 263 llll'l Suit in Chancery 263-275 1 o 1 o. \ 1788 ^ to V First publication of the work _ _ - - 264 1792. J Letters relative to it 256 1791. Discourse on the death of John Thornton, Esq. - 266 Subsequent editions of the Commentary - - 269-273 Its progress in America - ~ - - 273-278 1790. Death of Mrs. Scott ---..- 280 Mr. Scott's second marriage - - - - 280 Letters 281 CHAPTER XL — Additional particulars from the time of FINISHING HIS COMMENTARY TO THE EVE OF HIS REMOVAL FROM LONDON. Publications— 1792. On Civil Government and the Duties of Subjects 287 1793. The Rights of God 287 1796. Answer to Paine* s Age of Reason - - - 287-293 ^''^^'? Letters to Dr. Ryland— Political Sentiments - 288 1793.3 1793. Dr. Carey, the Baptist Missionary - - - 293 Further Publications— 1793, } Essays on the most important Subjects in Religion 294 I ' ^ JVotes on Bunyan's Pilgrim - - - - 295 1795.5 1796. Volume of Sermons ------ 295 1797. Warrant and J^ature of Faith . - - - 296 1802. Four Sermons _------ 295 1798 'j to I Lectures connected with the state of the times 296 1802. J 1798. Observations on the signs and duties of the times 296 1802. Sermon at the close of the Lectures - - - 296 Xii CONTENTS. A. D. • PAGE 179 > 1 tu y J'uat Sermons ------- 296 1795. J I79H. Thaukairiving Sermoii ----- 296 1801. St rmon bcfoi-e the Church Missionary Society 297 1800. Origin of that Society 297 Commemoration of Mr. Scott, at the anniversary in 1821 298 Works projected, but never executed - - 300 1796. Voyages between London and Margate - - 300 CHAPTER XII. — Lktters belonging to the period of the TREGEDING CHAPTER. Letters to his friend in Northumberland - - 30: o 07 1794,> 1795.3 ' V to his son at college on companies and studies - - - 307 on joining religious societies in college 309 on the study of divine truth - - 312 on the love of God - - - - 315 to a lady on ' Hart's Hymns* - - 317 on habits and the employment of time - 320 1797. on the Rev. Henry Venn - - _ 322 to Mrs. Webster on the death of her daugh- ters 322 on Mr. Wilberforce's * Practical View* - 324 on the ministry, and qualifications for it 324 1798. on academical distinctions - - . 327 on education 329 on his own religious sentiments - - 330 1 80 1 . on his views during a very dangerous illness 33 1 Observations on the last letter - - - 334 CHAP PER XIII.— From his accepting the living of aston TO THE FINAL DISPOSAL OF HIS COMMENTARY. Concluding transactions at the Lock - - 339 1801. The Living of Aston Sdnford . . - 340 Determination to cjuit the Lock . - - 342 Erection of a parsonage-house at Aston - - 343 Elizabeth Moulder— filial duty and charity to the poor remunerated - . - - . 334, GONTENTS. xiii ^•^* PAGE Review of his own conduct at the Lock - - 354 1803. Removal to Aston 374 Conclusion of his own Narrative - . , 334 1806 "J to t Visits to Hull, York, Leeds - - - - 394 1811. J 1309 "j to y to Bristol, and to Portsmouth . - - 305 1313.J 1813. to Cambridge - - - - - 315 Publications — 1803. Funeral Sermon for the Rev. J. JVeivell - - 351 1804. Sermon before the London Missionary Society 325 1808. Funeral Sermon for the Re-v. T. Penty cross - 325 IftlO. Sermon on the Death of the Missionary^ Barneth 325 1810. Sermon for the Jenus* Society - - . - 353 1811. Address to Missionaries proceeding to Africa - 352 1812. Sermon for the London Female Penitentiary 352 1811. Remarks on the Refutation of Calvinism - 335 1805 1 to >His collected works 335 1808.J 1807"! to J>Tuition of Misssionaries 335 1814.J Study of Arabic - 354 1813. His views with respect to the instruction of Missiona- ries 355 His zeal for religious and benevolent Institutions - 358 Effects of his ministry at Aston - _ . 36q Chapelry of Gawcott - - - . 351 CHAPTER XIV, — Letters belonging to the period of the PRECEDING CHAPTER. ' I. On the work of the Ministry - - - 353 II. On provision for families, and education of child- ren, particularly those of Ministers - - 371 III. On the death of children and near friends 375 IV. Miscellaneous 335 CHAPTER XV. — From the final disposal of his commentary TILL his last illness. 1813. Unexpected difficulty in his finances - - 388 Extraordinary relief - - - • - 391 xiv UOiNTENTS. A. D. ?AGE 18 11. Work on the question betioeen Jeiva and Christians 396 St-rtnona on the Peace — The Slave 'Pvade - - 399 Death of his sister, Mrs. Burgess - - - 40 1 of Henry Thornton, Esq. _ . - 403 1815. Sermon on the death of Lady Alary Fitzgerald - 405 Index and Concordance to his Bible - - 407 1815"^ to ^Letters on Ecclesiastical Establishments - 408 l«17j 1815. On fluctuations in a congre.^ation - - - 409 Second edition of his ^ Remarks^* . _ - 412 1816. Trials. — On temptation . _ . - 412 On concern for spiritual welfare of children - 413 On the death of an infant grandchild - - 417 On cultivating cheerfulness . - . - 420 Letter to his sister Mrs. Webster - - - 4:^2 1817. History of the Synod of Dort _ . _ . 425 Sermon on the death of the Princess Charlotte - 425 1818. Preparation of a stereotype edition of his Bible 426 Letters on submission to God . _ - - 428 His state at that period _ - - - 431 On Dr. Chalmer's farewell Address . _ - 423 Occurrences in a visit to Aston _ - - 433 Last letter to Mrs. Webster - _ . - 463 1819. Letter to his youngest son ----- 437 On the recent ecclesiastical acts and proceedings 404 Death of his late wife's sister - - - - 442 1820. of King George HL - _ _ _ 443 of Mr. Scott*s brother - - . 443 of his sister, Mrs. Webster - . - 444 His state in the summer and autumn of 1820 - 446 Last letter to the Rev. T. Webster - - 448 On the exertions for the spiritual improvement of sea- men -----_-- 449 On Cruden's Concordance - - - - 451 On his own Index and Concordance - - - 451 1H*21. Last letter to Rev. Dr. Ryland - - - 452 to his eldest son . _ - - 454 to Mr. Burgess on the death of a daughter 455 to his friend in Northumberland - 456 1818. Letters to a niece after the death of her mother 458 CONTENTS. XV A. D. PAGE 1819. Letter to a Clergyman on private religious meetings 461 — ■ on prayer to the holy Spirit 465 1821. Last Letter to Rev. J. Mayor - - - - 468 CHAPTER XVI. — His last illness and deAth. Introductory observations from the Rev. D. Wilson's Funeral Sermons 471 Mar. 1 ■ ( Extracts of letters written from Aston during his April. J ^"^^^^ - 474 His death ----_._ 488 His funeral 494 Impressions left on the minds of the family - 496 On the occasional depression and gloom experienced by Mr. Scott - - - . - - . _ 493 Memorandums made during his illness - 503 His fears which were never realized - ^ 582 CHAPTER XVII. — His character — habits — sentiments on education. His character as delineated by Mr. Wilson - 531 Additional observations . - . _ 545 On his intellectual endowments - _ _ 545 On his spirit and tempei-^ — particular deadness to the world _ 549 On his habits _ _ _ _ _ _ ^^^ Letters from John Pearson, Esq. - - - 561 Letter from William Wilberforce, Esq. - - 553 Mr. Scott's Sentiments ou Education - - 55.7 CHAPTER XVIII. — His works. — his theology. — conclu- sion. I. The Force of Truth, and the Commentary - 530 Principles of interpretation adopted in the latter work 582 II Theological Treatises - _ - _ 53^ III. Occasional Sermons - - _ _ 595 IV. Works against infidelity and disaffection 599 V. Other controversial works - - - goo His Theology - . , . gOg Conclusion - - - _ - 613 Memoir of his eldest daughter - - - 621 THE LIFE OF THE REV. THOMAS SCOTT, D. D. CHAPTER L INCLUDING THE FIRST SIXTEEN YEARS OF HIS LIFE, A HE public are already apprized, that my honoured fa- ther left behind him a written memoir of his own life^ brought down to the year 1812. The first sentence of this manuscript will explain, at once, his reason for so doing, and the nature of the composition. " As there can be little doubt,'' he says, " that, after my decease, something in the way of memoir, or narrative, will be published concerning me, to prevent misinformation, and to supply a few authentic materials, I purpose, in the fol- lowing sheets, to state such facts as seem of sufficient im- portance, leaving it, in general, to others to make their observations upon them.'' Hence it would seem, that not so much to write for the public eye, as to furnish " authentic materials" to those who might be induced to do so, was the object which he C 18 EARLY LIFE. [ChAP. 1. proposed to himself'. Accordingly 1 confess, that, on my iirst inspection of the narrative, it appeared to me, tliough in all parts gratifying to the writer's imniediate friends, yet in many instances more minute and familiar than might he suitable for a vvork^ to be submitted to the world at large. But, on more deliberately considering the subject, and reflecting on what the public have, in other instances, not only tolerated, but approved, I have so far altered my judgment, as to determine to keep back very little indeed of what my father has written ; and, in committing it to the press, to subject it only to that verbal, or otherwise slight correction, which an unre vised com- position naturally requires. It further appears, from the sentence which has been recited, that, contenting himself with recording leading fads, the writer left it to others to make the proper re- flections upon them. On the whole, therefore, in compliance with what would. I hope, have obtained his own sanction, and what, I feel some confidence, will meet the wishes of the reli- gious public, I shall give the bulk of my fathers manu- script in his own words ; interweave with it pretty co- pious selections from his correspondence, illustrative of its contents ; ofl'er such reflections as the several occasions may seem to demand ; and, after we shall have lost the help of tliat original document, detail the history of the remain- ing pei-iod of his life, as much upon the same plan as the means in my power shall enable me to do. I would en- deavour every where to keep in view the great object for which he lived, and to which, on his dying bed, more entirely, if possible, than before, he approved of having devoted his life ; and would humbly desire, that the present work may still conduce to the same design: — that here, as well as in the writings more exclusively his 1747 1763.] EARLY LIFE. 19 ©wn, he may " yet speak'' to the glory of God^ and to the highest good of mankind. My father thus records the time and place of his birth. '' I was born on the fourth of February, 1746-7, an- swering, since the change of the style, and the beginning of another century, to February 16, 1747. A small farm-house at Braytoft, in Lincolnshire, was the place of my birth. Braytoft is five miles from Spilsby, and about six from Skegness, — ^where a well-known bathing place has since been built ; but where, in my remem- brance, only one solitary public house existed, on the sea- shore. " My father, John Scott, was a grazier, a man of a small and feeble body, but of uncommon energy of mind, and vigour of intellect ; by which he surmounted, in no common degree, the almost total want of education. His circumstances were very narrow, and for many years he struggled with urgent difficulties. But he rose above them ; and, though never affluent, his credit was sup- ported, and he lived in more comfortable circumstances to the age of seventy-six years. He had thirteen child- ren, ten of whom lived to maturity : and my eldest bro- ther was twenty-three years older than my youngest sister. " Concerning my father's family and ancestors, I know scarcely any thing. My mother's maiden name was Wayet, and she was descended of a family well known and respected, for a long time back, at Boston. From her method of ruling and teaching her large family, when very young, I derived many of my best maxims concern- ing the education of my own children. " Having, principally by her, been taught to read fluently, and to spell accurately, I learned the first ele- 20 EARLY LIFE. [ChAP. L meiits of Latin at Bur^h. two miles off, at a school to which, for a while, I went as a day-scholar. But at eight years of age I was sent to Bennington, a village about four miles iioilh of Boston, where my father had a graz- ing farm, (on which my elder brother and sister resided, with my father's sister,) that I might attend a school in the parish kept by a clergymair. Here I continued about two years; and, in addition to writing, and the first ru- diments of arithmetic, I learned a little Latin at my mas- ter's desire, who thought he saw in me a turn for that kind of learning. He had, as I recollect, no other Latin scholar. — Exclusive of some instances of my early profi- ciency in several kinds of vice, and the severe correc- tions to which this exposed me, I remember little of these two years, except a ])reservation from drowning, in a si- tuation into which I had rushed in defiance of warning. My escape was considered as wonderful, for none of the spectators was al)le to give me any aid. '* Towards the close of these years mv eldest brother died on board a man of war, I think at Portsmouth. My fiither, amidst his difficulties, greatly desired to have a son educated for one of the learned professions ; and his eldest son, shewing a talent for learning, was sent to school, at Scorton, in Yorkshire, (of which place more will be spoken hereafter,) and, when he had acquired a compe- tent stock of Latin and Greek, was bound apprentice to a surgeon and apothecary at Burgh. His master dying dur- ingthe term of his apprenticeship, left him his indentures, and, I believe, a small legacy. He then went to Lynn, in Norfolk, where he enjoyed far greater advantages for acquiring professional knowledge ; and, having attended the hospitals in London for some time, he was induced, on the breaking out of war with France, to enter the navy as surgeon's mate, determined to push his fortune in that 1747—1763.] EARLY LIFE. Zl line. His advance from the lowest rank to that next to a surgeon, to which, if he had lived, he would certainly have been very soon promoted, was rapid ; and the most sanguine expectations were formed. But a vessel of war arriving from abroad, with a malignant disease among the crew, he, being, as it always appeared, a stranger to fear, and enthusiastically eager in the pursuit of professional knowledge, requested to be one of those who were sent on board of her. There he soon caught the disease, which terminated at once his prospects and his life, when he was about twenty-four years of age. ^^ My father felt this event as, in every way, a most heavy affliction. He determined, however, if possible, to have a son in the medical profession ; and, as I was thought of the proper age, and seemed capable of readi- ly learning Latin, I was selected. From this time my attention was almost entirely directed to that language; and, at different places, I gat a superficial knowledge of several books generally read at schools : which gave the appearance of far greater proficiency than I had actually made. ^^ At ten years of age I was sent to Scorton, where my brother had been before me ; and there I remained five years, without returning home, or seeing any relation or acquaintance. — Scorton is a hamlet of the parish of Bol- ton, where the celebrated Henry Jenkins, who lived one hundred and sixty-nine years, lies buried ; and there is a monumental inscription for him in the parish church. This was one hundred and forty miles from Braytoft ; five miles from Richmond, and two from Catterick, in Yorkshire ; the river Swale running between. There were several turnpike roads in the neighbourhood, and one through the village, but I do not remember that I ever saw or heard a stage coach !— The whole expence of 2)i KARLY LIFK. [ChaP. I. bonrdiiig and dothing aiuoiniied to 14/. a year ; two guineas were paid for toachiug, books being found ; there were some extra-eharges for wiiting, aritbnieti(', and French ; and some expcnces for medical assistance : but I have often heard my father mention, that I cost him 17/. a year, for five years. I think he must have underrated the sum, but I am fully satisfied that 100/. more than covered all the charges of the five yeai*s ; and this was all the cost of my education. Yet I wanted for nothing. 1 had plenty of wholesome food, and, though my clothing was rather coarse, I was as tenderly taken care of when sick, (which was frequently the case,) by the widow, who kept the boarding-house, and her daughter, as I could have been at home. — The effect, however, of such long separations from parents, brothers, and sisters, and other near relations, is far from favourable to the forming of the moral and social character, in future life. ••The school at Scorton is, I believe, well endowed : and it was at that time of considerable note. During the the whole of my continuance there, there were above eighty scholars ; several from remote places : and a few of superior station in society, whose names I have since met with as occupying rather conspicuous situations. The Rev. John Noble was head-master. He had been, in his day, indisputably an able teacher of the learned lan- guages : but at this time he was old and lethargic ; and, though still assiduous, was most grossly imposed upon by the boys, and by no one more than myself. " When I arrived at Scorton, 1 was asked what Latin hooks I had read ; and my answer induced the usher to overrate my proficiency, and to place me in a class much beyond my s\iperficial attainments. This, however, stim- ulated me to close application : and it was not very long before I overtook my class-mates, and with ease accompa- 1747-— 1763.] EARLY LIFE. 23 nied them. Had I then been again pushed forward, I might have been excited to persevering diligence : but, as I could appear with tolerable credit without much application ; partly actual proficiency, and partly by imposing on Mr. Noble, under whose care I now^ came ; my love of play, and my scarcity of money for self-indulgent expences, induced me to divide a great proportion of my time between diver- sion and helping other boys in their exercises, for a very scanty remuneration, which I lost in gaming, or squan- dered in gratifying my appetite. — Still, however, I made considerable progress, and should have been at the head of the school^ had I continued in it another year. But one thing is remarkable, considering what has since taken place, that, while I could translate Latin into English, or English into Latin, perhaps more readily and correctly than any other boy in the school^ I never could compose themes. I absolutely seemed to have no ideas^ when set to work of this kind, either then or for some years after wards ; and was even greatly at a loss to write a common letter. — As for verses, I never wrote any except nonsense- verses, of one kind or other ; which has perhaps been the case also of many more prolific versifiers. God had not made me a poet, and I am very thankful that I never at tempted to make myself one." In addition to what my father has here stated, I think it sufliciently curious to be inserted in the history of one who lived to compose so many large volumes, that I have often heard him remark, that, in his early days, he look- ed upon few things with so much surprise, as upon great books : he felt utterly at a loss to conceive, how they had ever been produced. For the encouragement, also, of industry and perseverance, I would venture to express an opinion, which facts, I think, have suggested to me, — that to find composition a difficult task is rather a prom- 24 EARLY LIFE. [CnAP. I. jsing svmpLoni m )oung prisons, than the contrary. Pre- cocity in writing is very often no other than the art of writing ^* without ideas :" while they, who cannot write till they have thought, are more likely, in the event, to store their coinj)Ositions with valuable matter. '' During these five years," my father proceeds, ^' I experienced, as I suppose most young persons do, several remark.al)le preservations in perilous circumstances, gen- erally such as my violent and eager spirit pushed me into ; and I also recovered from some very dangerous fevers. These things ought to be remembered by me with lively gratitude, (especially as I then scarcely ever thought of God;) but they are not so peculiar as to deserve pub- lic notice. Perhaps one exception may be admitted. Sitting by the fire-side reading, I affronted, by no great offence, a school-fellow of as violent passions as myself : when, without my being at all aware of his design, he seized a large poker, and aimed a blow' at my head, w hich must have proved fatal, had not its force been broken by an intervening object. As it was, it inflicted a severe wound, which left a bald place on the top of my head ever after. "My own conduct, at this period, was as immoral as want of money, pride, and fear of temporal consequences and a natural bash fulness, would admit it to be ; except that in one thing I retained a sort of habit of my family, and never learned to swear, or to take the name of God in vain, unless sometimes when provoked to violent passion. There was no fear of God hffore my eyes ; no restraint from the thought of any relations watching over and re- proving my conduct ; no want of most vile examples and prompters ; and little fear of detection by the master. In one instance, however, this latter confidence ftiiled me, and I was put to shame in the face of the whole school for 1747 1763.] EARLY LIFE. 25 robbing an orchard ; and my disgrace was proclaimed in the neighbourhood : which I mention^ to shew that the master^ though liable to gross imposition^ decidedly oppo- sed immorality whenever it was detected. '' I cannot quit the present subject, without observing the dire evils attending large public schools, where the boys are, for a very great part of their time, from under the eye of the master, however vigilant ; and at a distance from parents and relations, and all whose presence would impose restraint upon them. Thus they are, in great measure, left to devise and practice wicked- edness together : they embolden one another to break through the defence of natural modesty : they teach their juniors the vicious practices which they have learned from their seniors : they bestow pains to corrupt each other's principles : they often procure the vilest publi- cations : and, by the help of indexes, and other means, they sometimes become better acquainted with the most indecent passages of the classic authors, than with their daily lessons. The most clever, daring, and wicked of the elder boys is the hero for the time being, whom all, that are near enough to him, envy, imitate, and emulate. When he leaves the school, his most successful copyist takes his place ; and the same scene is re-acted again and again. Those who have money purchase the company of such as are witty and entertaining : and not unfrequently they contract unsuspected habits of intemperance and li- centiousness.— Something may indeed be done, in many cases, to counteract these evils : but they are, in a great degree, inseparable from the system, and are very inade- quately counterbalanced by superior advantages for the acquisition of classical learning. " On my return from Scorton, in June 1762, 1 spent some weeks in visiting relations and acquaintance : during D 26 tATiLY LiFh. Chap. 1. which time it was a matter of deliberation whether I should not return to Scorton for another year. This I earnestly desired : for I had now no books for study or amusement. Some of my school-fellows also were about to enter at the University ; and they excited in me the desire of doing the same : — ^uhich I fondly hoped^ after another year, might be accomplished ; and which I vast- ly preferred to an apprenticeship. What, however, was deemed the more frugal plan, and what most accorded to my father's previous intention, was adopted : aud, iu September of that year, I was bound apprentice to a sur- geon and apothecary at Alford, about eight miles north of Bray toft. The person, with whom I was placed, was considered as very skilful, and had extensive practice ; and the situation was thought very advanuigeous : but he was in all respects unprindpltd^ and, 1 am of opi- nion, was an infidel. '^ In this place my habit of attending church, on the Lord's day, was first interrupted : for, on whatever other days I might have little to do, 1 was almost uni- formly employed on Sundays, from morning till even- ing.-^ *• Here, however, I might have continued, and have accpiircd professional knowledge ; and, I doubt not, should have met with adequate encouragement, in that respect, had 1 behaved well, and rendered myself useful. But my master was a widower, and was seldom at home except when business required it : so that my leisure * Medical men are too apt to consider their professional en- gagements as excusing them from attendance on public worship. How much may be done, by proper arrangement, to avoid this may be judged from the fact, ihat the extensive practice of the late Mr. Hey, of Leeds, seldom prevented his resorting to church twice on the Sunday. — See his life by John Pearson, Esc|. 1747 1763.] EARLY LIFE. W time was spent with servants, and the most improper com- panions. As to the things which I was required to do, no fault was found : but, in other respects, I behaved very ill, and gave my master just cause of complaint, and, at least, a plausible reason for dismissing me. This he accordingly did ; and at the end of two months, I return- ed home in deep disgrace. — ^Thus my father's favourite plan was disappointed, through my misconduct ; a family, respected for morality, was dishonoured ; and I was left to encounter a degree of displeasure, and mortifications re- sulting from it, which were hard enough in themselves to be endured, and to which my unhumbled heart was by no means properly disposed to submit. " Yet I must, notwithstanding, regard this short sea- son of my apprenticeship as among the choicest mercies of my life. Not that I learned any wisdom, or self-gov- ernment, or submission, by my deep and lasting disgrace and anguish : but for two reasons. The first and most important was this : My master, though himself, not onl^ irreligious, but in many respects immoral, first excited in my mind a serious conviction of sin committed against God. Remonstrating with me on one instance of my mis- conduct, he observed, that I ought to recollect, it was not only displeasing to him, but wicked in the sight of God. This remark produced a new sensation in my soul, which no subsequent eiforts could destroy ; and proved, I am fully satisfied, as far as any thing proceeding from man was instrumental to it, the primary cause of my sub- sequent conversion ! — With this circumstance, therefore, my narrative in the ' Force of Truth' commences.'^ Here, in transcribing my father's manuscript, I find it impossible not to pause, for the purpose of avowing the impression which this simple, undisguised narrative makes upon my mind, and in which, I persuade myself, -8 i:\HLV IJFK. [ClIAP. 1- 1 shall have the sympathy of all those who duly appreci- ate what the writer afterwards became. The excellent Mr. Cecil, in his usual vStriking manner, remarks, '•The history of a man's own life is, to himself, the most interesting history in the world, next to that of the Scriptures.*' He adds, ** None can either undei*stand or feel the book of his own life like himself." This is inidoubtedly true : yet the history of the human mind, \n perhaps every instance where we can fairly come at it, is and mnst be deeply interesting to all pious and thinking ])ersons. — The reflections suggested by the present narrative, at the period at which we have arri- ved, may be not at all uncommon ; yet they are both af- fecting and important. What sad marks of depravity may be traced even in the earliest periods of life, by those who honestly observe thenLselves, and judge by the holy law of God ! — How far off* from himself does Al- mighty Ood often find even his most chosen instruments of good, when he first begins to form them for his service! — And by what remarkable, what apparently trivial and most unexpected means does he frequently work, to re- claim them from their w andcrings ! Who could have expected an ungodly, and even infidel man, to use such words in remonstrating with an undutiful apprentice? and much more who could ever have anticipated the ef- fects that were to follow from them, when so used ? — I subjoin another remark of the same dear friend of my father's just (pioted : '" The Christian w ill look back throughout eternity with interest and delight on the steps and means of his conversion. ' My father said this ! My mother told me that ! Such an event was sanctified to me. In such a place God visited my soul.' These recollections will never grow dull and wearisome." — Finally, does any young person, contemplating the 1747—1763.] EARLY LIFE. 29 early aberrations of a Newton, a Cecil, a Buchanan, or a Scott; and knowing what good men they afterwards proved ; feel tempted to flatter himself that he shall live to repent, and thus " have peace,'' though he should now gratify his passions, and walk in the imagination of his own heart ?* Let him tremble to indulge the forlorn and presumptuous hope. Let him remember, that, while the few who are reclaimed from youthful depravity to piety, happiness, and usefulness, are recorded, the great multitude who sink into ruin, from which there is no return, pass unnoticed. Their's is the ordinary, the natural course. They form the rule^ the others the ex- ception.— Manasseh, the wicked son of Hezekiah, was indeed borne with during a reign of fifty-five years, and, probably in the latter part of it, brought to repentance and to God : but his son Amon, perhaps presuming on his father's example, was cut off at the end of two years, and, for aught that appears, died in his sins. The account given of the period referred to, in the opening of the " Force of Truth," may be properly in- troduced in this place. It is as follows : " Though I was not educated in what is commonly considered as ig- norance of God and religion, yet, till the sixteenth year ©f my age, I do not remember that I ever was under any serious conviction of being a sinner, in danger of wrath, or in need of mercy ; nor did I ever during this part of my life, that I recollect, offer one hearty prayer to God in secret. Being alienated from God through the igno- i'once that was in me^ I lived without him in the world ; and as utterly neglected to pay him any voluntary ser- vice, as if I had been an atheist in principle. ^*'But about my sixteenth year I began to see that T • *SeQ Dent. xxix. 18—21 M) EARLY LTFF/. [ChaP. I. was a sinner. I was indeed a leper in every part, tliere f)eing * no health in me :' but^ out of many external indi- cations of inward depravity, conscience discovered and reproached me with one especially ; and I was, for the first time, discpiieted with apprehensions of the wTath of an offended (iod. My attendance at the Lord's table was expected about the same time ; and, though I was very ignorant of the meaning and end of that sacred or- dinance, yet this circumstance, uniting with the accusa- tions of my conscience, brought an awe upon my spirits, and interrupted my before- undisturbed course of sin. " Being, however, an utter stranger to the depravity and helplessness of fallen nature, I had no doubt that I could amend my life whenever I pleased. Previously therefore to communicating, I set about an unwilling re- formation ; and, procuring a form of prayer, I attempted to pay my secret addresses to the Majesty of heaven. Having in this manner silenced my conscience, I partook of the ordinance. I held my resolutions also, and con- tinued my devotions, such as they were, for a short time : but they were a weariness and a task to me ; and, temp- tations soon returning, I relapsed ; so that my prayer- l)ook was thrown aside, and no more thought of, till my conscience was alarmed by the next warning given for the celebration of the Lord's supper. Then the same ground was gone over again, and with the same issue. Ml/ f^oodness tvas like the morning detv, that passeth mvay : and, loving sin, and disrelishing religious duties as much as ever, I returned^ as the soiv that it washed to her uuilloiviiia; in the mire. " With little variation, this was my course of life for nine years : but in that time I had such experience of my own weakness, and of the superior force of temptation, that 1 secretly concluded reformation in my case to b.e 1747 1763.] EARLY LHE. , 31 impracticable. Can the Ethiopian change his skin, or the leopard its spots P I was experimentally convinced that I was equally unable, with the feeble barrier of res- olutions and endeavours, to stem the torrent of my im- petuous inclinations, when swelled by welcome, suitable, and powerful temptations. And, being ignorant that God had reserved this to himself as his own work ; and had engaged to do it for the poor sinner, who, feeling his own insufficiency, is heartily desirous to have it done by him ; I stifled my convictions as well as I could, and put off my repentance to a more convenient season. ^^ We now return to the narrative. '' The other benefit derived from my short space of apprenticeship was this : I was dismissed for gross mis- conduct, before the whole premium agreed on had been paid : my father resolutely refused to pay the remainder ; and my master as decidedly refused to give up my inden- tures till it was paid : and no compromise was attempted. The claim of my master was, I apprehend, legal : bur his retaining my indentures, after I was finally dismissed, was an illegal method of enforceing it, for which, in the opinion of rather high authority, ample damages might have been recovered at the close of the term. The con- sequence was, that, being nominally this person's appren- tice, I could not be placed out with another : and thus I was finally excluded from that profession for which I was designed, and in which probably I should have succeed- ed as to this world ; but, in that case, the whole history of my life would have been changed.'^ My father here subjoins in a note : " My master lived till after I had published the ' Force of Truth,' and, so far from desiring damages from him, I wished and pur- posed to express my gratitude to him, as the instrument of God to me for good, by sending him a book or two, 32 KARLY LIFE. [ChAP. I. accompanied by a letter : hut I pi'ocrastinated till it was too late, which I have ever since regretted. Second thoughts, in such cases, are seldom best." It may be added, that he feelingly regretted this omis- sion, even on his dying bed. — '• Whatsoever thy hand (in (let h to do, do it with thy might" — promptly, as well as decidedly. But while my father properly acknowledges, with gratitude, the good of which providence made these events the occasion to him, it may still fairly be remark- ed, that the measure he met with from man appears to have been hard. To be thus summarily dismissed from his apprenticeship at the end of two months, on the first discovery, as it appears, of an olTence, even though a high one. — and that by a man who set him the example of immorality in his own conduct, and deprived him of the opportunity of receiving religious instruction and good impressions, on the sabbath, w\is certainly severe treat- ment. His future apparent interests in life were also sacrificed, or unwarrantably disregarded, amid the con- tentions of two high-spirited men. And the degi'adation and hardships, to which, as it will be seen, he was sub- jected through many succeeding years, appear to have been dictated rather by the mortified pride of his family, than by any just principle. Certainly, though provi- dence turned it all tor good, and rendered it subservient to the accomplishment of great events, yet the conduct of his father cannot be recommended as a model for imita- tion under similar circumstances. I would further, how- ever, remai'k, that, under the whole even of this severe dis( ipline, he was to be congratulated, or even envied, in comparison with such young persons as, in cases of similar misconduct, either escape detection, or are, by the lalsc tenderness of friends, screened from all punishment. 1747—1763.] EARLY LIFE. 33 What follows^ considered as describing that which pro- bably laid the foundation of diseases under which he suf- fered to his dying day, illustrates the remark, often made, concerning the severity with which a rightous God frequent" ly punishes sin, even where its eternal consequences are mercifully prevented. " Immediately on my return home, I was set to do, as well as I could, the most laborious and dirty parts of the work belonging to a grazier. On this I entered at the beginning of winter : and, as much of my father's farm consisted of low land, which was often flooded, I was in- troduced to scenes of hardship, and exposed to many dan" gers from wet and cold, for which my previous habits had not prepared me. In consequence I was frequently ill, and at length suffered such repeated and obstinate maladies, (especially the ague, and effects following from it, ) that my life was more than once despaired of. Yet a kind of indignant, proud self- revenge kept me from com- plaining of hardship ; though of reproach, and even of reproof, I was impatient to the greatest degree of irasci- bility. ^^I had now many serious thoughts of God, and of eternity, and every illness produced a sort of paroxysm of religion ; in which, having prayed for pardon in an earnest, but ignorant manner, I felt satisfied that I should be happy if I died ; though, as soon as I was restored to health, all my religion vanished as the morning cloud V^ Another paragraph from the ' Force of Truth' may further illustrate what is here briefly stated. — " Being of a reflecting turn, and much alone, aware of the uncer- tainty of life, I w as disquieted with continual apprehen- sions, that the more convenient seaso7i^^ for repentance^ to which I looked forward, '' would never arrive ; espe- cially as, through an unconfirmed state of health, I had E 34 EAKi-Y LI IE. [Chap. 1. many warnings, and near ])rospccts of death and eterni- ty. For a long time I entertained no doubt that impeni- tent sinners would be miserable foi* ever in hell : and, at some seasons, sueh amazing reflections upon this awful subject forced thewselves into my mind, that I was over- powered by them, and my fears became intolerable. At such times my extemporary crises for mercy were so earn- est and persevering, that I was scarcely able to give over ; though, at others, I lived without prayer of any sort. Yet, in my darkest hours, though my conscience was awa- kened to discover more and more sinfulness, there remain- ed a hope tliat I should one day repent and turn unto God. If this hope were from myself, it was a horrid presump- tion ; but the event makes \\c willing to acknowledge a pei^uasion that it w\is from the Lord : for, had it not been for this hope, I should probably have given way to temp- tations, which frequently assaulted me, to put an end to my own life, in proud discontent with my lot in this world . and in mad despair about another,'' 1763 72.] FftOM HIS APPRENTICESHIP, &C. 35 CHAPTER II.- FROM HIS APPRENTICESHIP TO HIS ORDINATION The narrative now proceeds : " After a few unsuc- cessful attempts, my father gave up all thoughts of pla- cing me out in any other way : and for above nine years I was nearly as entire a drudge as any servant or la- bourer in his employ ; and almost as little known be- yond the circle of immediate neighbours. My occupa- tion was generally about the cattle, and particularly, in the spring season, it consisted in following the ewes great with young. In this service I learned habits of hardi- ness in encountering all sorts of weather, (for the worse the weather the more needful was it that I should be with the ewes, ) which have since proved useful to me : and, though I was not kept from learning many vices, 1 was out of the way of acquiring habits of ease and indul- gence, as I should otherwise probably have done. " My situation, however, necessarily led me to asso- ciate with persons of the lowest station of life, and wholly destitute of religious principle — in all ranks the grand corrective, and in this rank almost the soul restraint upon character and manners. These persons tried to please me with flatteries, and to inflame still more the indignan- cy of spirit with which I rebelled against the supposed degradation that I suffered. I was induced also, not un- frequently, to accompany them in- their low-lived riots : 36 1 KO.M HIS AiM'UENTICESlilF [CllAP. IL which further embittered the mind of my father respect- ing me. Yet still I not only had seasons of remoi-se, but, strange to say, continued to entertain thoughts of tlie uni- versity, and of the clerical profession ! These and various ideas and imaginations concerning study, and learning, and even the distinctions of learning, formed no small part of my waking dreams, in the tedious seasons of soli- tude which I was condemned frequently to pass. Hence in the winter evenings, when not seduced from home, and at other times, when I had any leisure, I read whatever books I could procure ; and, I doubt not, should have made considerable proficiency, but for two impediments. First, my father, though himself remarkably fond of read- ing, and, for his station in life, studious, yet always con- sidered my attachment to books, even when shewn only in my leisure-hours, as wholly inconsistent with diligence in my business : so that frowns and rebukes, and frequent declarations, that he foresaw that I should come to be a charge to the parish, where my only encouragement in these pursuits ; — which greatly strengthened the tempta- tion to spend my leisure time from home, and often, un- suspected by him, in low and abandoned company. Per- haps I was sometimes engaged with a book, when I ought to have been otherwise employed : yet, after I had left him, he gave me full credit both for diligence and skill in my services. — My other impediment was, that, having had books found for my use at school, which, of course, J did not bring away with me ; I had now scarcely any thing to study relative the languages, and other subjects, on which my heart was set. A few torn Latin books I had, and a small imperfect dictionary : but not one Greek book, except an Eton granunar. " The discontent which corroded my mind, during several of these years, surpasses description ; and it sour- 1763-^ — 1772.] TO HIS ordination. 37 ed my temper beyond its natural harshness : thus render- ing me a great temptation, as well as trial, to my father, and those around me ; to whom I generally behaved very disrespectfully, not to say, insolently. After some time, however, I became rather more reconciled to my lot ; and concluded, that, though, for my misconduct at Alford, I was treated more harshly than others of the family, I should at length be provided for as a grazier : and, inconsequence, waking dreams of other pursuits seemed to be less vivid in my mind. '' I had only one surviving brother, and he was well situated in a farm : my father was far advanced in life, and not of a strong constitution : and I supposed, as I believe most of the family did, that I should succeed to his farm. But at length I discovered (for it was not intended that I should know it,) that the lease of this farm was left by will to my brother ; and that I was merely to be under tenant to him for some marsh grazing lands, which were without a house, and on which, I knew, a family could not be decently maintained. — -Indeed it has since been rendered indisputably certain, that, during the distresses of the American war, no person, so circumstanced, could possibly have stood his ground ; and numbers, far better provided for than I should have been, became day-labour- ers to the end of life.'^ Before we proceed to the consequences of the discove ry thus made, it may perhaps not be improper just to in sert here a brief notice of such of my father's family as lived till he himself became known to the public, and who will be adverted to in subsequent parts of these memoirs. They were four in number ; three sisters, and the broth- er above-mentioned. Margaret the wife of Mr. Thomas Ford, attorney at law, died in London in the year 1801 : Bridget, his youngest sister, wife of Mr. Francis Burgess. 38 1 KOM Ills APPRENTICESHIP [ChAP. 11, a manufacturer and alderman of Leicester, died there in 1814 ; and Susamia, tlie widow of Mr. Thomas Webster, of Boston, who was four years older than my father, died at the house of her son. the vicar of Oakington, near Cambiidge, in the montli of April, 1820. Mrs. Webster will frecjuently be mentioned in the following pages under the description of the elder* and Mrs. Ford under that of the younger sister. The brother (William) was thirteen years older than my father, and died only the year before him (March, 1820,) at Boston. In speaking of him I should be sorry to say any thing painful to the feelings of survivors ; but there was some tiling so remarkably different in the history of the two brothers, that it is hardly to be passed over without notice. William was a man of pow erful understanding, strong health, and come- ly person. The favourite of his family and of the neigh- bourhood ; he set out in life with every advantage. His education was indeed plain, yet at eighty years of age he wrote on subjects connected with his own line of life, so as to obtain much applause, and to be styled in some pe- riodical ])ublications, ' the Nestor of agriculture.' Yet. by the indulgence of unsubdued tempei*s, he involved himself in great vexations and troubles ; and was, by va- rious means, at length reduced to be dependent for sub- sistence, in great part, upon that very younger brother who in early life had been almost the outcast of his family, and of whom it had been foretold that he would come to be ' a charge to the parish :' but who. through the happy influence of true religion u])on his whole temper and con- duct, was now living in credit and esteem, " blessed him- self, and a blessing*'' to all around him. So true is it, that " God seeth not as man seeth.'*t ^^^ the elder brother was by no means regardless of religion : he took * Gen. xii. 2, t 1 Sam. xvi. 7. 1763 — 1772.] TO HIS ordination. 2B a lively interest in it ; and I would fain hope felt its pow- er : but alas ! he was far from taking it up in that right manner J and applying it to all the duties of life, as his younger brother did. My father was thus eventually the survivor of the whole family^ and was for years acknowledged by them all as their common friend and benefactor. — But we return from this digression, into which the mention of his '* only sur- viving brother/' on whom the last will of his father was to render him dependent, has led us. He proceeds : ^^ On this discovery, I determined to make some effort^ however desperate, to extricate myself : and I only wait- ed for an opportunity to declare my determination. With- out delay, my Greek grammar was studied through and through ; and I made what use I could of my Latin books : my father, in the mean time, expressing his astonishment at my conduct. '^ At length, in April, 1772, I avowed my intention, in almost the worst manner possible. After a long wet day of incessant fatigue, I deemed myself, and perhaps with justice, to be causelessly and severely blamed, and I gave full vent to my indignant passions ; and, throwing aside my shepherd's frock, declared my purpose no more to resume it. That night, I lodged at my broths er's^ at a little distance : but, in the morning, I consid- ered that a large flock of ewes, in yeaning time, had no one to look after them, who was competent to the task. I therefore returned, and did what was needful ; and then set off for Boston, where a clergyman resided, with whom I had contracted some acquaintance, by convers- ing with him on common matters, when he came to do duty in my brother's village, and took refreshment at his house. *' To this clergyman I opened my mind with hesitation 40 1 ROM Ills APPRENTICESHIP [ChAP. II. and trepidation : and nothing could well exceed his as- tonishment when he heard my purpose of attempting to ohtain orders. He knew me only as a shepherd, some- wliat more conversible. perhaps, than others in that sta- tion, and immediately asked, * Do you know any thing of Latin and (ireek ?' I told him, I had received education, but that for almost ten years I had never seen a Greek book, except the grammar. He instantly took down a Greek Testament, and put it into my hands ; and without difliculty I read several verses, giving both the Latin and English rendering of them, according to the custom of our school. On this, having strongly expressed his sur- prise, he said, ' Our visitation will be next week : the Archdeacon, Dr. Gordon, will be here ; and, if you will be in the town^ I will mention you to him, and induce him, if I can, to send for you.' This being settled, I returned immediately to my father for the intervening days ; knowing how much, at that season, he wanted my help, for services which he could no longer perform himself, and was not accustomed to entrust to servants.'' It is certainly gratifying, amid the representations which my father has given of his own temper and conduct at this time, to meet with these proofs, that, however ira- scible, he did not retain resentment, and quickly return- ed to some sense of filial duty. It may at least gratify the reader's curiosity to peruse an extract of a letter writ- ten just at this period. It is the earliest but one that has come into my hands. It is dated ^^ Boston, May 17, 1772," (less than a month after first quitting his father.) and is addressed to his sisters. " As I expected, I had some difficulty in reconciling my friends here to my intended scheme. My uncle Jackson, as my god -father, reminded me of my duty to my father. My answer was, that I found I could not perform 1763 — 1772.] TO HIS ordination. 41 the positive part^ I must therefore endeavour to perform the negative part : that, though in my former conduct I had too often transgressed, yet in this particular my con- science acquitted me. My aunt urged that, if I had not success, I could turn my hand to nothing else. I men- tioned a school, for which I think myself well qualified, being so able to instruct myself. However, after a long and serious discourse on the subject, I left them both tole- rably well satisfied. My cousin Wayet has said nothing to me on the subject. Mrs. Wayet endeavoured to rally me out of it : but, I must own, I thought her arguments weak. She urged the ridicule which poor parsons meet with : but surely those who ridicule any one on account of his poverty, if he behaves in a manner worthy of his situation, are themselves persons whose opinion I despise. — She said, she would not be of any profession, unless at the head of it : but this can be no rule for general prac- tice, as some must be subordinate. — She mentioned my not being brought up in a regular manner : but it is the end, not the means, that is of the greatest consequence ; and, if a man be qualified, it matters not at what place he procured his qualifications. It sometimes humbles my vanity to hear them all account of me, as of one of the lowest order of the profession, not only in point of fortune, but also in other particulars. If I know myself, I am not deficient in abilities, though I am in the art of ren- dering them conspicuous ; my vanity prompts me to say, that I am not without hopes of making friends in this way of life, as I shall be more conversant with men of let- ters, who are the companions I most delight in, and for whose company I shall spare no pains to qualify myself. But let my condition in life be what it will, I will endea^ vour to suit myself to it. Pray heaven preserve me in- dependent on any other for a livelihood, and I ask no F 42 FROM HIS APPKENTICKSmi' [CHAl'. II. more ! The happiest hours I ever spent have been in your company, and the greatest rehictance I feel at this change of my situation is, the being separated from a set of sistei*s, for whom I have the most sincere regard." He resists his *• heaviness" by the text, '' Why art thou so heavy, 0 my soul? and why art thou so disquieted within me?"' *• As the appointed time/' he says in his narrative, •^ I returned to Boston, (where my family was well known,) and readily found access to the Archdeacon, who A\as also examining chaplain to the Bishop of Lincoln, Dr. Green. Before him I repeated, in another part of the Greek Testament, what I had done at the clergyman's house ; and was asked many questions, which I answered without the least disguise. The Archdeacon concluded the interview, by assuring me that he would state my case to the Bishop, and saying that he thought it probable his lordship would ordain me. •• Thus encouraged, I expended all the little money, which I could raise, on books; went to live at Boston; and applied diligently to study — especially to improve my knowledge of the Greek Testament, (the Gospels in par- ticuhus) and to recover, or rather to accpiire, the ability of composing in Latin. In English, I had now^ for some years been ready in expressing my thoughts, and had even been, in some instances, a writer in newspapers and ma gazines. I daily, therefore, wrote in Latin, on texts of Scripture, a sort of short sermons, which my friend, the clergyman, revised ; and, in return, I afforded him very seasonable and welcome assistance in a grammar-school, which he Uuight.*' — In a note it is here observed, ^^My ability of writing, and tlic How of my ideas came to me chiefly by corresponding with my sistei-s, on sentimenta^ and other subjects." — The narrative proceeds : 1763 — 1772.] TO HIS ordination. 43 '' The religious, or rather irreligious, state of my mind, at this period has been shown in the ' Force of Truth :' but regard to decorum, in many respects, ren- dered my outward conduct more correct than formerly ; and I constantly attended at the church, and the Lord's table. '' Every circumstance concurred with my eagerness of spirit to render it desirable that matters should be brought to a crisis : and those, whom alone I could consult, were of opinion, that it was as likely that I should obtain ordi- nation on the ensuing Trinity- Sunday, (June 14,) as at a future period. This was not seven weeks from the time of my first leaving my father. Having therefore procur- ed a title to a small curacy, (Martin, near Horncastle,) I^ with great labour, walking above fifty miles for the pur- pose, got my testimonials signed, and other things in re- gular order. I had learned from the Archdeacon, that the ordination would be held in London ; and, having sent my papers to the Bishop, though I received no answer, I went thither at the appointed time. But on my arrival I was informed, that, as my papers had not come in time, and other circumstances were not satisfactory, I was not admitted a candidate. In fact, I was most groundlessly suspected of metMdism ! — On this I earnestly entreated that his lordship would allow me to speak with him : and he very condescendingly complied with my request. He asked me many questions as to the manner and events of my past life ; my family, my prospects, and my reasons for wishing to enter into orders : and I answered all with unreserved sincerity and frankness ; which, apart from religion, I then thought, and still think, the best pru- dence. He however still negatived my urgent request to be admitted as a candidate at that ordination : but he said, that, if I would procure my father's consent, and a let- 44 FROM iiis Ari'UENTicEsmi' [CiiAP. n. tcr from any beneficed clergyman in the neigh bonrhood, whom he knew, probably he should admit me at the next ordination. This answer, however, induced a kind of despair. I was not personally known to half-a-dozen clergymen of the description recpiired, and my attempt was utterly reprobated by every one of them, Jis in a high degree presumptuous. 1 was now in the twenty-sixth year of my age, wholly without the prospect of a decent subsistence : yet my father most decidedly set himself against my design ; and, if his consent w ere necessary, there could be, as I thought, no hope. — Having, there- fore, spent a short time in London, in viewing some of its curiosities, (for I had not been there before,) and in visiting some relations, in rather a superior station ; and, having received from them some inappropriate counsel, and, I tliink, undeserved rebukes, with a few small pre- sents, I set out on my journey home. I travelled by a circuitous route, a great part of the w ay on foot, and the rest in various vehicles. At length I reached Braytoft, after walking twenty miles in the forenoon ; and, having dined, I put off my clerical clothes, resumed my shep- herd's dress, and sheared eleven large sheep in the af- ternoon !'' The reader can scarcely fail to be struck with the en- ergy of character displayed in this simple narrative, or to be amused with the exhibition of it, which the finish- ing day's work afforded. Whatever the subject of this memoir did, he '* did it with his might.'' ^*This, however,-' he observes, ** was my last labour of the kind. My attempt to obtain orders had been widely made known in the neighbourhood, even much beyond, the sphere of my personal acquaintance ; and it had ex- cited much attention and astonishment, with no small de- gree of ridicule. This raised the spirit of my relations; 1763 — 1772.] TO HIS ordination. 45 and the sentiment expressed by my brother was that of the other branches of the family : ' I wish/ said he^ ' my brother had not made the attempt : but I cannot bear to have it said, that one of our name undertook what he was unable to accomplish !' " In consequence of this sensation, my brother and all my sisters met by appointment at my father's house ; and, with my mother, urged it in the most earnest manner, as his indispensible duty, either to consent to my ordina- tion, or to fix me in a farm on my own account. I ap- prehend it was clearly foreseen what his concession would be, if he could be induced to concede at all : and accord- ingly, after much debate, he gave his consent in writing to my entering into orders. " Thus the difficulty, which I regarded as insuperable, was, in a most unexpected manner, surmounted; and, my hopes reviving, I was prepared to struggle over other obstacles, if possible. Despairing of obtaining a letter to the Bishop from any of the beneficed clergymen to whom, as living within a few miles, I was in some de- gree known, I applied without delay to the vicar of Bos- ton, Dr. Calthorp, who was well acquainted with my mo- ther and her family, though he had seldom, if ever, seen me, till I met the archdeacon at his house. He behaved in the most candid manner ; yet, as a truly conscientious man, (which I believe he really was,) he said justly, that he could not sign my testimonial, or state any thing con- cerning me from his own knowledge, except for the short time which had passed since I first came to his house : but that he could give a favourable account as to that time ; and, if I could procure attestations from any re- spectable persons, though not clergymen, he would trans- mit them, with his own letter, to the bishop. — Thus en- couraged, I went again to reside at Boston, where I ap ^^ FHOM HIS APPRKNTICFSHIP. [ChAP. II. plied diligently to my studies : but I wjis greatly frown ed on by many of my relations ; and I frequently heard the laugh of the boys, as I walked about the streets in a brown coat, and with lank hair, pointing me out as * the parson!'"^ — If this were a species of persecution, it cer- tainly was not for Chrisfs sake, or for right eousripss^ sake : for the account given in the ' Force of Truth' suf- ficiently shews, that I w^as estranged from both at this time. "At the ensuing Michaelmas ordination I was admit- ted a candidate without objection, and was examined at Biickden by Dr. Gordon. After examination on other matters, he asked me numerous questions concerning the nature of miracles ; how real miracles might be distin- guished from counterfeit ones ; and how they proved the truth of the doctrine in support of which they were v.'rought. This was, indeed, almost the only theological topic which I had studied with any tolerable attention. He, however, perceived that I began to be alarmed, and kindly said, ' You need not be uneasy: I only wished to try of what you were capable : and I perceive that Chris- tianity has got an able advocate in you.' — I could not find myself at liberty wholly to suppress this remarkable at- testion, which, I believe, is expressed in exactly the words he used : but had he known, either my creed, and the state of my heart, at that time; or whither my subse- quent inquiries would idtimately lead me ; I am persua- ded he would not have spoken as he did : though he was a far more reasonable and candid man, in respect of those who diirered from him, even though vilified as methodists and enthusiasts, than is commonly met with." From two letters of my father's, addressed to his sis- * " All clergymen, at that time, either wore wigs, or had their hair dressed." 1763 — 1772.] TO HIS ordination. 47 ters, and dated the one at Buckden^ the day on which he was ordained deacon, the other at London, March 13, 1773, the day before he received priest's orders, it may be collected, that he passed both his examinations with much credit; and that, had the latter ordination taken place in the country, he was to have had the honour of preaching before the bishop on the occasion. As a specimen of his early correspondence, and a con- firmation of what he has declared concerning his state of mind at the time, I am induced to give the former of these letters, — premising, however, that it is of a very different character from any other that will be inserted in this work. " Buckden, September 20, 1772. — Dear Sisters, Suc- cess is always agreeable ; though there is a success that would have been mortifying ; but mine is of the most agreeable sort. Compliments, high compliments from both Dr. Gordon and my fellow candidates As I have a little time to spare, I shall endeavour to give you a sketch of my companions here. The first I shall men- tion is a Scotchman, a man of parts. To a sound judg- ment he joins a most ready wit, and an agreeable affabili- ty. He tells a story in his Scotch dialect in the most hu- morous manner imaginable. He is eqally qualified for serious or literary conversation ; and I have contracted something of an intimacy with him. His fault is, that he is too sensible of his own abilities. — The next is a most solemn ignoramus ; a member of the university ; who knows just as much Latin as I did when I had been two years at Scorton. He is in deacon's orders : so, in solemn consultation, we made a theme for him ; and, as he is a man that bears a good character, Dr. G., I believe, know- ingly overlooked it. Had we not assisted him, it would have gone nigh to have killed him. — The third is a metho- 60 PliOM HIS APPRENTICESHIP [ChAP. II. ever your great and daring spirits may despise it, I deem a great advantage." The other i-ehites to the motive which had led him to decide in favour oF Bu(kinghamshire. "October 23, 1772. — I thought, when I got so far from home, nobody would know in what way of life I had been, but I was mistaken. By many expressions and ac- tions, which I have made use of, every one knows that I am well acquainted with the grazing business, and my company is much desired by the farmers, to discourse with me on our methods of proceeding in Lincolnshire : but I perceive not that it is any detriment to me. In truth I am very ill calculated to act the hypocrite. When I am asked a question which I know how to answer, I cannot pretend ignorance. Sincerity in words is so natu- ral to me, that I do not think it any merit ; for I can hardly help speaking as I think, though afterwards I ac- cuse myself of indiscretion. Discretion, in the lesser branches of it, an ingenious artless person can hardly prac- tice : and I know not whether it be worth his while to attempt it.'' "The Force of Truth,'' he now observes, "sufficient- ly explains the state of my heart and my conduct, as it must have appeared in the sight of God, in this most solemn concern of my ordination ; and it suffices here to say, that, considered in all respects, I deliberately judge this whole transaction to have been the most atrocious wickedness of my life. But I did not, at the time, in any degree regard it in this light ; nor did I, till long after, feel any remoi^e of conscience for my prevaricating^ if not directly li/ing subscriptions and declarations, and all the evil of niy motives and actions, in the whole concern. — Yet a sermon preached by a young man, who was or- dained priest at the time, butwho never appeared amongst 1763 — 1772.] TO HIS ordination. 51 us, on the office and duty of a minister, attracted my at- tention ; met my approbation ; and I think, on reflec- tion, was of some use to me. His name, as I recollect, was Symmonds : I have since heard of him ; but know nothing particular of his subsequent history. However, I feel assured, that good sermons, on such occasions, con- cerning the ministerial office and duty, especially if preached by seniors, would produce very important ef- fects on young men, too often thoughtlessly assuming a sacred character, without having ever been seriously ad- monished of their duty and responsibility.'' Some passages from the ' Force of Truth' may here, again, be advantageously placed before the reader. — - ^' At this period/' says the author — referring to the time when he lived at home with his father, subsequently to his apprenticeship — " though I was the slave of sin, yet, my conscience not being pacified, and my principles not greatly corrupted, there seemed some hope concerning me : but at length Satan took a very effectual method of silencing my convictions, that I might sleep securely in my sins : and justly was I given over to a strong delusion to believe a lie, when I held the truth that I did know in unrighteousness. I met with a Socinian comment o» the scriptures, and greedily drank the poison, because it quieted my fears, and flattered ray abominable pride. The whole system coincided exactly with my inclinations, and the state of my mind. In reading this exposition, sin seemed to lose its native ugliness, and to appear a very small and tolerable evil ; man's imperfect obedience seemed to shine with an excellency almost divine ; and God appeared so entirely and necessarily merciful, that he could not make any of his creatures miserable, w ith- out contradicting his natural propensity. These things influenced my" mind so powerfully, that I was enabled to ^0 PROM HIS APPRENTICESHIP [ChAP. II. ever your grent and daring spirits may despise it, I deem a great advant;ige.*' The otiier relates to the motive which had led him to decide in lavour of Bik kinghamshire. ^^ October 23, 1772. — I thought, when I got so far from home, nobody would know in what way of life I had been, but I was mistaken. By many expressions and ac- tions, which I have made use of, every one knows that I am well acquainted with the grazing business, and my company is much desired by the farmers, to discourse with me on our methods of proceeding in Lincolnshire : but I perceive not that it is any detriment to me. In truth I am very ill calculated to act the hypocrite. When I am asked a question which I know how to answer, I cannot pretend ignorance. Sincerity in words is so natu- ral to me, that I do not think it any merit ; for I can hardly help speaking as I think, though afterwards I ac- cuse myself of indiscretion. Discretion, in the lesser branches of it, an ingenious artless person can hardly prac- tice : and I know not whether it be worth his while to attempt it.'' ^^The Force of Truth,^' he now observes, "sufficient- ly explains the state of my heart and my conduct, as it must have appeared in the sight of God, in this most solemn concern of my ordination ; and it suffices here to say, that, considered in all respects, I deliberately judge this whole transaction to have been the most atrocious wickedness of my life. But I did not, at the time, in any degree regard it in this light ; nor did I, till long after, feel any remoi^e of conscience for my prevaricating, if not directly lying subscriptions and declarations, and all the evil of my motives and a( tions, in the whole concern. — Yet a sermon preached by a young man, who was or- dained priest at the time, butwho never appeared amongst 1763 — 1772.] TO HIS ordination. 51 us, on the office and duty of a minister, attracted my at- tention ; met my approbation ; and I think, on reflec- tion, was of some use to me. His name, as I recollect, was Symmonds : I have since heard of him ; but know nothing particular of his subsequent history. However, I feel assured, that good sermons, on such occasions, con- cerning the ministerial office and duty, especially if preached by seniors, would produce very important ef- fects on young men, too often thoughtlessly assuming a sacred character, without having ever been seriously ad- monished of their duty and responsibility." Some passages from the ' Force of Truth' may here, again, be advantageously placed before the reader. — - ^^ At this period/' says the author — referring to the time when he lived at home with his father, subsequently to his apprenticeship — " though I was the slave of sin, yet, my conscience not being pacified, and my principles not greatly corrupted, there seemed some hope concerning me : but at length Satan took a very effectual method of silencing my convictions, that I might sleep securely in my sins : and justly was I given over to a strong delusion to believe a lie, when I held the truth that I did know in unrighteousness. I met with a Socinian comment on the scriptures, and greedily drank the poison, because it quieted my fears, and flattered my abominable pride. The whole system coincided exactly with my inclinations, and the state of my mind. In reading this exposition, sin seemed to lose its native ugliness, and to appear a very small and tolerable evil ; man's imperfect obedience seemed to shine with an excellency almost divine ; and God appeared so entirely and necessarily merciful, that he could not make any of his creatures miserable, with- out contradicting his natural propensity. These things influenced my" mind so powerfully, that I was enabled to 52 IKOM HIS APHHENTICKSmi' [ChAP. It. consider myself, notwitlistaiuliiig a lew little l)lennshes, as upon the whole a very worthy being. At the same time, the mysteries of the gospel being explained away, or brought down to the level of man's comprehension, by such pi'oud and corrupt, though specious reasonings ; by acceding to these sentiments, I was, in my own opini- on, in point of understanding and discernment, exalted to a superiority above the generality of mankind : and I pleased myself in looking down with contempt upon such as were weak enough to believe the orthodox doctrines. Thus I generally soothed my conscience : and, if at any time I was uneasy at the apprehension that I did not thoroughly deserve eternal happiness, and was not en- tirely fit for heaven ; the same book afforded me a soft pillow on which to lull myself to sleep. It argued, and I then thought proved, that there were no eternal tor- ments : and it insinuated, that there were no torments except for notorious sinners ; and that such as should just fall short of heaven would sink into their original no- thing. With this welcome scheme I silenced all my fears, and told my accusing conscience, that, if I fell short of heaven, I should be annihilated, and never be sensible of my loss ^' 111 this aw^ful state of mind I attempted to obtain ad- mission into holy orders ! As far as I understood such controversies, I was nearly a Socinian and Pelagian, and wholly an Arminian. . . . While I was preparing for the so- lemn ofiice, I lived, as before, in known sin, and in utter neglect of prayer ; my whole preparation consisting of nothing else, than an attention to those studies, which were more imme^liately requisite for reputably passing through the previous examination. '^ Thus with a heart full of pride and wickedness ; my life polluted with many unrepented, unforsaken sins ; 1763 — 1772.] TO HIS ordination. 53 without one cry for mercy, one prayer for direction or assistance, or for a blessing upon what I was about to do ; after having concealed my real sentiments under the mask of general expressions ; after having subscribed articles directly contrary to what I believed ; and after having blasphemously declared, in the presence of God and of the congregation, in the most solemn manner, sealing it with the Lord's Supper, that I judged myself to be ' inward- ly moved by the Holy Ghost to take that office upon me,' — not knowing or believing that there was any Holy Ghost, — on September the 20th, 1772, I was ordained a deacon. " For ever blessed be the God of all long-suffering and mercy, who had patience with such a rebel and blasphe- mer ; such an irreverent trifler with his majesty ; and such a presumptuous intruder into his sacred ministry ! I never think of this daring wickedness, without being fill- ed with amazement that I am out of hell : without adoring that gracious God, who permitted such an attrocious sin- ner to live, yea, to serve him, and with acceptance, I trust, to call him Father, and as his minister to speak in his name. Bless the Lord^ 0 my soul^ and^ all that is within me, bless his holy name ! Bless the Lord,, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits ! who forgiveth all thy iniquities, and healeth all thy diseases ; who re- deemeth thy life from destruction ; who crowneth thee with loving-kindness and tender mercies ! May I fer- vently love, and very humbly and devotedly serve that God, who hath multiplied his mercies in abundantly par- doning my complicated provocations !'' Seldom, I believe, has a prayer been more strikingly answered, than that which my dear father here so hum- bly and fervently offers ; as his subsequent life, during a period of five and forty years^ amply testified. 54 I ROM HIS APPRENTICESHIP [ChAP. II. He ])roceeds, (still in the Force of Truth,) " I had considerable difliculties to surmount in obtaining admis- sion into the ministry, arising from my peculiar circum- stances ; which likewise rendered my conduct the more inexcusable : and my views, as far as I can ascertain them, were these three : a desire of a less laborious, and more comfortiible way of procuring a maintenance, than otherwise I had the prospect of: — the expectation of more leisure to employ in reading, of which I was inor- dinately fond : — and a proud conceit of my abilities, with a vain-glorious imagination, that I should some time dis" tinguish and advance myself in the literary world. These were my ruling motives in taking this bold step : motives as opposite to those which should influence men to enter on the sacred office, as pride is opposite to humility, am- bition to contentment in a low estate, and a willingness to be the least of all, and the servant of all ; as oppo- site as love of self, of the world, of filthy lucre, and slothful ease, is to the love of God, of souls, and of the laborious work of the ministry. To me therefore be the shame of this heinous sin, and to God be all the glory of over-ruling it for good, I trust, both to unworthy me, and to his dear people, the church tvhich he hath pur- chased ivith his own blood .''* Having thus brought down the history of my father's life to the period of his ordination, without suppressing one material word which he has written upon the subject, it appears to me that there are two points which may need some apology ; meaning by that term, however, ra- ther defence than excuse. First, I know not whether some readers may think, * See further my father's Practical Observations on the case of " Korah and his company," Numbers xvi. 1763 — 1772.] TO HIS ordination. 56 that the particulars relative to his admission into holy orders are detailed with an unnecessary minuteness. My answer to such an objection must be, that I cannot allow the introduction into the church of the subject of these memoirs to be put on the same footing with evert/ event of the like nature. In its consequences it has proved to thousands, and I doubt not will prove to thousands more, of the highest importance. In its circumstances, there- fore, which were not common ones, and in themselves in- volve a remarkable display of character, it cannot fail to be interesting to all, who take pleasure in tracing the means by which providence accomplishes its designs, often rendering the evil passions, or evil conduct of man sub- servient to the display of the goodness of God. The other point is one which it is of much greater im- portance to place in a just light : I mean the severe judg- ment, as many will think it, which my father passes upon himself and his own conduct. This extends itself to every part of his life : to his early days at school ; to his ap- prenticeship ; to his conduct while subsequently resident with his father ; and to no period, nor to any event, more remarkably than to his taking upon him the sacred office of the ministry. We read here nothing of the levities or the indiscretions of youth, where real immoralities are intended ; nothing of simple improprieties, and the want of greater consideration and more serious thought. The offences of the school-boy are sins against God : unduti- fulness to a parent, even though the conduct of that pa- rent be marked by some degree of harshness, is regard- ed as a crime : and, above all, tampering with solemn sub- scriptions, and intruding into the sacred office from am- bitious, self-indulgent, and other unhallowed motives, is felt as an impiety, which no words are strong enough to describe. Yet, after all, some may be ready to ask, and j6 from his apprenticeship [Chap. II. not without a degree of justice, What was there, at least it* one or two exceptions be made, woi^e than is found in thousands, who are never troubled with any such apprehensions of the enormity of their conduct ? — Now I feel that I proceed entirely upon principles which he, whose case gives occasion to the enquiry, would sanc- tion, and, what is still more important, upon the princi- ples of scripture itself, when I return the following an- swer to this question. Every thing depends upon the standard by which we judge. If the current opinions of mankind be our standard, then it will be easy for us to " make light of sin," — our own sins, and those of others. But if, with the holy character before us — for such he had become before he wrote either of his narra- tives,— we " enter into the sanctuary of God,'' and judge by the standard of his holy law, — especially as it is ex- plained by our blessed Saviour in his sermon on the mount, — then the purest and most blameless among us will find reason to cry, even with anguish of spirit, " God be mer- ciful to me a sinner !" If we there obtain some glimpses of the majesty and glory of the '* holy, holy, holy. Lord God almighty," then, far from shining in our own eyes, or comparing ourselves, to our own advantage, with our fellow sinners, we shall be prepared, with Job, and Da- vid, and Isaiah, and Daniel, and St. Peter, and St. Paul,* and Augustine, t and a thousand others who have obtain- ed "^ good report" in the annals of the church, to ex- claim, " 1 abhor myself and repent in dust and ashes. — Wo is me, I am undone ! — Remember not against me the sins and offences of my youth!" — And this is the true * Job,xlii.Psal.xxv, li. Isa. vi. Luke v. 8. 1 Tim. i. 12—16. ' t See the affecting and edifying abstract of his Confessions in Milner's Church Hist. vol. ii.— And on the whole subject, sec my father's Discourse on Repentance. 1763 — 1772.] TO HIS ordination. 57 explanation of the judgment which my father passes upon his own character and conduct. And, with respect to the particular part of the ahove narrative, which relates to the views and motives for en- tering into holy orders, let me join its author in earnestly soliciting a most serious attention to it, from all those of the clergy whose eye it may meet, and who may never yet have taken such solemn views, as they will think them, of their own office, and of the temper with which it should be undertaken. Many persons of this class are known to have been brought to a new, and what I must be allow- ed to call, a better sense of the subject, by what my fa- ther has already laid before the public concerning his own case : and my prayer is, that that case, when thus anew, and more fully presented, may be attended with like effects to many more. The reasons assigned in the former of these two reflec- tions induce me not to omit an incident, yet more mi]iute. but still having its place to fill in bringing about the event under consideration. My father has recorded it as follows. •^ One circumstance, very trivial in itself, was so im- portant in its consequences, that I am not willing to pass it over. — At the sheep- shearing which followed my dis- graceful return from Alford, in 1762, a small ewe-lamb, marked with a black spot on the side, in rather a peculi- ar manner, attracted my notice : and my father, being probably in high good- humour on the occasson, gave it me ; and, though kept among his sheep, it was branded as mine. Though I was always nearly moneyless, and never possessed a guinea in my life, till I was above twen- ty years old, I never yielded to the temptation of selling any of the lambs which this ewe brought me : so that by management, in exchanging male lambs for young ewes, H 58 FROM HIS AFPKENTICKSHIP. [ChAP. 11- notwithstiinding the loss of nine of my little flock, in one year, by the rot, I possessed sixty- eight sheep, besides lambs, when I attempted to obtiiin orders. These, after many objections, my lather purchased for 68/. : and this constituted the whole of my fortune. I had not a friend in the world who offered to advance me five pounds in my exigency ; and I verily believe, that, if the success orfailui^ of my application had depended upon it, no one w ould have been found able and willing to advance monc} sufficient for my expences. When my flither had grant- his consent, I had no expectation, and perhaps, after all the vexation which my ill-behaviour had caused him, I had no fair reason to expect, that he would give any thing further. But with this 68/. I bought needful books ; boarded myself for some time at Boston ; pro- cured suitable clothes ; paid all travelling expences, and those attending my ordination ; and entered on my cura- cies possessed of twenty guineas, — a sum which, at that time, was indeed to me considerable. — On such trivial in- cidents do the most important events depend ; without this lamb, and the sheep which in this way I acquired, as far as I can see, my whole plan of entering into holy orders must have failed.'' From a series of my father's letters to two of his sisters,, extending from within one month after his quitting Bray- toft, in April, 1772, till near the close of his life, for w hich I am indebted to my esteemed relative, the Rev. Thomas Webster, I am happy here to confirm, what I before took occasion to infer, the speedy revival of sen- timrnts of filial duty in his breast, whatever irritation he might at the time have felt and expressed. Not a sen- tence of a disrespectful kind towards his fiUher occurs in these free and confidential communications ; but they contain many which express great respect and regard. 1763 — 1772.] TO HIS ordination. 59 May 17, 1772, he says, " In my actions to my father, I never offended ; in my words, I have too often : but my chief desire is to avoid that for the future.'' — September 18, 1773 : " Surely nothing can afford more satisfaction to the considerate breast, than to comfort the heart of an aged parent." This indeed is spoken with especial re- ference to his mother. — January 5, 1774 ; of his father and mother : " May all the blessings we have each receiv- ed from them (perhaps not the most inconsiderable when the most unpalatable,) be tenfold repaid them, here or hereafter, by the God of mercies !" — July 20, 1774 : ^' To give pain or uneasiness to others I hardly bear ; but to give pain premeditately to a parent, even by inno- cent conduct, w^ounds my sensibility, and staggers my resolution, even where I think my duty is at stake.'' — What a tender concern he felt for his father, when he had himself become more decidedly religious, we may have future opportunities of discerning. Indeed justice requires the remark, that this whole series of letters, from the very first, conveys a more fa- vourable impression, than his own report would have led us to expect, of his social character. The constant, co- pious, and confidential correspondence kept up with his sisters would, of itself, be a very favourable indication upon this subject. But, in addition to this, the letters throughout breathe strong affection to all his family, and shew him to have taken a lively interest in their concerns ; and to have been zealous to serve them, as well as quali- fied to do so by great acuteness and sound sense. 00 ! KUM HIS CUtlJiNAI ION. ChAV HI- CHAPTER III. FROM HIS ORDINATION TO IIIS MAKRIAGJB. We no proceed to contemplate the subject of our me- moirs in his new and higher character of a minister of the established church. ^^ After the ordination, having officiated on two Sun- days as Martin, in almost an empty church, (for service was very seldom performed there,) I removed to Stoke Goldington, and entered on my new curacies ; boarding with a parishioner for twenty guineas a year. ^^My regular services were at Stoke and Weston Un- derwood : but my rector was sub-deam of Lincoln ; and, when he went thither into residence, he procured other supplies for Weston, and 1 ofHciated at Gayhurst, where George Wrighte, Esq. had a seat. This soon brought me acquainted with the family. Mr. W. was a descen- dent of Sir Nathan Wrighte, Lord Keeper in the reign of Queen Anne : and Mrs. W. was the only daughter of Sir Joseph Jekyll, Master of the Rolls, by lady Anne, daughter of the Earl of Halifax. They were wealthy and liberal, and lived in a most hospiUible manner. They had been married several years, but had only one son, quite a child, who was considered as heir to large estates possessed by relatives, who had no children. '^ Having several times dined at the house on Sundays, after my second service, I was repeatedly invited to dine with parties on other occasions : and, notwithstanding 1772 — 1774.] TO HIS marriage. 61 my rusticity^ I received so many invitations from differ- ent quarters, that I was compelled to be almost rude, in order to secure time for those studies to which I now ap- plied with indefatigable zeal. " After a time Mr. W. employed me to put his library in order, and to make catalouge of the books ; which, as consisting of the libraries of both families, w ere numerous and valuable, but in a state of the utmost confusion. I had no pecuniary remuneration ; but a considerable num- ber of duplicates, sufficient to recompense my labour. — This service I contrived to render without much en- trenching on my hours of study. " Thus commenced an acquaintance, which produced important effects on my future life. ^^ Soon after my ordination Ilearned, that clergymen, not educated at the university, might enter at Cambridge, and, without residence, might after nine years take the degree of Bachelor of Divinity. This w\as represented to me as one step towards distinctions and advantages, to which I was sufficiently alive. Having therefore obtain- ed from a relation a letter to Dr. Caryll, Master of Jesus College, I went to Cambridge ; and, on exhibiting in sev- eral circles my stock of Latin and Greek, now somewhat increased, I met with that kind and degree of applause, which abundantly elated my inexperienced heart. I then entered at Clare- Hall, where my name stood for sev- eral years : but, though the expence did not much exceed four guineas a year, when I had a family, I found it more than I could conveniently spare ; and, my expectation and desire of preferments and distinctions being surper- seded by earnestness in the grand concerns of vital reli- gion, I took my name off the the boards. In this, I have for some years doubted whether I acted wisely.'' Some other topics connected with my father's progress: 62 KROM HIS oRDiNATiox. [Chap. III. may here properly receive illustration from his printed account of himself, and from his private letters. His studies^ as they were at this time the object near- est his heart, may be first noticed. '' No sooner," he tells us in the ^ Force of Truth,' " was I fixed in a cura- cy, than with close application I sat down to the study of the learned languages, and such other subjects as I con- sidered most needful in order to lay the foundation of my future advancement. And oh that I were now as diligent in serving God, as I was then in serving self and ambition! 1 spared no pains, I shunned, as much as I well could, all acquaintance and diversions, and retrenched from my usu- al hours of sleep, that I might keep more closely to this business." My memory much deceives me if I have not repeated- ly heard my father state, that, at the period of his visit to Cambridge, about the month of June, 1773, (nine months after his ordination,) he had read through the en- tire works of Josephus in the original Greek : which would of itself be no ordinary proof of his diligence, in the circumstances in which he was placed. But the following extract of a letter to one of his sis- ters, dated September 18, 1773, will present the best picture of the ardour of his mind in these pursuits at the time referred to. — " I have for some time pursued my studies with assiduity, but I have only lately got to pursue them with method. I am now about three hours in the day engaged in the Hebrew. The books I use are a He- brew Bible, grammars, and lexicons, the noted Septua- gint, or Greek translation so much talked of, and a com- ment— woidd it were my father's ! " Alas ! his father's was the Sociiiiaii commentary, noticed in the ' Force of Truth,' as the source from which he had already imbibed so much poison. — " I began at the first chapter of Gene- 1772 — 1774.] TO HIS marriage. ^ sis, and I intend to go through the whole Bible in that man- ner. You will see the manifold advantage of thus reading the scriptures. The original text, a Greek translation two thousand years old and above, our translation, and comments, read carefully, and compared together, word by word, cannot fail to give a deep insight into the sense of the scriptures ; and the same time two languages are unitedly improving. The same I am doing in the Greek, and profane history. I am reading old Hero- dotus in the original, in Latin, and in English. For each book read, whether ancient or modern history, I have my maps laid before me, and trace each incident by the map ; and in some degree also fix the chro- nology. So that, though the languages seem my prin- cipal study, history. Geography, chronology, divinity, go hand in hand. Neither is logic neglected. I have set about that in some degree ; not the dry scholastic forms, but the useful art of tracing our judgments to their origin, and building our reasons or inferences on due foundations ; or the art of arguing justly from well-grounded principles. — In the writing way I have just now begun a very arduous task, but, I hope, not too arduous. I have fixed upon our Saviour's sermon on the mount, and have undertaken in a course of sermons to go through it. My design is to shew, that in that short discourse is comprehended every Christian virtue, every moral duty ; that it is not, as is generally apprehended, a loose set of detached maxims, but a regu- lar, consistent system of morality. What I shall make of it I know not : but I think I shall, by well consider- ing each article, comparing it with other parts of scrip- ture, and the situation of man in this world, find out many beauties, at least to me, before undiscovered. I have already found in it far more than ever I obs(*;rved r>4 PROM HIS ORDINATION [ChAF. III. belbrc, or than any autliors I have consulted have noti- ced. I will assure you the propriety oi' each sentence, the wisdom, the thorou.u;h knowledi^e of the human heart, appear to me most admii*able. — If, in going through it in the manner I ])i'opose, and have engaged to do, in a course of sermons, I should please myself and others, I shall per- haps throw the whole into some other form and commu- nicate it to the public. At least I made choice of the subject not without having some such design in view ; and my utmost care and attention shall be used, to try wheth- er I cannot make it deserving of a share of the public at- tention. '^ You now see in what manner I spend my time. I find my taste for study grow on me every day. I only fear I shall be, like the miser, too covetous. In fact, I really grudge every hour that I employ otherwise. Others go out by choice, and stiiy at home by constraint : but I ever stay at home by choice, and go out because I am persuaded it is necessary. In every other expence I am grown a miser : I take every method to save : but here I am prodigal. No cost do I in the least grudge to procure advantageous methods K)f pursuing my studies. So far is a multiplicity of studies, a diversity of pursuits, from overburdening my memory, that, by exercising it, I find it in a high degree more retentive ; as well as the comprehending faculty more quick. — Nothing can give greater satisfaction than these considerations do. I ])ro- ceed with alacrity ; I think with expidition. Of the He- brew, some twenty weeks ago I knew not a letter : and I have now read through one hundred and nineteen of the Psalms, and twenty-three chapters of Genesis ; and com- monly now read two cha})ters in the time above mention- ed, tracing every word to its original, \ui folding every verbal difliculty. — But enough : I know to \n bom I write. 1772 — 1774.] TO HIS marriage. 6S I am sensible that these thmgs will give you some plea- sure in the perusal^ and that you will overlook any spice of vanity which may appear.'' What were the writer's more mature sentiments on the view above taken of the sermon on the mount may seem in his commentary^ particularly on Matt. vii. 24 — ^27. He there remarks ; " Most certainly, the un- changeable God never meant to recommend one part of his revealed will, by disparaging another This sermon, doubtless, contains the grand outlines of Chris- tian practice, and none who, on Christian principles, ob- serve to do according to it, will come short of salvation. But Christian principles, or doctrines, must be learned from other parts of the sacred oracles." In another letter, about three months afterwards, he says : " The Giver of every good gift has made my in- terest, my pleasure, and my duty, as it were, all depend- ent on one another. My pursuits of the advantages of life, and of credit, are thrown into such a channel, that, while they form my highest gratification, they best pro- mote that more important business I am upon ; and will succeed or fail in proportion as I do my duty, and contri- bute my share towards the good of mankind." From this extract it appears, that he was not so im- mersed in his literary pursuits, as altogether to forget " that more important business," which claimed his at- tention as a parochial minister. And repeated proofs oc- cur, even from the first, of what many, at least, would esteem considerable professional diligence ; though he was as yet very much a stranger to the right means of promoting the spiritual interests of men, and to the true spring of a christian minister's activity ;* and though, in his ' Force of Truth,' he will only give himself credit, * See 2 Cor. v. 14, 15. I 66 FROM HIS ORDINATION [ChAP. 111. for hnving " attended just enough to the public duties of his station, to support a decent character/' which he deemed " subservient to his main design." Previously, however, to addiicing any of the proofs re- ferred to, we may advert to the report which he makes of tlie state of the country iiito which he had now re- moved, and, in particular, of his own parishes. It is, upon the whole, very unfavoiirable. •• The country/' he says, '^ is pleasant ; the villages large and popidous ; but the people poor,*" ignorant, and idle. Half of them have little more knowledge, save the art of lace-making, than they were born with. There are no schools any where for the poor : and they have no means of in- struction but at church, where the greater part never come. ■* — The latter clause applies especially to Stoke, the inhabitants of which parish he estimates at seven or eight hundred. — Of their religion he says, " Those that have any are almost all methodisis and fanatics, of one sort of other ; and for my part I regard them as the best portion of my parish, for any religion must be better than none." — His other parish of Weston, he thought, " afforded a better prospect,'' and appeared, " more regular and re- ligious.'' ^' The greater part, indeed, were Roman ca- tholics, i^.nd many methodists : however," he says, " they all seem to be of sotne religion, and I have my re- gular congregation as constantly as I go Taking the whole coiuitry, I think it remarkably poor and ignorant ; though within fifty miles of the metropolis of the most polished country in the world : but yet what part of the world is it, in which one meets not with sensible and agreeable people ?" * He notes Is. 6d. a clay, without meat, as the highest wattes in harvest time. 1772 — 1774.] TO HIS marriagk. 67 Such was the scene of service first assigned to my fa- ther as a clergyman, and nearly such that in which he spent the first thirteen years of his ministerial life. I now present those traces which remain of his earlier la- bours in it. From the first, the pains he took in preparation for the pulpit appear to have been exemplary. In his first let- ter from Stoke, in October, 1772, he says, " Sermons I write two a week :'' and again, half a year afterwards, ^' I have no spare time, having written full seven sermons, each thirty -five minutes long, in the three weeks since my return from London," — where he had taken priest's orders. Such diligence appears to have been a sort of elementary ingredient of his character, and certainly it gave a promise of his future success. May it not also suggest a salutary admonition to many, who, it may be hoped, ate actuated by purer principles than at that time influenced the subject of these memoirs ? Their views, be it supposed, are more elevated, but do they call forth even equal exertions ? In the same letter he laments, that, " after preaching two of the most forcible discourses in his power,'' he had been able to collect only ''' tw enty-six or twenty-seven communicants." And in another letter, of rather earlier date, he says, " Whether I shall be able to make any re- formation among my parishioners, I much doubt ; but I tell them their duty pretty freely." As we proceed forward, I trust, we find the desire of doing good gradually gathering strength. — It may be re- marked that my father quitted his residence at Stoke in November, 1773, and lodged at Weston from that time till his marriage, somewhat more than a year afterwards. — From Weston he writes, January 5, 1774, " I wonder at people thinking they cannot do good. Tlie circle that 68 FROM ms OHDINATION [ChAF. IIL I move in at present is so contracted, tliat the circumfe- rence almost touches the centre ; yet I should belie my own heart, should I say that I never had it in my power to do good. I hope (for God alone knows the heart,) that I really have been instrumental, in my calling, towards instilling better principles into the minds of some of my flock. This, at least, is my desire : from this I promise myself present satisfaction, and something in future of more consequence. Since I have got to Weston, I have made a point of reading prayers on the festivals, though I have nothing allowed for it. The parish are in great part Roman catholics, and I would not have it said, that theij have all the religion. Where the piety is rational, and free from the superstition we expressly blame, I would shew them, that we do not disregard it A very pretty congregation comes constantly to church, and I do not grudge my trouble. I would also read prayers on Wednesday and Friday ; but I might, by carrying it too far, and too hastily, do less good."' The last extract which I shall introduce, is dated a year later, at Stoke, whither he had returned on his marriage. — " Saturday evening is appropriated to catechizing the children of the parish, who come in great numbei^ for instruction. There are therefore but five other evenings, and it is a retired week indeed, if one of them be not en- gaged. Now in this time'' — the evenings, for his morn- ings were otherwise occupied — " the plan I have laid down requires me to compose or transcribe two sermons, almost constantly " Stoke is an ignorant, and for that reason a wicked place. I would wish to do something to remove both the cause and the effect. They are also as poor as they are ignorant and bad. Now, assisting their bodily wants is the best means to prepare the way for assisting their 1772 1774.] TO HIS MARRIAGE. 69 Other wants. But my station in life prevents my doing much in that on my own account. But, by means of my intimacy at Mr. Wrighte's, I am not totally destitute of opportunity. When any person is sick, I make it my business to visit him, both in my pastoral function, and as a friend, to inquire into his disorder and circumstances: which done I represent the case to Mrs. W., who has not hitherto failed to consider one so represented. This prepares the way for good advice and instruction, (which I do not withhold,) and also renders others more willing to attend to me. — A parcel of little books on various plain practical subjects had lain at Mr. W's some time. I begged to have the disposal of them, and, having given some away, I told the receivers to send any other persons to me who wished for like tracts. I soon had customers enough, and distributed a considerable number about the parish. I intend to make broad hints for some more. — Next I have undertaken to explain the catechism in a course of sermons, and also to expound it in a more summary manner to the children, who attend for this purpose ; be- ing persuaded that as much good may be done in forming the minds of youth, and instilling into them moral and religious truth, as in preaching to the more advanced in years This is the plan I have laid : and to execute it to my own satisfaction engrosses no small proportion of my time and attention. I do not suppose , when he returns, will like me the better for the care I take : but, as I do what I consider my duty, I am no ways anxious about it At the present, I am entirely satisfied with my lot, and my portion of enjoyment ; and my religion bids me not be solicitous about futurity." But we have here outstripped the regular course of events, and must return to occurrences, some, at least, of which contributed to the improvement, pretty 70 1 ROM HIS ORDINA riON [ClIAP. III. clearly indicated by this extract to have taken place in his ministerial character. In June, 1773^ he lost a sister who, by her marriage, had been placed in not a very fiivourable situation. This event a])pears to have affected him very much. He thus speaks of it in his reply to his elder sister, who had com- municated the information to liim : " To describe to you the emotions of my mind, on the receipt of your letter, the mixed passions and feelings with which reflection furnished me, would require more art than my pen possesses. A tenderness inseparable from affection arose, and over and over I read your letter, and as oft bedewed it with tears ; not of unmixed sorrow* but of a tender regret, mollified with some not unpleasing reflections : yet the damp that it has cast on my spirits, will require time and reason to dissipate it. The situa- tion in which I was placed during the younger part of my life made me, till w ithin these few years, love her the best of all my brothei^ and sisters. Neither have I ever ex- perienced a diminution of that affection : only, as my judgment increased, with it my regard for the other branches of the family wonderfully increased also. — Sin- cerely I thank you, dear sister, for what you said in re- gard to my going to see her, (when in Lincolnshire,) which flxed my wavering resolution : had I not gone, an almost incurable stab had been given to my peace.'' He expresses a purpose to take upon him the education of her younger son, to whom he was god-father. He considered this as a duty incumbent upon him. " Now it has pleased God,'' he says, " to take the only parent, who was at all likely to supersede my care, it certainly belongs to me, to see that he be instructed in those things, which I promised in his name, as soon as he is capable ef learning them.'' — Accordingly he some time after- X772^ — 1774.] TO his marriage. 71 wards received this nephew into his family ; and, scanty as his own means were, supported him, till a proper age he bound him apprentice to the business of a grocer, which he still follows in London. The next incident recorded in the narrative appears to have taken place about the same period. '* While I resided at Stoke, the brother of the person with whom I boarded, an apothecary at Olney, often cal- led ; and, finding me conversible, discussed with me a variety of subjects. Among the rest, he mentioned Mr. Newton, as a very singular character.'' — It can hardly be needful to say, that this was the Rev. John Newton, then curate of Olney, afterwards rector of St. Mary Woolnoth, London. His name stands blank (Mr. ) in the edi- tions of the ' Force of Truth' which have hitherto been published. He had been curate of Olney since his ordi- nation in 1764. — '' He gave Mr. N. full credit for blame- less and benevolent conduct, and for diligence as a minis- ter : but he was ^a methodist and an enthusiast to a very high degree.' ' I cannot,' said the apothecary, ' tell what judgment to form of his preaching ; it is like nothing which I ever heard : I wish you would come and hear him, and give me your opinion. He preaches on a Thursday evening : come and dine with me* and we will go to church together.' This was accord- ingly settled and executed. I sat fronting the pul- pit, and verily thought Mr. N. looked full on me when he came into the desk : and, when he named his text, to my great astonishment it was this. Then Saulj (who also is called Paul^J filled with the Holy Ghost , set his eyes on him^ and said, 0 full of all subtlety and all mischiefs thou child of the devil , thou eneiny of all righteousness J wilt thou not cease to pervert the right imys of the Lord! (Acts xiii. 9, 10.) As I knew that 72 FROM HIS ORDINATION. [ChAP. III. he preached extempor(\ I took it for granted that he had chosen the text purposely on my account. He observed, indeed, that ministers in the present day, not being under any immediate or infallible influence of the Holy Spirit, ought not to imitate the decided and severe language of the apostle : and he then undertook to shew what were the right ways of the Lord, and to point out the wickedness and danger of per- sisting in endeavours to pervert or oppose them. But I thought his doctrine al)struse, immaginative, and irration- al ; and his manner uncouth ; and the impression, that, though Elimas was named, I was intended, abode with me for a long time ; nor was it wholly eflfaced till I discover- ed, some years afterwards, that he was regularly expound- ing the Acts of the Apostle, and that this passage came in course that evening ; and that, in fact, he neither saw nor thought of me. The idea, however, that I was aimed at, neither alarmed nor irritated me : but, at first, served me as a subject of merriment ; and, afterwards, when I knew him better, but had not yet obtained the just expla- nation of the case, it appeared to me unaccountable. Yet, alas ! at that time, the passage w\as but too appropriate to my character and conduct. — After this I never heard Mr. N. preach, till my creed accorded with his in all the great outlines." The ' Force of Truth,' however, records somewhat in Mr. N's example, which soon after this time proved more useful to my father than his preaching, and no doubt essentially conduced to that increased diligence in pastoral duties, which we have already contemplated. <^ In January, 1774," he there states, " two of my pa- rishioners, a man and his wife, lay at the point of death. I had heard of the circumstance : but, according to my general custom, not being sent for. I took no notice of it ; 1772 1774.] TO HIS MARRIAGE. 73 till one evening, the woman being now dead, and the man dying, I heard that my neighbour, Mr. N., had been several times to visit them. Immediately my con- science reproached me with being shamefully negligent, in sitting at home, within a few doors of dying persons, my general hearers, and never going to visit them. Di- rectly it occurred to me^ that, whatever contempt I might have for Mr. N.'s doctrines, I must acknowledge his prac- tice to be more consistent with the ministerial character than my own. He must have more zeal and love for souls than I had, or he would not have walked so far to visit and supply my lack of care to those, who, as far as I was concerned, might have been left to perish in their sins. — This reflection affected me so much, that, without delay, and very earnestly, yea with tears, I besought the Lord to forgive my past neglect ; and I resolved thence- forth to be more attentive to this duty : which resolution, though at first formed in ignorant dependence on my own strength, I have, by divine grace, been enabled hitherto to keep. — I went immediately to visit the survivor : and the affecting sight of one person already dead, and ano- ther expiring in the same chamber, served more deeply to impress my serious convictions : so that from that time I have constantly visited the sick of my parishes, as far as I have had opportunity, and have endeavoured, to the best of my knowledge, to perform that essential part of a parish minister's duty.'' This occurred at Weston, where my father then re- sided ; and from a letter written at the same time it ap- pears, that the man and his wife referred to, having lived forty -four years together, were both buried at once in the same 2:rave. — We return to the narrative. " As curate of Weston Underwood I became acquaint- ed with the family of the Higgins' ; from whom I re- K 74 FROM HIS ORDINATIOX [ChAP. III. ceivcd many favours as long as I held that curacy. Bar- tholomew Higgins, Esq. senior, was the friend mention- ed in the * Force of Truth,' who induced me to read the conclusion of Bishop Burnett's Histt#y • of his Own Time. He also expressed dissatisfaction with my gene- ral do(*trine, as not sufliciently evangelical ; and he inti- mated topics on which he wished me to speak more fully. But, when afterwards Ibecame more thoroughly in ear- nest in applying evangelical truth to practical purposes, lie thought I went too far ; especially when I advanced the sentiments called Calvinistic. But this subject will again come under notice more regularly hereafter.'' This perusal of that part of Burnett's history, which relates to the clergy, was attended with important effects, which the ' Force of Truth' thus explains : '* I was considerably instructed and impressed by it : I was convinced that my entrance into the ministry had been the result of very wrong motives; was preceded by a very unsuitable preparation, and accompanied with very improper conduct. Some uneasiness was also ex- cited in my mind concerning my neglect of the impor- tant duties of that high calling ; and, though I was en- slaved of sin, and too much engaged in other studies, and in love with this present world, to relinquish my flat- tering pursuit of reputation and preferment, and to change the course of my life, studies, and employments ; yet by intervals I experienced desires and purposes, at some future period to devote myself wholly to the work of the ministry, in the maimer to which he exhorts the clergy At this time I lived without any secret re- ligion My convictions," however, " would no longer be silenced or appeased" .... and, '^ I was ena- bled to enter upon a form of devotion. F^ormal enough indeed it was in some respects, for I neither knew that 1772 — 1774.] TO HIS marriage. 75 Mediator through whom, nor that Spirit by whom, prayers are offered up with acceptance unto the Fa- ther. Yet, though utterly in the dark as to the true and living way to the throne of Grace, I am persua- ded there were even then seasons, when I was ena- bled to rise above a mere form, and to offer petitions so far spiritual as to be accepted and answered." Thus was my father's mind evidently moving, even at this time, towards that happy consummation at which it at length arrived ; and thus did a succession of ap- parently accidental circumstances conspire to advance his progress. But for the present our attention is called to another subject, thus introduced in his narrative. " All my views of advancing myself in the world seemed to require, that I should for some time, at least, live unmarried : but I had always resolved, and avowed my resolution, to marry as soon as I should have the pros- pect of maintaining a family : and no ambitious projects altered that purpose. After many merciful disappoint- ments, as I have since known them to be, I became ac- quainted with Mrs. Jane Kell — whom I first met at a christening, and won her money at cards ! She was of a family in reputable circumstances at Hexham, in Nor- thumberland :" but her father, having never profited by the vdse man's admonition. He that hateth suretyship is sure, impoverished himself to pay other men's debts ; and his daughter Jane, " having acquired competent^ skill in various departments, entered, at an early age, into the service of Lady Ann Jekyll. She was now Mrs. Wrighte's house-keeper, and had continued so long in the family, with high approbation, that she was respect- ed almost as a relative. On every conversation I had with her she rose in my esteem ; and, after rather more hesitation than was usual with me, I opened my mind to 76 FKOM HIS ORDINATION [ChAP. III. her ])y lctt<"i> which at first produced sonic rather sin- gular incidents : l)ut at length terminated in our marri- age, Dccmber 5, 1774.'' I shall here take the liberty of saying, that, though my dear mother was not found in an elevated stiition, she was, throughout life, and in all circumstances in which she ever was placed, a " help meet'' for him to whom she was united. She was one of those thoroughly pru- dent, disinterested, friendly, cheerful, and kind persons^ who conciliate the esteem of all that converse with them, whether superiors, inferiors, or equals. After all the abatements which it may be thought requisite to make in the report of an admirer, I believe there was much justice in the account which my father gave of her to his sister, Jidy 20, 1774 : -^ Whom nature has blessed with a variety of her choicest gifts, — sense, prudence, sensibility : who has had many advantages of education, has read much, and is fit to appear with credit in any compauy : who has a heart fraught with the most virtuous and generous sentiments, and has given such proofs of it, as are fully conclusive, and which, coming to my knowledge by such means as contain something of the marvellous, cannot be disputed. No woman in the world is better adapted for the management of a family." One of the proofs of generosity refered to was her de- clining my father's first proposals, though perfectly agreeable to her, because she believed the connexion would be " disadvantageous to him. This he learned directly from Mrs. Wrighte, without Mrs. Ws. being able, either previously, or at the time she told him the fact, to divine who was the person that had been refused. I possess one, and only one letter of her writing, — the first to which she subscribed her newly-acquired name : and, as it presents a glimpse of the Lincolnshire 1772 — 1774.] TO HIS marriage. 77 family, viewed, it must be confessed, under favourable circumstances, and will at least exhibit the amiable temper of the writer's mind, I shall venture to insert a part of it. " Braytoft, December 13, 1774. — My dear Mother, let me once more intreat the favour of your intercession to our heavenly Father, for the continuance of happiness to your now happy daughter. You are already informed, that Monday the fifth gave you a son and me a husband, of whose goodness I could say more than my paper will hold : so I shall cut it short, by assuring you he is every thing that I wish. My dear friend has likewise told you that we are now in Lincolnshire, and at present in the house with his worthy father and mother. What would I give for a head and a pen equal to the task of descri- bing to you this agreeable pair, and their worthy chil- dren. Indeed it is comfortable to see Mr. and Mrs. Scott set round by their sons and daughters and grand, children, all equally sensible and good. . . . They really treat me in a manner as if their son, brother, or nephew had married a person equal in fortune to his merits. God grant that I may continue deserving of their kind- ness and relationship ! . . . . Mr. and Mrs. Wrighte accom- panied me to church — though it was the first time of her being out to walk after a long and dangerous illness : and Mr. W. gave me away*. . . I am in every respect, your dutiful and affectionate daughter, J. Scott. . '' This is the first time I have made use of this res- pectable name.'' The next thing which occurs in my father's narrative, after the mention of his marriage, is a statement of his finances and prospects at the time. After some demur, I have determined to allow him unreservedly to lay this * Mr. and Mrs. W. also stood sponsors for her elder children. 78 I KOM HIS ORDINATION [ChAP. III. al5«o, and other passages of the same kind, hefore the reader, because they both ilhistrate his charaeter. and tend to enforce one of the great lessons wliich liis history suggests — the duty and safety of implicitly trusting in providence, notwithstanding a provision apparently very inadequate, while w^e devote ourselves to the duties of our station, as the servants of God. " What my wife had saved/' he says, ^' (which might have been more than double what it was, had not her liberality, especially to her aged mother^ deducted from itj) with the presents she received, purchased us sufficient furniture. My income, with Busby's Lectures once in three yeai's, amounted to nearly 60/. I had also lately been engaged by Mr. Wrighte, to teach his son the first rudiments of learning — going over to his house, at three miles distance, every day for the purpose ; for w hich he paid me 30/. a year : and I had further a good prospect of receiving a few pupils into my house, when settled. So that, taking into account the comparative cheapness of living at that time, I have seldom in subse- quent years had a fairer prospect of adequate support ; except as I have learned to trust in Him for temporal provision, as well as eternal salvation, who clothes the li- lies and feeds the bii^ds of the air : of which I at that time knew little. " The union thus formed proved to me, in all respects, an inexpressible mercy. Even at the time I had some confused sense of the goodness of God in it ; and, in a poor blind way, attempted both to thank him for it, and to purpose devoting myself to his service in the work of the ministry : though I then scarcely knew any thing of that sacred service. " So far was the step I had taken from losing me any favour with my former friends, as I had previously ap- 1772 — 1774.] TO HIS marriage. 79 prehended it might, that it seemed to raise me in their es- timation, for having, as they expressed it, the good sense to discern and vahie what was highly estimable in one situate as my wife had been : and, had no material change taken place in my religious sentiments and conduct, I am persuaded I should have met with steady encouragement in my plans. Mr. Wrighte especially, with manifest cordiality, took vigorous measures to procure me a living : and as he had, in previously disposing of some prefer- ments in his gift, obliged more than one of the superior clergy, he entertained no doubt of success. " Neither my wife nor myself had been much in the way of religious people, according to my present inter- pretation of that term ; neither of us understood the grand outlines of the gospel ; yet we were both impress- ed with a strong sense of the truth and importance of the Christian religion, in a general view of it : but her im- pressions were the deeper, and had far less, from false principles and evil habits, to counteract them. Even before we were fixed in a settled habitation, the thought seemed to occur to us both, almost at the same time, that we ought to pray together ; and accordingly I read some prayers from a book : and when, with a female servant, we entered on a temporary dwelling of our own, I im- mediately began family worship, though I had never lived in any family where it was practised, nor even been present at such a service, except once, which was in the house of a dissenting minister*. " At first I only used a form of praeyr from a manual belonging to my wife. After a little time I read a chap- ter of the Bible before the prayer : and, as my views of religion gradually improved, I aimed at something more * « The Rev. Mr. Bull, of Newport Pagnell." 80 I ItOM HIS ORDINATION [ClIAP. III. evangelical, and exchanged my manual for Jenk's Devo- tions. But. had I duly considered the sid)iect, the Com- mon Prayer Book oi'our church, with a little arrangement, would have supplied me with far more suitalde words, than any book of the kind I had then seen, or have ever yet seen. Merely, indeed, to read the common prayer, as appointed for public woi^hip, must, in general, be both inadequate, inappropriate, and in many things su- perfluous, to a family : but a selection of collects, parts of collects, and extracts from the Litany, varied as circum- stances should require, I am now fully convinced, might be rendered, in all respects, preferable to any other forms which have been published. " I afterwards wrote, on particular occasions, such prayers as I thought proper to be added to the form : and, at length, I was gradually led to adopt the method of extemporary prayer, which 1 judged, and do still judge, far better for domestic worship, than any forms can be ; both as admitting of adaj)tation to the varying circumstances of families, and the cases of friends and re- latives, to be remembered in our prayers : and also as giving scope to more enlargement in intercession according to occurring events, for all sorts and conditions of men. By degrees also I proceeded to expound, as well as read the scriptures to my family. " From this beginning, I do not know that, during more than thirty eight years, the daily worship of God in my family, morning and evening, has ever been inter- rupted, except when I was ill, or from home : and, in- deed, when that has been the case, some one of my house- hold has generally su])plied my place. " On this I look back with peculiar gi'atit\ule, as one grand means of my uncommon measure of domestic com- fort, and of bringing down on my children the blessings 1772 1774.] TO HIS MARRIAGE. 81 which God has graciously bestowed upon them. And, though the time which I have allotted to this service has been, for many years, far longer than is generally deem- ed sufficient or expedient, yet, by a punctual observance 0f an appointed hour, and the adjustment of domestic af- fairs to the plan, as known and invariable, no inconvenience worthy of notice has resulted from it. Nor have I, as many complain in excuse for great brevity, found my do- mestics in general shew symptoms of weariness and in- attention.— My evening worship is much shorther than that of the morning ; and for many years past it has taken place, in all ordinary cases, at a pretty early hour ; which, where it can be practised, appears much prefera- ble.— In numerous instances I have had visitants, espe- cially relatives, to whom I clearly perceived that my fa- mily worship was disagreeable ; and some who would not so much as by a change of posture profess to join in our prayers : but I never once omitted the service, or altered the method of it, on that account ; and in some cases the parties have been softened into a more cordial concurrence with us.'' My dear father having here dwelt at some length on one of the most remarkable features of his domestic eco- nomy, it may be advisable to despatch the subject, in what would otherwise have been a premature place for its introduction. I apprehend no reflecting person can have enjoyed the advantage of being repeatedly present at his morning family worship, without being forcibly struck with it. His expositions on these occasions fre- frequently rose above what any written comment can be expected to reach, in copiousness, minute application, spirit, and often elevation of thought. Many times I have wished that his picture could have been taken while he was expounding to his family. I have never seea liis L 82 FROM HIS ORUINATIOX. [ChAP. III. soul more thrown into his couuntcnance than on these oc- casions.— Every topic, ahnost, of doctrine or duty here came successively under review, as he passed through the scriptures, particularly the New Testament, in order ; ahd the very familiarity with which they were illustrat- ed, and brought down to all the occurrences of life, made the exposition doubly interesting and useful. To what passed here, I am disposed especially to attribute it? that not a servant could spend any time in his family, and attf-nd to what was delivered, without becoming better informed in Christian doctrine, and better instructed in the detail of the duties and proprieties of life, than religious persons in a much superoir station are usually found to be. — And then the prayer, which followed, was certain- ly one of the finest specimens of " supplication, interces- sion, thanksgiving" for those present and for ^^all men^" ■ that can be conceived. Such enlargement, both as to the subjects and the matter of the petitions, I have not elsewhere heard. The scripture, which had been read and commented upon, usually gave the direction to the former part of this act of devotion : and here he had by habit and meditation, and by entering at the time into the spirit of the passage, acquired a readiness in seizing every part of it in all its bearings^ and turning it into matter of supplication, which brought it again under re- view in the most edifying manner. Whatever was pecu- liar in thfe circumstances of any persons present, was th^n brought before " the throne of the heavenly grace,^^ in a manner which shewed at once the piety, the wisdom^ aild the benevolence of him who led the service, and often proved afiecting, never, I think, painful to the parties concerned. From those present, and all the branches of the family, with their immediate connections and friends^ he launched forth to his parishioner^ and people ; to tlic 177^'— J774.] TO HIS MARRIAGE. 8S various congregations and divisions of ^^ Christ's holy catholic church ;'' to all " the ministers of God's holy word an4 sacraments/' and all " seminaries of learn- ing and religious education ;'' to his country and all or- 4er5 of men in church and state, — specially all those ^' who in this transitory life, are in trouble, sorrow? need, sickness, or any other adversity ;" to the surrounding na- tions, with particular reference to passing events ; to th^ extension of Christ's kingdom in the world ; to the ^tat^ X)f Jews, heathens, and Mohammedans; to all the various exertions now making to instruct the ignorant, to reclaim the vicious, to relieve the oppressed, and to bring on those happy days, when '' the knowledge of the Lord shall fill the earth as the waters covers the seas ;" and so for ^^the whole world of mankind." His petitions relative to these, and almost every other topic that could be named, were often most appropriate and striking, — while he im- plored and pleaded for the raising up in all nations of " kings that should resemble David, and Hezekiah, and Josiah, and prove reformers of their people, as well as nursing fathers of the church ; for governors, in all the distinct provinces of our own and other empires, disin- terested, zealous, and unimpeachable, like Daniel and Nehemiah ; for bishops, throughout the church, like Ti- mothy and Titus." — -Indeed the subject of his remarka- ble spirit of intercessory prayer must hereafter be again adverted to. Here, therefore, I would conclude with re- marking upon the whole, that to his constant and edify- ing observance of family worship, in connection with the steady, consistent spirit and conduct, which, notwith- standing imperfections incident to human nature, they could not Ml to remark in him, is, I am persuaded, very much to be traced, not only the blessing of God which, I trust, has descended on his own family, but the further 84 FROM HIS ORDINATION, 6ni. [ChAP. 111. Striking and important fact, — that in very few instancse has a servant, or a young person, or indeed any person, passed any length of time under his roof, without appear- ing to be brought permanently under the influence of re- ligious principle. I consider him as having been singu- larly blessed in this respect. And yet it was not much his practice to address himself closely and minutely, as some have done with very good effect, to such persons individually. It was not so much by preaching directly to them, as by living before them ; making an edifying use of incidents and occasions ; and being so constantly instructive, devout, and benevolent in family worship ; that, under the blessing of God, he produced so striking an impression upon them. This added tenfold force to whatener else they heard from him in his public minis- trations. 1772 1774,] CHANGE OF RELIGIOUS VIEWS,. 85 CHAPTER IV. THE GREAT CHANGE OF HIS RELIGIOUS VIEWS. a Within a few months after my marriage, I was led unexpectedly to exchange my curacy of Stoke for that of Ravenstone, the next village. This was done at the in- stance of the vicar of the latter place, the Rev. Mr. Chap- man, an unmarried man, seventy years of age. He had hitherto kept no curate, but had occasionally applied to me for assistance : and now, as he wished to engage one, and I was at this time reputable, and not suspected of ^ methodism,' he offered me his curacy, with a salary of 40/. a year ; 151. more than I received for Stoke. The reason of his change of plan was unknown to me at the time ; but I afterwards fouijd it to be a very considera- ble accession of fortune, which had come to him in rather a singular manner. A distant relation, a retail grocer in London, had, by saving habits, amassed about 12,000/. On the approach of death, he sent for Mr. Charles Hig- gins, (one of the Weston family, and afterwards sherriff of London,) the head partner in the wholesale house with which he had dealt, and proposed to leave the whole to him. Mr. H., being a man of much generosity of mind, resolutely refused to accept it : and urged that it ought to go to the relations, however distant. The man, how ever, declared that he would die intestate, if Mr. H. would not become his heir : and he kept his word. In Hb CHANGE OF HIS [ChAP. iV, consequence, after engaging in some litigation, and buy- ing off' some individuals who might have been trouble- some, the vicar of Ravenstone, with his»sister, a maiden lady, still more advanced in age, who lived with him, inherited the whole property. On the proposition which hi made to me, all advance of salary at Stoke being de- clined, I became his curate." My father removed to Ravenstone soon after midsum- mer, 1773 ; but this was previously to his becoming curate of the parish. '' At this place," he says, '' I resided about two years, and it proved, as it were, a Bethel^ to me. Here I read the scriptures and prayed. Here I sought and, I trust, found, in a considerable measure, the knowledge of the truth as it is in Jesus. I was not indeed brought to say with unwavering voice, as Thomas did of old, M^ Lordy and my God ; but I learned to count all but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ. Here first I made the instrument of bringing several persons earnestly to ask the all- important question. What must I do to be saved? and here I learned, in some degree, tO give the scriptural a^swer, Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shall be saved. ^^ Alluding to this period, he observed in a sermon preached at Aston, June 25, 1818, of whjch the Rev. Daniel Wilson has preserved and printed some memoran- dums : ^* It is above forty years since God of his mercy brought down my stubborn heart to true repentance. The first sermon I preached afterwards was from Gal. \i. 22, But the Scripture hath concluded all under sin, that the promise by faith of Jesus Christ might be given to them that believe. This very discourse was the means * Gen. xxviii. 1775-^17'76.] RELIGIOUS viiTWs. ^7 of bringing some of my people to feel their danger, and to come to me saying, What shall I do to be saved ? when I hardly knew how to answer the question. Begin, my brethren, and continue in the same way. Shew the people that they are concluded under sin. Tell them plainly of their lost condition. Till they feel this, no- thing is done. Then Exhibit to them the promise by faith of Jesus Christ : this will heal the broken heart." He proceeds : ^^ I did not however, in my own case, enter so deeply into the practical use of the truths to which I acceded, as might have been expected ; but, in many things which I have since considered as wholly in- defensible, I conformed to the world, and, by so doing, was, in great measure, sheltered from scorn and reproach. But in these things the narrative in the ' Force of Truth,^ from April, 1775, to about the same period of 1777, must be referred to. " Here likewise my two eldest children were born : Anne, who died at the age of four years and a half, and of whom further notice will be hereafter taken ; and John, still living.'' Soon after his removal to Ravenstone, we find him thus anticipating the death of another married sister. ^^ Though I was somewhat concerned for you, yet this was all absorbed in the concern I have always felt on my poor sister Gibbon's account, whenever I have thought of her since I received your letter. I can never reflect on her fate, and the cause of it, without the most feeling anx- iety. I have long thought of writing to her, but have been hindered by the supposition of my letter finding her departed from this troublesome scene. . . . May the Almighty supply her with a plentiful portion of his graee, 102 CHANGE OF HIS [ChAP.IV. enougli, so long us I leave any thing undone, which it was in my power to do, towards the growth of riiigions know- ledge and virtuous practice. — We are to live at tlie altar : but a living, a bare decent maintenance, without any avaricious or ambitious views of advancing ourselves or our families, or hankering after indulgences, should con- tent us." — I must be pardoned if I cannot contemplate with mere calm approbation sentences like these, not artfully arranged * to serve an occasion,' but whispered, in sincerity of heart, where, as we have already seen, they were not likely to be received with approbation, and where there was no prospect of their ever emerging to public notice : — sentences, too, accompanied with unquestionable marks of sobriety of mind and deli- berate judgment : expressive of a severe sacrifice then actually taking place ; and conveying sentiments which, after some further fluctuations and delays, eventually go- verned the whole future life of their author. Surely there is something in them wliich bespeaks even the Christian hero. The occasion, indeed, whi( h first call- ed these principles into action, was, as he soon afterwards found, a fundamental misconception of Christian truths ; but the principles themselves were noble. — From my fa- ther's conduct at this crisis, Mr. Newton argued well of him : but it would be a very small ])art of what is now before us, that could be submitted to Mr. N."s observa- tion. Had he known all that passed, he might well have anticipated all that followed. The comparative poverty in which my father spent his days has been lamented : and on some grounds it might justly be so : but, had his lot had been materially different, is it not manifest that sentiments like the above, 1775 — 1777. ]" RELIGIOUS views. 103 which pervade his future writings, would in his mouth have lost more than half their force ? One further remark suggests itself. No one I should conceive can doubt, especially when these letters are viewed in connexion with what subsequently took place, that the writer of them was, at the time, praying to God in an acceptable manner, as well as profitably reading the scriptures. The right use of prayer — making God our refuge in time of need — is apparent in them ; and the genuine effect of true prayer follows, which is composure of mind in committing events to God, while we keep the path of duty. And this falls in with a persuasion which my father always entertained, and which has in effect been already quoted from the ' Force of Truth,' that he prayed spiritually, and consequently with acceptance, even while, to a considerable degree, involved in Soci- nian errors. No doubt, in such a case, he was assisted by a spirit which he did not confess, and accepted through a Mediator, of whom, as yet, he had little explicit know-- ledge. But then, let it be observed, he was at this time no stationary and self-satisfied Socinian : he was now a sincere and earnest enquirer after truth : he desired " to know," in order that he might ^'^ do, the will of God:'^ he had already received that impulse, which was ere long to carry him far off from the Socinian ground. And ac- cordingly the very next paragraph, in the ' Force of Truth,' to those which are quoted as an introduction to the above letters, informs us, that the result of his great mental conflict was, to bring him " to this important de- termination : not so to believe what any man said, as to take it upon his authority ; but to search the word of God with this single intention, to discover whether the Arti- cles of the Church of England, in general, and the Atha- nasian creed in particidar, were or were not agreeable to 104 CIIANOE OF HIS [ChAP. IV. the scriptures.'* And hence may be dated that deep practical study of the oracles of God, with constant ear- nest prayer for divine teaching ; and that entire change of sentiments and of character, resulting from it ; which the * Force of Truth' describes. — I cherish, not with a superstitious, yet certainly with a sort of reverent and grateful regard, a fragment of that Greek Testament in which, in the course of these inquiries, my father read and deeply meditated upon every part of that volume of revelation ; spending usually, as I have heard him say, during that one perusal, three hours upon every chapter: frequently, when the weather would permit, passing this time in the park of Weston Underwood, which has been subsequently immortalized in the writings of Cowper. Before we return to the narrative, I shall here intro- duce one more extract of a letter, shewing his views of some important doctrinal points. Though it appears from the ' Force of Truth,' that he was not established in the orthodox faith concerning the Trinity till the lat- ter part of the year 1777, yet he wrote as follows upon some topics, apparently connected with it, as early as December 30, 1775. ^^ I think my father's books lead him into errors of considerable consequence : but, though I wish, and pray to God to set him right, yet I seem very unwilling to ofi'er myself as an instrument. The error I mean in chief is, the supposition that man wanted an in- structor, more than a Saviour : or, in other words, that the merits of Christ were not so necessary to obtain re- mission of sins, at his i7istruction was to teach us the way of righteonsness. But this is contrary to scripture. Man, every man, is there represented a sinner, as in bon- dage to sin and the devil, and as wanting i^edemption from them ; as liable to punishment, and wanting salva- tion from it ; as weak and frail, and wanting the di- 1775 — 1777.] RELIGIOUS views. 105 vine assistance. For all these purposes Jesus came. He is therefore our Redeemer, our Saviour, as well as our Instructor ; and on him, by faith, we should rely for for- giveness, for effectual assistance in obeying his precepts, and for the acceptance of our imperfect obedience.'^ We now return to his narrative. '^During part of the time that I resided at Ravenstone, 1 daily attended Mr. Wrighte's son : but, in proportion as I became more decidedly attentive to religion, my company was less agreeable ; and, some difference arising about the man- agement of an indulged child, I was dismissed from this employment. For some time afterwards, I lived on terms of civility with the family : but, on my decidedly adopt- ing and avowing my present religious sentiments, this connection was, as nearly as possible, dissolved. Thus all my flattering prospects from that quarter terminated. But it is better to trust in the Lord, than to put any confidence in princes, ^^ — The young man who had been my father's pupil, lost his life about the time that he came of age, in a melancholy manner, on which occasion, my father says, " I wrote to Mr. W. in the most; consoling, sympathizing manner I possibly could, introducing a few intimations of a religious nature ; hoping that on so pathe- tic an occasion his answer might have made way for some- thing further : but no answer was returned.'' He proceeds : " Some part of that time also, I had two young relations from London under my care. I suc- ceeded sufficiently well in bringing them forward in their studies, but I failed of gaining their attachment ; and I became convinced, that I did not possess that patience, meekness, and self-command, which the instruction of youth, especially of indulged children, requires : and, having learned, probably better than I had any other good lesson, to trust in the providence of God for tern- 0 106 CHANGE OF HIS [ChAP. IV. poral subsistence, while I attended to the duties of my station ; and, finding that I had, in my peculiar circum- >tances, quite sufficient employment, in learning and teaching religion ; I deliberately gave up this part ot* my plan, resolving to undertake nothing more in the way of tuition, at least for the present. This being deter- mined, I solemnly vowed before God, never more to en- gage in any pui^uit, study, or publication, which should not be evidently subservient to my ministerial usefulness, or, generally, to the propagation of genuine Christianity. In some respects, perhaps, my notions on these subjects were too contracted : but I rejoice, and am thankful, that I have hitherto performed this vow.'' On this subject the following paragraph occurs in the '•' Force of Truth.' " About this time" — the latter part of the year 1776 — «•' after many delays^ I complied with the admonitions of my conscience, and disengaged my- self from all other employments, with a solemn resolu- tion to leave all my temporal concerns in the hands of the Lord, and entirely to devote myself to the work of the ministry. Being thus become master of all my time, I dropped every other study, and turned the whole cur- rent of my reflections and inquires into another channel ; and for several years I scarcely opened a book which treated of any thing besides religion.'' The purpose here described, so solemnly formed, so faithfully kept, and eventually productive of such impor- tant results, nuist certainly be noticed as a very observa- ble point in my fathers history. The proceeding was still characteristic ; shewing his usual determination of mind. Circumstances also, as he implies, might peculiar- ly call for it in his case : and, now that we have seen the event, w^e cannot help regarding it, as one of those steps which was to lead to the accomplishment of the special 1775 — 1777.] RELIGIOUS views. 107 work J that divine providence designed him to perform. Considering likewise the ambitious views which had in- fluenced his entering into orders, and many of his sub- sequent exertions, and the deliberate sacrifice of those views which was made by the resolution now before us, we can hardly avoid looking upon it, as marking a mind just arrived at that point of its Christian progress, at which, " after many delays,'' many hesitations, and mis- givings, and conflicts, and fears, perhaps, for the conse- quences, it is at length brought "to count all but loss for Christ,'' — " finds the pearl of great price, and goes and sells all that it may buy it." Independently, however, of any thing peculiar to the present case, is not one compelled to exclaim. Blessed is that servant, called by his Lord to the work of the min- istry, who thus " gives himself wholly thereto !"* His " profiting shall be known unto all men :" his " labour shall not be in vain in the Lord :" he shall be " blessed in his deed." Alas ! in this especially we fail, I fear, of imitating the primitive ministers of the gospel. And are not we, of the present generation, here in danger of falling short of our fathers ; of men who have been called to their reward even in our own time ? Are we not eften distracted by various studies, various pursuits^ which pertain to the present life, instead of wholly given to the work of the Lord ? Is it not from this, among other causes, that we are so liable to be ministers, indeed, in the pulpit, but, at the best, only ordinary Christians every where else Pf While I venture to suggest these enquiries, prompted, alas ! in great measure by my own feelings, and my own * *£•' Toj/To/c /crS-/. 1 Tim. iv. 15. t See the admirable remarks on the Christian Ministry in Mr. Cecil's Remains. ^ 108 CHANGE OF HIS [ChAP. IV. consciousness, I would not forget the limiUitiou which tlio subject of these memoirs himself puts upon what has given occasion to them. He observes, " In some respects, per- haps, my notions on these subjects were (then) too con- tracted." And accordingly I would add, that, though ^' for several yeai's he scarcely opened a book wliich treated of any thing besides religion," this by no means continued to be the case, when his mind was made up, and well stored with information, upon theological ques- tions. On the contrary, his reading then became as va- rious as he had the opportunity of making it. No book, which famished knowledge that might be turned to ac- count, was uninteresting to him.* It was his sentiment, that every student should be as excursive in his research- es, as his particular calling would permit him to be ; but that every one should have, so to speak, " a hive" to which to bring home his collected stores ; should make all his acquisitions bear upon some useful object. So far from undervaluing solid learning of any kind, he esteem- ed it more and more highly, to the end of life ; and ear- nestly pressed young men to acquire it, that they might consecrate it to the service of God. He longed to see other branches of literature rendered subservient to reli- gion ; and thought that, while too much, perhaps, was published directly upon theological subjects, there was a lamentable deficiency of literary works conducted upon sound Christian principles. * As examples, I would mention, that, when Mr. H. Thornton's work on Paper Credit came out, he read it repeatedly with great satisfaction ; having in some measure been prepared for the subject by his former study of Locke's ' Treatise on Money,' 8cc. At a much later period also he felt himself deeply interest- ed in reading the Greek tragedians, and other classic authors., with his pupils. 1775 — 1777.] RELIGIOUS views. 109 I may here introduce another remarkable letter, shew- ing the progress of his doctrinal views at this time. It is addressed to his younger sister, and dated December 30, 1776. I should have supposed it written after he had become acquainted with Hooker's works, had he not in the ' Force of Truth' so expressly referred his introduc- tion to that great writer to the following month, January 1777. One expression in the letter certainly seems to imply that he had met with, at least, an important quotation from Hooker. — It should be borne in mind, that in this and other letters, when he uses the term me- thodistj it is with the same limitation as in the ' Force of Truth :' it means neither the followers of Mr. Wesley^ nor of Mr. Whitfield, to whom it was first applied, and by whom it has been more or less recognized ; but chief- ly those persons, within the pale of the established church, who have incurred it, as a term of reproach, by a close adherence to the real doctrines (as they apprehend them to be, ) of the reformation, and a conduct corresponding with their principles.*^ The letter is as follows : " I told my brother I would give him my senti- ments on some subjects he mentioned, in my letter to you. The first was the Methodists. And here I shall not begin to rail at them, or condemn them, and their doctrines and principles altogether : nor yet shall I ac- quit, or extol them, in the gross. Their doctrines are the doctrines of scripture, by the help of a warm imagination, run into extremes ; which, pushed forward by the same helps, may be represented as little better than madness, and as destructive of all practical religion. — Their doctrines are, 1. Justification by faith alone : and in this matter they are evidently in the right, as every * See note at the end of the first part of the « Force of Truth/ no CHANGE OP HIS [ChAP. IV. man who reads the scripture must see. The doctrine, as I view it, stands thus : All men are actual sinners : No sinner can justify himself before God : If then he be jus- tified, it cannot be by his own works, but by God'S mercy and favour : And this mercy and favour are given to none but believers. At the same time, even our best performances have so much of imperfection in them, our fruit of holiness is unsound*, that, before a holy God, even our best actions cannot justify themselves; much less atone for our mani- fold sins, or deserve any reward or an eternal reward. Therefore our justification is not, in any sense or degree, attributed to our works, because they have no inherent merit, or acceptableness, in them, save as God doth mer- cifully condescend to accept them at the hands of believ- ers. Therefore we are justified before God by faith : but then it is such a faith as worketh by love, love of God and man ; bringeth the believer under the influence of the Holy Spirit : and the fruit of that Spirit is in all good'nessy and righteousness^ and truth. If faith do not this, it is so far from justifying any person, that it cannot justify itself: it is dead, inactive, unfruitful. Thus the necessity of good works is effectually secured ; for without them there is no justification. And yet we are not justified by them, but by that faith which produ- ces them. Read St. Paul's epistles, and St. James's, carefully, without any comment, and object to the doc- trine if you can. The methodists therefore are to blame in this alone, that they do not guard their doctrine as St. Paul has done, but use such expressions in discoursing of it, as may be interpreted so, as utterly to destroy all * " The little fruit which we have in holiness, it is, God know- eth, corrupt and unsound.'* Hooker, of Justification. 1775 — 1777.] RELIGIOUS views. Ill good and evil ; and dwell on these passages in such wise, as to negleet and undervalue those other passages which so plainly declare, that the design of the gospel is, to make us holy here, that we may be capable of being hap- py hereafter. See Tit. ii. 11, &c. — But then the minis- ters of other principles are at least equally to blame for so much neglecting to study the scriptures, and to explain these doctrines in their true sense ; thereby giving inju- dicious people an occasion of perverting them. — In short, we are to be justified by our faith, which alone can render sinners partakers of the grace and mercy of the gospel : at the same time, we and our faith also must be judged according to our works : and, if our faith have not produced the fruits of righteousness, it will be condemned as dead and unfruitful, and we both as sinners and unbelievers. — 2, The methodists preach the impu- ted righteousness of Christ : which too is a scripture doctrine, as I think. Christ became sin for us, though he knew no sin, that we might be made the righteous- ness of God in him, says St. Paul. But I will leave you to examine it, unless you desire me to be more full, and only lay down my system of it. We all by nature had interest in Adam, and were condemned in or by his condemnation, for his disobedience, unto temporal death. (This certainly we all suiFered on account of Adam's sin, who thereby became mortal, and propagated a mortal progeny ; though all other consequences were best at- tributed to each person's actual transgressions.) — Even so we all may spiritually, being by faith united unto him, as branches of the true vine, have interest in Christ, and be justified in his justification, for his perfect obedience, unto eternal life. See Rom. v, vi. — I am persuaded, if you carefully examine, you will find this not only St. Paul's doctrine, but, in general, the doctrine of the New 112 CHANGE OF HIS [ChAP. IV . Testament. The only fault the methodists commit is, in laying so much stress on this, as to derogate from the necessity of pei-sonal righteousness, or holiness. And here indeed they are very unscriptural ; for nothing can be ])lainer than that, if any man be by faith united unto Christ, that union will assuredly make him bring forth much fruit : (see John xv.) and that nothing can more effectually dissolve that mystical union, than a wicked and immoral life. — 3. The methodists attribute all to the Grace of God's Holy Spirit, even faith itself: and so do the scriptures. And yet in this they are more ex- ceptionable than in any other point ; because they there- by totally and avowedly overthrow our agency, and turn us into machines, and render God a respector of persons, and indeed what I do not choose to say*. In short, to every Christian God hath promised his Holy Spirit, if he sues for it, and is more ready to give than we to pray ; and doth, in the sinners conversion, prevent his prayers : but we may resist, grieve, quench, do despite unto this Holy Spirit I say nothing of their notions of election, predestination, assurance of the elect, and others, which are all implied, as far as doctrin- alt? in what I have said ; though as mere speculative no- tions they are not ; and are too abstruse, and unimpor- tant, and perplexing, to be worth treating of. — The doc- trines of regeneration, or the new birth, and original sin, and free grace, are all more or less scriptural : but un- der such interpreters are generally carried much beyond * It need not be said what his own subsequent opinion was ol these charges. They fall under the censure implied in the first sentence of this letter, concerning the doctrines of " the method- ists." ^ Query : firactical .'' 1775 — 1777,] RELIGIOUS views. 113 the truths and degenerate into fiinaticism, and partake of their other notions. . . .'' The birth of my father's two eldest chddren, at Ra- venstone, has been ah^eady mentioned. Perhaps I shall be excused^ if, for the sake of introducing a characteris- tic paragraph, I bring myself a little more distinctly into notice. The next letter to his sister, dated April 15, 1777, contains the following passage : " As to my boy, he is already dedicated to the minis- try, if it please God to spare his life, and mine, and to give him a head and heart meet for so sacred and impor- tant a function. Should he be defective in either one or the other, he shall be any thing or nothing rather than that. Bad ministers we have enough, and much more than enough : but good ones are a sort of black swans, mighty great rarities. — It was with this intent that I wished the child to be a boy ; and with this intent I shall, God willing, always educate him : and, if he lives to be a pious, faithful, able, and useful minister of the gospel, I ask no higher preferment for him, than I now have mv- self : so contented am I with my own lot, and so totally indifferent about these lesser matters. ^^ " At this time,'' my father proceeds in his memoir, '' I had not the most distant prospect of preferment ; my expectation of adding to my scanty income by pupils was terminated ; and, considering the character of my vicar, and the determined opposition of my former rector, I had little prospect of retaining my curacy. Yet, with an increasing family, I seldom felt any anxiety about a provision : and my wife, who had married with differ- ent prospects, fully concurred with me. She would say, • Only act according to the dictates af your own con- science ; we shall doubtles be provided for :' yet^ when P 114 CHANGE OF HIS RELHilOUS VIEAVh. [CUAP. IV. she saw. as she frequently did. that my eager spirit and violent temper were hui'rying me into wrong measures, she unilbrndy checked me : and, though often not till af- ter much opposition on my part, she always carried her point with me ; to my unspeakable benefit. " After I had written my sermons for the Sunday, I, for a long time, constantly read them to her before they were preached : and, at her instance, I altered many things, especially in exchanging words, unintelligible to labourei^ and lace-makers, for simpler language. This induced a habit of familiar speaking in the pulpit, which has since been censured, probably with justice, as too col- loquial.'' It may here be added, that my fathers practice of ex- temporary preaching commenced from these private re- hearsals of his sermons before they were preached. Something had occurred in the parish to which he thought it right to allude in the pulpit : but, on his reciting to my mother the sermon which he had prepared, she ob- jected to it, and brouglit him over to her opinion. He in consequciiice laid aside the discourse, and was thus, on the Saturday evening, left without one for the next day. This induced him to address his congregation without written preparation ; and, succeeding in the attempt, he I'cpeated it, and by degrees discontinued the use of writ- ten sermons. This change, however, was not made with- out severe effort. An old parishioner at Weston (lately deceased.) mentioned well remembering his sitting down in a kind of despair, and exclaiming, * It does not signify, it is impossible that I should ever be able to preach ex tempore.' 1777 1779.] PUBLICATION OFTHEFORCEOFTRUTH. 115 4^ CHAPTER V. TO THE PERIOD OF THE PUBLICATION OF THE FORCE OF TRUTH. " In the spring, 1777, I removed to Weston Under- wood, to a house afterwards well known, under the name of the Lodge, as the residence of the poet Cowper. The ground intended for the garden, when I came to it, more resembled a stone-quarry : but by my personal labour it was brought into order, and several fine fruit- trees, now ' | growing in it, w^ere of my planting. " In August following my father died. He seemed to be well satisfied at my becoming a clergyman : but my new views of the doctrines of Christianity did not meet his approbation. In answer to what I had written on this subject, I received a letter very hostile to my sentiments, and full of Socinian principles. This greatly affected me, and I wrote an answer with many tears and prayers : but he never saw it, as he was dying when it arrived. On receiving information of his sickness, I set off imme- diately to visit him, but I did not reach his house (distant more than a hundred miles,) till after his funeral. " Every circumstance, on this mournful occasion, con- curred to depress my spirits ; and I appeared so dejected and melancholy among my relations, and my former neighbours, who had always before been pleased with my -%^ 116 AT WESTOX UNDKRWOOD 111.1. rilL [CllAP. V. chcci'fiilncss, (tliongli alas ! it was in great measure as- sumed and affected.) that my reli,^ious principles bore the blame, and their prejudices against them were much incj*eased.'' In a letter dated April 15th of this year, he had tlius adverted to his lather's religious sentiments. '^ I am gi'ieved whenever I think of some notions my lather used to hold, which are so directly contrary to true Christian doctrine, and grounded on self-dependence, which most assuredly is destructive of the whole scheme of justifica- tion through Christ. He has given me permission to write on these subjects ; and I have written several let- tei's already, which must I think convince him, that man has no ground to hope for acceptance with God on his own occount, or through his own poor deservings. It is amazing to consider what havoc this self-dependence makes among the Christian duties. Gratitude for abun- dant mercies received, and praise and thanksgiving in con- sequence ; prayer to God for forgi\ eness, for assistance, and for acceptance ; in short, every part of piety and the love of God suffers exceedingly from these notions : and so doth humility, which is of all others the most needful to our acceptance with God, w-ho rcsistcth theproud^ and givcth his grace unto the humble. Indeed I cannot con- ceive that a man can become a Christian, who does not feel that he is a ])Oor lost sinner, that has no hope but from God's mercy in Christ. My brothei;, I am of opi- nion, disapproves this way of writing : but I do it, I am sure, from the best of motives, and would rather convince my father of his errors in this respect, than acquire a very large sum of money — aye, than obtain any worldly ad- \antage whatsoever. '' In the same letter he thus notices his approaching re- juoval to Weston : "\ have scarcely room to tell vou. 1777 1779. ]PUBLlCAtlON OF THE FORCE OF TRUTH. 117 that we are to remove to Weston^ to a line lioiise^ lit for a squire, and other people are to pay the rent. This (obtaining of a house at Weston) I heartily thank God for, as I am placed in a neighbourhood where every body vies in kindness to me ; and where I have the pleasing- prospect of doing much good. Assure yourself, dear sister, that God will raise up friends, and provide for all who trust in him, and serve him.^' The death of his mother took place the 28th of Octo- ber following. The event appears to have come upon him unexpectedly. He was to have received a visit from her, which he had hoped might promote her spiritual in- terests, but she was not able to undertake the journey ; and it seems not to have been till the 29th of October, (the day after her decease,) that he was apprized of her danger, or had the opportunity of writing to her on the subject. In a letter to his elder sister of that date, en- closing one to his mother, he says : " God knows my iieart, I have no sentiments respecting either you or her, or any of the family, but those of love and affection, and am exceedingly sorry that my undesigned negligence" (he had written a letter which had slipped behind his bureau, and was never sent,) '' should cause any uneasi- ness to one, to whom I wish most sincerely every possi- ble good, and whom I most heartily pray to God to bless with every blessing here and hereafter Though I sincerelv wish every branch of the fa mil v may contend, who shall shew our common and only remaiiiing parent the most tenderness and attention, yet I would not have it such a contest as to disturb, in the least, that mutual love and harmony, which I wish, and sha.ll ever endea- vour to preserve amongst ourselves." About the time of my father's remo\'al to Weston, his intercourse with Mr- Newton, which had been almost 118 AT WKSTOX UNDERWOOD TILL THK [ChAP. V. wijolly broken ofT since the termination of their corres- pondence in Deceml)er 1775, was renewed. Under dis- couraging circnmstances,"' he tells us in the • Foixie of Truth.' he •• had occasion to call upon Mr. N., and was so comforted and edified hy his discourse, that his heart, being by this means relieved of its burden, became sus- ceptible of afiection for him. From that time/' he says, *• 1 was inwardly pleased to have him for my friend ; though not, as now, rejoiced to call him so.'' The narrative proceeds : " About 170/. eventually came to me by my father's death ; which, by annual small deductions beyond the interest, was gradually ex- htinsted. I had indeed, at that time, to struggle with many difiiculties ; but I met with unexpected helps, and still kept up my credit, though not free from debt. *'• 1 had frequent attacks of sickness: and, after one lono; and dangerous illness, which had occasioned heavy additional ex])ences, my wife, who was seldom disposed to distrust providence, lamented to me the increase of our debts, as the medical charges amounted to above 10/. It was my tnrn. on this occasion, to be the stronger in faith ; and I answered confidently, ' Now observe if the Lord do not, in some way, send us an additional supply to meet this expence, which it was not in our power to avoid.' I had. at the time, no idea of any source from which this additional supply was to be derived : but, in the afternoon of the same day, when I was visiting my people, Mr. Higgins, jun. called at my house and left a paper, which he said, when I had filled u]) the blanks, would intitle me to 10/. from a sum of money left for the relief of poor clergymen. This I never received at any other time, nor can 1 recollect the source from which it rame." The remarks v lijch I would make upon this incident I 777 1779.] PUBLICATION OFTHE FORCE OF TRUTH. 119 are the following : That^ whatever may be thought of it, the fact no doubt happened as here related : that my fa- ther was by no means disposed to expect extraordinary interpositions of providence^ or to make a display of them when they appeared to take place : that it is by no means uncommon for good men, of the most sober minds, circumstanced as he was, to meet with such occurrences ; which form one, among many means, of rendering their scanty supplies a source of greater enjoyment, than the more ample provision of their richer brethren frequently proves : and, finally, that I believe every careful observer will find remarkable coincidences in the course of events, which he will feel it right to note, as subjects of grateful remembrance to himself, whether he deem it proper to communicate them to others or not. — " Whoso is wise will ponder these things : and they shall understand the loving- kindness of the Lord." " About this time,'' he proceeds, " I began, with great caution, to administer medical assistance to a few of my poor neighbours, and Mr. (now Dr.) Kerr, of North- ampton^, bestowed some pains in directing my proceed- ings : for he felt, as I have always done, that the poor in country villages are under great and pitiable disadvan- tages in this respect, which no humanity of their neigh- bours, without medical skill, can prevent. I had before paid some attention to the study of medicine ; and now. having so eminently skilful an adviser ready to give me counsel and aid, I made progress ; and, being always cau- tious not to act beyond my knowledge, I had great suc- cess at small expence. It may not be impertinent to re- mark, that, from that time to the present, I have constant- * Still practising there in the full enjoyment of his powers, though many years older than my father. \.iO AT U'liSTON LNDKinVOOl) TILL TIIK [CliAP. V. ly had mcdir.al advice for myself and my family gratis; and my annual charge for medicines, including those dis- trihuted to the poor, has been less, on an average, than n»y apotliecary's hill used previously to he. ^"Concerning the progress of my mind at tl.is time, in it its religious inquiries, I need not add to what I have written in the • Force of Truth."' From that narrative we may observe, that this year, 1777, was marked as bringing his religious inquiries to a decisive result, and giving somewhat of mature form to his scheme of doctrine. In the course of it his views were cleared up, and his sentiments established, suc- cessively, upon the doctrines of the atonement, human depravity, the Trinity, justification, the work of the Holy Spirit, and finally, on that of personal election. Now also he was enabled, after many conflicts with him- self, to make his last and most trying sacrifice, that of reputation : and calmly, yea, cheerfully, to submit to •• suffer reproach,'' and to be accounted, " a fool for Christ's sake." From about the close of this year, he began with profit to hear Mr. Newton preach ; and, being established in the belief of the great truths of the gospel, to cherish their proper influence upon his own heart and life. Some further extracts from an interesting letter to his elder sister, of the 13th of April in this year, parts of which have been already inserted, may bear both on the facts just related and on those w hich are next to follow. " It is an uncommon degree of fortitude to be able to set one's face against the world, and to act contrary to its received maxims and customs. The soldier, who is bold as a lion in the day of battle, turns coward here ; and dares not refuse a challenge, though his reason, his reli- gion, the law^s of the land, and his own iuclinatioiu are 1777 1779.] PUBLICATION OF THE FORCE OP TRUTH. 121 all directly contrary to it : though his life and soul are at stake. Such a tyrant is custom ! Who dare oppose him ? I will tell you who : the confirmed Christian. Who is he that overcometh the world? Even he that believeth that Jesus is the Son of God. And this the victory^ even our faith. These are the only men who ever dare to obey God rather than man^ where the two are in direct opposition. But it is not every Chris- tian^ no^ nor every good and pious Christian^ who can thus courageously act^ and undauntedly follow the dictates of conscience, when friends, relations, and all those whom one has been used to reverence and love, are of a contra- ry opinion ; especially if the case be dubious, and much may be said on both sides. This is the last victory the Christian gains. He will master, by that grace which is given of God, his own lusts and passions, and all manner of inward and outward temptations ; he will be dead to the interest, pleasures, and diversions of the world ; and his affections will be earnestly set upon things above ; long before he has mastered this fear of men Here I find my own deficiency, as much or more than in any other respect : and often I feel an inward timidity, when about to preach an unpopular doctrine, or expose a foi- ble which some one of my congregation, whom I other- wise love and esteem, is remarkable for : and in every instance I feel the greatest reluctancy to resign the good opinion, or act contrary to the judgment of those for whom I have an esteem. It is true I am peculiarly bound to strive against this, by reason of my ministerial office. I am to speak boldly, not as a man-pleaser^ hut as the servant of God: and therefore I endeavour to master all these fears, and to act implicitly as my conscience sug- gests, without respect of persons. Conformity to others In things unchristian, the fear of men, a servile spirit of Q 122 AT WESTON UNDEnWOrtD TIM. THE [ChAP. V. time-serving, &c. are the faults of ministers, and effec- tually hinder even those who desire it, from performing the most important parts of their ministry, hoth in pub- lic preaching, and hy private application. But this kind of spirit goeth not out but by a very spiritual and devout coulee of life. Indeed its expulsion is the gift of God, and is to be specially sought for from him. . . . To betray the more important, in order to secure the lesser interest, is a thing I could not do ; and 1 have too great an opinion of your sincerity in your profession as a Christian, to think you would wish it. But perfection is not attaina- ble here ; and, had we nothing else to trust to for accep- tance with God, but our Ovvn imperfect righteousness, we should have little to support us, and should have a strong temptation to despair, as soon as ever we became acquainted with the strictness of God's law and our ovvn transgressions of it, daily and hourly repeated. But? thank God, the wound is no sooner given, than the rem- edy is applied : our self-dependence, is no sooner un- dermined, than we are supplied with a more sure ground of dependence, even the merits and sufferings of our crucified Redeemer. — May you and I, and all ours, have, by true, lively, humble faith, an interest in him !" The next occurrence, recorded in the memoir, raark« the faithfulness with which my father was now discharg- ing the duties of his ministry, not only in the congrega- tion, but towards his parishioners individually ; and the success of an attempt, which could not be made but at a considerable expence of feeling, may encourage others not to decline such services. ^^ In the summer of this year (1777) Mr. Higgins- who was formerly mentioned, returned from London in a very bad state of health, and I soon found that his disor- der was dropsy 5 the symptoms of which afforded no 1777 1779. J PUBLICATION OF THE FORCE OF TRUTH. 123 hopes of his recovery, or long continuance in life : yet no one gave him the least intimation of his danger. I could not consider him as in a decidedly prepared state : nay, I greatly doubted his experimental acquaintance with religion. He was my superior and benefactor. He was old, and I was young. I knew not how to act : but I could have no peace without attempting something. After much consideration and prayer, therefore, I wrote to him, in tne kindest and most grateful manner I could ; but plainly informing him what the physicians thought of his disease, and not obscurely intimating my fears in res- pect of his immortal soul. I was greatly afraid that some of the family would be offended at this proceeding, espe- cially if he himself should not take it well. But he ex- pressed great approbation and thankfulness ; and I was I'equested to visit him daily as a minister : which I did;, conversing very plainly with him, and always concluding with prayer. He heard me attentively ; was at times aifected ; and always seemed pleased with my assiduity, though he spoke little. His end proved to be nearer than any one expected, and he expired suddenly in his chair, without saying any thing particular. I however had done my duty : I trust my endeavours were made useful to his widow ; and certainly I lost no favour by my honesty — which is not, in such cases, by any means so perilous as we are often apt to suppose it. — I was also desired to write an inscription for his monument, which was, to me, a very difficult task : but I was enabled to execute it to the satisfaction of the parties concerned. " In the former part of my life T had been exceeding- ly fond of cards. Indeed I showed a propensity to gam- ing, from which many bad consequences had been fore- boded : but ill success on one occasion, long before I at- 124 AT WESTON UNDERWOOD TILL THE [ChaP. V, tended to religion, had rescued me from this : and, at the time of which I am now writing, 1 had lost all my relish for the diversion of cards, and every other of a similar nature. I, however, occasionally joined in a game, from an idea that too great preciseness might pre- judice my neighbours : and I was then of opinion, that there was no harm in the practice, though it seemed a fri- volous way of spending time, \fclt it also a very awk- ward transition to remove the card-table, and introduce the Bible and family worship ; though I never omitted tliis service at home, and commonly proposed it in my visits. My fetters were, however, broken effectually, and at once, about January 1778, in the following manner. Being on a visit to one of my parishioners at Ravenstone, I walked out after dinner, as was my common practice on such occasions, to visit some of my poor people ; when one of them (the first person, as far as I know, to whom my ministry had been made decidedly useful,) said to me, ' I have something which I wish to say to you, but I am afraid you may be offended.' I answered, that I could not promise, but I hoped I should not. She then said, ^ You know A. B. : he has lately appeared attentive to religion, and has spoken to me concerning the sacrament : but last night he, with C. D. and some others, met to keep Christmas ; and they played at cards, drank too much, and in the end quarrelled, and raised a sort of riot. And when I remonstrated with him on his conduct, as in- consistent with his professed attention to religion, his answer w as, There is no harm in cards : Mr. Scott plays at cards !' — This smote me to the heart. I saw that, if I played at cards, however soberly and quietly, the people w^ould be encouraged by my example to go fur- ther : and, if St. Paul would cat no Jlesh while the ivorld stood, rathe?' than cause his weak brother to of- 1777 1779.] PUBLICATION OF THE FORCE OF TRUTH. l25 fendj it would be inexcusable in me to throw such a stumbling-block in the way of my parishioners, in a mat- ter certainly neither needful nor expedient. So far from being offended at the hint thus given me, I felt very thankful to my faithful monitor, and promised her that she should never have occasion to repeat the admonition. That very evening I related the whole matter to the com- pany, and declared my fixed resolution never to play at cards again. I expected that I should be harrassed with solicitations ; but I was never asked to play afterwards. Let me therefore from my own experience, as well as from the reason of the case, urge persons, from their first entrance upon a religious course, when asked to do any thing which they disapprove, fairly to state their disap- probation as a point of conscience. For not only is this most becoming those in whom there is no guile^ but it is also by far the most prudent proceeding. If they assign roasons drawn only from local and temporary circumstan- ces, when those circumstances are changed, they will be pressed again and again with redoubled earnestness ; whereas, if they once fairly declare their refusal to be the result of deliberate consideration, and the dictate of con- science, the hope of prevaling upon them will be given up, and they will save themselves great trouble and dan- ger. " Let me also observe, that the minister, who would not have his people give into such worldly conformity as he disapproves, must keep at a considerable distance from it himself. If he walk near the brink, others will fall down the precipice. — When I first attended seriously to religion, I used sometimes, when I had a journey to perform on the next day, to ride a stage in the evening, after the services of the sabbath ; and I trust my time on horseback was not spent unprofitably. But I soon found 126 AT AVESTON UNDERWOOD TILL THE [ChAP. V, that this I'urnishcd an excuse to some of my parishioners, Tor employing a considerable part of the Lord's day in jonrneys of business or convenience. I need scarcely add, that I immediately abandoned the practice, on the same ground on which I resolved never more to play at cards, even before I thought so unfavourably of them as I now do. '^ In this connexion I may take occasion to mention my estrangement from another favourite diversion, at a still earlier period. In the former part of my life, I had been extravagantly fond of seeing plays acted, even in the rude manner in which they are performed in country places. Hence I anticipated the highest pleasure from visitinp; a London theatre. But I never went more than ence : for I witnessed so much folly and wickedness, and heard so much profaneness and ribaldry, both from the stage, and in other parts of the theatre, that I resolved, on leaving the house, never to go to a play again. — Yet this was in April 1773, before my mind was in any material degree turned towards religion, and nearly five years previously to my giving up cards.* ^^My unreserved, and often, no doubt, forward and rash avowal of the change which had taken place in my religious views and purposes, soon induced most of my former acquaintances to avoid me. Thus I escaped hear- ing the scoffs and reproaches which were uttered against me in a])undance behind my back ; and was also exempt- ed from many temptations : but, perhaps, I at the same time lost some openings for usefulness, which might have been afforded me. One clergyman, however, who pos- sessed more doctrinal knowledge than many, and with * 1 would refer the reader for the most forcible observations on the theatre, that I have any where met with, to Mr. Pearson's Life of Mr. Hey, part ii. p. 242, 8cs. 1777 1779.] PUBLICATION OF THE FORCE OFTRUTH. 127 whom I had been somewhat intimate, would not thus give me up. — My time was much occupied with study and the preparation of sermons ; (for I preached and lec- tured five times in the week, — three of which were gra- tuitous services ;) so that trifling visitors were very un- welcome : but, as this clergyman frequently visited at Mrs. Throckmorton's, (the Roman catholic family resi- dent in the village,) when he had nothing to engage him at the Hall, he used to call upon me in the forenoons, and try to enter into dispute with me on the doctrines of the gospel ; especially the high points usually denominated Calvinistic. Finding this very unprofitable, I one day said to him : ' You are not, I presume, aware, Sir, that we differ more in our sentiments on practical subjects, than even with respect to these doctrines.' So far from allow- ing this, he maintained, that on such subjects we were perfectly agreed : while I, to support my position, read him a lecture on the duties of a clergyman, according to my views of them. I pointed out what the minister's motives and aim ought to be ; and how his time ought to be divided, between his studies (especially the study of the holy scriptures, ) and private devotion ; preparing his his sermons ; catechizing children ; instructing the igno- rant ; visiting the sick ; and conversing with his people. I hence inferred, that the consistent clergyman could have no time to spare for unprofitable visits and vain diver- sions ; and but little for any visits, except in subserviency to religious edification and usefulness. ' And now, Sir,' I said at the conclusion, ' do we not differ on this practical subject, at least as much as respecting justifica- tion or election ?' He had no answer to make ; and he never more came to interrupt my studies. I am sorry to add, that no further good effect was produced. " My vicar at Ravenstone, in proportion as I became 128 AT WESTON UNDERWOOD TILL THE [CuAP. V. more decided in my views, .ind especially more instant in preaching, increasing the length, as well as the frequency, of my sermons ; hoth of his own instance, and as excited by others, shewed more marked opposition to my pro- ceedings. Sometimes his opposition assumed an angry and menacing form, and, alas ! more than once produced in me reciprocal anger : yet my arguments from our Li- turgy and Articles always proved to him unanswerable. At other times his tone was more playful and jocose. One day he remonstrated with me on the length of my ser- mons, (which fell not much short of an hour;) and he mentioned by name several clergymen who preached twenty, fifteen, twelve, or even ten minutes. My an- swer was, that I feared they were in jest ; but I was in earnest. — On another occasion he objected to my writing so many new sermons ; principally, I believe, because he had been used to be diverted by my company, and my time was now otherwise engaged. He observed that, for his own part, when he was ordained, he had written fif- ty-four or fifty-five sermons, and they liad served him very well ever since, — though he had been above fifty years in orders. I remarked, that I hoped he had, dur- ing that long period, grown much wiser : but that he had effectually precluded his people from profiting by his im- provement ! " In this way, sometimes by argument, and sometimes by replies half serious and half playful, I maintained my ground : till at length tlte old gentleman was so im- pressed by what he heard and saw, that he forbore, for a time, all opposition : vindicated me against cen- sure ; wept frequently under my sermons ; and was found uniformly, when we called upon him, reading the scriptures : so that the most sanguine hopes were en- tertained concerning him. But, alas ! it was the inorn- 1777 1779.] PUBLICATION OF THE FORCE OF TRUTH. 129 ing cloudy and the early dew which passeth away. The whole gradually wore off, and terminated in a sort of sceptical, sneering apathy. He continued, however, much attached to me, and did not object to my views of Christianity : and I only speak what many thought and said, when I state, that it seemed probable, that, by a little politic management, I might have inherited his property. But by nature I was too proud for such an attempt ; and, I hope, through grace I was become too conscientious to make the requisite concessions. I how- ever retained the curacy^ till, much against his wishes, I voluntarily resigned it. " After some time a house at Weston belonging to Mr. C. Higgins became vacant, and was offered me at less than half the rent* (of 12/.) which I had previously paid : and I accordingly removed to it. — In this village two sons were born to me, one of whom died an infant, and the other, of the same name, (Thomas,) is now minister of the episcopal chapel of Gawcott, in the parish of Buck- ingham. Some time after I removed to the house just mentioned, I had three children living : but two were taken from me within a very short time, and John, the only surviving one, was so dangerously ill, that his life was not expected. My heart was overwhelmed : but, after very much prayer, I felt my will submissive, and was resigned to part with him also, unless it should please God to spare him to do some good in the world. He short- ly after recovered ; and, I trust, was spared for usefulness. — But I have here anticipated ; as some things, about to be stated, occurred before these events." In the last-mentioned incident, my dear father records * In fact Mr. H. took no rent of me, but a hamper of pears, aimiially, from a fine tree in the garden, for which he regularly -sent me a receipt, R 130 AT WESTON UNDERWOOD, &C. [ChAP. V. what deeply and lastingly affected his own mind, and what he has often, in relating it. made afi'ecting to the minds of others — parti(Milarly of him who now remarks upon it. Neither wa.s it forgotten amid the solemnities of his dying bed. May the prayei's offered up under the pressure of the aflliction, and often, no doubt, repeated afterwards through succeeding years, be much more abundantly an- swered than they have ever yet been ! He adds, " In this situation I wrote and published the ' Foroe of Truth ;' which was revised by Mr. Cowper, and, as to style and externals, but not otherwise, consi- derably improved by his advice." On this publication, which has already been repeatedly referred to, I shall here make no further remark, than that the first edition is dated February 26, 1779 ; defer- ring, with respect to it, as I shall do with respect to my father's other works, whatever observations I may have to oiFer, to the close of these memoirs. 1777 — 1780.] LETTERS. 131 CHAPTER VL LETTERS BELONGING TO THE PERIOD OP THE PRECEDING CHAPTER. Here again it may be proper to suspend a little the progress of the nari-ation^ for the purpose of introducing to the reader's notice extracts of several letters, bearing upon the events, or pertaining to the times, which we have been reviewing. — The following relate to the deaths which have been mentioned, and some others with which, about this period, my father's family was visited. To my mother's sister, dated October 19, 1779: ^^I have to inform you that it has pleased the Lord, who gave, also to take away from us, our youngest boy, your husband's godson ; and thereby to discharge both him and us from our trust. After a lingering and w^asting disor- der, in which the poor thing appeared to suffer very much, he was released from this world of sin and sorrow, and, I doubt not, joined the blessed assembly above, to unite in their song of praise to Him that sitteth on the throne, and to the Lamb that was slain, and hath re- deemed them to God with his blood. He died on the morning of September 25th. Nature will feel and heave the anxious sigh, but faith looks within the veil, beholds the happy deliverance, approves, and rejoices : and I trust we both are enabled to say from our hearts, The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away : blessed he the name of the Lord, — So long as the poor infant 132 LETTERS. [Chap. VI. was amongst the number of suH'crers, it was a sharp trial to lis both : bnt w hen he was released, I believe, in our better judgment, we both rejoiced. — But I am speak- ing all these things to one who knows not experimen- tally a parent's heart ; and, if I can judge by myself, and my way of thinking before I was a parent, I can fancy you saying, ' There is no such great loss, nor such a mighty resignation, in being willing to part with a little infant, that seems well out of the way.' Thus I used to think : but it comes nearer a parent's heart than you can imagine : and it would be no easy matter to me to resign patiently to this loss, were it not that I assuredly believe that, as the Lord knows best what is good for me, so he is engaged by promise to make all work together for my good ; and were I not also assured (which too often one cannot be con- cerning deceased persons^, ) that he is now a blessed spirit in heaven ; from whence, if they in heaven have knowledge of the concerns of those they leave behind, he looks down, with a mixture of pity and astonish- ment, to see us so ignorantly, I had almost said en- viously, wishing him a sharer of our vain enjoyments, embittered with numberless sorrows, and defiled by con- tinual sins. — Death has been very busy indeed of late in my family. Within about six years I have lost my father and mother, two own sisters, two brothei^-in- law, an own aunt, a nephew, and a son. These are remembrances to me to take heed, be ready, watch and pray, for I know not when the time is. As such losses loosen our hearts gradually from the world, so they also make us feel ourselves dying creatures. Hearing of one, and then another, and then another taken off by such un- expected strokes, 1 seem to wonder at myself, that I am yet spared ; and to fancy 1 see death brandishing his 1777—1780.] LETTERS. 133 lance over my head^ ready to strike the fatal blow. I feel to stand on the brink of a precipice^ ready by the slightest touch to be thrown down into eternity. I seem to hear a voice behind me saying. Prepare to meet thy God. — I bless the Lord, this fills me with no uneasy, anx- ious thoughts. Through grace, I trust that, having as a poor sinner fled for refuge to the hope set before us in a crucified Saviour, through the sprinkling of his most precious blood, my soul is cleansed from the guilt of all its sins ; and that I have the experience of what is meant by the sanctification of the spirit unto ohedienee; andean join with Peter, 1st Epist. i. 2 — 4, (to which I refer you,) and therefore can say, / know that, ivhen this earthly house of my tabernacle shall be dissolved, I have a build- ing of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. And, as to those that belong to me, though they are my closest tie to life, I can nevertheless leave them with satisfaction in the hands of that God, who hath fed me all my life long, and who hath said, Leave thy fa- therless children with me, and I ivill preserve them alive; and let thy widows trust in me. — However you will ob- serve that I am at present in a very tolerable state of health, and no more like dying, than at any other time in my whole life ; and, though we may not argue from such reasons, yet I sometimes fancy, that the Lord has somewhat more for me to do, before he takes me to that rest reserved for the people of God. — However, this habitual frame of mind which my own frequent sickness, and so many instances of mortality have brought me into, doth very much mortify me to this world; and I cannot but wonder to think of my former castle-building frame of mind, when, with eager hopes and sanguine expectations, I was forming schemes of satisfying and durable happiness in such a vain uncertain world. My dreams and visions are now van- 1 34 I^ KTT E R S . [C H A P . VI . islicd like a morning (loud. I find now that neither riches, nor prefernient. nor reputation, nor ])leasure. nor anv worhlly good, can afford that happiness 1 was seeking. I bless the Lord. I did not discover the cheat, nor lose the shadow, before I fonnd the substince. I did not dis- cover all else to be vanity and vexation of spirit, until I found out that to fear God and keep his eommandments is the whole of man. Oh how many thousands, that, like him in the gospel who never lifted up his eyes till in hell, never find their sad mistake till it is to late ! When I look around upon a busy bustling world, eagerly pursuing van- ity and courting disappoiritment, neglecting nothing so much as the one thing needful : and who, in order to have their portion in this life, disregard the world to come, and only treasure up wrath against the day of wrath ; it makes me think of a farmer, who should, with vast labour, cultivate his lands, and gather in his crop, and thresh it out, and separate the corn from the chaff, and then sweep the corn out upon the dunghill, and carefully lay by the chaff! Such a person would be supposed mad : but how faint a shadow would this be of his madness, who labours for the meat that perisheth, but neglects that which en- dure th unto everlasting life ! — This is all unpremeditated : I must leave you to apply it. It is a madness the whole race of men labours under, unless and until divine grace works the cure : until it may be said of us, as of the re- turning prodigal, When he came to hiinself he said^&c. — You will excuse, I hope, the mention of such important subjects. My only apology is, that we are creatures formed for eternity : and my wish and prayer are, that, whether we meet on earth or not, we may spend eternity together in heaven. If we are all in the right way, we do well to encourage and quicken one another; and, if otherwise, the sooner we set out the better.'' 1777—1780.] LETTERS. 135 The following passages relate to a death which still more deeply affected him. To his elder sister. May 30, 1780. " The occasion of my writing is to inform you, that the Lord has been pleased to take my poor dear daughter from me by a sud- den stroke. She was in perfect health, and a breathless corpse, within less than eighteen hours ... A sweeter child and dearer to her parents' hearts could scarcely be : and, whilst I looked upon her promising advances in knowledge, and apparently Christian converse, tempers, and conduct, (which were almost incredible,) I promised myself great comfort in her; and did not understand, that the Lord, by bringing her forward so very much beyond her years, was only preparing her for himself, and ripen- ing her for glory. — But I shall say no more of her. If ever we meet, and you desire it, I can give you an ac- count of such things concerning her, as will surprise you. This is my great comfort.'' It will no doubt surprise the reader to be informed, that this is written concerning a child only four years and a half old. But it is implied that the case was extraor dinary : my father always considered it as the most re- markable that had fallen under his own observation ; and he has left a short memorial of it, which will be annexed to the present publication. But I here subjoin an extract of another letter, to which the preceding gave occasion. To same, July 6, 1780. " Concerning my poor dear babe truly I grieved, and felt more than ever 1 felt before of that grief, which springs from being be- reaved of one much beloved : and my heart bleeds, if I may thus speak, at every remembrance of her. But I do not grieve as one without hope : hope of meeting her in glory, and spending a joyful eternity together. — I do not grieve so as to indulge ^vitiov complaining, or think 361 LETTERS. [Chap. VI. (with Jonah,) I do locll to be an^ry^ because my darling gourd is withered. God liath done well, and wisely, and graciously ; and, whilst my heart is pained, my judgment is satisfied. 1 do not now wish it otherwise. She might have lived, in some way or other, to have filled my soul with unmixed bitterness, and to have brought down my grey hairs (if I live to grey hairs,) loith sorroiv to the grave. — I do not grieve so as not to rejoice : rejoice to recollect what I cannot now particularize of her amazing understanding and answers, teachableness and conscien- tiousness ; which makes me not doubt that she was, in a measure, like John the Baptist, taught by the Holy Ghost from her mother's womb : for none could speak and act as she did but by the Holy Ghost : — rejoice, to think that I have two children adopted into God's femily, taken home to his house, and filled with his love. It is a high honour, and I ought to rejoice in it. Dearly as I love my only remaining babe, and much as I long to keep him, I had rather see him die, as my poor dear girl did, than live rich and honoured, without he live the life of a true Christian. — She has got free from all that I long to be delivered from ; and has attained all I am longing for. I shall go to her^ but she shall not return to me. — You mention the supposed loss of your sweet babes. Whilst I pray God to preserve them to you, and you to them, I cannot but advise you to rejoice in them with trembling, and to be often preparing, in thinking and praying con- cerning it, for a separation : for we are tenants at will concerning all our comforts. — When you call them sweet innocent creatures, I hope you only mean com pari tively, and to our ap])rehcnsions ; not forgetting the words of our Catechism, that we are * born of sin, and the children of wrath.' The youngest needs the blood of Christ to wash away the guilt, and the Spirit of Christ to cleanse 1777 — 1780 LETTERS. 137 away the pollution of sin : and they should be taught, as soon as they know any thing, to consider themselves as sinners, and to pray for the pardon of sin, and a new heart and nature, in and through Jesus Christ. This my poor babe did by herself alone, as duly as the morn- ing and evening came. — But enough, and probably too much of this, which I hope you will not take ill . . . .'' One of the '^ brothers-in-law,'' of whose death men- tion has been made in the above extracts, was the hus- band of my father's eldest sister, Mrs. Webster, to whom so many of his letters are addressed. She had been married only five years, and was now left (September, 1779,) with two children, and the near prospect of the birth of a third ; besides many other difiiculties to strug- gle with. These circumstances, of so beloved a relative, naturally called forth all the tender sympathies of my father's heart ; and he wrote to her several letters full of affectionate condolence, and wise and Christian coun- sel. Some of them I should with pleasure insert, were I not restrained by the fear of extending my extracts be- yond due bounds. We have seen the spirit with which my father, at this period, bore severe trials of one class ; I shall next fur- nish specimens of the temper which he manifested under those of another description. Intimations have already appeared, that the change, which had taken place in his religious views, was not a- greeable to others of his family besides his deceased fa- ther. In this respect he, for a considerable time, suffer- ed an affliction, in which, as in almost all others, those who are exercised with it, may derive comfort from re- flecting, that the divine Redeemer learned by experi- ence to sympathize with his followers. Of him it is writ- S 1^* LRTTR^g. [Chaf. VI. ten, ^^ Neither did his hrdhren believe in him." Hap- Jiilt there is the less reason, in the present instance, for beitie; restrained by delicacy from adverting to this sub- ject, because all the parties referred to were ultimately brouc^ht to an acquiescence in their brother's sentiments; And those, iii particular, with whom we are here most concerned, eventually bore that regard for his character, and that lovie to his principles, that I am persuaded they would have wished nothing to be withheld which Iniglit advantageously illustrate the one, or tend to pro- Inote the other ; even though it should cast a little pas- sing blame upon themselves. A letter of Octbber 13, 1778, to his elder sister, which makes mention of ^' a very bad and dangerous illness after his return from London,'' and also of " finding so much writihg very prejudicial to his health," contains further intimations of the kind alluded to ; and at the Same time well illustrates the very prudent and proper course which he persucd, and which indeed the progress o{ his own mind nattirally suggested to him, in treating with his correspondent upon the subjects nearest his heart. " You seemed to think, when you were with us, that I Wnnted to impose a set of notions upon you in religion : T)ut that is Wot my aim. If you ask me what my belief is, I am willing to declare it : but otherwise I have no am- bition to make proselytes to an opinion. My design is to make converts to the substantial duties of a religious and godly life : to persuade (leople that eternity is of most consequence : that they ought not to be so careful and troubled about many things, as to neglect the one thing heedful : that our religion is all contained in the Bible : that We ought to read that book not only to learn what to do, but what to believe : that God is the giver of wisdom : 1777—1780.] LETTERS. |3!9 the Holy Spirit the teacher of the truth : that, before we understand the scripture aright, we must have our minds opened and prepared by the Spirit of God— -for the natu- ral man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God, for they are foolishness unto him, neither can he knoy^ them, because they are spiritually disce?'ned .-—in short, that we are to trust in the Lord with all oixf heart, and not to lean to our own understanding : that therefore we ought to be constant in prayer to God, that he would teach us the true way of salvation — for his secret is with them that fear him, and he will shew them his covcfiant / — that he would preserve us from mistake, lead us to know his truth, free us from prejudice and pride, and give us that true wisdom which is from above. Three years and a half I have day by day, and many times a day, done this. Since I did so, I have found myself much changed in my views and notions of religion : and, as I am comfortably assured that the Lord hath heard and answered my prayers; and as I not only feel the effect of it in myself, but see the ef- fect of the alteration of my preaching, in the very wonderful change of many profligate sinners to a so- ber, righteous, and godly life ; I therefore, wherein I suppose I was before wrong myself, hint it to you and others dear to me. If you think differently from to me, you cannot deny that the means I prescribe are right, safe, scriptural, and a duty. There I leave it. I profess to believe it the Lord's work : when I have used the means, I leave it to him : and my daily, and more than daily prayer for you, all and every one, is, that the Lord would set you right where wrong ; teach you where ignorant ; guide you to the knowledge of his sav- ing truth ; and fulfil all his gracious promises, spiritual ,and temporal, to your souls and bodies. — -I should be 140 LETTERS. [Chap. VL glad if you would say a few words on this subject : if not, I must be satisfied to leave it where it is. We any of us luay be wrong, and therefore we ought not to be too sure we are right ; for confidence is no mark of wisdom. It is worth our inquiry and our prayer, and you will not find me hasty to dictate." In a subsequent letter, December 15, 1779, while he anticipates her coming to the same views with him, he wisely says, " I have no expectation that this will be brought about in the way of argumentation and dispute, which generally do too much ruffle the passions, to leave the mind open to an impartial reception of the truth.'' He rather expects ^^ that, under the guidance and secret teaching of the Holy Spirit, gradually opening her un- derstanding to understand the scriptures, and disclosing more and more what passes in her own heart, and what is revealed in the Bible, she will seem to discover it of herself.'' And in a third, dated a month afterwards, he says, ^^Your letter, though written not without suspicions that I should disapprove it, is the most comfortable one I have ever received from you since my views of religion were changed ; as it leaves me little doubt that the Lord is leading you, in the same gradual manner he led me, to a spiritual and experimental acquaintance with the truth as it is in Jesus !" Yet, still later than this, he mournfully laments the neglect into which he had fallen with his relations on ac- count of his religious principles ; not excepting even those sistei^ with whom he had long maintained such full and intimate correspondence. " It is no small concern to me,*'" he says, " that you, and indeed all my relations, should have entirely forgotten that there is such a person as I am. If indeed you do think me mistaken, then pray 1777 1780.] LETTERS. 141 for me that the Lord may set me right, and recover me ; and now and then let me hear something from you, if you be weary of mentioning religion. — Indeed I do not forget you : not a day passes but I make mention of you in my prayers, nor a post- night comes, bat it occurs to my mind, that formerly I used to hear from you. ... I long to hear of your welfare, and should be glad to con- tribute to it ; nor do I yet despair, that we shall one day be of one mind where we most differ : for I do most sin- cerely beseech the Lord to lead me right wherever I mistake, and to lead you right wherever you mis- take ; and I beg of you to make the same request. And I hope he regards and will answer : and then, where- ever we are either of us wrong, we shall both be brought right at last, and meet like-minded in heaven." And yet again : " When I receive no answer for a long time, I cannot but be discouraged, and led to sus- pect that the reason why my friends do not write is, that they do not desire my letters ; and this keeps me from writing except I have business. Otherwise I will assure you, that one post-night after another I have complained with a sorrowful heart, that all my relations were weary ©f me." These extracts, and several things which have preced- ed, may perhaps present my father to some readers in a new point of view. A certain roughness of exterior im- pressed many persons with the idea that he was harsh and severe. It was reserved to those who knew him more intimately, to be fully aware how kind and feeling a heart he carried within ; a heart which Christian prin- ciples, while they fortified the natural firmness of his character, made continually more and more tender and aifectionate, and that, as his latter days advanced, to a degree that it is scarcely possible to express. 142 LETTERS. [Chap. VI. But, besides this effect of these extracts, I willingly promise myself that they may prove, in various ways, useful to many readers. Some may be taught by them what so expect, and be admonished to "count their cost," in professing themselves Christ's disciples. There is an opposition in the human heart to the principles of his religion, really received and acted upon, which no bonds of relative affection can overcome : and hence he assures us, that, " if we love father or mother more than him, we cannot be his disciples." — To others, they may suggest important hints on the proper manner of conducting themselves under trials of this kind. Let them neither be " ashamed of Christ's words," nor too impetuously obtrude them upon unwilling hearers. The cfiution will be doubly needful, towards persons filling the superior relations in life. — And to all who are endeavouring to pur- sue a right course themselves, and longing after beloved relatives, "in the bowels of Jesus Christ," these passages, compared with the result, which has been already stated, may afford great encouragement. Let them always re- member the reply of the Christian bishop, to the weep- ing mother of St. Augustine, " The child of so many prayers can never be lost !" But the most pleasing proof of the happiness as well as benevolence, which religion diffused over my fathers mind at this period, is furnished by a letter to his younger sister, Mrs. Ford, dated July 27, 1779. " Hitherto," he says, " I have kept silence, yea even from good tvords : but it was pain and grief to me, . . . I would, however, once more remind you, that you have a brother — who was no hypocrite when he assured you that he loved you, at least as well as any relation that he had in the v/orld, his wife and children excepted ; that your interest and welfare were always ne^r tp feis heart; 1777 — 1780.] LETTERS. 143 that he would have been glad, if it had pleased God, to have had it in his power to evidence this to you by some important service : that his love is not waxed cold, nor in the least diminished, but the contrary ; that he loves you as well, and wishes you better than ever ; and that, seeing he can do nothing else, he never forgets, in his daily prayers, to commend you and yours, soul and body, to the love, care, and blessing of his God and Saviour. — Dear sister, I can truly say with Paul, that / have con- tinual sorrow and heaviness in my heart, for my bre- thren according to the flesh : but on account of none so much as you. All the rest, though not seeing with my eyes, are friendly and civil, and not willing quite to give me up : but you have totally turned your back of me : — the favourite sister, whose heart seemed as closely knit to mine by the dearest and most confidential friendship, as the nearest relative ties ! The very thought brings tears into my eyes, and I weep while I write to you. And what have I done to offend you? — It has pleased the Lord, though my study of his word, with prayer for that teaching which he hath promised, to lead me to a differ- ent view of the gospel of Jesus Christ, than I had em- braced : and not only so, but to lead me from seeking the favour of the world, and my own glory, to seek God's favour, aim at his glory, and derive happiness from him. A happiness I have therein tasted, to which I was before a stranger — that peace of God which passeth all under- standing^ and which as much excels, even in this world, any thing I had before experienced, as the cheering con- stant light of the noon-day sun exceeds the short-lived glare of a flash of lightning, which leaves the night more dark and gloomy than before. Having found that good I had long been seeking in vain, I was desirous to tell all I loved, in proportion as I loved them, what the Lord 10 LETTERS. [Chap. VI. liad (lone for me, and how he liad had mercy on me ; that they find, vviiat I knew they too were seeking, true hap- piness. Come, taste and see how gracious the Lord is, and how blessed they are that put their trust in him, was the language of my heart. But, for want of experience and prudence, forgetting my own principle, that none can come to Jesus except he be taught of God, (John vi. 44 — 46,) I was much too earnest, and in a hurry: said too much, and went too far : and thus, out of my abun- dant love, surfeited you. Forgive me this wrong! It was well meant, but ill-judged, and worse received. 0 my dear sister, I wish you as happy as I am myself, and I need wish you no happier in this world. To call God my father ; to confide in his love ; to realise his powerful presence ; to see by faith his wisdom choosing, his love providing for me, his arm protecting me ; to find him (my sins notwith- standing,) reconciled to me, and engaged to bless me ; to view him seated on a throne of grace, bowing his ear to my poor prayers, granting my requests, supplying my wants, supporting me under every trial, sweetening and sanctifying every trouble, manifesting his love to me, and comforting me by his Holy Spirit ; to look forward to heaven as my home ; and to be able to say at night, when I go to rest. If I die before morning, I shall be with my gracious Lord, to enjoy his love for ever: This is my happiness : and what is there in the world worth compar- ing with it ? ' Let worldly minds die world pursue, It has no charms for me ; Once I admir'd its trifles too, But grace has set me free.' — Peace with God, peace of conscience, peace in my family, peace with all around me — these are the blessings 1777 — 1780.] LETTERS. 145 o^ peace which God gives his people. May God give them to you! — I say no more upon doctrines : only search the scriptures, and pray to be taught of God. — If I have said too much this time on the subject, I will say less next letter. Only acknowledge me as a brother, and do not quite disown me, as an incorrigible fanatic, because I believe the scriptures, and exhort you to read them, and pray to understand them. . . ^' I have written a book, now in the press, which will be published in three weeks time, given an account of the grounds and reasons of the change you so much won- der at ; chiefly for the use of my former friends. As you used not to consider me as a fool, do not condemn my book as foolish, without reading it, and that atten- tively : and, where we diifer, do make it a part of your prayers, that whichever of us is mistaken may be directed to the truth. '^ Writing to Mr. and Mrs. Ford jointly, September 28th, after allowing the truth of their position, " that it is possible for a person, engaged in the concerns of the world, so to spend his time in his business, as to be doing his duty to God and man,'' he makes the following re- marks : " However, by the way, observe, that very few thus manage their worldly business. Of this you may judge. He, who thus does his worldly business, has it sanctified by the word of God and prayer. He goes about it because it is the will of God he should do so. He orders it all in conformity to his revealed will, as far as he knows that will ; comparing his conduct continually with the word of God. He depends upon the Lord for a blessing in his undertakings, and seeks it in prayer. What the Lord gives, he recieves v>^ith thankfulness ; as a gift undeserved ; as a talent committed to his steward- ship ; and aims to use it to his glory : jiot with the miser, T 146 LETTERS. [Chap. VI. as a talent wrapped in a napkin, or buried in the earth : not as provision made for the flesh, to fulfil the lusts thereof, with the prodigal : but in temperance, modera- tion, and a liberal, compassionate beneficence. When the Lord crosses him, he submits, and says, It is the Lord J let him do ivhat seenieth him good : and, when things look dark, he does not murmur or distrust, but says, the Lord will provide.'' Another series of letters may also here be adverted to, extending from the year 1778 to 1785, and addressed to the husband of my mother's sister. They are almost en- tirely religious, but being chiefly occupied in urging first principles, they will not furnish more than a few extracts in this place, illustrative of the writer's zeal, faithfulness, and spiritual wisdom. " August 11, 1778. Religion was so much the sub- ject of conversation with us when you were in Bucks, that I hope it will not be a disagreeable subject of cor- respondence. I am so deeply sensible of the importance of religion, that is, of the concerns of eternity, the in- terests of our immortal souls, and the way and manner wherein we may be accepted by a just, holy, almighty, and eternal God, that I am naturally led to think every one as much impressed with the sense of these things as I am ; though I have abundant evidence that there are but very few, who pay much regard to them : and, of those who do pay some regard, most are so much blinded and prejudiced by the world, by Satan, and by sin, that their religion is one of their own making, and they know little of that religion which the word of (iod proposes to us. You may remember that, though I told you my views of religion over and over, yet I laid little stress upon that. I told you withal that I did not want you to believe them because I taught them, but because tlie Lord 1777 — 1780.] LETTERS. 147 taught them. The Bible being the word of God, his message to us, able to make us wise unto salvation^ the great point I laboured to impress upon your mind was, the absolute necessity of taking our religion from that book alone, and the obligation we are under to search the scriptures daily to know what indeed they do contain ; to receive what they contain as certain truth, however man, even learned men, and preachers, may contradict them, and however contrary they may be to our former notions and conceptions, and how mysterious soever some things in them may appear. — ^The next thing I laboured to impress was, the necessity of prayer in general for whatever we want ; but especially, when we read the word of God, that we may be enabled by the Holy Spirit to understand it.'' " January 15, 1779. Whether you know it or not, (I hope you will know it, ) before you can serve God with comfort and acceptance you need these two things. First, forgiveness of sins. You have been sinning against God in thought, word, and deed, all your life ; as we all have. Your sins of heart and life, of omission and commission, stand against you, and, till they be accounted for and forgiven, your services cannot be accepted. Every duty you do is short of its perfection, and as such adds to your sins and needs forgiveness. In this case the gospel re- veals forgiveness, through the blood of Christ, /r^e/y given to every sinner who believes. Believe, and thou shalt he saved. Accept this freely, as it is offered, and seek, by prayer, for faith to believe this record which God gives of his Son : and then, your sins being forgiven, you will no longer look upon God as an austere master, or se- vere judge, but as a loving father, and will with accep- tance and comfort pay your services, though imperfect. For, secondly, you need moreover a willing mind, and 148 i.ETTEKM. [Chap. VI. strength to resist temptation. Hitherto, I dare say, you have constrained your inclination in what you have done in religion : but, if you are brought to faith, living faith in Christ, he will give you other inclinations, a netv heart, and a new spirit, a new nature. Then his yoke ivill be easy ; his commandments not grievous ; his ivays^ tvays of pleasantness,^^ '' Nov. 2, 1780. May I conjecture the reason of your silence ? If I am mistaken, I hope you will not be offended, as I am solicitous about you, and fearful lest by any yncans the tempter have tempted you^ and my la- bour should, be in vairi : which to loose would be a great grief to me, to you an I cannot express what ! — I? not the case thus ? When you had got home, and enga- ged afresh in worldly business, and got again among for mer companions, were you not carried away with the stream ? Your impressions gradually wearing off, and conscience making fainter and fainter resistance, hath not your goodness proved like the morning dew^ that passeth away .^. . . . Oh how glad should I be to find my- self mistaken in this ! for God is my record how earnest- ly / long after you in the bowels of Jesus Christ : that I do bear a truly brotherly affection towards you, long for your welfare, and not wholly forget to pray for you, and still hope that my prayers shall be answered.'' "January 11, 1781. I rejoice exceedingly at what you tell me concerning yourself. 1 would not say too much in the way of encouragement. . . I have seen hope- ful awakenings wear off : therefore be jealous of yourself : be not high minded, hut fear : press forward, forget- ting the things that are behind, and reaching fw^th to the things that are before. But I will venture to say, that your last letter has made my heart leap for joy, and X777 — 1780.] LETTERS. 149 makes me confidently hope for a happy issue^ an effectual answer to the many prayers I have^ and your sister has offered for you You speak of the reproach of the world : rejoice in it. What, are you unwilling to be put upon a footing with the apostles, and prophets, yea with your master himself?" I flatter myself I need offer no apology for extracts presenting so lively and affecting a picture of the writer's mind, and exhibiting in him already so strong a resemb- lance of what he himself has described, as St. Paul's temper, in the opening of his treatise on ' Growth in Grace.' ^^ The apostle Paul," he says, ^^ was evidently a. man of strong passions and peculiar sensibility ; and, being by divine grace exceedingly filled with love to the Lord Jesus, and to the souls of men, his mind was affect- ed with the most lively emotions of joy or sorrow, hope or fear, according to the tidings he received from the sev- eral churches of Christ. At one time he complains that he has no rest in his fiesh^ is filled ivith heaviness j and can no longei^ forbear ; and that he writes out of much affliction^ with anguish of heart, and with many tears. At another he declares that he is filled with comfort , and is exceedingly joy fid in all his tribulation, being com- forted by the faith of his beloved children : for now, says he, ^ive live, if ye stand fast in the LordP — He understands the opcstle, indeed, to " intimate, that these were things which concerned his infirmities : and doubt- less," he says, " this sanguine disposition requires much correction and regulation by divine grace : but, when it is thus tempered and counterbalanced by proportionable humility, wisdom, patience, and disinterestedness, it may be considered as the main spring of a minister's activity. And, as these united qualifications certainly conduced 150 LETTERS. [Chap. VI. very much to the apostle's extraordinary usefulness, so they render his epistles peculiarly interesting to us, in all our inquiries concerning the best methods of promoting the enlargement and prosperity of the church, and the edification of all the true disciples of the Lord Jesus." 1780.] WESTON UNDERWOOD, 131 CHAPTER. VIL FROM THE FIRST PROPOSAL OF THE CURACY OF OLNEY TO THE CLOSE OF HIS MINISTRY THERE. " In 1780* Mr. Newton removed to London. When he had determined on this step, he proposed to me, with considerable earnestness, that I should succeed him in the curacy of Olney, which he had sufficient influence to procure for me. I felt great reluctance to comply with the proposal, both because it would remove me from Ravenstone, — hitherto the principal sphere of my use- fulness,— and also because, from njy acquaintance with the leading people at Olney, (where I had frequently preached,) and from other circumstances, I was sure that my plain distinguishing style of preaching, especi- ally as connected with my comparative youth, would not be acceptable there: I was convinced that even from Mr. Newton many could not endure what I should deem it my duty to inculcate : how then could it be expected that they should endure it from me ? — Mr. N's. persua- sions, however, with those of a few of his friends, extort- ed my unwilling consent. But, as soon as it was known, that he meant me to be his successor, so general and vio- lent an opposition was excited, that he said to me by let- *Mr. Newton's first sermon at St. Mary Woolnoth's was preached December 19, 1779. W)2 CLOSING PERIOD AT [ChAP. VII. ter, ^ I believe SaUin has so strone; an objertion to your coming to Olncy, that it would probably be advisable to defer it for the present.'' This rejoiced me and many others : but our joy was not of long duration. — Let this stiitement be kept in mind, when the censures on my ministry at Olney come under consideration. ^' The person, on whom the prevailing party at Olney had fixed as successor to Mr. N., was, in his opinion, as well as in that of all other competent judges, the most improper that could have been selected, being com- pletely antinomian in principle and practice. I never saw Mr. N. so much disconcerted as on tliis occasion. But opposition was like pouring oil into the fire. Hr therefore gave way, but with a kind of foreboding pre- diction of the consequences, at least of some of them.'^ The following events, which occured between the time of the proposed removal to Olney being abandoned? and that of its being subsequently carried into eifect, may seem to exhibit my father more as a physician than as a divine : they all tend, however, to display his character. ^^ Just before Mr. N. left Olney, the small pox made its a])pearance there, and, in a considerable measure through the intractable behaviour of the inhabitants, both in opposing inocculation, (which Mr. N. also disap- proved,) and in treating the diseased persons in a man- ner which almost wholly defeated the efforts of their me- dical attendants, a most extraordinary mortality prevail- ed ; the funerals during the year subsequent to Mr. N.'s removal amounting to more than twice tlie number regis- tered in any former year. Through shameful negligence and mismanagement, the disease was also communicated to the inhabitants of Ravenstone : and a poor woman, dis- rhai ging her duties as a midwife, was subjected to infec- 1780.] WESTON UNDERWOOD. 153 tion, in a manner which I can scarcely now reflect upon without indignation. After a short season of exquisite suffering, she died without any eruption appearing ; and, being assured by the apothecary who attended her, that the small pox was not her complaint, I preached a funeral sermon for her to a large congregation from all the adja- cent villages ; the corpse being in the church during the service. But, soon after, every person who had attend- ed her in her illness, and had not previously had the small pox, was taken ill with symptoms indicating that dis- ease. No words can express my anguish and conster- nation at this event. I took it for granted that numbers of the congregation at the funeral would soon shew signs of infection, and that my ill-judged zeal, in preaching on the occasion, would prove the means of spreading the dire disease widely in the neighbourhood, and thus furnish an opportunity for abundant reviling to the enemies of reli- gion. My alarm, however, was groundless : not one ad- ditional person by this means took the infection ; the ma- lady was not communicated to any other village ; it spread but little in Ravenstone ; and not one person died, ex- cept the poor woman who had brought the disease into the village.'' My father here enters, with more medical detail than might be generally interesting, into the history of the prevalence of the small pox at Ravenstone, and of the goal fever at Stoke. His observation just made that the former disease ^^ spread but little at Ravenstone,'' seems to refer only to cases of infection. Instances of inoculation appear to have been numerous : and, as he had little con- fidence in the neighbouring apothecaries, and none in the nurses, who adhered to the exploded method of treat- ment, he, of his own instance, called in Dr. Kerr, and " under him," he says, "\ was physician, apothecary, U 154 CLOSING PERIOD AT [ClIAP. VII. and almost nurse. 1 iiioculatcd none, but some inoculat- ed their neiglil)oui^, and I subsequently directed their proceedings. Nearly all my time was for some weeks employed. Meanwhile violent clamour was raised against me, and threatenings of an alarming nature were uttered, because I would keep the windows open in the rooms where the diseased persons lay, and would allow those patients, who were able, to walk out in their gardens, oi' at the back of the village." On the subject of inoculation itself he had also great difHculties to contend with. Two of his own family (his only surviving child and an orphan nephew,) had not had the small pox. He himself was '* always an ad vocate"' for inoculation, but " the prejudices of num- bers of religious persons in the neighbourhood were ex- ceedingly strong against it." If he should adopt it, he knew that his conduct '* would be severely arraigned by many, and others would have a powerful influence. On these grounds alone he hesitated." Yet, while thus cir- cumstanced, he constantly attended the sick, as above de- scribed. " I kept (he says) an old suit of clothes in a hovel at Ravenstone, and before I went among the sick I changed all my clothes in the hovel, and I did the same again before I returned home. Yet I still thought that I hardly did my duty to my family." At length, therefore, he had the children inoculated, and procured them lodg- ings at Ravenstone. " They passed through the disorder very well, but during their residence at that place (he proceeds,) 1 met with some instances of such base ingrati- tude, in respect of this affair, from those whom I had most laboured to serve, that, in a very ill humour, I re- turned home one evening, deliberately resolved to go no more among the people, but to leave them to the conse- quences of their perverseness. While cherishing this deter- 1780.] WESTON UNDERWOOD. 155 mination, the words of the apostle, Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good, occurred to my recollection in a manner which I shall never forget. I am no friend to sug- gestions or impressions, in the general sense of the terms ; but I cannot doubt, that this most excellent scriptural ad- monition, so exactly suited to the state of my mind, was brought to my remembrance by the Holy Spirit. (See John xiv. 26.) It at once set me right ; and converted my murmurings into humble confessions, thankful praises, and fervent prayers. I persevered in my work and la- bour of love, and the event proved highly gratifying and creditable. I never in my life spent so much time, with such earnestness, in secret and social prayer, as during this trying season ; and every prayer seemed to be an- swered and exceeded. I had my vexations : but I would gladly go through them all again, if I might enjoy the same proportion of consolation, and get as much good to my own soul, and be an instrument of as much good to others, as at that time. " When all had terminated prosperously respecting the malady, and calumny on that ground was silenced, a clamour of a widely different nature was raised. ' A poor curate, with a family, had spent in medicines and wine, and given in money, what was enough to ruin him !' Some of the persons concerned as parish officers, or hav- ing influence in parish affairs, might easily, and ought certainly, to have set this right. I have no doubt that a very large sum was saved to the parish, yet the officers paid nothing which they could refuse, not even the well- deserved fee to Dr. Kerr. Medicines, wine, and money, when urgently wanted, were supplied by me exclusive- ly : on subsequent occasions I was generally, and some- times liberally aided by friends : but at this time all stood aloof. The expence, however, was far less than was com- 156 CLOSING PERIOD AT [ChAP. VII. uiojily supposed, except that of my time ; which, if cal- culated at its pecuniary value, might be cousiderahle, but caTi never be better employed than in gratuitously endea- vouring to do good : and, as soon the objection just men- tioned was raised, I received 15/. 5s. from persons at a distance, unknown to me at the time, and from whom 1 never before or afterwards received any thing. This more than lepaid all'my disbursements, and convinced me, ihat there is 7io risk in expending money ^ in an urgent casej and from good motives ; and that a penuriuos prudence^ springing from weak faith, is impolicy as well as sin, " Soon after these events a circumstance took place at Stoke, with which I was in some measure concerned, (though not then connected with the parish,) and which appears to me to suggest important cautions. A poor man, with a large family, was allowed by his baker to run into his debt to the amout of 10/. ; for which he then arrested him, foolishly supposing the overseers would pay the money, rather than suffer the man to be thrown into prison. They, of course, disappointed his expecta- tion : the debtor was sent to Aylesbury gaol ; where the goal-fever then prevailed. He took that dire disease. His wife went to see and nurse him : he died : she returned home, sickened, and died : the malady spread in the village, sparing the children, but proving fatal to the parents. The neighbouring apothecaries in vain attempted to stop its progress. I also ventured into the recesses of misery and infection, and in a few in- stances tried my medical skill, as well as gave spiri- tual counsel. But I soon found that the case baflled all my efforts. I believe forty children had been be- reft of one parent, and nearly twenty of both. I knew the overseer : I went to him, and remonstrated with him, on the grounds not only of mercy and humani- 1780.] WESTON UNDERWOOD. 157 ty, but of policy ; and succeeded in convincing him^ that no medical expence which could be incurred was likely to burden the parish a tenth part so much, as this fatal progress of the disease was doing. I pre- vailed with him therefore to send immediately for Dr. Kerr, who came and spent nearly a whole day in the service ; and he laid down such rules for the manage- ment of the patients, that not one afterwards died, and the disease was speedily extirpated. " The same fever had broken out in the goal at Northampton, as well as at Aylesbury : but Dr. Kerr having, as a surgeon in the army, had much experi- ence in diseases of this nature, in camps, garrisons, and military hospitals, so effectually counteracted it, that it was soon expelled, and few deaths occurred." It may be remarked, that Dr. Kerr formed so favoura- ble an opinion of my father's medical talent^ that he fre- quently urged him to change his profession, and would never himself give his directions to any other person when he was present. He proceeds : " For myself, I was much exposed to infection in this case, but I was preserved : and I never on any occasion received harm from visiting persons af- flicted with infectious disorders, except in one instance, in which I had a very severe fever : but I was mercifully carried through it. " In this instance, which happened, I believe, before those above related, an incident occurred, on which I never can reflect without astonishment : but I venture my credit for veracity on the exact truth of it. A poor man, most dangerously ill, of whose religious state I entertained some hopes, seemed to me in the agonies of death. I sat by his bed for a considerable time, expecting to see him expire : but at length he awoke [5b CLOSING PERIOD AT [ChAP. VII. as from sleep, «ind noticed me. I said, ' You are ex- tremely ill.' He replied, ^ Yes ; but I shall not die this time/ I asked the ground of this extraordinary confi- dence, saying that I was persuaded he would not recover. To this he answered : ' I have just dreamed that you, with a very venerable-looking person, came to me. He asked you^ what you thought of me. ^ What kind of tree is it ? Is there any fruit ?' You said, ' No : but there are blossoms.' ' Well then/ he said^ ' I will spare it a little longer.' All reliance upon such a dream, I should, in other circumstances, have scouted as enthusi- asm and presumption : but it so exactly met my ideas as to the man's state of mind, — which, however, I had never communicated to him ; and the event, much beyond all expectation, so answered his confidence, by his recovery ; that I could not but think there was something peculiar in it. " On his recovery, this man for a time went on very well : but afterwards he gave up all attention to religion, and became very wicked : and, when I reminded him of what has been now related, he treated the whole with in- diiference ; not to say, with profane contempt. But I have since learned, from very good authority, that, after I left that part of the country, he was again brought under deep conviction of sin ; recollected and dolefidly bemoaned his conduct towards me, and with respect to his dream ; and became a decidedly religious character : and. if this be true, his case certainly furnishes a most striking instance, as of the force of human depravity, so also of the long suffering and tender mercy of our God. I believe he is still living at Stoke Goldington. •*' After Mr. Newton had left Olney about a year, his j)redictions concerning his successor were amply verified : 1780.] WESTON UNDERWOOD. 159 for? having embroiled himself with the parishioners^ and acted in such a manner as to incur public rebuke from the Archdeacon at the visitation, the curate, at length, in a pettish letter to the Earl of Dartmouth, patron of the living, threatened to relinquish his charge. He prob- ably did not mean to be taken at his word ; but his Lord- ship, communicating with the vicar, his implied resigna- tion of the curacy was admitted, and a deputation, inclu- ding some of the persons who before opposed my succeed- ing Mr. Newton, was sent to me, earnestly requesting me to accept the vacant situation. I felt great reluctance to comply, hesitated for some time, and w ent to London to consult those ministers with whom I had any acquaint- ance. They all considered it as my duty to accede to the proposal ; which I accordingly did. But, as soon as the late curate of Olney knew that I was appointed, and had in consequence resigned Ravenstone, he applied to the vicar, and was accepted as my successor there ! Had I foreseen this, I should not have consented to remove to Olney : for I knew that he had still many admirers in that place, and I was at first full of sad apprehensions as to the effect of his smooth and soothing doctrines on my Ra- venstone people. But I could now do no more than pray, Lord^ turn the counsel of Jihitophel into foolish- ness ! — for I considered a more segacious opposer th^an the visible one, as the author of this measure. — A tempo- rary confusion and vexation, almost beyond description, ensued : but it was not long before all terminated credit- ably and comfortably. " The curacy of Olney was only 30/. a year and a house, with rather better surplice fees than at Ravenstone. For that curacy I had received 40/. a year, and some as- sistance which I could not expect to retain ; and, as be- fore observed, I lived rent-free at Weston : so that the 160 RESIDENCE [ChAP. VII. change which I now made was not, in the first instance, to my secular advantage. The people of Olney, how- ever, hadheen accustomed to raise a suhscription for Mr. Newton, without any solicitation ; and the managing persons promised to do the same for me. But discontent soon arose : the leading characters did not act : others did not come forward : and I was decidedly averse to so- liciting any party : so that for a year and a half I receiv- ed less than my former income. I was often greatly straitened, and sometimes discouraged : but I persevered in every service of the church to which the people had been accustomed, and which was practicable, though it was much more than could be demanded. I particular, I continued the weekly lecture, though very poorly at- tended. ^^ And here I would mention, that, after I decidedly em- braced my present views of the gospel, and of the Chris- tian ministry, I constantly preached two weekly lectures, one in each of my parishes, without any remuneration. My congregations were small, but very select : at Raven- stone, on an average, not more than forty ; afterwards at Olney, (though that town contained about two thousand five hundred inhabitants) seldom above fifty or sixty ; and at Weston, often under thirty. Yet I have reason to think that these services were peculiarly blessed to others, and they were especially comfortable to my own soul. Most of my few hearers I considered as my chil- dren ; and I gave them, w ith much feeling and affection, many very particular instructions, cautions, and admoni- tions, which 1 could hardly have introduced into addresses to more general congregations, and for which the one, or perhaps two sermons on the Lord's day did not allow suf- ficient time. Were I now situate in a village or neigh- bourhood, in which twenty or thirty people would prob- 1781 1785.] AT OLNEY. 161 ably attend, I certainly should preach a constant week-day lecture, even to so mall a company*. In this respect, I think, many pious ministers, esteeming it hardly worth while to preach to a few, forget the iuKaipcec, ^^^.tpa^, of the apostlef, and lose a most important opportunity of edify- ing their little flock in their most holy faith. They preach the gospel on the Sunday, at large ; but they do not attend to our Saviour's words, teaching theyn (their converts) to observe all things whatsoever I have com- manded you. " Notwithstanding difficulties, I, in one way or other, supported my credit at Olney . But I was here surrounded with numerous and most distressed poor persons, for whom Mr. Newton's more abundant resources, derived from affluent friends, had enabled him to do considerable things : J and this added to my embarrassment. They were sensible, however, of my different situation, and I must say expressed satisfaction and thankfulness for the far more scanty aid which I could afford them. " After I had been at Olney about a year and a half, Lady Austen, having come to visit her sister, who was married to the Rev. Mr. Jones, curate of the adjacent village of Clifton, proposed to take my first floor, and some other accomodation which I could conveniently spare : and she accordingly became an inmate at the vicarage. * In fact, my father did so atAston during a great part of the year. t *' In season, out of season." 2 Tim. iv. 2. % " Be hospitable, said Mr. Thornton, and keep an open house for such as are worthy of entertainment : help the poor and needy: I will statedly allow you 200/ a year, and readily send whatever you have occasion to draw for more. — M. N. lold me, that he thought he had received of Mr. Thornton upwards of 3000/. in this way, during the time he resided at Olney." — Life of Newton, liv Cecil. m X 162 RESIDENCE [ChAP. VII. This added 10/. a year to my income, and saved me some expences." It ap])ears from Cowpers letters, as published by Mr. Hayley, that Lady Austen entered upon her lodgings at the vicarage in the autumn of 1782, soon after the birth of my father's fifth child. This child, a son, lived only six months. It was born with a mark upon the face, ex- tending over one eye, which turned to a sore, and ^^' after several distressing weeks'' ended in mortification. Its death I find thus announced by Mr Cowper, writing to Mr. Newton, February 8, 1783. ^* Mr. S—'s la,st child is dead. It lived a little while in a world of which it knew nothing, and is gone to another in which it is al- ready bocome wiser than the wisest it h;is left behind. — The earth is a grain of sand, but the interests of man are commensurate with the heavens.''* — My father says of it, writing to a friend, " He was a gi'eat sufferer, and we had in him a great and needful trial ; but the issue was mercy. We have, I trust, three in heaven, and have cause for thankfulness." I find from the letter just quoted, that, soon after this event, my father visited his relations in Lincolnshire, and derived much satisfaction from his journey. '^ I found my friends more cordial, and more disposed to give me a patient hearing than I expected, and some of them treading the ways of the Lord ; others somewhat hopeful. I had a door of utterance opened unto me beyond expec- tation, and returned home full of sanguine hopes that some good would i)e done by my journey. This, it seems, was more than my poor foolisli heart could bear: there needed some bitter to counteract all this sweet. Therefore, my wise and kind physician, (having in mercy brought mc *Vol. III. Let. 69. 1781 1785.] AT OLNEY. 163 home first,) immediately discerning the danger, applied the remedy : and I am very base if I do not heartily thank him for it.'' — This remedy was a severe attack of his asth- matic complaint, " with several relapses.'' He proceeds in his narrative : " After Lady Austen had been with me for a short time, she learned the cir- cumstances respecting the subscription promised, but not raised for me : and she found that several of the inhabi- tants were disposed cheerfully to contribute, if any one would collect their contributions. In consequence, she herself, together with her brother-in-law, Mr. Jones, without my solicitation or knowledge, undertook to set the business forward. And from this time a regular sub- scription was raised, small indeed in itself, and compared with what it had formerly been, but sufficient to be a great relief to me, and to lay me under obligations, which^ I fear, I never w^as able to compensate in the manner most agreeable to my desires and prayers. " In the vicarage- house at Olney, during Lady Austen's residence there, most of those events, which are recorded in the life of Cowper, as pertaining to this period, oc- curred. Here ' the Task' w^as imposed and undertaken. Here ' John Gilpin' was told as a story, in prose, and the plan formed of giving it circulation in verse. Some things in the published account are not very accurately stated, as I know^, who saw the springs which moved the machine, and which could not be seen by a more distant spectator, or mere visitant. — After some time the cordiality between Mrs. Unwin and Mr. Cowper, on the one part, and Lady Austen, on the other, was interrupted ; and my lodger suddenly left me, to my no small regret." During her continuance at Olney, Mr. Hayley observes, the three friends " might be almost said to make one fa- mily, as it became their custom to dine always together. 1G4 UESiDENCE [Chap. VfL alteniaU'ly in tlic houses of the two ladies :*' and it was in order to faciliUite this constiint intercourse, that a door was opened in the vicarage garden wall towards the back of Mr. Cowpcr's ])remises. '*• After Lady Austen left Olney/' my father says, *^ I was induced to receive into my family a young lady from London, of the name of Gines, afterwards married to John Barber, Esq. This proved, I trust, an important event, in the best sense, to her, and through her to her family; as well as eventually to myself. She continued with me about two years, till my removal to London, and during the latter part of the time she was joined by hei' younger sister, subsequently the wife of the late Rev. Ste- phen Langston, Rector of Little Horwood, Bucks. '^ When I published the ' Force of Truth,' I had never attended to any controversies concerning church government, or any kindred subjects. I found myself a minister of the establishment, and, as I saw no suflicient leason to relinquish my station, I was satisfied that it was my duty to retain it. But, soon after, the controversy concerning baptism,'' whether it should be admin- istered to infants, or only to adults professing faith, ^' fell in my way ; and, for some time, I was almost ready to conclude, that the antipsedobaptists were right. This gave me great uneasiness : not because I was solicitous whether, in the search after truth, I were led among them or elsewhere ; but because I feared being misled ; and deprecated following my publication with a further and fieedlcss change, which might bring discredit upon it. — Many, very many prayers, accompanied with tears, did I pour out on this subject. 1 read books on both sides of the question, but received no satisfaction. I became even afraid of administering baptism or the Lord's sup- per. But I said so myself, ^ He that believeth shall ?iot 1781 1785.] AT OLNEY. 165 7nake haste : I must retain my station^ till I have taken time to examine the subject fully : and I must in the mean time do what retaining that station requires.' — It is remarkable that, in this instance alone, my wife appear ed greatly distressed, in the prospect of my changing my sentiments. — At length I laid aside all controversial writings, and determined to seek satisfaction on this ques- tion, as I had on others, by searching the scriptures and prayer. I was no less time than three quarters of a year engaged in this investigation, before I came to a conclu- sion : but I was then so fully satisfied that the infant children of believers, and of all who make a credible profession of faith, are the proper subjects of baptism, that I have never since been much troubled about it. " This was my conclusion, especially from the identity of the covenant made with Abraham, and that still made with believers ; and from circumcision being the sacra- ment of regeneration under the old dispensation, as bap- tism is under the new, and the seal of the righteousness of faith. — Abraham received this seal long after he be- lieved ; Isaac, when an infant ; Ishmael, when thirteen years of age. The men of Abraham's household, and Esau, though uninterested in the promises concerning Canaan, yet, as a part of Abraham's family, and of the visible church, were circumcised by the command of God himself. The circumcision of infants was enjoined, with denunciations of wrath against those who neglected it. The apostles were Israelites, accustomed to this system. Adult gentiles were admitted among the Jews by circum- cision, and their male children were circumcised also. In Christ, there is neither male nor female. — Had only adults been designed to be the subjects of Christian bap- tism, some prohibition of admitting infants would have been requisite ; and we should never have read, as we Hi6 TtESIDENCK [CmAT. VII. do, ol* fwiiscltnhls heing baptized, without any limitation or exception of tliis kind being intimated. — In short, unless it ean be proved that circumcision was not the sign, or sacrament, of regeneration, even as baptism now is, I cannot see how the argument can be answered : and all the common objections against inftint-baptism, as ad- ministered to subjects incapable of the professions re- quired and the benefits intended, bear with equal force against infant-circumcision. " The conclusion, thus drawn, rests not on this one ground alone : collateral proof was not, and is not, over- looked : but my idea always was, that not the privilege of the infant, but the duty of the parent, is the grand thing to be ascertained : and this clears away much ex- traneous matter from the argument. '* To the question of immersion, or sprinkling, or pour- ing, I never attached any great importance. Immersion is doubtless baptism : and so is sprinkling, or pouring, according to my unvaried judgment. If a few texts seem to allude to baptism by figures taken from immersion, how many speak of the baptism of the Holy Spirit, under the idea oi poKring out upon us ? "" The investigation of this controversy brought a va- riety of other subjects under my consideration, of which I had not before at all thought. I met with many objec- tions to the established church, which I was no compe- tent to answer, exce])t by reciprocal objections to many things in use among our opponents, which I thouglit at least e(jually unscriptural. In this unsettled state of mind I was induced, by the following means, to preach irregidarly. *• On becoming curate of Olnev, I was asked to preach some annual sermons which Mr. Newton had been used to preach : and this brought me acquainted with several 1781 1785.] AT ©LNEY. 167 families, chiefly iu Northampton and the neighbor irhood, in which he had expounded to private companies. When I had ventured on this rather irregular service, (in wliich I had not before been engaged, ) I Vv as drawn on further and further, till I was led to preach frequently (always on the week-days,) in houses and other private buildings; commonly to numerous congregations. This service was in no degree advantageous to me, in a secular point of view, but the contrary ; and the state of my health, op- pressed with most distressing asthma, far beyond what I have now for many years experienced, rendered it ex- tremely self-denying. I often rode seventy or eighty miles, and preached four or five sermons, between Mon- day morning and Thursday noon, (for I always returned to my week-day lectures,) while more than half the night I sat up in bed, in strange houses, unable to lie down from oppression of breath, and longing for the morning : and, on my return home, and sometimes while from home, the remedies which I was obliged to employ were of the most unpleasant nature.'' One of the painful " remedies,'' to which my father's bilious and asthmatic complaints compelled him, at this period, and for many years after, to have very frequent recourse, was strong antimonial emetics. Another may be learned from the following passage of Mr. Cowper's letters. " Mr. S has been ill almost ever since you left us, and last Saturday, as on many foregoing Satur- days, was obliged to clap on a blister, by way of prepa- ration for his Sunday labours. He cannot draw breath upon any other terms. — If holy orders were always con- ferred upon such conditions, I question but even bish- opricks themselves would want an occupant. But he is easy and cheerful."* * Vol. iii. Letter 81 : to Rev. J. Newton, Sep. 8, 1783. I OS HESIDENCK [Chap. VII. My father proceeds concerning these irregular engage- ments : ** I am not conscious that amhition was my mo- tivcj though it might intermingle : but I hope that zeal lor the honour of Christ, and love to souls influenced me. I felt no consciousness of blame in what I did, nor per- ceived, that, in order to consistency, it was needful for me to choose one ground or the other, and act either as a clergyman of the establishment, or as one who had re- ceded from it. I had abundant proof that my irregular exertions were attended with much success : and I did not, as I have subsequently done, see much reason to doubt, whether the evident usefulness of these labours, in many individual instances, was not counterbalanced by the hindrances which such proceedings throw in the way of other ministers, and candidates for the ministry, and by the general obloquy which they entail upon the whole body of clergy, in other respects agreeing in sentiment with the pei^ons who thus deviate from established order. This consideration, taken alone, would probably induce me, with my present views, to decline such services, even were I placed in my former circumstiuices : but it did not then occur to me. Gradually, however, I be- came more sensible of the inconsistency and impropriety of attempting to unite things in themselves discordant, and more attached to the established church : so that, after I had been a few years in London, I refused to preach irregularly, except as once in the year I consented to ex- change pulpits with Mr. Hill of Surry Chapel, that be- ing the stipulated condition of his preaching a charity- sermon for the Lock Hospital : and, when I took my pre- sent living (before which I could not be said, after I came to London, to have any thing directly from the church,) I immediately refused to do this also, and deter- mined no more to deviate from regularity. 1781—1785.] AT OLNEY. 169 '' I do not say this as blaming those who once belonged to the establishment^ but have since been induced to la- bour in a different part of the vineyard ; but merely as accounting for my own conduct ; and as bearing my de- cided testimony against the practice^ at present not com- mon, of holding a living and yet preaching irregularly. The reason applies, in good measure, in respect of cura- cies and lectureships ; but not with equal force. As to those who have nothing of the kind, neither livings, lec- tureships, nor curacies, and who preach at one time in a licensed meeting-house, or elsewhere, and in a church at another time ; I would do the same, were I a dissent- ing minister, if I were permitted to do it. The veto be- longs to the bishop, not the 7iolo to the preacher.'' The justness of most of these observations commends them at once to our approbation. On two points, how- ever, I am not able to discern the fairness of the dis- tinctions made. I know of no engagements into which an incumbent enters to comply with established order, which are not also virtually made by a curate or a lecturer : nor can I readily admit, that he who holds a situation as a minister, only by virtue of his being a clergyman of the established church, can be said to " have nothing from the church," in such a sense as to be free from its rules, and from the engagements which he formed on being ad- mitted to holy orders. It appears to me, that whoever avails himself of his clerical character continues under the engagements which he made in order to acquire it. Though, however, I thus venture to question the cor- rectness of my father's reasoning on this particular point, I am confidant that it was perfectly satisfactory to his own mind, and implied no sort of subterfuge or evasion. Be- yond all doubt he viewed things just as he here states them. Y 170 RESIDENCK [ChAP. VII. In connexion with this discussion on irregular minis- trations, the reader may perhaps not he displeased to have placed before him what has always appeared to me a very excellent passage, on itinerant preaching, ex- tracted from my fathers Commentary on 2 Chronicles xvii. — ^* Notwitstanding the prejudices of mankind, and the indiscretions of individuals, an itinerant preacher^ if duly qualified and sent forth? is one of the most honour- able and useful characters, that can be found upon earth : and there needs no other proof that, when this work is done properly and with perseverance, it forms the grand method of spreading widely, and rendering efficacious, religious knowledge, than the experience of the church in all ages ; for great reformations and revivals of religion have generally been thi:s effected. It is especially sanc- tioned by the exar^iple of Christ and his apostles, and re- commended as the divine method of spreading the gospel through the nations of the earth ; itinerant preaching having almost always preceded, and made way for, the stated ministry of regular pastors. But it is a work which requires peculiar talents and dispositions, and a peculiar call in providence ; and is not rashly and hastijy to be ventured upon by every novice, who has learned to speak about the gospel, and has more zeal, than knowledge, prudence, humility, or ex])erience. An unblemished character, a disinterested spirit, an exemplary deadness to the world, unaffected humility, deep acquaintance with the human heart, and prepai-ation for enduring the cross, not only with boldness, but with meekness, patience, and sweet- ness of temper, are indispensably necessary in such a ser- vice. They who engage in it should go upon broad scriptural grounds, and dwell chiefly upon those grand essentials of religion, in which pious men of different per- suasions are agreed ; plainly proving every thing from 1781—1785.] ATOLNEY. 171 the word of God, running nothing into extremes, and avoiding all disputes, however urged to it, about the shih- holeths of a party. In this way itinerant preaching is a blessing which all, who love the souls of men, must wish to be vouchsafed to every part of every nation upon earth. Afid, if those who are in authority would employ select men of known and approved piety and ability, protected and countenanced by them, to go from city to city* and from village to village, through the kingdom, teaching in every place the plain acknowledged truths and precepts of the Bible, immense good might be done. Those stated teachers, who have been grossly negligent or pro- fligate, must either be disgraced or reformed ; others might be stirred up to use greater diligence ; and the in- structions of stated faithful ministers would receive an ad- ditional sanction, which could not fail of producing a happy eilfect.'' — It may be observed that at the period of the Reformation, in the reign of Edward VI, a practice of this sort existed in our church, under the sanction of authority. Six eminent persons (of whom John Knox was one, were appointed to go through various districts of the kingdom as preachers :* and that such an office was not continued has proabably been a great loss to our church. I have heard a wise and excellent clergyman lately de- ceased, who was always a strict adherent to order, la- ment the mismanagement of things in the church of England, as compared with some other establishments. Had Whitfield and Wesley ( he said, ) arisen in the Church of Rome, that hierarchy would have given scope to their zeal, and yet have made it conduce to the support of the church, instead of being exercised to its subversion. * Burnett and Strype. See M'Crie's Life of Knox, aniio 1551. 172 RESIDENCE [ClIAP. VII. Before we quit this subject, I would observe, that one instance of the usefuhiess of my father's irregular lal)ours, while he resided in Buckinghamshire, is entitled to par- ticular specification. It was thus announced to him by his old and valued friend the Rev. Dr. Ryland of Bristol, about a month before his last illness. '^ What led mc to write now, was a letter I received from Dr. Carey yes- terday, in which he says, ' Pray give my thanks to dear Mr. Scott for his History of the Synod of Dort. I would write to him if I could command time. If there be any thing of the work of God in my soul, I owe much of it to his preaching, when I first set out in the ways of the Lord.' '' And the following is my father's reply in his last letter to Dr. R., dated Feb. 13, 1821. " I am surprised as well as gratified at your message from Dr. Carey. He heard me preach only a few^ times, and that as far as I know, in my rather irregular excursions : though I often conversed and prayed in his presence, and endeavoured to answer his sensible and pertinent enqui- ries, when at Hackleton. But to have suggested even a single useful hint to such a mind as his, may be consider- ed as a high privilege, and matter of gratitude. Send my kindest remembrance to him when you write." It can hardly be necessary to observe, that the person referred to is the distinguished baptist missionary in Ben- gal, who is perhaps better entitled than any other indivi- dual to the praise of having given the first hnpidse to the extraordinary exertions of the present age, for the pro- pagation of Christianity in the world. I well remember the late Rev. Andrew Fuller reporting, at my father's house, in the year 1792, the impression which had been made upon an association-meeting of his own denomination, by Mr. Carey's sermon, on the address to the church, (Isaiah liv. 2,) Lengthen thy cords, and strengthen thy stakes; 1781— -1785.] AT GLNEY. 173 from which he pressed the two propositions that we should expect great things, and attempt great things. Hence originated the Baptist Missionary Society. The London Missionary Society followed ; then the Church Missionary Society ; then the Bible Society ; and, in succession, va- rious other institutions, all, we trust, destined to contri- bute their share to that great and blessed consummation^ " By prophecy's unerring finger mark'd To faith's strong eye." " During this term of my life," my father proceeds, *^ I was called on, in consequence of its being impracti- cable for the Rev. Henry Venn and the Rev. Thomas Robinson to perform a service designed for one of them, to preach a funeral sermon at Creaton, in Northampton- shire, for the Rev. Mr. Maddox, who had laboured there very usefully for several years. The day was very wet, and I rode twenty miles in a heavy rain to the service, and the same in returning from it : yet during the time of service it was fair. The concourse of people was very great, and the church very small. I ventured to go into the church-yard, where I preached to at least two thou- sand five hundred persons. The congregation was atten- tive to a degree seldom witnessed : and for twenty years after the effects of that sermon were not forgotten, even if they now are. On the following Sunday, I preached twice in the same church-yard to nearly as large congre- gations : but I never, on any other occasion preached in the open air. '' In this connexion an incident may be introduced which occurred at an early period, but my part in which only now became known, in one of my excursions into Northamptonshire . " As far back as the year 1776, the Northampton 174 UKSiDENcK [Chap. VII. newspaper, during several successive weeks, contained sharp disputations papers between two parties of the in- dependent dissenters, beloni^ng to the meeting of which Dr. Doddridge Ijod formerly been minister. I felt much displeased with the spirit manifested in these papers ; and I wrote (under what signature I do not now remem- ber.) a letter shewing the bad tendency of such discus- sions in a public print, and of these mutual criminations of persons professing; s^odlimss ; concluding with the apostle's words. If^i/f" bite and devour one another, take heed that ye he not consumed one of another, ^^ (Gal. v. 15.) The consequence was, that in the next newspaper both parties entreated the writer to come forward, and be the umpire of their differences ! Little did they think how incompetent he was for such an arduous office, or suspect his youth and inexperience. — I took no notice of this proposal. The publisher of the paper declared his purpose of inserting no more on the subject : the dispute was so far quashed : and, though many conjectures were formed, the writer of the letter was never known till some time after I had removed to Olney. But, being then at Northampton, where I lectured in a private fa- mily, I in the course of conversation told some of the principal persons that I had written the letter : and had the satisfaction to hear them allow, that it had indeed proved a word in season^ In the summer 1783, while curate of Olney, my father made a visit to Shropshire, in company v>'ith his highly esteemed friend the Rev. John Mayor, Vicar of Shaw- bury near Shrewsbury ; and was there confined with a very dangerous illness of some weeks'' continuance. As an extract of a letter from Mr. Mayor, written since my fathers death, records this event, so distressing at the time to his absent family, and will also serve as an intro- 1781 — 1785.] A-r olney. 175 duction to some letters which are to follow^ 1 shall here insert it. " My first aquaintance with your father was, when Mr. Charles of Bala and I were undergraduates, and spent our long vacation at Olney, soon after Mr. New- ton's acquaintance commenced with him. I paid my first visit to him the beginning of September, 1782, when greatly disturbed with scruples about baptising the chil- dren of the openly profane. His integrity in declining preferment some years before, from scruples respecting the Athanasian Creed, induced me to take a journey of a hundred miles to consult him, when travelling was very painful to me. — Before I could open my distress on ac- count of baptizing, 1 was led by the assertions of Mr. R to say somewhat on the mistakes which many in my neighbourhood, called Calvinists, ran into, respecting points supposed to be Calvin's doctrine, which were at- tended with the worst effects on their tempers and con- duct. Sin was considered by them as a pitiable infirmity, rather than as deserving wrath and condemnation. The character of God was clouded ; and the glory of redemp- tion, and the dispensation we are under by the gospel, not acknowledged to the comfort of returning sinners. This led into many discussions afterwards, which made your father say, that he thought my scruples about bap- tism were permitted, to bring us together for the purpose I of opening our minds to each other on subjects which re- j quired explanation. I had my scruples removed by a j single sentence. Your father said, ' the right of chil- ! dren to baptism is not their parents' faith, but the profes- sion of it, so far as to bring them to the ordinance.' Archbishop Leighton was of the same mind. — Mr. Scott returned with me, after a second visit to Olney, in the aammer of 1783. He was not well soon after we left 176 RESIDENCE [ ChAP. VII. Oliiey ; and, before we reached ShifFnal, he was oblidg- ed to lie down at a little ale-house, while I sent for a chaise, and thus conveyed him to Shiffnalj and thence to Shawhiiry. His life was despaired of : but it pleased God to bless the physician's prescriptions, and, after almost a month's illness, he rapidly acquired strength, and preached for me the last Sunday twice, if not three times. I drove him back in my gig to Olney, recover- ing strength every step of his journey. He had given me directions to make his will, and intended to leave me executor, to print such of his papers as I should think advisable : a great honour, which I bless God I was re- lived from enjoying by the happy turn given to the state of his health. I rejoice in the many useful years he since spent upon earth, to the edification of his own, and, I trust, of future generations. I paid him several other visits at Olney, in one of which I buried, at Weston, an infant child of his, a few months old. I missed hardly any opportunity of paying my respects to him at Lon- don, and at Aston Sandford. I always highly respected his understanding, as of the first order : his humility in searching for, and readiness in receiving truth from such as were far inferior to him in every thing : his great sin- cerity, prudence, and uniform zeal for the glory of God, and the salvation of souls. — He was cheerful, with gravi- ty : and never seemed to lose sight of the great business of life, to glorify God, and edify his brethren, and all about him." At Olney my father published a Thanksgiving Sermon on the close of the American war, preached July 29, 1784 ; and, about nine months afterwards, his Discourse on Repentance. Of the latter he thus speaks in his nar- rative. •* The Discourse on Repentance was first preached as 1781—1785.] AT OLNEY. 177 a sermon to a very small congregation at Olney, and af- terwards to a very large congregation (irregularly) at Paulerspury, in Northamptonshire, where it produced permanent eifects in several instances. I then wrote and enlarged it for the press, commonly with a child on my knee, or rocking the cradle, and my wife working by me : for a study and a separate fire were more than my purse would allow. I augued much usefulness from this work, as did my wife also, far more than from the ' Force of Truth :' yet, having printed seven hundred and fifty copies, and given away at least a hundred, I do not think the rest of the impression would ever have been sold, had I continued at Olney. Even of the ' Force of Truth,' ten years elapsed before the first edition, con- sisting of a thousand copies, was disposed of; though now nearly that number is usually sold in a year.* But several persons, who expressed much approbation of that work, decidedly opposed the Discourse on Repent- ance.— So discouraging a beginning had my labours from the press !'' * Six thousand copies of a cheap edition have been sold with- in the last six months. 2 178 CORRESPONDEKCE. [ChAP. Vlll. it lif. CHAPTER Vlll. CORRESPONDENCE DURING THE PERIOD OF THE PRE- CEDING CHAPTER. Such is the narrative which my father lias left of the principal occiirrences during his residence at Olney. 1 shall now present extracts of his correspondence which may illustrate the course of events, or the progress of his mind, at that period. Olney, it will readily he conceived from facts which have already met the reader's eye, notwithstanding its having been favoured with the rcvsidence and labours of Mr. Newton during sixteen years, was by no means, when my father removed to it, a very inviting scene of ministe- rial service. Indeed the temper manifested, when a suc- cessor was to be appointed to Mr. N. cannot fail to sur- prise and offend us ; and ought certainly, as my father intimates, to be borne in mind when his ministry there is under consideration. Olney, at that period, was a much divided place : the people were full of religious notions — of that "' knowledge which puffeth up,'' — while the ^^ love that edifieth'' was comparatively rare. There were, no doubt, many excellent Christian characters among them ; but, in general, the religion of the place was far from being of a suflicicntly practical character : and it cannot be doubted, that the exquisite candour and tenderness of Mr. N's. temper had failed of adequately 1779 1785.] CORRESPONDENCE. 179 counteracting the exist' ng tendency of things. Many indeed were nursed up to a morbid delicacy of feeling, which could not bear the faithful application of scriptural admonitions, even by his gentle hand, without expostula- tion and complaint. There is the less need to scruple this statement, be- cause I trust, and it was my father's hope and belief, that the religious state of Olney is materially amended ; and that that town, in some degree, exhibits the rare ex- ample of a Christian community considerably recovered from a corrupt state, contracted by the abuse of the best principles. — The statement also seems due to the subject of these memoirs, and it will receive confirmation from what is now to follow. Of ray father's fir^t proposed removal to Olney, I find only the following brief notice, in a letter to his youngest sister, dated Weston, Sept. 28, 1779. — '' I have some thoughts of removing from this place to Olney. It will not be a very important advantage in worldly things ; but it will bring an additional care upon me of near two thousand souls. But the Lord will provide." In less than a month after this, the b\irst of opposition had taken place at Olney, and had produced its effect in disconcerting Mr. Newton's plan, as appears from a let- ter of his to my father, of the 19th of October, 1779. He says, " I am grieved as often as I think of the strange hasty spirit that discovered itself among my poor people, and which I fear has deprived them of the comfort and benefit I am persuaded they would have received from your ministry .1 could not foresee what happened : my disappointment and concern have been great, but I cannot help it." The mortification of this excellent man was not yet, however, at its height ; for the person whom his people actually pitched upon to succeed him 180 CORRESPONDENCE. [ChAP. VIII. was not yet in view, or at least was not known to him : for he forms other plans for them. — He concludes his letter in that strain of pious confidence in God which so much distinguished him. ^^ What a satisfaction it is to knowj that all things are at the Lord's disposal, and under his management ; and that, in a way heyond our appre- hension, he can and will over rule them for good. I can hardly now conjecture how I once lived, when I lived without God in the world. I was then in the situation of a ship at sea, exposed to storms, surrounded with rocks and quicksands, and without either pilot, rudder, or compass. Yet I was so stupid that I apprehended no danger. But surely, with the views I now have of human life, I should be quite miserable, should soon sink under the pressure of care and anxiety, if I were not invited, and in some measure enabled, to commit my ways and concerns to the Lord, who has promised to care for me. — I rejoice in the assurance, that he is and will hei/oiir guard and com- forter. My heart wishes you much peace and great suc- cess in his service. He is a good master, and his service, though not exempt from trials, is honourable and pleas- ant. So you find it : may you go on from strength to strength !" Another letter from the same hand, dated July 27, 1780, implies a return in some of the people of Olney to a better mind. '' I am glad you have opportunity of preaching sometimes at Olney. I hear more and more from thence of the concern many feel for the share they had in preventing your living among them. I hope the Lord will sanctify the present growing inconveniences^ they complain of, to humble and prove them, to shew them what is in their hearts, and to prepare them for a due improvement of a better supply hereafter." This letter also contains the first allusion that I find 1779 1785.] CORRESPONDENCE. 181 to my father's visits to Leicester^ where he contracted an intimate friendship with the late Rev. Thomas Robinson, and which town afterwards became to him a favourite place of resort. " I have lately had a visit^'^ Mr. N. says^ " from Mr. Ludlam, who brought me a letter from Mr. Robinson : so that I have heard of your visit to Lei- cester from others, as well as from yourself. I trust the Lord whom you serve is and will be with you, statedly and occasionally, abroad and at home.^' I persuade myself that I shall meet with ready indul- gence for introducing still further extracts from the let- ters of this justly beloved character, whose epistolary ex- cellence is also generally acknowledged. February 17, 1781, after my father had accepted the curacy of Olney, Mr. N. writes " Had the curacy of Ravenstone been at my disposal^ I should not have given it to Mr. . But such is the Lord's pleasure, and therefore it must be right. We agreed that Mr. had done'' (occasion- ed ) " some good at Olney. We shall find he will be useful in the same way at Ravenstone. . . . We are short-sighted, but the Lord sees things in all their conse- quences, and has views worthy of his wisdom, of which we are not aware. How often should we spoil his per- fect plan were we able : but it is our mercy, no less than his right, that he will do all his pleasure. Stand still and wait, and you shall at length admire the propriety of his management in all things. What can we desire bet- ter than an infallible guidance? ... In my Letters to a Nobleman you have descriptions of my heart's feelings and exercises, to which I can add little new. I am kept, but surely it is by the power of God, ^^ovgovfju^oi (1 Pet. i. 3.) is an emphatical word : it well expresses our situation. We are like a besieged city : the gates of hell, the powers of darkness, encompass us on every side ; but we are 182 CORRESPONDENCE. [CuAP. VIII. guarded, s;arriso7ied by the power of God. The name of tJie besieged city is, The Lor-d is there. Our defence and our supplies are from on high, and therefore cannot be intercepted. Our enemies may, they will fight, but they cannot prevail. The captain of our salvation knows all their plots, despises all their strength, can disconcert and discomfit them, and, whenever he pleases, compel them to raise the siege in a moment. We have a good promise, Isa. xxviii. 5, 6. So likewise the whole of Psalm xlvi I am daily with you in spirit : your comfort and your success are daily near my heart, and I am doubly interested in you, as we are both connected with Olney. . . The season of the year, as well as more important reasons, puts Horace's words often into my mouth, 0 rus, quando te aspiciam ? It must not be yet, but I hope the day will come, when we shall resume our walks, and revisit our favourite trees.'" The following is characteristic of the writer, and at the same time conveys the information, which my father's narrative has not given, that, on his resignation of the curacy of Ravenstone, unsuccessful attempts were made to deprive him of that of Weston also. '' March 31, 1781. My dear friend, I had written to you and my letter was going off, when your's came, and made mine unnecessary, by what you yourself said of the subjects I had in view. I then thought I would wait till 1 could congratidate you and Mrs. Scott and myself on your removal to Olney, which I hope I may now do. May the good, the great Shepherd dwell with you, (be your s;lory and defence) in your heart, house, and assem- blies ! I have been m\ich with you in spirit of late. My love to you, if you were in another place, and to the peo- ple of Olney, if they had another minister, would singly excite my attention and best wishes : at present these motives are united, and strengthen each other. 1779 1785.] CORRESPONDENCE. 183 ^^ Methinks I see you sitting in my old corner in the study. — I will warn you of one thing. That room (do not startj) used to be haunted. I cannot say I ever saw or heard any thing with my bodily organs, but I have been sure there were evil spirits init> and very near me : A spirit of folly, a spirit of indolence, a spirit of unbelief, and many others — 'indeed tlieir name is Legion, But why should I say they are in your study, when they fol- lowed me to London, and still pester me here ? I shall be glad, however, if your house be fairly rid of them. I am sure they were there once. I hope, likewise, you will have better company when you are there alone, more frequently than I had. I hope the Lord has sometimes favoured it with his gracious presence. I hope, if the walls have been witnesses of my complaints and shame, they have been likewise to my attempts to praise him, and to many prayers which I have oifered up for my suc- cessor, long before I knew who he was to be. May all, and more than all that I ever besought him for myself, be vouchsafed to you, and the blessings I have entreated for the people be afforded to them under your ministry ! " I understand the designs of those who would have deprived you of Weston have been defeated. It is there- fore the Lord's pleasure you should keep it for the pre- sent. In this view I ought to be, and am glad of it, as I know it was much upon your heart. Yet, had he ap- pointed otherwise, I should not have been so sorry, as you would probably have been at the first. However expe- dient and apparently necessary your serving Weston may seem, it may, perhaps, be the chief cause of inconvenience to you at Olney. When you are absent from home, the people will be under a continual temptation of mixing with those, who will do all in their power to prejudice them against you, at least against the chutrch. Such a iH-l CORRESPONDENCE. [ChAP. VIII. spirit I know is very prevalent. . . . It is possible like- wise that the Weston people may not always be content with one service a day. But I know your views and mo- tives are such as the Lord will bless. To day is our's : what is matter of future duty, He will make known in his time. I cannot doubt but your labours at Olney will be welcome and acceptable to the best of his peo- ple, and I cannot but hope He will raise you up a new people there, and cause you to rejoice in some over whom I have often mourned. You desired to follow his lead- ing, and I cannot believe he would have led you where you are, if he had not something important for you to do. Be of good courage, wait patiently his leisure, and he will give you the desire of your heart. ^' My mouth waters to come to you : but it cannot be till some time (I know not how long) after Easter. . . But all these things are in the Lord's hand. When I see the cloud taken up from the tabernacle, I shall be glad to move ; otherwise I dare not. I am so blind to consequences that I tremble at the thoughts of forming a plan for myself. — Your prayers will be among the means to help me for- ward. ... A thousand ifs may be suggested, but they are all in the Loitl's hand; and therefore, if\t be his will that I should visit you, nothing shall prevent it. If he sees it not expedient or proper, he will not send an angel to tell me so, but he will tell me by his providence. If he wills me to stay here, why should I wish to be some- where else ? If we were not prone to prefer our own will to his, we should never complain of a disappointment. This is the lesson I want to learn. I am so much at teach- ing it to others, that it might be supposed I had acquired it myself. But the Lord and my own heart know how far I am from having attained. ^' My love to your new people : I have not room to 1779 1785. J CORRESPONDENCE. 185 particularize namesj but I love them all. Believe me. your affectionate friend, John Newton." I have one more letter of Mr. Newton's to insert, and I shall introduce it here, though rather by anticipation. It is dated March 15, 1782. I think no reader would wish it omitted. ^^This morning I have hope of indulging myself in half an hour^s pen-chat, with my dear friend Mr. Scott ; a pleasure I could not have sooner, though the receipt of your's made me desirous of writing. I thought I had re- served time last Saturday, but unexpected company came in and ran away with it : and this is often the case. " I should have liked to have been with you at Leices- ter. I love the place, the sheep and the shepherd of that fold, and I love the friends and ministers you met there. I am glad you had pleasure and profit in your excursion. I can guess that the contrast you felt on your return was painful : for I likewise have been at Olney, and have preached once and again, when the congregation has reminded me of the scattered ships* of ^neas which survived the storm, — rari nantes in gurgite vasto. I likewise have preached at Leicester and Olney in the same week, and been conscious of the difference both in numbers and attention. I can assure you that, though I put the best face upon things, and was upon the whole comfortable, yet my chief comfort in my situation there latterly, sprang from a persuasion that I was in the post the Lord had assigned me ; that he knew I was there, and why I was there ; that, as a centinel, it would be unsoldierly to indulge a wish of being relieved sooner than * The classical reader will excuse a slight inaccuracy here. 2 A 186 CORRESPONDENCE. [ChAP. VIII. my commander appointed. I tlionght, so fiir as my con- cern was dictated by a regard to the honour of the gos- pel and the good of sou Is, it was right ; but it was the smallest part wliieh I durst assign simply to that cause ; and that all the uneasy feelings of Mr. Self, on his own account, were not of that importance which he pretended. There were a few who loved me for the Lord's sake, and who, I could perceive, were fed and brought forward by my ministry ; and, thougli they were but few, I durst not say that their edification and affection were not an over- recompense for all the disagreeables. — Such considera- tions as these are present with you likewise. The Lord will support you and comfort you^ and can, whenever he pleases, either make your service more pleasant at Olney, or assign you a more comfortable situation elsewhere. I never had one serious thought of a removal, till the even- ing I received Mr. Thornton's offer of St. Mary Wool- noth. Even then, when it came to the point, it cost me something to part with them : and had the proposal been made a year or two sooner, I should have found more diiTiculty in accepting it. His hour and His methods are best, and it is good to wait for him and upon him ; for none who so wait shall be disappointed. When I first went to Olney, and for a good while afterwards, I had no more reason to expect such a post as I am now in, than I liave now to expect a removal to Lambeth. But the Lord never is at a loss for means to effect his own purposes. He can provide friends, open doors, remove mountains, and bring the most unlikely things to pass. . . And, when we have finished our course, if he is pleased to accept us, it will make no difference whether we die curates, or rectors, or bisliops. ^' One thing is needful : but this one thing includes many, and may be considered in various respects. The 1779 1785.] CORRESPONDENCE 187 one thing for a sinner is to know Jesus and his salvation. The one thing for a believer is to live to his will, and to make him his all ; to admire, contemplate, resemble, and serve him. A believer is a child of God ; a minister is, in an especial and appropriate sense, a servant, though a child likewise. The one thing for a servant, or a stew- ard in the house of God is to be faithful ; that is, to be simply and without reserve, or any allowed interfering motive, devoted and resigned to his Vvill ; to have no plan^ connexion, prospect, or interest, but under his direction, and in an immediate and clear subserviency to his interest. Happy the man who is brought to this point ! How ho- nourable, how safe his state ! He is engaged in a league offensive and defensive with the Lord of heaven and earth : and, in the midst of changes and exercises which can but affect the surface, if I may so speak, he has an abiding peace in the bottom of his soul, well knowing whose he is, and whom he serves. " Indeed, my friend, I see, or think I see, such inte- rested views, such height of spirit, such obvious blem- ishes, in some, who, on account of gifts and abilities, are eminent in the church of God, as are truly lamentable. I adore the mercy of the Lord who has preserved you and me, and a few men whom I love, from those snares and temptations, by which some, as good and wise as ourselves, have been entangled and hurt. If 1 must blame, I would do it with gentleness, well knowing that had I been left to myself, in similar circum.stances, I should not have acted better. Ah ! deceitful sin — deceitful world •—deceitful heart! How can we stand an hour against such a combination, unless upheld by the arm that upholds the heaven and the earth. . . . " I can say nothing about coming to Olney, but that I am willing if the Lord please. If I do, it must be soon l,S8 CORRESPONDENCE. [ChAP. Vlll- after Whitsunday : a long while to look forward to! 1 eannot move withont a supply, of which 1 have no pres- ent prospect : hut he can provide, if he would have mc go. With him 1 would leave all. It is pleasant, but not necessary to see each other. Oh! may we see him. and rejoice in him daily ; and. as to all the rest, JVot my will, hut thine he done. So I wish to say. — With love to Mrs. Scott from us bothj I remain your affectionate friend, John Newton.'^ I now turn to my father's own letters. The following, addressed to my mother's brother-in-law, to his corres- pondence with whom w^e have before adverted, will shew his motives for undertaking the cure of Olney, and his view of the service in which he was engaging. It is da- ted Weston, February 15, 1781. " I have undertaken the curacy of Olney along with Weston, leaving Kavenstone : which will be attended with my removal to Olney at Lady-day, and a considera- ble consequent expence in furniture, &c. But, on the other hand, it will I apprehend be some increase of in- come, and more of a settlement than my present situation ; as I have good reason to believe I shall be presented to the living, when the incumbent dies. At present the curacy, taking one thing with another, is about equal to Ravenstone, or rather preferable ; and there have been for many years subscriptions for a lecture, which have amounted to 40/. or better, but may pro])ably be 20/. or 30/. The living is but small, 70/. per annum, and the house ; and the inciunbent is very old. I mention these things because, as relations, you will probably wish to hear of them : otherwise, they are to mc very unimpor- tant. I have this day finished my thirty-fourth year. I lived without God in the world for nearly twenty-eight : 1779 — 1785. J correspond'ekce. 189 then he did not starve me, nay, he provided well for me, though I knew him not, asked him not, thanked him not. I have now in some measure trusted, and poorly served him the other six years, or nearly, and he has not failed me. Sometimes he has proved my faith, and made me ready to question whether he would provide for me or not, at least in that plentiful manner I had been accus- tomed to ; but he has always in the end made me ashamed of my suspicions. — Mercy and goodness have folloivrd me all the days of my life^ and the same Jehovah is still my Shepherd ; therefore I shall not ivant. I do not therefore embrace this offer, as if I were either dissatis- fied, or distrustful, or avaricious. I trust the Lord knows these are not my motives. The advance of income (if it be any,) is not at all a leading object with me ; but, the situation being offered, I verily judged it, upon the most deliberate consideration, \ trust in the spirit of prayer, my bounden duty to accept it ; because the vicar of Ravenstone's life is very precarious, and his death would probably have been followed with my removal to a greater distance from the place of my present abode, and from the people to whom I have been made useful, and whom I dearly love ; who will now be near, within reach of me, and I of them : because I hope the Lord hath some good work to do by me at Olney : and because many good people there have been this last year as sheep not having a shepherd. At the same time I am aw^are that I am about to be plunged into the midst of difficul- ties and trials, and shall have to regret the loss of many of my present comforts ; that I shall need vastly more wisdom, patience, and meekness, than I have hitherto at- tained to. But he who sends me will support me, sup- ply me, stand by me, and carry me through. And in- deed I am not to expect that the Lord Jesus has enlisted 190 (JORRESPOXDENCE. [ClIAP. VIU. irn; into liis army, and commissioned me as an ofticer, and given me a complete suit oi' armour, and directions, and encouragement for the fight, and assurance of victory, for notliing. He bids me endure hardships , fii^ht the good fight, carry war into Satan's dominion, down with his strong holds, spoil his goods ; and resistance, and conflict, and wrestlings, I must expect. Now for the fight, by and by the victory, and then the conquerors rest. He has, I trust, also enlisted you : be not discou- raged at the number and rage of your enemies. Your captain leads you forth ' to conquest and a crown.' He will cover your head in the day of battle, heal all your wounds, renew your strength, and at last crown you more than conqueror. " Indeed Olney is, I apprehend, as difHcult a charge for a minister as can well be imagined, and I greatly feel my insufficiency ; but if I look to Jesus I cannot be dis- couraged : his strength shall be perfected in my weak- ness^ and his wisdom in my foolishness. I must, howe- ver, enjoin you to pray for me : I have prayed for you long and often, and I trust the Lord has heard, and taught you to pray ; now pay me in kind. I need this return, and shall much value it. " Mr. , (the last minister of Olney) having set Olney in a flame by his contentious behaviour, is to suc- ceed me at Ravenstone, which is a sensible aflliction to me; but the Lord knows better than I do, and there I leave it. It will probably prevent my future usefulness at Ra- venstone. This Satan doubtless intends, but 1 hope the Lord will turn his counsel into fooUshncss.^' To the same person he wrote July 4th following : " You desire me to inform you how I like Olney : but it is impossible. I trust the Lord is with me, and I love his presence, and the liglit of his countenance, which en- 1779 1785.] CORRESPONDENCE. 191 tirely reconciles me to the numerous disagreeables that otherwise I do and must expect to encounter. I am sat- isfied that the Lord will not leave me to be needlessly discouraged ; and, further, that I shall learn many a pro- fitable lesson from the things I meet with : and, if I ac- quire humility, meekness, patience, prudence, experi- ence in this school, though it be not pleasing to the flesh, the spirit will rejoice. — As to the people, they are pretty much as I expected : rather more divided. But I cannot tell how things will issue. I have taken a farm, which is a good deal out of heart : I am break- ing up the fallow ground, ploughing, and harrow- ing, and sowing : but what sort of a crop I shall have, harvest-time will best shew. Only I am sure / shall reap in due season if I faint not. I do not, however, repent coming.'' Indications have already appeared of the spiritual hap- piness which my father enjoyed after the settlement of his religious views. Several passages also in the Force of Truth, and in the Discourse on Repentance, demonstrate the same state of mind. This continued for some years, but was afterwards succeeded, as by scenes of greater ef- fort, so also by more internal conflict. He always looked back upon the seven years which followed his first cordial reception of scriptural truth, as those of greatest personal enjoyment. The following passages of letters to his younger sister, Mrs. Ford, may be added to those which contain intimations of this kind ; and they, at the same time, contiue the history of his intercourse with this branch of his family. " January 29, 1782. To see you as happy in that peace of God^ which passeth understanding, and which, through Jesus Christ, keepeth the heart and mind, «s I feel myself, is my ardent wish, and frequent, fervent W2 CORRESPONDENCE. [ClIAP. VIII. ])rayer. ... On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays, I am at your service ; but I preach on the other evenings. . . . You may likewise depend upon it, tliat I will not make your continuance at Olney disagreeable by religious disputes : for the Lord has almost spoiled me for a dispu- tant'. Waiting and praying are the weapons of my war- fare, vvliich I trust will in due time \yro\t mighty, through God, for the pulling down of all stro7ig holds, which hin- der Christ's entering into, U7id dwelling in your heart by failh, and binnging every thought into captivity to obedience to himself. .... One expression in your let- ter encourages me to hope that we shall, before many more years have elapsed, be like-minded : namely, where you seem to entertain a doubt of your being right, and do offer a prayer to God to set you right. Thus I began : in this I persevered, and do persevere, and have no more doubt, that it is God who taught me what I now believe and preach, as to the great outlines, than I have that God is faithful and hears prayer. . . . You wonder at my condemning you unheard, and think I have a worse opi- nion of you than you deserve. 1 will promise you I have not so bad an opinion of you as I have of myself. But the Bible condemns us all, moral and immoral, great sinners and little sinners, (if there be such a thing:) that every mouth may be stopped, Rom. iii. 19, and follow- ing. Let me beg of you to read without a comment, to meditate upon, and pray over this scripture, especially that humbling text, For there is no difference, for all have sinned and come short of the glory of God. No difference : all are guilty, all condemned malefactors : all must be saved in a way of grace, by fjiith, through Christ.*' ^» June 25, 1782. Two things have concurred together to render it not easv for nic to write, namely, many en- 1779 1785.] CORRESPONDENCE. ' 193 gagements and much indisposition. ... If the Lord he pleased to give us, (for he is the alone giver,) in the way of honest industry in some lawful calling, the necessaries and ordinary conveniences of life, just abov^e the pinch- ings of poverty, and beneath the numberless temptations of affluence, we are then in the most favourable station Ibr real happiness, so far as attainable in this world, that we can be ; and we want nothing more but a contented mind : such a contented mind as springs from a concious- uess, that of all the numberless blessings we enjoy we de- serve not one, having forfeited all, and our souls too by sin ; from a consideration of the poverty, and afflictions of the Son of God, endured voluntarily for us ; from faith in him, a scriptural hope that ^our sins are pardoned, and that we are in a state of acceptance with God ; from peace of conscience, peace with God, submission to him, reliance on him, and realizing views of his unerring wisdom, al- mighty power, and faithfulness, engaged, through Jesus, to 7nake all ivork for our good ; together with the sweets of retired communion with him in the rarely frequented walks of fervent prayer and meditation. This is all that is wanted to make us satisfied, cheerful, and comfortable ; rejoicing in hope of complete happiness in a better world. All beside, that our restless minds (restless unless and until they find rest in God,) can crave, could add nothing to us. . . . Riches, pleasures, diversions, the pomp and pride of life, are not only empty but ruinous — vanity and vexation. The Lord grant that we may esteem them such, and despise them. True happiness consists in be- ing like God, loving him, and being beloved of him. All the rest is but a poor attempt of miserable man to for- get his misery, and to find a happiness independent of the fountain of happiness : as if men, being deprived of the light and heat of the sun, should attempt to supply the v 2B 194 COURESPONUENCK. [CllAP. VIll. reparable loss by fires and tapers. . . . But believe mc, dear sister, it is no small matter to be such a Christian : to deny ourselves, renounce the world, crucify the flesh, and resist the devil, though pleasant to him that has once got into the scriptural method, is too great a work for the most even of y)rofessors : most put up with either a round of de- votions, in a formal way, or a set of notions. But, though there is much diligence and self-denial necessary, and the friendship of the world, and conformity to it, must be re- nounced ; yet the present comforts of religion (I speak from sweet experience,) amply and richly repay it. May you and your's experience the same !' In another letter, about a year afterwards, addressed to a young woman remotely connected with him by marriage, w^ho had spent some time in his family at Weston, and who will hereafter be repeatedly noticed as his correspon- dent in Northumberland, he gives counsel and encourage- ment on the subject to which the preceding letter leads our thoughts, — the treatment of relations not yet brought to that religious state of mind which we could wish. At the same time we may trace in it the germ of that spirit of intercessory prayer, which so much distinguished the writer to the end of his days. " We seldom, or never, have to repent of doing any thing which we have well prayed over, and then acted according to the best of our judgment. — I have been but little at home, and then have been very poorly in health since I received yours : so that you must excuse my delay in writing. I do not quite forget you and your concerns when at the throne of grace, though I cannot say with V'di\\, alwai/s in every prayer. This is one among many things in this blessed apostle which I admire, that, amidst his manifold and important employments, he seems scarce- ly ever to have forgotten any of his churches or friends, 1779 1785.] CORRESPONDENCE. 195 but to have been constant, fervent, and particular in his prayers for them all and every one. The Lord help me to imitate him ! — I can sympathize with you in your sor- row, but can give you no other advice or comfort, than what you already know. — The Lord is sovereign and owes us nothing : and therefore we have abundant cause for thankfulness for what he hath, in a distinguishing manner, done for us, but none to complain of v/hat he de- nies us. Be still, and know that lam God, is a lesson which all his people must learn experimentally. Wait the Lord^s time, is another of the same sort. To love Christ even more than father and mother, and to desire his glory even more than their welfare, (which yet is a duty to desire next of all,) is another very hard lesson which a true Christian must learn. But, when you have made proficiency a little in these lessons, you do not know what He who is rich in mercy, in answer to pa- tient, persevering, believing, submissive prayers, may do for you. At all events you know he does hear prayer, and I dare venture to say, that your most earnest impor- tunate prayers for your parents are as sweet music in his ears ; and that he delights to hear them, as offered through the intercession of Jesus. I lament much that there is so little of this spirit amongst professors of religion. If ever it become general, religion will spread in families and neighbourhoods, as fire in a sheaf. Where two agree on earth as touching any thing that they shall ask, it shall he done for them. Try the experiment Though it is very proper to drop a word now and then, yet I would advise you to be sparing in it, as it will be miscon- strued into assuming and preaching. Meekness, atten- tion, affection, and every expression of honour and re- spect ; a mixture of seriousness and cheerfulness ; (which be sure you aim at — nothing prejudices more than an HHS CORRESPONDENCE. [ChAP.VIII. nppcarance of luclaiicholy :) now j»ncl tlien a pertinent text of scripture ; a hint dropped, and opportunities watched, when people are more willing to hear than at other times ; this, accompanied with many prayers, is the line I would mark out. But the Lord i^iveth wis- dom : and I doubt not he has been beforehand with me. I must concUide with wishing you success in the naine of the LordP The following letters take a wider range. Besides explaining more fully the nature of his situation at 01- ney, they develope the views which he had now begun to take of the state of religious profession at that time, among many persons of the class frecpiently denominated evangelical ; which views influenced the whole of his fu- ture ministry. Incidedtally also they disclose the sort of sentiments which he had formed, and to which for substance he ever adhered^ on church-government, and some other subjects. The first (dated April 29, 17S3,) is to the Rev. Mr. Mayor, who has been already iritroduced to the reader. '^ My very dear friend^ I would desire to bless God for, and to rejoice in the grace given unto you, and that he hath given you those peculiar views of the great things of the gospel, which alone can effectually prevent the abuse of them, and accomplish that glorious purpose for which they are designed. The moral ex- cellency and beauty of divine things — the glory and love- liness of the divine nature, law, and gospel — spiritually discerned, are the grand ])rescrvative against every error and every abuse in religion. This God hath given you, and given you to understand the use that is to be made of it, not only for the sanctifying and comforting of your own soul, but likewise for the work of the ministry. For this 1779 1785.] CORRESPONDENCE. 197 I bless God ; and especially because in this day there is great need of it^ and few I fear have a proper sense of it. Sure I am that evangelical religion is in many places wo- fully verging to antinomianism, — one of the vilest heresiCvS that ever Satan invented ; our natural pride and carnali- ty being both humoured and fed by it, under the plausi- ble pretence of exalting free grace, and debasing human nature. But, whilst antinomians talk of the grace of the gospel, they overturn all revealed religion." — He here proceeds to argue that there can be no more grace in the gospel than there is equity in the law, and justice in its penalty ; that the whole scheme, which derogates from the honour of the divine law, cherishes the propensity of our corrupt nature to excuse self, extenuate sin, and cast blame upon God ; and that " the conversion of the antinomian, notwithstanding all his good feelings, only leaves him tenfold more a hater of the God of the Bible, than he was before. This, my friend,'^ he proceeds, " I am sure of, and see more and more clearly every day ; and the enmity of loose professors against searching, prac- tical preaching, is full proof of it : and by God's grace I purpose to spend my whole life in bearing testimony against it; and shall rejoice in having you for a helper. In this work we must expect no quarter, either from the world, or some kind of professors. But we need wisdom equally with zeal and boldness. Let us observe that some excellent men, far before us in every other re- spect, have been unintentionally betrayed into some mis- takes of this kind ; that therefore a religion bordering on antinomianism has the countenance of respectable names : strong prejudices are in most places in favour of it: many hypocrites, I doubt not, there are amongst those who are for it : but they are not all hypocrites. We are poor in- consistent creatures, and few see the consequences, of their 198 CORRESPONUENCK. [ChAP. Till, own sentiments. You and I are young, obscure, little, nothing, in comparison of those who have lent their names to the opposite side. We must not therefore call them masters ; nor must we conceal our sentiments, or shun to declare the ivhole counsel of God. The wisdom that is from abovrt is first pure, then peaceable. We have therefore need of this wisdom : let us ask it of God. I would reccommend it to you, and to myself, whilst we guard against one extreme, to be careful lest we be pushed by Satan into the other. If we are faithful, we shall be called self-willed^ self-important, obstinate. The clamour we may contemn : but let us watch and pray against the thing itself. They will say, we speak and act in our own spirit : let us beg of God continually that they may have no just reason to say so. They will say we are legal : but let us, by preaching Christ, and dw elling clearly and fully on the glorious scheme of free redemption, and its pecu- liar doctrines, improving them to practical purposes, con- fute them. They will say that our ' scrupulosity' in practice springs from self- righteousness, and a pharisaical spirit. Let us then carefully avoid extremes ; laying too much stress on little things ; and censoriousness : con- demning false practices mainly by our conduct. I am persuaded God intends to do something for his glory by you, by and by. — Satan hath tried to preclude your use- fulness, by taken advantff^e of your zeal and honesty to hurry you into extremes and indiscretions. The minds of many are prejudiced. It is your trial, and I hope you will be the better for it : but watch and pray for tlie tinu^ to come. For my part, I make no scruple of declaring my sentiments to all I am acquainted with concerning you, and I doubt not but matters will be otherwise, if you do but observe such short rules as these. First : Do nothing in halite. Pray, pray, pray, before you determine. Se- 1779 1785.] CORRESPONDENCE. 199 eondly : Avoid all extremes. Thirdly : Be not peculiar in any thing which is not a case of conscience. Fourthly : Leave outward reformation mainly to the magistrate. Your iveapons are not carnal. Fifthly : Remember that Satan's kingdom is too strong for an arm of flesh : keep your dependence on the Almighty. Sixthly : Study to improve not only in grace and knowledge^ but in gifts : deliberate^ audible^ methodical utterance. Preach as you read prayers. Lastly : Though no part of truth is to be kept back, yet? some being of greater importance, and other of less, dwell mainly on the greater, and only men- tion the other occasionally. — Verbum sapienti. — I take the liberty of a friend ; use the same with me Write sooner and longer than before ; and, if you have any re- maining scruples about the church, do open your mind to me. . Satan would, I think, wish you to leave your station Your friend and brother, T. Scott." As this letter presents only a specimen of those com- plaints, which we shall see frequently reprated in the course of the present work, of a prevailing tendency to antinomian abuse of the gospel, among numbers who held many of the doctrines for which my father contended, it may be expedient here to offer a remark or two upon that subject. — Be it then ever remembered, that, when my father complained of antinomianism existing among persons of this description, he by no means intended that it was found only, or even principally among them. On this subject he thus speaks in the preface to his Sermon on the doctrines of Election and Final Perseverance : " On the other hand, the Arminian is not at all secured from antinomianism, nor the Calvinist exposed to it, by their several tenets : seeing both of them are antinomian 200 CORRESPONDENCE. [ClIAP. A III. just as far as they are uiisanctified, and no further; because the carnal mind is enmitij against Gad, for it is NOT SUHJECT TO THE LAW of God, neither indeed can it he. Pcrha])s speculating aiitinoniians ahoiind most among professed Calvinists: hut antinomians, whose sentiments influence their practice , are innumerahle among Armeni- ans. Does the reader douht this ? Let him ask any of those multitudes who trample on God's commandments, what they think of predestination and election ; and he will speedily he convinced that it is undeniahly true : for all these, in various ways, take occasion from the mercy of God to encourage themselves in impenitent wicked- ness. It would therefore he unspeakably better for all parties to examine these subjects with impartiality, meek- ness, find brotherly love, than reciprocally to censure, despise, and condemn one another.*' — In short, my fa- thers complaint was not that persons cml)racing these doctrines weveivorse than others, but that many of them were found by no means so much better than others, as lie was convinced their principles ought to have made them. — Tlie following extract of a letter written at a sub- sequent period, may also explain what were the nature and the source of much of that leaning to antinomianism of which he complained. " Many preachers are not di- rectly antinomian in doctrine, who yet dwell so fully and constantly on doctrinal points, and give the several paits of the Christian temper and conduct, in all its branches and ramifications, so little prominency, that, after all, their hearers are never taught the particulars of their duty, in the several relations to God and man, in the im- provement of their talents, the redemption of their time, FROM QUITTING OLNEY [ChAP. IX. Ui's : ** I shall, I hope, ever be obliged to my friends for advice, but I do not promise always to obey it. I will promise to add the reasons they offer to my own, to give them a vote in the consultation, and at last to let the ma- jority carry the day, as far as I am able to discern it. That is, so long as advice serves to direct my own judg- ment, I shall be glad of it : but will not supersede it.'^ Again : " One friend gives me this advice, another that : one advises me to act in this manner, another directly contrary : and what am I to do ? The answer is plain : Has not God given me reason ? and for what purpose, but to direct my conduct ? But to what then tends ad- vice ? To inform that reason : and, if two persons give me different counsel, I am not at liberty to act (implicitly) according to either one or the other ; but to weigh the arguments on which they are both founded, and to act accordingly.'' — There is not here that humble appeal to superior direction, which he would never, at a later pe- riod, have omitted to mention, but in other respects the principle is the same as he ever afterwards maintained. — And, if this be a just rule for the conduct of the per- son asking counsel, it forms also the just measure for the expectations of the persons giving it. In this way like- wise he early applied it. In 1777 he says to the same relative : " You ask my pardon for not taking my advice. This, I assure you, was needless : for I gave you my advice for your sake, not my own, and should be equally glad to hear that you succeeded well in rejecting it, as in fol- lowing it.'* And again in 1789 : " I will by no means agi'ee that you should implicitly follow any advice, which I now , or at any other time, may give. I would pro- pose hints, and assign reasons, and then leave you to think of them, and pray over them : which is the best way of enquiring of the Lord, to discover his will." 1783 — 1788.] TO COMMENCING HIS COMMENTARY. 217 If to all this we add the observation of the wise and holy Halyburton^ that " the promise of God, to direct our stepSy does not extend always to teaching others what is our duty/' it may reconcile ns to persevere in giving the best advice we can to those who ask it, with- out requiring or expecting to see it implicitly followed ; which is what my father wished to inculcate. He next observes in his narrative : ^^ A circumstance which had considerable weight in deciding my mind was, the hope of getting one who, I trusted, would prove an able and useful labourer ordained to succeed me at Olney.'' This was the Rev. James Bean, who, though the pros- pect of his immediately succeeding to Olney was not re- alized, ^^ was at length ordained, went thither, and be- came vicar of the place ; was useful there, and very acceptable to my friends and favourers ; but ere long re- signed the living : by which means my sanguine expec- tations were painfully disappointed. — Still, however, I did not give my answer to the governors of the Lock till the last day, and almost the last hour, allowed me for de- liberation. ^^ Whatever others judged, my own people, who were most attached to me, and most grieved to part with me, were convinced that I was called by providence to re- move, and that I did my duty in complying with it. I am not, however, myself to this day satisfied on the sub- ject. I cannot doubt that my removal has, especially by means of my writings, (as far as they have been, or are likely to be, useful) been overruled for good ; but, when I consider what a situation I inadvertedly rushed into, I fear I did not act properly, and I willingly ac- cept all my unspeakable mortifications and vexations as a merciful correction of my conduct : which, though not, in one sense , inconsiderate, yet shewed strange inatten- 2 E 'ii^ FKOM QUIITING OLNEV [ChAP. IX. tionto the state of parties, and other circumstances, at tlic Lock ; which, had 1 duly adverted to them, would have made me think it madness to engage in such a service." It may well he allowed that several circumstances at that time attending the situation at the Lock, coidd they previously to experience have been fully realized, might not only, with good reason, have produced great hesita- tion as to the acceptance of it, but even have appalled a mind firm and courageous as my father's was. To be subject to the control of a board of governors, many of them looking only to the pecuniary interests of the cha- rity ; and what must, if possible, be still more adverse to a ministers repose, many of them thinking themselves both qualified and intitled to dictate as to his doctrine : this must, of itself, be deemed sufficiently objectionable. Moreover, the board was then split into parties ; such as frequently arise when a concern, once prosperous, be- comes involved in difficulties. Still further, from the different character and sentiments of the two ministers, and the manner of my father's introduction, the chapel, and even the pulpit, was 'likely to be the scene of no less division than the board-room. The Lock also might, at that period, be considered as almost tlie head quar- ters of that loose and notional religion, on which my fa- ther had commenced his attack in the country. Laying all these things together, and taking into account his ob- scurity, and the humble rustic society in which, almost exclusively, he had hitherto moved, we shall cease to wonder at his last- recited remark. Still, however, con- templating the consequences of his removal to the Lock, only as far as we can now trace them ; — that, without this vStep, we should never, humanly speaking, have had his Commentary on the scriptures, (to name no others of his writings;) and that the great and eft'ective standi 1785 1788.] TO COMMENCING HIS COMMENTARY. 219 which he was enabled to make in London^ against a very meagre^ defective, and even corrupt representation of Christianity, would never have been made : when all this is considered, I trust we may say, that thousands have reason to pronounce it a happy inadvertence, by which he overlooked difficulties that might have led him to de- cline the call made upon him ; and that impartial by- standers will be disposed to consider " the unspeakable mortifications and vexations" which followed, as the ne- cessary trials of his faith, the preparatives for the pecu- liar services he was to render, and the requisite coun- terpoise to prevent his being " exalted above measure," by the flattering celebrity and the gi^eat usefulness he was ultimately to attain, rather than, as he himself was ready to think them, the corrections of a great impropri- ety of which he had been guilty. His narrative proceeds : " My salary at the Lock was no more than 80/. a-year, nearly 40/. of which was ne- cessary for rent and taxes*. I had, however, golden promises ; but I never greatly relied upon them : and I became more and more convinced, even before I left Olney, that they would not, in any measure, be realized. I discovered thact porti/ was much concerned in the whole business ; and I said to my family, when coming to town, ^ Observe, many of those who now appear to be my friends will forsake me ; but God will raise me up other friendsf.^ * My father's first residence was at No. 16, Hamilton Street, Piccadilly ; since transformed into the splendid Hamilton Place. At the end of twelve months he removed to No. 2, Chapel Street, Upper Grosvenor Place ; in which house he continued all the re- mainder of his time in London. t It is amusing to me to recollect, and it may not be altogether ii;npertinent to mention, that the text, Prov. xxvii. 14, has been 220 FROM QLITTING OLNEY [GhAP. IX. ^* I had indeed iniagiTicd that I should, without much difliculty, procure a lectureship on the Sunday afternoon or evening, and perliaps one on the week-day ; and 1 stood ready for any kind or degree of labour to which I might be called. But, whilst almost all my brethren readily obtained such appointments, I could never, during the seventeen years of my residence in town, procure an) lectureship, except that of St. Mildred's, Bread Street, which, in a manner, came to me, because no other per- son thought it worth applying for. It produced me, on an average, about 30/. a year. Some presents, however, which I receieved, addedconsiderably to its value during the last two or three years that I held it. For some years also, I preach ed at St. Margaret's, Lothbury, every alternate Sunday morning, at six o'clock, to a small company of people, and administered the sacrament. The stipend, however, for this service, was only 7^. 6(/. a time ; though I walked about seven miles in going and returning.*' for thirty-six years distinctly impressed upon my mind, owing to my having^, so long since, heard my father apply it to the then loud and ardent friendship of one of the governors of the Lock. The words are : " He that blesseth his friend with a loud voice, rising early in the morning, it shall be counted a curse to him." The anticipation was realized ; and the friendship of this gentle- man (who died many years ago) soon cooled into indifference. One honourable exception from the number of those persons who, having brought my father to the Lock, afterwards deserted or neglected him, is entitled to be mentioned. I refer to John Pearson, Esq. of Golden-square, for many years surgeon to the hospital. My father always atrributed more to the arguments of that gentleman, in deciding his acceptance of the situation at the Lock, than to those of any other person : and in Mr. P. he found a constant friend to the end of his life ; to whom he was indebted for many personal favours, besides the most skilful professional assistance, promptly and gratuitously rendered to him and his family, on the numerous occasions which required it 1785 178B.] TO COMMENCING HIS COMMENTARY. 221 My father was appointed to the Sunday afternoon lec- tureship in Bread Street, February 16, 1790, and re- tained it till he was chosen sole chaplain to the Lock, in March, 1802. H^s congregation seldom much exceeded a hundred in number ; but they were attentive hearers, and he had reason to believe that his preaching there was useful to many persons, several of whom have since become instruments of good to others. One it may be allowable to specify, whose extensive and invaluable services may God long continue and abundantly bless to his church ! '' I myself,'' observes the Rev. Daniel Wilson, in a note annexed to his funeral sermons for my father, " was, fiy^ or six and twenty years since, one of his very small con- gregation at his lecture in the city ; and I derived, as I trust, from the sound and practical instruction which I then received, the greatest and most permanent benefit, at the very time when a good direction and bias were of the utmost importance — the first setting out as a theolo- gical student.'^ To the morning lecture at Lothbury, if I mistake not, he succeeded when Mr. Cecil became unable any longer to continue it. Though a scource of no emolument, this too was a pleasant service to him. Few persons would attend at that early hour, who did not bear a real love to the or- dinances of God's house ; and among them were many pious servants and others, who found obstructions to attending public worship at other parts of the day. In adverting to these lectureships, at this period of his narrative, my father has somewhat anticipated : it may be proper that I should so far follow him, as, in this con- nexion, to remark the extent of his Sunday labours at that time. And this I shall do in the words of a lady of highly respectable station and connexions in life, who re- peatedly passed some little time under his roof, and was 222 l-ROM Ql ITTINGOLNEV [ChAP. XL particularly struck with this and other circumstances of Iiis habits and character. She writes thus : ^^*I must now, my dear sir, assure you, that, during my ])retty long wanderings in the world, even in the best part of it, I can truly affirm, that the various seasons I passed under the roof of your excellent parents are marked with a peculiar force on my memory, as presenting what came nearer to the perfection of a Christian's pilgrimage than I have often met with elsewhere. And this remem- brance leads me to express the hope, that you will not fail to give the precise and accurate report of your great father's life to the careless and idle world. My oppor- tunities have made me acquainted with such diversities of habits, that I believe the information you can furnish of his extraordinary labours w^ill surprise, as well as edify many a weak brother. I have been called upon solemnly to attest the account of his common Sunday work, mental and bodily, as almost beyond belief." This address led to the request, that the writer would herself put down what had struck her, as an occasional visitant, more than it might have done those, who, from being accustomed to it, would be apt to pass it over as a matter of course. The reply I give with such very slight corrections as were required. The account I have been accustomed to relate of Mr. Scott's Sunday laboui^, is as follows, and my memory does not tax me with inaccuracy. At four o'clock in the morning of every alternate Sunday, winter as well as summer, the watchman gave one heavy knock at the door, and Mr. S. and an old maid servant arose, — for he could not go out without his breakfast. He then set forth to meet a congregation at a church in Lothbury, about three miles and a half off; — I rather think the only church in London attended so early as six q'clock in tlie 1785 — 1788.] TO COMMENCING HIS COMMENTARY. 223 morning. I think he had from two to three hundred au- ditors, and administered the sacrament each time. He used to observe that^ if at any time, in his early walk through the streets in the depth of winter, lie was tempt- ed to complain, the view of the newsmen equally alert, and for a very diiferent object, changed his repinings into thanksgivings. — From the city he returned home, and about ten o'clock assembled bis family to prayers : immediately after which he proceeded to the chapel, where he performed the whole service, with the admin- istration of the sacrament on the alternate Sundays, when he did not go to Lothbury. His sermons, you know, were most ingeniously brought into an exact hour ; just about the same time, as I have heard him say, being spent in composing them. I well remember accompany- ing him to the afternoon church in Bread Sreet, (nearly as far as Lothbury,) after his taking his dinner without sitting down. On this occasion I hired a hackney-coach : but he desired me not to speak, as he took that time to prepare his sermon. I have calclated that he could not go much less than fourteen miles in the day, frequently the whole of it on foot, besides the three services, and at times a fourth semroti at Long-acre Chapel, or elsewhere, on his way home in the evening : and then he concluded the whole with family prayer, and that not a very short one. — Considering his bilious and asthmatic habit, this was immense labour ! And all this I knew him to do very soon after, if not the very next Sunday after, he had broken a rib by falling down the cabin- stairs of a Mar- gate packet : and it semeed to me as if he passed few weeks without taking an emetic ! But his heart was in his work ; and I never saw a more devoted Christian. In- deed he appeared to me to have hardly a word or thought out of the precise line of his duty : which made him som^e- 224 FROM QUITTING OLNEV [CuAP. IX. what ibrmidahle to weaker and more sinful beings. — His trials, I should think, (as you would have me honest with you,) were those of temper. Never, I often remarked, was there a ])etition in his family prayers, for any thing but the pardon of sin, and the suppressing of corruption. — His life, and labours, and devotedness, kept him from much knowledge of the world ; but the strength of his judgment gave him a rapid insight into passing affairs : and upon the whole I should be inclined to say, he was one of the W'isest men I ever knew. — You know more than I can do of the nature and habits of his daily life. I can only say that, when fatigued with writing, he would come up stairs, where the Bible was generally open, and his relaxation seemed to be, talking over some text with those whom he found there : and I can truly declare that I never lived in a happier or more united family.'' It is implied in the above account, that my father's ser- mons were usually composed the same day they were de- livered. This was literally the case. For more than five and thirty years, he never put pen to paper in pre- paring for the pulpit, except in the case of three or four sermons, preached on particular occasions, and expressly intended for publication : yet no one who heard him would complain of crudeness or want of thought in his discourses : they were rather faulty in being overcharged with matter, and too argumentative for the generality of hearers. — Indeed, an eminent chancery lawyer used to say that he heard him for professional improvement, as well as for religious edification ; for that he possessed the close ai'gumentative elo(pience peculiarly requisite at that bar, and which was found to be so rare an endowment. His statement concerning his pecuniary resources in London (from which we digressed,) he thus concludes : •' Tiic Loi-d, however, provided for me very comforta- 1785 1788.] TO COMMENCING HIS COMMENTARY. 225 bly ; though, even on the retrospect, I can hardly ex- plain or conceive how it was done. A subscription was annually raised for me at the Lock, as had been promis- ed ; but it fell considerably short of what I had been taught to expect, and a great proportion of it came from persons who had no concern in bringing me thither. I might mention some respectable names of persons, wholly unknown to me when I came to town, who became my liberal friends ; and of some who, though they always dis- approved my ministry, and avowed their disapprobation, yet contributed to my support." I confess it is with some reluctance that I admit these details of the straitened and dependent provision made for my father, in each successive place to which he re- moved : not that I feel as if any personal degradation at- tended the circumstance, but lest it should seem to be ob- truding upon notice private affairs, which have how passed away. Still I conceive there may be sufficient reasons for not withholding them. They present one part of those " struggles througn life" which make up his histo- ry. To some they may surely afford occasion of grati- tude : they are, at least, comparatively rich. Others may derive encouragement from knowing that my father always lived comfortably, though litterally he did little more than receive ^^day by day his daily bread." All may justly be stimulated, while they see that such nar- row circumstances were never any check to his unwearied and disinterested labours to be useful. And, finally, I must insist upon it, that such circumstances, borne as he bore them, ennobled his character. Dr. Franklin has remarked, that it is " hard to make an empty bag stand upright:" but, however empty, my father always stood upright — ^not with the uprightness of integrity only, but of independence : — I do not mean the pride which refuses 2F 25^b PROM QUITTING OI.NEY [ChAP. IX. to receive or to acknowledge an obligation, but tbat firm rectitude winch will not sacrifice judgment and principle to any consideration whatever. — This has in some degree appeared already, and it will appear still further in what is to follow. — We turn to his laboui's at the Lock. ^^ There was a weekly lecture at the Lock chapel, on the Wednesday evening, which the evening preacher and I were to take alternately. All circumstances considered, I did not expect much usefulness from this service. I therefore intreated the acting governors to allow me, in addition to it, to preach a lecture on the Friday evenings; the service to be altogether my own. This, after some hesitation, was conceded. The congregation, which might be expected to attend, I was aware, was decidedly Calvi- nistic : but I was fully determined to bring forward at this lecture (which indeed 1 had desired almost exclusive- ly for thai purpose,) every thing, in the most particular manner, relative to the Christian temper and conduct. With this view I formed, as I foolishly thought, a very sagacious plan. I gave notice that I would lecture, in an expository manner, on the Epistle to the Ephesians, in order. At first, I was very well attended, my congi'ega- tion generally consisting of more than three hundred persons. This continued while I was going through the ^more doctrinal part of the Epistle ; though I applied the doctrine very plainly to practical purposes, and often in- timated my hope, that I should be favoured with equal attention, when I came to speak more particularly on Chris- tian tempers and the relative duties. — But the Lord took theunse in hisoum craftiness. When I arrived at the latter part of the fourth chapter, the alarm was spread, though I stamped every exhortation strongly with anevangelicalseal. But at length, when I preaohcd from the fifth chapter, on the words, See tJuitye walk circumspectly . ^-f. the charge 1785 — 1788.] TO COMMENCING HIS COMMENTARY. 227 was every where circulated^ that I had changed my priii- ciples, and was become an Arminian : and, at once, I ir- recoverable/ lost much above half my audience. — The Sunday morning congregation also greatly decreased : dis- satisfaction was manifested in the looks and language of all the acting governors, even such as had been most friendly : and I seemed to have no alternative, but that of either receding voluntarily from my situation, or being disgracefully dismissed. " I had, however, no place to which to retire : every door seemed to be shut against me. On this emergency, amidst very many interruptions, and under inexpressible discouragement, I wrote in the course of a week, aiid preached on the Sunday morning following, (November 26, 1786,) my sermon on Election fLnd Final Persever- ance. By the next week it was printed and ready for sale : and a thousand copies were sold in about three days. A second edition was printed : but the public were saturated, and few copies were disposed of. ^^ While I was preparing this sermon, I dined with rather a large party, many of the company governors of the Lock, and zealous, in their way, for Calvinism. In the evening it was proposed, according to custom, to dis- cuss some religious subject : and, being really desirous of information, I proposed a question concerning the precise boundaries between Calvinism and Arminianism, respect- ing which so much prejudice against my ministry had been excited. But in conference they added nothing unto me: and two dissenters excepted, no one offer- ed any thing sufficient to shew that he understood the subject. So that, when I concluded with my own re- marks, it was allowed that I was more decidedly Calvi- nistic than the rest of the company ! — This was suited in one way to gratify me : but it was still more calculated to 228 FKOM QUITTING OLNEY [ChAP IX^ convince me, that I was placed in a most unpromising si- tuation." I well remember the utter astonisliment which my fa ther expressed on returning from the ])arty here alluded to. He had not conceived it possible that men, known in the religious world, could have allowed themselves boldly to take a side, and to talk loudly in favour of a system, of which they scarcely knew the outlines, and the grounds of which they were not able to ex- plain, still less to defend. — It is much to be hoped, that so instructive a record, as we are now considering, will not have been written in vain. That some, at least, will allow themselves to be put on their guard against being scared by the terror of a mere name ; and will be induced, after the honourable example of the Bereans, " to search the scriptures" concerning what they hear, and to ask, not by what distinctive appellation it may be described, but whether it is " ac- cording to the oracles of God" or not. — It is to be hoped, also, that some persons, immersed, perhaps, in secular business, from Monday morning till Saturday night, mafy be induced to doubt whether they are quite so well qua- lified to decide upon difficult theological questions, as they may have taken it for granted that they were. I fear it is but too obvious, with respect to many of the numbers who were '^ irrevocably" driven from the Lock, when my father proceeded to unfold and apply thr parts of St. Paul's writings which treat of '' Christian tempers and relative duties," that their real objection was not to Arminianism, (of which they very probably scarcely knew the meaning,) but to half, or mare than half^ the word of God. They had been accustomed to overlook it themselves, and could not bear to have it pressed upon their notice by another. 1785 1788.] TO COMMENCING HIS COMMENTARY. 229 My father continues : " I had at this time many in- structors as to my style of preaching ; and some at the Lock board assumed rather a high tone of authority : while others were disposed to counsel me as the messen- gers of Ahab did Michaiah.* But I disposed of the dic- tating instruction very shortly. *• Gentlemen/ I said^ ' you possess authority sufficient to change me for ano- ther preacher, whenever you please ; but you have no power to change me into another preacher. If you do not convince my understanding that I am in an error, you can never induce me to alter my method of preach- ing.' ^^The vexations, however, which I continually ex- perienced, often overcame for a time my patience and for- titude. On one occasion they led me to say to my wife, ^ Whatever be the consequence, I will quit this situation ; for I shall never have any peace in it.' She promptly answered : ' Take heed what you do : if you leave your station in this spirit, you will perhaps soon be with Jonah in the whale's belly.' The check was seasonable, and procured my acquiesence. " Various plans were devised to counteract the declen- sion of the congregation, consequent on my increasing un- popularity. Among others a preacher of some name of- fered, when in town, to take the Sunday morning sermon gratuitously ; and this was proposed to me with assurances that my income should suffer no diminution. I answered, ^ Gentlemen, I came hither for the work, and not for the wages ; and if you take that from me, I will certainly go and seek employment elsewhere.' This disconcerted the plan ; which was, however, abandoned chiefly through the interposition of the Earl of Dartmouth (a constant at- * I Kings xxii. IS, 14. ^30 FROM QUITTING OLNEY [ClIAP. IX. teiulant on the morning service at the Lock.) who re- marked, ' That he tliought it would be better for the gen- tleman in cpiestion to reside on his living, and attend to liis own flock, than to intermeddle with other men's labours : and that, if the present preachers in the chapel w^ere incompetent, it might be proper to dismiss them, but not in so disgraceful a manner to supei^ede either the one or the other of them.' " Every thing, however, conduced to render me more and more unpopular, not only at the Lock, but in every part of London; and numbers, who never heard me preach, were fully possessed with the idea, that there was some- thing very wrong both in my preaching and in my spirit. Much defect, especially as to manner, I am fully conscious of : but I am equally consciovs^ that I did not give way to anger in my ministry ; but that my most distinguishing reprehensions of those, who perverted the doctrines of the gospel to antinomian purposes, and my most awful warnings, were the language of compassionate love, and were accompanied by many tears and prayers. My most respectable and constant hearers, who often expressed dissatisfaction with my manner, and with my dwelling disproportionately on certain points in debate ; or being too severely pointed in exposing the religious .deficien- cies of persons of fair moral character ; never imputed to me a harsh and angry spirit in the pulpit : the charge of scolding was brought against me, precisely as had been the case at Olney, either by those who seldom or never heard me, or by those very practical antinomians. whose awfid and pernicious delusion I endeavoured to expose. '^ During this time, almost my whole comfort, as a minister, arose from my labours in the hospital, which, with all the disgusting circumstances of the service, were far more pleasing and encouraging to me, than preach- 1785 1788.] TO COMMENCING HIS COMMENTARY. 231 ing in the chapel. I constantly attended twice in the week ; each time preaching first in the women's wards^ and then in the men's. I took the plainest portions of scripture^ and spoke in a strain of close address to the conscience, and altogether in a manner, which I could never equal in any other place ; and so as always to fix the attention, and often greatly to affect the hearts, of my poor proliigate auditors. I concluded each address with an appropriate prayer. I was restricted by no rules : indeed 1 could not have acted to my own satisfaction, had any been prescribed : but I did the very best that I could. " I soon perceived the plan, and indeed the institu- tion itself, to be utterly incomplete, as far as the female patients were concerned : as they had, in general, on leaving the hospital, no other alternative open before them but returning to their former course of life, (which, in the great majority of instances, was that of prostitution ;) or encountering hardships which it could not be suppo- sed they would have resolution to endure. Direct starv- ing, indeed, cannot in this country be a frequent danger : but to prefer the frowns and reproaches of the parish officer, and the restraints and grievances of a workhouse, under the most unfavourable circumstances possible, to the ruinous indeed, but for the moment jovial and self- indulgent life to which she has been accustomed, is more than can reasonably be expected of a female patient just discharged from the Lock Hospital^. — It could not then, be hoped that these women, so situate, would do other- t It would be to require of them " the faith and constancy of a martyr (in steadily preferring the greatest hardships to a ready relief by sin,) in the very first onset of a reformation." My fa- ther's Pamphlet, 1787, 232 FKOM QUITTING OLNEY [ChAP. IX. wise than close their ears against all instruction, and every admonition which called them to so severe a trial. " Amidst all my difliculties, therefore, I formed the plan of an asylum, into which such of these unhappy ohjects, as desired it, might be admitted on their leav- ing the hospital. I wrote a pamphlet on the subject, and read it in manuscript to Lord Dartmouth, Sir Charles Middleton, (since Lord Barham) and some others. Be- ing encouraged by them, I printed it, proposing, at the same time, a meeting to be held for the purpose of taking the subject into consideration : and, putting it under cover as a letter, I left it myself at the doors of most of the nobility and principal gentry in town. Being so left, it was generally read ; and the result is known. A meeting was held, (April 18, 1787,) the Duke of Manchester taking the chair ; and, with much difficulty, an asylum was formed, on a very small scale. It often appeared to me that it must be given up, for want of mo- ney to defray the expences. For a long time the only return I met with for my assiduity was censure, even from quarters from which I least expected it : but I trust several immortal souls have been, and will be saved i)y means of the institution. — I cannot doubt that the very opposition at first made to it by some friends of the Mag- dalen, who afterwards favoured it, occasioned some im- portant improvements in the management of that charity : and institutions on the same general principle have since been formed at Dublin, Bristol, Hull, and some other places, (not to mention the London Penitentiary,) in res- pect of which the letters I received fully shewed, that my little attempt had in some measure suggested the idea to those who founded them." The reflecting reader will not fail to be struck with tJie wonted zeal and energy of my father s mind, as dis- 1785 — 1788.] TO COMMENCING HIS COMMENTARY. 233 played on this occasion^ in forming and carrying into ef- fect such a design, while he was yet an obscure stranger in London^ and in other respects very disadvantageously situate. — During the whole term of his continuance in town he acted as chaplain to the new" institution, and took the principal share in the management of its concerns. For several years he attended daily (without any remu- neration,) to conduct family worship, and give religious instruction in the house ; and he constantly had a ser- vant in his family taken from the asylum. The reports, drawn up by him, detail many instances of those who were not only reclaimed and restored to society, but evi- dently converted to God by the means thus used ; and who shewed this by a long course of consistent conduct, — terminating, in several cases, in a Christian and happy death. It might be observed, that my father printed an abridgement of his Discourse on Repentance, (forty or fifty pages) and gave a copy to each patient discharged from the hospital, who chose to apply for it. He also published a little tract, entitled '^ Hints to Patients in Hospitals," not adapted exclusively to the case of those amongst whom he laboured. An extract of a letter written by him in May, 1789, may be properly introduced in this connexion. It may both display the strength of his feeling upon such sub- jects, and convey an useful hint to more than one descrip- tion of persons. It should be remembered that it comes from one, who had ample opportunity of knowing the truth of what he asserts. ^' By no means let come to London, if you can help it. I look upon the young women who come to London for places, (a few prudent and very clever ones excepted,) just in the light I do upon the cattle that 2G 234 FROM QUITTING OLNEY [ChAP. IX. come to Smithfiekl market : they come to be a prey to the inhabitants. I wonder any of those who have not very prudent and friendly connexions escape prostitu- tion At every offence, girls are turned out of doors with a month's wages, often in the evening, and at an hour's warning. They have lodgings to seek : a set of wretches let lodgings, who make it their study to betray them into situations from which few escape. Often their clothes are stolen : if not, they are pawned for money to pay expences, and in a few weeks they are thus strip- ped of apparel, and can go to no place at all. In short, dangers are innumerable, and the number that, without any such previous intention, are seduced and become prostitutes, and perish without any regarding it, is incred- ible. It is shocking to me beyond expression : and I think I should leave London with pleasure, for this sin- gle circumstance, did not a sense of duty at present de- tain me : but perhaps that will not long be the case. — But all will be well, and will end well, for them that trust in and serve God." The narrative proceeds: " In the summer of 1787 I visited Olney and the vicinity, and there preached a ser- mon on Phil. i. 9 — 14, which I afterwards printed, chief- ly for the benefit of my late people there : but it has since been repeatedly published, in an extended form, under the title of ' A Treatise on Growth in Grace.' " The visit here referred to was not the first which he paid to his beloved people in Buckinghamshire : he had been with them in the autumn of 1786. Nor was this sermon the only pi'oof of his care for them. From letters to a princi])al parishioner at Ravenstone, I find that he sent them frequent supplies of books, wrote them pastoral letters adapted to their circumstances, and made remittances of money for the relief of their tern- 1785 1788.] TO COMMENCING HIS COMMENTARY. 235 poral wants. From this correspondence I shall introduce some extracts in their proper place. He proceeds concerting his publications : " Having added this discourse to the Force of Truth, the Treatise on Repentance^ and the Sermon on Election and Final Perseverance ; and finding nothing which I published sell, even so far as to pay the expences, I concluded that I had mistaken my talent, and almost resolved to print no more. Yet I had much spare time^ and I found little either advantage or comfort in visiting. '^ For some time I had frequent invitations to meet dinner parties formed of persons professing religion ; and I generally accepted them : yet I seldom returned home without dissatisfaction^ and even remorse of consci- ence. One day (the Queen's birth-day,) I met^ at the house of a rather opulent tradesman, a large party, among whom were some other ministers. The dinner was exceedingly splendid and luxurious, consisting of two courses, including every delicacy in season. Some jokes passed upon the subject ; and one person, in particular, a minister of much celebrity, said, ' If we proceed thus, we shall soon have the gout numbered among the privi- leges of the gospel !' This passed off very well : but in the evening, a question being proposed on the principal dangers to which evangelical religion was exposed in the present day, when it came to my turn to speak, I ventur- ed to say, that conformity to the world among persons professing godliness was the grand danger of all. One thing led to another, and the luxurious dinner did not pass unnoticed by me. I expressed myself as cautiously, as I could, consistently with my conscience ; but I observ- ed that, however it might he needful for Christians in superior stations sometimes to give splendid and expen- sive dinners to their worldly relations and connexions, yet, 236 FKOM QUITTING OLNEY [ChAP. IX. when niiriistei*s and Christians met together as such, it was not consistent; but sliould be exchanged for some frugal entertainments of each other, aud more abundant feeding of M^/^oor, themaimedj the lame, and the blind. (Luke xiv. 12 — 14.) — Probably I was too pointed ; and many strong expressions of disapprobation w ere used at the time : but I went home as one who had thrown off a great burden from his back — rejoicing in the testimony of my conscience. The consequence was, a sort of ta- cit excommunication from the circle. The gentleman at whose house this passed never invited me again but once ; and then our dinner was, literally, apiece of boiled beef. — He was, however, I believe, a truly pious man, though misled by bad examples and customs. He always continued to act towards me in a friendly manner ; and, though I had not seen him for several years, he left me a small legacy at his death. " By these means I had still more unoccupied time, which I did not well know how to turn to good account : for I found little opening or encouragement in attempt- ing to visit and converse with the poor ; and 1 had nei- ther the same views of preparing for future service, by study, that I have since had, nor the means of obtaining proper books for the purpose. Yet^ in one way or ano- ther, I was always employed." The above observations lead to the account of my fa- ther's undertaking his commentary on the scriptures. We have now, therefore, arrived at the eve of his com- mencing the great work of his life ; and, previously to entering upon its history, it may be advisable here again to pause, and review such parts of his correspondence as have come to hand, illustrative of the period and the subjects which have already passed before us; and of his 1785 1783.] TO COMMENCING HIS COMMENTARY. 237 situation and proceedings at the Lock even to a somewhat later date. To his elder sister he gave the following account of his new situation and employments. " January 19^ 1786. I can form no manner of con- clusion whether this removal will be an advantage or disadvantage to my secular interest. However I have acted according to my judgment and conscience^ and find no difficulty in leaving the event to him who saysj, Seek first the kingdom of God, &c The Sunday morn- ing congregations are large^ and many of them persons of rank and fortune, who yet approve of our unfashion- able doctrines. Ipreach likewise every other Wednesday evening, and every Friday evening to considerable num- bers. At stated times in the week I visit the patients, ex- plain the scriptures, and pray with them. They are in gen- eral of the most wretched and abandoned of the human spe- cies, many of them common prostitutes : yet, remembering that Jesus himself disdained not to preach to such, and told the proud pharisees, that the publicans and harlots entered into the kingdo7n of heaven before them^ I take pleasure in this work, and expect much good from it ; and I find the poor wretches exceedingly attentive, and very much affected. Jesus Christ is able to save to the uttermost all them that come to God by him ; and him that Cometh unto him, he will in no wise cast out. No- thing is wanting but to convince them all of their need of such a Saviour. — About seven hundred of these poor creatures pass through the hospital in the course of a year. So you see I have some work, but I want more." A letter to his younger sister. May 6, 1786, notices a publication which has not been mentioned in the narra- tive. " Dr. Conyers of Deptford (a very excellent min- 238 FROM qun T1N(; OLNEY [ClIAP. IX. b;ter,)die(L almost in the pulpit, last Snnclay sennii^ht : and last Sunday I preached a Sermon at the Lock with some reference to this event, which I have heen jipplied to, from a respectahle quarter, to commit to paper ; proba- bly for publication. This must be done immediately." — The quarter from which the application came was, I be- lieve, the late John Thornton, Esq. whose friendship my father enjoyed, and whose sister Dr. Conyers had mar- ried. The case of an orphan niece, in a precarious state of health, gave occasion to the following judicious advice in the same letter. ^^ I would hope, and have you hope the best of her in respect of spiritual concerns ; but would have her fear the worst. Long experience convinces me that no mis- take is more common or fatal, than too hastily encourag- ing persons under serious impressions to think that they have already passed a saving change, and that all is now well. Representing salvation as invariably consequent upon a diligent, humble, persevering application to Christ, in prayer and the use of means, affords a sufficient stay to the newly awakened mind, keeps it attentive, and spurs it on to diligence. But should a person fcthely think all right, this persuasion will sooth his conscience, slacken his diligence, and lull him to sleep. Our com- passion for persons under concern for their salvation of- ten operates in this manner. But a skilful surgeon is al- ways afraid of a hasty cure. — This hint I know you will understand, and, in speaking to your niece, will take care to keep alive a jealousy of herself. — I hope I do continue to pray for her, and you, and all my relations. I have much cause for gratitude for the past, and encouragement for the others ; especially as I am continually getting aux- iliaries to assist me in praying for them.*' 1785 1788.] TO COMMENCING HIS COMMENTARY. 239 To the Rev. John Ryland^ Jun. Northampton, now Dr. Ryland of Bristol, he thus writes. '^ May 24, 1786. I trust I can truly say that I also have the welfare of all the friends of truth and holiness near my heart ; and I know but few in my own line, that I feel more cordially united to, than yourself, Mr. Fuller, and Mr, Symmonds."^ I hear also that you all have your trials, and did I not hear, I should suppose it as a thing of course ; because I trust the Lord loves you, and in- tends to make use of you : and the devil hates you, and fears the effects of your goings on. From both these causes trials must spring : but here lies the difference, the Lord means your good, the devil your hurt : but the Lord will accomplish his design, and make the devil, sorely against his will, to be his instrument in so doing. I have not readj though I have just seen R. R.'s sermons, who seems fast verging towards infidelity or scepticism. The Lord preserve us from the pride of learning and abilities. If we once think ourselves competent to un- derstand the Bible by dint of our own sagacity, and skill in languages and criticism, without an immediate and con- tinual dependence upon the teaching of the Holy Spirit, we are within a few paces of some dreadful downfall. Witness Madan, Withers, (though scarcely worthy to keep such company,) and R. Robinson ; who in their se- veral publications all either expressly disavow, or tacitly pass by the mention of such a dependence. — Your intel- ligence from New England is of another sort, and right glad I am to hear, that now, when, by other accounts, the enemy is coming in like a flood, — an inundation of Socinianism, infidelity, and profligacy, — the Spirit of the Lord is lifting up a standard against him. May he revive his work as in former days among them ! — * Of Bedford. 240 FROM QUlTTlNCii OLNEY [ClIAF. IX. J3ut I must not proceed further witiiout answering your kind inquiries alter me and mine. The Lord has ena- bled me so to conduct myself toward Mr. , that. though tiiere may not be all that cordiality which might be wished for^ there is no dissension, nor much shyness. There seemed at first a strong and formed party against me among the hearers ; but I believe it will all die away of itself. Mr. S. has withdrawn his assistance from the charity, and endeavoured to influence some others : butthe Lord has raised up new friends and subscribers, and the charity sermons exceeded expectation. The congrega- tion increases, and consequently, we suppose, the income of the chapel. In the year ending Lady Day, 1783, the chapel brought in 760/. : the year ending Lady Day, 1786, it brought in less than 300/. Had the income continued to diminish, my situation would have been very uneasy, if not untenable. But the promising ap- pearances have encouraged my friends, stilled my ene- mies, and brought over some. At the same time my very homely, plain, rough, practical preaching is re- ceived in a manner more favourable than I could have imagined. Lord and Lady Dartmouth, and a few others of the higher ranks, by their approbation have given a sanction to it. The cry of Arminian and Papist was raised, but soon died away. Mr. S. wrote twice to me, and then gave me up. I question whether all the whole number of governors (two or three excepted,) are not staunch friends : if not out of love to the gospel, yet out of regard to the charity. As to success, I can only say, that tliere is a very ])leasing and promising attention, and an increase of numbers : many of Mr. 's friends are reconciled to my preaching, and I preach in many places with tolerable acceptance to great numbers. And among the patients I hope some good will be, and is done. 1785 1788.] TO COMMENCING HIS COMMENTARY. 241 But another time I may be more particular. I believe I have done right. I am glad to inform you, that Mr. Foster, and several others, preach fully upon our plan, and more are preaching invitingly and practivally , Dr. Withers gains no regard here, and seems to sink into ob- livion. I have published a second edition of the Discourse on Repentance, with some additions, in which I have borne testimony against some of his sentiments without mentioning his name. I hope to have done in a few weeks, when I shall perhaps see you. We are all tole- rably well, and send as much love to you all as can be crammed in. Your's affectionately, T. Scott. '^ Another letter to the same correspondent, thongh of a later date, may not improperly be introduced here, as it further explains the writer's views, without any thing else peculiar to the time at which it was written, than a slight reference to his Essays then in the course of publi- cation in the form of tracts. " September 30, 1793. The little Essays sell very fast, and I hope will have a measure of usefulness. How- ever, truth is the only seed from which real holiness or happiness can grow ; and unless seed be sown, we cannot expect a crop. Indeed much of it may perish in the ground, and much of it lie dormant for a longtime ; yet our busi- ness is, in every way, and by every means, to be sowing the truth according to our apprehensions of it, and to trust in God, and beg of him to render it productive by by his special grace. This is particularly the great busi- ness of a minister's life ; and, though we often may seem to labour in vain, and discouragements may be needful for us, to keep us from being exalted above measure^ we shall, I trust, find at last, that more of the seed sown was productive, than we in general supposed. It ap- 2 H 242 FROM QUITTING OLNEY [ChAP IX . pears to me that a superficial gospel will almost always at first make more rapid progress, than the whole truth of revelation solidly proposed to mankind; (except at snch seasons as that which followed the day of Pentecost :) but then these superficial effects die away, and gradiially come to little ; whereas the less apparent effect of the whole truth abides and increases permanently. This has been remarkably the case in the vicinity of Olney : the effect of my ministry now appears much more evidently, than when I left that situation ; and this encourages me, amidst the manifold discouragements of my present station. — You see I take it for granted, in opposition to the verdict of a vast majority of London professoi^, that I have the truth on my side : and indeed I have so long and so ear- nestly examined the sacred scriptures, and considered the various schemes of those around me, with fervent, con- stant prayer to know the truth, more than for almost any other mercy, that I scarcely know how to think that 1 can be mistaken in those g?rtnd matters^ in which I differ from so many modern professors in the establishment, among the two descriptions of Methodists, and among the Dissenters ; for, as to lesser differences, I am not very confident, and am probably mistaken in many things ; but not willingly. Yet I can truly say, that I scarcely ever hear or read any way of stating doctrines diflPerently from what I adopt, but I give it a fair examination, and seek to know the mind of God respecting it ; desiring to be a learner, that I may be a teacher to the end of my life. In general I accord with the American divines : and yet, in some things, I rather dissent from them ; especially in that, as I think, they rather consider what true religion is in the abstract, than as it subsists in the mind of such poor creatures as we are, with all our infirmities, preju- dices, &c. &c : in that they sometimes insist on the ne- 1785 — 1788.] TO COMMENCING HIS COMMENTARY. 243 cessity of seeing such and such things, when perhaps many upright souls only believe them, that is, allow them to be so on God's testimony, though they cannot see them so clearly as others do : in that they seem sometimes to give too little encouragement to inquirers : and in that they would have self-love almost excluded from religion ; where- as it seems to me, that it is a part of our nature as God made us, not as sin hath made us ; that sin has only per- verted it, and that grace recovers us from that perversion, and brings us to love ourselves wisely, by seeking happi- ness in God and not in the creature ; in which exercise of it, it perfectly consists with the supreme love of God, and equal love of our neighbour, and with doing all to the glory of God. " When I began to write, I no more thought of this subject than I did of filling my paper, which I have almost done. However, as J trust truth is our object, and as we are both likely to be placed in situations, if we are spared, in which we shall disseminate, perhaps widely, those principles we deem to be truth, and as a little devi- ation may sometimes counteract our endeavours, I should not be sorry now and then, when you have leisure, to exchange a letter on these subjects ; as the discussion of them may be mutually useful to us. I am, dear Sir, your affectionate friend and brother, T. S.'' I shall next lay before the reader some extracts of letters to his late respected parishoner, Mrs. Godfrey, of Ravenstone. " December 20, 1786. The opposition was so great against me here in town since my return from Bucks, that my congregation seemed almost gone, and other pul- pits shut against me ; and I thought it scarcely possible for me long to maintain my post at the Lock, or in Lon- don. I know not that ever I was so desponding about 244 FROM quittim; olney [Chap. IX. any thing in all the time tluit I have preached. But, after much discouragement, I determined to make another eftbrt, and hoth to explain my sentiments to the congre- gation and to appeal to the puhlic. I therefore wrote, preached, and published the sermon I send you : and, I bless God, it seems far to exceed my most sanguine ex- pectations of success. Misrepresentation seems silenced affd prejudices diminished ; the congregation increases : a spirit of inquiry appears to be excited ; many confess that they did not well understand the matter, and that there is a necessity for more practical preaching. So that I trust all things shall tend to the furtherance of the gospel, and to diffuse more widely, than my preaching extends, those views of Christianity, which I have de- livered and you received in your neighbourhood 1 have nothing to add to the exhortations I have so often given, but my prayers that you may abound more and more. The notion of religion goes down very well, but the devil and the world hate the power of it : therefore we ought to love it. Give my love to all your family, and to all the dear people, along with the sermons.'' " January 25, 1787. We thank you for your present and your letter. The former was acceptable, the latter more so; for it reminded me of former times, and reviv- ed the assurance, that, however the doctrine I deliver may be reviled and slighted, it is indisputably that doc- trine, which is the power of God unto salvation; as the lives of many in your neighbourhood do testify. If I should exhort you all to go forward, and abound more and more in every good word and work ; I doubt not that you would in return exhort and incite me to do the same ; and, notwithstanding all opposition, and regardless of all consequences, to preach to all around the same truths which you have heard, received, feel, shew the effects 1785 1788.] TO COMMENCING HIS COMMENTARY. 245 of, and rejoice in. I trust the Lord will enable us all thus to do. But it is grievous to think to what a degree the blessed gospel is abused and corrupted^ where it is not openly opposed or neglected ; and what numbers are willing to hear a part of the truth^ who will not hear the whole of it. The time is lamentably come^ when num- bers will not endure sound doctrine j hut turn away their ears from the truths and are turned unto fables. How- ever^ I have reason to think^ that neither my preaching nor publishing shall be in vain. — We have numbers of such professors as Olney abound with : but we have a remnant of another sort ; and I trust they are increasing even at the Lock. The post is very difficult and preca- rious^ but I trust that it will all issue well. I have need of much prudence, patience, meekness, and courage ; and therefore you have need to pray much for me.'^ " June 28, 1787. My journey (into Buckingham- shire) was very encouraging and establishing to myself, and I hope to others also. I pray God the seed sown may spring up abundantly, and appear evidently in the lives of believers, and in the conversion of sinners. But, when I got home, I began again to struggle with my dif- ficulties, and seem to have got into another world, amongst another species of creatures ; religion seems such a different thing amongst them. Yet I cannot but hope that, in process of time, the same effects will follow as have in your neighbourhood. But I am often discouraged, and ready to think I shall never be able to keep my post, or do any good in it. Then again I am encouraged : and all this is to teach me, that the help that is done on earth, the Lord doeth it him- self.— Upon the whole, every thing concurs to satify me that I am in my proper place, and doing my Master's work, and preaching the truth of God, (though often 246 FHOM QUITTING OLNEY [ChAP. IX. with much mixture of human infirmity:) and that it is exceedingly wanted here, and that nothing else can recti- fy the disorders which prevail : and therefore, if this doc- trine caiuiot ohtain a hearing, or doth not produce an ef- fect, true religion must be extinguished in the congrega- tion. But indeed London is such a mass of wickedness, and even religion is here such a superficial slight matter, so very yielding and worldly, that every thing I see and hear, as well as what I feel, is grievous. When I look into the Bible, and view the religion therein contained, it is so pure, so beautiful, so divine, that I long to see its counterpart on earth : but, when I look for it in this and the other church, or denomination of Christians, I seem to find nothing like it ; but its opposite : hatred in- stead of love, pride instead of humility, contention in- stead of peace, worldly -mindedness instead of heavenly affections, and dissimulation instead of sincerity. Yet there is evea at this time a remnant occord'ing to the election of gi^ace^ and many more than the eye of man can discover. God saw seven thouvsand in Israel, where Elijah could not find one. This is a consolation ; as is also that promise to those who sigh and mourn over pre- vailing abominations, though they cannot cure them. And, if there are so few true Christians, what thanks are due to the Lord if we are such, who fire by nature no bet- ter than others ! What diligence in making our calling and election sure ; what activity in doing good ; and what patience in tribulation, i^ejoicing in hope, and fervency in prayer ; ought we not to aim at ! And how welcome will a world of ])erfect purity and love be at last ! . . . . We shall be happy to see you when convenient. Mrs. S. joins me in love to you all. My love to every branch of your family : the Lord make them all branches of his family ! My love to all the people and enquiring friends. 1785 — 1788.] TO COMMENCING HIS COMMENTARY. 247 Tell them to love one another, and pray for themselves and each other, and for me ! With sincere affection and prayers for you, I remain your friend and servant, T. SCOTT.'^ The following belong to a later period, but they may be introduced here to finish at once my extracts from this series of letters. April 7, 1788, he proposes to send " one or two" out of his twenty 'five copies of his Bible for the perusal of the poorer people, who cannot afford to purchase it. " September 9, 1794. I am too much engaged in dis- charging the large debt, in which Mr. R.'s failure has involved me, to be able to send money (as I otherwise meant to have done,) to help my poor brethren, or rather children, in Ravenstone and the neighbouring places : but, having finished my Essays, I have sent twelve copies to be sold, and the money given away Should they speedily go off, I shall be glad hereafter to follow them with a similar present ; wishing that I had it in my power to shew my sincere affection in a more effectual way I beg all who regard my opinion to do nothing hastily, or without much previous prayer; not to listen to those persons, who will probably attempt to make divi- sions or proselytes, pretending zeal for some important doctrines ; and to endeavour, as much as possible, to keep united as one body, waiting to see what the event may be of these changes ; which perhaps cannot at present be well known.'' " July 2, 1795. The very high price of bread and other provisions continually reminds me of my poor peo- ple at Ravenstone, &c. in respect of their temporal pro- vision. I have not indeed much in my power, but the Lord gives me plenty of things necessary ; and I think 248 FROM QUITTIVG OLNEY [ChAP. IX. It my duty, at such ii tinu' as this, rather to exceed ordina- ry rules in hel])ing others, espexially the hovsehald of faith : and none liave so good claim on me, as those whom I look on as my children in the gospel, and who I trust will he my crown of i^ejoicing in the day of Christ. ^^ — He sends three guineas, and proceeds: ^^I wish I could do any thing more effectual to relieve the pressing necessities of a people ever dear to my heart : but I hope they will trust in the Lord both for temporal and spiri' tual things, and that more entirely in times of troidile. I recommend the sixty -second psalm to their consideration at this timc^ and the thirty-seventh. Give my love to them all." " February 14, 1799. As the Lord hath in pecunia- ry matters been very kind to me. in an emergency when I was led to expect great difficulties, I think it my duty to make some acknowledgment, by contributing a little to the relief of such of my brethren as are in poor cir- cumstances." He sends therefore two guineas '' My heart is very much with you, and I do not always forget to pray for you all : but, in this and all other good things, I am too apt to be negligent." One more series of letters, from which I shall give a few extracts in this place, presents my Mher in an interest- ing connexion with the British and Foreign Bible Society: not indeed with its actual formation, (which was many years posterior to this time,) but with the preceding events which led the way to it. As the historian of that society remarks, " The primary occasion of all tliose measures, out of which grew the institution of the Brit- ish and Foreign Bible Society, was the scarcity of Welch Bibles in the Principality, and the impracticability of obtaining adequate supplies from the only source existing at that period, whence copies of the authorized version 1785 — 1788.] TO COMMENCING HIS COMMENTARY. 249 were to be derived.''' Accordingly his history commen- ces with a correspondence^, in the year 1787, between a clergyman in London, and a brother clergyman in Wales/' which first bro\jght the existing scarcity into notice in England. This London clergyman was my father. Mr. Owen's first extract is from a letter of his, dated May 15, 1787, which, it will be seen, implies a prior commu- nication from Wales. That communication is in my hands, having accidently escaped the destruction to which my father consigned nearly all the letters in his possession, previously to his last illness : and it enables me to carry back the history of these events one step further than Mr. 0. has done. It is dated March 24, ^nd refers to a still earlier, indeed a first proposal from my father. The fact, in short, was this : in soliciting subscriptions from his friends in aid of some benevolent designs which his correspondent was carrying on in Wales, my father called, among others, on the late William Daw, Esq. of Brompton Row, who said, ' I have a few Welsh Bibles by me' — or, ' I could procure some' from what is now denominated the Naval and Military Bible Society : ' would they be of use to your friend ?' In consequence he proposed the question, and the reply was as follows — probably the first expression of urgent want which was conveyed to London. " March 24, 1787. You ask me, ' whether a parcel of Welsh Bibles would be acceptable.' You could think of nothing more acceptable, more wanted, and useful to the country at large. I have been often, in my journeys through different parts of the country, questioned whe- ther I knew where a Welsh Bible could be bought for a small price ; and it has hurt my mind much to be oblig- ed to answer in the negative. There are none to be bought for money, unless some poor person, pinched by 21 250 PROM QUITTING OLNEY [ClIAP. IX. poverty, is obliged to sell his Bible to support himself and family. Mr. Williams's Bibles, with notes, are some of them unsold ; but the price, 18a'., is too high for the poor to command. If you can proc\ire a parcel of them for our poor people, I am sure you will much re- joice the hearts of many, and do them, by the blessing of God, great good. I will promise to dispose of them in the best manner I am able : and I think I could dispose to very good purpose, and make profitable use, of any quantity you could procure for me.'^ Uj)on this followed those letters of my father's from w hich I shall now give extracts. " May 15, 1787. Dear Sir, I received your accept- able letter, which made my heart rejoice, and caused me to render unfeigned thanks to God in your behalf, and the people in your neighbourhood : and to pray for a still further blessing upon your labours, and those of your brethren. May the work of God both sink deeper, and spread wider, till, like the leaven, it leaven the ivhole lump I I have shewn your letter to several, and I trust it afl'ected and influenced them in the same manner; and also in another — for silver and gold I have none to give : but my friends have. In consequence of what you write concerning the scarcity of Welsh Bibles, I have received twenty-five from the Society for distributing Bibles among the soldiers and sailors. . . . and, if they approve of your disposal of them, they will send you some more. Besides this, 1 am collecting money to send you a hun- dred. I have had assistance from Mr. Thornton in this, and probably shall have more. ... I trust this will be an acceptable present, and a seasonable supply ; and I hope many prayers will be offered up in Welsh for my friends and myself, which is the only recompence vvc desire, and which we shall highly value. '^ 1785 1788.] TO COMMENCING HIS COMMENTARY. 251 He mentions the Lock Asylum, then formings and adds ; '' Pray for a blessing upon this and all other attempts of your poor brethren in London : and, though we are so distant in situation, yet, being all engaged in one war- fare, under one captain, against one common enemy, we may be helpful to one anothor by prayers, exhortations, and encouragements. Let us therefore endeavour to keep up the communion of saints ; and may the Lord give us wisdom, holiness, faithfulness, and usefulness, and at length receive us with, Well done, good and faithful servants ! Your affectionate brother in Christ, T. SCOTT.'^ June 11, 1787, he states that he has sent the one hun- dred and twenty-five Bibles altogether ; and that the Asylum is opened. — "1 am surrounded,'' he says, ^^dai- ly with pretty much the same sort of company that my Master was, Luke xv. 1. The Lord grant that I may behave among them in some good measure as he did, and speak to them with the same success ! Most people here are very unbelieving about it, and think no good can be done : but I am enabled to expect great things from the power, mercy, and love of Christ. I would believe, and hope to see the glory of God in their conver- sion. Indeed I do see some good fruits ; and, though there are many disappointments, and I am often ready to be discouraged, yet upon the whole I think 1 may confi- dently say, good is done : and, if God help me to per- severe, and neither faint in, nor grow weary of, nor act inconsistantly with, my work and ofiice, I trust I may ex- pect a good harvest at last. — We have raised money enough to begin with, and I do not wish to have tempt- ations to any thing interested or extravagant. At pres- ent I have refused to have any recom pence for my trou- ble, till the experiment be tried, at least ; and I hope; 252 FROM QUITTING OLNEY [ClIAP. IX. otliei*salso will be as disinterested as they can. I would not have any thing to depend on but God's providence and promise. We want nothing so much as the pour- ing out of tlie Holy Spirit tor their conversion ; and all the rest will be provided for in the Lord's time. " You rather misapprehend my situation, in supposing that I have multiplied opportunities of preaching. For my great benefit, I am left with something about me which is very unacceptable among most of the professoi^ of re- ligion. Some things requisite for popularity I would not have, if I could ; and others I could not have, if I would. This, together with some suspicions concerning the ex- actness of my orthodoxy in the point of election, renders even those, who love me the best, shy of asking me to preach. But I feel it is needful and useful to me, and I submit to it, and am thankful for it ; for my proud heart could never have borne popularity properly : indeed few do. — I trust I am in some degree useful. I do the work allotted me with uprightness, though with many blunders; siiould be willing to do more, if called to it ; and would be submissively out of employ, if the Lord appoints that for me. — My lieart is with you. I pray God to prosper you in your extensive sphere, and make you long a burn- ing and shining light — a useful preacher of, and a bright ornament to the gospel. Begging an interest in your prayers, I remain your affectionate friend and brother, Thos. Scott. ^' January 12, 1788, he mentions diffculties in the way of procuring more Bibles. — " I have got upon a new- scent, but know not how I shall succeed. If we should have opportunity of buying a quantity, how many dare you engage for ? — You need not doubt my willingness to serve you or your people : but at times a man's strength is to sit stilly and wait a convenient season. But, as far 1785 1788.] TO COMMENCING HIS COMMENTARY. 253 as I can with propriety procure either the sale or gift of Welsh Bibles, I shall count it my privilege to send them. ^^ I am myself very busy, very unpopular, and a little useful. I hope to see greater things. Religion of a certain stamp is very fashionable in town, and I get much displeasure for opposing fashionable religion : but I trust God is with me, and that there is an increasing number of helpers." April 30, 1788. There had been " a prospect of ob- taining, through the assistance of another society, and with the help of Mr. Thornton's purse, no less a number than a thousand Welsh Bibles : but, alas V^ he says, " I have only waited for a disappointment." He has, how- ever, the prospect of a few. " I should have been more sorry," he adds, '' at the disappointment, did I not know that it could not have taken place unless the Lord had had wise reasons for permitting it." " February 24, 1789. If no unexpected hindrance arises, you will receive, as soon as they can be got ready and sent, another cargo of Bibles, one hundred to give away, at Mr. Thornton's expence, and the other two or three hnndred to sell .... I believe that the whole im- pression of Welsh Bibles is now nearly exhausted ; and I would be thankful that the Lord has made me, almost without any thought of it, an instrument of bringing a considerable number out of the warehouses, to be dissem- inated where they were wanted." October 19, 1792. A further supply of Bibles had been procured through another friend, and he says, " I trust that the Lord, who hath put it into the hearts of so many in Wales to love his holy word, will also put it into the hearts of their more wealthy brethren in Eng- land to use effectual methods of supplying them with Bibles. I have no counsel to offer ; but am ready to be '■i54 I'HOM (lUITTIKC; 01.NET, cVc. [ClIAP. IX, t active ill the good service in any way I can. — I rejoice to hear, that your ])co|)le go on well, and are a comfort to you : and I think I do led more willingness than for- merly, that others should have the satisfaction of enlarg- ed usefulness, and I the mortification of much disap- pointment in that respect." Letters of a later date announce the new edition of the Welsh Bihle in 1799, consisting of ten thousand Bihles, and two thousand additional copies of the New Testa- ment ; out of which he appears to have procured eight or nine hundred copies of the whole Bihle : and the correspendence closes, May 3, 1800, with observing, ^' The demand has already so far exceeded the impres- sion, that each person is put off with fewer than he appli- ed for, and thought he had secured." 1788 — 1S17.] COMMENTARY ON THE SCRIPTURES. 255 CHAPTER X. HIS COMMENTARY ON THE SCRIPTURES.— DEATH OF MRS. SCOTT. ^^ As I had read over the whole scripture repeatedly, I trust with constant prayer, and considering how almost every verse might be applied, as if I had been called to preach upon it ; I had often thought that I should like to preach through the Bible : for instruction from every part crowded upon my mind, as I read and meditated from day to day. While I was in this frame of mind, a proposal was made to me to write notes on the scriptures, to be published, with the sacred text, in weekly num- bers. On this proposal, I consulted some, who, as I un- derstood, well knew the persons making it, and were themselves respectable characters. I also consulted my own friends, and certainly made it, for some time, a con- stant part of my prayers to be directed aright concern- ing it : but I am convinced that I did not deliberate, con- sult, and pray, so long as I should have done ; that I was too hasty in determining ; and that a great mixture of self-confidence, and presumption of competency for an undertaking, which, if not already executed, I should at present tremble to think of, combined with my desire of being usefully employed. I had hardly an idea of the arduousness of the work, and of the various kinds of ta- lent and knowledge which it required ; of most of which -50 tiOMMLNTAUY ON [ChAP. X. I was at that time destitute. My inclination biassed my judgment. — I must also own, that a guinea a week, with some collateral advantages, which I was to receive, prom- ised to be no unacceptable addition to my scanty income ; while twenty-five gratuitous copies of the work would prove a useful present to my different relations ; to which purpose I actually applied them. — It was also a gratification to my active mind, that the proposed work would give me full employment ; which I most of all desired. '^ It never, I own, occurred to me at this time, that any man would undertake a publication, which must, at the lowest computation, cost 2,000/., or 3,000/. ; and which would require 35/. to be paid down every week ; relying entirely on the sale of an incipient Vvork of an obscure author to carry him through it ! This proved that I knew little of the world : for such presently ap- peared to be the situation of the projector. Yet none of my friends cautioned me on this ground. " After having proceeded so far as to have, beyond expectation, the most encouraging prospects of public acceptance : and having become more and more enthusi- astically fond of the employment; I learned, when fif- teen numbers had been printed, that, unless money could be procured from my friends, the design must be aban- doned. I'he pretence, indeed, was, that I was likely to exceed the limits proposed, of one hundred, after- wards extended to one hundred and twenty, numbers : but it was manifest, both from the early period of the complaint, and still more by the event, that the money and credit of the publishers were exhausted. — In these circumstances, I could not bear to think of dropping so promising a design : and I had not courage to venture on executing it on my own account: though liberal 1788 1817.] THE SCRIPTURES, 257 offers of pecuniary assistance were made me for that pur- pose. The best object of my undertaking has been an- swered far beyond my hopes : but I stumbled on the worst plan^ as to secular matters, that could have been adopted ; and my vexations, and distresses, and losses, have been a merciful, yet painful correction of my rash- ness, presumption, and folly. " It is not worth while to detail the particulars of my perplexities, and temporary resources, and renewed dif- ficulties, and new plans ; or of the debts which I con- tracted, in order to support the sinking credit of the pub- lisher,— for one person only now sustained that character, the other having speedily seceded. Suffice it to say, that, by the help of friends, and by sinking some legacies which came to me, I supported him to the close ; though the expence far exceeded calculation, and indeed what would have been the amount in the hands of a prudent and solvent publisher.'' The cost of this first edition (amounting to three thousand copies !) was not less, I believe, than 6,000/. or 7,000/. The publisher reckoned it at 10,000/. or 11,000/. " The work extended, indeed, much beyond its pro- posed limits, reaching to one hundred and seventy-four numbers instead of one hundred and forty, to which it had been fixed : but all beyond the one hundred and forty numbers I printed at my own expence and risque ; and all beyond one hundred and sixty-four I actually gave away to all purchasers of the work who would ac- cept them ; though that portion cost me much above 200/. "At the close I calculated, in the most favourable manner, my own pecuniary concern in the work : and the result was, that, as nearly as I could ascertain, I had nei- ther gained nor lost, but had performed the whole for 2 K 258 COMMENTARY ON [ClIAP. X. notliing. As far as I liad lioped for some addition to my income, I was completely disappointed : but, as providence otherwise supported my family, and upheld my credit, I felt well satisfied : and even rejoiced in havinj;^ laboured, often far beyond what my health and spirits could well endure, in a work which had been pleasant and profitable to me, and which I hoped would prove useful to others. " But, alas ! much beyond my expectation, my pecu- niary difficulties were only commencing, instead of hav- ing corwft to a close. Besides printing, as has been al- ready stated, ail the latter part of the work (from the beginning of St. liuke,) on my own account, I had ad- vanced the publisher more than 800/. — a sum which far exceeded all that I was worth. Still, as the copy-right (which is in such cases usually made the publisher's,) had been mortgaged, or conditional iy resold, to me for security of this money? I thought myself safe. — More- over, as the work was now finished^ and sold well, and the publisher had for some months been exempted from all outgoings on account of it : I had little fear of his being unable to stand his ground : and hence 1 increased my actual loss, which followed, by declining to receive some money that I might have had, because I thought a near relation of his ought to be relieved from the serious em- barrassment in which, 1 was told, he had. involed himself in order to serve him. " Even my most sagacious friends, and those more con- V ersant with transactions of this nature, were of opinion that the publishers credit was so low, that even in case uf failure his debts could not amount to any large sum : but, in the event, on his executing a deed of assignment to his creditors, (within five months after the Bible was completed,) claims were made on his estate to the amount of above 10,000/. Still, however, with the latter part 1788 — 1817.] THE SCRIPTURES. 259 of the work in my possession; and with the copyright pledged to me, and vested in me, unless redeemed by the payment of all that was my due ; it appeared to me, that I could have come in, even before a bill of sale, (which he had given.) and have secured my debt, by rendering all the former part of the work of little value without my concurrence. A statute of bankruptcy would certainly have left me the copyright, and the concluding part of the work. But I feared that thus to secure payment in full to myself, while scarcely any thing was left to the other creditors, would appear a dishonourable transaction. I said, ' I can go on with my ministry creditably, if I lose 200/. or 300/. ; but if I lose my character for integrity^ or even bring it into suspicion, I cannot.' I consented, therefore, to come in as a creditor under a deed of trust, delivering up all the latter part of the work in my pos- session, only retaining the copy -right irredeemably. — At first, some creditors were clamorous against my pro- posal : but, the solicitor employed soon shewing them their mistake, my offer was acceded to unanimously : and, at the close of the business, I received from the w^hole company the unavailing compensation of thanks for my disinterestedness. '' 1 at first supposed, as I believe the other trustees did, that a dividend of 7^. or 8^. in the pound would be obtained : but I never received more than is. 2d. in the pound on my 840/., and that after long delays. " Thus all my little property, arising from a legacy of 150/. from a relation, another of 100/. from John Thornton, Esq., and some others of smaller amount, was sunk as in a vortex; and I was left at least 500/. in debt. Host full 500/. by the publication, besides all my labour, and 200/. given me by my friends in consideration of what had occurred. ^^ But what was still worse, I fell into discredit as 260 COMMENTARY ON [ChAP. X. to the nianagement of secular a/Fairs ; of which I felt the effects in rather a mortifying manner a few years after, when tlie trustees determined to sell off all the residue of the edition. This I could have purchased for 420/. ; and I was morally certain that it would produce me more than twice that sum, hesides pre- cluding all questions about the copy right : but I could not raise the money. At least, being discouraged by those liberal friends who had before assisted me, I gave it up in despondency, — or rather, I trust, in resignation to the will of God ; though aware of the consequences, and constantly affirming, that the loan of 420/. at that period would serve me more than the gift of 500/. a year afterwards. " The whole residue, together with the copper-plates from which certain prints accompanying the work had been taken, was in consequence sold, in 1798, for 450/.* to a person who purchased it w ith permission from me to reprint as much as forty-one numbers, to complete sets, on condition of paying me an acknowledgement of one guinea for each number reprinted. This condition, how- ever, he disregarded ; and, on the ground of possessing the copper-plates, assumed a liberty of printing at his pleasure, — thus virtually advancing a claim to the copy- right. No bookseller therefore could be expected to en- gage in a new edition, unless the work were taken en- tirely out of this purchaser's hands : which led me, about afterwards, to inquire the terms on which he would part with what yet remained unsold ; when he demanded 900/. * In a letter handed to me since this sheet was at the press, he says : "I would rather have given 1000/. could I have raised the money, than let it he so disposed of. It was like the execution of a dear friend ; I would not be present; and I believe the other trus- tees did not take all proper precautious for my security." 1788 1817.] THE SCRIPTURES. 261 for it, though he acknowledged that he had ah^eady re- ceived douhle the purchase money, and had incurred com- paratively little expence ! " These circumstances, however unfavourable to my temporal interests at the time, have proved a most im- portant benefit to the work. Had I sold it to the book- sellers, as I should have done, could I have secured it against encroachment, without having recourse to Chan- cery ; I could hardly have failed of being cramped by them, as to the expensive improvements which I contem- plated : but, retaining it in my own hands, I added, in a new edition, fifty sheets to the comment, at an expence of 700/. ; besides the marginal references, which cost more than 1000/. printing. " Many, no doubt, have wondered what could induce me to involve myself in pecuniary transactions to the ex- tent I have done, which have required me to contract debts that I have not yet been able wholly to liquidate ; and to struggle w^ith difficulties beyond the conception of most persons, and wholly beside my inclination, and my talent and turn of mind. This may appear the more ex- traordinary, after I had firmly declined the most liberal ofl*ers of assistance, to enable me to take the work out of the original publisher's hands, and to print it on my own account, — on the ground that this would so occupy my mind about pecuniary concerns, as to unfit me for the work itself. But the fact was, I had now no other alter- native left, if I would improve the first rough sketch of a work, which I always deemed the grand business of my life. I must either leave the whole to be reprinted by the person above referred to, sheet by sheet, after the old edition, according as one number or another might be wanted ; or I must have recourse to Chancery — whicli I greatly dreaded ; or I must print on my own account. i^62 COMMEM ARY ON [ChAP. X. which 1 knew 1 could legally do. — The very friends also, who before declined advancing me 420/., now offered to lend me considerably more; and some others concurred. The booksellers likewise assured me that, as soon as the work was so far advanced that there were any volumes for sale, it would pay its own expences. Thus encouraged I ventured to undertake it. •"• For a considerable time all went on well with my new edition. The sale actually answered the expenditure, though that was little short of 1000/. a year : and it ap- peared probable that a profit would accrue to me suffi- cient to reimburse my former losses. But at length such an enormous rise took place in the price of paper, attend- ed by a considerable advance in the charge of printing, as, together with the additions I made to the work, caus- ed my estimates to turn out nearly lOOO/. too low ; and the sale of the whole edition scarcely cleared more than prime cost. Indeed every page I added increased my expence, without at all advancing the price of the book — which had been fixed from the first : and I actually paid at the rate of 13/. for every additional sheet, for the pri- vilege of improving my work. " To conclude this subject at once. I have been fa- voured to live to superintend a third edition ; and by that I have fared somewhat better : but, except the sum given for the copy-right since that edition was concluded, I cer- tainly have not cleared so much as 1000/. for thelaboui^ of above twenty-one years. — I do not, however, regret'this. (iod has provided for me and mine very graciously : by means of this publication my grand design, of accomplish- ing from the press what 1 found myself little capable of efiecting from the pulpit, has eventually succeeded be- yond my expectations : and I needed my trials and diffi- culties, both to correct the many evils connected with the 1788 1817.] THE SCRIPTURES. 263 undertakings and to counterbalance any flattering cir- cumstances arising out of it.'' This history of the production and publication of my father's Commentary on the Bible was written in the year 1812. Early in the following year all the transac- tions relative to it were brought under the review of the Court of Chancery, in consequence of the person who had purchased the residue of the first edition asserting a claim to the copy-right, and endeavouring to support an injunc- tion against my father, and the booksellers to whom the work was now sold. The inj unction was in the first instance granted, but it was immediately dissolved on the case being heard. I have, in some parts, a little enlarged and cleared up the narrative from the report of the proceed- ings on that occasion. A friend, present in court, wrote to my father as follows, immediately after the decision : "The Chancellor went into all the transactions very mi- nutely indeed ; in the course of which he spoke of your conduct, as author, creditor, trustee, and, at one period, proprietor and publisher of the work, in the most hon- ourable terms." — One short extract from the printed re- port may be given. It was contended by counsel against my father, that one of the agreements into which he had entered with the original publisher was " illegal, as being a laical dealing, contrary to the canons :'' on which his Lordship remarked, in giving judgment, "Whether it is so or not, I am not now called to inquire ; but 1 think I am not going far out of my way to say, that the laical dealings of a clergyman can never be less the subject of blame, than when they consist in writing, and promoting the circulation of explanatory notes on the Bible.'' Previously to this decision, besides all the injury he had suifered in his property, my father and his publishers were assailed by advertisements and pla- cards, strongly 264 fJOMMENTARY ON [ChAP. X. reflecting upon their character and proceedings. But the question was now finally set at rest^ and the work has been exposed to no subsequent molestation. This great work of my father's life was begun January 2, 1788 ; the first number was published March 22, fol- lowing ; and the last copy was finished for the press, June 2, 1792: during which period the whole was twice writ- ten over by his own hand. One great error committed w^as. beginning to publish so soon after entering upon the composition. This caused the author to be distressingly hurried throughout his whole progress. Sick or well, he was obliged to complete his weekly task ; except as in some few^ instances he was compelled to plead for a short respite^ by the suspension of the publication. I have actually known him^ with great difficulty and suf- fering, prepare as much copy as he thought would com- plete the current number^ and then, when he had retired to bed and taken an emetic, called up again to furnish more, what he had provided being insufficient for the purpose! It is needless to point out how injurious to a work, as well as distressing to an author, such a hurried execution must be ; and the reader will agree with me in thinking it surprising, that a work, so composed, should have been found to posess such intrinsic merit, and gain such accep- tance as it did, even in its most unimproved state. One effect was perhaps on the whole an advantage — especially as any disadvantages accompanying it have been removed by the authors subsequent indefatigable labours — namely, that he was compelled, in the first instance, to be in so great a degree original : to give the result of his own re- flections almost alone. There was little time to consult, much less to transcribe from other authors. Some time after the conclusion of the work, the origi- nal publisher actually printed all the correspondence which 1788 1817.] THE SCRIPTURES. 265 had passed between my father and himself during its progress ; hoping to shew that he was injured, and per- haps to drive my father to make him some reparation : but I believe the phamphlet completely defeated its own purpose, with all who were permitted to see it entire. On the whole v/e may venture to assert, that all the labour, vexation, and distress which attended this work, were such as never will nor can be known. But it v» as to answer important ends : and great troubles generally precede great successes. A playful sally of my father's mind may explain the view which he took of his situa- tion, while the work was in progress. The publisher wish- ed that the author's portrait should accompany it : ' No' said my father, ' if one of us appears^^ we will both ap- pear together, — upon the same jaded horse, in the mid- dle of a miry lane, in which it may be impossible to de- cide whether it is more advisable to push forwand, or to attempt a return.' I shall now^ present the reader with extracts of letters relating to the times and subjects of this chapter. To the Rev. J. Ryland, June 1, 1789 : " My engage- ments are so many, and my embarrassments have been so great of late, that I have not been able to get on as I ought. Ny situation is difficult, but not without its use- fulness As my coming to town has introduced me to this (the publication of the Commentary,) and some other things which I trust will be useful, I cannot repent of coming : but I much question whether I can keep my station or not. I have made a bold march into an enemy's country ; and, if I cannot make good my ground, I hope I shall be able to make an honourable retreat. I trust you do not forget to pray for me, for I much need and value your prayers." ^ T 266 Commentary on [Chap. X. To the same, Janunry 12, 1791. — The following ex- tract relates to a small publication, which, like some others, came in, as by a parenthesis, during the progress of the Bible. — ^' I have been so engaged that I have almost killed myself. In a discourse which you may see adver- tiz( d. occasioned by the death of Mr. Thornton, with no name to it, and that never was preached, (on 2 Cor. v. 14, 13,) I have had a considerable hand ; and it has cost me the more trouble, because I had not the whole direc- tion of it ; though I am answeralde for its doctrines. This, added to my other engagements, has made me more than Work enough, and I am not well at present. I would not have it publicly avowed that I am the author of the above-mentioned discourse, till a few weeks have elapsed : for there is a peculiar aim in it, at a class of people wloni my name would prejudice I bless God, that I may take it for granted, that the laiv of God. and not the carnal mind, and its powei^ and inclinations, is the rule and standard ot man's duty : otherwise I could not preach or write without shackles^ on any subject whatever.^' The discourse here referred to was composed at the request of the late Henry Thornton, Esq., who also made several contributions towards it. The reasons which prompted the proposal were these : Mr. H. T. was sensible that many persons contemplated the charac- ter and proceedings of his late father with astonishment, and many even with admiration, who had no just concep- tion of the religious principles, which moved him to a course of conduct so unlike that of men of wealth and extensive business in general ; and so much exceeding the ordinary standard even of more serious and pious characters. It appeared to him therefore very desira- ble to explain the subject to such persons ; to take to 1788 — 1817.] THE SCRIPTURES. ' 267 pieces, so to speak, the machine whose movements surpri- sed them, and exhibit the secret springs by which the ef- fect was produced. The following extract, addressed to the same friend, on finishing the Commentary, will not fail to interest those who have found edification in the perusal of the work itself. ^Oune 26, 1792. I have had my hands full, and my heart too, by 's means, and am not likely to be soon rescued from a variety of concerns, in which my connex- ion with him in this publication has involved me. But he that hath hitherto helped me will, I trust, extricate me from all remaining difficulties : and it was needful that the whole progress of the work should be stamped with mortification, perplexity, and disappointment, if the Lord meant me to do any good to others by it, and to preserve me from receiving essential injury in my own soul. Four years, five months, and one day were em- ployed in the work, with unknown sorrow and vexation : yet, if I have the best success in the sale of it, I can ex- pect no emolument at all, except the profit on the sets I sell ; whereas I may lose considerable sums. But I feel quite satisfied on that head : and, if any real good be done to a few souls by means of the whole, I am at pres- ent disposed to be thankful, even though I should lose both money, credit, and friends by means of it. I never thought I should live to conclude it ; and it seems to me as a dream now I have, and I can scarcely think it a reality. Much Cause for thankfulness, and much for humiliation, I see, upon the review of the whole transaction. I meant well^ but I engaged hastily, and made many egregious blun- ders : yet I hope, through the Lord's goodness, all will end well. I do not think that my health is injured by my intense application ; but my spirits are surprisingly '268 COMMIATAUY ON [CaAP. X. broken : iiiid, w Iicreas 1 used to ri«e above difliculties, by a certiiin alacrity and stoutness of mind, which I took for strong faith and much patience, I am now ready to be alarmed and dejected en every occasion ; and have shed more tears since I began this work, than probably I did in all the former years of my life." In this letter he mentions preaching twice one Sunday at Margate. These sermons were productive, in one res- pect, of rather a singular result. In consequence of the absurd representations of them which were made to the Archbishoj) of Canterbury, the curate was called up to Lambeth. Having procured, however, of my father, written sketches of the two sermons, w^hich he submit- ted to his Grace, no more was heard of the business. The following extracts of letters to his elder sister, relate to his pecuniary losses by the Bible^ and his state cf mind under them. ^' October 25, 1792. I was w^orth nothing, except my furniture, when I engaged in this work, (the Commen- tary,) and if, after some bequests made to me, I should he in the same case when it is done with, I may, and I hope I shall say. The Lord gave^ and the Lord hath ta- ken away J blessed he the name of the Lord. — I might have spent my time more unpleasantly, as well as unpro- fita!)ly, than in the labour I have had ; which, in some respect?, has been its own reward : and, if any human being g(^ts any real good hy it, that forms an additional reason for my being satisfied and thankful : whilst the manifold evil that has connected with the whole business requires forgiveness, and excludes all idea of my being entitled to any reward from the Lord ; and I must be very ignorant of human nature, to expect much from men for such an undertaking. — I thought you would wish to know the state of my mind under what may be deemed a trial, but which does not much discompose me. i788 1817.] THE SCRIPTURES. 269 I have a fair prospect of paying all their due^ and that satisfies me.'^ In 1794 he had more fully ascertained the extent of his losses^ and he thus writes : — " March 4. If I said that I was sorry I had written so much on the Bible, I own it was my infirmity : but I do not recollect that I ever expressed myself so strongly ; though the loss of all my little property, and feeling my- self encumbered with a debt of 300/. or 400/., without any thing to pay it except a very precarious income, did try me for a time very sharply. But I am now quite satisfied, yea, thankful ; for various circumstances more and more convince me, that it will in time so acqiure sta- bility, and produce durable good effects, that I am aware mortifications by the way were needful for me. The Lord has also peculiarly favoured me this year ; and I have emerged at least 200/. from my depth of debt within about fifteen months. One friend made me a present of 100/. towards my loss. So I say. As for me^ I am poor and needy y but the Lord careth for me : and I have at present no uneasiness about it." In 1798, as above related, the residue of the original edition was to be sold. Having stated his inability to raise 400/. for the purchase of it, he remarks : " The labour, loss, and diequietude, have been, and are mine ; but the profit must be given to others. Yet I doubt not this is ordered in wisdom, faithfulness, and love." The following passages relate to the preparation of an entire new edition ; the first with marginal references. They are from letters addressed to myself. ^^ March 14, 1798. I am either more indolent than formerly, or I do not stand work so well. I feel a need for the petition wliich Mr. Whitefield often made, ' that the Lord would keep me from growing slack in the lat~ -^70 COMMENTARY ON [ChAF. X. tcr stages of my journey/ — I every day however correct something of the Hil)le, besides ])reparing the Essays for repii])lication, teaching, &c. ; and I feel a strong desire, by some means or other, if I am spared, to have the pub- lisliing of it in my own hands, when a new edition is wanted ; which will probably be ere long. 1 seem to think I could make great improvements : and I am more than ever convinced, that a Family Bible, which gains acceptance, is one of the most effectual vehicles of antidote against all loose views of the gospel, that can be ; because it gets into the families of persons who have any serious- ness, even where public teachings lean to antinomianism ; and may thus greatly counteract the effect.'' '' Febuary 23, 1800. I am very closely engaged in the business of preparing a new edition of the Family Bible : indeed, it takes as much mending, thus lar, as it did writing.'' ^^ March 3, 1800. I have resumed my attention to the Hebrew, and read every part in that, and in the Greek ; which often suggests useful hints and cautions. But revising tlie references in Brown (to make a selection, to be inserted chiefly at the end of each note,) is the great labour statedly occurring." Before this month elapsed, he informed me, that he had " determined to have a selection of mai^ginal refe- rences." " October 29. You say I am in your debt as a cor- respondent ; and indeed I am in the way to be in every one's debt, in this respect as well as others ; and here, at least, to be insolvent. I must however not only intreat, but demand to be dealt with on other terms than many arc, as I am doing a grkap um'h, at least, whether a good one or not : and I find, as I pro- ceed, so much wants mending, and I can so little sa- 1788 1817.] THE SCRIPTURES. 271 tisfy myselfj that T can hardly hope to satisfy others. I work very hard, and yet I do not get on at the rate of more than a sheet and a half in a week ; and do not finish any one chapter according to the ideal completeness which I had framed in my mind. I trust the work has thus far been improved much : and I still flatter myself with the hope of getting on faster presently, and of reducing some parts into a narrower compass : but this has not hitherto been the case. The language is throughout abridged; but then new ideas are added. . . I do not think any of you, that make remarks on the different parts of the w^ork, can possibly conceive what it is to keep the ivhole in view, and to finish any chapter as a part of this whole. Had I known and felt this formerly as I now do, I should never have dared to engage in a work, for which every day makes me more and more feel my incompe- tency. Yet, as it has pleased God to give it so much of an establishment, I must now go on, and do what I can. But I must deprecate criticism, especially that of those who are disposed to judge of a chapter as of a short es- say, instead of considering of what a vast whole it forms a part. — I am however very glad of your obser- vations, sent in the manner they have lately been. They very often suggest improvements beyond what you, perhaps, had in view. . . Your remarks on Leviticus x. made me, at least, a hard days work : and yet I do not think you will be satisfied with what I have done. Here especially I note that you seem to have forgotten how I wrote, sick or well, in spirits or out, lively or dull : the tale of bricks must be delivered. I agree with you, that great points give the best occasion to practical observa- tions ; but that is when a man has the genius, and is in frame to improve them : and I often feel a sad deficiency in both respects. Indeed, my maturer judgment may 272 COMMENTARY ON [ClIAP. X. (Oircct ami improve what I formerly wrote ; but I verily believe I am now incapable of writing, de. novo, so much to the purpose, and so rapidly, as I then did. I would however query, whether leading the ordinary reader from verse to verse, with useful observations, though not striking to persons of superior cultivation, may not be as beneficial in teaching him to think, and deduce instruc- tion for himself. — But enough of this.'' The close of this passage may be considered as the au- thor's reply to those who have thouglit, that it might have been an advantage had the Practical Observations, after all particulars had been explained in the notes, taken up the more genei^al topics which a review of the whole suggest- ed, rather than again have retraced the passage from verse to verse, which not unfrecpiently (especially in the Epistles,) leads to a repetition of what had occur- red in the explanation. In the historic parts, the plan alluded to is frequently adopted : and hence the most in- teresting reflections not uncommonly occur on apparently unpromising chapters.* " January 27, 1803. I am obliged to you for your hints on some of the Psalms, particularly the xvth. and xxiid. I write a great part of the notes over again. I was very ill, and very much discouraged, when I hurried over this part of the work : and as I am vastly desirous of doing something less inadequate on this most delightful part^of scripture, I wish you, with all freedom, to give me your sentiments. A man who reads at leisure, and has a tolerable measure of taste and judgment, will strike out thoughts, and ways of stating things, which his equal or superior, in labouring through his daily task, would not hit on." * See, for example, the Practical Observations on Genesis v.-— the catalogue of antediluvian patriarchs. 1788—1817.] THE SCRIPTURES. 273 The observation here made is one, to the benefit of which every commentator is certainly entitled. The preacher, or writer of remarks on particular passages, selects those parts of scripture which strike his* mind, on which he has something, perhaps, more than com- mon to offer : the regular commentator must travel through all alike ; and may thus perhaps rise to a less height on many given passages than even inferior men may attain. In 1807, before the edition in hand was completed, all the earlier volumes were so nearly sold off, that it became necessary to commence a new one. On this occasion the question recurred, whether my father should undertake the publication on his own account, or dispose of the work • to the booksellers : and it was again decided in favour of the former plan, for the same reason as before, — that he might be at full liberty to give it every improvement in his power. '^ It would certainly," he says, ^* be more agreeable to me to pay all the sums which I owe, and to have no further concern with the trading part of the service : but I do not at present feel this much of a bur- den to me ; and I am concious that I have property suffi- cient, and more than sufiicient to discharge all in due time ; and that both the debts and the dealings were the result of a wish to do my best to promote the cause of true reli- gion, and proceeded not either from the desire of world- ly lucre or honour or from a scheming spirit. It was the only possible plan at the time.'' The same letter (dated March 11,) gives the following notice of the progress which the work was making on the other side of the Atlantic, and of ^^ a mark of esteem and regard'' there conferred upon the author, of which, though he would meet it with a return of respect and gratitude, he never thought it proper further to avail himself. — ^^ I 2M 274 COMMENTARY ON [ClIAP X. had two letters from North America about three week§ since, in one of which I am informed by a bookseller, that he has twelve hundred subscribers for the Bible, and expects a great many more ; and that it is read with approbation by the religious people of all descriptions. As a proof of this approbation, the packet contained a paix;hment by which I am constituted D. D. by the Dick- ensonian College, Carlisle, Pennsylvania, by persons whose names I never before heard. What use I may make of this honorary distinction is a subsequent consideration : but the whole encourages me to hope that my labour is not in vain.'' The letters referred to (which are now before me,) assured him that, " if he could know half the extent of good which had already resulted to the interests of our glorious Redeemers kingdom in that country, from his Commentary and other works, his joy would befull?^ In April 1809, we find the third edition advanced about half way to its completion. " I was not aware,'' the author writes, " at the beginning of the former edi- tion, that the nature of the work would render the print- ing so tedious ; (for it never stopped for me one day, ex- cept when I lost the preface ;) and nine years was far more than I looked forward to : . . . but three years, that is, a year and a half from this time, may without dif- ficulty finish the present edition On the whole, I believe few persons would have found courage and per- tinacity to struggle through all the difliculties of so vast an undertaking, as compared with my circumstances: and, though many may see, or think they see, misaikes in my manner of conducting the work, on the most careful re- view, I cannot see how I could, consistently with my prin- ciples, and with reserving the copy-right, have done ma- terially better. I have accomplished my object ; and am 1788 — 1817.] THE SCRIPTURES. » %75 more disposed to rejoice and be thankful, than to com- plain.'^ At the close of 1810, my father contracted with the present proprietors for the sale of the copy-right, for which he eventually received 2,000/., and for the re- maining copies of the third edition. The following year they proceeded with a new edition : and near the close of 1812 the injunction against them was obtained, by re- presentations which could not be substantiated. My fa- ther wrote concerning it, as follows, January 22, 1813. ^^ Could it be established, the consequences would be, the sweeping away of all my little property ; the locking up of 5,000/. expended by the purchasers of the copy-right> besides the money paid me, — which they would have a right to reclaim ; and the perpetuating of the first edition, with all its imperfections on its head, to the exclusion of all subsequent improvements ; unless some compromise could be submitted to It is wholly in the breast of one man (the Chancellor to decide : but that man's heart is in the hand of the Lord ! Pray that I may be enabled to act as it becomes a Christian, and an aged mi- nister of Christ, in the business ; and, as to the rest, the will of the Lord be done. Another extract of about the same date is communi- cated to me by the Rev. Mr. Mayor. " An instance of his disinterestedness,*' says that esteemed friend, " I have before me, when relating the difiiculties he was placed in by 's suit. Besides the r»in which it would be to his property, which would oblige him to throw himself upon his creditors, and for maintenance upon God's providence, he laments the heavy loss it would be to the purchasers of the copy-right, and adds : ' Should he succeed, it would render all my labours in this respect, for the last twenty years, at present useless. 27b COMMENTARY ON [ChAP. X. But, it' God see the work suited to be an instrument for promoting his glory, neither the devil nor his factoi*s ean hinder its circulation : if not, let it go to the dogs. As to the rest, were I a poet, I would add another line about authore to those of Virgil, * Sic vos non vobis vellera fertis, oves,* &c. If good be done, let both the profit and the credit go to others. I exult that I am not the injurious, but the in- jured party.' '' Mr. Mayor proceeds : " From a sub- sequent letter of the 12th of February, 1813, I could not but admire his perseverance, in preparing a new edition to be printed at some future period, notwithstanding the uncertainty of the present use or emolument to be made of it." February 11th, after having been twice in London upon the subject, he says : ^^ I finished my answer to 's aflidavit, made my own, and signed it on the 29th ult. ; and, after a most wearisome time to body and mind, returned home on the 30th, fully expecting to hear the Chancellors decision in a few days : but hitherto I have heard nothing I was very poorly in town, worse than usual, and feared returning home quite ill : but I did not. I have, however, been very weak and low since, as if recovering from a fever ; but I rather get better, and the spring is coming on. Close study, which is too much for me, is, next to prayer, my chief relief from gloomy tlioughts : but they are not so much about my temporal venations, as concerning the reason why God thus contends with me. . . . While fully conscious before Him, that I never meant to injure any man, so many other things recur to my remembrance, as to the presum- tion of my undertaking, and all the evil attending the whole prosecution of it, that I ani often much cast down : yet hope prevails.'' 1788 1817.] THE SCRIPTURES. | 277 The foliowing extracts of a letter addressed to his daughter, tw o days previously, further illustrate his stPte of mind at this anxious period. — The first is from another hand. " February 9, 1813. Your father returned from Lon- don very poorly^ but^ through mercy, not laid up as on former occasions ; for the next day he preached two ex- cellent sermons, on, Set your affections on thins^s above, and, The end of all things is at hand. The first espe- cially was most admirable.'' The next is his own addition to the letter. " speaks as if a final settlement of ^'s business might soon be expected ; but I am far from being so sanguine. The gross blunders of my former lawyers, and the clumsiness of the deeds, throw intricacy on what we might think so plain that the event was certain. What the partners are doing I cannot conceive. Eleven days have elapsed since I completed my answer, which I supposed would have been brought into court directly. . . . However I am not anxious. Let who will take property and credit, if the Lord Jesus does but receive my soul ! But should it go wholly against me, I shall never more, as far as I can see, have money for travelling expences, except unavoidable." The next letter (dated March 12th,) brought intelli- gence that the injunction was dissolved. The partners handsomely defrayed all expences of the suit : and here my father's embarassments, though not his labours, res- pecting his Commentary ended. The first edition of this work, completed in 1792, consisted originally of three thousand copies : but, after all that remained of it had been sold in 1798, for 450/., (the retail price of little more than one hundred copies,) it continued to be reprinted, as diiferent parts 278 ,j^^ COMMENTARY ON [ClIAP. X. were wanted, by the purchaser, and afterwards by otliers into whose hands it came, and who advertized their re- prints as a third edition ; and was sold exclusively till 1802, and then jointly with my father^s editions till 1814 : so that it is making a low calculation to say, that it ex- tended to fi\^ thousand copies. The first edition ivitli references^ commenced in 1802, and completed in 1809, consisted of two thousand : the second begun in 1807, and finished in 1811, of the same number: the third, which was in the course of publication from 1812 to 1814, of three thousand. The edition, on the revision of which the author laboured from the year 1818 till the very commencement of his last illness, and which is just completed, is in stereotype ; and forms, I presume, the largest work ever submitted to that process. The copy was fully prepared by himself for the press to the end of 2 Timothy iii. 2 : and for the remainder he left a copy of the preceding edition, corrected, though less perfectly, to the very end of the Revelation ; from which the work has been finished, according to his own final directions, and in concert with his family, under the care of a person who had been his literary assistant in carrying it on, and in whom he placed entire confidence. Besides these English editions, amounting to at least twelve thousand copies, I have received, from an Ameri- can bookseller of respectability, the particulars of eight editions printed within the territories of the United States, at Philadelphia, New York, Boston, and Hartford, from the year 1808 to 1819. amounting to twenty-five thou- sand two hundred and fifty copies : besides an edition of the sacred text only with my father's references, contents of the chapters, and introductions to the several books of scripture. The retail price of all the English copies, taking their 1788 — 1817.] THfi SCRIPTURES. A ^79 number as above stated, (which I believe to be short of the truth,) would, I find, amount to the sum of 67,600/. : that of the American copies, to 132,300/. making together 199,900/. Probably no theological work can be pointed out, which produced, by its sale during the author's life- time, an equal vSum. As it has been suggested, that the greater circulation of the work in America may be ascribed to the more free competition in that country, where no copy-right could exist, and the consequent lower price at which it might be sold, I will further add, that I find, on a careful calcula- tion, that the average price of the English copies has been under 51. 135. that of the American copies very nearly 51. 5s. ; and, when it is considered that a much larger proportion of the American copies, than of the English, has been without references ; that eight thous- and five hundred of the former, and none of the latter have been in octavo ; and that half the American edi- tions have consisted of much greater numbers, (from four thousand to five thousand,) than the English, and could therefore be afforded at a cheaper rate ; it will not appear, from this instance, that our transatlantic breth- ren have so much the advantage of us as may be supposed. It is also to be observed, that, in the case of these fo- reign editions, " the* ox that treadeth out the corn^' is completely " muzzled ;'' no portion of profit whatever being reserved for the author. This is a consideration, however, which gave the author of the work in question no concern. He wrote to do good ; in order to which it was necessary to be read : he derived, therefore, unmin- gled satisfaction from the tidings of the success of his works on the American continent ; where he had reason to believe, that an infusion of his plain, practical, scrip- 280 t, DEATH OP MUS. SCOTT, [ChAP. X tural divinity was much wanted, and might prove highly sahitary. To his history of his Commentary my father subjoins the foljovving paragraph : ^^ In the same year that the Bible was begun, my youngest son (Benjamin) was born, and two years and a half afterwards, in September 1790, my wife died ; while my hands were full of employment, and my heart of most overwhelming cares: so that my distress and anguish, at that period, were beyond whatever will be known or conceived by others, at least in this world. But the Lord, in unspeakable mercy, gave me my present wife, who has proved in every respect a blessing tome and my children ; a veryuseful assistant in my various labours ; and I trust an instrument of good to numbers." I shall add little to what my father has here said upon this subject. Of the overwhelming distress which he felt on my mother's decease, I could bear striking testi- mony : and many could join me in declaring the tender affection with which he ever cherished her memory. If any one should be ready to think the fact of his marrying again, within much less time than is usual on such occa- sions, an evidence to the contrary, I confidently affirm that such a person is mistaken ; and I fully believe that, if the whole case could be fairly laid* before a wise and im- partial judge, he would justify my father's conduct. Let it be considered in what circumstances he was left — with four children of an age peculiarly requiring superin- tendence— without any person to take chargeof them su- perior to a servant — himself involved in labours and struggles, sufficient, one would imagine, not only to oc- cupy i\\\ his time, but to wear down his health and spirits — his habits so perfectly domestic, that he never thought of seeking relaxation out of his own doors, unless it were 1790 1793.] AND OCCURRENCES FOLLOWING. 281 in a short walk, and one evening in a fortnight in meeting his clerical brethren in a private society. To them he submitted his case and the question of his marriage : they did not disapprove the measure, and he determined upon it. His situation was peculiar ; nor was his character quite of the ordinary standard. I am persuaded he acted rightly, and that the blessing of heaven follow- ed the step he took. Indeed, no person could be more happy than my father was, in both his marriages. Of the person who formed the object of his second choice, as she survives him, I shall say nothing more, than that the whole family concurs in the sentence which my fa- ther pronounced on his dying bed, '^ That she had been an unspeakable blessing to him and his for more than thirty years." I annex a few letters connected with the changes which have thus been adverted to. They are valuable in them- selves, and tend further to illustrate the character of the writer. The following letter announced the death of my dear mother to her sister, and through her to the rest of her family. '' Chapel Street, September 9, 1790. Dear Sister, I should be glad to spare you, and our poor aged mother, and my other friends in Northumberland, the pain and sorrow that this letter must occasion : but it must not be. Your dear sister is gone to heaven before us ; and has left many, and me especially, and her children, selfishly to lament, that she is no longer a sinner or a suiTerer, and almost to wish her back again. She was taken, about a fortnight ago, with apparently a slight indisposition in her stomach, which it was thought some trivial medicines would remove ; but it proved obstinate, and at length ter- 2N 282 occurr?:nces following [Chap. X. niinated in fever and nervous delirium, and baffled every effort of the medical gentlemen who kindly attended her. She died yesterday a little after seven in the evening. — I see, and trust you will see, and submit to the hand of the Lord in this most painful dis])ensation : and I would study how to get eomfort under it, and derive benefit from it. But my heart rebels against my judgment fre- quently ; and I feel my loss to be so great, that gloom and distrust rush in. Yet the Lord can make it up to us by his own all sufficiency. — lean truly say, that, during the fifteen years and three quarters that the Lord hath lent me this loan^ I have valued it more and more daily. In every sense, she has been a blessing to me, even as a mi- nister, as well as a Christian : and few persons have died more generally and justly lamented by all that knew her. But the Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away : and blessed be the name of the Lord ! 1 would say so front my heart : though it aches when I attempt it. — The last time she had the clear use of her faculties, she express- ed the fullest joy and confidence in the Lord, and assu- rance, that, if she died, she should go to be with Christ : and she wished me to say to all her friends, as her last advice, that they would never know happiness, till they left all other dependencies and vain pursuits, to seek sal- vation and comfort by faith in Christ crucified, and in communion with God through him. She was greatly re- joiced by your last letter : but she would have said a good deal to brother about the snares of the world, and the danger of willing to be ?nchf if he had stood by her bed- side. I must leave it to you to break the melancholy sub- ject to our mother, as you see best My dear unknown sister, to whom I sincerely wish all happiness for my poor wife's sake, this world, believe me, is a bubble : we shall soon be in the same situation with her : let us then seek 1790 — 1793.] THE DEATH OF MRS. SCOTT. 283 the one thing needful more diligently, even that good part which shall never be taken away.'' To the husband of the same correspondent, April 4, 1791. ''I should have written before this, had it not been for my excessive engagements ; notwithstanding that I was aware you and other friends in the north would not be very well pleased with the step which you have heard I have taken. But, whatever you may suppose, I certainly acted most conscientiously in what I did ; and, I doubt not, this will appear in the day when all the mo- tives of all actions shall be made known. A variety of peculiarities in my situation, disposition, &c. rendered it necessary for me to deviate from the etiquette of human custom, if I would go on with my many and important undertakings with a quiet mind. I have no doubt that your dear deceased sister, could she come to give her opinion, would sanction my conduct. . . . No body, that knows me, and my behaviour to her from the time we met till that most distressing hour of my life when the Lord separated us for a season, will suppose that my conduct arose from want of love to her, or of respect for memory; which will be dear to me to my latest hour I can only add, that I shall always be glad to see, or hear from, or do any service to any of you, as much as ever ; and I have not forgotten my proposal made to my mother last year, as I mean shortly to evince. Whenever you come to London, you will meet with as hearty a welcome in my house as ever, if you will favour me with making it your home My most affectionate and dutiful re- membrances to my mother Kell. May the Lord be her support and comfort under the infirmities of her old age, and in the hour of death, and her portion for ever. I seldom forget to pray for you, that you may be all made meet for the inheritance of the saints in light ; that we 284 OCCURRENCES FOLLOWING [CHAP. X. may be there united for ever, after the various changes and troubles of this sinful world." The following letter he addressed to his deceased wife's mother. ^^ August 5, 1791. Honoured Madam, Unexpected incidents, arising from the expensive publication in which I am concerned, have rendered it inconvenient to me to send the enclosed 10/. sooner ; though the delay has grieved me. I understand that you now reside with brother ; yet there may be many little matters, tending to the comfort of your advanced age, that you may wish for, and should have in your power. Probably as the providence of God hath ordered matters, you and I may never meet in this world ; but your present com- fort and future felicity are and must be near my heart, for the sake of your valuable daughter, — now a saint in glory, surrounded with her three children that went thither before her, as I am fully satisfied. Whilst it pleases God to continue your life and mine, you may be assured of the same sum every year, and probably earlier next year than I have at present been able to send it ; and I hope you will oblige me by receiving it without hes- itation : else you will add another sorrow to the many I have experienced. If you knew all that God knows of the circumstances in which I have been placed, you could not blame, you would approve of the step I have taken^ since it pleased God to take your dear daughter to him- self. Situated and engaged as I was, it was literally im- possible for me to proceed in any other way I remain, dear madam, with sincere affection, and good wishes and prayers for your present and future felicity, Your s affectionately and respectfully, Thomas Scott.'' I add one more extract; from a letter addressed, like. 1790 — 1793.] THE DEATH OF MRS. SCOTT. 285 the first, to my mother's sister, and dated January 23, 1793. " It cannot have given any person more satisfaction than it has done me, that the Lord put it into my power to add any thing to the comfort of the aged mother of her, who was so long my choicest earthly blessing, and whose memory must ever be dear to me. Though I have never seen her, I cannot but feel a measure of filial respect and affection for her, as well as love for you and your's : and I should rejoice at the opportunity of conversing with you, if the Lord saw good. But that is not likely in pre- sent circumstances. My desire therefore and prayer are, that we may be found amongst those, whom Jesus hath redeemed unto God with his blood, and may meet in heaven to spend together a joyful eternity. — We are all poor sinners, in our best estate ; and they who know their own hearts most, and are best acquainted with the spiritual law of God, will be most ready to make allowance for others, as well as most prepared to value the atonement, grace, and salvation of our divine Redeemer : and thus alone can we be made meet for the inheritance of the saints in light. You have no reason, therefore, to write with timidity to such a poor, weak, wretched sinner as I am. The Lord hath shewn me a little of his glorious sal- vation, and I bear witness, in a feeble manner, to his pre- ciousness, his power, truth, mercy, and grace : but I have no reason to assume any precedence above the feeblest of his disciples ; and he alone makes me to differ from the vilest of his enemies ; and must preserve that difference, if it continue — as I trust it will I send you all the numbers to complete three copies of the Bible .... I send the third copy for my mother, at my late dear wife's desire. If then you have sold it, the money is properly her's : and I hope you will employ it in any 286 OCCURRENCES FOLLOWING, &C. [ChAP. X. i'op her comfort, and that you will fairly tell me, vvhetlier any more can at all alleviate her sufferings in her present state. '.Depend upon it, neither I nor my family shall be hurt by it. — Give my dutiful love to her, and tell her that it is my fervent prayer, that the Lord would be her support, comfort, teacher, and Saviour ; and that at last she may, in humble and lively faith, commend her soul, as Stephen did, into the hands of the Lord Jesus; that so we may all meet in heaven .... I remain your sincerely affectionate brother, Thos. Scott.'' At a subsequent period the families were connected by fresh ties. 1792 18C2.] FINISHING HIS COMMENTARY. &C. 287 CHAPTER XI. ADDITIONAL PARTICULARS FROM THE TIME OF FINISH- ING HIS COMMETARY TO THE EVE OF HIS REMOVAL FROM LONDON. In giving a connected view of the transactions relative to my father's Commentary on the scriptures, we have unavoidably been carried forward beyond the regular series of events, even past the time of his removal from London. He himself, indeed, has recorded little in his narrative concerning this whole period, beyond what is already before the reader. Some particulars, however, may be collected, especially from his letters, which must not be omitted in the history of his life. We may first advert to the several works which he published within the period assigned to this chapter, and which may be mentioned in two or three classes. His " Impartial Statement of the Scripture Doctrine in respect of Civil Government, and the Duties of Sub- jects," was published near the close of 1792 ; his " Rights of God," (a title suggested by the eager discussions then carried on concerning the rights of man,) in 1793; and his, *^ Vindication of the Divine Inspiration of the Holy Scriptures, and the Doctrines contained in them, in answer to Mr. Paine's Age of Reason," in 1796. — These publications were directed against the infidel and anarchical principles at that time so widely diffused in the 288 FTOM FINISHING HIS COMMENTARY [ChAP. XL nation. -•The Rights; of God" vv^s undertaken, and the title adopted, at the suggestion of another person. Probably the title was not well chosen, and the work attracted less notice than, perhaps, any other production of its author. The two other pieces were repeatedly printed, (particularly the x^nswer to Paine, in America as well as at home,) and obtained a pretty wide circida- tion. Some things concerning them may be collected from the authors letters. His sending the first mentioned tract to his dissenting friend, now Dr. Ryland of Bristol, gave occasion to the expression of some of his political sentiments, particu- larly as connected with the duties of Christians. ^^ December 5, 1792. You will receive with this a few copies of a publication on a subject mentioned in your last : not on politics, but on the religious question connected with them. I have endeavoured to be impar- tial ; and I do not expect to please either party in these violent times : but I trust moderate men will approve most of it, as far as they regard the Bible. I am no great stickler for monarchy, or any of its appendages ; and I trust I am a steady friend to real liberty, in all cases and places : yet, as human nature is constituted, I am apt to think a limited monarchy, or mixed government, where one branch oversees and checks the others, is best ; and that an absolute republic must verge either to anarchy or to oligarchical tyranny. But I have nothing to do with such questions. I should obey under a republic even as under our constitution, if providence placed me under it. I also think that our constitution is like a good old clock, which wants cleaning, regulating, and oiling ; but that to knock it in pieces, in order to substitute a new French watch in its place, the going of which has not been tried, would be impolitic and even ridiculous: yet multitudes 1792 — 1802.] TO THE EVE OF HIS LEAVING LONDON. 289 are bent upon this^ and I fear bloodshed will be the con- sequence.— I must also think that many religious and res- pectable dissenters have expected too much, in a world of which the devil is styled the god and prince ; and where protection and toleration seem the utmost that God's children can hope for. Many also, both dissenters and others, have meddled too much with such matters : and I grieve to see that the prejudice, which this has in- fused into the mind of religious people in the church, is likely to widen our unhappy divisions : for they will not make proper discriminations. . . . My sentiments on our duties you will see in the pamphlet : so far, I trust, we shall be agreed : and, if our political creed be not iden- tically the same, I hope that will make no diflPerence. I always thought you so engaged in the work of the minis- try, and in promoting the kingdom of Christ, as to be- stow little time about other governments ; and I trust you will be so still. — I am so far from wishing that Dr. Priestley had been burned at Birmingham, that I am grieved that such weapons should have been at all used by those who pretended to be friends, either to the doc- trines of Christ, or to the constitution. I am sorry also, that the persons you mention are so vehement. An ene- my hath done it. As far as I ^lave influence I would be a peace-maker : we have enemies enough, and should not quarrel with each other.'' To the same, December 24, 1792. " I entirely agree with you, that many things want mending among us : but I fear the governed are as much to blame as the go- venors. The nation indeed is a mass of corruption ; and throwing it into a new form will not mend it. If North America prosper under her new government, the cause is principally to be found in the moral state of the inha- bitants. The way for the people to reform the govern- 2 0 290 FUOM FINISHING HIS COMMENTARY [ChAP. XI. mejit ohviously is, by clioosing. without any recompence, the most honest nun they can find, tor members of parlia- ment : ^but. if the senators* votes are bought by ministers, the electors" votes are bought by senators, not only in the rotten boroughs, but in capital cities, and counties ; and almost every voter, like Esau, sells his birthright, and then is angry that he has it not. If we could see that the counties and large cities and towns made an honest use of their privilege, and that bribery was the effect of inade- quate representation, I should then be of opinion that a reform would do good ; at present, I fear it would make bad worse — at least no better : for who almost is there that does not vote from interest rather than from judg- ment. I fear we are nearly ripe for vengeance : my views are gloomy : but I think that every violent change would accelerate our ruin. " I am rather a favourer of a limited monarchy ; but would not be severe on a mere speculative republican ; though I think silence, in that case, is a duty, while the providence of God continues us under a monarchy : and I can find nothing in history, that should render any but the ambitious warrior, or the avaricious mer- chant, loud of a rc|^ublic. I am sure that republican Greece, Rome, and Cariliage, shed human blood, and multiplied crimes, to increase wealth or extend conquest, even as much as absolute monarchs : and their intes- tine oppressions and divisions were equally calamitous.-' It is to be remembered that, at the period when this letter was written, one of the dogmas attempted to be imposed upon a deluded people was, that all wai-s were to be traced to the ambition of kinii;s. — In these let- ters also the writer appears rather to have softened down the expressions of the preference which he enter- tained for the British constitution : at least that prefe- 1792 1802.] TO THE EVE OF HIS LEAVING LONDON. 291 pence was certainly more decided and strong at a later period. — It need scarcely be said, that a man of my father's principles and discernment was never in any dan- ger of being duped, by the boasting pretensions and high expectations which accompanied the earlier periods of the French revolution. He always held, that, pro- ceeding as it did upon irreligious principles, and being founded in false views of human nature, no good was to be expected from it, otherwise than as a remote conse- quence. " In respect of the Test Act," he proceeds, " I would certainly abolish it, let what would be the consequence ; because I deem it the scandal of the church : but, if I were a dissenter, I think I should care less about it, for as a religious body the dissenters will be less led into temptation, when abridged of their right in this par- ticular, than if freely admitted to places of trust and profit : and, I may be deemed censorious, but, I fear^ a loss of spirituality renders them more earnest in this matter than their forefathers were. As to the sup- posed preference of the episcopalian ministers who preach the gospel, I see little of it. Here, at least, we most of us have less salaries and more work than our dis- senting brethren. Some few in the church, indeed, by family connexions, and other means, get large livings ; but probably they would be better without them : and^ except by family connexions or bought livings, we are almost as much out of the way of preferment as our dis- senting brethren. For my part, I scarcely know what I am except chaplain of the Lock ; but I expect, at leasts that a good living will be offered to you as soon as to me : and it will then be soon enough to say, whether I would accept of it. However, I trust I speak as a Christian minis- ter, when I say, that toleration and protection are all that 292 FROM FINISHING HIS COMMENTAKV [ChAP.XL God's servants can reasonably expect in tlie devil's world: and in tact this is all tliey should desire. But I fear one ellect of these disputes will be, the widening of the breach between the servants of Christ in the establishment and out of it. Far be it from me to vindicate the madness of a mob : but I do not suppose that either the king or the sober part of the church are to blame for it ; more than the moderate men at Paris for tlie late massacres. Many dissenters chiefly (would I could say wholly) of the Arians and Socinians, have made themselves obnoxious to those who are attached to the present constitution : others have not acted discreetly ; and parties always are violent against whole bodies of men : they who run into one extreme drive others into the opposite : moderate men please no party, and their voice cannot be heard : thus the war of the tongue and pen are the prelude to greater outrages, which are rather chargeable on human depravity, than on the principles of the party that commit them. I fear, as well as you, lest our governors should be too tenacious, and rely too much on the temporary advantage they have gained : yet I see there would be impolicy in timid coun- sels. I feel that they cannot safely at present offend such numbei^ as a proper retrenchment of expences would oc- casion ; and I am so sensible of the importance of their measures, and of the peril and delicacy of their situation, that I can only pray to the Lord to give them wisdom to apply proper remedies to the distempered state of the nation, if so be it may be healed. A war at any rate must be dreaded at present : but, could I suppose admi- nistration so impolitic as to engage in a war in order to exterminate republicans on the continent, I should then make up my mind on the business, and prepare for tlie worst. But I do not think they mean this, and how far it may be unavoidable for them to support the Dutch^ I X79a 1802.] TO THE EVE OF HIS LEAVING LONDON. 293 cannot tell. I am siire^ if I could be heard^ I should say to all the powers in Europe^ Unite in telling the French Convention, that if they will let other nations alone, and quietly settle their own government as they please, they shall not be molested : but that, if they will be busy bo- dies in other men's matters, they must take the conse- quences As to the weight of taxes it is so great, that most of us feel and lament it : yet freedom from war in our borders, from bloody persecution, from famine and pestilence, should render us patient and thankful ; nor can the evil be prevented. I have now written a long letter, on what I often think of, but do not frequently discuss. Let us, my brother, leave worldly people to their disputes about worldly subjects : let us avoid all at- tachments to parties, and the extremes of all parties : let us endeavour to act as peacemakers, especially in the church, and deem ourselves far more nearly united in the bond of faith to all who love Christ, than we can be to those of our party, either religious or political, who do not. Let us pray for the peace of Jerusalem, and give up ourselves to the work of our ministry, and then we shall be useful and comfortable at all events. I am, your sincerely affectionate friend and brother, T. S." Mr., now Dr., Carey was at this time seeking permis- sion to proceed to India as a missionary ; and I find the following notices of the subject in this correspondence of my father's with Dr. Ryland. ^^ April 24, 1793. Mr. Carey brought me your letter, and I wrote to Mr. Grant about the business ; which was all I could do, as every one of my friends would have re- ferred that matter to him." ^^May 6, 1793. Mr. Grant expresses the most cor- dial desire to serve Mr. Carey. I am sure I cordially approve of the plan, and pray God to give success to it : 294 FHOM FINISHING HIS COMMENTARY. [ChAP. XL for, if sinners are but brought to repent, believe in Christ, and walk in newness of life, I am satisfied, and 1 am quite willing that the Lord should work by what instruments he pleases, and rejoice that they are multi- plied.-^ Of the answer to Paine my father thus writes, April 26, 1796. '^ I have interwoven all the grand proofs of revelation, and the nature and tendency of Christianity^ with I trust a sufHcient confutation of Mr. P.'s cavils. I have not treated him quite so genteelly as the Bishop of LandafThas ; who, by the way, has said many good things, though he seems to give up the point as to the entire inspiraton of scripture, and pretends not to answer ob- jections to the doctrines : but, while I have endeavoured strongly to expose Mr. P.'s disingenuousness, ignorance of his subject, &c. I hope I have been kept from a harsh spirit, and from retorting his revilings.'' On reprinting the work in 1798, the author made '* re- trenchments^" as well as alterations, thinking it *' no lon- ger necessary to squabble'' with his antagonist, " w here he advances objections peculiar to himself,'' though he ^^ did not wish to have the answers to more general ob- jections out of print.'' The last separate publication of my father's life was a new and abridged edition of this work, at the beginning of the year 1820, accommodated to the change of times which had taken place. As he had entirely re-written it, and, '' while he greatly abridged it, added much new matter, and several striking quotations, especially from Bishop Watson," he says, '* it may, indeed, more pro- perly be considered as a new publication on the subject, at the close of his life and labours, than merely as an abridgement." 1792 1802.] TO THE EVE OF HIS LEAVING LONDON. 295 The ^' Essays on the most Important Subjects in Re- ligio!!,'^ twenty -five in number^ were published in the years 1793, 1794 ; " Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress with Original Notes/' in 1794, 1795 ; the twenty one " Ser- mons on Select Subjects" with some Prayers for families annexed to them in 1796 ; " The Warrant and Nature of Faith in Christ Considered/' in 1797 ; and " Four Sermons on Repentance unto Life — The Evil of Sin — The Love of Christ — and The Promise of the Holy Spi- rit/' in 1802. — In all these works the author's aim was to explain and illustrate the great truths of Christianity, and to point out their holy tendency. They have all been repeatedly printed ; particularly the Essays eight or nine times in England, besides American editions. This appears to have been, very justly, a favourite pro- duction, both with the author and the public. It, as well as the Pilgrim's Progress, was first published in numbers: each Essay forming a separate number, price one penny ; and the period of publication being once a fortnight. March 14, 1798, the author writes, " I compute that I have printed nearly one hundred and twenty thousand numbers : about one hundred and five thousand I have sold : the rest I have dispersed" — that is, given away, or scattered in his walks and journeys ; for in this way he was always a considerable distributor of tracts. One of these Essays, " on the Ten Commandments," is also on the list of the Religious Tract Society, and is widely circulated through that channel. The sermons were undertaken at the instance of Mr. Wilberforce and the late Mr. Henry Thornton, and were published by subscription. — The '^ Treatise on Faith" was composed, as the title page expresses, *^with reference to various controversies on the subject." In a letter written at the time (Dec. 29, 1796,) the author 29(i FllOM FINISHINC; IIIS COMMENTARY [CllAP. XT. says: ** I am about to wiite a pamphlet on the sinner's warrant to believe in Christ, and the iiaturc of justify- ing faith, by the desire of several of my brethren ; as the American divines, especially Hopkins, with those who hold the negative of the modern question, have run into one extreme, and many others into the contrary, particularly Mr. Abraham Booth in a late publication* I do not mean to engage in controversy ; but to state what I think the scriptural view of the subject, clearing it from objections, and guarding against abuses, or an- swering arguments, without taking notice of the indi- viduals who have urged them." The modern question here mentioned, but happily unknown in many parts of the kingdom, is no other than this, whether it is the ihitjj of a sinner to believe in Christ, or to yield any spiritual obedience to the calls of God's word ! and consequently whether he is to be ex- horted to any such obedience ! In the year 1798, several clergymen in the metro])olis, impressed with the serious aspect of our affairs as a na- tion, " agreed together to preach, in rotation, weekly lectures in each other's churches and chapels," bearing upon the subject : and in the following year my father drew \ip at their request, and published with their approbation, '' Observations on the Signs and Duties of the Present Times." These lectures were continued till 1802, when the peace of Amiens was conculded, and my father then Closed them by preaching and printing a ser- mon on Psalm cxvi. 2, " Because he hath inclined his ear unto me, therefore I will call upon him as long as I live." Besides these, he published fast sermons in 1793 and 1794, and a thanksgiving sermon in 1798 : and ser- * Entitled, "(Had Tidiu^-s." 1792 — 1802.] TO THE EVE OF HIS LEAVING LONDON. 297 mons of the same description were included in the volume already noticed. One sermon may deserve to be more particularly men- tioned, because of the occasion which produced it. In the year 1800 was formed " The Society for Missions to Africa and the East, instituted by Members of the Es- tablished Church ;^^ which designation has been since ex- changed for that of ^^The Chruch Missionary Society for Africa and the East." The prosperity to which this institution has attained ; the extent of its operations ; and the divine blessing which has so evidently rested on its labours ; cause it now to draw the attention of the Christian World, and dispose us to enquire, with feelings of interest, into its origin. The honour of giving it birth belongs to my father in common with several dear friends, with whom he esteemed it one of the chief blessings of his life to be associated. Among these (to mention no sur- viving ones,) were the Rev. Messrs. Newton, Foster, Cecil, Venn, Goode, and that distinguished layman, Mr. Henry Thornton. Mr. Venn, indeed, has been pronoun- ced the father of the Society : and, if to have taken a very active and zealous part in its first formation ; to have had, perhaps, the principal share in organizing and moulding it into shape, and in conducting it through cer- delicate and difiicult intricacies which it had to encounter at its outset ; entitles him to his appellation, it certainly belongs to him. But, if to have been one of the first and most urgent in pressing upon his brethren the duty and necessity of forming some such institution, as well as among the most active in carrying the design into effect, establishes a right to such a distinction, then must my fa- ther be allowed to share it with him. And accordingly he was thus commemorated in the Report of the Society made at its last anniversary. The fact, I believe; is this : 2P /i98 FROMriNTSHTNG HIS COMMENTARY [ChAP. XL the London Missionary Society, then recently formed, had attracted threat public notice, and excited much dis- cussion. Amoitg other places, this was the case in a pri- vate society of clergymen meeting once a fortnight for friendly discussion ; and the ground which my father, w liose mind liad always been peculiarly alive to such sub- ject«J, there took was this — that it was their bou^dcn duty to attempt somewhat more than they had done^ ei- ther by joining the Missionary Society just mentioned, or which would be much to be preferred, if practicable, by forming a new one among members of the establish- ment : and from these discussions sprang the Church Missionary Society. My father says of it, in a letter dated Oct. 29, 1800: ^- 1 had a considerable share in setting tliis business in motion, and I should wish to try what can be done : but I am apt to fear, that, like most of my plans, it will come to little.*' It is needless to say with \\ hat joy and gratitude he lived to see these fears dis])ersed, and all his expectations exceeded. — So long as he continued in London, he acted as the secretary of the Society ; and, in the country, at a subsequent period, (as we shall hereafter have occasion to relate,) he became the tutor of its missionaries. At the anniversary, Whit- Teusday, IhOl, he was called upon to preach the first sernion before the Society ; which was published with the Report. 1 sluill here insert the commemoration of his services above alluded to, as made at the anniversary meeting of the Society in 1821, a few weeks after his death. '' In recording the gratitude of the Society to its living and active fritnds. the committee are reminded of the de- parture to his eternal rest of one who may be justly de- non:iiiated a father of the Society. The late Reverend Thomas Scott. v\ith his once active coadjutors and breth- 1792 1802.] TO THE EVE OF HIS LEAVING LONDON. 299 Xen, Mr. Venn and Mr. Goode, and with the late Mr. Terrington, (a steady and assiduous member of the com- mittee for the last eighteen years) — gone also so their reward — may be truly said, with others who are still spared to labour, to have laid, in faith and prayer, the foundation of that edifice which is now rising to view with augmented strength and usefulness every year. As the first preacher before the Society, and for its first two years its secretary, our departed friend, — ^ith that comprehensive knowledge of the heart and of scrip- ture, which stamped on his sentiments an early maturity, that for almost half a century grew more mellow, but without withering or decay, — laid down for us those prin- ciples of action, stimulated us by those motives, encou- raged us by those promises, and suggested those practical measures, the truth and wisdom of which are receiving fresh evidence every returning year. When he could no longer take a personal share in our deliberations and pro- ceedings, he still rendered to the Society the most impor- tant aid, by charging himself with the instruction of sev- eral of its missionaries. We have heard, in this place, from their own mouths, the most grateful testimony to his able instructions and his paternal care : and when his growing infirmities had disqualified him for this labour of love, he ceased not, to his latest hours, to pour out fer- vent prayers for the gracious influences of the Holy Spirit, on all the labours both of this Society, and of every other kindred institution, which, in these latter days, is made instrumental in accomplishing the purposes of divine mercy toward the world. He rests from his labours^ and his works follow him.^' Within the period of which we are treating, my father also projected some works which he never accomplished. One was on the Prophecies, and the evidence furnished 300 FROM FINISHING HIS COMMENTARY [ChAP. XL by them for the divine inspiration of the different parts of scripture. It appears that he first conceived tlie idea oFsiich a work in 1793. In 1796 he informed me that he had ^^ in good earnest set about it.'* His ])lan was to make it, in some respects, more comprehensive than Bishop Newton's Dissertations, and throughout more adapted to unlearned readers. He intended to publish it in small numbers, after the manner of his Essays ; and hoped by this meaus to obtain for it considerable circulation, and to render it conducive to counteract the scepticism and infidelity of the times. But other more pressing engage- ments coming on^ the design was first suspend, and then dropped. Another work, which I must much regret his not having executed^ was of my own suggestion, on my entering into orders. It was to be a series of letters on the pastoral office and its various duties. He entered heartily into the design : and, being prevented from accomplishing it at that time, resumed it on his youngest son's ordination, but never found leisure to perform it. In 1796, as also in some subsequent yeai»s, the health of his family requiring them to spend some time at the sea-side, he was led, with advantage to his own health, to make numerous voyages in the packets between Lon- don and Margate : and this circumstance gives us occa- sion to present him to the reader in a new situation. His conduct amid the motley groupe on board of these vessels was strikingly characteristic, and produced a variety of interesting or amusing occurrences, of which I can furnish but a slight account. — He determined, if possible, to make the new scene, on which he was entering, an occa- sion of usefulness. Instead, therefore, of retiring within himself, in a sort of dignified silence, as a clergyman 1792 — 1802.] TO THE EVE OF HIS LEAVING LONDON. 301 might feel inclined to do under such circumstances, he sought conversation. He observed and inquired into all that passed ; made himself acquainted with all the parts of the vessel, and the process of managing it, the course steered, and the various objects to be noticed. He held himself ready to take advantage of all that occurred. He rebuked immorality, and encountered scepticism and in- fidelity (then, as at present, frequently avowed, ) wherever they presented themselves. Thus he aimed to gain atten- tion, and to find an opening for the instruction which he desired to convey. In general he succeeded. Frequently he entered into argument against the corrupt principles of the day, both religious and political ; on which occa- sions, by uniting, as he could readily do, much vivacity with his accustomed force, and always maintaining good temper, (for he determined that nothing should affront him,) he generally drew a company around him, carried conviciion to many by standers, and often silenced his op- ponents. The discussion commonly terminated in a dis- tribution of tracts, chiefly his own publications, which he always carried with him in travelling, for the purpose. His maxim was, that, if his books sold^ he could afford such a dispersion ; if they did not, he was only giving away waste paper. It may be added, that his conduct on board gained him much esteem among the sailors, who always welcomed him, and described him as ' the gentle- man whom nothing could make angry.' Though however he would never be offended himself, even by scurrility and abuse, yet he sometimes deeply offended others, by reproving their impiety, or exposing their attempts to defend what was contrary to good mo- rals. One instance it may be amusing to mention, as fur- nishing a specimen of the coarseness with which he was sometimes assailed. A man, who it appeared was a J02 VROM FINISHfNG HIS COMMENTARY, &C. [ChAP. XI. brewer in Loiulon, having for some time endeavoured, in his way, to support the cause of irreligion, and feeling himself foiled by his father's arguments and animadver- sions, at length so far lost his temper, as to wish that he ' had him, and a dozen more such parsons, at his dispo- sal— he would boil them in his copper !' . Such an ebul- lition had, of course, the effect of raising the voice of the whole company against its author ; who, in conse- quence, withdrew, and was seen no more during the re- mainder of the voyage. On other occasions, the result was very different ; and once, at least, at the general request of the company, he expounded and prayed with them in the cabin, while the vessel lay at anchor. Few of us, I presume, would feel ourselves competent to adopt such a line of conduct, in a similar situation : but let us not therefore censure what is above our reach. In one who could worthily sustain this part, and was in- duced to do so by zeal for God and unfeigned love for the souls of men, I must pronounce it highly honourable. We may venture to say also that it is borne out by the high- est examples. What other than this was the mode of teaching employed by the prince of the philosophers, by one of the chief of the apostles, and by Him who was greater, beyond comparison, than all sages, and even than all inspired apostles ?"* * See the Memorabilia of Socrates ; the Acts of the Apostles, xvii. 16 — 18, and xxvii ; and the Gospels, passim. 1792 — 1801.] LETTERS. 303 CHAPTER XII. LETTERS BELONGING TO THE PERIOD OF THE PRECEDINf^ CHAPTER. Having thus detailed such particulars as I have been able to collect relative to the time that my father conti- nued in London after the completion of his Commentary, I shall now present the reader with various additional ex- tracts of letters, illustrative of his ministerial situation. his views, and the state of his mind at that period. To his correspondent in Northumberland, the distant connexion by marriage, already repeatedly mentioned, he thus writes. " September 3, 1794. The years that you were more immediately acquainted with me, were certainly the most comfortable, in respect of religion, that I ever expe- rienced. I, as well as you, have since made many pain- ful discoveries about my own heart, and have had far more acquaintance with the devices of Satan than I then had : yet hitherto the Lord hath helped ; and the grand principles, which I then inculcated, rise in my estimation every year : nor can that, which really humbles us, even- tually do us harm My situation as a minister is replete with difficulties, and I do not see the fruits of my labours as I used to do ; yet I trust I do not la- bour in vain We have a peaceable habitation : and, after all humiliating circumstances, are favoured •A •^04 LKTTEKs. [Chap. XII. witli the intimate IVieiiclship of some of the most excel- lent of the earth. Notliiiig but sin and the effects of it could prevent our happiness : for, though 1 am often very poorly with the asthma, and other comj)hiints, and my wife is far from healthy ; that would not mar our com- fort, if we could live a more holy life. But happiness is reserved for heaven; and hope, with a few earnests, must suflice on earth. We are patients in an hospital; regi- men, medicine, and cure are at present chiefly to be at- tended to ; we shall shortly be discharged cured, and that will eternally make up for all. — In the mean time we must continue to live by faith in our crucified Redeemer, whose blood cleanseth from all sin. — And, though, like pardoned rebels, who have been lamed in rebellion, our services manifest our sinfulness ; yet let us pray to be ena- bled to aim at adorning and recommending his gospel, and to declare his love, and the freedom of his service, to those around us, and those that shall come after us. — Pray for me and mine. — The Lord bless you and yours." ^^ November 14, 1794. I trust the Lord will enable you to go forward with encreasing earnestness and com- fort, and that your united prayers, example, and endea- vours, will be prospered to the good of others belonging to you, who are yet far off; and especially that your children will be brought up for God, and live to his glory. In these things we may all hope to bring forth fruit, that shall remain when we are gone to a better world. — But, alas ! we have so many things to conllict with, both in our own hearts, and around us, that we are often discouraged in our prayers and endeavoures for others ; and Satan seems to stand by as an accuser, to represent that we are not proper persons so be made in- struments of good to otliers, who are so sinful in all res- pects oui^elves. Yet this is a mere temptation : the 1792—1801.] LETTERS. 305 Lord does all his work by instruments who are both un- worthy and insufficient in themselves ; and they, whose effectual fervent prayers have availed much^ most cer- tainly had as humble an opinion of themselves and their services, as we can have ; yea^ more so, in proportion to their superior holiness. — It is in this attention to our families, connexions, and circles, and by our prayers for the church of God, and for our country, that we should endeavour to serve God and our generation in this turbu- lent and perilous time, when every thing externally dreadful is apprehended by many from outward appear- ances, and when the spiritual mind will apprehend still greater evils from the atheism, infidelity, impiety, and enormous profligacy, which make such rapid progress on every side. But we should be careful to leave political disputes to worldly people : for engaging in them, on either side, discredits the gospel, and damps the soul as to religion, and brings a curse into every society into which it finds admission.'' ^•February 11, 1795. Those professors who seem not to feel such conflicts, and find no such difficulty in living up to their rule, evidently aim low, and not meas- ure their experiences and attainments by the scriptural standard. The blessing is pronounced by our Lord on those that hunger aud thirst after righteousness ; but hunger and thirst imply the desire, the ardent desire, of what is not yet obtained ; and in heaven, when such gra- cious desires shall be fully answered, we shall hunger no more^ and thirst no more. In the mean time, it is well to set our mark high, that we may press forward^ forgetting the things that are behind, and reaching forth to those that are before : and, as far as I can judge by your letter, this is the present frame of your spirit. When we feel our need of forgiveness in this and the 2Q 306 LETTERS. [Chap. Xll. other respect, and oi" grace to fill up our station properly to the honour of the gospel, we know what to pray for, and shall pray with our hearts : hut, when our convictions are more general, and we are not so particularly acquain- ted with our wants, enemies, and evil propensities, our prayers will be more languid ; and words, good in gene- ral, but not feelingly the language of our hearts, will constitute our petitions. — For my part, I am not able, after twenty years endeavouring after it, to rise a whit above a po«r sinner, trusting in free mercy, through the atoning blood ; and a poor beggar, who might as easily live in health without food, as serve God one day without fresh supplies of wisdom, strength, and grace, sought, in earnest prayer, from the fulness of Christ. If this be neglected, I find all good declines, all evil revives : and am sensible that nothing which has passed would keep me from the vilest crimes, of which my wicked heart is capable, if this could be wholly suspended. Yet, I trust, the Lord does put, and will put hUfear into my hearty that I may not depart from him: and my view of finjil perseverance is this, that the Lord has engaged to keep me (if indeed I am a believer,) empty, poor, hungering, praying, and living by faith on the fulness of Christ, till he bring me to glory : and then all the painful experi- ence I have had of my own weakness and sinfulness, will tune my songs of praise to him that washed me from my sins in his own bloody through the countless ages of eter- nity.— Yet God forbid that I should abuse the gospel ! I trust I only desire to live that I may serve the Lord, and recommend his gospel : and perfect holiness and obedience are the heaven I hope and long for. But the more I do in the Lord's service, the greater debtor I am to his grace, for the will, power, pardon, and acceptance : and the more I aim to do, the deeper sense I liave of ray 1792—1801.] LETTERS. 307 need of the blood and righteousness of Christ, as my only title to the heavenly inheritance. " Perhaps this account of my feelings may shew you, that your case is not singular ; and I feel myself peculiarly interested in your concerns and that of your relatives ; to whom, with your minister, pray give my kind remem- brance.— I feel the same difficulties also about my child- ren, of which you speak : but I endeavour to use means and to commit them to the Lord, and thus to cast my care on him. Yet even here I need forgiveness ; and am con- scious that neither my example, prayers, nor instructions, are what they should be. Thus boasting is excluded, I have no claim for myself or them, nor any plea, but God's mercy, and the encouraging promises of his word ; which, though general, give hope. And thus I proceed, and leave the matter with him. — Mr. Newton is tolerably well : perhaps the happiest man to be met with. But he grows old, and seems in all respects to break. — I hope I shall not forget to pray for you : I beg the prayers of you all, for I much need them. — I remain most sincerely, your affectionate friend and well wisher.'^ Soon after this period my correspondence with him, first from Cambridge, and afterwards from Hull, began. I only wish that what I insert from his letters may not appear to reflect upon myself, for having no more pro- fited by such excellent advice. The following extract from his first letter to me at col- lege, may convey useful counsel to young persons, par- ticularly to those in a similar situation : — ^^ November 2, 1795. You have hitherto been kept greatly out of the way of worldly associates, and assure yourself you have lost nothing by it : for the more they are known, the clearer must be the conviction to every reflecting mind, that they can be of no advantage to a 308 LETTERS. [Chap. XIL man, in any sense, withoiit a tenfold greater disadvantage. Endeavour, therelbrc, to cultivate a courteous, kind, and cheerFuI dis])osition and behaviour towards all sorts of persons: avoiding nioroseness, aiTectation, andsingularity^ in things indiflerent; hut adn^it no one to your familiarity, who docs notseemtoyou, and to more experienced judges, to have the fear and love of God in his heart. Conciliate by an amiable deportment such as are strangers to the ways of religion, in order to allure them up to your ground ; hut take not a single step down upon their ground ; lest, instead of your drawing them out of the mire, they draw you in. If you act consistently and pi'udently, and by a moderate attention to your studies, in suhserviency to the one thing needful, and to future usefulness, secure a reputable standing in the college ; the careless or vicious may affect to despise you, but in their hearts they will respect you. I say a moderatt application ; for I apprehend that very great exertions are not only injurious to the health and spirits; tend to form a man to habits that are unpleasant, or to a kind of oddity ; and exceedingly interfere with the growth of grace and every holy affection in the soul ; but they counteract their own end ; blunt and overstretch the mental powers ; and, after surprising progress for a time, incapacitate a person for making any progress at all. Ambition of dis- tinction, more than love of knowledge, is the spur to this too eager course : but neither one nor the other should be your primum mobile ; but a desire to acquire that competency of useful knowledge, which may lit you for glorifying God, and serving your generation. This will also teach you to talce care of your health and spirits ; to accustom yourself to corporal as well as mental exertion ; (the want of which is severely felt by most of our minis- ters who are academical men ;) to cultivate that kind of 1792—1801.] LETTERS. 309 behaviour, which may render you as acceptable as truth and conscientiousness will let a man be in this world — the want of which is one of my principle disadvantages ; and so to travel on at a sober rate, without over- pushing the horse at the beginning of the journey. — Excessive eagerness in any particular study has also this disadvan- tage, that it is apt to render a man rather learned than wise^ or even knowing ; as over- eating renders a man full, but does not nourish him. They who read too much do not digest : they learn what others say, but they do not make it their own by reflection, or disfinguisli be- tween the precious and the vile. But moderate study, with frequent pauses for reflection, useful conversation, and exercise, adds more to real knowledge, and leaves time to apply it to practical uses. — You certainly should not waste time ; but stinting yourself to so much of this or the other every day, may cramp you ; render your mind uncomfortable ; and unfit you for the exercises of religion — without which nothing else will really prosper.- — I would advise you to write your own thoughts on subjects frequently ; and try to get the habit of doing it in Latin : it may be of use to you some time, beyond what you now perceive. — But whatever you read or write, compare all with the Bible : study divinity as a Christian, and as one intended to be a minister ; and other things only in subor- dination to it : for this is your general^ and your parti- eular calling too. — I pray the Lord to be your Guard, Guide, Father, and Comforter!'^ Having consulted him on the subject of joining some small companies of young men, who met in college for religious exercises, on the Sunday evenings, I received the following answer : ^^ November 13, 1795. There are two ways in which any practice may be deemed irregular 5 and in each of no LKTTKR8. [ChAP. XII. them conceal inent may perhaps be expedient. A prac- tice (good in itself, I mean,) maybe irregular, as contra- ry to the e.rpnss ndcs of the society to which a man has voluntary joined himself: or it may be irregular, as con- trary to the customs^ notions, or inclinations of such persons as have influence in that society ; and thus it may seem to oppose their authority, by opposing their private ivill. Thus clergymen often, in some particulars, act contrary to the wishes of their diocesan, and seem to op- pose his authority ; when they do not act contrary to any of those laws, by which his authority is exercised and limited. — If authority be absolute, we ought not to enter willingly into any society, without determining to conform in all things to the will of the ruler : if limited, we should purpose to conform to the extent of those lim- itations. I suppose the practice of your friends is not contrary to the express rules of the college, or of the university ; and, as to the contrariety to the sentiments or inclinations of such persons as evidently do not favour vital godliness, I do not think that any real objection : though the express prohibition of one in authority, even if it were not strictly legal, would have great weight in my mind, where the practice was not an essential duty. — As far as these two things, namely, an express ride and an express pi^ohibition, do not interfere, I think you are quite at liberty to use every means, that appears to you, and your pious friends and seniors, conducive to your mutual edification : and even an express rule, if grown absolete, and disused by general consent, does not appear, in all cases, an exception, unless those in authority declare their purpose of exacting obedience to it. ''\{ on such grounds as these you and your friends see the way clear, and have no consciousness of acting con- trary to actual or implicit engagements, concealment 1792—1801.] LETTERS. Jll seems to be no more than a matter deemed at present ex- pedient ; as we do not think it right to tell every one when we retire for prayer, or when we give to the poor. Yet it appears to me advisable not to be too anxious about concealment ; lest that anxiety and precaution should appear, which might excite more suspicion, or give more ground for censure, than the thing itself. There is a modest, prudent secresy, and there is a timid jealous se- cresy, which leads into temptation, and is quite needless in a good cause, and with a good conscience. '' I do not quite understand whether your friends ac- tually keep out of the reach of the Conventicle Act, or not. If no more than five meet in one place, I can see no manner of objection on the score of ecclesiastical irre- gularity. If they do meet in greater numbers, the mat- ter demands more consideration. I look on that Act as a direct opposition of human authority to the word of God ; and I cannot deem myself bound, in foro conscientimy to obey it : but at the same time expediency may often sug- gest obedience. It better becomes ministers and others of some standing to deviate from the injunctions of a bad law, and by their example to protest against it, and to venture the consequences ; while their conduct in all other things has long shewn them willing to obey in all things lawful ; than young men to set out with such dis- regard to any rules, as may lead others to think they mean to set up their own will as their rule. — Places and connexions also make a diiference ^' A very strong reason indeed w^ould be necessary to justify your declining the proposal of your friends, as it would tend to interrupt that cordiality, on which much of your comfort, and security against other connex- ions, depends. At the same time I feel strongly the force of your other objection ; and would have you plead for 312 LETTERS. [Chap. Xll. being, for a time, a mere hearer. You may urge that you have heard me say? that the seniors in all such so- cieties should chiefly take the lead ; as it has an unhap- py efFect on many young minds to conduct religious ex- ercises too soon, or too often, in the presence of their su- periors Whatever may be my engagements, I can have no more pleasant, perhaps no more useful employ- ment, than what relates to your spiritual progress." The following account of the methods adopted by one, who had studied divine truth with so much success, will doubtless be interesting to the reader. " December 10, 1795. I know not what further di- rections to give you respecting the manner of inquiring after truth, and seeking to have it more deeply impress- ed on the heart, and, as it were, wrought into the judg- ment and affections, than are already in print. I find it exceedingly diflicult to keep my attention fixed, or to get my heart suitably affected, in reading and meditating upon truths, which have become obvious and ft\miliar by daily study : but there are times when I find, that, while I try to muse on the subject, a fire, as it were, kindles, and contemplation terminates in adorning gratitude and admiring love. — In general, I think, I have found it ad- vantageous sometimes to read the scriptures with such exactness, as to weigh every expression, and its connex- ions, as if I were about to preach on every verse : and then to apply the result to my own case, character, ex- perience, and conduct, as if it had been directly address- ed to me — not as a new promise or revelation, but as a message containing warning, caution, reproof, exhorta- tion, encouragement, or direction, according to my pre- vious or present state of mind, and my peculiar circum- stances. In short, to make the passages into a kind of sermons, as if about to preach to others, and then to turn 1792—1801.] LETTERS. 313 the whole application on myself, as far as suited to my case ; as if another, who fully knew me, had been ad- dressing me. — At other times I have read a passage more generally, and then selected two or three of the most im- portant observations from it, and endeavoured to employ my mind in meditation on them, and to consider how they bore on the state of my heart, or on my past life, or on those things which I heard or observed in the world or the church ; and to compare them with the va- riety of sentiment, experiences, conduct, or prominent characters, with which we become gradually more and more acquainted. — Thus I have endeavoured to read the scriptures and to use them as a touchstone to distinguish the precious from the vile, both at home and abroad.— At other tira^s, having perhaps heard or read the opi- nions of different men on any disputed subject, I have, in my daily reading of the scriptures, constantly kept those opinions in view, that I might at length form my judg- ment on which side truth lay. In doing this, I have al- ways aimed to keep my mind from the two extremes, on the one hand, of giving up my own opinion, from a kind of false humility, and deference for men, without being previously convinced that I had been mistaken ; and, on the otherTiand, of assuming my opinion to be truth, so as to exclude light, especially if it came from an enemy, or a person not entitled to much deference. So that I have always aimed to be open to conviction ; to bring every man's probable opinion to the touchstone, and to give it a fair trial, if not tried before ; but not to receive it, with- out plainly perceiving its agreement with the scripture ; and at the same time to aim, that my heart might be suitably affected with the conclusions of my understanding — in which I have pricipally failed. But, a spirit of continual prayer^ mixed with reading, has been my principal help 2R 314 LETTERS. [Chap. Xll. in all these things ; without which either self-wisdom or indolent dependenc e on human teaching will surely pre- vail. " Fchruary 13. 1790. I think you are very right in cultivating general knowledge. . . I trust, however, you will not neglect the peculiar studies of the place, so as not to appear with credit on proper occasions. The object in all your studies should he, neither celebrity, advan- tage, nor knowledge, for its own sake ; but furniture to enable you to serve Ood and your generation : and as much credit as may give weight to your endeavours of that kind. Any friend that has cultivated general know- ledge successfully, will give you hints on the best method of doing it ; and gleaning seems to me an important mat- ter. Learn from every body : be selfish in this respect : get all you can, not only from superior men, but from the most inferior. But be sure you compare all your real or supposed knowledge with the word of God. If real, it will elucidate, and be elucidated by it : if not, it will be de- tected and exposed by the touchstone. — At some time or other, I would advise you to study well the evidences of revelation ; not merely in a general way, but so as to be master of the subject. Perhaps it may be soon enough at present : but it is a matter of great impor- tance in this age especially. — Above all, cultivate per- sonal religion. Let nothing be an excuse to your mind for being slight in that matter. Even useful labours foi' the good of others may be separated from Qiligeiice in the concerns of our own souls : but it is this which must bring a blessing on all else, and cause it to proceed with life and vigour." The next letter treats of an important point of theology, on which much indistinctness of conception appears fre- quently to prevail. 1792 — 1801.] LETTERS. 313 " May 7, 1796. I have not above a sheet to write for the sermons, or rather the prayers ; and then I mean to rest a while ; that is from fagging as I have lately done.* My parishioners, or elerk (who is a plaslerei^) have shut up my church in Bread Street, to beautify : so that my little congregation, which rather increased of late, will now be dispersed, and I shall have all to begin over again. All these things are against me ! But all, I trust, will be for me. ... I do not think you need to have crossed out what you wrote about Edwards'' — Pre- sident Edwards on the love of God ; that it is not merely gratitude, but includes a delight in the holy excellency of the divine character and perfections. '^ I firmly believe that and never read him, with sufficient at- tention and impartiality, fully to understand that part of his plan. He may express himself, at some times, too ab- solutely ; but, if we leave out the glorious perfections of the true God, which are his loveliness, or that especially for which he should be loved, how shall we distinguish him from idols ? I do not mean from images, but from imaginary deities, the creatures of men's fancy ; who think God such an one as themselves, and so worship and love their own invention and similitude, instead of that glorious Being, who makes himself known to us by immediate revelation. Even in exercising gratitude to God, I must take in the consideration of his infinite greatness, holiness, and excellency, to form a proper estimate of the favours bestowed on so mean and vile a sinner; or my gratitude will be no more than self- love reflected ; at least it will not be a pious and holy affection . — The whole plan of the gospel is intended to exhibit the loveliness of Jehovah, in all his harmo- * The answer to Paine was completed in the same mouth with the volume of Sermons. 316 . I.ETTIiHS. [ClIAF. Xll. Dions exi elleiuies : and shall we not include that lovc- lintjss in loving him ? I may be thanhfid to a man whose character I deem odious ; I may love the man who never shewed me any kindness. But love of excellency, desire of union and conformity, gratitude, zeal, &c. all unite in the love of God, which both law and gospel re- quire of us. — To love God • for his own sake,' does not mean so loving him, as to have no regard to our own hap pineSs at all ; but so as to seek our happiness in admiring, serving, and glorifying him ; in bearing his image, and enjoying his favour. If Edwards speaks, at some times, rather more strongly than this seems to imply, I am persuaded, from the general tenour of his writings, that he does not mean any thing inconsistent with it. — I do not think that and meant to exclude love of the divine excellency, as well as gratitude for mer- cies bestowed upon us ; but merely to oppose an ab- stract notion, which they erroneously suppose the Ame- rican divines to have advanced. At the same time, I think they and many others have imbibed, and do propa- gate, an unhappy prejudice against these writers ; and, for fear, of their system, they often speak inconsistently with themselves, and seem to be without fixed senti- ments in this particular ; and countenance certain sen- timents, which, did they see their tendency, they would abhor. As to the text — We love him, because he first loved us — it can oiil} mean, that we should never have loved God, had he not first loved us ; and, if we do now love him with genuine alFection, it is full proof that we are the objects of his love ; this being the seal of his spirit in our hearts. '^ But I have written more than I can fairly afford. I would have you endeavour to avoid all prejudices, as much as possible ; and fairly, in humility and with prayer, 1792 — 1801.] L&TTERSo 317 to give different authors a careful examination : not too many at a time, or as if it were necessary to make up your mind on every subject ; but deliberately, and with much exercise of your own thoughts on the various views set before you/^ I would here just add, that, even if any persons should be of opinion that the text quoted (1 John iv. 19) speaks more directly of the love of gratitude, it would only prove, what I apprehend no one wishes to deny, that favours received form one ground of that complex affection which is styled the love of God ; not that this is the only ground, or that no stress is to be laid on the love of moral esteem for the divine character. — One great reason for insisting on the principles of this letter is, that even a wicked man, taking for granted, on whatever grounds, (as it is to be feared many have done,) that he enjoys the favour of God, and is an heir of all the blessings of which he reads in the scriptures, may, on that erroneous assumption, feel a flow of gratitude, which he may mistake for the love of God, and jthus be confirmed in his delusion, while his heart is really at enmity with God ; and that this error is best guarded against, by urging the necessity of cordial reconciliation to the divine holiness, and delight in the perfections of the divine character. The following letter to a lady on a popular volume of hymns arose out of his visits to Margate. It points out some important distinctions, often not duly adverted to. ^^Mr. Hart, in his hymns, often represents faith as eonsisting in a belief that Christ died/or me, in particular; which, being no proposition of scripture, can only be di- rectly known by a new revelation. This opens a door to delusion. Many are confident, whose lives prove their confidence to be presumption : and many are cast down for want of this confidence^ concluding themselves unhe- 318 i.KTTKRs. [Chap. XII. lievprs because they hnve it not, whose iaitli is notwith- standing proved to he living and saving, by its proper fruits. Fjiith is the belief of (lod's testimony, especially concerning his Son, nnd eternal life for sinners, in him : it embraces this salvation, and gives up other confidences, and other objects, for the sake of it : and, when its efl'ects on the judgment, desires, affections, , or to regret any mistake we may suppose that we have made, — and hence may learn something useful for the future ; yet the hand of 1801 1813.] LETTERS. 377 God should be viewed even in those events, which take place by the folly and faults of men : and he has wise, righteous, faithful, and gracious reasons for what he did, and for what he permitted. " It is not to be expected that parents should not feel and grieve much, on these occasions; and indeed the very end of the providential dispensation would fail of being answered, if they did not : but I would remind your wife, especially, that grief ought no more to be in- dulged than any other of our passions ; though many think, that being inconsolable at the loss of beloved rela- tives is amiable, who would be shocked at the idea of in- dulging many other passions. Every thing in our na- ture wants regulating, moderating, and subordinating to the will of God ; and natural affection as well as the rest. Several particulars, in which faith and submission to God greatly consist on earth, will have no place in heaven. Of this kind is patience under sharp afflictions. This is very honourable to God, edifying to our brethren, and profitable to ourselves : but without sharp affliction we should have no opportunity of exercising it. This is, then, an opportunity given you of experiencing and man- ifesting the power and excellency of your principles ; which may eventually be of great importance in various ways. — In reading of our Lord's miracles, the reflection often occurs to me, would not those who endured the sharpest sorrows, (Mary, Martha, and Lazarus, for in- stance,) with the full view of all the honour to Christ, and all the good to mankind, which arose, and still arises, and shall for ever arise, from .their exquisite anguish of heart ; have been willing to go through the whole again, if again such vast advantage might result from it ? At least, they would not on any account have escaped suffer- ing what they did, now that they see all the reasons why 3B ♦• 378 LETTERS. [Chap. XIV. they siiffcred.. Yet. at the time, they had no idea of the ends to he answered hy their distresses: and the same wisdom and love order our troubles, both as to the nature and the result of them, which ordered theirs. JV/iat I do thft( knoivest not noiv^ but thou shnlt knmo hereafter. — ^W these things ay-e against me! But what does Jacob now think of these transactioiis ? " All this, however, you know, and, I trust, remember. — I would also hint, that you should be careful not too much to indul.^e the fond remembrance of endearing cir- cumstances ; for this feeds a kind and degree of grief, not consistent with submission to the will of God. — If I may judge by myself, you will find this dispensation, in the event, greatly subservient in helping you to realize an unseen world, and in exciting earnestness in prayer. As a minister, you will often have occasion to counsel and comfort others in similar circumstances ; and you will do this both with more feeling and more influence, as having experienced the painful trial yourself. Perhaps many trials are allotted us on this very account : (2 Cor. i. 4 — 6:) and this suggests an important plea, in prayer, for wisdom and grace to bear and improve the trial in a pro- per manner. — We are apt to say of this or the other crea- ture, This same shall comfort us : and thus the gifts of our God insensibly draw our hearts from him ; and then it becomes necessary, almost, for him to wither our gourds. He does so in love ; and we shall know^ at length, that we have cause to be thankful. — When I think of the manner in which Aaron lost his two sons, Nadab and Abihu, (Lev. x.) and. David his, Amnon and Absa- lom ; and of many other instances of this kind ; I am ready to say. How light, comparatively, would the trial have been, had they lost them when infants ! And yet they 1801—1813.] LETTERS. 379 would have felt, in that case, the same things that you now do. "^ I have written a great deal, of what, in some cases^ m^^ht be called common place ; and, not being very well, I ^.eem to have little energy in writing : but. in affliction a hint suggested to memory is often welcome and «isefal I shall onlv add that, if Frances should give way to grief, so SIS not to take proper care of her health, she would shew love where it must be useless, and fail in it where it may be essentially beneficial : as well as in submission to riod. — I write on the supposition that the dear child either is gone, or will not recover : but perhaps the Lord may have heard prayer for her recovery.'' Some other short extracts may shew the warmth of his aflPection not only to his grand-children, who were the immediate objects of them, but towards some whom he had long since lost, but never ceased to remember with tenderness. ^^ July 28, 1805. I feel for my poor dear Jane, who, I suppose, hardly remembers me : but her name^^^ (she was Galled after her grand mother,) " and every thing, makes me feel tenderly for her." " January 1 1, 1807. As I am rather dry in my man- ner. I do not know whether you were aware, how much was my favourite, when I was at Hull. The ac- count of her sickness and suffering, and all respecting her, affected me more than you would probably suppose : and the thoughts of my ever dear Anne came into my mind, with a force that I have not felt for some years. — Well, I began to be comforted under the idea, that, if poor should be taken from you and us, the Lord would prepare her, or was preparing her, for a happier world. But other things followed which more deeply af- fected me. However, after all, I hope that God will • 380 LETTERS. [Chap. XIV. hear prayer, and spare the clear child ; and spare her for good ; and over- rule the whole for good to you all, old and young. I am sure our prayers are not wanting." When il^e distance^ to whicli some of us were removed from him, was complained of, he wrote as follows. ^' I am sure I regret as much as you can do, the distance at which we are placed ; yet we must not let this consi- deration have undue w^eight. I do love to he with my children, and to have them ahout me ; but every one has his place, and ought to have ; and ail our feelings must be submitted to the w ill of God." ^-' I endeavour to consider the case of those, whose children are missionaries in distant lands ; nay, of those whose children, from worldly motives, are far removed from them. Each seem to think, that if their beloved rela- tives are doing well, though far off, all is well. We must be the salt and light of the world, and be scattered for that purpose. Let us then submit to God, and give the more diligence that we may meet in heaven with exceed- ing joy. St. Paul greatly desired /o ^ee Timothy, being mindful of his tears ^ that he might he filled with joy: yet, at the call of duty, they must separate. The elders of Ephesus sorrowed most of all that they must see his face no more : yet, they must part : and, no doubt, after a time, they had a blessed meeting, when their teal's were turned into joy y In these extracts he speaks for himself : in the following another speaks of him. ^*^ June 12, 1809. Yesterday your dear lather preach- ed two capital sermons on Psalm cxix. 32. and Mark x. 13, 14 : the last of which was on the occasion of T. H. having his two youn.i^est children baptized. I think I hardly ever heard him so eloquent and pathetic. Among other things, he mentioned his own children and grand- 1801—1813.] LETTERS, 381 children, with tears in his eyes, in such a manner as brought, I believe, tears into the eyes of several others. The picture he drew of Christ, ' lifting up his holy hands, and blessing the young children,' would really have been a fine subject for a painter.'' To his friend in Northumberland he again wrote No- vember 20, 1808. " Dear Mrs. R , If I had not a most clear and full excuse, my conduct in not writing to you would be exceedingly blameable : but I am so engaged with my publications, with letters of business thus rendered una- voidable, with instructing missionaries placed under my care, and with my ministerial employments : that I am compelled to decline all correspondence which is not ab- solutely necessary. It must also be remembered that I am growing old, (almost sixty- two,) and never was very healthy : and I can assure you that I am weary every night at bed time, as much as any poor labourer. Yet, bless God, my health is not much worse than when you were with me, bating infirmities of old age : and I go on preaching as often, as long, and as loud, perhaps, as for- merly, and with great encouragement in this obscure place. " I wish I was like St. Paul who could say, always in every prayer of mine for you all, fnaking request ivith joy : but I hope I do not quite forget you and your's. I feel gratified by your letter ; it calls to my mind, what always refreshes it, the scenes which took place when you were with us : and I hope and trust that he who, (as I then most confidently believed, and still do^) began a good work in you, ivill perform it till the day of Christ. I am rejoiced to hear that any of your children are walk- ing in the Lord's ways : and I would encourage your hope of the others. Only give them good instructions : 382 • LETTERS. [Chap. XIV. exercise parental autliority with firmness, as well as kind- ness, by reproofs and corrections when necessary, &c. ; set before them sednlously an edifying example ; and pray for them continnally and fervently : then wait, and hope, and acquiesce in the will ofOod ; and even those who now seem less promising will perhaps become your comfort. What you mention of your sister is also very pleasant to me ; and, were it practicable, I should be glad to see and converse with you both : but I suppose we shall not meet, till we meet, as I hope, in heaven. " I would not, however, discourage your writing. I am drawing near the close of my work, on which I have spent ten years : and after that, I may be more at liberty to answer your letters. At present, I must conclude. Mrs. S. and my daughter are well, (or as well as usual,) and unite in respects and good wishes. May the al- mighty God, the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, shower down all blessings, especially spiritual blessings, abundantly, on you, your husband, your children, your brother^ &c. : this is the sincere prayer of your faithful friend and servant in Christ, Thomas Scott.'' In October 1809, my father lost his esteemed friend and patron, Mr. Barber. I have great pleasure in being allowed to insert his letter to Mrs. Barber on this occa- sion, both for its own excellence, from the regard justly due to the family, and because of the happy impression which it appears to have made on the minds of those im- mediately concerned in it. The reader, I persuade my- self, would wish to see it entire, though it may repeat some thoughts contained in a letter recently inserted. " October 8, 1809. My dear madam, The event made known to me by Mr..R 's letter, though mel- ancholy, was by no means unexpected. In general, I 1801— 1813.J LETTERS. 383 am reluctant to intrude on mourners during the first pa- roxysms of grief : but I feel such a special intererst in you, and all your concerns, that I cannot delay to express how sincerely I sympathise with you. I know you must grieve, both for your own heavy loss, and for that of your dear children, and of many others. I would only wish to drop a hint or two towards alleviating and regulating your sorrows, that you may not grieve^ as one without hope^ for him who, I trust, sleeps in Jesus. — ^While the excellency of the husband and father, of whom you and your children have been bereaved, enhances the great- ness of your loss, it infuses the sweetest ingredients into the bitter cup. You have no call to lament, as David over wicked Absalom, and many a parent, or wife, or child, over one, concerning whom there is no hope^ or scarcely any, as to the infinite concerns of eternity. You have ground for rejoicing amidst your tears : your loss is the immense gain of him, whom you most love : and surely, would a wish or a prayer do it, you would not bring him back into this sorrowful world — especially in the afilicted state, in which he had long continued. — You will meet again, to part no more : and many blessings are in store for you and your's, in answer to the prayers ne had long offered for you. " Your dearest earthly friend is taken away : but the Lord liveth from everlasting to everlasting. The event, which you must deplore, (nature dictates, and reason and revelation sanction your doing so,) is, beyond all doubt, the result of wise love to you, as certainly as Joseph's being sold into Egypt was the result of wise love to Jacob and his family. What I do thou knowest not now ; but thou shalt know hereafter, — I am of opinion that, if the greatest sufferer, among those who have been eventually saved, could have known all the good effects of his suffer- 384 Lin-TEUS. [Chap. XIV. ings, to himself and others, and the glory redounding to God hy means of them ; he would have willingly and thankfully received his bitterest cup ; — even as Jesus, for the joy that icas set before hiin, endured the eross. I can conceive ofBartimeus, in heaven, hkssing God for his blindness ; Martha and Mary, for the death of Laza- rus : Lazarus, for being called to pass through death twice : and why should you not have to bless God for this present painful dispensation ? JVe know that all things work together for good to them that love God. — Your good sense, and your acquaintance with the scriptures, cannot fail of suggesting to you, that indulging griefs however admired in the world, is, in itself, as wrong as indulging anger, or any other passion. • You cannot but grieve enough, \\\i\\o\\.t feeding what should be counter- acted. IVJiile the ehild livedo I fasted and wept^ &c. 2 Samuel xii. 19 — 23. — The will of God is now known: though painful, you must feel it riglit to submit, and to say, The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away ; blessed be the name of the Lord : and, however great the loss, the all-sufficient God can make it up. " I am'^far from regretting, or thinking it an addition to your sorrow, that you are left with seven children. Under God, they will be an alleviation of it. Leave thy fatherless e/u'ldren with me, I will preserve them alive ; and let thy widows trust in me, — My dear friend, a most importJUit duty, now more important than ever, devolves upon you ; I am fully persuaded, from your past conduct, a duty delightful to you in itself. Now, indeed, for a time the delight will be mingled with tears ; but the im- portance of the duty is proportionably increased : and I cannot doubt, that the sorrow will decrease, and the joy increase, as you proceed. For the sake of your dear children, in addition to higher motives, watch and pray 1801 1813.] LETTERS. 385 against excessive sorrow^ and against aiiy expressions of it by solitude, or omitting the proper care of your health and spirits ; which might unfit you for your charge. Think thus : ' The whole devolves now on me : let me not yield to heartless despondency. The souls of my children, and children's children, and the welfare of num- bers by their means, are now at stake.' " Perhaps I have entered too much into detail : but I write as to one of my own children ; and you will excuse me. I trust many here are praying for you and your's. I cannot but hope, that there are far more than a hundred souls, perhaps two or three hundred, that will bless God for ever, that the livinij^ of Aston ever came into your family. I hope many pray heartily to God for support, and comfort, and every blessing on you and your's May the God and Father of our Lord Jesus be your sup- port and comforter, and bless you and your children 1— Your's sincerely, T. Scott." It is an additional delightful consideration to me, to think how much the good anticipations of this letter have been already realized. IV. Miscellaneous. " January 11, 1807. I know not how you have found it, but in many instances I have observed, that things, which at the moment seemed so pertinent and conclusive, that they ought to be said, have afterwards appeared to me far too sharp, and had better have been withheld. I now never write on any thing which involves dispute, (if I can help it,) without laying the letter by a day or two, and then revising it." " April 14, 1811. I like much Mr. 's sermon on : but nothing of defect is admitted : it is too unqualified praise : it tends to make me despond ; and it led me to say, Some persons will ere long tell lies about 3 C 386 LETTEKS, [CUAP. XIV. me also. I admire Mr. Milners plan about Mr. How- ard : state debtor and creditor. If we have any thing good about us, there is a set off; and it is best that it should be in some measure stated." I must confess, that the rule laid down, in the closing sentence, unless ils restriction be pretty strongly taken, appears to me, to impose rather an awkward task on the preacher of a funeral sermon. To go much beyond a gentral acknowledgement of the imperfection incident to human nature, except in some very particular instances, would seem to be ungracious and unseasonable on such an occasion : and 1 have sometimes doubted whetlier scrip- tural usage requires more. In giving the history^ in writing the lives of good men, scripture certainly relates the faulty as well as the praise worthy parts of their con- duct. Yet, in summing up the cliaravters of upright men, even such as had been chargeable with considerable evils, it is remarkable how much it assumes the language of general approbation and praise. And it may be thought, perhaps, that this comes nearer to the case of a funeral sermon, in all such instances as are proper for sermons of that kind. The following brief observations on books may not be without their use. " December 2, 1804. By the way, Robertson's The- saurus is a most valuable repository of critical and theolo- gical matter, to the patient inquirer ; bringing together, in one view, every passage where the word in question is used, and quoting the best criticisms upon it.'' " April 7, 1808. I have got Grave's Lectures on the Pentateuch, and, as far as I have read, am much pleased. I find original remarks ; and this is what I want. I am sorry to perceive him so unacquainted with evangelical truth. — Macknight on the Epistles is not of great use. 1801—1813.] LETTERS. 387 He is a verbose and round-about writer. I find in him also things original : that is, he seems to have known all that the apostle, and his friends, and his enemies, said and did ; when there is not a word on record. He is wise above what is written^ in the strangest and most positive manner I have ever seen ; and on these airy dreams builds systematical expositions quite new to me.'' In a letter of June 3, 1807, authorizing me to sub- scribe for him towards defraying the expence of Mr. Wilberforce's election, in the great contest for Yorkshire, (though he had for some time demurred whether, in the peculiar situation in which he stood, it would be proper for him to do it,) he says : " In every company, I maintain the propriety of Mr. W.'s standing the contest, and of others coming forward to defray the expence. If this be not done, the independence of a large county is, by the very circumstance of its largeness, as effectually given up, that of a rotten borough. But the cause of Mr. W. is the cause of justice, humanity, and piety, as well as of Britain. I feel a sort of self-congratulation at present, that, above twenty years ago, I withstood, with all my energy Mr. 's counsel, who advised Mr. W. to retire from public life. Had that counsel been followed, the slave trade might have been continued to future ge- nerations.'^ January 20, 1812, he thus speaks of his own memoir of himself. " I am now, as able, employed in drawing up a brief account of the former years of my life, which, for the time, a good deal affects me with the sense of the Lord's goodness, in leading me when blind, and most wicked, by a way that I knew not. I have written about two slieets, and am come to the eve of my ordination : after which I shall be very brief. I shall leave it with my sur- vivors, to be employed as they see good." 388 FROM THE DISPOSAL OF HIS BIBLE, [ChAF. X\^ CHAPTER XV. FROM THE FINAL DISPOSAL OF HIS COMMENTARY TO HIS LAST ILLNESS. When my father contracted with the present proprie- tors of his Commentary, to sell them all the remaining co- pies, and to convey to them the copy-right of the work, it was in the full expectation that he should be enabled to pay off the debts which he had incurred, and to disen- cumber himself of the embarrassments, under which he had so long laboured, on account of his publications. Thus he expressed himself in announcing the event : ^'I have been struggling hard for many years, and have novr brought matters to that state, that I can dispose of the whole. What I am to receive, with what my bookseller will owe me, will nearly cover all my debts : and it is high time, that, on the one hand, my borrowed money should be paid off, and, on the other, that I should dis- embarrass myself of worldly cares, and set my house in order, that 1 may be ready when my summons comes." And, though some delays and disappointments took place, he continued to entertain this expectation, and even to hope tliat he should be found possessed of some moderate portion of property, till the latter end of the year 1813. But. at that periods on winding up his account with his bookseller and others, he found, to his utter astonishment, and with a greater degree of disquietude, than he had, 1813 1821.] TO HIS LAST ILLNESS. 389 perhaps, ever before felt on such a subject^ that he was still deficient more than 1200/. which he had little else to defray, than printed paper, which appeared almost un- saleable. This was principally owing to great quantities of his books, especially the works in five volumes, being now discovered in the printer's warehouses^ and brought to account, which were before considened as sold. He mentions in a letter that eight hundred and six volumes were thus brought forward in one article. This was not only a grievous disappointment, as presenting him with apparently useless paper, instead of ready money, but as it, in great measure, frustrated his hopes for the future. He had calculated that his minor works were selling to the amount of 250/. or 300/. annually ; but it now ap- peared that the sale was not exceeding 100/. a year ; which made a material difference in the prospect before him. This discovery exceedingly disconcerted and distress- ed him, especially as he charged himself with actual, though unconscious injustice, in disposing, in various ways, on the ground of the erroneous calculation of his property, of sums, which now turned out not to be his own : and, amidst increasing infirmities and disabilities, he began to forebode dying insolvent, and thus, perhaps, leaving a stigma, upon his character and profession. Under these painful impressions he wrote to the differ- ent branches of his family in November ]8i3. " I sit down, to write to you on a painful subject, and, perhaps, with a heavier heart than I ever did before.'^ '* To my utter astonishment and overwhelming almost, I find that I am above 350/. minus with ,'' instead of having some hundred pounds to receive ! '* Under wrong ideas of being able to afford it, I have been disposing of money, which now, to my great distress, I find was not my own.'' 390 FROM TMK DISPOSAL OF HIS BIBLE. [ChAP. XV. " But the most distressing fact is this, that scarcely any thingof my printed pa jK-r sells ; and, as my whole property, except my furniture, consists of it, I find myself precluded from paying my debts, unless some other methods can be adopted." — And again, ^^ My state of health also, and the improbability of my teaching the missionaries much longer, or doing without a curate, compared with the scantiness of my income, apart from my debts, is trying to faith and patience ; especially as, I believe, my friends in general think me well provided for, and therefore give me no help." " Except I can look to God, my prospect is dreary : my infirm health also concurs in depressing my spirits. — But, though sometimes disheartened, I rise again above it." ^ It may be observed that the letters, from which these extracts are taken, were written only two days previous- ly to the very striking one, formerly given, on the in- struction of the missionaries. They sufficiently explain the " strong reason" he had " for not at present giving up that service, if he could help it :" though, it will be remembered, he adds, " If however a permanent semi- nary can be founded, I shall not suffer any personal con- cern of mine to interfere, and, indeed, shall greatly re- joice in it." I have put the reader in possession of this whole case, though it is rather painful to detail it, because, taken in connexion with its issue, have thought it due to those, who would endeavour to act upon my father's disinter- ested and devoted principles, to do so : due also to the religious public, and to several zealous, though some of them unknown friends, who took the most lively inter- est in his circumstances, as soon as they became acquaint- ed witli them : and due, I must add. to the estimation in which, far beyond his own apprehensions, he appear- 1813 — 1821.] TO HIS LAST ILLNESS, 391 ed to be held, " for bis work's sake," and for tTie man- ner in whieb be bad unreservedly given bimself to it. In these letters my father bad observed, that be thought he bad " some claim upon the religious public ;" and the way in which he proposed to avail himself of it was, merely soliciting his friends, by a private circular, to find him purchasers for his " Theological Works," which he was willing, in this way, to dispose of at a reduced price. *' Could I turn three or four hundred copies of the Works into money," he says, " it would set me at liberty." This was accordingly the plan adopted. The printing of this collection of his works, he considered as " the most imprudent part of his whole concern in that line," and as having " involved him almost inextricably :" but it now proved the means of relieving him effectually, and beyond his most sanguine expectations. The first person to whom his difficulties, and his proposed means of extricating himself were made known, was the Rev. Charles Simeon, of King's College, Cambridge : and such were the prompt and vigorous exertions of that zealous friend, and excellent man, that, had they been immediately known to my father, they might probably have prevented his issuing his circulars in any other quarter. On Monday, December 20, at a time when his spirits were sunk unusually low, he received from Mr. S. a letter, of which I shall take the liberty of com- municating such part as is in my possession. " My dear friend. Never was a more deligbtftd office committed to me, than that which I have to execute at this time. Your visit to Cambridge was a blessing to many, who are anxious to testify towards you their respect and love, and who earnestly request your acceptance of a few hundred pounds, which they have desired me to remit you in their name, and in the name of some others 392 FROM THE DISPOSAL OF HIS BIBLE. [ChAP. XV. who have been benefited by your writings. The amount I have eoinprehended in a bill, * It is not agreeable to our proud hearts to become, in any way or manner, beggars : but my relief has been sent on such a general hint, and with such soothing tokens of respect and affection, as more than compensate all : and I only want, to crown the whole, a heart deeply and humbly thankful to God, and to those into whose hearts he has put it thus to help me. . . . " Next month I enter my sixty-eighth year : but I have always had a bad constitution, and seldom a year without fevers, (often dangerous ;) besides asthma and other complaints : so that I am a wonder to myself. — Suf- fering and weariness must be my portion here : but I hope that my strength will be equal to my day, my consolation to my tribulation. We shall not meet on earth : but it will not be long, I trust, before we meet in heaven ; and then,/ttce to face, and not by pen and ink, I will speak 396 FROM THE DISPOSAL OF HIS BIBLL^ [ChAP. XV". tinth thee.* In the mean time, let us pray for each other; let us enter into the spirit of my new year's text, Eccles. ix. 10, Whatsoever tJty hand, wc;? /a/ acquaintance with the subject. I have, howev- er, made many observations on what others have attempted. " When curate of Olney, I, as it were, inherited a prayer- meeting conducted on the same plan, but not so wild and extravagant, as the prayer-meetings in your pa- rish are : but I soon found it needful or advisable to with- draw, and to leave the persons who conducted it to them- selves ; neither opposing nor countenancing it. Most of them became dissenters, some dissenting ministers. Since that time, I have never had any opening for any thing of the kind : but I used to advise my people, when they visited one another, or were visited by relations from other places, or met on any occasion, that one of them should read a chapter, and that the same person, or some other, should pray particularly with the company, and for their neighbours, the sick, their minister, and minis- ters in general, and missionaries, and the enlargement, purity, and peace of the church : but not to attempt other prayer- meetings. This plan seemed to answer every needful purpose : and often, when I visited the sick, or went to a distant place, a number w^ould collect around me : and I gave appropriate counsel and prayed with them. In this village, the whole population does not much exceed seventy persons, my own family included — what a contrast to your parish ! I expound in my kitchen to such as attend on a Sunday evening, and pray with them : and in winter on the week-day evening. But we have no praying-men or praying- women, (I mean in public,) either to help or hinder us. In a neighbouring village, there are prayer- meetings, at which some of my congre- gation attend and assist : but I take no part in respect of them. " In general, I am apt to think it very difficult for a minister in the establishment to form, or conduct prayer- 1813 1821.] TO HIS LAST ILLNESS. 463 meetings, in such a manner as that the aggregate good shall not be counterbalanced, or even over-balanced by positive evil. But men of far greater experience, and capacity of judging, have thought otherwise ; among whom, I especially look up to Mr. Walker, of Truro, whose regulations I thought very judicious. But I am also, I fear, prejudiced ; as the evils which arose from those at Olney induced such an association of ideas in my mind, as probably never can be dissolved. — ^Two or three effects were undeniable. 1st. They proved hotbeds, on which superficial and discreditable preachers were hastily raised up ; who, going forth on the Lord's day to the neighbouring parishes, intercepted those who used to at- tend Mr Newton. 2dli/. Men were called to pray in public, whose conduct afterwards brought a deep disgrace on the gospel. Sdly, They produce a captious, critici- sing, self wise spirit, so that even Mr. Newton himself could seldom please them. These things had no small effect in leading him to leave Olney. 4thii/. They ren- dered the people so contemptuously indifferent to the worship of God at the church, and, indeed, many of them to any public worship in which they did not take a part, that I never before or since witnessed any thing like it : and this was one of my secret reasons for leaving Olney. As what I have written seems to go far towards a neg- ative answer to your first question ; it will be needless to give any opinion on the modification of such institutions. In general, if any are explicitly countenanced by the clergymen, they should exactly conform to such regula- tions as he shall deem expedient : or, if he attend, none should officiate except himself, or some clerical friend or assistant : for it must destroy all ministerial authority and influence, for him to be present, while one of his flock, a layman, is the mouth of God to the company, or of the 464 I'ROM THE DISPOSAL OF HIS BIBLE, [ChAP. XV. company in addressing God. It is also an irregularity, which cannot be justified to our diocesans or others. " If prayer-meetings cannot be thus conducted, under the countenance of the clergyman, it appears to me, that he had better leave them, and those concerned in them, to take their course, neither directly supporting nor op- posing them ; but endeavouring to inculcate those gener- al principles, which may silently operate to regulate and purify them ; and using his influence with the more teachable and maneageable of those concerned, in private admonitions, counsels, and cautions, nearly in the man- ner which you describe. In the mean time, he must lay his account with being less /?o/>w/ar than those who more humour the people, and give them more importance among their brethren ; which is one grand advantage that dissenters of every kind have over pious clergy- men. " No caution can be more important, than what relates to-the persons called forth to take an active part in such services. The first proposal should be made with ex- treme care : for, when once a man • is considered as one of the praying or expounding persons, it will not be easy to lay him aside, even if he become a disgrace, and a dis- tress to most of the company. — As to women praying in public in the presence of men, it is so antiscriptural, so inconsistent with all the subordination in domestic life, and with all that modesty and delicacy which are the chief ornaments of the sex, that I should feel at liberty openly to protest against it. But, perhaps, it may not be expedient, as yet, for you to do so. Nothing but an undoubted prophetical spirit in the woman herself can render it consistent with scripture. ^^ But ' good is done.' God may do good notwithstand. ing : but are we to do evil that good may come ? Does 1813 — 1821.] TO HIS LAST ILLNESS. 465 he need our misconduct to accomplish his purposes ? Shall we break his laws to promote his gospel ? Good is done : but is not mischief dX^o done ? The mischief is the direct consequence : the good by occasion at most. Such men, Mr. Cecil used to say, have hut one side in their account-book : they set down their gains, but not their losses : and, these being greater than their gains, they become bankrupt. The prejudice excited ainon^tiiose without, and the various ways in which, by such practi- ces, the success and spread of the gospel are hindered, (besides the mischief done to the persons concerned,) warrant the assertion that they are most grievous evils ; bad bills indorsed sometimes by good men. " Upon the whole, I think you are going on in as hope- ful a manner as can reasonably be expected, and I rejoice in the prospect of usefulness, which lies before you. I pray God to direct, counsel, and prosper you ; pray for me, especially that I may have patience and hope to the end. I am, reverend and dear sir, your friend and ser- vant, Thomas Scott." To a clergyman who had consulted him upon a question, which the letter itself will sufficiently explain. ^^ December 20, 1819. Reverend Sir, Your letter is written in so proper a spirit, and relates to so interesting a subject, that I should deem myself favoured if I could give a satisfactory answer to it. " I have long felt some of the difficulties which you state, in respect of direct addresses in worship to the Holy Spirit, personally and separatehj ; of which cer- tainly but few are found in the sacred scriptures. Per- haps, as all our spiritual worship must be offered by His sacred teaching and influence on the heart and mind ; and as the grand promise of the New Testament, com- 3 N 466 FROM THE DISPOSAL OF HIS BIBLE, [ChAP. XV. prising all the rest for spiritual blessings, relates to God's giving us, through Christ, the Holy Spirit of life, light, holiness, power, lil)erty, and love, &c. ; it is less proper that our prayers should be offered directly and personally to the Holy Spirit. — The form of baptism, into the name of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, seems to me to recognize God our Saviour, as Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. In this view, when God is addresssd without personal distinction, I consider the ad- dress as made to the God of salvation ; and the Holy Spirit included, whether prayer or praise be offered. — The trishagion, or threefold ascription of holiness to Jehovah, both in the Old and New Testament, seems an act of worship to the Holy Spirit, together with the Fa- ther and the Son. — The form of blessing appointed by Moses, in this view, implies a prayer to the Holy Spirit, in the threefold repetition. Num. vi. 24 — 27. ; as does the apostolical benediction, 2 Cor. xiii. 14. — I have no hesitation in my mind, as to the express act of adoration, in Rev. i. 4. being offered personally to the Holy Spirit, according to the emblematical language of that book. And, when salvation is ascribed to our God, ivho sitteih on the throne, and unto the Lamb, I consider the term God as denoting the God of salvation, as above explained ; and the Larnb that was slain, as referring to the incarnate Saviour's propitiation and mediation, through whom we sinners approach God with all our worship, and to eternity shall view all our salvation as coming to us through his sacrifice. — It appears to me, that the reason why the Sinso so frequently addressed, in both scriptural prayers and adoring praises, springs from his mediatorial charac- ter, as God manifested in the flesh ; and as God was in Christ reconciling the world unto himself ; and as, in addressing him who owns us as brethren, we do not for- 1813 — 1821.] TO HIS LAST ILLNESS. 467 get his Deity, and recollect also, that he suffered^ being tempted, that he anight succour the tempted. The style of the New Testament is, the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ; as that of the Old Testament is, the God of Abraham, or of Israel: but, in both, the true God is Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, 07%e JVame, three persons : and, in addressing God in Chi^ist, we come to God by Christy even as if we addressed God as the Fa- ther of Christ. This seems clearly exhibited in the apos- tolical practice : Through whom me have access, by one Spirit, unto the Father. If then we be fully convinced that the Holy Spirit is God, and that all divine perfections and operations, to- gether with every personal property, are ascribed to him, there can be no doubt but he is the object of divine adoration. Wliere God is addressed, without distinction^ of persons, The Holy Spirit is virtually addressed : all that dependence, gratitude, love, and honour, which are required as due to our God, are required towards the Holy Spirit ; and therefore worship, and adoring praise and prayer cannot be improper. Yet, probably, had not the controversies with Arians and others made way for it, so large a proportion of personal addresses to the Holy Spirit, would not have been found in our public services. I, however, feel no dissatisfaction respecting them, though in other acts of worship! am not so gener- ally and explicitly led to address the Holy Spirit. " Should these thoughts induce you to propose any further questions, I will endeavour to answer them. I grow old and infirm, though still employed : but I much need your prayers : and, if you and your friends have de- rived any benefit from my labours, (to God be all the glory !) do not forget me at the throne of grace, but pray for me, that God would give me the increase of 468 FROM THK DISPOSAL OF HIS nillLl-:, [CllAl'. XV. faith, ntul hope, ;iiul patience ; that I may not dishonour him in my closing scene, or, aftrr preachinu; to others^ he myself a cast-aioai/ ; but may finish my course with joy. With prayer that God may abundantly bless you and youi-s, and all your labours, I am, reverend Sir, your faithful friend and brother, Thos. Scott.'' The person addressed, observes, in transmitting me the letter, '' As I believed the late Mr. Scott to be the best Bible-scholar living, being in the possession of the result of his inquiries upon the question, I have been and am perfectly at rest upon it.'' His last letter to the Rev. John Mayor, Shawbury, Salop. '• January 2, 1821 . My dear old friend, I am unwil- ling to deny your request to write a few lines in answer to your kind letter; but multiplied engagements and many infirmities must plead for a much shorter letter than I should otherwise write. " I am, indeed, very far from good health : I am wear- ing down by increasing infirmities, local and chronical diseases, and old age, almost seventy-four. — I have not been out of my parish, or at the further end of it, for several years. One service on the Lord's day seems to overdo me ; and I have got a curate. Yet, in my study I apply myself nearly as much as usual, though with much uneasiness and weariness. — Well, after all. Surely good- 7iess and mercy have followed me all my days^ and, I hope, / shall dwell in the house of God for ever. *^ I am thankful that you write as in health and spirits ; and for the favourable account you give of your family. May God gather them all into his family, and make them and their's blessed ! May the children of thy servants continue, and their seed be established before thee! (Psal. 1813 1821.] TO HIS LAST ILLNESS. 469 cii. 28.) My children, I trust, are in the way to heaven, and useful to others. I have nineteen grand-children ; all hopeful, as far as we can see : one, I trust, more than hopeful ; and others, I hope, coming forward. Pray for them. " I am as fully aware of 's unfairness, as well as gross blunders in quotation, as any book can make me : but he has the whole human heart on his side ; and he furnishes some plausible arguments to those numbers of ignoramuses, who hate the genuine gospel, but are total- ly incompetent to make any reply to it " I have the honour of having as many lies told of me, as most men in these days. I never wrote to whatever I thought or said privately, any thing like what is imputed to me. Challenged repeatedly in a peculiar style, I found it necessary to write a letter declinging the challenge, as civilly as I could with sin- cerity ; and I have no objection to the letter being published in any newspaper, if any choose to do it. He too, though less specious, among another company has all the human heart on his side : but doing good is against wind and tide, and goes on slowly ; yet, by God's blessing, surely. — I am sorry for what you write about Mr. — .... Indeed, eager, vehement, speculating Armi- nianism is most nearly allied to Pelagianism, and the tran- sition is almost imperceptible. No doubt and his meaner coadjutor defend Pelagianism, as well as Arminianism. " So you are become a dabler in prophecy, as almost every one is in these days. I read, in various ways, al- most numberless tracts, papers, pamphlets, books, upon the subject of unfulfilled prophecies : but still I cannot prophesy. Nor do I yet see reason to alter the opinions, which I have given in my former editions of the Family 470 FROM THE DISPOSAL OF HIS BIBLE, [ChAP. XV. Bible. In Daniel, I have endeavoured to elucidate and confirm those views ; I hope, successfully. When I come (should I live so long,) to Revelation, I will carefully re- vise that; and I will keep your letter, and weigh what you have said ; for I desire light from every quarter, and I trust sincerely pray daily to be set right where wrong. — At present, I am decidedly of opinion, that all des- cribing the church, or the new Jerusalem, in the xxist and xxiid of Revelation, relates to the heavenly state : that all relating to the earthly state ends, in the xxth chapter, with the account of the day of judgment : that the coming and reign of Christ, before and during the millennium, will be spiritual, not personal : that the res- urrection of souls does not mean the resurrection of bo- dies— but as John the Baptist was Elijah : and that, at at last, we are all much in the dark, and should not be confident as our descendants will know. — If the new Jeru- salem— examine its form and size — is to be placed literal- ly in Judea, how can all the kings of the earth bring their glory and riches into it, — from Mexico, Peru, China, Russia, &c. ? and what is to be done with them there ? — But I desist : I can conceive of a figurative, but can form no manner of conception of a literal fulfilment : and the whole book is allegorical '' Our best love to Mrs. M., and your brother and re- lations in London, and to my goddaughter, Jane. May God bless you, and them, and all theirs, and make them blessings ! May he grant you and yours a happy year, and many happy years ! — Pray that God would increase my faith, hope, and patience, especially, during my clos- ingscene, that I may finish my course with joy. — I remain, dear Sir, with much affection and esteem, your faithful friend and brother. Thomas Scott." 1821.} HIS LAST ILLNESS, AND DEATH. 471 CHAPTER XVI. HIS LAST ILLNESS, AND DEATH. Of the last solemn scenes of this chapter, the Rev. D. Wilson thus introduces the account, which he has already given to the public in his excellent funeral sermons. " During several years preceding the event itself, his bodily infirmities had been gradually increasing. His strength and natural spirits at times sensibly failed. His own impression was that his departure was approaching, and he contemplated it with the calmness and tranquility which I have already noticed as being implied in the first clause of my text.* He preached more than once from the words of St. Peter, with an evident refFerence to his own case. Knowing that I must shortly put off this my tabernacle. He said to me about two years since, ^ I feel nature giving way ; I am weary of my journey, and wish to beat home, if it be God's will ;' meaning that he desired to depart and to be with Christ. The nearer he came to the time of his dismissal, he became the more earnest in prayer, that God would uphold him during the scenes of suffering and trial which might await him before his last hour, expressing at the same time the deepest conviction of his own weakness and unworthiness, and his constant need of divine mercy. He had been particularly anxious during the entire period of his ministry to be * 2 Tim. iv. 6 — 8. 472 HIS LAST ILLNESS, [ChAP. XVI. preserved from dishonouring his holy profession ; and now, as life wore away, he became more and more fervent in prayer for grace that he might not say or do any thing, that sliould lessen the weight of what he had previously taught and written." What has already appeared in these pages will amply confirm the correctness of these representations. Again, after introducing some sentences from the last sermonwhichhe heard my father preach, Mr. Wilson pro- ceeds : " Thus did this holy man continue to speak and act in the near view of death. In the mean time he re- mitted nothing of his accustomed labours. It is but a short time since he wrote to one of his children, ' I believe I work more hours daily in my study than ever I did in my life.' Increasing deafness indeed precluded him al- most entirely from conversation. His spirits also failed liim more and more, and he would sometimes burst into teai^, whilst he assured his affectionate familv that he had no assignable cause of distress whatever. But his judg- ment and habits of close thought seemed to remain unim- paired still. His last discourse was delivered on Sunday, March 4th, from the words of the apostle Paul, He that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not with him also freely give us all things f In the evening of the same day he expounded as usual to several of his parishioners assembled in his rectory, from the parable of the Pharisee and the Publican. He en- tered with much animation into both these subjects ; and in the evening he applied to himself in a very affecting manner the prayer of the penitent publican, God be mer- ciful to me a sirmer. In this striking manner, did he close his public testimony to to the faith, which he had kept during his whole preceding ministry.'' Very cordially also do I concur in the following addi- 1S21.] AND DEATH. 473 tional remarks, with which Mr. W. prefaces the part of his subject to which we are approaching : — Before I proceed to give some particulars of his most instructive and affecting departure, I must observe that I lay no stress on them as to the evidence of his state be- fore God. It is the tenour of the life, not that of the few morbid and suffering scenes which precede dissolu- tion, that fixes the character. We are not authorized by scripture to place any dependence on the last periods of sinking nature, through which the Christian may be called to pass to his eternal reward. The deaths of the saints described in the inspired volume are, without ex- ception, the concluding scenes of long and consistent previous devotedness to the service of God. Such are those of Isaac, Jaccb, Moses, David. That of Stephen is the only narrative of this kind in the New Testament, which regards the article of death at all ; and the cir- cumstances in which he has placed, as the first martyr of the Christian Church, may well account for the excep- tion. The great apostle of the gentiles, and the other inspired founders of the new dispensation, are exhibited to us in the holiness of their lives, in the calmness of their approach towards death, in the deliberate judgment they form of their past labours, in their exhortations to others to supply their vacant posts of duty, in their tri- umphant anticipations of their future reward ; but not in the actual moments of their final conflict. It would therefore have been no subject of surprise, if the last days of our lamented friend had been wholly clouded by the natural operations of disease. We should then have drawn the veil entirely over them, as in the case of many of the eminent servants of Christ, in every age. But, though no importance is to be attached to these hours of fainting mortality, with reference to the acceptance and 3 0 474 HIS LAST ILLNESS, [ChAP. XVI. final triuninh of the dyini; Christian, yet, where it pleas- es God to afford one of his departing servants, as in thfe instance hefore iis, sju h a measure of faith and self pos- session as to close a holy and most consistent life, with a testimony which seak d, amidst the pains of acute disease, and in the most impressive manner, all his doctrines and instructions, during forty five preceding years, we arc called on, as I think, to record with gratitude the divine benefit, Jind to use it with humility for the confirmation of our own foithand joy." These remarks premised, I proceed to lay before the reader the best account in my power of the deeply af- fecting scene ; which I shall do chiefly in the words of let- ters written, and memorandums made on the spot. This, I trust, will be to the reader, who feels himself sufficient- ly interested in the event to excuse the minuteness of the narration, the most satisfactory plan that I can adopt. Sunday, March 4, was, as the reader has already beeti informed, the day that terminated my father's public ministrations. Almost immediately afterwards he seems to have suffered a degree of indisposition ; but not such as rendered it necessary to inform the absent branches of hh family before Friday, March 16th. A letter of that date brought me this intelligence : " Your dear father has for tins last week been seriously indisposed. The beginning of the preceding week he caught a severe cold. On Friday (the 9th,) he was, however, much bet- ter of his catarrhal affection, but on Saturday was at- tacked, in his usual way, with fever, which continued severe till Monday, (the 12th,) when it seemed to yield to the usual remedies, and he was so much better as to come down stairs for a short time. In the night the feverish symptoms increased. He was better again yesterday 1821.] AND DKATH, 47^6 morning ; but has since been -o ill that I resolved to send for Dr. Slater. He has just left us this afternoon. He says the complaint is quite the same as on former occa- sions, advises that we should pursue the plan already adopted,'' &c. The day after this letter was written, my sister, quite providentially, and as it seemed, notwithstanding many ob- stacles had opposed her journey, went over to Aston ; little expecting w^hat she was to meet with there. The next day, Sunday, my second brother arrived. The cause of his journey, and the state in which he found things, are thus described in a letter of Monday, March 19th. *^ — I had sent a man and horse over on Saturday evening to ascertain my father's real state, with directions to return early in the morning if he were very ill ; if not, to stay till Monday. He returned early yesterday, and brought me an account, which led me to fear, that, though I travelled with all the speed a post-chaise could give, I should scarcely find him alive. I came with a heavy heart: but, I am happy to say, the continuance of immediate alarm had been short ; and, as I drew near Aston, 1 met with one or two persons who gave me a more favourable account than I had anticipated. I found him, indeed, in an exceedingly weak state, but free from the extreme agitation which he laboured under during the day and night of Saturday, owing to the violence of the fever. Symptoms, I think, are on the whole impro- ving, but I cannot feel very sanguine hopes of his ulti- mate recovery. " My visit certainly is very painful ; yet at the same time very gratifying : for it has removed the distressing feeling I had about the state of his mind. His gloom, of which I had heard a good deal in an indistinct manner by no means relates to the prospects which lie before him. 476 HIS LAST ILLNESS, [ChAP. XVI. He is perfectly calm and cheerful in the view of dissolu- tion ; and seems disappointed at the symptoms of recovery. He thought his trials were almost over ; and said, that yes- terday morning he had hoped to end the sacred services of the day in heaven. Indeed his wish is, decidedly, to depart, in the confidence that he shall be with Christy tv/iich is far better. His dejection is manifestly nothing more than the feeling of a mind exhausted hy its own ex- ertions : — for, owing to his deafness, he has none of that refreshment which others feel from conversation; so that the amusements of his mind are, in fact, equal to the men- tal exertions of most men. — His feelings on Sunday were very distressing- both to himself and others, and were clearly aggravated by a degree of delirium, arising from fever. Yesterday and to day he has been quite calm, and, though too weak to speak much, is evidently in a tranquil state. — I brought my eldest boy with me, that he might once more see his grandfather, and receive his last blessing. He spoke to him for a few minutes this morning in a very affecting manner, and pronounced his blessing upon him, in a way which, I trust, he will never forget. May God grant, that he may walk in the steps which are leading his grandfather to glory !" ' The day on which this letter was written my youngest brother arrived at Aston. For myself, a still more ur- gent call detained me fmm the scene, to which duty, as well as inclination, would otherwise have led me, and kept me at Hull more than a week longer. Almost daily letters, however, informed me of the state of things at Aston. That of March 20 reported, that ^^ scarcely a hope of recovery remained," and complained still of gloom oppres- sing the revered sufferer's mind. It added : '* No doubt this dejection is occasioned, in great part, by disease, as 1821.] AND DEATH. 477 it always comes on with the (daily) paroxysm of fever. His hope of final victory, indeed, seldom wavers. — He may linger some time, and I do trust the sun of righte- ousness will yet shine upon him, and that we shall here witness his triumph : but, if not, faith will still behold him victorious over every enemy.'' The next day's letter announced nothing new. The following, from my brother, was very gratifying. '' March 22; Thursday. I take up my pen with far greater pleasure today than I have before done, to write concerning my dear father. For, though I can say no- thing at all favourable respecting his health, and indeed he appears to be approaching very near his end, yet, thanks be to God, the clouds which overspread his mind are breaking away, and he talks with a placidity and cherfulness greater than I have before seen since I came. — He passed a very distressing night, owing to the de- gree of debility induced by the feverish paroxysm of yes- terday : indeed I much doubted whether he w^ould live till morning. The symptons have, however, become more mild, and this morning he rose above his feelings of bodily uneasiness and mental depression, and seemed to rejoice in hope of the glory of God, " Just as we had assembled for family worship, he sent to say, that he wished us to meet in his room, and join with him in the Lord's supper, as a means of grace, through which he might receive that consolation which he was seeking. It is utterly impossible to describe the deeply interesting and affecting scene. The whole family (with ©ne exception,) and an old parishioner were present. The fervour displayed by my dear father, his poor ema- ciated form, the tears and sobs of all present, were almost more than I could bear, with that degree of composure, which was requisite to enable me to read the service so as 478 U13 LAST ILLXiiSS, [CllAF. XVI, to make him hear. — But it was a delightful feeling, and lias done more to cheer our downcast hearts that can well be conceived. It seems moreover to have been quite a cordial to my father's spirits, who adopted on the occa- sion the words oF the venerable Simeon in the prospect of dissolution. He is now quite calm and like himself; and can clearly discern that much of his previous uncom- fortable state of mind was merely the effect of fever. " Diiring a period of great distress from this cause yes- terday afternoon, he sent for me for the purpose of men- tioning ' something of a worldly nature.' I expected, of course, that he had some communication to make respect- ing the arrangement of his affairs. But, to my no small surprise, he said, It was time for planting his usual crop of potatoes for the poor ; and he begged that I and my brother would take steps for doing it, in a manner best calculated to secure tlie benefit to those for whom it was intended, after his disease ! — Here was an instance of ' the ruling passion strong in death,' such as, I think, has not very often been seen.*' The '* ruling passion" may be considered as, in this instance, combining two ingredients, the love of garden- ing, and a " care for the poor," which led my father to turn every nook of waste land to account, for their benefit. This evening his son-in-law, the Rev. S. King, joined the party at Aston, from London, where he had been de- tained by the threatening illness of his own father. This we shall find hereafter alluded to. My sister's letter of the next day was as follows : '' March 23. Our beloved father still live?, but can- not, we conceive, continue many hours. All yesterday, and through the night, he remained in so blessed a state of mind, that our joy and gratitude almost sw allowed up 1821.] AND DEATH. 47^ every other feeling.'^-^Sorae sentences of great joy and confidence are then reported, which will afterwards occur among the memorandums taken of what fell from him ; and it is added : ^' Erelong, however, a slight flush on Im cheek made us fear that the fever was returning ; and our fears were soon realized. The paroxysm came on with great violence, and with it that confusion and gloom, which are so distressing to himself and to us. He is more calm now, though in a state of extreme suffering. He longs ^or his release, and says, ^ All will be well at last.^ Great submission to God is displayed throughout, and T^hou art righteous is his language. — We are greatly agitated between painful and pleasant feelings : but I trust God is with us. The scene is instructive beyond ex- pression : and I have felt my faith so confirmed, that I can hardly help imagining it will never more be shaken, — We try to note down what we can ; but who can describe the look, the manner P .... ^' P. S. Afternoon. Dr. Slater is here, and my fa- ther has talked with amazing energy, and a most minute remembrance of all that has passed. — Dr. S. can hardly think his end is veri/ near.^ On Saturday, March 24, my sister wrote : — " Our be- loved father still lives, in great suffering, but in a state of mind, vi^hich, though varying, is highly delightful to all who witness it. I am so grieved that you are deprived of this consolation, which at times seems to raise us above every painful feeling, that I am determined to attempt copying some things which we have noted down, during the last few days, though aware that they will give you little idea indeed of what has passed.''— These memo- randums will appear hereafter. In conclusion she adds : -' To day he is free from fever, and in such a state, that,, were he younger, there would be little doubt of liis reco 480 HIS LAST ILLNESS, [ChAP. XVI. very. But we dare not entertain such an idea. He greatly longs to depart, and is disquieted at the thought of what really is not very improbable, — a lingering illness. His constitution is wonderful.^' .... " I have given you some of our dear father's words : but the way in which they were spoken is beyond all de- scription.'' Dr. Slater of Wycombe is the physician here repeat- edly referred to ; who, on these and many other occa- sions, visited ray father, at the distance of twenty miles, as, strictly speaking, a '" professional /r^er^c?," — without any other remuneration than that which his generous and ardent mind derived from ministering to one whom he revered and loved. The same day a letter to the Rev. D. Wilson observes: " He has, with one or two exceptions, had a violent pa- roxysm of fever every day for a fortnight." And, after reporting his remark on Mr. W.'s message to him, which will be noticed elsewhere, proceeds : " Humility is con- spicuous in him to a surprising degree, united with a most deep sense of the awful responsibility which rests on him, in consequence of his having written so much on such important subjects." Monday's letter only reports him " much weaker in body, but more calm in mind ; anxious for departure, but yet willing to stay if he might do any spiritual good to any one." On Tuesday, March 27, my brother wrote as follows : — " Our dear father appeared all yesterday evening in a very tranquil state, and slept much ; but expecting that he should not live through tlie night. About half past two this morning, Mr. Dawes went to him, and found that he had slept comfortably. His pulse was then only eighty^ifthe minute. He went to him again at half past 1821.] AND DEATH. 481 six, and was astonished to find that it had risen to one hundred and fifty-six ! and was very feeble, fluttering, and irregular : in short, every symptom almost portend- ed a speedv dissolution, and all the family were collected in the room expecting his departure. But a cordial draught had the effect of relieving the urgent symptoms ; and, in consequence of this little revival, we have been favoured, yet exquisitely wounded, with a number of most touching expressions of his affectionate regard ; and have gained a very interesting view of the state of his mind. Wha we can hear him say, while sitting by his bed-side, has reminded me of an operation said to have been lately performed in France, by which, a part of the ribs being removed, it was discovered that the pericar- dium in the living subject is transparent, and the whole heart was seen performing all its functions. You will un- derstand the application of this from the expression of one of his truly affectionate servants : Oh, what a com- fort it is, that my master thinks aloud,^ — His desires after sipritual enjoyments appear unbounded ; and he cannot be fully satisfied, because he cannot enjoy on earth what belongs only to heaven. " He sleeps a good deal this morning : but we see, or think we see, the rapid approaches of death : so that I should not wonder, if before the post-hour I should have to announce to you, that the Lord has heard his prayer?, and given him a release from all his troubles and sufferings. Indeed, humanely speaking, this would have taken place long ere this time, had it not been for the exceedingly great and unremitting attention of Mr. Dawes, who has watched him by night as well as by day, and, in a most skilful manner, applied every palliative, which the na- ture of the case could admit. I cannot but look on it, as a very merciful interposition of providence, that, at a 3P 482 HIS LAST ILLNESS, [CllAP. XVI. period of life when my father wanted the active attend ance of a young person, and all his own children were removed from him, such a one was found to supply our place. Dawes, indeed, seems to love him as if he were one of his own children : or, if there be (as indeed there must be) the absence of the pecular feelings of na- tural affection, that very circumstance better qualifies hini for the kind ofiice which he has sustained during this trying season ; by enabling him to apply his judgment to the case, with somewhat more coolness than we could have done, even had we possessed equal skill." The circumstance noticed in this letter, and on which both my brother and the domestic congratulate themselves, was very much owing to the deafness of my dear father, which led him to express audibly whatever passed in his mind, almost without being aware of it. The latter part of the letter, I have thought it due to the affection and the services of a very promising young man to insert. Mr. W. R. Dawes, who has been alrea- dy alluded to as first my father's pupil, and subsequent- ly his literary assistant, has for some time past regularly devoted himself to the medical profession, with every prospect of credit to himself and advantage to others ; and his residence in the house was no doubt a great com- fort and assistance both to the venerable sufferer, and his mourning family, during the scenes which these letters describe. This evening my fathers nephew, the Rev. T. Web- ster, arrived, to take a last farewell of his uncle. The account sent me the next day was very gratifying, but I was not in Hull to receive it. Having been re- leased by a change of circumstances at home, I that day set out for Aston, where I arrived the next evening. Still, however, communications were continued to the 1821.] AND DEATH. 483 absent members of the family, and to some friends, which will furnish me with further extracts. My sister's let- ter of this day (Wednesday, March 28,) contained the following sentences : — ^' Our beloved father is still with us ; and, did not his pulse indicate approaching dissolution, we should scarce- ly think it possible that a dying man could speak and think with the energy and clearness he does. 0 that you were here ! How would it rejoice your heart to witness his calm and heavenly spirit ; his humility, faith, tenderness, and love. He seems the most like his Sa- viour of any mortal I ever beheld : yet, still longing for more holiness. Never, indeed, will he be satisfied till he enters the realms of eternal bliss. — The agitation of mind, under which he did labour, we trust, is finally dispersed. He sometimes expresses a fear of the last struggle : yet, in general, speaks of it with composure and confidence. — I cannot tell you how our dread of se- paration from him is increased, since he has shewn such tender affection, and has become so ready to talk to us all. .... But I trust God will support us, and that we shall all derive great and lasting benefit from the scene passing before us." Friday, March 30, I thus made my report of the slate in which I found things : ii It was not till some hours after my arrival that I could conveniently see my dear father, as he was, and li ,d been through the day, in a slumbering state ; and, as an accession of fever was then coming on, it was desirable that he should be kept quiet. He had expressed a fear, that, if I came, it would add to his troubles, by producing anxiety for i/ou ; and, when I saw him, he asked, with whom I had left you in charge. " His illness has been quite extraordinary for one of his 484 Ills LAST ILLNESS, [ChAP. XVL age. andsomucli reduced : the fever has heen so violent — his colour; at times, ahiiost resembling mahogany — and his pulse from one hundred and fifty to one hundred and seventy. — Dr. Slater has said, since Tuesday in last week, that he could do nothing for his restoration. He says himself, that the powers of animal life feel undiminished, and he rather dreads lying long in this state. — Being under the influence of fever last night, he had lost sight of the joyful feelings and exulting expressions of which you have been informed, and was but gloomy. He had a tolerably quiet night, and was this morning more free from fever, but looked very death -like. His language was more cheerful, and his prayers of an elevated kind ; as, ' that he might be one of those in whom Christ should come to be glorified in that day,'^ <^c. — He rather tri- umphed in the birth of our little girl, and implored bles- sings on * his twenty-one grand-children.' He speaks from time to time, more impressively and with more ani- mation to his grandson Thomas, than to almost any one else. But he says less than he has done, and is more disposed to slumber Poor Betty Moulder looks confidently past all present sufferings, and past the remain- der of her own prospects in this life, to the event of re- joining him in glory. She very simply and fervently said to him the other day, ^ 0, sir, when I get to heaven, and have seen Jesus Christ, the very next person I shall ask for will be you !' " I continue my extracts, and shall have need to make very little addition to them. April 1st, Sunday. ^* The day before yesterday my father seemed very weak and sinking, and we thought he would not live through the night : but yesterday he was stronger, and to day is better, I think, than on Friday. Upon the whole, he has been more cheerful.'' 1821.] AND DEATH. 485 April 3d, Tuesday. " Several fresh and unfavour- able symptoms have appeared — a degree of diai'rhrp.a. which cannot be checked, and some spots upon the feet which threaten mortification. He is, indeed a pitiable object of weakness and suffering : but his mind is, in most respects vigorous, and his memory quick and correct His paroxysms of fever have not lately come on as they did, and his mind has in consequence been more cahn and peaceful : but his pulse has maintained the extraordinary height I before mentioned — one hundred and seventy. It is most edifying to observe his solemn earnestness, pro- found humility, cleaving to Christ alone, and fervent love and kindness to all about him. His attention to the feel- ings of every body is surprising and beautiful. His extreme deafness is a sad obstruction, and causes him to be left almost to his own resources. We can attempt lit- tle by address to him : but he most kindly receives any hint which one suggests by shouting in his ear. He has dreaded living long under increasing suffering, lest this should lead him to impatience. The other night, when he asked, under these apprehensions, ' When will this end ?' I replied, laying my head down by his, ' In God's good time.' ' Ah,' he said, ' that is a good expression — God's goodtim^ : I thank you for it :' and he has dwelt upon it ever since, and mentioned it almost every time I have seen him." To the Rev. D. Wilson, April 5th, Thursday. " My very dear friend, 1 have now been here a week, watch- ing over the dying bed of my dear honoured father, and daily expecting his dissolution. It is a deeply affecting and edifying scene ; and what passed before I could come, was, I suppose, more interesting still. In every thing but comfort his state may be said to be even sublimely Christian, Such an awful sense of eternal things, of the 486 HIS LAST ILLNESS, [ChAP. XVI. evil of sin, and of the holiness of God — such profound self-abasement — such cleaving unto Christ alone — such such patience, resignation, and unlimited submission to the will of God — such a constant spirit of fervent prayer — such pouring forth of blessings on all around him — with such minute and tender attention to all their feelings — it is truly admirable to behold. His state is bright in every one's view but his own. To his own apprehension, he in great measure walks in darkness, I have myself scarcely witnessed a gleam oijoy. His habitual temper is rather that which the words of Job describe. Though he slay me, yet will I trust in hijn. — ^This is often pain- ful, sometimes it is discouraging to our feelings : yet, we are sensible that there is a call upon us for unbounded gratitude and praise. " Indeed, it cannot be wondered at, that my dear fa- ther should have much to contend with, considering how his mind has been absolutely worn down by labour, with- out intermission or recreation — the extraordinary fact of his pulse having been now for ten days at one hundred and seventy — and his deafness, which almost entirely shuts him up, and leaves him to his own resources. We cannot pray with him, to make him hear. Thrice, in- deed, he has received the sacrament, with edifying and most affecting solemnity ; and then, from his knowledge of the words, aided by painful vociferation on the part of the person officiating, he could follow the service. One of these occasions was succeeded with blessed relief and comfort to his mind : but, as he says, the clouds return after the rain. — I am very shy of addressing one, to whom I so much look up : but occasionally the attempt to convey to his ear some sentence of God's word has succeeded ; and it is so kindly und thankfully received as is very affecting. But we arc obliged to keep, on these occasions, almost 1821.] AND DEATH. 487 entirely to first principles— such as the coming of the sinner to the Saviour A great part of his time he has prayed and thought aloud, as insensible of the presence of any fellow creature ; and the train of his thoughts, thus dis- covered, has been striking, and often highly elevated. Thus : ' Posthumous reputation ! the veriest bubble with which the devil ever deluded a wretched mortal. But posthumous i<5e/M/?2e*5, — in that there is indeed something. That what was Moses desired, and Joshua, and David, and the prophets ; the apostles also, Peter, and Paul, and John ; and most of all the Lord Jesus Christ. — Again ; ' 0 Lord, abhor me not — though I be indeed abhorrible, and abhor myself! Say not. Thou filthy soul, continue filthy still: but rather say, I will, he thou clean.^ " April 9th, Monday. " The only fresh symptom is great drowsiness, which is thought some indication of ef- fusion on the brain ; the effect of which might be ex- pected to be stupor and insensibility : and his continu* ance would then, probably, not be long. He greatly needs the pity and prayers of you all, and earnestly asks them." April llth, Wednesday. " My dear father still con- tinues, and, I hope, suffers less, though he grows much weaker. Thank God, his gloom seems very much to have dispersed. ' I have not,' he latelv said, ' that fear of death which jl had.' (Qu. of the act of dying?) And yesterday : ' I find myself much more able to ap- proach unto God than I was : butsuch asenseof unworthi- ness and defilement, as I cannot express.' — On parting with us last night he said, ' God knows how well I love you all : but I have no wish to see any of you again in this world. Do not think this cruel.' " My brothers had been obliged to return to their re- 488 HIS LAsr ILLNESS, [Chap. XVL spective homes on Tuesday, and did not reach Aston again till after his death. To the Rev. Dr. K viand. Bristol, Friday, April 13. — ^' I am happy to say, as his weakness increases, I hope his positive suflering is habitually less; and his mind ap- pears generally calm and cheerful. He says very little; but what he does drop is of a gratifying kind. — On the whole, his closing scene, notwithstanding these passing ciouds, is evidently worthy of his Christian character and hopes : and we have great cause to bless God without ceasing, on his behalf. Certainly we ought also to be much edified and excited by what we witness. — At times he expresses considerable apprehension of the pang of death itself. I hope, in this his fears may prove ground- less. I am sure your prayers for him will not be want- ing while he continues ; and when any change takes place we will not fail to inform you.'' At seven o'clock in the evening of Monday, April 16th, I wrote to my daughter, at Hull, as follows : '' Half an hour ago, your dear blessed grandpappa ceased to b?^eathe. It was literally this and no more. Thus has he eventually been spared even the least object of his fear. His mind had been peaceful and happy of late. Oh how peaceful does he now look ! Not a groan, not a sigh escaped him at the end. We are as composed as could be expected. — But I can hardly save the post. — May our last end belike his!" The next day I wrote home a more particular account of the closing scene, than either the time or the circum- stances would allow that evening. April 17th, Tuesday. " For two days my dear iiither coughed almost incessantly, though not violently; which was accompanied with frequent expectoration. But on Saturdav this almost entirely ceased. In consequence 1821.] AND DEATH. 489 an increased difficulty of breathing succeeded, and we feared suffocation might take place. On Sunday night he was very ill, so as to make us apprehend his death was at hand. On Monday morning he was, for a time, a good deal better : but the oppression returned and increased. Nothing immediate was anticipated, when his death ac- tually approached. I had taken a walk, and on my re- turn visited his chamber. We then all came down to tea ; in the course of which it was remarked, that it did not seem quite well for him to be left attended only by a ser- vant, as her grief appeared to distress him. I said, I would go up immediately. I did so : but Dawes had an- ticipated me. He had found my father worse, dismissed the servant, and was supporting him, nearly in an erect posture, upon his arm. I said, ' This cannot surely last long :' and D. replied, ' Not through the night, I think.' I looked in his face, and saw his eyes in some degree turn upwards, which I pointed out to D. (who was rather be- hind him,) and he immediately said, ^ You had better tell those who wish to see him again to come.' I did so in a calm manner, and went before them. He was sinking as quietly as an infant dropping asleep, and with a beautiful look of composure. My mother and sister wished to come in, and, on my saying there was nothing to shock them, they did so. We all looked on for a minute or two, while the last respirations quietly ebbed away — so to speak. So far from feeling shocked, it was a relief to all our minds to see such labour, as his breathing had been, subside into such sweet peace and ease. — He had been peaceful and happy, on the whole, for several days, and on Sunday, and on the morning of Monday, bad said some delightful things. — His mind was clear to the last moment ; and, I believe, in the article of death itself, he suffered much less than for many hours, or even days before.— The last 3Q 490 HIS LAST ILLNESS, [ChAP. XVI. effort which he made was to stretch out his hand to his servant, when she was about to leave the room. A very little time before he had affectionately shaken hands with me. — He had been shaved only two hours and a half be- fore his death, and at that time he opened his shirt-neck, and put all out of the way for the operation. ^' All that he has taught and done is now sealed by his dying testimony, and his dying example. jYo blot can now come upon it from him ; which was so long and so much the object of his prayers. Blessed be God ! — More heavenly dispositions, surely, could not be exhibit- ed than prevailed in him throughout his illness — even when he walked in dai^kness. — Not one of all his fears has been realized: indeed, they all vanished away one by one. The last which he expressed, was, on Friday, of the agony of death : but where was the agony to him? Peace, peace, perfect peace ! All our hopes have been exceeded. The close has been a cordial to us all : and how substantial the comfort ! The constant prevalence of such tempers, under the most ti ying of circumstances, — how much superior an evidence is this, to any degree of confidence unsupport- ed by even a like measure of meetness for the inherita?ice of the saints in light / . . . . He was pouring out his blessings and prayers for the dear children to a very late period ; particularly on Saturday night, (though so very ill,) when reminded that it was Jane's birth-day.'^ The following is the account of the same event furnished to Mr. Wilson by the faithful and affectionate young friend^ in whose arms my father expired : — " One of his last efforts was to give his hand to his weep- ing servant ; which was a beautiful evidence that the ten- der attention to the feelings of those around him, which marked his whole illness, continued to form a prominent 1821.] AND DEATH. ' 491 feature in his state of mind even to the last. After this, which took place about five minutes before his death, he appeared to be lost in prayer; but just at the moment when he reclined his head on my breast, the expression of his countenance suddenly changed from that of prayer, and indicated, as I conceived, a transition to feelings of admiring and adoring praise, with a calmness and peace which are quite inexpressible. The idea strongly im pressed upon ray mind was, that the vail which intercepts eternal things from our view was removed, and that, like Ste- phen, he saw things invisible to mortal eye.'' Since these pages were prepared for the press, another account of the closing scene, drawn up by my sister, only as a private memorandum, has come into my hands, and I feel unwilling to withhold it. " On the evening of Sunday his breath became dread- fully oppressed, and we stood by in great alarm and dis- tress, witnessing his agonies. He was delightfully calm and tenderly affectionate : desired us to go to supper, as we needed refreshment, and gave us his parting blessing. He said to me, ' Give my dying blessing to your husband, and his father and mother.' " He however revived again, and on Monday seemed rather better ; though his inability to throw off the phlegm, which accumulated in great quantities, convinced us that his end was approaching. '' On Mr. D.'s feeling his pulse, he inquired, ' Any change ? Any token for good ?' Mr. D. answered, ' I think you are not so ill as you were in the morning.' ^ Very well,' was his reply : seeing the bitter distress of a servant who sat by him, and repeatedly shook his head as a sign that she should mo- derate her grief. As her feelings became ungovernable, she rose to leave the room : which when he perceived, he made an attempt to take his hand out of bed, to give her before she went : but his weakness prevented his succeed- ing. It was his last effort. He soon after made a sign to Mr . D. to raise his head. Mr. D . tookhira in his arms; he laid his head 1821.] AND DEATH. 493 on his shoulder, and raised his eyes to heaven : a look of un- utterable joy, an expression of glory begun, came over his whole countenance, and in a few minutes, without sigh or struggle, without even a discomposed feature, he sweetly slept in Jesus. We all, even my poor mother, stood by and were comforted. We could hardly conceive it could be death ; and when assured by Mr. D., who still held him in his arms, that the heart had ceased to beat, our first words were praise and thanksgiving to that God, who had delivered him from every fear, from all evil, and re- ceived him to his eternal kingdom and glory. — We soon indeed awoke to the sense of our own irreparable loss. To the end of life we must mourn such a wise counsellor, bright example, and fervent intercessor. Yet never can we think of him without blessing and praising God on his behalf, for all he did /or him and by him ; for having so long preserved to us such a treasure, — even till, we hum- bly trust, we through grace have a blessed hope of all being at length re-united with him in the realms of endless bliss ! ^' It is not easy to describe the deep grief of his peo- ple, when the mournful event was made known in the village and neighbourhood. ' Our/nV/zt/is gone !' ' We have lost omy friend /' were the lamentations of the poor on every side. Even the most stupid and thoughtless of his parishioners were roused to feeling on this occasion. Numbers of the parish and neighbourhood came to take a last look, and stood by the corpse overwhelmed with grief,— many of whom had paid little attention to his in- structions while living." Mr. Wilson remarks: — "Upon such a departure no feeling but that of gratitude and joy can arise in the Christiaa's breast, unless perhaps a momentary regret 494 HIS LAST ILLNESSj [ChAP. XVL should cross the mind for the extremity of suffering wliich our friend was called to endure. But that will soon subside into submission, when we recollect the calm- ness with which the blessed apostle in our text speaks of his own still more violent death. For the Christian will heboid in both, not so much the external circumstances or the personal anguish, as the principle on which they w^ere supported, and the acceptance with which they were crowned. Yes, my brethren, the dissolution of our ven- erable friend, though not, like the inspired apostle's, a martyrdom for the cause of Christ, in which he poured out his blood as a libation ; yet, so far as intense sufferings from the ordinary attacks of disease, and the superadded assaults of Satan, gave him the occasion of testifying his faith and patience, of confirming his fidelity to Christ, of displaying for the instruction and encouragement of the surviving church, a most affecting scene of a dying disciple adhering to his Saviour under the bitterest temptations and most oppressive conflicts, and then fal- ling asleep with peace and resignation ; his death was a sacred act, the consummation of his devotedness to God. And his composure, not only in contemplating his depar- ture when near, but in enduring it and supporting it when it arrived, surrounded as it was with circumstances calcu- lated to dismay an ordinary faith, formed a striking ex- emplification of the Christian fortitude which is so nobly evinced by the blessed apostle in the triumphant passage we have been considering/' The funeral took place on the Monday following, April 23. It was our intention to act strictly according to his own directions, by making it as plain and private as pos- sible. But, as the hour approached, numbers of those who had enjoyed his acquaintance, withmany others who 1821.] AND DEATH. 495 ^^ esteemed him highly in love for his work's sake/^ — some of them coming from a very considerable distance, — began to collect around the church and the parsonage- house. On the procession leaving the garden-gate, it was attended by sixteen clergymen ; while thirty or for- ty respectable females, in full mourning, stood ready, in double line, to join it as it passed towards the church. That little building was more crowded, probably, than on any former occasion ; and a large number of persons collected round the windows, unable to enterfor want of room. In the absence of the Rev. J. H. Barber, (the present rector,) who had been disappointed of arriving in time, the funeral service was read by the Rev. S. B. Mathews, curate of Stone. The Rev. John Hill, vice- principal of St. Edmund's Hall, Oxford, addressed the congregation, previously to the interment, from the words of dying Jacob, " I have waited for thy salvation, 0 Lord !" and the very appropriate hymn was sung, be- ginning, " In vain my fancy strives to paint The moment after death," 8cc. Mr. Wilson's funeral sermon was preached on the Friday following. It was our intention, and very much our wish, that it should have been delivered from the same pulpit, whence the venerated servant of Christ, who gave occasion to it, had for eighteen years, '' decla- red the whole counsel of God :" but it was foreseen that the little church of Aston would be utterly inadequate to receive the numbers who would desire to present. The neighbouring church of Haddenham therefore, which'had been kindly offered, was thankfully, though, at the same time, somewhat reluctantly accepted for the service. The event shewed the necessity of making the exchange, for even that large building was not sufficient to accom- 496 HIS LAST ILLNESS, ChAP. XVL modate the crowds who assembled. The appearance of the congregation, in which a large proportion of all ranks had provided themselves with mourning, evinced how highly my dear father was esteemed in the neighbour- liood, thoiich his infirmities and engagements had con- spired for a long time past to confine him within the lim- its of his own vilage. Before I proceed to other documents, I will lay before the reader a few short extracts of letters from different members of the family, shewing the view which they took of the whole scene, in proportion as they were ena- bled to look back upon it more deliberately, and with greater composure. April 20. ^^ We feel that we have had a grand and most edifying Christian spectacle proposed to us : far more striking and instructive than if all had been smooth." April 25. " It was a great fear of my dear father's that his death-bed scene should depress any of lis, par- ticularly myself. How much otherwise has been the ef- fect ! I do confess that the contemplation of the whole, in all its connexions, produces such an effect that I can- not feel depressed at present.'' — (The letter in reply to which this was written, brought some painful intelli- gence ) — " After seeing fears so disappointed, (if I may use the expression,) and prayers so answered, I cannot but indulge hope." May 29. " When I dare to recall past scenes, I hope I do it with much praise and thankfulness, mingled with my sorrow : and I really do think, that even the most painful part of your beloved fathers experience affords matter rather of gratitude than of grief. As I observed before, it reminded me of a fine sun-set, heightened by the dark and gloomy clouds tinted with gold ; and I cer- 1821.] AND DEATH. 497 tainly think the scene afforded more to warn, excite, and interest us, than a more serene and unclouded one would have done. — Some of our best feelings were, I trust, drawn out on this most melancholy andaifecting occasion, and our hearts still more than before united in tender af- fection.'' June 2. ''I remain in a very debilitated state My mind too, after all its over excitement at Aston, has sunk almost into what the doctors call a collapsed state ; and it seems sometimes as torpid as its companion. I do not, however, mean by this to say, that the effects of what I have so lately witnessed and experienced have entirely subsided. I would not thus undervalue the goodness of God ; who, by means of the bereavement we have lately sustained, and all its attendant circumstances, has done me, I would fain hope, permanent good. — I often look back with joy and gratitude to our delightful meeting, — for delightful certainly it was, though mingled with such exquisite pain. Surely it was a foretaste of that time, when, I humbly trust, we shall all be re-united in the realms of eternal bliss ! — You ask for my now calmer re- flections : but I cannot yet think calmly on what has passed. My heart overflows with a strange mixture of feelings, whenever my thoughts turn that way. Those of a joyful nature, however, predominate. The amazing goodness of God to me and mine-— our past happiness— our future prospects— at times quite overpower my mind, andl seem almost lost in ' wonder, love, and praise.'— But lam afraid of yielding to these happy emotions, lest they should not rest on a secure foundation, as regards my- self : and yet peahaps a merciful God bestows them, as a cordial to support me under my depressing maladies ; and ought I to turn away fronaithe cup of consolation which he so graciously puts into my hand, unworthy as I am of 3R 498 HIS LAST ILLNESS, [04 HIS LAST ILLNESS, [ChAP. XVI. what lioly feelings were they ; what spirituality, what Jiatred oi" sin, what humility, what simple faith in Christ, what zeal for (lod's glory, what submission ! Never could I hear him without being reminded of Him, who, being in. an agony ^ prayed the more earnestly; and whose language was. My God^ my God, why hast thou forsaken me ? A'^evertheless Thou continuest holy ! ' \ think nothing,' he said, ' of ray bodily pains : my soul is all. I trust all will end well ; but it is a dreadful conflict. 1 hope — I fear — I tremble — I pray. Satan tries to be revenged on me, in this awful hour, for all that I have done against his kingdom through life. He longs to pluck me out of Christ's hand. Subdue the enemy, 0 Lord ! Silence the accuser ! Bruise Satan under my feet SHORTLY ! Hide me, O my Saviour hide, Till the storm of life is past, Safe into the haven guide, O receive my soul at last! Other rcfug-e I have none !' — » Oh, to enter eternity with one doubt on the mind ! Eternity — Eternity — Eternity /' — ' People tnlk of as- surance not being attainable in this world, nor perhaps much to be desired. They and the devil agree on this point.' — ^ Oh what a thing sin is! — Who knoweth the power of His wrath f If this be the way to heaven, what must the way to hell be ? Jf the righteous scarce- ly be saved, where shall the wigodly and the sinner ap- pear P' " He mentioned the wonderful way in which his pray- ers for others had been answered ; and seemed to derive some comfort from the reflection. He thought he had failed less in the duty of intercession than in any other !* * Perhaps, when all circumstances are fully considered, there is not a sentence in these papers more remarkable than this : nor ^^^1-] AND DEATH. 505 ^^He rejected every attempt to comfort him by re- minding him of the way in which he had served and glo- rified God. ' Christ is all/ he said : ' He is my only hope. Hide me, 0 my Saviour, &c. ! Other refuge have I none^^ &c. " In the midst of his conflict he generally expressed hope of final victory, but thought he should die under a cloud. He accused himself of self-indulgence and slack- ness in prayer; of having made his religious labours an excuse for shortness in private devotion. " There was an astonishing absence of selfish feeling. Even in his worst hours he thought of the health of us all : observed if we sat up long, and insisted upon our retiring ; and was much afraid of paining or hurting us in any way. " His wonderful knowledge of scripture was a source of great comfort, and the exactness with which he repeat- ed passage after passage, frequently remarking upon em- phatic words in the original, was amazing. The manner also in wnich he connected one with another was admira- ble. It resembled hearing a series of exquisitely select- ed scripture -references read with a solemnity and feeling such as one had never before witnessed. ^^His first clear consolation was after receiving the Lord's Supper, on Thursday, March 22d. He had previously ob- served ; ' An undue stress is by some laid upon this ordi- nance, as administered to the sick, and I thinkothers of us are in danger of undervaluing it. It is a means of grace, and may prove God's instrument of conveying to me the comfort I am seeking.' The scene was indescribable, and can never be forgotten by any who witnessed it. His fervour, his a fact in his history more indicative of his zeal for God and love to man, than that to whicli it relates. Who among us can make a similar declaration ? 3 S 506 HIS LAST ILLNESS, [ChAP. XVL humility? the way in which he raised his emaciated hands to heaven, his pallid dying countenance, so full of love, and expressive of every thing heavenly and holy, the tears and sobs of those present : all together were most overpowering. Surely God was with us in a pecular manner. Shortly after the service was concluded, he said, JVow Lord lettest thou thy servant depart in peaces for mine eyes have seen thy salvation. Through the remain- der of the day, though much exhausted, and during the night, he continued in a very happy state of mind. ^^To his son-in-law, w^ho came in the evening, and re- gretted his absence when the sacrament was administer- ed, he said : ' It was beneficial io me : I received Christ, and he received me. I feel a composure which I did not expect last night : I have not triumphant assurance, but something which is more calm and satisfactory. I bless God for it. And then he repeated, in the most emphatic manner, the whole twelfth chapter of Isaiah : O Lordj I will praise thee ; though thou wast angry with me, thine anger is turned away, and thou comfortest me^ &c.' Oh to realize \\\^ fulness of joy ! to have done with temptation ! They shall hunger no more^ neither thirst any more ; neither shall the sun light on them nor any heat : for the Lambj ivhich is in the midst of the throne, shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of waters : and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes. — They are come out of great tribulation, and have washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. There^ fore are they before the throne of God.' ' Sin, my worst enemy before, Shall vex my eyes and ears no more : My inward foes shall all be slain, Nor Satan break my peace again.'— 1821.] AND DEATH. 507 '' We know not what we shall be : but ive know, that when he shall appear ^ we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is, — The righteous hath hope in his death — not driven away; no, no, not driven away, as the wicked is,' * When I tread the verge of Jordan, Bid my anxious fears subside !' — * Though painful at present, 'T will cease before long ; And then, oh how pleasant The conqueror's song !' *^ ' What a mercy/ he said, on something being pre- pared for him, ' that there are so many changes of food for bad apetites ; and so many kind relatives, friends, and domestics, doing all they can to help me. — You are all trying to comfort me : God bless you, and all whom you desire to be blessed ! He will be a God to Abraham, and to his seed, and his seedh seed. Let the children of thy servant continue, and their seed be established hefore thee! How would the powers of darkness boast If but one praying soul were lost'.' He frequently repeated, Perfect peace ! " In the evening he asked Mr. Dawes if there was not a proof sheet that night, extending nearly to the close of St. John. And then, evidently going over in his mind the contents of the last chapters of that gospel, he said, ' Well : // is finished: We shall soon finish our work too. After a pause— -il/z/ Lord, and my God f and then, with great animation, These things ars writ- ten that ye might believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that, believing, ye might have life through his name.^^Ue again paused, and then proceed- ed : ' Lovest thou me P' and, turning to his sons, ' It is 508 HIS LAST ILLNESS, [ChAP. XVL too late to say to me^ but he says to you^ feed my sheepy feed my lambs. That is the way to shew your love. I have endeavoured to do it, but it is all over now.' Mr. D. said, ^ Your works will furnish food for them for a long time to come :' he replied, ' Aye, but they will get out of fashion.' Mr. D. ^ The Bible will not get out of fashion.' ^ But they will get a new fashioned way of commenting on it.' Mr. D. said something further on the permanency on his comment. ' Pho,' he cried with a semi-contemptuous smile ; and added : ' Oh, you do not know what a proud heart I have, and how you help the devil. They may take a few hints, I hope. I leave something which they may have in remembrance after my disease, but oh !' — with great solemnity — ' what an awful responsibility rests upon me ! I have done what I could. Forgive — accept — bless !' " He proceeded : ' There is one feeling I cannot have if I would. Those that oppose my doctrine have slan- dered me sadly : but I cannot feel any resentment, I can only love and pity them, and pray for their salvation. I never did feel any resentment against them : I only re- gret that I did not more ardently long and pray for the salvation of their souls.' — ' I feel most earnest in prayer for the promotion of Christ's kingdom all over the earth. Hallowed be thy name — Thy kingdofn come — Thy will be dojie on eaiHh as it is in heaven ! — Be thou exalted^ Lord, in thy own strength ; so will ive sing and praise thy power. '^ — « There are two causes in the world, the cause of God, and the cause of the devil ; the cause of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the cause of the devil. The cause of God will prevail all over the world, among all kindreds, and people, and tongues. It shall fill the whole earth . Halloived be thy name, &c . ' ^' 'I hope I leave something,' he said, referring to his 1821.] AND DEATH. 509 writings, * which may do good to the industrious ; and nothing can do good to the idle/ " He afterwards alhided with great concern to the death of his father. ' I fear he knew not Immanual, the Lord our righteousness. His last letter to me was full of Socinian principles. I wrote a long and affection- ate answer, but he died before it arrived.' — Then to his grandson : ' You see your grandfather, I trust, die a more Christian death than his father : may you die a more Christian death than either grandfather or great- grandfather ! To this end lead a more Christian life. You have greater advantages then they had. You You have been j&/aw^ec? in the courts of the Lord : but oh !' (raising his emaciated hands with amazing ener- gy,) ' despise not the birth-right ; \estafterivards you find it not J though you seek it carefully with tears. — I have nothing but my blessing and good will to give you. I have no money to leave you ; and, if I had, it would be a mere a bauble, a bubble, all vanity.' " In the night Mr. Dawes, sitting by him, heard him say in a low voice : ' 0 God, thou art the husband of the widow, the father of the fatherless : be thou a husband to my widow, a father to my children, a friend to this young friend who sits so kindly by me.' '' He had some refreshing sleep, and awoke in great calmness. ' This,' he said, ' is heaven begun : I have done with darkness for ever— for ever. Satan is van- quished. Nothing now remains, but salvation with eternal glory — eternal glory. ^ "In the morning, (Friday, March 23,) the flush in his cheek announced the return of fever, and with it there was some agitation and distress : ' But,' said he, ' though I feel some temptation, more than I have done through the night, yet, for a dying day, it is all mercy. 310 HIS LAST ILLNESS, [ClIAP. XVI. T have ivaited for thy salvation^ 0 Lord : preserve me yet !' — The paroxysm came on with great violence : his sufferings were extreme, and confusion and gloom pre- vailed. He cried earnestly to God. ' All my calm and comfort,' he said, ' are gone : nothing remains of them but a faint recollection, — and that I can pray for you. — Well, after all, God is greater than Satan. Is not Christ all-sufficient ? can he not save to the uttermost ? hath he not promised to save ? Lord, deliver me ! Suffer not Satan to prevail ! Pity, pity, Lord, pity me !' " The absence of every murmur and complaint, under such heavy mental and bodily sufferings, was very striking. He said, with reference to dying under this gloom, ' If it be so, I cannot help it : Thou art righteous ! Father ^ glorify thy name ! — If my soul were sent to hell Thy righteous law approves it well. Yet save a trembling sinner, Lord, Whose hope, still hovering round thy word, Would light on some sweet promise there, Some sure support against despair. Round thy word : not hunting after any new revelation : No, no : I want nothing new ; nothing but the old doc- trine, and faith to lay hold of it. That will bear me through all.' " Dr. Slater now came. To him he related with great accuracy all that had passed, both as to body and mind, since he saw him on Tuesday ; and asked his advice re- specting taking opiates, which he found most efficacious in quieting his over-excitement, preventing delirium, and reducing the mind to its natural state, so that he could pray w^ith peace and calmness. — ' Observe,' he said, 1821.] AND DEATH. oil ^ I do not fear death.^ ' No/ replied Dr. S., ^ I know you desire to depart.' ' In that/ said he^ ' the Lord'vS will be done : I want to do my duty : I would not shorten my sufferings by the least sin.' " In the evening the fever abated, and he became calm. His mind dwelt much upon love, ' God is love; and he that dwelleth in love^ dwelleth in God^ and God in him. Faith that worketh by love.^ He seemed fidl of tender- ness and affection to all around him. ^One evidence/* he said, ' I have of meetness for heaven — I feel such love to all mankind — to evei^y man upon earth — to those who have most opposed and slandered me.' '' To the Rev. S. B. Mathews, then Curate of Stone, now of Aston Sanford, and Secretary to a neighbouring Bible Society, he said, with great energy : ' Count it an honour, without recompence or reward, in the midst of frowns and opposition, to preach the unsearchable riches of Christ to poor sinners ; to help to send his word all over the earth, by sea and land. None but Jesus can do %ts good : nor can we do any good to others but by him. — 1 have suffered more this fortnight than in all my se- venty-four years : and Christ has appeared to me a hun- dred, yea a thousand times, if possible, more precious and glorious than ever : sin, more hateful and evil ; sal- vation, more to he desired and valued. — Christ is all — the love of Christ — the power of Christ. To me to live is Christ ; and to die, I hope, will be gain. — More than all in thee, I find. I have found more in him, than I ever expected to want.^ " To his daughter : ' I used about this time in the evening to pray for you all : but I have no power now : hardly any to pray for himself. You must pray for me.' Then, ^ Let me look to Christ to intercede for me. — 1 have not quite failed to improve the privilege of access 612 HIS LAST ILLNESS, [ChAP. XVI. to God by Christ — of his intercession : but I have not availed myself of it as I ought. I hope you will all value and improve this inestimable privilege/' — ' All depends on faith. Lord, give me faith! — the precious faith of God's elect ! Pray for me, that I may have faith — hope- — love — Till faith is sweetly lost in sight, And hope in full supreme delight, And everlasting love ! • — ^ God bless your poor afilicted father-in-law ! He, per- haps, will not be here long. God spare him, if it be his will ! But may he, too, have \h^ precious faith of God^s elect ! May his partner be blessed, supported, and sanc- tified V " To his wife : ' God be your father, and your husband ! I trust all mine will be kind to you. You have been a great blessing to me. We shall, I trust, meet in heaven. I have less doubt of you, than of myself.' " A message was communicated to him from his highly esteemed friend the Rev. Daniel Wilson, expressive, among other things, of the great benefit he had been to the church of Christ. ' Now this,' said he, ' is doing mc harm. God. be merciful to mc a sinner , is the only ground on which I can rest. The last time I spoke to the peo- ple, it was on those words, and I applied them to myself: Be merciful to me a sinner — the sinner — the chief of sinners. If I am saved, God shall have all the glory.' ^' A striking scene took place this evening, (March 23d,) with one of his poor parishioners, which shewed his anx- ious care of his flock, and his clear recollection of the character and peculiar circumstances of the individuals. After advising him on his situation and conduct, ' Christ,' he observed, ^ is all. the world is nothing. Had I the 1^^1-3 AND DEATH. 5^,'^ property of , or a hundred times more, now that I lie here, what would it be worth ? not a bubble of water. Seek to win Christ. Give up every thing — every thing but duty, to avoid contention. — I have often prayed for you : often since I lay on this bed. Tell your wife to pray for me : she, at least, owes 7nueh to me. — I have often prayed for you all: particularly when I thought you were praying for me.' " ' At any rate, I have been ^ plain man. The hy- pocrite— the formalist — will not pray always. I have always resolved to enter eternity praying, Lord save me ! JVow the time is come.' " He had talked too much, and became too agitated and distressed ; but regained calmness in the night, and had some sleep. He said to his youngest son, who sat up with him, ^ What is the world, and the glory of it ? I would not change my hope, lean and meagre as it is, for all the kingdoms of the world and the glory of them, were I sure of living a thousand years longer to enjoy them.' " Through the greater part of Saturday (March 24,) he was calm, though often gloomy. It was delightful to sit by him : he talked much to himself, and prayed in a low voice. The presence of one of us did not disturb him^ while it was highly edifying and consoling to us. — In the afternoon he was shaved : and, on my asking him, whether it troubled him much, he said, ' Not much :' and alluding to a playful term by which we had been used to describe that operation, he proceeded, ' Oil that the Lord would beautify me with salvation ! He loill beautify the meek ivith salvation. (Psal. cxlix. 4. ) That would be a beautifying.'— As I sat by him in the evening he said, ^ You love and pity me ; but that will do me little good. Your love and pity aVe beautiful, as far as 3 T 514 Mlh LAST ILLNESS, [ClIAP. XVI. they go : oh liow beautiful are the love and pity of the Saviour /' '' I asked him on Sunday afternoon, whether I should stay from church with him. ' Oh no,' he replied : ' no- thing gives me pleasure but what is for your good ; and the thought that you pray for me.' ^* Monday March 26. To his servant : ' I thank you for all your kindness to me. You have been a faithful domestic, and I hope a conscientious one. If at any time I have been hasty and sharp, forgive me, and pray to God to forgive me : but lay the blame upon me, not upon re- ligion.' " ' For one thing I rejoice — that I am not one of the Carlile party ; nor of the Humes and Rousseaus ; nor of the open profligates ; nor of the Pelagians, the self-justi- Hers. I might have been : I have done enough to provoke God to give me up.' ^' ' May Christ be unto me loisdom^ and righteousness, and justification ayid redemption,'^ — he corrected himself ^ sanctifi cation and redemption .-' and added, ' Lord let me have all, though I should forget to ask aright !' " After mentioning his acute sufferings, such, he said, as he had previously no conception of, he added : ' If my continuance here in them could be of the least spiritual benefit to any one, I should be willing to wait.' '^ On taking some refreshment : ' When / do not like any thing, I leave it ; but the Saviour, though the cup was so bitter, did not leave it till he could say, ' It is finished^* ^' ' I know not how it is, I repent and believe : I think I am sure I do, but I do not obtain the clear sense of par- don. There seems a great gulf fixed, which I cannot pass.' My mother answered, ' It is disease.' ' Yes,' he said, ^the e^er^ of disease' ^^ He expressed his fear that his death would occasioH 1821.] AND DEATH. 515 a season of temptation to his people ; that the congregation would very probably be dispersed, in various directions ; and then observed — ' It is just eighteen years since I came hither. I was mwch fiercer this day eighteen years, when taking leave of the people at the Lock' — alluding to the common language of this part of the country, which de- scribes good health and spirits by the term fierceness. I seemed a little surprised ; and he said, ' Do not you re- member that I preached my farewell sermons at the Lock on the 26th of March ?' '' Afterwards : ' I have not that comfort I could wish: but I think my mind is made up to bear quietly whatever God may please to send me, however uncomfortable even to the end, if it be for his glory.' '^ On Tuesday morning (March 27th,) he appeared dying, and suffered exquisitely. ' Oh,' he said, ^ it is hard work. Death is a new acquaintance : a terrible one, except as Christ giveth us the victory, and the assicrance of it. My flesh and my heart seem as if they nmnted to fail, and could not. Who can tell what that tie is which binds body and soul together ? How easily is it loosened in some ; what a wrench and tear is it in others. Lord, loosen it, if it be thy will ! — I hope it is not wrong to pray for a release. If it be, God forgive me ! Yet, if it be thy will that I should wait for days and weeks, Thou art righteous,^ '' Some refreshment was brought him, which he did not feel willing to take. He asked what was to be the effect of it, and seemed to fear being stupified. He was told it was only to make him more comfortable. ' That,' he replied, ' is death's work, or rather Christ's work by death : but I will do as I am bid. In my circumstances, to do as man bids me in these things is the best way of do- ing what God bids mc.' 316 HIS LAST ILLNESS, [ChAP. XVI. '^ He is continually repeating texts of scripture and verses of hymns. — His tender aflection for us all is as- tonishing in such a state of extreme suffering and cuts us to the heart. On seeing my mother come in, he cried, ' Here comes another sufferer. Lord, thou art he that comfortest those that mourn : comfort her — support her ! Be thou the husband of the widow V ^' He expressed his fear lest seeing him suffer so dread- fully should do us harm, and make us fear death in a way we ought not to do. — Still his desire for the promotion of the glory of God is the uppermost feeling in his mind. Father, glorify thy name, is his frequent language.— His deep humility — the simplicity of his faith in Christ — his hatred of sin — his spirituality of mind — his meek- ness, gentleness, and love, strike us all with admiration. He indeed receives the kingdom of God as a little child. The very way in which he mentions the name of the Sa- viour, it is delightful to hear. He seems as much like him, as one can conceive any thing on earth to be : but his desires after holiness are such as will never be satisfied till he awakes in his likeness. " ' 0 Lord, magnify in me thy glory : — thy justice — thy hatred of sin — thy love — thy truth — thy pity : — and then take me to thyself !' — ^The way is dark and deep ; but His way was much deeper (rougher) And darker than mine : Did Jesus thus suffer, And shall I repine V these were some of his sentences. — Again : * If I were what I ought to be, I should be willing to live in this state six months, if it might be of any spiritual use to the worst infidel.' Mr. D. said, ^ You know our Saviour pl'ayed, If it be possible, let this cup pass from me: so 1^21-] AND DEATH, 517 that it cannot he wrong to shrink from suffering.^ ' No/ he replied, ^ I do not think that it is all wrong. But I leave it in the hands of a Saviour, who is infinite in wis- dom, power, and love : and I pray for patience.— I hope, but I cannot but feel some/ear .• and it is such an eternal risk, of such infinite importance, that the slightest fear seems to counterbalance even prevalent hope.' '' Through the whole of Tuesday afternooon he was calm, and talked delightfully. He seemed to unite the cheerfulness, clearness of thought, and force of argument, of his former days, with the extraordinary tenderness, hu- mility, meekness, and love of his present situation. — On his second son's entering the room, he said to him — Who am also an elder , and a ivitness of the sufferings of C/u'isty and a pai^taker of the glory that shall he revealed: Feed the flock of God that is among you, <^c. ; (1 Pet. v. 1 — 4.) and proceeded to converse in a most interesting manner about his own past ministry. He had a blessed conscious- ness of having been faithful, which was a source of grat- itude to him. •' To his grandson : ' God bless you ! I have often preached to you, and sometimes talked to you ; but I have prayed for you a hundred times more. Seek and serve God. Religion is all that is valuable. You may think it does little for me now ; but it is all. May you be a blessing to your parents, to your brothers and sis- ters. You are the eldest : should you outlive your fa- ther, be a father to the rest. I have always particularly wished you might be a minister of Christ : but this I must leave. God's will be done !' '' On another occasion : ' God bless you and make you a blessing to your father, mother, brothers, sisters, cousins, the pupils, schools, poor, and, if it might be, te his church ."—And yet again : ' Once more, my dcai' ."ilS HIS LAST ILLNESS, [ChAP. XVI. grandson, Ood bless you, and make you a blessing to your father, and your dear, dear mother, your brothers and sisters — a large blessing. Be ambitious, if I may so speak, to be useful. I have often prayed for you : pity mr, and pray for 7ne. You see me a great sufferer : but oh think not worse of Christ, or worse of religion, for that. Think worse of si7i : none suffer but sinners.' — He again blessed him with great affection, adding, * The angel that redeemed me from all evil bless the lads ! — you, your brothers, and all your cousins, &c. &c.' '' One thing is not to be forgotten concerning these benedictions which he continued to pronounce upon his grandson, that, though he much longed that he should be a minister, he yet solemnly warned him not to take the sacred office upon him, unless he was conscious of a heart devoted to the work of it. * Rather,' said he, ' make forks and rakes, rather plough the ground and thresh the corn, than be an indolent ungodly clergyman.' ^^ He begged his curate to forgive him if he had been occasionally rough and sharp. ' I meant it for your good : but, like every thing of mine, it was mixed with sin. — Impute it not, however, to my religion, but to my want of more religion.' ^^ To his nephew, the Rev. Thomas Webster, (who came this evening,) he said : ' Hate sin more — Love Christ more — pray more earnestly. — Beware of covet- ousness. — Your College feasts are sad things : — Avoid animal indulgences, if you would lie easy on a dying bed.' ^' He slept much in the evening ; but almost always awoke praying. Once he said, ' Change this vile body of fmmiliationy that it may be like thy glorified body^ 0 Saviour ! but above all, let me have thy glorious holi- ness both of body and soul!' — ' How varying are my 1^^1'J AND DEATH. 5^4^ feelings ! But the great event cannot depend on what passes in a few half- delirious days. No, my hope rests on a better foundation : it depends on my receiving the reconciliation^-'on my being found in Christ— made the righteousness of God in him. Oh for faith— /a?7/4 that worheth by love—purifieth the heart-^^vercometh the worlds — He repeated many texts, verses of hymns, ^c. among them, with great emphasis, * I wait for thy salvation, Lord, With strong desires I wait ; My soul, encouraged by thy word, Stands watching at thy gate.' He again repeated his expressions of good will to all, and particularly his prayers for those who had opposed his views of the gospel. '' Wednesday morning, March 28. He has slept a good deal, and is calm and cheerful, though in great suf- fering.— ^This,' he has said, ^ismy last day. Still I have the last struggle to pass, and what that is, what that lorench is, who can tell me ? Lord, give me patience, fortitude, holy courage ! — I have heard persons treat almost with ridicule the expression, Pu.t underneath me the everlasting arms /f But it is exactly what I want — everlasting arms to raise me up ; to be strengthened with might by his Spirit in the inner man, — I am in full possession of all my faculties : I know I am dying : I feel the immense, the infinite importance of the crisis : Lord Jesus rceive my spirit ! Thou art ^all I want :' ' JVane but Jesus can do helpless sinners good.' — Blessed be God there is one Saviour, though but one in the whole uni- verse : and * Rom. V. 11. Gr. f Dent, xxxiii. 27. '>'^0 HIS LAST ILLNESS, [ChAP. XVI. His love is as ^rcat as his power And neither knows measure nor end. 'Tis Jesus the first and the last Whose Spirit shall guide us safe home : We'll praise him for all that is past, And trust him for all that's to come. — Had any other done wliat Christ has for us — raised us from such a deplorable, lost, wicked state — shed his blood for us — sent his Spirit to quicken us ; would he not be greatly affronted if we were to doubt his perfecting his own work ? And yet we are apt to doubt Christ's love. God forgive us that, with all the rest of our offences ! — He that spared not his own son^ but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not^ ivith hiin^ also freely give us all things P Sin my worst enemy before — Ah ! infinitely the worst ! Sin my worst enemy before Shall vex my eyes and ears no more : My inward foes shall all be slain, Nor Satan break my peace again V *'• While w^e were at family worship, he prayed aloud the whole time, and with his usual minuteness of inter- cession— for his family (naming the particular branches,) - — his parish — the young — his benefactors — his enc7nies — his country — prisoners — various different classes of sin- ners— enlarging his views and petitions to every part of the world. ^^ He wished again to receive the holy sacrament, if it was judged proper. ^ I mean it not,' he said,- ' as a form, but as means of grace, appointed by the Saviour.' After receiving it, he was much exhausted, and said but 1821.] AND DEATH. 521 little. On awaking from sleep after some time, he said, ^ We have had, I think, a sacrament of love : no resent- ment, no ill-will, no heart-burnings ; all good- will, all love of God and of one another for Christ's sake.' " March 28. He again blessed bis grandson with great affection, and said, ^I cannot say as Christ did, My peace I give unto you : I cannot wish efficaciously^ only benev- olently : but I mean what I say ; and that is not what you will find many do in this world. It is a very insincere world ; and a man who always means what he speaks is not a common character : but he is often thought an im- pleasant man, — as I have been.' " He is so gentle and loving, it is so delightful to at- tend upon him, that the servants, finding themselves in danger of contention which should wait upon him with refreshments, &c., agreed together to take it by turns, that each might have her due share of the pleasure and benefit. And yet he is continually begging our forgive- ness for his impatience and want of thankfulness, and en- treating our prayers that God mav forgive him. " ' Our light affiiction, which is but for a moment^ ivorkethfor us afar more exceeding and eternal weight of glory, — light compared with what sin deserves — with what the damned endure — with what the Saviour suffer- ed.'— He went through the whole passage, commenting on every expression but was not distinctly audible. " To one of his servants : ' Pray for me : I value your prayers ; and that not a whit the less because you are a servant. I have often prayed for you, and I trust that blessings have come upon you in consequence : Pray for me, that, through your prayers, thanksgivings may re- dound unto God.' " ' Our happiness here, little as it is, consists in hun- gering and thirsting, (Matt. v. 6.) but there we shall 3U 522 HIS LAST ILLNESS, [ChAP. XVI. hunger no m^re^ neitlur thirst any inore, — Now he is satisfied : JVow he is comforted? (Luke xvi. 25.) '^ He often checks Ins anxious desire to depart, and prays to he enaljlcd to wait patiently — ' that patience may have her perfect work.^ Yet he dreads the last un- known agony. He speaks of it as the effect of sin, and therefore terrible. " In great suffering in the evening, he exclaimed, ' 0 death, when wilt thou com€ and finish this ? Thou an- swerest, When God sends me. — Grant me patience, mer- ciful God !' — He then remarked on this : ^ This is almost like praying to death. How much tendency is there to such random stuff among protestants, as well as among pa- pists, when the mind is excited.' '* He now received intelligence, with great pleasure and gratitude, of the birth of another grand-daughter, and some time after said, ' I have twenty one grand-children ; the Lord bless them with all spiritual blessings, and make them blessings, large blessings in their families — to the church — and to the world. — The God which fed me all my life long bless them ! It matters little what their sta- tion here is — even if servants, like Jacob : — the angel which redeemed me from all evil bless them! Only re- deem them from all evil — from sin — from guilt — from the devil — from this present evil world — and bring them to everlasting glory !' '' Thursday morning, March 29. On my entering the room — ' Again we meet once more. Oh how long will this last ? I feel as if 1 could not die. What need have I of patience and submission ? ' — It was suggested that he was kept here to do us good. * Oh,' said he, < my sel- fishness ! I feel it difficult to be willing to stay, even if it were so. But I do so fear doing you harm : being car- ried away, in great suffering, by any sudden temptation, ^^^^•3 AND DEATH. 523 to say or do what may injure you.— But I leave this ; and commit myself to the care of the merciful Saviour.' ^^ He continually dwells on the sacramental service, and repeats passages from it, particularly that prayer, ^ that we may be full-filled with thy grace and heavenly benediction.' '' Referring to his death, he said : < I hope my family have too much good sense to make a raree-shew of my funeral, either as respects the manner, or the place, or the tomb-stone, or any inscription upon it. Hath death its fopperies ! — I should wish every thing to be merely decorous — below j&«r — indeed considerably below par to what is usual on such occasions. If it be judged quite es- sential for a parson to lie within the church-walls, I will not put such a negative upon it as would be distressing to survivors, though I think the dirtiest hole good enough. Whoever is paid, I wish the men who carry me to that long home to be amply remunerated. There is a long document which I wrote some years ago — a sort of coun- terpart to the Force of Truth ; I do not wish any use to be made of it, but perhaps it may prevent errors and mis- takes. I want no memoirs nor obituaries.' " On another occasion, he desired that, if any funeral sermon were to be preached for him, it might by all means be on a week-day, not on a Sunday : probably from tenderness for the feelings of neighbouring minis- ters, whose congregations might otherwise be drawn away from them on the occasion. And he intimated that the sentence, God be merciful to mc a sinner, (Luke xviii. 13.) might furnish a very proper text:'' dwell- ing on the word \k^«:ure with opinions and preju- firiuly fixed, and reluctant to admit a humiliating scheme of theology : yet borne on, contrary to his expectations 1821.] AND HABITS. 533 and wishes and worldly interest, by the simple energy of truth. We view him arriving, to his own dismay, at one doctrine after another. We behold him making every step sure as he advances, till he at length works out, by his own diligent, and most anxious investigation of the sacred volume, all the parts of divine truth, which he af- terwards discovered to bethecommon faith of the church of Christ, to be the foundation of all the reformed com- munities, and to be essentially united with every part of divine revelation. He was thus taught the apostolical doctrines of the deep fall and apostacy of man, of his im- potency to any thing spiritually good, the proper atone- ment and satisfaction of Christ, the triunity of persons in the Godhf^ad, regeneration and progressive sanctifica- tion by the Holy Spirit, justification by faith only, and salvation by grace. These great principles he perceiv- ed to be indissolubly connected with repentance unto life, separation from the sinful customs and spirit of the world, self denial and the bearing of reproach for Christ's sake, holy love to God and man, and activity in every good word and work. — Further he learnt to unite both these series of truths with dependence upon Christ for the sup- ply of needful grace, humble trust in his promises for final victory, and an unreserved ascription of all bless- ings to the divine grace. — Lastly, and after some inter- val, he embraced the doctrines reb ting to the secret and merciful will of God in our election in Christ Jesus ; al- though he did not think a belief in these mysterious doc- trines to be indispensable to salvation, nor consider the evidence for them, satisi\ictory as he deemed it, to carry with it that irresistible conviction which had attended his inquiries with respect to those essential and directly vital tri!ths of religion before enumerated. The whole narrative of the change which led to tiic adoption of these 534 CHARACTER, [ChAP. XVII. views of religion, is so honest, and so evidently free from enthusiasm, as to constitute a most striking testimo- ny to the cnicacy of the grace of God. ^' After he had once discovered and embraced in all their fulness and practical application, the chief doctrines of the New Testament, he may truly be said to have kept the faith with undeviating constancy. During forty- five years he continued to teach and write and live in the spirit of those holy principles. What he was with respect to them, in the earliest part of this period, the same he continued in the latest, except as each year added something to his conviction of their truth, and to the maturity of his judgment respecting them. There are few writers in whom consistency is so strikingly observa- ble through so many voluminous works.* He was placed at different periods of his life in many scenes of peculiar difficulty, where the current of opinion within as well as without his own more immediate circle, might have in- duced him to vary or conceal the faith upon some points of impartance; but nothing moved him fro?n his oivii steadfastness. -\ Nor was his scheme of doctrine more apostolical, than his method of publicly expounding and applying it in his sermons and writings. He kept the faith, by ever maintaining a theology, not only pure and or- thodox as to its constituent elements and general charac- ter, but scripturally exact in the arrangement, the pro- portions, the symmetry, the harmony of its several doc- trines, and in the use to which each was, on the proper occasion, applied. In this view, the habit which he had been led to form of studying the scripture for himself, and of diligently comparing all its parts with each other, was of essential service. He was not a man of ordinary mould. * Six volumes quarto, and nine or ten large volumes octavo. t 2 Pel. iii. 17. 1821.] AND HABITS. 535 The humble submission to every part of divine revelation, the abstinance from metaphysical subtilties, the entire re- liance on the inspired doctrine in all its bearings and con- sequences, the candour on points really doubtful or of less vital importance, which are the characteristics of his writings, give them extrordinary value. While, for ex- ample, he firmly believed the essential and vital truths which I before noticed, he held with no less firmness the accountableness of man, the perpetual obligation of the holy law, the necessity of addressing the hearts and con- sciences of sinners, and of using without reserve the com- mands, cautious, and threatenings so copiously employed in the inspired book ; the importance of close inquiries into the detail of private, social, and relative duties, the necessity of pointing out those imperfections of temper or practice, by which a false religion betrays its unsound- ness, and of following out the grand branches of scrip- ture morals into their proper fruits in the regulation of the life. In a word, he entered as fully into the great system of plain means and duties, on the one hand, as of the mysterious doctrines of divine grace on the other. He united the Epistles of St. Paul and St. James. " With such fidelity, we wonder not that he had, like the Apostle before him, to fight a good fight. He was not a man to receive the impression of his age, but give it. On various occasions he thought it incumbent on him to come forward publicly in defence of the faitli of the gospel ; a task in the execution of which the firmest ad- herence to truth, and a candid treatment of his opponents, were ever united with singular knowledge of scripture, with great acuteness of reasoning, and with a simple ho- nesty of purpose and of principle, which it was diflicult for an impartial inquirer to withstand. At the time when he first began to preach the gospel faithfully, he found 536 CHARACTER, [Chap. XVIL many who had habituated themselves to such statemente of the grace and privileges of Christianity? as tended in- sensibly to injure the minds of their hearers, by inducing them to separate the duties of the Bible from itsdoctrin^ s. With such fatal errors he made no compromise. His early writings were chiefly directed against this class of ten<"ts, which, however unintentionally on the part of some who maintained them, verged towards the Antino- mian heresy. At a later period he engaged in a very different service — a contest with the adherents of infide- lity. Towards the close of his days, opinions tending to magnify human merit, and in their effect subversive of the doctrines of divine grace, attracted his notice, and were encountered by him with the same manliness of re- sistance, which in earlier life he had opposed to errors of contrary description. In all these instances few will hesi- tate to allow that he fought a good fight. The preju- dices with which a living controversialist cannot fail to be regarded, must of course be allowed to subside, before a calm judgment can be formed of his merits as a dispu- tant,— or in general as a writer. But, when that period shall arrive, I doubt not that his laborious productions, more especially his masterly reply to the work entitled, ' A Refutation of Calvinism,' will be admitted to rank amongst the soundest theological writings of our age. " In these and other labours he ' finished his course,^ For his attention was not absorbed in his writings. He was a laborious minister in every function of that sacred call- ing, and especially in the more retired walks of it. In the pulpit indeed an asthmatical affection, added to a strong provincial accent, an inattention to style and man- ner, and prolixity, rendered his discourses less attractive than those of many very inferior men ; though even here, such were the richness and originality of his matter, such 1^1.] AND HABITS. 537 his evident acquaintance with scripture, and with the human heart, and such the skill which he evinced as a Christian moralist, that by hearers of attentive and re- flecting minds he was listened to, not only with respect, but with delight. But in visiting the sick, in resolving cases of conscience^ in counselling young ministers, in as- sisting various religious and benevolent institutions, his success was peculiarly great. Indeed, if his exertions as an author were left out of consideration, his other la- bours for forty-five years as the chaplain of a hospital, as a parish priest, and generally as a member of society and of the Christian church, would place him on a level with most pious clergymen, however zealous, diligent, or useful. ^' But his widest and most important field of useful- ness, and that which I have reserved for the last topic in the consideration of his public character, was a commen- tator on the Holy Scriptures. In this he may be truly said to hdiV e Jitiished his course , as well as fought a good fight and kept the faith. It is difficult to form a just estimate of a work on which such an author laboured for thirty-three years. It entitles him of itself to rank at the head of the theologians of his own time, as at once the most laborious and important writer of the day. The capital excellency of this valuable and immense under- taking perhaps consists in the following more closely tlian any other, the fair and adequate meaning of every part of scripture, without regard to the niceties of human sys- tems : it is in every sense of the expression a scriptural comment. It has likewise a further and a strong recom- mendation in its originality. Every part of it is thought out by the author for himself, not borrowed from others. The latter editions indeed are enriched witli brief and va- luable quotations from several writers of credit— but the 538 CHARACTEK, [ChAP. XVll. substance of the work is entirely his own. It is not a com- pilation, it is an original production, in which you have the deliberate judgment of a masculine and independent mind on all the parts of Holy Scripture. Every student will understand the value of such a work. Further, it is the comment of our age, presenting many of the last lights which history casts on the interpretation of pro- phecy, giving several of the remarks which sound cri- ticism has accumulated from the different branches of sacred literature, obviating the chief objections which modern annotators have advanced against some of the distinguishing doctrines of the gospel, and adapting the instructions of scripture to the peculiar circumstances of the times in which we live. I may observe also that the faults of method and style which considerably detract from the merit of some of his other writings, are less apparent here, where he had only to follow the order of thought in the sacred book itself; whilst all his powers and attainments have their full scope. It was the very undertaking which required, less than any other, the q\ialifications which he did not possess, and demanded, more than any other, those in which he excelled. It required matured knowledge of scrip- ture, skill as a textuary, sterling honesty, a finn grasp of truth, unfeigned submission of mind to every part of the inspired records, a holy temper of heart, unpa- ralleled diligence and perseverance : and these were the very characteristics of the man. -When to these particu- lars it is added that he lived to superintend four editions, each enriched with much new and important matter, and had been engaged above three years in a new one, in which for the fifth time he had nearly completed a most laborious revision of the whole work, we must at least allow the extent and importance of the authors exertions. 1821.] AND HABITS. 539 Accordingly the success of the work has been rapidly and steadily increasing from the first, not only in our own country, but wherever the English language is known. It will soon be in the hands of most careful students of the holy volume, whether in the first instance, they agree with the author's chief sentiments or not. Nor is the time distant, when, the passing controversies of the day having been forgotten, this prodigious work will general- ly be confessed in the protestant churches, to be one of the most sound and instructive commentaries produced in our own or any other age. " To these more public labours, I proceed to add the characteristics oi his private life as a Christian, which cor- responded to them, and were indeed, under the divine blessing, their spring and source. All he did as a writer and a minister proceeded from what he was as a humble believer »n Jesus Christ. In this view also, he fought a good fight, finished his course, and kept the faith, " Determination of mind in serving God formed the basis of his character, and gave strength and firmness to every part of it. Whatever else he was, he was most de- cisive in religion. From the time he began in earnest to investigate the doctrines of the Bible for himself, he not only admitted them as true, in proportion as he dis- covered them to be such, but acted upon them, govern- ed his temper and conduct by them, fearlesslv professed them before men, and cheerfully suffered whatever re- proach or difficulties they might occasion. No one could ever mistake him. He always avowed what he consci- entiously believed to be true, whatever others, even his nearest connexions, might think. Timidity, reserve, subterfuge, concealment, ambiguity, love of the world, were not his faults. The manner in which he had slow- ly and reluctantly arrived at truth at first, gave him such 540 CHARACTER^ [ChAP. XVII. an assured confidence that he was right, that nothing af- terwards could turn him aside. The fashionable opinions or practices of the day, the number or station of his op- ponents, the distractions and divisions of parties, the plau- sible appearance of certain errors, the reputation for piety or talent of those who incautiously favoured them, made no difference to him. A pow'erful discriminating judgment, and an intimate acquaintance with every part of scripture, gave such a tone of firmness to his habits of thinking and acting, that he seemed like a giant, taking his course among children^ regardless of their puny oppo- sition, and bent only on the achievement of his own great objects. It must, on the other hand, be owned that he sometimes erred by want of sufficient consideration for the feelings and prejudices of others, and sometimes was betrayed into rudeness and over-confidence — I wish not to conceal his human failings — but these failings he con- stantly opposed, and as he advanced in life almost entirely subdued ; whilst the sterling honesty and determination of his character, the spring of all his usefulness, remained unimpaired. '^ Extraordinary diligence was the handmaid to this capital excellency. He was always at work, always busy, always redeeming time ; yet never in a hurry. His heart Was given up to his pursuits ; he was naturally of a stu- dious turn ; and his labour was his delight. He gradu- ally acquired in a degree beyond most men, the habit of abstracting his mind from sensible objects, and of concen- trating his thoughts on a particular topic ; nor could the distractions inseparable from a hurried journey, or from a walk through the busy scenes of a great city, at all di- vert him on such occasions from the course of thought in which he was engaged. And whenever a subject which he had once studied, was proposed to him, he could im^ 1821. J AND HABITS. 541 mediately fix his mind intently upon it, and recall all the chief arguments by which it was supported. So that he lived, in fact, twice the time that most other students do in the same number of years. To support this he had an iron- strength of constitution. And for five or six and forty years he studied eight or ten hours a day, and fre- quently twelve or fourteen, except when interrupted by sickness. His very relaxations were often equal to the diligence of others. But it was not merely incessant la- bour which distinguished this remarkable man — it was incessant labour directed to important objects. His at- tention was always occupied by his proper work. He was not merely studious, but studious of what was immediately useful. He was not a desultory reader attracted by every novelty, and wasting his time on infei^or topics or authors of less moment ; but a reader of what was solid and ap- propriate and directly subservient to the great subject in hand. From an early age, indeed, he was almost entirely self-taught ; the only education he received having been at a grammer-school, from the age of ten to fifteen. He had no aid afterwards from masters, small means for the purchase of books, and scarcely any access to great col- lections. A few first rate works formed his library, and these he thoroughly mastered. He never remitted his exertions in improving his works. After thirty-three years bestowed on his Comment, he was as assiduous in revising, as he had originally been in composing it. The marginal references cost him seven years of labour. And the interval between the fourth and the present edition was employed in attempting a Concordance on a new plan which he did not live to complete, but which by keeping in exercise that minute acquaintance with Scripture and that aptitude of reference, for which he was distinguished, must have materially assisted him in his last revision. 542 CHAKACTEK, [ChAP. XVII* '^ In his (lompstic circle Ins character was most exem- plary. No blot ever stained hisfiame. A disinterested- ness and unbending integrity in the midst of many diffi- culties so raised him in the esteem of all who knew him, as greatly to honour and recommend the gospel he pro- fessed. He was in all respects an excellent father of a family. What he appeared in his preaching and writings, that he was amongst his children and servants. He did not neglect his private duties on the ground of public en- gagements ; but he carried his religion into his house, and placed before his family the doctrines he taught, em- bodied in his own evident uprightness of conduct. This determination and consistency in personal religion in- structed his children better than a thousand set lessons. It is indeed commonly found that the general behaviour and conversation of parents produce a decidely deeper impression on the minds of the young than any formal instructions, however in themselves excellent. When children are addressed directly, their minds recoil, or at least their attention is apt to flag ; but their own shrewd observations on what they see done or hear said by others, on the estimates which they perceive their parents to form of things and characters, and on the governing princi- ples by which they judge their conduct to be regulated, sink deep into their memories, and in fact constitute by far the most effective part of education. It was on this principle that our deceased friend acted. He did not inculcate certain doctrines merely, or talk against covet- ousness and the love of the world, or insist on the pub- lic duties of the sabbath, or the private ones of the fam- ily, whilst the bent of his conversation was worldly, his tempers selfish, his habits indulgent, and his vanity or ambition manifest under the thin guise of religious phra- seology : but he exhibited to his household a holy and a- 1821.] AND HABITS. 543 iamble pattern of true piety — he was a man of God — ^im- perfect indeed, but consistent and sincere. Accordingly, all his children became, by the divine mercy, his comfort during life, and now remain to call him blessed, and hand down his example to another generation. A spirit of prayer and devotion was, further, a con* spicuous ornament of his character. He lived near to God,^ Intercessory prayer was his delight. He was accustomed in his family- devotions to intercede earnestly for the whole church, for the government of his country, for the ministers of religion, for those preparing for the sacred office, for schools and universities, for the different nations of Christendom, for the heathen and Jews, and for all religious institutions ; varying his supplications as circumstances seemed to. dictate. As he approached the close of life, his deep humility of mind, and his zeal for the glory of his Saviour, were very affecting and edify- ing to those who were present on these occasions. He was the aged saint filled with the love of God and man, and supplicating for the whole human race. More es- pecially, he had for above twenty years been constantly imploring of God that he would open some way for the conversion of the world, as well as the more extensive diffusion of genuine Christianity at home, before he saw any apparent means for the accomplishment of his desires ; and, when the establishment of the Bible and Missionary institutions seemed to afford a prospect of the consumma- tion which he had so fervently desired, his thanksgivings to God abounded. His studious and secluded life by no means produced any indifference as to the active schemes which were formed for the salvation of mankind, nor any undue or unreasonable fastidiousness as to the means em* * Psalm cxlviii. 14. 644 CHARACTER, [ClIAP. XVII. ployed — faults often connected with literary habits — but whenever the end of religious societies was good, and the methods they employed lawful, he prayed most earnestly for their prosperity, and blessed God for their success ; though perhaps in the details of their constitution or pro- ceedings there might be some things which he could not full} approve. Thus were his firmness and energy sof- tened by candour and enlarged benvolence. Hh faith and patience un del" afflictions must not be omitted. Though his constitution in itself was robust, his health was far from being good. An obstinate asthma with exhausting bilious attacks exposed him at times to acute sufferings for more than forty years of his life. In- fiamatory fever succeeded these diseases during the last seven years, aggravated by a malady most inconvenient and alarming. He had moreover, as those who know his private history are well aware, painful mortifications and vexations to endure whilst he resided ^it Olney, and still more severe ones during a large part of the seventeen years which he spent in London. His great work, the Commentary, was also the occasion of almost constant per- plexity, embarrassment, and disappointment for nearly the whole of the first fourteen years of his labours upon it ; so that almost any other person would havere- lincpiished the undertaking in despair. To these must be added a frequent recurrence of severe domestic trials and calamities, often increased by dejection of spirits. Yet his faith and patience bore up under all. Those who observed him in scenes of peculiar difficulty, were often reminded of the words of the royal preacher, the spirit of a man tui If sustain his i7ifirmity.^ This seemed to be the brief history of his life. Perhaps few writers, '^ Prov. xviii. 14. 1821.] AND HABITS. 545 who ultimately attained the esteem and influence of this remarkable man for the last twenty years of his labours, ever reached such an eminence through greater discou- ragements of almost every discription. During the twenty five years preceding that period^ he had experi- enced inconveniences and difficulties in a degree that can scarcely be imagined by any but his intimate friends. " I close this review of his character by noticing the gradual but regular advances ivhich he made in every branch of real godliness, aud especially in overcoming his constitutional failings . This is, after all, the best test of Christian sincerity. A man may profess almost any principles or hold any kind of conduct for a time ; but to continue a self-denying course of consistent and growing piety, to apply the strict rule of the divine law honestly and unreservedly to the whole of our conduct, to cultivate carefully every branch of our duty, to resist and contend against the evil tempers and dispositions to which we are naturallv most prone — and to unite all this with humble trust in the merits of our Saviour, and vvith unfeigned ascription of every thing good in us to His grace and mercy ; this it is that marks a real renovation of heart, and stamps the genuine believer in the gospel of Christ. And such was the individual whoin we are considering. His failings, as I have already intimated, lay on the side of roughness and severity of temper, pride of intellect, and confidence in his own i>owers. But from the time when he first '^oeyed with his wliole heart the truth of the gospeh ne set himself to struggle against these and all other ^vil tendencies, to study sell- controU to aim at those graces which are most diiiicult to nature, and to employ all the motives of the gospel to as- sist him in the contest ; and he gradually so increased in habitual mildness, humility, and tenderness for others, as 3Z 546 CftARACTER, [ChAP. XVll. to become no less exemplary for these virtues, than he had long been for the opposite qualities of religious cou- rage, firmness, and determination. He used to observe, that it was no excuse for a man to allege, that this or that holy temper was not his turn ; for every grace ought to be, and must be, the turn of every sincere Christian. I can most truly say, that d,. ring an acquaintance of about twenty-five years, which gradually matured, on my part, into a filial affection, I scarcely ever saw an instance of more evident growth in real obedience, real love to God and man, real victory over natural infirmities, in a word, real Christian holiness. In the concluding years of his life, he was, as it appeared to me, obviously ripening for heaven. He had fought a good fight, he had finished his coiii'se^ he had kept the faith ; so that at last his gen- uine humility before God, his joy in Christ Jesus, his holy zeal for the difl'usion of the gospel, his tender aflfection to his family and all around him, his resignation to the will of his heavenly Father, and his exclusive trust in the merits and grace of his Saviour, seemed to leave little more to be done, but for the stroke of death to bring him to his grave in a full age, like as a shock of corn cometh in its season P^ To this vig(^rous and animated delineation, I shall now add a few particuV^rs from my own observation and re- flection. What was the class ^f intellectual endowments, that distinguished my revered father, must be obvious to all who are acquainted with his works. Acuteness, com- prehension, close reasoning, judgRient, — these are every where apparent. In that imagination, which might have enlivened and adorned his preaching and writings, he was no doubt deficient. Nor did he advance preten- 1821.] AND HABITS. 547 sions to that boldness and novelty of conception, which bestows the title of genius. Yet his train of thinking was always marked by that degree, at least, of originali- ty which made it fairly his own, and rendered it interest- ing to all who were cempetent to appreciate it, and to compare it with what was current among other writers upon similar subjects. His style was grave and unadorn- ed, but manly, and in general clear and vigorous ; often conveying forcible sentiments in a concise and striking manner : and, as has been intimated in a letter inserted in this work, he was studious to exclude those peculiari- ties of language, which have frequently given needless disgust in religions writings ; though he could never con- sent to scruple the use of scriptural phraseology. — The admirable Henry Martyn has made the following re- mark in his journal, April 26, 1807 : " Began Scott's Essays, and was surprised indeed at the originality and rigour of the sentiments and language.'' Smnd judgment was, equally with vigour and decision^ the characteristic of his mind. It discovers itself in his early days, and it grew in him to the last ; and gave, un- der the diving guidance and teaching, which he so con- stantly supplicated, that steadiness and consistency to his character, conduct, and writings, which Mr. Wilson has celebrated. The unprejudiced observer will, I think, admit it to be very striking to consid-r, at what sound and sober views of scriptural theology he so early arrived; such that he never saw reason ^^fterwards to alter them in any point worthv of notice. And this did not arise from his embracing in totto me system of any set of men : he escaped the errors of tnose whom he joined, as well as renounced those of the class which he had left. Thus, while acknowledgias in the Force ofTr,.th his obliga- tions to the writings of the excellent Mr. Hervey, he still .■)48 CHARACTER, [ClIAP. XVII. avows his disagreement with him upon some points : and late in life he says concerning one for whom he enter- tained a great esteem, " I always thought his writings on the point of religious experience narcotic to those ivithin, and calculated to excite prejudices, and give plausibility to those ivithout/^ No : it was the exercise of a sound, vet humble mind, in the intense mediation of God's tes- tivwnies, which thus made him, in some points, wiser than his teachers. At the close of twenty years, he prefixed to the fifth edition of his Force of Truth a solemn declaration, which lie renewed in every subsequent edition till his death, that " every thing he had experienced, observed, heard, and read, since the first publication of the work, had concurred in establishing his most assured confidence, that the doctrines recommended in it were the grand and dis- tinguishing peculiarities of genuine Christianity." Of the importance of such a declaration we may judge from the following anecdote. " When the Force of Truth first came into my hands,'' said an excellent and learned per- son, " at a time when I did not at all concur in its doc- trines, the first thing which it occurred to me to ask was, ^ What has been the subsequent history of this man? He tells us of one great change : he may have made many more since.' Receiving a satisfactory answer to this in- quiry, I was prepared to pay a more serious attention to his arguments." His great judgment also appeared in his so studiously contemplating the difi^ere^n bearings of his sentiments, and the limitations necessary to be put upon what he ad- vanced, with a view to preclude objections, that, while no one would ever charge him wii\i temporizing, he never drew forth an avowed opponent, except, I think, in one 1821.] AND HABITS. 549 instance, which neither deserved nor obtained the least pubhc attention. The preceding remarks relate to the powers of his un- derstanding : those which follow pertain more to the tem- per of his heart. Mr. Wilson has observed, that " love of the world was not his fault ;'' that " disinterestedness was a feature of his character;'' that he did not ^^talk against covet- ness and the love of the world, while the bent of his con- versation was worldly, and his tempers selfish." This is most true : but it is not all that deserves to be said upon the subject. I must give it as my deliberate judgment, which I think will be sanctioned by the suffrages of those who most closely observed him, that, of all the men I have known, he manifested the most unfeigned and prac- tical belief of those numerous scriptures, which pro- nounce riches dangerous to the welfare and salvation of the soul ; and that, in consequence, acting upon his own favourite maxim, that what is best for the soul is really best for us, he ever looked upon worldly possessions with a jealous eye, for his family as well as for himself. Par- ticularly he deprecated the idea of clergymen aspiring at wealth — meaning by that term much more moderate property than some would understand by it. His sen- tence at the beginning of his religious career will not be forgotten : " We are to live at the altar ; but a living, a bare decent maintenance, without any avaricious or am- bitious views of advancing ourselves or our families, or hankering after indulgences, should content us."* He acted on this principle through life. Subsequently we have heard him declare, that " if a man have faith strong enough^ and urgent occasions call for it, he may perhaps * Letter of July 13, 1775. 550 CHARACTER, [ChAP. XVII. do as well for his family if he expends what he has to spare in judicious charities, as if he lays it hy ;" and again that, ^' in some cases, he should think it right to make a point of disposing in charity of at least as much as was laid by — and this," he adds, '' I call seed-corn.^'^ Yet it should be observed, that he had a great objection, where it could be avoided, to public collections being made for a clergyman's family after his decease. The necessity for this, he thought, should be guarded against by all fair means. Nor should it be supposed, that he in any way reflected upon clergymen who were born to wealth, or on whom providence otherwise conferred it, if only they made a proper use of it. Aspiinng after it was what he condemned. Agreeably to these sentiments, we have seen him ex- pressing a strong disapprobation of ministers encumbering themselves with lucrative acadamies, and losing perhaps the sacred character in that of tutors. He had, if possi- ble, a still stronger aversion to their aiming at rich mar- riages. A marriage with a rich wife is. I believe, what none of his sons would have ventured to propose to him. Few things would have alarmed him more for their safe- ty ; or more grieved him, as a dereliction of the princi- ples with which he had laboured to inspire them. Often have we heard him descant with satisfaction on the case, I think, of Mr. Walker, of Truro, who declined a con- nexion with a lady, in all other respects suitable, because she possessed 10,000/. ! and often mentioned the sarcastic congratulation offered at a visitation by a dignified cler- gyman to an evangelical brother who had married a lady of fortune, '^ Aye, aye, brother , we all aim at the same object, though we have our different ways of attain- * Letter of March 15, 1805. 1821.] AND HABITS. 351 ing it !" Hence, when many years ago two young ladies of large fortune were placed under his care, it was one of his counsels to them, that neither of them should marry a clergyman: "^for," said he, ^^ if he is not a good one, he is not worthy of you ; and^ if he is a good one, you will spoil him." And all that we have been now relating was held, it ghould be observed, and persisted in by one who had felt more than most men the inconveniences arising from the want of money, even as an obstruction to his great and good designs. All this must appear sufficiently extraordinary to those who form their notions from what is current not only in the world, but in the visible church. To " worldly-wise men" it will no doubt even seem extravagant. But so did our Lord's doctrine upon the self-same subject : " The Pharisees also, who were covetous, heard all these things ; and they derided him :" i^»iuvkt>,^,^o», they snuffled at him, in scorn and derision. It cannot be wondered at, if those to whom the rule would appear extravagant, should esteem the practice which is conformable to it to be so : and, inverting the proposition, it may be feared that those who so judge of the practice, would have judged in like manner of the rule, had it not proceeded from an authority to which they are accustomed to defer. Let it not, however, be supposed that while I vindicate, as well as record my father's sentiments, I pretend to have risen to the level of them myself. To describe, and even to approve, is one thing ; to follow, passibus aequis, is another. But is was not only under the form of the love of moneij that he guarded against a worldly spirit : he was equally jealous of it in every shape. The reader will not have forgotten how he rejoiced ivith trembling at a very slight 352 CliARACTEn, [ClIAP. XVII. degree ol* credit obtained by one of bis sons at tbe univer- sity. To tbe same son lie also remarked, that, tbough be did not tell bim so at tbe time, it bad been one object in selecting bis college to send bim wbere be would not be likely to get a lellowsbip. And, tbougb be gave or procured for all bis sons an university education, yet so studiously did be exclude every other view than that of their going forth at once, like himself, as humble parish ])riests, that I believe I may say, they entered upon life almost without having conceived the idea of those niore lucrative and more envied openings which an university may sometimes present. It may not be improper here to add, that, as my father wrote only for usefidness, and neither for gain nor fame, be always puldisbed bis works at as low a price as be could at all afford them, that they might be accessible to tbe bumi)le class of readers. Repeatedly indeed this [)rice turned out to be lower than he could afford. Once, in a letter, he renjarks concerning his Bible, as a matter of calculation, '' I find that my five pound book would make fifty of 's ten shillings' book :'' yet the book in nue.>iion w^as not one of tbe dearest specimens we have seen. Without, however, wishing to reduce others to bis ov. II standard in this respect, be certainly felt a de- gr.^e 01 disgust when be saw tbe desire of money-get- ting so evidently stamped upon religious publications, calculated for general instuction, as to confine their utility to those who could pay somewhat extravagantly for it. In a man acting upon such principles, muchlibeivdity in his dealings, and an ample charity in proj)ortion to bis cir- cumstances, would naturally be expected : nor would the expectation be disappointed by the fact. Towards ser- vants, labourers, and tbe poor, be always acted in the 3821.] AND HABITS. 553 most kind and even bountiful manner. He expressed his approbation of Mr. Berridge's advice, who said to coun- try clergymen, " Keep a barrel of ale in your house, and when a man comes to you with a message, or on other business, give him some refreshment, that his ears may be more open to your religious instructions." It was always likewise his maxim, that we ought to support during sickness, or when worn down with age, those of whose services we had the benefit during their health and strength. Hence at his death he bequeathed, out of the little property he had to leave, an annuity of 12/. to one who had spent above thirty years in his service ; though she had eventually married from him. On one particular mode of his charities (an instance of which has indeed come under our notice,) we may again hear the lady, to whom we were indebted for the account of his Sunday labours. " One more particular," she says, ^' I liave to note, which always gave me pleasure, as prov- ing the union of judgment and benevolence, namely, the cases of , and , and others. Circumstauqes not allowing of unassisted pecuniary relief, your good father and mother received into their house, while others con- tributed to their support, those who would otherwise have pined in solitude and neglect : an example I should like to see imitated in the habitations of many pious per- sons, as a means of doing more extensive good, than many expensive institutions. And it can scarcely be doubted, that the prayers of those, so favoured, have had their share in drawing down the blessings which have descended on the family." But, indeed, in all his pecuniary transactions, while he guarded against profusion, there was a certain ^^ lai'geness of heart"* about him, which highly adorned his profes- * I King^s iv. 29. 4A 354 CIIAKACTER, [ClIAP. XVIL sion. JVhat is that heticirt me and thee P^ was a sen- tence frefnuiitly in his mouth, wherever small matters were concerned. And in this connexion the testimony borne soon aft( r his decease, by the farmer from whom he received all his income as rector of Aston, may be quoted as of much weight : ^^ Never," said he, '' was there any thing mean, little, or selfish, about Mr. Scott.'' In all respects he was a man of a remarkably open tem- per : and, though this might occasionally produce him some uneasiness, he always thought such a turn of mind, accompanied by a tolerable share of prudence, carried a person through more difficulties than it created him. Another particular to which I would a little further advert is, his close adherence to the scriptures ; his con- stant recurrence not only to their instructions, for the determination of important questions of truth and duty, but to their example, as the best standard even upon very inferior points. Perhaps the more insignificant the instance I give, the more effectually may it illustrate what I state concerning the extent to which this practice was carried. On this ground I mention the following. He once took a momentary prejudice against a writer's speaking of himscU'in the ]>lural number, rather than simply using the pronoun /.* and I was somewhat amused to find him immediately trying his sentiment by scriptural usage.. ^^ How," said he, ^* do the inspired writers speak?" Their sanction of the practice objected to, I presume, satisfied his mind ; as no more was heard of the objection; nor is it, probably, remembered by any one but myself. Not only his general benevolence, but his catholic spi- rit towards all pious Christians, however separated from hi;n in unessential things, deserves particularly to be >* Gen. xxiii. 15. See the chapter throughout. 1821.] AND HABITS. 55b commemorated. This was manifested in the fervency of his prayers for them ; in his readiness, wherever he could with propriety do it, to second their efforts to do good; in his cordial joy in their success, and sympathy in their disappointments ; and in the habits of intimate friend- ship, and, as we have seen, of confidential correspond- ence, in which he lived, with some, from whom he dif- fered on points which he did not think unimportant. He could avow his sentiments, and allow them to avow theirs, where they disagreed, and yet could love them as brethren, united in far greater things than those which divided them. Accordingly the following lines were, soon after his death, applied to him, in print, by a neighbouring Baptist min- ister, of whom he had not scrupled sometimes to com- plain, as making injurious inroads upon his flock : " To sect or party his large soul Disdain'd to be confined ; The good he loved of every name, And prayed for all mankind." And here I may be allowed to say a few words con- cerning his Calvinism. May I not be bold to appeal to great numbers, whether they must not admit the subject of these memoirs to have been a very different character, as to morals, temper, the practical nature of his views of Christianity, concern for the salvation of all mankind, and his whole manner oi addressing men, in order to the pro- motion of their salvation, from what they are ready to suppose a decided Calvinist must be ? Where will they find greater benevolence, greater strictness, and greater exertion, than have been here exhibited to them ? Will they admit the fact, but contend that all this was a happy inconsistency with the principles which my lather had embraced ? He himself, at least, steadily maintained the 356 CHARACTER, [ClIAP. XVII. contrary, and afTirnicdthat liis principles naturally ten- ded to a much higher dei^ree of universal goodness, thau he could ever give himself credit for having attained : and it is certain, that all his more distinguished brethren, who shared with him the reproach of Calvinism, such as Newton, Henry Venn, Robinson, Cecil, Milner, Richard- son, and many others — concurred in this conviction of the practical tendency of their doctrines, — which they all likewise exemplified, in their own lives and conversation, in a manner not likely to be soon surpassed. — To what end then do I direct these observations? to the promo- tion of Calvanism properly so called ? No : but to evince that Calvinists are not necessarily so far removed from all that is Christian, as some persons seem ready to suppose they must be. For myself, I confess that I am little disposed eagerly to contend for any peculiarities of Calvin's creed : but of one thing I feel perfectly sure, that the sentiments of antipathy, involving apparently a mixture of aversion and contempt,* vvhich are sometimes expressed for per- sons holding Calvinistic sentiments, can only reflect dis- grace on those who cherish them. — Many speak and write as if the admission of such doctrines were the re- sult of predilection, and arose from some malignity to- wards the great mass of mankind, inherent in the breast. Those who embrace them stand, by the very fact of hav- ing received them, (like the primitive Christians,) odio humani generis convicti. But nothing can be a great- er violation of all justice than thus to treat men, who shew the greatest benevolence and practical charity to- wards their fellow creatures ; who, many of them, (like the subject of this work,) long stood out against the ad- mission of the obnoxious tenets in question, and never admitted them till compelled to do so, contrary to all their 1821.] AND HABITS. 557 apparent interests, by submission to what they at least conceived to be the paramount authority of God's word ;' and who themselves have often felt more keenly, it is to be apprehended, than those who most bitterly censure them ever did, the painful reflections which some of their principles appear calculated to excite. — But the fact is, many of the best and greatest men of our own church, and of other establishments, through successive ages, have avowed the doctrines which are now made the ground of so much reproach; and could many ilhis- trious worthies, who in former times filled the highest dignities of our church w^ith the greatest honour, now return upon earth, they must, according to certain mo- dern regulations, (hitherto indeed but partially adopted,) be rejected even from the humblest curacies ! But I forbear — and, quitting the general subject of my father's character, proceed to mention some of the habits of his life. It may be interesting to some persons to know his usual mode of spending his time, when exposed to no pe- culiar interruptions. Unlike most men who have accomplished great things in life, he was never, till quite his latt^^r years, an early riser. This, indeed, might be sufficiently accounted for, by the disturbed nights which he often passed, owing to his asthmatic complaint. He usually rose about seven, and retired to rest about eleven o'clock. But during some late years he rose frequently between five and six. At these times he often spent three hours alone in his study before breakfast. His seasons of private devotion were always, I believe, immediately after rising, and again from eight to nine o'clock in the evening. There were times also in which he had periods of retirement in the middle of the day : and occasionally he observed days of fasting and more special devotion. 558 CHAUACTLK. [ChAP. XVII. After breakfast followed his family exposition and worship, which often occupied three quarters of an hour, or even still more time. He next, while he had mission- aries or other pupils under his care, applied himself to their instruction : and then pursued his own studies till near the hour of dinner. His time for exercise and for ma- king his pastoral visits was generally the afternoon. For some years his chief exercise was the cultivation of his garden ; but latterly, from the necessity of a recumbent posture, m\ich of the time which he had been used to give to this employment was passed upon his bed. — After tea he was again occupied in his study till the hour for family worship arrived : after which a light supper, followed by a little conversation, closed the day. He was, as Mr. Wilson has observed, " always em- ployed, but never in a hurry." His method of '^ glean- ing,'' as he termed it, by always having a book at hand for sj)are ])ortions of time, he himself has described and recommended in a letter which has been inserted. But he gleaned by conversation with all who came in his way, upon such subjects as they understood, as well as from books. He thought it of much advantage to a clergy- man to understand common affairs, particularly those con- nected with the employments of his people. " When they saw that he understood things belonging to their profession, it would make them,'' he said, ** give him credit for more competency to instruct them in what pertained to his own.'' — Indeed his active mind employ- ed itself vigorouously upon all subjects which came be- fore it ; and particularly upon the passing events of the world, as they affected the interests of the Christian church, or of his country, and the consequent duties of himself and his people. Till his spirits had been completely worn down by la- 1821. J AND HABITS. 559 hours and infirmities, he possessed great cheerfulness and vivacity ; which especially displayed themselves in times of sickness. — He was a man of much conversation. All his studies and pursuits were talked over with his fami- ly. He was indeed always and every where iaaaruo^f '' apt to teach :* we might even be ready to term him, as St. Paul was termed, o-^r.^^oAo^of, f if that word may be taken, as our version appears to take it, for one who scat- ters his words, like seed, all around him. In confirmation of this the scenes of the Margate packets may be recalled to my mind. I will mention also another incident which re- called, though it may appear trivial, will illustrate my po- sition, and his character. — In one of my journeys to Aston, I took with me, as nurse-maid, a young woman of but slender capacity, though I hope of good principles; audit amused and interested me to learn that this poor girl, when charged with the care of a young child, could find no way of passing her time so agreeably, as in standing or walking about near m'y father, while he worked in his gar- den. He so explained to her his various operations, and the intended result of them, with appropriate observations, that her attention was quite engaged. And by means resembling this it was, that his domestics gradually ac- quired a degree of information, which made them appear enlightened persons in comparison with what is generally found in that rank of life. And hence too it was, as well as for the great spiritual benefit which most of them de- rived from his instructions, that, without contracting any disrespectful familiarity, they became attached to him in a very uncommon degree. In this connexion I may mention what has left a plea- sing and aff'ecting impression upon my memory from my * 1 Tim. iii. 2. 5 Tim. ii. 24. t Acts xvii. 18. .H)0 CHAUACTEK^ [ChAP. XVII. early days. His returns from visiting his late flock at Ra- vcnstone, when he lived atOlney, were always interesting occasions, while he talked over with my mother all that he had observed in their state. At these times, I sup- pose from sympathy with his hopes and fears, his jovsand sorrows respecting them, it was very gratifying to me to stand by, a silent listener to the conversation. In like manner tlie peculiar piety, cheerfulness, and affection which marked the discourse that took place on a Sunday evening, (notwithstanding the very discourag- ing circumstances against which my father so often had to contend,) early made a strong impression upon my mind of the Jiappiness of true religion. Generally I may say, that my father was very strict ahout the observance of the sabbath in his family. All domestic work, that could be anticipated, was done th'' evening before : and cooking on the Sunday was avoided, that the whole family, if not otherwise prevented, might attend public worship. Yet, as may be collected from the fact just related, his piety was cheerful as well as strict. " Improv'd and soften'd by the day, All thing-s another aspect wore." In one respect a deficiency may have been felt in these memoirs — my father never, I believe, at least never since a very early period, wrote any private papers, relative to what passed in his own mind. Pious persons have differed in judgment upon this practice. His judgment was not against it : but it was not his habit. Nor has he left any writings beyond what are now printed, which can be communicated to the public — unless it be addi- tional letters in the hands of Ins friends. — At the same time that I make this remark. I may be permitted toob- 1821.] AND HABITS. 561 serve that he much deprecated the publication of sucli letters, unless (what he apprehended might not be attain- able,) they could be previously submitted to persons in whose judgment he could confide. He thought that the memory of many good men had been injured by such pub- lications.*— I confess it is with some trepidation, as to what might have been his own judgment upon the sub- ject, that I now lay so much of his private correspondence before the public : but all, I persuade myself, will feel that I have given them much that is truly valuable : and, under the sanction and authority which death has added to his character, he may now speak some things publicly, which perhaps propriety or expediency required that he should before say only in private to his friends. If I have in any important instance exceeded that moderate licence which this consideaation would allow, there is nothing for which I should feel more unfeigned regret. I gladly avail myself of the permission to annex, to this review of my honoured father's character an manner, of life, the testimony of two friends, the competency of whose judgment none will call in question, and who will be free from that suspicion of undue partiality which much necessarily attach to myself. The first of the following letters was addressed to me when I announced the event which had just taken place at Aston Sandford. '^ Golden Square, April 20, 1821 . My dear s,r, The mournful event, which you were pleased to communicate to me, excited less surprise than concern, as Mr. VVeb- * See his Practical Observations on Deut. xxxiy. 4 B 563 CHARACTER, [GhAP. XVIL ster had prepared nie to expect an unfavourable termi- nation of your pious and excellent fathers illness. Al- though his departure has been delayed to a good old age, and he was cut down as a shock of corn fully ripe ; yet the loss of him must be painfully felt by all who had the advantage of knowing him, and who knew how to esteem and love him for his work's sake. The church is de- prived of an able and useful minister, who has long been a burning and a shining light in the midst of her : his people have lost a faithful and laborious pastor, whose zeal, diligence, and serious concern for their eternal in- terests, will never be surpassed : his friends have lost a wise, upright, disinterested, and affectionate counsellor, on whose judgment and integrity they could always rely : and his family have lost all that can be comprised in a great, good, kind, and tender relative. His works will long live to praise him here, and, through the divine blessing, may be instrumental in adding to his felicity, and increasing the glory with which the Redeemer has already crowned his aged and laborious servant. '' You, my dear sir, can better exemplify, than I can express, the duties of faith, and patience, and meek sub- mission, which are required by tljis afllictive dispensation of the divine providence. May it please God to commu- nicate that support and consolation, which will enable you to comfoi't those around you ! Above all, may you have grace to persevere in the path by which your now bless- ed father has ascended into the mansions of perfection and happiness, and abundantly supply the loss which the world has sustained, by receiving a double portion of his spirit ! . . • '' The friends of my youth, and of my mature age, are now few in number ; and every year deprives me of some to whom 1 was tenderly united. Their departure warns 1821.] AND HABITS. 563 me that my own is advancing rapidly upon me. Pray for me^ my dear sir, that /may obtain mercy of the Lord in that day. — I am, my dear sir, with great respect and regard, truly and affectionately yours, John Pearson.'* ^' The Rev, John Scott, Aston Sanford.^^ The other excellent and distinguished friend of my fa- ther, when I informed him of the work in which I was en- gaged, most kindly proposed, of his own accord, '^ pub- licly to declare the unfeigned respect he felt for him,'^ which, he said, he should have " real pleasure in doing :'' and, when the occasion called for it, he favoured me with the following highly gratifying letter : *'^ Harden Park, 16th April, 1822. — My dear sir, It was with no little pleasure that I heard that you were about to publish an account of the life of your late excel- lent father, together with many of his letters. The life of a minister of the gospel is not indeed likely to abound in those incidents which might render it interesting to ordinary readers ; but to those who read for moral im- provement, or still more, with a view to Christian edifi- cation, the life of your late father cannot but be eminent- ly attractive. The labours of his pen, blessed be God, have been so widely circulated as entirely to supersede the necessity of any other testimony to the superiority of his intellectual powers, or to the soundness and extent of his religious wisdom. To the still higher praise of hav- ing exhibited and illustrated in his life and conversation the religious principles which he professed, you would yourself bear abundant testimony. But the eulogium of a son may be not unreasonably suspected of partiality : from that suspicion my favourable testimony will be free. It is not much however that I am able to state : not at 564 CHARACTER, [Chap. XVIL least so niiicli as the general impression on my mind of your f^Uher's character had led me to anticipate. The uniform discharge of the most important duties, the daily exercise of the Christian tempers, though they just- ly secure respect and engage aflection, supply, even to a biographer, little that is substantive or specific : yet for the gratification of my own feelings, if not for the illus- tration, still less for the accrediting, of his character, per- mit me to state the decisive judgpient of his intellectual and moral qualities, which an acquaintance of five and thirty years' duration had enabled me to form. *' It was in the winter of 1785-6 that the late Mr. Newton informed me that the Rev. Mr. Scott, a clergy- man of a very superior understanding and of eminent piety, more peculiarly remarkable for his thorough ac- quaintance with the holy scriptures, was about to settle in London, having been appointed to the chaplaincy of the Lock Hospital. " This was a period of my life when it was peculiarly important to me habitually to attend the ministrations of a sound and faithful pastor ; and I willingly assented to Mr. Newton's earnest recommendations of Mr. Scott. I soon found that he fully equalled the strongest expec- tations that 1 had formed of him, and from that time for many years I attended him regularly, for the most part accompanied by my dear friends, — both alas ! now gone to a better world, — the Hon. Edward James Eliot and Mr. Henry Thornton. We used to hear him at the Lock in the morning ; Mr. Thornton and 1 often gladly following him for the afternoon service into the city, where he had the lectureship of Bread Street church. All objections arising from an unfavourable manner were at once overruled by the strong sense, the extensive ac- quaintance with scripture, the accurate knowledge of the 1821.] AND HABITS. 565 human heart, and the vehement and powerful appeals to the conscience, with which all his sermons abounded in a greater degree than those of any other minister I ever attended. Indeed the substantial solidity of his discourses made those of ordinary clergymen, though good and able men, appear comparatively somewhat superficial and defective in matter. His zeal, together with his labours and indefatigable energy, could not but be manifest to all who had ever so little knowledge of his life and cha- racter. But, through the medium of a friend who re- sided some time under his roof, I had an opportunity of becoming acquainted with his conduct, temper, and man- ners, in family and life. These I can truly declare were such as to indicate his constant reference both in his conduct and temper, to the very highest moral standard, and a mind singularly vvatchful against what he conceived to be his own besetting infirmities. In particular I well re- member it was stated to me, that, if in the course of the day he had been betrayed into what he deemed an im- proper degree of warmth, with a measure of humility rarely to be found in any man, much less in one who could not but be conscious of his own superior powers, he would mention the circumstance, and implore forgive- ness of his infirmity in the evening devotions of the fa- mily. ; '' Were I required to specify the particular Christian principles which shone most conspicuously in his charac- ter, I should mention his simplicity of intention, his dis- interestedness, and his generous contempt of this world's wealth in comparison with those heavenly treasures on which his heart was supremely set. He conceived it to be peculiarly the duty of a Christian minister to be a pat- tern of disinterestedness, and to render it clear that he was governed by higher motives than those of worldly 566 CHARACTER, &C. [ChAP. XVII. gaii) or advancement. — It may be an illustration of this part of his character, that, in opening his heart to a friend on the mai-riage of one of his children, he express- ed his gratification that the lady had no fortune. — Never Indeed did I know any one in whom the grand governing principles of a true Christian appeared to rule more pow- erfully and habitually. ^' It was with no little regret that a change of residence, which took place on my marriage, rendered me a less constant attendant on Mr. Scott's ministry. But Mrs. W. and I always congratulated ourselves when an oppor- tunity of hearing him occurred. When your father quit- ted the neighbourhood of London, I was one of the many who deeply regretted his departure, though my concern was lessened by the hope that a country residence might prove serviceable to his health, and be the means of pro- longing a life of almost unequalled usefulness. I need not assure you that, the esteem and attachment I felt for him experiencing no diminution, I continued to take a deep interest in his well being ; and though I heard with con- cern that one, for whom I felt so sincere a friendship, • sliould suffer such a long continuance of severe bodily pain, yet I could not but feci that it was to the honour of this aged servant of God, that, as when in the possession of his bodily strength he had been abled to exhibit a model of what a Christian minister should be, so that he had done it no less in his declining years, by the patience and humility with which he bore his bodily sufferings, and the diligence with which he never failed to improve every remaining bodily and mental faculty for the glory of God and the edification of his fellow-creatures. '' Large indeed was the harvest he was allowed to gather in : many are the works which have followed him ; and rich, doubtless, will be his remuneration, on that day when 1821.] SENTIMENTS ON EDUCATION. .567 he shall hear the blessed address which I could for very, very few, anticipate with equal confidence, JVell done good and faithful servant, enter thou into the joy ^f ^% Lord ! — I remain, with real esteem and regard, my dear sir, your faithful servant, W. WiLBERFOKCE." '' The Rev, John Scott.'^ One more topic remains to be adverted to in this chap- ter, to which refference has been already made : it is, my father's sentiments concerning education. On this subject he will himself have disappointed the hopes of many readers, by the closing sentence of his own narrative ; and I am sensible that it will not be in my power to relieve the disappointment. At the same time I would remind such persons how many valuable hints they may collect from various letters which had been laid before them ; and likewise how great weight there is in the sentence referred to, when interpreted as he would understand it. '^The grand secret'' of my success, he there says, '^ appears to have been this, that I always sought, for my children as well as for myself, in the first PLACE, the kingdom of God and his righteousness.^^ In his view, this would extend not only to the instruction directly given, and the prayers offered on behalf uf liis family, but to his whole conduct respecting theni ; to tlie spirit and behaviour habitually exhibited before them ; to the value practically and evidently set upon eternal, in preference to temporal, things ; and very particularly to the disposal of them in life— the places of instruction to which they should be sent, the families which they sliould .">68 SENTIMENTS [ChAP. XVII. visit, the connexions which they should form, and the openings which shoidd he enihraced or rejected for them. ^^ Many ofus.'^ says Dr. Paley, ^* are brought up with this world set before us, and nothing else. Whatever promotes tins world's prosperity is praised; whatever hurts and ol>structs and prejudices this world's prosperity is bkuiicd : and there all praise and censure end. We see mankind about us in motion and action ; but all these mo- tions and actions directed to worldly objects. We hear their conversation ; but it is all the same way. And this is what we see and hear from the first. The views which are continually placed before our eyes regard this life alone and its interests. Can it then be wondered at that an early worldly- mindedness is bred in our hearts, so strong as to shutout heavenly-mindedness entirely?" AH this strikingly illustrates, bt/ contrast, what my father meant in the above-quoted sentence. How far the censure which it conveys bears upon the practice of many families in W'hich religious instruction is not neglected, those con- cerned must judge for themselves. -^Itis seriously to be apprehended,'' my father observes in one of his last publications relating to the state of the times, " that re- missness in family religion, relaxation of domestic author- ity, and the adoption of worldly maxims in the educa- tion and disposal of children, constitute a considerable part of the sins of the church in the present day, as dis- tinguished from the sins of the irreligious part of the na- tion."— Such was his judgment. What was his practice, the same distinguished writer lately cited may be said to have described, when he proceeds : " That religion there- fore may not be quite excluded and overborne, may not quite sink under these powerful causes, every support ought to be ^iv^en to it. which can be given by education, by instruction, and, above all, by the example of those, to 3821.] ON EDUCATION. 569 whom young persons look up, acting with a view to a fu- ture life themselves." Or rather his conduct is more ad- equately described by the nervous language of the inspir- ed apostle : " We look not at the things which are seen, but at the the things which are not seen ; for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which arc not seen are eternal.'^* The deficiencies, of which my father speaks in the same closing sentence of his narrative, were mainly owing, I conceive, to the want of time for more particular instruc- tion and superintendence, which was inseparable from the constant pressure of engagements under which he lived. But, though I avow my despair of satisfying the ex- pectations of some friends on the subject of the present section, I have one document to lay before them, which I trust they will accept with indulgence and read with in- terest. It is a memorial of a part of what passed at As- ton, at our family meeting there, before mentioned,! in the year 1818, as preserved in a letter to an absent brother. It may be remembered, that one object then proposed was, that our revered head might deliver to us, perhaps for the last time, " such hints, especially on the manage- ment of our families, as should occur to him, and as might tend, under the blessing of God, to make us in some de- gree such blessings to our children, as, we trusted, he had been to us." Of these hints some will be found to cor- respond to each part of the sentence which introduced the present observations. — My memorandu'n is as follows : " My father then took up the subject which had been proposed to him, and the text named as an inti'oduction to it. Genesis xviii. 9, expressing his sense of its vast im- portance, and that particularly as applied to us, in our *2Cor. iv. 18. t See above, p. 434. 4C 570 SENTIMENTS [ChAP XVII. sitiiMtioiis, and with oiir families. I can give you but biitl' hints of v\hat he. said, but they may recall to your recollection his strain of thinking and speaking on such poisits. ''He first used the most humble expressions concern- ing his sense of the unsufficiency and imperfection of what he had done himself : that people asked him what were the rules, and schemes, and plans, which he had adopted and pursued ; but that really he had been always too much involved in his many engagements, to pursue any very regular scheme or system in the education of his children: and he ascribed the success, which he hoped had attended him, to God's blessing on steady upright aims and inten- tions, rather than to the wisdom of his plans and the com- petency of his rules. '' 1. One thing that he could look back upon with sat- isfaction, and which he would earnestly inculcate, was, that he had ever decidedly sought itrst the kingdom of God and his righteousness for us, as well as for himself; and this not merely in his prayers, but in his instructions, and in disposing of us in life. He had been, he observed, most of his time p(>or ; and in London he could have found many opportunities of getting his children off his hands, and even of putting \\\q\w forward in the world ; but he determined not to avail himself of them, but rather to keep his children under his own roof as long as he could. For his sons his heart had been set upon the ministry, — perhaps too fondly : though, as we knew, it had always been his maxim, that, while he would rather see us faith- ful ministers of Christ than princes, yet he would rather we were shoe- blacks than clergymen in office but not in heart : and he had been unwilling to relinquish the hope that we should answer his desires, for the sake of any more lucrative prospect tliat was presented. 1821.] ON EDUCATION. 571 ^^ 2. He would enjoin, Whatever else you teach or omit to teach your children, fail not to teach them sub^ jection ; and that to the mother, as well as to the father. This, he said, is as essential to their own welfare, tempo- ral and eternal, as to that of the family, the church, and the state. Establishing authority, (which is perfectly consistent with kindness and affection,) so that, from childhood, they shall not think of deliberately opposing a parent's will, — of having or doing what he disapproves : this is the greatest safe-guard that can be placed about young persons. Subjection to authority 's God's ordi- nance— essential, in addition to all other considerations, to the belief and practise of religion. If it were true, that there were more pious women than men, he would ascribe it very much to this circumstance, that they are more habituated to restraint and subjection. " Here I took the liberty of bearing, to the juvenile part of the company, my testimony to the great value and advantage of the discipline under which, particularly in this respect, we were brought up ; while I see, among pupils, and in many religious families, the prevalence, and the sad consequences of an opposite practice. There was no want of affection, on the one part, or of confidence, on the other, in my father's family : but thei'e was an awe of parental authority : any thing, to vyhich he could not freely consent, was out of the question with us : at least it was so to a considerable degree. This is a pre- servative from a thousand sins and follies and miseries, to which those young persons who have an unsubdued will of their own are exposed. I heartily wish we may all, by God's blessing^, succeed in establishing the same system in our families. " 3. He enforced, as of great importance, the forming of habits of application. The idea of teaching every 572 SENTIMENTS [ChAP. XVII. tiling as piny or entertainment, could it be realized, would sacrifice, he observed, the great moral benefits of education. The difference between work and play should be felt : and the ])roportion of the former to the latter gradually increased. The habit of application is of vastly greater importance than any particular branch of learning which is to be acquired by it. ^^ I will here subjoin the remark of a wise man, Mr. Hichardson of York, who said, ^ It seemed to him, that the wide difference existing among families brought up under the same religious instruction, was, in a very main degree, to be traced to some being trained to i)idust?^ioiis habits, and some not.' '' 4. To such of us as have pupils from wxalthy fa- milies, it might, my father proceeded, be particularly important to point out, what he had always wished to keep in our view, when we were young, that our child- ren were not to consider themselves as on a footing with all, with whom they might associate. Many things might be proper for their companions, in the way of dress, expence, &c. which would be highly improper for thoriy on account of their different situation and prospects in life. This he observed, was ever to be kept in view by the families of ministers especially : and children should therefore be habituated to the consideration from the first. " Connected with this, the subject of accepting invi- vitations for our children, to pay visits to friends, deserv- ed much attention, and sometimes occasioned much dif- ficulty. Such calls should be complied with sparingly, and with much care. Even where the families to which they might be invited were unexceptionable in all other points than that of superior station or fortune, yet the difltrent style of living would often be of itself a sufii- 1821.] ON EDUCATION. 573 cient objection, where the youthful mind was concerned. Wanting to be genteel frequently proved a great snare to families circumstanced as our's were. "5. On the subject of teaching children re //.^r/o/?, he had in some degree altered his opinions. He had done too little, he was convinced, in the way of teaching us ca- techisms, prayers, and portions of scripture by heart ; not only from the want of time, but from a fear, beyond what was warranted, of producing formality : and he ap- prehended that there still prevailed an error on this head, among many persons, agreeing with us in our general sentiments. Observation of facts had produced the change in his judgment. He had lived to see, to how good account a pretty large measure of such instruction might be turned ; particularly storing the mind with scrip- tures for future use. He would have the memory, while tenacious, as in children, preoccupied with such matter ; without, however, rendering it burdensome. " He had not attempted a great deal in the way of talking directly to children, and drawing them forth to talk, upon religious subjects ; but much, he trusted, by family worship, and the constant reading and expounding of the scriptures : much also, he hoped, by the conversa- tion kept up in his family, and by the spirit of supreme regard to religion, which he had endeavoured to main- tain. This he pressed upon our particular attention with reference to our children. " To the effect of his general conversation I gave my testimony, by observing, that the knowledge, which I had*found turn to most account in life, appeared to have been gathered up, gradually and imperceptibly, from what thus passed in his family. " He urged the improvement of passing events, of oc- currences relating to our own conduct and that of others. ;)74 SEMIMKNTS [ChAP. XVII. as the occasions of religious remark, illustrative of scrip- tural truths— teaching young persons to take a religious and Christian view of whatever took place. " If surrounded by a young family, he said, his expo- sitions would be somewhat varied from their present form : they would be less full and minute, and, as far as he found it practicable, more suited to arrest and impress the youthful mind. — He would also make a point of hav- ing evening prayer at such an hour, that the \ounger branches of the family (from seven or eight years of age,) might be present, as well as in the morning. — He much recommended extemporary prayers in the family, glanc- ing at existing circumstances, in preference to any fixed forms ; especially among young persons. " 6. He pressed the importance of gaining the affec- tions of our children ; drawing them to choose our compa- ny, to enter into our conversation, and to make us their confidents. " 7. He expressed his hope, that there might be lit- tle need to say to us. Let brotherly love continue ; but^ said he, let every thing be done to train up your children also to union and cordiality : let them be guarded, and taught themselves to guard, against whatever might vio- late it. There will be different turns of mind : there will be occasions tending to excite jealousy, envy, and grudging : but let the demon of discord be watched against, as the deadliest foe to a family. Respectability, happiness, usefulness, all depend on its exclusion. Jl tJirrefold cord is not easily broken ; but a divided house comet li to desolation. ^^ My father concluded with prayer for all present, and for all those belonging to us who were absent ; for us and our children after us, and our children's children, to future generations, if there should be such ; that reli- 1821.] ON EDUCATION. 575 gion might not decline, and become extinct among us, but that all might prove (like Abraham, who had fur- nished our text,) blessed ourselves, and blessings to others. " After the prayer, I took his opinion on the subject of introducing young persons to the sacrament of the Lord's supper ; which I was the more desirous to do, from knowing his sentiment, that it is an ordinance for the edification of believers, not for the conversion of sin- ners. I observed, that I trusted we had seen good effects result, in many instances, from encouraging young persons to come, who appeared hopeful and promising ; who shewed feeling, and an apparent desire of religious improvement ; though we could not arrive at a decisive judgment concerning their piety. He fully acquiesced in this, and expressed his approbation of inviting the at- tendance of such persons, with proper explanations, and when it meets their own desire. He thought it often proved a deciding event with them, and the means of fixing them. — The distinction was marked between such an approach to the Lord's table, and persons coming merely because they have attained a certain age, and have been confirmed : as likewise between coming in order to establish a satisfaction with what they are, and using it as a means of being made what they should Z>e." fe A striking amplification of some parts of the preceding paper may be found in a note of my father's on a passage in the Pilgrim's Progress, where Demas, who ^Movfed this present world," is introduced with the epithet gen- tlemanlike attached to his name. After some excellent remarks on the effects arising from the affectation of gen tility in persons in trade, he thus proceeds : •' But none are in this respect so much exposed as ministers and their families, when, having no private fortune, they are situa- 576 SENTIMENTS [ChAP. XVII. ted among the affluent and genteel : and, by yielding to the temptation, they are often incapacitated from paying their debts with punctuality ; they are induced to de- grade their oflice by stooping to unsuitable methods of ex- tricating themselves out of difliculties, from which strict fruj;ality would have preserved them, and by laying themselves under obligations to such men as are capable of abusing tins purchased superiority ; and, above all, they are generally led to place their children in situations and connexions highly unfavourable to the interests of their souls, in order to procure them a genteel provision. If we form our judgment on this subject from the holy scripture, we shall not think of finding the true ministers of Clirist among the higher classes in the community, in matters of external appearance or indulgence. That in- formation and learning, which many of them have the op])ortunity of acquiring, may render them acceptable company to the aflluent, especially to such as love them for their work's sake ; and even the exercise of Christian tempers will improve the urbanity acquired by a liberal education, where faithfulness is not concerned. But if a minister thinks, that the attention of the great or noble requires him to copy their expensive style of living, he grievously mistakes the matter. For this will generally forfeit the opinion before entertained of his good sense and regard to propriety : and his official declarations concerning the vanity of earthly things, and the Chris- tian's indifference to them, will be suspected of insin- cerity, while it is observed that he conforms to the world, as ftir or even further than his circumstances will admit : and thus respect will often be changed into disgust. Nay indeed the superior orders in society do not choose to be too closely copied, in those things which they deem their exclusive privileges ; especially by one who (they 1821. J ON EDUCATION. 577 must think,) secretly depends on them to defray the ex- pence of the intrusive competition. The consistent minister of Christ will certainly desire to avoid every thing mean and sordid, and to retrench in every otlier way rather than exhihitthe appearance of pernjpy : but, provided he and his family can maintain a decent simpli- city, and the credit of punctuality in his payments, he will not think of aspiring any higher. Il", in order to do this^ he be compelled to exercise considerable self- denial, he will think little of it, while he looks more to Jesus and his apostles than to the few of a superior rank who profess the gospel : and, could he afford something genteel and fashionable, he would deem it more desira- hle to devote a larger portion to pious and charitable uses, than to squander it in vain affectation.'' In addition to the observations here detailed, the reader may be referred for a further explanation of my father's views on education to the twenty-iirst of his Es- says, which treats of the relative duties. On the subject of " establishing authority," (which was to be accomplished early,) he used to observe that it generally cost him a sharp contest, sometimes more tlian one ; but that, when it was once settled who was master, the parent and not the child, the path was ever after com- paratively smooth and easy. On correction, he was decided as to its propriety and necessity, as the appointment of God. At the same time he thought it need by no means be frequent, if it were properly administered. He would not have it applied for small faults: for what resulted from cbiklisb hxity and inconsideration ; but only for what was wilful, rebel- lious, or immoral. " A child," he observed, '^ was to be punished, not for being a child, but for being a ivickcd child." Of course he taught that chastisement was to be 4D 578 SENTIMENTS [ChAP. XVIL applied coolly and with deliberation, to fulfil a duty pain- ful to our feelings, not for their gratification. It was a rule with him, that, from the time children became capable of making their wants known in any other way, they were to obtain nothing by crying for it, or by any other misconduct. The contrary practice, he said, was bribing them to behave ill. He much lamented to see parents so often inverting the proper course to be pursued, leaving their children almost without restraint when young, and then attempt- ing to impose too severe restrictions upon them when grown up. Each error was highly pernicious ; the combination of the two, of most ruinous consequence. A lady who was for a considerable time resident in his house, and who has very successfully brought up her family by rules principally derived from him, mentions in a letter two circumstances which particularly struck her in his management: one was his ^^ never resenting misconduct in any way when the contest was over. I used to admire,'"' she says, " his being so soon kind again to the oHendcr. This I judge to be important, though it may seem trivial." The other was " his plan of let- ting his authority go by imperceptible degrees, as his children grew up. In this," she remarks, " he excelled, I rm ready to say, even his management in childhood : and the observation of many unhappy cases, arising from a contrary course, has convinced me of its great impor- tance. He would have been a wise fiither, even had he not been a religious one ; just views were so obvious to his wise mind. I think the dissatisfaction, which you tell me he expresses in the close of his narrative, arose from his not having had great opportunity of comparing his plan with those of others, and of observing how miserably many children have been brought up. There 1821.] ON EDUCATION. 579 is however a great improvement, at least in my circle I take the opportunity of speaking of him in every com- pany into which I go, when there is a young mother present.^' 580 uis WORKS. [Chap. CHAPTER XVIII. HIS WORKS HIS THEOLOGY CONCLUSION. ^^ The characteristic excellency of his writings/^ Mr. Wilson says, '' is a calm, argumentative, determined tone of scriptural truth ; a clear separation of one set of princi- ples from another ; a detection of plausible errors ; an exhibition, in short, of a sound, comprehensive, adequate view of Christianity ; such as goes to form the really solid divine. His motto may he conceived to have been, K)imving that I am set for the defence of the gospel ^ I. On my fiither s first work, the Force of Truth, and and on his ])rincipal work, the Commentary on the Scrip- tures, Mr. Wilson has spoken with sufficient copiousness in what has been already inserted from his sermons. I may be allowed however to remark it, as shewing a very different state of feeling upon such subjects from that whicii now exists, that a narrative so striking in itself, as the Force of Truth exhibits, and one so strongly tending to support what, amid unceasing obloquy and opposition, are contended for as the great doctrines of the reforma- tion and of the holy scriptures, should for a long time have attracted so little attention. Ten years, it has been seen, passed before a thousand copies were sold. Yet* several years before that period had elapsed, it had been tn nslatcd into a foreign language and published on the continent. XVIII.] HIS WORKS. 581 I subjoin a well known instance of the effect of the work on a character which has much interested the pub- lic mind. " About this time Mr. Piggott, the curate of St. Mary's Nottingham, hearing what was the bent of his (Henry Kirke White's) religious opinions." nam. ly, ' inclining towards deism/ " sent him, by a friend, Scotrs Force of Truth, and requested him to peruse it attentive- ly ; which he promised to do. Having looked at the book, he told the person who brought it to him, that he could soon write an answer to it ; but about a fortnight afterwards, when this friend inquired how far he had proceeded in his answer to Mr. Scott, Henry's reply was in a very different tone and temper. He said, that to answer that book was out of his power, and out of any man's, for it was founded upon eternal truth ; that it had convinced him of his error ; and that so thoroughly was he impressed with a sense of the importance of his Maker's favour, that he would willingly give up all acquisitions of knowledge, and all hopes of fame, and live in a wilder- ness, unknown, till death, so he could insure an inheri- tence in heaven. — A new pursuit thus opened to him, and he engaged in it with his wonted ardour."* To what Mr. Wilson has said concerning the Commen- tary, I would annex the opinion expressed by the late Rev. Andrew Fuller — ^* I believe it exhibits more of the mind of the Spirit in the scriptures, than any other work of the kind extant :" and the following testimony of the author of the " Introduction to the Critical Study and Knowledge of the Holy Scriptures." Having quoted Mr. Wilson's account of the work, Mr. Home adds : — " To the preceding just character of this elaborate Com- mentary, the writer of these pages (who does not view all * Southey's Life and Remains of H. K. White. dS2 his wouks. [Chap. topics precisely in the same point of view with its late learn- ed author,) deems it an act of bare justice to state, that he has never consulted it in vain on difficult passages of the scriptures. While occupied in considering the va- rious ohjections of modern infidels, he, for his own satis- faction, thoiiL^lit out every answer (if he may be allow- ed the expression,) for himself, referring only to commen- taries in (piestions of more than ordinary difficulty : and in every instance, — especially on the Pentateuch, — he found in Mr. Scott^s Commentary brief hut solid refutations of alles^ed contradictions^ which he could find in no other similar work extant in the Ens^lish language P The only observation which I shall myself make relates to the leading principle of interpretation adopted in the work, which appears to be of this kind : that every pas- sage of scripture has its real, literal, and distinct meanings which it is the first duty of a commentator, whether from the pulpit or the press, to trace out and explain ; what- ever application he may think fit subsequently to make it : and that, speaking of the scriptures generally, the spiritual meaning, is no other than this real meaning, the actual intention of the passage, with its fair legitimate application to ourselves. The author looked, therefore, with a very jealous eye upon the whole scheme o^ accom- modation so much in favour with many persons, which takes a passage often without even a reference to its con- nexion and real purport, and applies it to somewhat to which it has no actual relation, and perhaps does not even bear any analogy. — A few extracts from my father's writings will best illustrate his views. In the preface to his Commentary he briefly notices the subject, in explaining the plan upon which his own work proceeds, and the reasons that led to its adoption. But the fullest explanation of his sentiments is to be XVIII.] HIS WORKS. 583 found in two papers in his collected '' Works/*' The first was published in the Theological Miscellany, for 1786, in reply to a query concerning the passage, Eccles. ix. 13 — 15, which describes "di certain poor man, who. by his wisdom, delivered his city/' but was " no more remembered'' by the citizens. Some persons have had the fancy of applying this to our redemption by Christ, and our returns for the benefit. On this he says : " In explaining the word of God, we should remember that there is in every portion one precise meaning, previously to our employing our ingenuity upon it, which it is our business, with reverent attention to investigate. To dis- cover that meaning, we should soberly and carefully exa- mine the context, and consider the portion in question in the relation in w-hich it stands." Then, having pointed out the useful practical lessons suggested by the plain meaning of the story, he proceeds : ^' I would gladly know by what authority any man, overlooking these plain useful instructions, by the help of a warm imagination, sets himself to find gospel mys- teries in this passage ? .... It would puzzle the most ingenious of these fanciful expositors fairly to accommo- date the circumstances of the story to the work of redemp- tion. Two purposes indeed, such as they are, may be answered by such interpretation : 1. Loose professors are encouraged in their vain confidence, by hearing thai none of the redeemed are more mindful of, or thank- ful to their Saviour than themselves 2. It is a powerful engine in the hands of vain-glorious men, by which to catch the attention, and excite the admiration of injudicious multitudes, who ignorantly admire the sa- gacity of the man that finds deep mysteries, where their ore sober pastors perceived nothing but unrelishing practical instruction I have heard many sensible 384 HIS WORKS. [ClIAP. and pious persons lament this sort of explication of scrip- ture, as an evil of tlie fust magnitude : and I am more and more convinced it is so. At this rate you may prove any doctrine from any text : every thing is reduced to uncertainty, as if the scripture had no determinate mennifig. till one wasarhitrarily imposed by the imagina- tion of man : . . . . the most important doctrines of the gospel seem to lose their beauty and glory, along with their simplicity, in the midst of such useless encumbrance: and the most conclusive arguments lose their effect, and become suspected, by the company which they keep : and, whilst the sophistical proof is detected, the opposer is emboldened to treat the rest as equally capable of refu- tation ^* However men may admire the sagacity of these ex- positors, it certainly shews a very lamentable state of the organs of sight, when a man can see nothing obvious^ useful, real, and capable of being pointed out to others for their benefit ; but, blind to these things, sees every thing through a different medium than others, and in such a manner as can furnish only amusement instead of information. It is very improperly called spiritually ex- plaining the scripture. The spiritual meaning, is the meaning of the Spirit of God, which is generally simple, and obvious to the humble inquirer. Opposite to this is the /(^mrz/w/ meaning, which always appears forced and unnatural to sober minds ; diverse and opposite to men of oj)posite parties and lively imaginations ; and only ex- citisadmirationby beingsurprisingand unexpected Thus the parable of the good Samaritan is evidently in- tended to ex])lain and enforce the great commandment of loving our nj^ighbour as ourselves, by shewing, in a lively example, how every personal and party consideration is to be overlooked : and safetv, ease, interest, and indul- XVIIT.] HIS WORKS. 585 gence hazarded or renounced, to rescue a fellow creature, though an enemy or stranger, in the hour of distress. Christ indeed, having in his life and death perfectly ful- filled this law, and far exceeded all that can possibly be required of any other person, because of his peculiar character, circumstances, and suretyship engagements, hath inexpressibly outdone the good Samaritan. But even this is accommodation ; and the practical inference, Go thou and do likewise, demands our peculiar attention. But now, if ingenuity and imagination are employed to bend every circumstance of this parable to the situation of fallen man, and the love of Christ ; and this is given as the primary or only meaning, whilst the practical in- struction is kept back ; the reader or hearer may be amused or disgusted, as he favours or dislikes the doc- trines of grace 5 but, whatever edification he may receive, he has not that which our Lord principally intended by the parable." The other document which conveys his sentiments on the subject before us is a letter to a highly-esteemed brother clergyman, who consulted him concerning the publication of a sermon on the signs and duties of the times, in the year 1799, from the text, Nahum ii. 1. He writes as follows : ^^If I had not considered you in a very different light, from that in which I do some preachers, in whose ser- mons imagination and accommodation predominate, I should have evaded the question, or declined giving an answer Your sermons always have a good tendency ; as such, I must give my approbation, leaving every man to his own method of attaining his object ; though 1 may think that method is not the best of which he is capa- ble When you take a plain text, full of matter, and, from the real meaning of the text, raise doctrines, 4E 586 Ills woKKs. [Chaf, draw conclusions, explain, illustrate, and applv the sub- ject, there is great weight in your manner of preaching; which the fertility ol' your invention and liveliness of imagination, kept in due hounds, render more interesting to the many^ without giving ju-^t ground of umbrage to the/6't(;. But, it appears to me and to others, that you frequently choose texts suited to give scope to the fancy, — which is constituted the interpreter, instead of the judgment ; and that you thus discover allusions, and de- duce doctrines and instructions, true and good in them- selves, but by no means contained in the text, nor, indeed, easily made out in the way of accommodation. In this case, your own vigour is principally exerted in the exer- cise of the imagination : and, while many hearers are surprised, amused, and delighted, their understandings, consciences, and hearts are not addressed or affected, by any means in so powerful a manner as by a plainer subject. " What St. Peter says of prophecy, that it is not of private interpretation^ is true of every part of scripture : the Holy Spirit had, in every part, one gi^nd meaning, and conveys one leading instruction ; though others may, by fair inference, subordinately be deduced. This is the real spiritual meaning, which we should first of all endeavour to discover, as the foundation of all our reason- ings and persuasions. We should open, allege, argue, enforce, and apply, from this mind of the Spirit in scrip- ture ; nor is any passage fit for a text, properly speaking, which does not admit of such an improvement of it, in its real meaning. But that, which you seem to call the « spiritual meaning,' is frequently no more than a }ie'w meaning put upon it by a lively lancy. — Typical sui)jects, invletd, havef a spiritual meaning, and in another sense, under the literal meaning ; being intended by the Holy XVIII.] HIS WORKS. 587 spirit, to shadow forth spiritual blessings under external signs ; and some prophetical visions are enigmatical, and the spiritual meaning is the unriddling of the enigma. — Parables, and such parts of scripture as the Canticles, are of the same nature. But* in all, the judgment should be the expositor, not the fancy ; and we should inquire what the Holy Spirit meant, not what we can make of it. But there are many scriptures that have no other mean- ing, than the literal ; and which are to be improved, not by finding out a new meaning and calling it spiritual^ but by trying what useful instruction we can dediice from the plain sense of the passage.'' He then applies these prin- ciples to the particular passage in question. But for that application, the reader must be referred to the paper itself. — He concludes, " My dear sir, I am so deeply convinced, that this way of accommodation is capable of very dangerous abuses, and has been so abused to very bad purposes, by those, who make divisions and deceive souls, that I grieve when any person of real piety and respectability gives countenance to it ; and I have so high an opinion of your integrity, benevolence, desire of glo- rifying God, and of doing good, and of your talents like- wise, if properly exerted, that I have long wished to dis- cuss the subject with you." II. Next to the " Force of Truth,'' one of his earli- est publications was the ^^ Discourse on Repentance :'' and this may be considered as the first of a series of The- ological Treatises, including " The Warrant and Nature of Faith, "the ^'Treatise on Growth in Grace," the ^^Ser- mon on Election and Final Perseverance," the '' Essays on the most Important Subjects in Religion :" to which we may add the volume of *• Sermons on Select Sub- jects," the " Four Sermons," and the " Notes on the Pilgrim's Progress." 588 HIS woiiKs. [Chap; The first of these works is a most serious, affectionate, and impressive address on a subject vvhicli appeared to the author, at the period ofthe publication, to be peculiarly neglected, and which, he thought, was seldom so much insisted upon as it ought to be. The instances, in which the work is known to have been productive ofthe hap- piest effects, are numerous. Though a plain, practical composition it exhibits much of that which distinguished the writers views of Christianity. He insists strongly on the immutable obligation ofthe divine law, its equity as well as purity, and the inexcusableness of transgression, notwithstanding the fallen state of human nature : marks the connexion of repentance with faith, with forgiveness of sin, and with every part of religion — exposing the un- soundness of that religion in which it does not bear even a pronnnent place ; and distinguishes between fiiith and personal assurance in the same manner as he always con- tinued to do. — Of the strictness of his practical system, the reader may judge by what he has said, in speaking ofthe nature of repentance, on the subjects of restitution; dealing in smuggled or contraband goods: and the case of bankrupts. The occasion of the " Warrant and Nature of Faitlv' has already been in some measure explained. In that work the author may be said to attempt to hold the bal- ance between certain excellent men at home — Marshall, Hervey, Romaine — in whose sentiments concerning faith and assurance, and some other points, he could not con- cur ; and the New England divines — particularly Ed- wards and Bellamy — whom he held in high estimation, but who, he thought had raised a prejudice against their own writings by pushing some things too fiir, and thus '' throwing impedients in the sinner's path, when endea- vouring with trembling steps to come to the gracious Sa- XVm.] HIS WORKS. 589 viour,'' " and candemning many as self-deceivers, whom God would own as real, though weak believers. '' The work consists, of two parts : one of which mian- tains, that the word of God, independently of any per- sonal qualifications, is the sinner's only and sufficient ivar- rantj or authority for exercising faith in Christ ; and as- signs reasons for insisting on this position : the other as- serts the holy nature of true faith in all cases, and that it is the effect of regeneration ; and alleges distinct rea- sons for insisting upon these positions as well as the other. In speaking of the nature of faith the author is careful to impress the sentiment, that it always connects with a humble earnest application to the divine Redeemer for salvation ; which he does in order to distinguish it from a mere inert reliance, with which he apprehends many deceive themselves. He also discriminates between faith and personal assurance of acceptance with God, which he " not only grants, but strenuously maintains, that no one is w^arranted'' to cherish, " except as he has clear proof that he is in Christ a new creature : and has crucified the flesh with its affections and lusts P Much of the book is employed in establishing what, to a mind not corrupted from scriptural simplicity by spec- ulation or controversy, might not seem to require proof: but the general result will be found very important : of which, I think, the pious reader may be fully convinced, by turning, previously to his perusal of the whole, to the introductory and the concluding pages. The small •* Treatise on Growth in Grace'' has been a favourite with some of its author's most distinguished friends. In this work, the origin and progress of " the love of God" in the human heart are well traced ; a com- prehensive account is given of Christian love, in general ; and the question of Christians '^ leaving their first love" 590 HIS WORKS. [Chap. is discussed. Christian zeal is also considered, and the notion of love (instead of the law of God) being our rule: and the temper and character of the ripe and mature Christian are admirably delineated. This tract, it will be remembered, was composed for the benefit of the be- loved people whom the author had recently left at Haven- stone, and in the neighbourhood of Olney. Of it, ])erhaps, in particular it may be remarked, what appears to me true of his writings in general, that, while they carefully avoid certain extremes which have been countenanced by some good men of a different school, they pi'csent the peculiar excellencies of the New Eng- land divines, relieved from a certain forbidding aspect which their writings wear to the inexperienced reader. The '* Sermon on Election and Final Perseverance'' is of a very moderate and practical cast. Had these doc- trines been always exhibited in the manner here exem- plified, prejudice must have been much abated, and many arguments employed against them must have been felt to be irrelevant. The author expressly undertakes to shew that they are ''' consistent with exhortatory and practical preaching, and conducive to holiness of life." Different opinions will be formed of his success in this undertaking: one thing, however, is most evident, that, in asserting what he deemed to be one part of scriptural truth, it never entered into his plan to give up another part, or in the least degree to throw it into shade. — What may appear to some a peculiarity of the sermon, though that must be ill intitled to such a name, which is common to almost all Calvinistic churchmen, to many dissenters, and to the principal American divines, is its maintaining, in con- nexion with its other doctrines, that of Chi'ist's having died for all men, or, in other words, of general, or uni- versal redemption. It mav deserve also to be remarked, XVIII.] HIS WORKS. 591 that the author adduces, in this discourse, as most exactly expressive of his sentiments upon this subject, a part of the Church Catechism, which the present Bishop of Vv'in- chester, several years afterwards, brought forward in one of those charges which formed the* ground-work of his ^^ Refutation of Calvinism," as decisive proof that the Church of England rejected the doctrines in support of which the sermon is written. The part of the chatechism referred to is that, which affirms that God the Son " re- deemed all mankind, '' and that Go^l the Holy Ghost " santifieth all the elect people of God ;" placing the lim- itation not on redemption but on sanctification ; or, as some have expressed it, not upon the impetration^ but upon the opp/zm^/o^ of redemption. Before we quit this publication, I w^ould observe that, firmly as the author held the doctrines of personal elec- tion and final perseverance, he continued to the end of life, as he had done in his " Force of Truth," to place these tenets in a very different rank from those of human depravity, justification by faith, and regeneration and sanctification by the Holy Spirit. The latter and not the former, whatever any may choose to impute to him, con- stituted the substance of his divinity and of his teaching ; as they do of those of the clergy with whom he is usual- ly classed. We have found this as strongly stated in his private correspondence as it can be in any public docu- ments either of his, or of those who* from their avowing less Calvinism than he did, are represented as being less honest. We have seen him not only adopting Mr. New- ton's sentiment, that, though Calvinistic principles were to diff*usean influence overall our instructions, they were, generally speaking, to be found no where in the lump i"^ * Above, p. 410. 592 HIS WORKS. [Chap. but also writing to a friciul^ If you find any thing too Calvinistic for you in my works " you must skip it.;^ and even saying of Mr. Wilberforce's book, " It is not Calvinistic — perhaps it is so much the better :''t — that is^ it may the better answer the purposes for which it was written. And, at the close of this very " Sermon on Election and Perseverance," he thus declares his senti- ments concerning bringing these doctrines forward in the pulpit : ^^ And now in applying the subject I would observe thatj while numbers argue with the greatest vehemence against the points in question, and groundlessly charge them with implying the most dishonourable thoughts of God, and tending to the most pernicious consequences ; others are ready to say, in extravagant zeal, to any one of greater moderation, ' If you really believe these doc- trines, why do you preach them so sparingly, cautiously, and practically?" I would desire such a man carefully to study even St. Paul's Epistles, and to answer the ob- jection himself. Perhaps he may find that there is not a less proportion on such subjects in our sernions and pub- lications, than in his writings ; and that he as carefully guards them from abuse, and connects them as much with holy practice, as We can do. We generally meet with a few verses in an Epistle upon the doctrines in question : a much larger proportion upon the person, love, and suf- ferings of Christ, and on ffiith in him ; and whole chap- ters upon a holy life and conversation : and, if we do not in the same manner proportion, guard, and connect them, hypocrites will abuse them, infidels will despise them, and the weak will be stumbled. Indeed they are not at all proper subjects to insist on, when we preach to sinners, * Above, p. 416. t Above, p. 324. XVIII. HIS WORKS. 593 to prejudiced hearers, or newly- awakened persons ; and are seldom if ever found in scripture explicitly thus ad- dressed : yet a great part of our more public ministry is exercised among such persons. Let it not then be thought carnal policy to adapt our discourses to the occasions and wants of the hearers, while nothing inconsistent with truth is spoken, nothing profitable kept back. Our Lord himself says, / have yet many things to say unto you, but ye cannot bear them now : and Paul writes to some^ who were prone to be wise in their own conceits — / could not speak unto you as unto spiritual, bat as unto carnal. I have fed you with milk, and not with meat, for hitherto ye were not able to bear it ; neither yet are ye now able : and he gives a reason for this conduct, which proves that many in most congregations are not able, namely the prevalence of strife and contention among them.'' The volume of " Essays" is too well known to need any extended remarks. The author himself speaks of it as containing " a compendious system of the Christian re- ligion, according to his views of it :" and Mr. Wilson de- scribes it as ^^incomparable for the plain exposition of truth." It is close, and full of thought perspicuously and forcibly expressed ; and perhaps no where, within the same compass, can the reader be referred to more co- pious, sound, and important religious instruction. I would point out particularly the second Essay, on the Im- portance of Revealed Truth, and on the reception of it upon the authority of Him who has revealed it ; the third, on the Scriptural Character of God ; the fifteenth, on the Uses of the Moral Law in subserviency to the Gospel ; the eighteenth, on the Disposition and Character of the True Believer; the twentieth and twenty -first on Rela- lative Duties ; and the twenty-third on the Improvement 4 F 394 HIS WOKKS. [CllAP.. of Talents ; as characteristic, and peculiarly valuable. — One delightful instance of the usefulness of this work, in the case of a literary and philosophic character, who was by its means reclaimed from sceptical principles, and es- tablished in the practical and efiectual faith of the gos- pel, has since the author's death, been announced to the world in the brief Memoir of Thomas Bateman, M. D.* But this is only one among many proofs of the happy effects of his writings. In speaking of his ^^ Volume of Sermons,'' and of his " Four Sermons," which may be connected with them, I shall not presume to enter into any examination of his pulpit composition. The subject has already been touch- ed upon both by Mr. Wilson, and in the letter which I had so much pleasure in inserting at the close of his ^' Character."' He is allowed to have been defective in style and manner, and in some other qualities, which might have rendered his discourses more attractive, both to the hearer and the reader : but it would not be easy to point out a preacher whose sermons carried in them greater weight of matter, or who more excelled in ^Mnght- ly dividing the word of truth," giving to every charac- ter " his portion in due season." I confess it always ap- peared to me, that, while he was the strictest and most practical preacher I could hear, he was also the most con- solatory ; because he not only pointed out where comfort was to be had, but what was the legitimate mode of ap- propriating it. By always describing the character for whom it was designed, and that with great condescen- sion to the feeling of the humblest upright Christian, he * Christian Observer for November 1821 : since published as a separate tract, with some additions, by Butterworths, Fleet Street. XVlIL] HIS WORKS. 595 enabled those to whom consolation belonged to perceive their interest in it. The design of his volume of Sermons was thus ex- plained by himself, in a preface not retained in the later editions : ^^To shew the absolute necessity of evangelical principles in order to holy practice, and their never- fail- ing efficacy in sanctifying the heart, when cordially re- ceived ; and to exhibit, according to the best of the au- thor's ability, the nature and effects of genuine Christia- nity, as distinguished from every species of false religion, without going far out of his way to combat any of them ; is the especial design of this publication. But he has, at the same time, endeavoured to explain, establish, and enforce his views of the gospel in that manner which was deemed most likely to inform the mind, and affect the heart, of the attentive and teachable reader," In commenting on " The Pilgrim's Progress," he has not only illustrated more fully and distinctly, than had ever before been done, the various scenes and characters of that ingenious and most iustructive allegory ; but has found ample scope for unfolding and enforcing those views of religion for which he always pleaded, and in which he appears to have entirely coincided with his author. In his preface, and in the Life of Bunyan, he thus speaks of the original work : " The accurate observer of the church in his own days, and the learned student of ecclesiastical history, must be equally surprised to find, that hardly one remarkable character, good or bad, or mixed in any manner or proportion imaginable, or one fatal delusion, by-path, or injurious mistake, can be singled out, which may not be paralleled, as to the grand outlines, in the Pilgrim's Progress." Yet " the author was only thirty- two years of age when he was imprisoned ;" in which si- tuation he wrote this work : ) " he had spent his youth in 59(3 HIS WORKS. [Chap. tlie most disadvantageous manner imaginable: and he had beeii no more than iive years a member of the chureh at B( (ilbrd, and less time a preacher of the gospel ;*^ and during part, at least, of his tedious imprisonment of twelve yeaiN, he had " no books, except a Bible, and Fox's Mai'tyrology." — One specimen of the notes has al- ready appeared in this work. III. Occasional Sermons. Of these, seven are funeral sermons, on Dr. Conyers, Mr. Thornton, the Rev. Messrs. Newell, Penty cross, and Barneth, Lady Mary Fitzgerald, and the Princess Charlotte. In most of these discourses he speaks not much of the individuals ; but notices the excellencies of their characters only in a general way. In that on Dr. Conyers, a change of manner, as compared with his pre- ceding publications, may be traced, which would not be favourable to popularity. There is an increase, or even excess of comprehensiveness, but a diminution of anima- tion. Indeed he complains in a letter, that it cost him more than usual trouble to reduce this sermon to writing, after having preached it. The Sermons on Mr. Thorn- ton, Lady Mary Fitzgerald, and the Princess, have al- ready been sufliciently noticed. That on Mr. Newell contains a copious and beautiful illustration of the text, ^^To me to live is Christ,'' &c., to which great stores of scriptural knowledge are made to contribute. Both this discourse and that on Mr. Pentycross display the pratical workman, the minister that " watches for souls,'' in the manner in which the subject is brought to bear upon the various descriptions of persons concerned in the event to be improved. The latter particularly considers the «xyS«:r/f, "' the end of the minister's conversation," spoken of in the text, Hebrews xiii. 7, 8. That on the missionary Barneth describes the Christian *^ hero," in the very XVIII.] HIS WORKS. o97 spirit of the character itself^ and is rich in scriptural illus- tration. His Sermons on national occasions are also seven in number: namely, Fast Sermons in 1793, 1794, and 1796; and Thanksgiving Sermons in 1784, 1798, 1802, and 1814 ; to which may be added his tract on the '' Signs and Duties of the Times/' in 1799. Three principles pervade all his publications of this description: 1. That the proper business of national fast days is humiliating before God for our sins as a people and as individuals : and that of national thanksgiving-days, the acknowledgment of God's unmerited mercies to us : 2. That the national guilt, which draws down divine judgments upon us, is the aggregate of individual trans- gression, to which we have all contributed our full share : 3. That whoever be the instruments or means, both ca- lamities and deliverances are to be considered as coming from the hand of God ; and that it is his part in them, with which alone we are concerned on these occasions. " Humiliation for sin," he observes, " or gratitude for unmerited blessings, has nothing to do with approbation or disapprobation of men or measures.'' Thus he declines all political discussion — (not including, however, under that description, such an inculcation of the duties owing from subjects to their rulers, as is expressly enjoined on Christian ministers ;*) — avoids taking the side of any par- ty ; rejects all declamation against the sins of our enemies; and makes the whole bear, as a personal concern, on every individual. On this whole <*lass of his publications I would remark, that, whereas it might be thought an uninteresting task to read over these obsolete fast and thanksgiving sermons, * Titus lii. ] , 598 HIS WORKS. [Chap. I have by no means found it so. On the contrary I think it im|)Ossil)le for the well-disposed mind to peruse them, without very gratifying and very beneficial impressions ; especially when the subsequent course of events, and in particular the history of religious and benevolent institu- tions, is retraced in connexion with them. Sermons preached for institutions of this description are the only ones which remain to be noticed. That before the Church Missionary Society, in 1801, is a very copious discourse on the question of Missions, in which, among other topics, the view which the scrip- tures present of the state and prospects of the heathen is considered, and it is affirmed, that to think so well as many profess to do of their condition is a virtual denial of Christianity : and that contrary sentiments concerning their state, so far from being the dictate of uncharitable- ness, have been the source of all the practical charity which has been exercised towards them. — That before the London Missionary Society, in 1804, is a very ani- mated and effective address on the command, " Pray ye therefore the Lord of the harvest, that he would send forth labourers into his harvest." In it the author ob- serves of himself: ^^ An early acquaintance with the writings of President Edw\ards, Brainerd, and the New England divines, gave my mind a peculiar turn to this subject. The nations unacquainted with Christ have ever since been near my heart : and I never thought a prayer complete, in which they were wholly forgotten. This was the case several years before societies for mis- sions (that is, new societies in England) were estab- lished : but I could do no more than offer my feeble prayers." His sermon before the London Society for promoting Christianity among the Jews, in 1810, is perhaps the XVIII.] HIS WORKS. 599 most spirited of all his printed discourses. It contains a very interesting illustration of the remarkable prophecy, Zach. viii. 23 : " In those days it shall come to pass, that ten men shall take hold, out of all languages of the nations, even shall take hold of the skirt of him that is a Jew, saying. We will go with you, for we have heard that God is with you." Nothing could be more unlikely, at the time this prophecy was delivered, than the fulfil- ment which it has received, in all the most enlightened nations of the earth becoming worshippers of the God of the despised Jews ! Yet the preacher argues, from com- parison of the passage with other scriptures, that it has a still more astonishing, at least a much more extensive ac- complishment yet to receive. The last Sermon of this description is that before the Governors of the London Female Penitentiary, in 1812; which is on " that one single event occurring on earth, that is declared to cause joy in heaven" — a sinner's coming to repentance. IV. Works directed against the infidelity and disaf- fection of the times. — These are the Rights of God, the Answer to the Age of Reason, and the Tract on Govern- ment. The first, it has already been said, gained but little attention ; less, I think, than it deserves, as compared with the rest of the author's smaller works. It is per- haps the best written, in point of style, of all his publi- cations. It is also well argued, and seems suited to the purpose of precluding manv of those false reasonings, by which numbers are prejudiced against the scriptures pre- viously to examination ; and excuse to their own minds the neglect with which they treat them. It is calculated to obviate infidelity, not by meeting its cavils in detail, but by possessing the mind with principles which would 600 HIS WORKS. [Chap. exclude tljeni. It ])lcacls tlie cause of Christian doctrines not by adducing scrij)tnral proofs, — for that would be foreign to the present ])urpose, — but by defending them against the charge of being so unreasonable as to be re- jected without listening to their evidence. — Besides meeting specific objections, the Answer to Paine treats more generally, in as many distinct chapters, of Revela- tion, Miracles, Prophecy, the Canon of Scripture, Mys- tery, Redemption, the Insufficiency of Deism, and the Nature and Tendency of Christianity. The " Impartial Statement of the Scripture Doctrine in respect of Civil Government, and the Duties of Sub- jects,'' must be allowed, I think, by all candid persons, to be very moderate, wise, and useful ; and it is still sea- sonable. It is divided into three chapters : the first containing " Propositions concerning Civil Government as the ordinance of God :'' the second pointing out " Things not the duties of Subjects to their Rulers :" and the third, '^ Duties incumbent on us to our Rulers, and in respect of Civil Government.'' V. Other Controversial Works : namely, the Answer to Rabbi Crooll on the Jewish question, the Answer to Bishop Tomline's " Refutation of Calvinism," and, as arising out of it, the History of the Synod of Dort. The first of these publications has been repeatedly ad- verted to in letters written while it was in preparation, and inserted in a former part of this work. It may here be remarked thcit, besides following the work which gave occasion to it, from page to page, and answering its ob- jections, or meeting its arguments as they arise, (a mode of reply, which, it must be confessed, combines with some advantages an apparent want of arrangement.) it dis- cusses, in a distinct manner, the following principal ques- tions and subjects : XVIIL] HIS WORKS. 601 1. ^ Was the Messiah, predicted in the Old Testa- ment, to have an immediate human father ? 2. ' Was he to be a mere man or not? 3. ' At what period was his coming to take place? ' A. ' What are we to understand by " the times of the Gentiles?'' 5. ' What have been the effects of Christ's coming on the state of the world ?' — answered in a very forcible and interesting manner. 6. ^The triumphs of Jesus compared with those of Mohammed 5' particularly in three points, 1 . ' The state of the countries in which their first successes were re- spectively obtained : 2. The nature of the religion pro- pagated by each : and, 3. The means by which the tri- umphs of each were gained ?' — This was the author's favourite section, and it is certainly very striking. It treats the subject more in detail than is usually done. 7. ' Whether the Messiah was to be the Messiah of Israel only, or of the Gentiles also ? 8. ' How far and in what cases miracles are a proof of a divine mission ? 9. ' Was the Messiah's kingdom to be spiritual or absolutely earthly ? 10. ^The Priesthood of the Messiah. 11. ^The reception which he was to meet with from the nation of Israel. 12. ' The death which he was to suffer, and the end to be answered by it.' — Here striking remarks are made on Isaiah liii, Psalm xxii, and other scriptures. 13. ' His resurrection, subsequent glory, and king- dom.' All these questions are, of course, discussed from the Old Testament alone. The subjects also of sacrifices, the . 4G .;'--■--'•- 60'<^ HIS WORKS. [Chap, oral law, or tniditions, and several others come under consideration. Of the work generally, tlie Christian Observer, for 1815, thus speaks : " Should it prove the c.ycnea vox^ the dying note of this truly great man, (the author,) which we trust it may not, we shall say much for this publication. if we pronounce it worthy to be so ; and state it to be inferior neither in matter nor temper to any of the truly Christian productions of his powerful mind." On the Answer to the " Refutation of Calvanism" I shall do little more than transcribe the opinion which Mr. Wilson has given, in notes annexed to his funeral sermons. " It appears to me,'' he says, " incomparable for the acute and masterly defence of truth.'' And again : " The effects of these great qualities" — decision, activity, and childlike submission, to divine revelation, — " are observable in every part of our departed friend's writings. They are full of thought ; full of ' the seeds of things,' as was said of Lord Bacon's works. The ore dug up from the mine is not unalloyed indeed, but it h rich and copious, and well worthy of the process neces- sary to bring it into use. Take as an instance, ' The Remarks,' which, in the second edition, I venture to call one of the first theological treatises of the day ; it is preg- nant with valuable matter, not merely on the questions directly discussed, but on almost every topic of doctrinal and practical divinity." It is needless to say, that they are not the mere pecu- liarities of Calvinism which are defended in this work : had such been the only points assailed, it would probably never have appeared. " But, in " falling foul of Calvin- ism," the volume which gave occasion to it offended grievously against Bishop Horsley's caution, to beware of '' attacking something more sacred, and of a higher XVIIL] HIS WORKS. 603 origin'' — even what '' belongs to our common Christiani- ty :'' and hence the answer, of course, takes equally wide ground. — To the Christian temper, and respectful style in which it is written, the learned prelate concerned is said, I believe upon good authority, to have done jus- tice. The learned and candid head of Oriel College, Oxford^ also, in quoting from this work a passage to which all who engage in religious controversy would do well to take heed, terms the author " one of the most pious and temperate writers" among modern Calvin ists, and says of him, " whose truly Christian sentiments I always ad- mire, although his opinions upon the main doctrine under consideration" — that of predestination — " appear to me mistaken and dangerous."^ The little work on the Synod of Dort arose out of the preceding publication. The account of the Synod com- monly received in this country is that furnished by the prejudiced Peter Heylin, who gives the abbreviation of the articles by Daniel Tilenus, instead of the articles themselves. His statements are taken upon trust, and repeated by one writer after another, in a manner little creditable either to their diligence or their candour. My father, finding these abbreviated articles in the Refu- tation of Calvinism, remarked upon them, in the first edition of his answer, as if they had been authentic, and thus, as he says, " erroneously adopted and aided in cir- culating a gross misrepresentation of the Synod." The discovery of his mistake led him to a more full investiga- tion of the subject, and thus to translate and give to the public, 1. ^^The History of preceding Events" which led to the convocation of the Synod ; 2. " The Judgment * Copleston on Necessity and Predestination, p. 90. 604 HIS WOUK8. [Chap, of the Synod," concerning the five controverted heads of doctrine : 3. '' The Articles'^ of the Synod : 4. ^' The Approbation of the States General :'^ — subjoining his own remarks on eacli part. The translation is made from the " Acts" of the Synod published by authority, in a Latin quarto volume: a work which, it is worthy of remark, is never alluded to by either Mosheim or his translator Maclaine, though they refer to various other writings, on both sides, apparently of a less authentic character. The following reasons are assigned for the publication before us : 1. '^ That a very interesting and important part of ecclesiastical history has been obscured and overwhelmed with unmerited disgrace, by the mis- representations given of the Synod and its articles, espe- cially in this nation:" 2. That the author wished ^^ to prove, that the doctrines commonly termed Calvinistic, whether they be or be not the doctrines of scriptural Christianity, may yet be so stated and explained, without any skilful and laboured efforts, as to coincide with the strictest practical views of our holy religion, and so as grcotly to encourage and promote genuine holiness:" 3. That '^ in a day when these doctrines are not only pro- scribed in a most hostile manner on one side, but deplo- rably misunderstood and perverted by many on the other side, he desired to add one more testimony against these misapprehensions and perversions, by shewing in what a holy, guarded, and reverential manner the divines of this reprobated Synod stated and explained them, compared with the superficial, incautious, and often unholy and presumptuous manner of too many in the present day :'* 1. That he also ^* desired to make it manifest, that the deviations from the creeds of the reformed churches, in those points wliich are more properly called Calvinistic, is seldom for any length of time kept separate from de- XVIII. ] his' WORKS. 605 viations in those doctrines, which are more generall}' allowed to be essential to vital Christianity.'' 5. That he " purposed, by means of this publication, to leave behind him in print his deliberate judgment on several controverted points ; which (judgment) must otherwise have died with him, or have been published separately, — for which he had no inclination.'' The controverted points referred to, are principally those relating to tole- ration, religious liberty, terms of communion, and other ecclesiastical questions. To his sentiments here deliver- ed on these subjects, we may apply what he himself has said of the kindred ones contained in another publication, to be noticed immediately, they are such as,/ ^ will please the bigots of no party." In this work (page 172,) he delivers a strong opinion on the subject of what is miscalled Catholic emancipation. In the present class we may perhaps range the only separate publication which remains to be noticed : the Letters to the Rev. Peter Roe on Ecclesiastical Establish- ments, adherence to the Church of England, &c. with a Tractate annexed on the Religious Establishment of Israel. The last he esteemed to be novel : at least, he observed, it was quite new to himself. The principle which it chiefly goes to establish is, that the conduct of the pious kings and governors of Judah, — Jehoshaphat, Hezekiah, Josiah, Zerubbabel, Ezra, Nehemiah — in their exertions for promoting religion among those under their command, which are sanctioned by the unqualified approbation of scripture, '^ was not adopted in obedience to any part of the ritual or political law of Moses," but was nothing more than that improvement of their talents, which would be incumbent upon any persons now occupying si- milar stations, and " was intended as an example for kings and princes, professing Christianity, to imitate," That 606 HIS TiiEOLOuv. [Chap. spirit of moderation, which, the writer anticipated, would render these letters distasteful to zealots on all sides, will make them the more acceptahle to fair and reasonable men ; and they will probably be deemed by such persons better suited to plead the cause of the esta- blished church, by their not taking it up upon too high grounds. Besides these works, my father was the author of many detached papers in various periodical publications, some of which are to be found in the fourth volume of his col- lected works ; and a specimen of them has been intro- duced in speaking of the general principle of interpreta- tion adopted in his Commentary. Passing from this review of my father's works to some observations on the general character of his theology, I should say, that its great and distinguishing excellency appears to be — its coinprehensiveness. It embraces, as far perhaps as the infirmity of human nature will per- mit, the whole compass of scripture. Like the father of the faithful, he " walks through the land in the length thereof and in the breadth thereof.'' It would be diffi- cult, I think, to name a writer, who more faithfully and unreservedly brings forward every part of scriptural in- struction in its due place and proportion, and is content upon all of them " to speak as do the oracles of God.'' He sacrifices no one doctrine or principle, nor suffers himself to be restrained in fairly and fully pressing each upon attention, by jealousy for the security and honour of any others. Persuaded that scripture is every where consistent with itself, whether it appears to us to be so or not, he has no ambition to preserve apparent consistency more exactly than the sacred writers have done. Hence he never scruples to unite together those truths of di- vine revelation which to many appear as if they must ex- XVIIL] HIS THEOLOGY. 607 elude one another. He teaches the total inability of fal- len man, unrenewed by divine grace, to render any ac- ceptable obedience to God ; but he never for a moment suffers himself to be entangled in the reasonings of t|iose who would on this ground call in question the obligations of the divine law, or forbear to press upon all men the commands and exhortations, which the sacred scriptures do certainly address to them. He teaches that '^no man can come to Christ except the Father draw him :" yet he feels no hesitation in connecting with this principle, the invitation, '' whosoever will let him come,'' the assu- rance, " him that cometh I will in no wise cast out,'' or the inexcusable guilt of those who " will not come." He believed that God knew whom he had chosen, and that none would eventually attain eternal life, but those whom the Father, by his own purpose and grace, had " given" unto Christ : yet he unequivocally teaches that Christ died for all men, and that none fail of being saved by him, except by their own fault. He asserts with unwavering confidence and zeal, that our justification is altogether free, of grace, through faith, " for the merits of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ alone," and in no degree ^^for our own works or deservings :" yet he equally maintains, that he only " who doeth righteousness is righteous ;" seeing all true faith must and will prove itself by its fruits : and insists that we are still under the law as a rule^ though delivered from it a a cove- nant. He held that all true believers in Christ are " kept by the power of God through faith unto sal- vation," and will certainly persevere unto the end ; and yet that " if any man draw back, God shall have no pleasure in him ;" and that, if we would ever come to heaven w^e must " give diligence to make our calling and election sure.''' G08 HIS THEOLOGY. [ChAP. It is almost needless to observe to how many charges of error on the right hand and the left, this resolute adhercnec to the whole of scriptural instruction would expose him, «it dillVrent times and from different classes of men. The anti-Calvinist reproached him for his Cal- vinism, and the hyper-Calvinist called him an Arminian. The mere moralist trembled for the consequences of his antinoynian doctrine of justification; while numbers in an opposite extreme considered his insisting upon the evidences of faith, and the general strictness of his teach- ing, as legal, engendering a " spirit of bondage/' and involvinif a surrender of the freeness of the gospel, and of the privileges of the believer. He however preached and wrote " straight forward/'' — according to an ex- pression noticed above : (p. 437, 438 :) he constantly moved on in the course which he saw clearly marked out before him, heedless of conflicting charges, which appeared to him evidently directed against the prac- tice of scripture, and not against any unauthorised pe- culiarity of his own. He was fully of opinion, that the church of Christ had ever been grievously infest- ed by sch-emes of divinity, of different kinds, formed by setting up a part, often a small part of divine truth, to the comparative neglect, or even exclusion of the rest : he wished therefore to be constantly com- paring his own theology with the whole of scripture, and could never be satisfied while any part of the di- vine oracles seemed not to obtain its due portion of re- , gard, or to require any force to be put upon it to make it com])ort with his views. Let it not be supposed to be here implied, that he every where, and on all points, attained to a perfect conformity with the word of God : no one could be more sensible than he was of the error and imperfec- XVTIL] HIS THEOLOGY. 609 tion which must ever attend all human attainments. But such as have been descried was his aim — the ob- ject of his incessant study, and unwearied prayers : and the most that is here affirmed is, that he appears to have been a thoroughly scriptural divine, as far perhaps as we can hope to see it granted to the imperfection of human nature to become such. What has been already stated must virtually include every thing else that I can have to observe on his theo- logy : still there are one or two points which I would no- tice more distinctly. I next, therefore, observe that his theology was dis- tinguished by • its highly practical character : — under which term I include not only its sobrity, moderation, and freedom from refinement and speculation, but espe- cially its holy strictness. The reader will, throughout this work, have observed him complaining of the degree of antinomianism, both theoretical and practical, which was prevalent, and against which he accordingly very much directed his efforts, both from the pulpit and the press. What were his views of the antinomian tendency of much public teaching may receive illustration from the extract of a letter inserted in an early part of his history.* It was not merely where tenets positively antinomian were avowed — where the law was denied to be the rule of duty —where indeed " duty" was declared '*' not to be a word for a Christian" — where she trial of our faith by its fruits was discarded — but wherever Christians were left unin- structed in their various duties ; were only told in gene- ral, that they must be holy, while the nature and the particulars of holiness were left unexplained, and little * See page 201. 4H 610 HIS TMKOL0(iY. [ChAP. else than doctrines and privileges were insisted on. In all these cases he thonght the teaching of an antinomiam tendency. Practical antinomianisin also prevailed, according to his view of things, not only where men were dishonest or licentions under a religious profession, (though many such flagrant instances existed.) but wherever worldli- ness of mind, luxury, unchristian tempers, the neglect of relative duties, or a slothful and self-indulgent omission of the proper improvement of talents, was allowed under a profession of religion. — He found when he entered upon his course, throughout a great part of the religious world, repentance little insisted upon, — faith represented as very much consisting in personal assurance, — religious professors in general, with little previous incpiiry, en- couraged and even urged to keep up a good opinion of their own safe state (as it must indeed be every man's duty to do, if such be the nature of faith ;) — the evidence of holv fruits but dubiously recpiired in order to warrant any man's confidence concerning himself — the love of God resolved into little more than incre gratitude for benefits assumed to have been received (which is easily excited under such a system, upon very fallacious grounds ; ) — y)articular duties not at all dwelt upon— invitations and exhortations very much neglected, even where their propriety was not called in cpiestion. It need not here be said how directly he opposed himself to the whole of this scheme : how he insisted on " repentance, and fruits meet for repentance ;'' on the sanctifying effects of all true faith, l)y which alone its'existence can be proved ; on reconciliation to the divine holiness, hw, and government, as well as gratitude for mercies received ; and on all the de- tail of duty — fully and particularly laying open the divine law in its strictness and extent, both for the conviction of the Xnil.j HIS THEOLOGY. 611 sinner, and for the information of the Christian believer^ ^^ how in all things he ought to walk and to please God/' He spoke much of the necessity o{ distinguishing preach- ing ; which should, as clearly as possible, discriminate not only truth from error in doctrine, but the genuine from the spurious in Christian experience, and the so\ind character from the unsound, among 'persons professing godliness. In this way he commenced, and he persever- ed to the end — " abounding more and more ;'' and he Hved to see, under God's blessing, his exertions crowned with great and extensive success. But, lastly, though highly practical, the whole of his theology was also strongly evangelical: — which term I here use in no sense that any person of common fairness can call sectarian. I mean by it, that the great truths relating to our redemption, and the promises of mercy and grace made to us in Jesus Christ, were ever promi- nent in his own mind, and in the wliole of his instruc- tions. He never lost sight of them ; he never threw them into shade : he could not do it : he had that constant and deep sense of their necessity, as the support of his own hopes, and the source of all his strength and vigour for every duty, which would have effectually prevented his keeping them back, or proposing them timide geli- deque, even if he had not been on principle so decidedly opposed as he was to stich a line of conduct. He held, as Bishop Burnett also did, that not even a single ser- mon should fail of so far developing the principles of the gospel, as distinctly to point out the way of salvation to the awakened and inquiring conscience : and that this w^ould easily be done, by a mind as fully inbued as it should be with Christian truths, without doing any vio- lence to the particular subject under discussion, or even 612 HIS THEOLOGY, [ChAP^ infringing; the rules of good composition. And, so far from thinking that a tendency towards an antinomian abiise of the truths of the gos])el was to be counteracted by a jealous, timid, scanty, reluctant exhibition of them, he was decidedly of opinion, that nothing gave more ad- vantage to corrupt teachers, than such a plan ; which enabled them to appeal to their hearers, that they could be opposed only by a concealment of the fundaniental truths of the gospel. He would guard these truths, not by keeping them back, but only by proposing them in connexion with all the other truths with which they stand combined in scripture. But a letter, already in- serted, may speak his sentiments upon this subject.* — And if the testimony of another witness be at all called for, we may adduce that of a late venerable person, re- peatedly alluded to in this work, Mr. Richardson of York. Writing of him only a few days before his own death, Mr. R. says, " I had the highest respect for that most useful, laborious, and honest man. He was always practical, but never tampered with the doctrines of grace, which he taught clearly and fully. He is a safe guide, never fanciful, never running into extremes." On the last head, of practical strictness, a hope was expressed, that an improvement had taken place among many of the class of persons called evangelical, since my father commenced his ministry : on the present, may there not be room to suggest a caution, lest we, who have been brought up in familiarity with those great truths, which burst upon some of our predeccssoi^ with all the impression of a first discovery, should exhibit them less vividly, and press them less earnestly^ than our fathers * See page 198* XVIII.] CONCLUSION. 615 did ; lest the gospel of Christ should be diluted^ and so far at least adulterated in our hands? Having thus accomplished the task which devolved on me, of giving to the public as full and faithful an account, as I was able, of my ever dear and honoured father's life — in doing which I have certainly enjoyed great pleasure, though attended with considerable anxiety, — I shall now take leave of the reader by offering a few reflections on what has passed in review before us. 1 . When I turned from the solemnities of my father's dying chamber, the following thoughts, among many others, forcibly suggested themselves to my mind. ^^ Who could stand and witness that scene, without being impressed with the reality and magnitude of those objects which engrossed all his thoughts : about which he had always been deeply in earnest, but which now called forth in him an earnestness greater than ever ? " Who could contemplate his spirit and temper, the vigour 'and fervency of his mind, the holy affections which he manifested, and the ardour with which he as- pired to a higher state, without /' workmen that need not to be ashamed.'' — Yet how greatly is it wanting even among our more serious and pious clergy ! I speak with a painfu Isense of my own deficiencies, in this respect ; though without affecting to think them greater than those of niany around me. If the perusal of my fathers his- tory might promote, among the younger members of the clerical profession, a deep study of the whole sacred vol XVIII.] CONCLUSION. 619 ume, and, through life, a constant comparison of all they read and hear with its contents, I can conceive of no re- sult which it would have given him greater pleasure to contemplate. 4. Lastly : I have already pointed it out, as an impor- tant lesson suggested by my father's history, to those who, amid the difficulties of this world, are striving to do good, especially in the work of the ministry, — that a course, which is deeply painful and discouraging at the time, may, and, if well supported, assuredly will, prove highly use- ful in the event. That my father's usefulness was great^ and is likely still to be so, I now assume. Yet that his course was, during the far greater part of its duration, painful and discouraging in no common degree, is well known to those who had the opportunity of taking a near view of it, and must be evident to all, who have duly es- timated the neglect or opposition he encountered at 01- ney ; the severer and more protracted conflicts at the Lock, maintained against prevailing evils, and under the pressure of most disheartening unpopularity ; and the dif- ficulties with which he had to struggle, more or less, for five and twenty years together, in giving his Commentary on the Bible to the world. Yet all has had such an issue, as may justly add confidence to the faith, and animation to the hope of every true soldier and servant of Jesus Christ. In encountering difficulties, and suffering dis- couragement, in our labours of zeal for God and love to mankind, we are but followers of " those, who through faith and patience, — having done the will of God,— now^ inherit his promises." Prophets and apostles have trod this path before us : and assuredly what we have to en- counter, compared with what they overcame, is such as may more justly subject us, if we be " weary and ftunt in our minds,'' to the reproof which was addressed to one G20 CONCLUSION. [Chap. XVIII. of tlicir number : ^^ It' thou hast run with the footmen and thev have wearied thee, what wilt thou do if thou shalt contend with horses?" — Even the Son of God, is pro- phetically represented as tempted to say, while he so- journed amongs us, '^ I have laboured in vain and spent mv strength for naught :'' but he instantly subjoins, (thus setting us the perfect example of resignation and trust in his heavenly Father,) ^^ Nevertheless my work is with the Lord, and my judgment is with my God." Let us then assuredly believe, that, in our labours for others, as well as in our care for our own personal salvation, '^ He thatgoeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him." And in this confidence let us endeavour, after the example of the servant of God, whose unweari- ed exertions, continued to the end of a long life, we have been contemplating, to be " steadfast, unmovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord ; forasmuch as we know that our labour is not in vain in the Lord." Amen! MEMOIR. 621 A BRIEF MEMOIR OF MR. SCOTT^S ELDEST DAUGHTER, WHO DIED AT WESTON UNDERWOODj IN MAY 1780 ; Annexed by him to his JSTarrative of his oivn Life. " In a former part of this narrative I just mentioned the death of my eldest daughter, aged four years and a half, and I shall here subjoin a few more particulars respecting her. — At the age of three years and a half she had a most extraordinary and dis- tressing illness, so that for several weeks she could not be indu- ced to take either medicine or nutriment of any kind, but what was poured down her throat almost by rtiain force. I had little expectation of her recovery : but I was under a full and deep conviction that all the human race are born in sin, and are ut- terly incapable of happiness hereafter, without regeneration and renovation by the Holy Spirit. This, if actually wrought in child- hood, I was satisfied would begin to shew itself about the time when children become actual sinners by personal and wilful trans- gression : and I was fully assured that she had become an actual sinner. Seeing therefore no ground to believe that any gracious change had taken place in her, I was greatly distressed about her eternal state : and I repeatedly and most earnestly besought the Lord that he would not take her from me, without affording me some evidence of her repentance, and faith in his mercy through Jesus Christ. " To the surprise of all she recovered, and lived just another year. Half of this year was remarkable for nothing, except the proofs which she gave of a very good understanding, and the readiness with which she learned whatever was taught her. In- deed she almost taught herself to read ; and was so much the as- tonishment of our neighbours, that they expressed a persuasion that she would not live long— which I treated with contempt. But about the middle of the year, on my return home one even- ing, my wife told me that her daughter had behaved very ill, and been so rebellious and obstinate, that she had been constrain- iV22 MEMOIK. cd to correct her. In consequence I took her between my knees, and bej^an to talk to her. I told her she had often heard that she was a sinner a.e^ainst God : that sin was breaking the com- mandments of God : that he had commanded her to honour and obey her father and mother; but that she had disobeyed her mother, and thus sinned against God and made him angry at her — far more angry than her mother had been : that she had also often heard that she must have a new heart or disposition ; that, if her heart or disposition were not wicked, she would not thus want a new one ; but that her obstinate rebellious conduct to her mother (with some other instances which I mentioned,) shewed that her heart was wicked : that she therefore wanted both forgiveness of sins and a new heart, without which she could not be happy in another world, after death. I went on to talk with her, in language suited to her age, concerning the love, and mercy, and grace, of Christ, in a manner which I cannot now particularly describe : but my heart was much engaged, and out of the abundance of my hearty my mouth afioke : and I con- cluded with pressing it upon her constantly to pray to Jesus Christ to forgive her sin ; to give' her a new heart ; and not to let her die till he had indeed done so. " I have good ground to believe that, from that time to her death, no day passed in which she did not, alone, more than once, and with apparent earnestness, pray to Jesus Christ to this effect ; adding petitions for her father, mother, and brothers, and for her nurse — to whom she was much attached. At times we overheard her in a little room to which she used to retire ; and on some occasions her prayers were accompanied with sobs and tears. Once she was guilty of an untruth ; and I rea- soned and expostulated with her on the wickedness of lying. I almost seem now to hear her subsequent confessions in her re- tirement; her cries for forgiveness; her prayers for a new and better heart ; and that she might not not die ' before her new heart came.' She could scarcely proceed for sobs and tears. — In short there was every thing in miniature, which I ever wit- nessed or read of in an adult penitent : and certainly there were fruits meet for refientance ; for nothing reprehensible afterwards occurred in her conduct. " Just at this time the Olney Hymns were published : and, without any one putting her up on it, she got many of them by MEMOIR. 623 heart ; and for some months the first voice, which I heard in the morning, was her's, repeating these hymns, and those of Dr. Watts : and frequently she would come to me to tell me what a beautiful hymn she had found, and then repeat it without book. " I might recite many of her sayings, which, parental partiality apart, I must think surpassed what I have heard from one so young. The favourite servant, who has been mentioned, some- times used the name of God or Lord in an improper manner, and the child would affectionately remonstrate with her, and say, ' Do not use such words, Kitty : you will certainly go to hell if you say such naughty words.' She evidently understood the great out- lines of the plan of salvation. ' Papa,' she said, ' you preached to-day concerning the Lamb's blood.' I answered, ' What does that mean ?' She replied, *The blood of Jesus Christ, the Lamb of God which taketh away the burden of sin out of our hearts.' — The day preceding her death, she read to me a chapter in St, John, in which the Jews charged Jesus with breaking the sabbath. On this she paused and said, * Papa, did Jesus Christ ever break the sabbalh ?' I answered ' No : but he did good on the sabbath- day, and his enemies called that breaking the sabbath.' ' I thought so,' she said : ' Jesus was always good ; but we are all naughty till he makes us good. Peter was a good man : but Peter was naughty till Jesus Christ made him good.' " When any minister or pious friend carrie to see me, no play or amusement would draw her away from us when our conversa- tion was on religious topics. She would stand fixed in attention, and evidently interested in what was said. She seldom spoke on these occasions ; but she would sometimes ask me questions afterwards on what she had heard. "The day before she died the Rev. Mr. Powley of Dewsbury, in Yorkshire, (who had married Mrs. Unwin's daughter,) had engaged to come to see me, and to preach in the evening. After dinner I employed myself, as I frequently did, in sawing wood for fuel. She came and prattled with me, and several times by degrees got so near me, that I feared the large pieces of wood would fall on her. I sent her further off: yet still, intent on our talk, she crept near again, till at length a very large log, which could scarcely have failed to kill her, had it fallen upon her, rolled down, and only just missed her. While very thankful for her pre- servation, little did I think that a very few hours would deprive me of my darling child. &2i MEMOIK. ** I had scarcely got into the house to prepare for my visitant, when she came to me and said, ' I am very sick : what must I do ?' I said, 'you must pray for patience.' She asked, ' What is pa- tience ?' and before I could answer, she was so ill that she could only go into the next room to the servant, where the most violent symptoms followed. As I was engaged with my friend, and with the preaching, havingordered her some medicines, I did not see her for several hours : but when I did I was fully convinced that her sickness was fatal. Some further means were used, but wholly without effect; and she expired at ten o'clock the next morning, while repeating the Lord's prayer, the concluding words of which were the last she spoke. " Her disorder was an attack of scarlet fever, which Dr. Kerr stated to be of a very peculiar kind, and that the case was hope- less from the first. I had attended fifty or sixty persons in that disease, and all recovered except my own child. " She died on the Thursday morning, and on the next evening at my lecture at Ravenstone, where I had undertaken to preach through part of the book of Job, the text which came in course ■was Job i. 21 — T/ie Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away : Blessed be the name of the Lord I and on this I preached not- withstanding the death of my child. It would be in vain to at- tempt to describe either my anguish or my exultation on this trying, yet animating occasion. Sorrow and joy succeeded each other in the highest degree, and often in the most raj)id manner, that I ever experienced : and sometimes they were pathetically, dolefully, yet sweetly intermingled. Prayer and thanksgiving seemed my main employment. I never obtained such a victory over the fear of death as by looking, for a long time together, on her corpse. Gradually sorrow abated, and joy prevailed ; and I often said, I would not exchange my dead child for any living child in the world of the same age. Some have told me that her religious turn was only the effect of her hearing so much on the subj(;ct, and had nothing so extraordinary in it : but I never could see any thing of the same kind in my other children at so early an age, nor till they were much older; though they had at least the same advantages." THE END.