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PRINCETON, N. J.
BR 1700 .M66 1837 v. 3 c^. 2
<-' Montgomery, James, 1771-
S. 1854.
^ The Christian correspondent
A DONATION
FROM
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<^«cr:*5^C^ ^KSi'
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THE
CHRISTIAN CORRESPONDENT.
THE
CHRISTIAN CORRESPONDENT
LETTEES,
PRIVATE AND CONFIDENTIAL,
BV
EMINENT PERSONS OF BOTH SEXES;
EXEMPLIFYING THE
FRUITS OF HOLT LIVING, AND THE BLESSEDNESS
OF HOLY DYING.
WITH A PRELIMINARY ESSAY BY
JAMES MONTGOMERY, ESQ.
" His letters," my they, " are weighty and powerful.— Such as we are
in word, by letters when we are absent, such will we be also in deed when
we are present."— 2 Cor. x. 10, 11.
IN THREE VOLS.
VOL. III.
SECOND EDITION.
LONDON:
PRINTED FOR WILLIAM BALL,
ALDINE CHAMBERS,
PATERNOSTER ROW.
1837.
LOKDOK :
JOSEPH RICKERBY, PRINTER,
SHERBOURN LANE.
CONTENTS OF VOL. III.
PART VI.
TUttttxs of 'atiijice, "^Expostulation, Bcproof, $rc.
SECTION I.
Letters of a more genej-al Character under this head,
LETTER PAGE
301. Noble letter of Queen Ann Boleyn to Henry VIII., shortly before her
execution ... ... ... ... ... 1
302. Archbishop Usher, on behalf of a poor man, to an oppressive Noble-
man ... ... ... ... ... ... 4
303. Letter of Lady Rachel Russell to Dean Tillotson, urging him, in com-
pliance with the king's desire, to accept the archbishopric ... 5
304. William Penn to his Wife and Children. Farewell counsel on his
lea\'ing England ... ... ... ... ... 7
305. Dr. Doddridge to his young friend. Miss Jennings, pointing out certain
defects of temper and character ... ... ... 13
306. Dr. Doddridge to Sir John R n, expostulating Avith him on his pro-
faneness ... ... ... ... ... 18
307- Rev. John Newton to Rev. Mr. R . Advice on the subject of ma-
trimony ... ... ... ... ... 21
308. William Cowper, Esq. to Rev. W. Unwin, on a case which his friend
had proposed to him. — The resolute \'indication of personal rights
not inconsistent with the spirit of meekness which the gospel en-
joins ... ... ... ... ... ... 24
309. Rev. T. Scott to his Sister, expostulating with her, on account of her
unkind treatment of him, after the great change which had taken
place in his religious views ... ... ... ... 27
310. Rev. Henry Martyn to Mr. Corrie, expostulating OTth him on his im-
prudent zeal ... ... ,.. ... ... 30
SECTION II.
Lettei'S administering Spiritual Counsel and Encouraf;ement, ^c,
311. Letter of Archbishop Cranmer to Mistress Wilkinson, exhorting her
to " flee in the time of persecution, and to seek her dwelling where
she might serve God according to his word." ... ... 32
VOL. III. a
IV CONTENTS.
LETTER PAGE
312. John Bradford to his Mother and Brethren.— A martyr's dying coun-
sel to the persecuted ... ... ... ... 34
313. John Bradford to Lord Russell, on the same subject ... ... 38
314. John Bradford to Master Warcup and his Wife, on the same occasion 41
315. John Bradford to Dr. Hill, physician, on the same occasion ... 45
316. John Bradford to one in spiritual distress.—" A letter full of godly
comfort" ... ... ... ... ... 50
317. John Bradford to Mrs. J. Harrington, " exhorting her to be patient
under the cross, and not to fear death" ... ... ... 52
318. William Tyndal, the translator of the Bible, to John Frith, while
prisoner in the Tower ... ... ... ... 58
319. Rev. S. Rutherford to the Lady Earlstone ... ... ... 61
320. Rev. S. Rutherford to the Lady Kenmuire ... ... ... 62
321. John Evelyn, Esq. to the Countess of Sunderland ... ... 64
322. Dr. Henry More to a Friend ... ... ... ... 65
323. Jeremy Taylor to John Evelyn, Esq., after a pleasant A-isit to his cor-
respondent at Says-court ... ... ... ... 68
324. Dr. Doddridge to Mrs. Banks, on the advantages of regularity in the
exercises of devotion ; and on the best mode of discharging them 70
325. Dr. Doddridge to Miss Scott, a friend iu deep spiritual distress ... 74
326. Rev. George Whitfield to Mrs. D ... ... ... 79
327. JohnV.esley to Mr. Knox, expostulating with him on apparent de-
clension of religious zeal ... ... ... ... 80
328. John Wesley to Mr. Blackwell ... ... ... ... 83
329. John Wesley to Miss ... ... ... ... 84
330. John \^ esley to Miss , on her coming into possession of a large
fortune ... ... ... ... ... ... 86
331. John Wesley to a Lady ; a member of the Society ... ... 88
332. John Wesley to the Same ... ... ... ... 89
333. John Wesley to the Same. Business no hinderance to devotion ... 90
334. Re\-. John Newton a Nobleman.— A very fanciful thought turned to
excellent account ... ... ... ... ... 92
335. Rev. John Newton to Miss M ... ... ... 97
336. Rev. John Newton to Mr. W , after a season of severe affliction ... 100
337- Rev. John Newton to Mr. W ... . . . ... 103
33a Rev. John Newton to Mr. Cowper ... ... ... ... 104
339. Rev. John Newton to Miss W . Intended for her birth-day ... 1(6
340. Rev. Richard Cecil to his Wife, on the necessity of ha\Tng fixed hours
for devotion ... ... ... ... ... 110
341. Rev. T. Scott to a Friend, who had sought his advice on the topics re-
ferred to in the commencement of the letter ... ... 112
342. Miss H. More to a Friend. How to live " in the world," and not be
" 0/ the world." ... ... ... ... ... 114
343. Rev. Robert Hall to a Friend in deep perplexity, as to his religious
state ... ... ... ... ... ... 117
344. Rev. Robert Hall to a Friend, under similar circumstances ... 119
345. Mrs. Newell to a Friend, upon the death of a sister ... ... 121
346. Henry Kirke White to Mr. K. Swann ... ... ... 124
CONTENTS.
SECTION Til.
Admonitory Letters to the Apostate, Backsliding, and Unbelieving.
I/KTTKB PAGE
347. Laurence Saunders, the martyr, to an Apostate from the truth ... 125
348. Lady Jane Grey to Master Harding, who had recently recanted to Po-
pery, and afterwards became the opi>onent of Jewel ... ... 129
349. John Hooper, Bishop of Gloucester, " to one that was fallen from the
kno\Vn truth of the gospel to antichrist and his damnable reli-
gion." ... ... ... ... ... ... 137
350. Rev. George Whitfield to a repentant Backslider, who had written to
unfold to him his state of mind ... ... ... 140
351. Rev. John Newton to an Infidel ... ... ... ... 142
352. From the Same to the Same,— On the same subject ... ... 147
SECTION IV.
Letters of Advice to the Young, from Parents, c^-c. ^c.
353. Cecil, Lord Burleigh's advice to his son, Robert Cecil ... ... 153
354. Sir Henry Sidney to his son, Philip Sidney, (then twelve years of age,)
at school at Shrewsbuiy ... ... ... ... 160
355. Sir Matthew Hale to his Son ... ... ... ... 163
356. Philip Henry to his youngest Daughter, on a proposal of marriage
made to her ... ... ... ... ... 164
357. Lady Russell to her son, the young Duke of Bedford ... ... 167
358. Lady Anne Fanshawe to her Son ... ... ... .., 172
359. Mr. Isaac Watts (father of Dr. Watts) to his Children. Written when
in prison ... ... ... ... ... 177
360. Rev. Thomas Halyburton to his Nephew, on his death-bed ... 180
361. Jonathan Edwards to his daughter. Miss Mary Edwards ... 183
362. Rev. John Newton to a young Friend about to leave his country ... 186
363. Rev. James Hervey to a young Brother, on his being about to be ap-
prenticed ... ... ... ... ... 190
364. Rev. John Newton to his adopted Child ... ... ... 197
365. , Rev. Richard CecU to his Son .. ... ... ... 200
366. Christian Frederick Swartz, the missionar}', to the Son of his deceased
friend. Colonel Wood ... ... ... ... 201
367. Rev. Claudius Buchanan, when in India, to his two young Daughters
in England, after their mother's death, who died at sea, on the
voyage to rejoin her husband ... ... ... ... 203
368. Mrs. Susan Huntington to her Son, at Andover ... ... 204
SECTION V.
Lettet-s from or to Mini-stei's, on various intei'esting Points connected with the
ministerial and pastoral Functions.
369. Bishop Gibson to Dr. Watts. " A word " always " in season, to mi-
370. Rev. John Newton to a Nobleman. Important remarks on pastoral
visits to the sick and dying. Practical proofs they afford of the
truth of the gospeL Important lessons they are calculated to
teach ... ... ... ... ... ... 207
VI CONTEMTS.
LETTER PAGE
371. Rev. John Newton to the Rev. Mr. S. , a minister suffering from
depression of spirits, and complaining of the ill success of his la-
bours ... ... ... ... ... ... 213
372. Re\'. John Newton to the Rev. Mr. S . Caution and encourage-
ment ... ..*. ... ... ... ... 21(5
.373. Rev. John Newton to the Rev. Mr. S . A letter of reproof, caution,
and encouragement ... ... ... ... 222
374. Rev. John Newton to the Rev. Mr. B . Caution reepecting allego-
rical interpretation of the Scripture ... ... ... 22ii
.375. Rev. Job Orton to the Rev. Thomas Stedman. A second curacy valua-
ble for a somewhat unusual reason.— Thoughts on preaching.—
Advantages of addressing a country congregation, &c. ... 232
376. Rev. Job Orton to the Rev. Thomas Stedman. Thoughts on pastoral
\'isiting and preaching ... ... ... ... 237
377. Rev. Job Orton to the Rev. Thomas Stedman. Advantages of a coun-
try charge. Encouragement under a sense of ill success. Best
modes of reproving vice, and disarming opposition ... ... 241
378. Rev. Job Orton to the Rev. Thomas Stedman. —Various useful
hints ... ... ... ... ... ... 245
379. Rev. Job Orton to the Rev. Thomas Stedman. — Excuses for not writ-
ing punctually. A troublesome choh- at church. A ^-aluable con-
solation in age. Useful hints ... ... ... 248
380. Rev. Job Orton to the Rev. Thomas Stedman. — What familiar letters
ought to be. On what day Sermons should Ho^ be made, &c. ... 252
381. Rev. Dr. Stonehouse to the Re^'. Thomas Stedman. Antidotes to the
love of popularity. A worthy rector. A contented old age. Man-
ner of Her^-ey as a preacher ... ... ... ... 256
382. Re\-. Dr. Stonehouse to the Rev. Thomas Stedman. — Letter of counsel
from a rector to his curate . ... ... ... ... 259
383. William Cowper, esq. to the Rev. John Newton.— Beautiful remarks
on pulpit style. Simplicity distinguished from ^-ulgarity ... 203
384. William Cowper, esq. to the Rev. John Newton. " No man scolded
out of his sins." Tenderness necessarj- in a minister ... 265
385. Rev. Claudius Buchanan to the Hev. Dr. BrowTie ... ... 266
.3fi6. Alexander Knox, esq. to the Rev. John Jebb, (afterwards Bishop of
Limerick.) Some admirable obsen-ations in reply to his corres-
pondent's question, " AVhat Christian preaching should be ?" ... 271
387. Rev. John Jebb to Alexander Knox, esq. — The advantages of a small
charge ; especially with reference to more extensive ultimate use-
fulness ... ... ... ... ... ... 281
38a Mr. Knox'sreply ... ... ... ... ... 283
389. William Cowper, esq. to the Rev. J. Newton ... .. ... 285
CONTENTS. Vll
PART VII.
_0tisceHancous betters.
LETTER PAGE
390. Archbishop Leighton to a Friend. Who are the most perfect Chris-
tians 289
391. Richard Baxter to the Earl of Lauderdale, in reply to offers of consi-
derable preferment, if he woiild accompany him to Scotland.
Illustrati\e of his cliaracter, and supplying a curious picture of
his circumstances at that time ... ••• ••• 29<)
392. John Evelyn to Sir Samuel Tuke. Condolence on the loss of his wife.
Account of the fire of London ... ... ... 294
393. Daniel De Foe to his son-in-law, Mr. Baker. One of the most affect-
ing letters ever written ... ... ••• ••• ^97
394. John Locke to Mr. Molyneux. A striking testimony to the complete-
ness and excellence of the moral system of the gospel ... 301
.395. Bishop Warburton to Dr. Doddridge. On the perusal of the first vo-
lume of the Family Expositor ... ... ••• 303
396. Bishop Warburton to Dr. Doddridge. A curious account of his own
habits .. ... ... ... ... - 304
397- Bishop Warburton to Dr. Doddridge, after a visit at his house ... 307
398. Dr. Doddridge to the Rev. B. Fawcett. Dr. Doddridge's character of
Lady Huntingdon. A striking incident ... ••• 308
399. Mr. Barker to Dr. Doddridge. Beautiful character of the latter ... 311
400. Dr. Doddridge to Mr. Hughes. Thoughts on retirement and publicity 312
401. Rev. Augustus Toplady to Ambrose Serle, Esq. Singular incident ... 315
402. Rev. Augustus Toplady to Mrs. Macauley. A curious interview ... 317
403. Rev. Augustus Toplady to Mr. H , after hearing Theophilus Lind-
sey
404. Rev- John Newton to Mr. W . The great Physician — 321
405. Rev. John Newton to the Rev. Mr. R Fanatical abuse of Scrip-
ture exposed and condemned ... ... ... ••• 323
406. Rev. John Newton to the Rev. Mr. B . The \-irtue of an if ... 325
407. Rev. Job Orton to the Rev. T. Stedman. Singular causes for thank-
fulness ;... ... ... ... ... - -^26
408. Dr. Johnson to Mr. Boswell, while at Utrecht ... — 327
409. Dr. Johnson to Mrs. Thrale. A well-deser\-ed rebuke. The change
which the approach of death produces in our views of eternity 331
410. Dr. E. Young (author of the Night Thoughts) to Mr. Richardson. In
the prospect of speedy dissolution ... ... •■• 332
411. Dr. Young to Mr. Richardson, under the same circumstances ... 334
412. William Cowper, Esq. to Lady Hesketh. Character of too many who
profess Christianity. Beauty and sublimity of the language of
the Scriptures ... ... ... 335
413. William Cowper, Esq. to Lady Hesketh. Remarks on PearsaU's Me-
ditations. Character and effects of faith ... ... 338
414. William Cowper, Esq. to Mrs. Cowper. On the probability of our
knowing each other in heaven ... ... — 340
415. William Cowper, Esq. to Mrs. Cowper, on the same subject ... 343
319
Vni CONTENTS.
LETTER PAGE
416. William Cowper, Esq. to Mrs. Cowper, on the same subject ... 347
417. William Cowper, Esq. to the Rev. W. Unwin. Obsen-ations on reli-
gious characters ... ... ... ... ... 350
418. William Cowper, Esq. to the Rev. W. Unwin. Remonstrance on the
subject of Sunday routs ... ... ... ... 352
4].<). William Cowper, Esq. to the Rev. W. Unwin. Thoughts on diviife
Pro\-idence. Remarkable deliverance from peril ... ... .353
420. WiUiam Cowper, Esq. to the Rev. W. Unwin ... ... 355
421. Mrs. Hannah More to Mrs. Carter. Pride in strange places. Talent
without principle ... ... ... ... ... 357
422. Rev. Dr. Carey to the Rev. Andrew Fuller, some time after the fire at
Serampore in 1812, at the Missionary' Printing-Cffices, which,
besides destroying much \-aluable property, consumed the labours
of years. An illustration of missionary energy ... ... 3G0
423. Rev. Dr. Morrison, Chinese Missionary, to Dr. Clunie of Mancliester;
^mtten only eight days before his death. The catholicity of a
true missionary spirit ... ... ... ... 301
PART VI.
LETTERS OF ADVICE, EXPOSTULATION,
REPROOF, &c.
PART VI.
LETTERS OF ADVICE, EXPOSTULATION,
SECTION L
LETTERS OF A MORE GENERAL CHARACTER UNDER
THIS HEAD.
LETTER CCCI.
Noble letter of Queen Ann Boleyn to Henry VIIL, shortly
before her execution.
Sir,
Your grace's displeasure and my imprisonment
are things so strange unto me, as what to write, or
what to excuse, I am altogether ignorant: whereas
you send unto me (willing me to confess a truth,
and so to obtain your favour) by such an one
whom you know to be mine ancient professed
enemy, I no sooner received this message by him,
than I rightly conceived your meaning; and if, as
you say, confessing a truth indeed may procure
my safety, I shall with all willingness and duty
perform your command.
VOL. III. B
2 ANN BOLEYN.
But let not your grace ever imagine that your
poor wife will be ever brought to acknowledge a
fault, where not so much as a thought thereof pro-
ceeded. And to speak a truth, never prince had
wife more loyal in all duty, and in all true affec-
tion, than you have ever found in Ann Boleyn,
with which name and place I could willingly have
contented myself, if God, and your grace's pleasure
had been so pleased. Neither did I at any time so
far forget myself in my exaltation, or received
queenship, but that I always looked for such an
alteration as now I find ; for the ground of my
preferment being on no surer foundation than your
grace's fancy, the least alteration, I knew was fit
and sufficient to draw that fancy to some other
subject. You have chosen me, from a low estate,
to be your queen and companion, far beyond my
desert or desire. If then you found me worthy of
such honour, good your grace, let not any light
fancy, or bad counsel of mine enemies, withdraw
your princely favour from me; neither let that
stain, that unworthy stain of a disloyal heart towards
your good grace, ever cast so foul a blot on your
most dutiful wife, and the infant princess your
daughter; try me, good king, but let me have a
lawful trial, and let not my sworn enemies sit as
my accusers and judges ; yea, let me receive an
open trial, for my truth shall fear no open shame ;
then shall you see, either mine innocency cleared,
your suspicion and conscience satisfied, the igno-
miny and slander of the world stopped, or my guilt
openly declared. So that whatsoever you or God
ANN BOLEYN. O
may determine of me, your grace may be freed from
an open censure ; and mine offence being so law-
fully proved, your grace is at liberty both before
God and man, not only to execute worthy punish-
ment on me, as an unlawful wife, but to follow
your, affection, already settled on that party, for
whose sake I am now as I am, whose name I could
some good while since have pointed unto ; your
grace being not ignorant of my suspicion therein.
But, if you have already determined of me, and
that not only my death, but an infamous slander
mast bring you the enjoying of your desired happi-
ness ; then I desire of God, that he will pardon
your great sin therein, and likewise mine enemies,
the instruments thereof; and that he will not call
you to a strict account of your unprincely and
cruel usage of me, at his general judgment-seat,
where both you and myself must shortly appear,
and in whose judgment I doubt not (whatsoever
the world may think of me) mine innocence shall
be openly known and sufficiently cleared.
My last and only request shall be, that myself
may only bear the burthen of your grace's dis-
pleasure, and that it may not touch the innocent
souls of those poor gentlemen, who (as I under-
stand) are likewise in strait imprisonment for my
sake. If ever I have found favour in your sight ;
if ever the name of Ann Boleyn hath been pleasing
in your ears, then let me obtain this request; and
I will so leave to trouble your grace any further,
with mine earnest prayers to the Trinity, to have
your grace in his good keeping, and to direct you
b2
ARCHBISHOP U8HER.
in all your actions. From my doleful prison in the
Tower this 6th of May.
Your most loyal and ever faithful wife,
Ann Boleyn.
LETTER CCCTT.
Archbishop Usher, on behalf of a poor man, to an oppres-
sive Nobleman.
I am much ashamed to receive such petitions
against you. Have you never read, that the un-
righteous, and he that doeth wrong, shall not in-
herit the kingdom of God ? Think there is a God
who heareth the cry of the poor, and may bring a
rot upon your flocks, and curse every thing you put
your hand to. And, if you think not of him, be-
cause you see him not (although he sees you
through and through) yet believe your own eyes,
and consider that he hath appointed his deputies
upon earth, the higher powers, which will not suffer
the poor to be oppressed by you or those that are
greater than you. For shame, therefore, give con-
tent to this petitioner, that you hear not of this in
a place where your face must blush, and your ears
tingle at the hearing of it.
J. A.
LADY RACHEL RUSSELL. O
LETTER CCCIII.
Letter of Lady Rachel Russell to Dean Tillotson,
urging him, in compliance with the king's desire, to accept the
archbishopric.
About the middle of October, 1690.
Your letters will never trouble me, Mr. Dean ; on
the contrary, they are comfortable refreshments to
my, for the most part, overburdened mind, which
both by nature and by accident, is made so weak,
that I cannot bear, with that constancy I should, the
losses I have lately felt. I can say, " friends and
acquaintances thou hast hid out of my sight," but
I liope it shall not disturb ray peace. These were
young, and as they had begun their race of life
after me, so I desired they might have ended it
also. But happy are those whom God retires in
bis grace; — I trust these were so ; and then no age
can be amiss : to the young it is not too early, nor
to the aged too late. Submission and prayer is
all we know that we can do towards our own relief
in our distresses, or to disarm God's anger, either in
our public or private concerns. The scene will
soon alter to that peaceful and eternal home in
prospect. But in this time of pilgrimage, vicissi-
tudes of all sorts are every one's lot. And this
leads me to your case, sir.
The time seems to be come that you must put
anew in practice that submission, {^) you have so
(') This alludes to his letter to Lord Russell a little before
his death, on the subject of non-resistance.
6 LADY RACHEL RUSSELL.
powerfully both tried yourself, and instructed
others to : I see no place to escape at; you must
take up the cross and bear it : I faithfully believe
it has the figure of a very heavy one to you, though
not from the cares of it; since, if the king guesses
right, you toil more now ; but this work is of your
own choosing, and the dignity of the other is what
you have bent your mind against, and the strong re-
solve of your life has been to avoid it. Had this even
proceeded to a vow, it is, I think, like Qhat of] the
virgins* of old, to be dissolved by the father of your
country. Again, though contemplation, and a few
friends well chosen, would be your grateful choice,
yet, if charity, obedience, and necessity call you
into the great world, and where enemies encompass
round about, must not you accept it ? And each
of these, in my mean apprehension, determines
you to do it. In short, it will be a noble sacrifice
you will make, and I am confident you will find as
a reward, kind and tender supports, if you do take
the burden upon you : there is, as it were, a com-
manding Providence in the manner of it. Perhaps
I do as sincerely wish your thoughts at ease as any
friend you have, but I think you may purchase
that too dear; and, if you should come to think so
too, they would then be as restless as before.
Sir, I believe you would be as much a common
good as you can ; consider how few of ability and
integrity this age produces. Pray do not turn this
matter too much in your head: when one has once
turned it every way, you know that more does but
perplex, and one never sees the clearer for it. Be
WILLIAM PENN. 7
not stiff if it be still urged to you. Conform to the
Divine will, which has set it so strongly into the
other's mind, and be content to endure ; it is God
calls you to it. I believe it was wisely said, that
when there is no remedy they (') will give it over,
and make the best of it, and so I hope no ill will
terminate on the king ; and they will lay up their
arrows, when they perceive they are shot in vain at
him or you, upon whom no reflection that I can
think of can be made that is ingenuous ; and what
is pure malice you are above being affected with.
I wish, for many reasons, my prayers were more
worthy, but such as they are, I offer them with a
sincere zeal to the throne of grace for you in this
strait, that you may be led out of it, as shall best
serve the great ends and designs of God's glory.
LETTER CCCIV.
William Penx to his Wife and Childben. Farewell
counsel on his leaving England.
Worminghurst,
Fourth of Sixth month, 1G82.
My dear Wife and Children,
My love, which neither sea, nor land, nor death
itself can extinguish or lessen toward you, most
endearedly visits you with eternal embraces, and
will abide with you for ever ; and may the God of
my life watch over you and bless you, and do you
(') His enemies.
O MILLIAM PENN.
good in this world and for ever ! Some things are
upon my spirit to leave with you in your respective
capacities, as I am to one a husband, and to the
rest a father, if I should never see you more in
this world.
My dear wife ! remember thou wast the love of
my youth, and much the joy of my life ; the most
beloved, as well as most worthy of all my earthly
comforts ; and the reason of that love was more thy
inward than thy outward excellencies, which yet
were many. God knows, and thou knowest it, I
can say it was a match of Providence's making ;
and God's image in us both was the first thing,
and the most amiable and engaging ornament in
our eyes. Now, I am to leave thee, and that with-
out knowing whether I shall ever see thee more in
this world, take my counsel in thy bosom, and let
it dwell with thee in my stead while thou livest.
Let the fear of the Lord, and a zeal and love to
his glory dwell richly in thy heart; and thou wilt
watch for good over thyself, and thy dear children
and family, that no rude, light, or bad thing be
committed : else God will be offended, and he will
repent himself of the good he intends thee and
thine.
And now, my dearest, let me recommend to thy
care, my dear children ; abundantly beloved of
me, as the Lord's blessings, and the sweet pledges
of our mutual and endeared affection. Above all
things endeavour to breed them up in the love of
virtue, and that holy plain way of it which we have
WILLIAM PENN. 9
lived in, that the world in no part of it get into my
family. I had rather they were homely than finely
bred, as to outward behaviour ; yet I love sweet-
ness mixed with gravity, and cheerfulness tempered
with sobriety. Religion in the heart leads into
this true civility, teaching men and women to be
mild and courteous in their behaviour, an accom-
plishment worthy indeed of praise.
Next breed them up in a love one of another :
tell them it is the charge I left behind me ; and
that it is the way to have the love and blessing of
God upon them; also what his portion is, who
hates, or calls his brother fool. Sometimes separate
them, but not long ; and allow them to send and
give each other small things to endear one another
with. Once more I say, tell them it was my coun-
sel they should be tender and affectionate one to
another. For their learning be liberal. Spare no
cost; for by such parsimony all is lost that is
saved; but let it be useful knowledge, such as is
consistent with truth and godliness, not cherishing
a vain conversation or idle mind ; but ingenuity
mixed with industry is good for the body and
mind too. I recommend the useful parts of mathe-
matics, as building houses or ships, measuring,
surveying, dialling, navigation ; but agriculture is
especially in my eye : let my children be husband-
men and housewives; it is industrious, healthy,
honest, and of good example; like Abraham and
the holy ancients, who pleased God, and obtained
a good report. This leads to consider the works of
God and nature, of things that are good, and di-
10 WILLIAM PENN.
verts the mind from being taken up with the vain
arts and inventions of a luxurious world. It is
commendable in the prince of Germany, and the
nobles of that empire, that they have all their
children instructed in some useful occupation.
Rather keep an ingenious person in the house to
teach them, than send them to schools, too many
evil impressions being commonly received there.
Be sure to observe their genius, and do not cross it
as to learning : let them not dwell too long on one
thing, but let their change be agreeable, and all
their diversions have some little bodily labour in
them. When grown big, have most care for them,
for then there are more snares both within and
without. When marriageable, see that they have
worthy persons in their eye, of good life, and good
fame for piety and understanding. I need no
wealth, but sufficiency ; and be sure their love be
dear, fervent, and mutual, that it may be happy
for them. I choose not they should be married to
earthly, covetous kindred. And of cities and towns
of concourse beware ; the world is apt to stick close
to those who have lived and got wealth there : a
country life and estate I like best for my children.
I prefer a decent mansion of an hundred pounds
per annum, before ten thousand pounds in London,
or such like place in a way of trade. In fine, my
dear, endeavour to breed them dutiful to the Lord,
and his blessed light, truth, and grace in their
hearts, who is their Creator, and his fear will grow
up with them. Teach a child (says the wise man)
the way thou wilt have him to walk, and when he
WILLIAM PENN. 11
is old he will not forget it. Next, obedience to
thee, their dear mother; and that not for wrath,
but for conscience sake ; liberal to the poor, pitiful
to the miserable, humble and kind to all ; and may
my God make thee a blessing, and give thee com-
fort in our dear children ; and in age gather thee to
the joy and blessednessof the just (where no death
shall separate us) for ever !
And now, my dear children, that are the gifts and
mercies of the God of your tender father, hear my
counsel, and lay it up in your hearts ; love it more
than treasure, and follow it, and you shall be
blessed here, and happy hereafter.
In the first place, remember your Creator in the
days of your youth. It was the glory of Israel in
the second of Jeremiah ; and how did God bless
Josiah, because he feared him in his youth ; and
so he did Jacob, Joseph, and Moses. O my dear
children, remember, and fear and serve him who
made you, and gave you to me and your dear
mother, that you may live to him, and glorify him
in your generations.
To do this, in your youthful days seek after the
Lord, that you may find him ; remembering his
great love in creating you ; that you are not beasts,
plants, or stones, but that he has kept you, and
given you his grace within, and substance with-
out, and provided plentifully for you. This re-
member in your youth, that you may be kept from
the evil of the world : for in age it will be harder
to overcome the temptatious of it.
12 WILLIAM PENN.
Be obedient to your clear mother, a woman whose
virtue and good name is an honour to you ; for
she hath been exceeded by none in her time for her
plainness, integrity, industry, humanity, virtue,
and good understanding; qualities not usual among
women of her worldly condition and quality.
Therefore honour and obey her, my dear children,
as your mother, and your father's love and delight;
nay, love her too, for she loved your father with a
deep and upright love, choosing him before all her
many suitors ; and though she be of a delicate con-
stitution and noble spirit, yet she descended to the
utmost tenderness and care for you, performing
the painful acts of service to you in your infancy,
as a mother and nurse too. 1 charge you, before
the Lord, honour and obey, love and cherish your
dear mother.
Finally, my children, love one another with a
true endeared love, and your dear relations on
both sides, and take care to preserve tender affec-
tion in your children to each other, often marrying
within themselves, (so as it be without the bounds
forbidden in God's law,) that so they may not, like
the forgetting unnatural world, grow out of kindred,
and as cold as strangers ; but, as becomes a truly
natural and Christian stock, you and yours after
you may live in the pure and fervent love of God
towards one another, as becometh brethren in the
spiritual and natural relation.
So, my God, that hath blessed me with his
abundant mercies, both of this and the other, and
DR. DODDRIDGE. 13
better life, be with you all, guide you by liis coun-
sel, bless you, and bring you to his eternal glory !
that you may shine, my dear children, in the
firmament of God's power with the blessed spirits of
the just, that celestial family praising and admir-
ing bim, the God and father of it, for ever. For
there is no God like unto him ; the God of Isaac
and of Jacob, the God of the prophets, the apostles
and martyrs of Jesus, in whom I live for ever.
So, farewell to my thrice dearly beloved wife
and children.
Yours, as God pleaseth, in that which no waters
can quench, no time forget, nor distance wear away,
but remains for ever,
William Penn.
LETTER CCCV.
Dr. Doddridge to his young friend Miss Jennings, point-
ing out certain defects of temper and character. (')
Dear Jennings, January, 1726.
You will probably be surprised, that in the midst
of the familiarity of daily conversation, I have re-
course to the formality of a letter ; and still more,
when you find it is to tell you seriously, that there
are some things in your behaviour which I am so
(') Dr. Doddridge was at this time quite a young man ; twenty-
four years of age. It is necessary to mention this to explain some
allusions in the letter.
14 DR. DODDRIDGE.
far from admiring, that I think it worth my while to
spend half an hour on a Saturday morning- to en-
gage you, if I can, to reform them. To come directly
to the point, there are some particular seasons,
which have occurred oftener within this last month
than in all the other fourteen I have been at Har-
borough, in which you seem to imagine that you
have a dispensation to treat me just as you please,
without any regard to the considerations not only
of friendship, but of common politeness! I have
not time to tell stories with pen and ink, and so
will not enter into particulars ; besides, the in-
stances are individually so trifling as not to deserve
mention, though when ten or twenty occur in a
day, they amount to something that cannot be seen
without observation, nor borne without some re-
sentment ; at least, where there is not a perfect in-
difference, which, by the way, they have a great
tendency to produce.
I appeal, my dear, to yourself, whether it be de-
cent entirely to disregard many instances of kind-
ness and respect, which though in themselves very
little, are such as evince a mind disposed to please
you ; whether even so very a trifle as a cup of tea,
when offered with civility and good humour, ought
not either to be received or refused with a smile or
a nod. Or if an air of pettishness in the whole be-
haviour be the most agreeable and equitable way
of refusing those innocent freedoms which you
know at the worst are but the errors of excessive
tenderness.
After all, my dear, I own that these are but little
DR. DODDRIDGE. 15
faults, yet when they recur frequently they throw
a blemish upon a character that would be other-
wise very agreeable.
I have been something more surprised at such
behaviour to me, as I know that since I came into
the family, I have loved you most heartily, and
treated you not only with constant civility, but
with tender friendship. It is with pleasure that I
have discovered any opportunity of serving or
pleasing you. I have spoken of you with the most
affectionate respect in your absence, and almost
quarrelled with some of the wisest and best of my
friends, for charging you with that negligence and
affectation of which I have now reminded you ;
and you yourself know, that when you have been
disposed to quarrel and find fault, you could fix on
nothing but an excess of fondness. Forgive me
this wrong !
And yet on the other hand, I can never believe
that you apprehend that I offer myself as a lover,
and that it is therefore necessary to treat me with
an air of coldness and scorn, that I may not take
too much encouragement. I know not whether
your late complaisant refusals were in jest or earn-
est ; but of this I am sure, that if they were in jest,
they had not so much wit or humour as to excuse
their repetition thrice ; and if they were in earnest,
they were very unnecessary ! However, to prevent
such dreadful apprehensions, I do seriously assure
you, that I have at present no such thought ; and I
here give it you under my hand, that if I ever offer
any thing of that nature, I will proceed in form. I
16 EH. DODDRIDGE.
will acquaint mamma in the first place, and will
never plead your indulgence to my friendship as
any engagement upon you to accept my love.
With this precaution I think I may safely tell you
that I do still esteem you heyond any other person
in the world of your age ; and do really think, that
when you are in a good humour — you are, without
a compliment, one of the most agreeable creatures
I know. I must further do you the justice to ac-
knowledge that you have frequently, perhaps I
may say generally, treated me with an air of tender
friendship, which to a man of my temper is en-
gaging and endearing in a very uncommon degree,
and I need not look back further than yesterday to
recollect some very agreeable instances.
But after all, my dear, I must add, that it is this
mixture and uncertainty of temper and behaviour
that perplexes me more than any thing else. There
is an epigram in the Spectator, which, though not
made upon your sex, so exactly expresses my sen-
timents, that I cannot forbear transcribing it, and
would by all means advise you to let your memory
imbibe it :
In all thy humours, whether grave or mellow,
Thou'rt such a wayward, testy, pleasant fellow,
Hast so much wit and mirth and spleen abovit thee,
There's no existing with — nor e'en without thee.
Therefore, my dear, I have one favour to beg of
you, and all that I have already said was only in-
tended as its introduction ; and this is, that you
would reflect a little upon my character in general,
DR. DODDRIDGE. 17
and upon my behaviour to you in particular, and
then come to a resolution to treat me in a constant
manner. Be always kind and obliging, or always
negligent and rude; and though I cannot say it is
a matter of indifference which you choose, yet I
am persuaded I shall in either case be easier.
If you can resolve upon the latter of these expe-
dients, which yet methinks I am unwilling to sup-
pose, my friendship is ended, but my civility will
continue. I am not humble enough to make any
fresh complaint either to yourself or your mother,
nor spiteful enough to attempt to injure or tease
you. Nay, I have so much regard to the friendship
of your excellent mother, whom I know to be most
tenderly concerned for your interest as well as to
the obligations of common humanity, that I will do
my utmost to promote your improvement in reli-
gion and in other accomplishments, as far as may
be in my power. If according to my firm expecta-
tion, you take this friendly admonition as kindly as
I mean it ; if you make it your future care to treat
me with civility and good humour, and rather to
bear with any tolerable infirmity than to quarrel
when I have given you no affront ; in one word, if
you will treat me just as you did twelve months
ago, bating the article of so many kisses which I
will willingly resign, I assure you, my dear, that
nothing which may have past shall impair the
sincerity of my tenderness and esteem. I shall
then study for every opportunity of obliging you ;
and treat you not with the importunity of a lover,
but with the easy and endearing affection of a
VOL. III. c
18 DR. DODDRIDGE.
brother ; I shall then think it my happiness, that I
live in a family with so agreeable and so charming a
friend, and your affection, as well as that of mamma
and aunt, 'will add a relish to the brightest, and a
comfort to the gloomiest moments of my life ; and,
whenever we part, which will certainly be in a few
years, and, probably enough, in a few months, I
shall go away with a very high esteem of your cha-
racter and gratitude for your kindness, and at any-
distant time or place shall rejoice in an opportu-
nity of expressing the sincerity and tenderness with
which
I am, dear little madam,
Your very affectionate friend and servant,
P. Doddridge.
On reading over this letter I find it is too long
and too grave ; however, I think you cannot but
reflect, that if I had loved you less, it had been
both gayer and shorter.
LETTER CCCVI.
Dr. Doddridge to Sir John R n, expostulating with
him on his profaneness. (')
Dear Sir John, Northampton, Dec. 8, 1742.
Permit me frankly to speak my mind to you on a
head, on which I fear to be silent, lest I should fail
(') "He had resolution to reprove, in a gentle but eiFectual
manner, persons of rank and fortune ; and had the happy art of
DR. DODDRIDGE. 19
in gratitude to a gentleman to whom T think my-
self much obliged, and whom I would gladly serve
to the best of my little ability.
Be not angry, when I tell you, I was heartily
grieved at the liberties you took last night in using
the venerable name of the ever blessed God in so
light a manner; and in the needless appeals which
you made to him as to matters which would have
been believed on much less evidence than the word
of Sir John R n !
I have not, for some years, heard so much lan-
guage of that kind, except when passing by people
of low education in the streets; whether it be owing
to the complaisance with which gentlemen commonly
treat our profession, or, as I rather hope, to a sense
of what it is in itself reasonable and decent.
I am sure, sir, that your knowledge of men and
things is capable of making conversation pleasant
and improving without these dreadful expletives;
for dreadful I must call them, when considered in
a view to that strict account which must so cer-
tainly, and so quickly, be rendered up to God for
all our words, as well as our actions.
I was the more solicitous, sir, to mention the
affair to you in consideration of your office as a
magistrate; the dignity of which would certainly
be most effectually supported by avoiding whatever
it might require you to punish in others. In this
complimenting them upon some good quality they possessed,
while he pointed out their irregularities, and thus prevented
feelings of resentment." — The Rev. Job Orion's Life of Dr.
Doddridge.
c 2
20 DR. DODDRIDGE.
view, sir, permit me to entreat you to join your
efforts with those of all other wise and good men to
discountenance and, if possible, to drive out of the
world this unprofitable enormity of swearing in
common conversation ; concerning the evil of
which, I am sure, it is not necessary to enlarge,
when addressing myself to a gentleman of your
understanding.
I conclude, sir, with my most affectionate good
wishes and prayers for you, that the whole of your
conduct, in every circumstance of life, may be such
as will yield the most pleasing reflections in the
awful hour of death ; and the most comfortable
account before that Divine tribunal to which we
are all hastening; and in the serious expectation of
which, I have presumed to give you this trouble,
hoping that you will esteem it, as it undoubtedly is,
a proof that I am with great sincerity.
Your most faithful and obedient
humble servant,
Philip Doddridge. (')
(') <'I thought it more respectful to write to Sir John R n
on this occasion, than to speak to him before the company ;
but it is a law I lay down to myself to do the one or the other,
lest T should seem too indifferent to the honour of God, and the
good of my friends, and of the world about them." — Diary.
REV. JOHN NEWTON. 21
LETTER CCCVII.
Rev. John Newton to Rev. Mr. R Advice on the
subject of matrimony.
Dear Sir, Feb. 3, 1775.
It would be wrong to make you wait long for an
answer to the point you propose in your last. It
is an important one. I am not a casuist by profes-
sion, but I will do my best. Suppose I imitate
your laconic manner of stating the question and
circumstances.
I doubt not but it is very lawful at your age to
think of marriage, and, in the situation you describe,
to think of money likewise. I am glad you have
no person, as you say, fixedly in view ; in that case
advice comes a post or two too late. But your ex-
pression seems to intimate, that there is one tran-
siently in view. If it be so, since you have no settle-
ment, if she has no money, I cannot but wish she
may pass on till she is out of sight and out of mind.
I see this will not do ; I must get into my own
grave way about this grave business. I take it for
granted, that my friend is free from the love of
filthy lucre; and that money will never be the
turning point with you in the choice of a wife.
Methinks I hear you think, if I wanted money, I
would either dig or beg for it; but to preach or
marry for money, that be far from me. I commend
you. However, though the love of money be a great
22 REV. JOHN NEWTON.
evil, money itself, obtained in a fair and honourable
way, is desirable upon many accounts, though not
for its own sake. Meat, clothes, fire, and books,
cannot easily be had without it; therefore, if these
be necessary, money which procures them must be
a necessary likewise. If things were otherwise than
you represent them, if you were able to provide for
a wife yourself, then I would say, find a gracious
girl, (if she be not found already,) whose person
you like, whose temper, you think, will suit ; and
then, with your father and mother's consent, (with-
out which I think you would be unwilling to move,)
thank the Lord for her, marry her, and account
her a valuable portion, though she should not have
a shilling. But, while you are without income or
settlement, if you have thoughts of marriage, I
hope they will be regulated by a due regard to
consequences. They who set the least value upon
money, have in some respects the most need of it.
A generous mind will feel a thousand pangs in
strait circumstances, which some unfeeling hearts
would not be sensible of. You could perhaps en-
dure hardships alone, yet it might pinch you to
the very bone to see the person you love exposed to
them. Besides, you might have a John, a Thomas,
and a William, and half a dozen more to feed; (for
they must all eat;) and how this could be done with-
out a competency on one side or the other, or so
much on both sides as will make a competency
when united, I see not. Besides, you would be
grieved not to find an occasional shilling in your
REV. JOHN NEWTON. 23
pocket to bestow upon one or other of the Lord's
poor, though you should be able to make some sort
of a shift for those of your own house.
But is it not written, " The Lord will provide ?"
It is : but it is written again, '' Thou shalt not
tempt the Lord thy God." Hastily to plunge
ourselves into difficulties, upon a persuasion that he
will find some way to extricate us, seems to me a
species of tempting him.
Therefore I judge, it is so far lawful for you to
have a regard to money in looking out for a wife,
that it would be wrong, that is, in other words, un-
lawful, for you to omit it, supposing you have a
purpose of marrying in your present situation.
Many serious young women have a predilection
in favour of a minister of the gospel ; and I believe
among such one or more may be found as spiritual,
as amiable, as suitable to make you a good wife,
with a tolerable fortune to boot, as another who
has not a penny. If you are not willing to trust
your own judgment in the search, entreat the Lord
to find her for you. He chose well for Isaac and
Jacob ; and you, as a believer, have warrant to com-
mit your way to him, and many more express pro-
mises than they had for your encouragement. He
knows your state, your wants, what you are at pre-
sent, and what use he designs to make of you.
Trust in him, and wait for him : prayer, and faith,
and patience are never disappointed. I commend
you to his blessing and guidance. Remember us to
all in your house.
I am, &c.
24 WJLLIAM COWPER, ESQ.
LETTER CCCVIII.
WiLLTAM CowPER, EsQ. to Rev. W. Uxwin, on a case
which his friend had proposed to him. — The resolute vindi-
cation of personal rights not inconsistent with the spirit of
meekness which the gospel enjoins.
My dear Friend, July, 29, 1781.
Having- given the case you laid before me in your
last all due consideration, I proceed to answer it;
and in order to clear my way, shall, in the first
place, set down my sense of those passages in
Scripture which, on a hasty perusal, seem to clash
with the opinion I am going to give — " If a man
smite one cheek, turn the other." — " If he take
thy cloak, let him take thy coat also." — That is, I
suppose, rather than on a vindictive principle avail
yourself of that remedy the law allows you, in the
way of retaliation, for that was the subject imme-
diately under the discussion of the speaker. No-
thing is so contrary to the genius of the gospel, as
the gratification of resentment and revenge; but I
cannot easily persuade myself to think, that the
author of that dispensation could possibly advise
his followers to consult their own peace at the ex-
pense of the peace of society, or inculcate an uni-
versal abstinence from the use of lawful remedies,
to the encouragement of injury and oppression.
St. Paul again seems to condemn the practice of
going to law, " Why do ye not rather suffer
wrong ?" &c. But if we look again, we shall find
WILLIAM COWPER, ESQ. 25
that a litigious temper had obtained, and was
prevalent among the professors of the day. This
he condemned, and with good reason; it was un-
seemly to the last degree, that the disciples of the
Prince of Peace should worry and vex each other
with injurious treatment, and unnecessary disputes,
to the scandal of their religion in the eyes of the
heathen. But surely he did not mean, any more
than his Master, in the place above alluded to,
that the most harmless members of society should
receive no advantage of its law, or should be the
only persons in the world who should derive no
benefit from those institutions, without which so-
ciety cannot subsist. Neither of them could mean
to throw down the pale of property, and to lay the
Christian part of the world open, throughout all
ages, to the incursions of unlimited violence and
wrong.
By this time you are sufficiently aware, that I
think you have an indisputable right to recover at
law what is so dishonestly withheld from you.
The fellow, I suppose, has discernment enough to
see a difference between you and the generality of
the clergy; and cunning enough to conceive the
purpose of turning your meekness and forbearance
to good account, and of coining them into hard
cash, which he means to put in his pocket. But I
would disappoint him, and show him, that though
a Christian is not to be quarrelsome, he is not to
be crushed — and that though he is but a worm be-
fore God, he is not such a worm, as every selfish un-
principled wretch may tread upon at his pleasure.
26 -WILLIAM COWrER, ESQ.
I lately beard a story from a lady, who has
spent many years of her life in France, somewhat
to the present purpose. An abbe universally es-
teemed for his piety, and especially for the meek-
ness of his manners, had yet undesignedly given
some offence to a shabby fellow in his parish.
The man, concluding he might do as he pleased
with so forgiving and gentle a character, struck
him on one cheek, and bade him turn the other.
The good man did so, and when he had received
the two slaps, which he thought himself obliged to
submit to, turned again, and beat him soundly. I
do not wish to see you follow the French gentle-
man's example, but I believe nobody that has
heard the story condemns him much for the spirit
he showed upon the occasion.
I had the relation from Lady Austen, sister to
Mrs. Jones, wife of the minister at Clifton. She is
a most agreeable woman, and has fallen in love
with your mother and me ; insomuch, that I do
not know but she may settle at Olney. Yester-
day sennight we all dined together in the Spinnie
— a most delightful retirement, belonging to Mrs.
Throckmorton of Weston. Lady Austen's lackey,
and a lad that waits on me in the garden, drove a
wheelbarrow full of eatables and drinkables to
the scene of our fete champetre. A board laid
over the top of the wheelbarrow served us for
a table; our dining-room was a root-house lined
with moss and ivy. At six o'clock, the ser-
vants, who had dined under a great elm upon the
ground, at a little distance, boiled the kettle, and
REV. T. SCOTT. 27
the said wheelbarrow served us for a tea-table.
We then took a walk into the wilderness, about
half a mile off, and were at home again a little
after eight, having spent the day together from
noon till evening, without one cross occurrence, or
the least weariness of each other. A happiness few
parties of pleasure can boast of. Yours, with our
joint love,
W. C.
LETTER CCCIX.
Rev. T. Scott to his Sister, expostulating with her, on ac-
count of her unkind treatment of him, after the great change
which had taken place in his religious views.
" I have kept silence, yea, even from good words :
but it ivas pain and grief to me." 1 would, how-
ever, once more remind you, that you have a bro-
ther — who was no hypocrite when he assured you
that he loved you, at least as well as any relation
that he had in the world, his wife and children
excepted ; that your interest and welfare were al-
ways near to his heart; 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,
28 REV. T. SCOTT.
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 " I have continual sorrow and heavi-
ness in my heart, for my brethren 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 on me: — the favourite sister, whose heart
seemed as clxjsely knit to mine by the dearest and
most confidential fi'iendship, 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, through my study of his word, with prayer for
that teaching which he hath promised, to lead me to
a different view of the gospel of Jesus Christ, than
I had embraced : 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
divine happiness from him. A happiness I have
therein tasted, to which I was before a stranger —
that *' peace of God which passeth all understand-
ing," and which as much excels, even in this
world, any thing I had before experienced, as the
cheering, constant light of the noon-day sun ex-
ceeds the short vivid 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 had
REV. T. SCOTT. 29
done for me, and how he had had mercy on me ;
that they might find, what I knew they too were
seeking, true happiness. " Come, taste and see how
gracious the Lord is, and houi 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,(') I was
much too earnest, and in a hurry; said too much,
and went too far; and thus, out of my abundant
love, surfeited you. Forgive me this wrong I It
was well meant, but ill judged, and worse received.
O, my dear sister, I wish you as happy as I am
myself, and need wish you no happier in this
world. To call God my father; to confide in his
love ; to realize his powerful presence ; to see by
faith his wisdom choosing, his love providing for
me, his arm protecting me; to find him (my sin
notwithstanding) 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
request, supplying my wants, supporting me under
every trial, sweetening and sanctifying every trou-
ble, manifesting his love to me, and comforting
me by his Holy Spiiit; 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 comparing with it ? Peace with God,
(') John, vi. 44-40.
30 REV. HENRY MARTYN.
peace of conscience, peace in my family, peace
with all around me — these are the blessings of 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 acknow-
ledge 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.
Yours, &c.
T. Scott.
LETTER CCCX.
Rev. Henry Martyx to Mr. Corrie, expostulating with
him on his imprudent zeal.
If there is nothing on the rock of Chunar, which
occasions your frequent illness, I am sure I am not
one to advise you to leave the flock. But if there
is, as I have much reason to believe, then the
mere loss of your services to the few people there,
is, I think, not a sufficient reason for hazarding
your life, in which the interest of millions of others
is immediately involved. Consider, you bring a
fixed habit with you, and must humour it, as much
as possible, at first. When, after the experience
REV. HENRY MARTYN. 31
of a year or two, you know what you can bear, go,
if you please, to the extent of your powers. It is
not agreeable to the pride and self-righteous parts
of our natures, to be conferring with flesh and
blood : nature, under a religious form, would
rather squander away life and strength, as David
Brainerd did. You know how I regard him as one
" the latchet of whose shoes I am not worthy to
unloose;" and yet considering the palpable impro-
priety of his attempting to do what he did, when
he ought to have been in medical hands, and not
being able to ascribe it to folly in such a sensible
man, I feel disposed, perhaps from motives of cen-
soriousness,to ascribe it to the desire of gaining his
own good opinion.
I long to hear of a Christian school established
at Benares : it will be like the ark brought into
the house of Dagon, But do not be in a hurry : let
your character become known, and you may do any
thing. If nothing else comes of our schools, one
thing I feel assured of, that the children will grow
up ashamed of the idolatry and other customs of their
country. But surely the general conversion of the
natives is not far off : — the poverty of the Brahmins
makes them less anxious for the continuance of the
present system, from which they gain but little.
But the translation of the Scriptures is the grand
epoch. I trust we shall have the heavenly plea-
sure of dispersing the Scriptures together in the
interior. Oh, the happiness and honour of being
the children of God, the ministers of Christ 1
H. Martyn.
32 ARCHBISHOP CRANMER.
SECTION II.
LETTERS ADMINISTERING SPIRITUAL COUNSEL AND
ENCOURAGEMENT, &C.
LETTER CCCXI.
Letter of Archbishop Crankier to Mistrttss Wil-
K.INSON, exhorting her to " flee hi the thne of persecution,
and to seek her dwelling where she might serve God accord-
ing to his word."
The true comforter in all distress is only God,
through his Son Jesus Christ, and whosoever hath
him, hath company enough, although he were in a
wilderness all alone ; and he that hath twenty
thousand in his company, if God be absent, is in
a miserable wilderness and desolation. In him is
all comfort, and without him is none. Wherefore
I beseech you, seek your dwelling there where you
may truly and rightly serve God, and dwell in
him, and have him ever dwelling in you. What
can be so heavy a burden as an unquiet conscience,
to be in such a place as a man cannot be suffered
to serve God in Christ's religion ? If you are loath
to depart from your kin and friends, remember
that Christ calls them his mother, sisters, brothers,
that do his Father's will. Where we find, there-
ARCHBISHOP CRANMER. 33
fore, God truly honoured according- to his will,
there we can lack neither friend nor kin.
If you are loath to depart for slandering of God's
word, remember that Christ, when his hour was
not yet come, departed out of his country into Sa-
maria, to avoid the malice of the Scribes and Pha-
risees ; and commanded his apostles, that if they
were pursued in one place, they should flee to ano-
ther ; and was not Paul let down by a basket out
at a window, to avoid the persecution of Aretas ?
And what wisdom and policy he used from time to
time to escape the malice of his enemies, the Acts
of the Apostles do declare. And after the same
sort did the other apostles ; albeit, when it came to
such a point, that they could no longer escape
danger of the persecutors of God's true religion,
then they showed themselves, that their flying fore
came not of fear, but of godly wisdom to do more
good, and that they would not rashly, without ur-
gent necessity, offer themselves to death, which had
been but a temptation of God. Yea, when they
were apprehended, and could no longer avoid,
then they stood boldly to the profession of Christ,
then they showed how little they passed of death ;
how much they feared God more than men, how
much they loved and preferred the eternal life to
come, above this short and miserable life.
Wherefore I exhort you, as well by Christ's
commandment, as by the example of him and his
apostles, to withdraw yourself from the malice of
your and God's enemies, into some place where
God is most purely served ; which is no slandering
VOL. III. D
34 JOHN BllADFOIlD.
of the truth, but a preserving of yourself to God
and the truth, and to the society and comfort of
Christ's little flock. And what you will do, do it
with speed, lest by your own folly you fall into
the persecutors' hands. And the Lord send his
Holy Spirit to lead and guide you wheresoever
you go, and all that be godly will say. Amen. (')
LETTER CCCXII.
John Bradford to his Mother and Brethren. — A mar-
tyr's dying counsel to the persecuted.
" A comfortable letter of Master Bradford to his mother, a
godly matron, dwelling in Manchester, and to his brethren and
sisters, and other of his friends there."
I am at this present in prison, sure enough,
for starting to confirm that I have preached unto
you : as I am ready, I thank God, with my life
and blood to seal the same, if God consider me
worthy of that honour ; for, good mother and
brethren, it is a most special benefit of God to suf-
fer for his name sake and gospel as now I do. I
heartily thank him for it, and I am sure that with
him I shall be partaker of his glory. As Paul
saith, " If we suffer with him, we shall reign with
him." Therefore be not faint-hearted, but rather
(1) Mrs. Wilkinson was, according to Strype, *' a woman of
good quality and a great reliever of good men."
JOHN BRADFORD. 35
rejoice, at least for my sake, which now am in the
right and high way to heaven, for by many afflic-
tions we must enter the kingdom of heaven. Now
God will make known his children. When the
wind does not blow, then a man cannot know the
wheat from the chaff; but when the blast comes,
then the chaff flies away, but the wheat remains,
and is so far from being hurt, that by the wind it
is cleansed from the chaff, and known to be wheat.
Gold, when it is cast into the fire, is the more pre-
cious ;»so are God's children by the cross of afflic-
tion. God always begins his judgment at his
house: Christ and the apostles w^ere in most mi-
sery in the land of Jewry, but yet the whole land
smarted for it afterwards; so now God's children
are chastised in this world, that they should not be
damned with the world ; for surely great plagues
of God hang over this realm.
Perchance you are weakened as to that I have
preached, because God does not defend it, as you
think, but suffers the Popish doctrine to come again
and prevail; but you must know, good mother,
that God by this proves and tries his children and
people, whether they will unfeignedly and simply
hang on Him and his word. So did he with the
Israelites, bringing them into a desert after their
coming out of Egypt; where (I mean in the wil-
derness) was want of all things in comparison of
that which they had in Egypt. Christ, when he
came into this world, brought no worldly wealth
nor quietness with him, but rather war. " The
D 2
36 JOHN BRADFORD.
world," said he, " shall rejoice, but ye shall mourn
and weep ; but your weeping shall be turned into
joy ; and therefore happy are they that mourn and
w eep, for they shall be comforted."
Wherefore fear God, stick to his word, though
all the world swerve from it. Die you must once,
and when or how you cannot tell. Die, therefore,
with Christ, suffer for serving him truly and after
his word ; for sure may we be, that of all deaths, it
is most to be desired to die for God's sake. This is
the most safe kind of dying; we cannot doubt, but
that we shall go to heaven if we die for his name
sake. And that you shall die for his name sake,
God's word will warrant you, if you stick to that
which God by me hath taught you. You shall see
that I speak as I think; for by God's grace I will
drink before you of this cup, if I am put to it.
I doubt not but God will give me his grace, and
strengthen me thereto ; pray that he would, and
that I refuse it not. I am at a point, even when
my Lord God will, to come to him ; death nor
life, prison nor pleasure, I trust in God, shall be
able to separate me from my Lord God and his
gospel. In peace, when no persecution was, then
you were content and glad to hear me, then you
believed me ; and will you not do so now, seeing I
speak that which I trust by God's grace, if needs
be, to verify with my life? Good mother, I write
before God to you, as I have preached before
him.
JOHN BRADFORD. 37
Oh ! some will say, it will be an hinderance to
you if you refuse to come to mass, and to do as
others do; — but God will further you, be you as-
sured, as you shall one day find, who hath jDro-
mised to them that suffer hinderance or loss of any
thing in this world, his great blessing here, and in
the world to come life everlasting.
You shall be counted a heretic; — a heretic, but not
of others, only of heretics, whose praise is a dispraise.
You are not able to reason against the priests,
but God will, so that all of them shall not be able
to withstand you. Nobody will do so but you
only; — indeed no matter; for few enter in at the
narrow gate which bringeth to salvation. How-
beit, you shall have with you, I doubt not, father
Traves and others, my brothers and sisters, to go
with you therein ; but if they will not, T, your son,
in God, I trust, shall not leave you an inch, but go
before you : pray that I may, and give thanks for
me. Rejoice in my suffering, for it is for your
sakes, to confirm the truth I have taught. Howso-
ever you do, beware this letter come not abroad,
but into father Traves's hands; for if it should be
known that I have pen and ink in the prison, then
would it be worse with me. Therefore keep this
letter to yourselves, commending me to God, and
his mercy in Christ Jesus. May he make me wor-
thy for his name sake to give my life for his gospel
and church. Out of the Tower of London, the 6th
day of October, 1553.
My name I write not, for causes you know well
38 JOHN BRADFORD.
enough : like the letter never the worse. Commend
me to all our good brethren and sisters in the Lord.
Howsoever you do, be obedient to the higher
powers; that is, in no point either in hand or
tongue rebel ; but rather, if they command that
which with good conscience you cannot obey, lay
your head on the block, and suffer whatsoever they
shall do or say. *'By patience possess ye your
souls."
LETTER CCCXITI.
John Bradford to Lord Russell, on the same subject.
Praised be God our Father, which hath vouched
you worthy of faith in his Christ, and of his cross
for the same. Magnified be his holy name, who,
as he has delivered you from one cross, so he has
made you willing, I trust, and ready to bear ano-
ther, when he shall see it his time to lay it upon you;
for these are the most singular g^ifts of God, given
to few, and to none else but to those few which are
most dear in his sight.
Therefore, as I have said before, I have great
cause to thank God, which hath voucljed you wor-
thy of this most bountiful blessing ; much more
than you have cause, good lord, so to be : I mean
thankful ; for look upon your vocation : I pray you
tell me how many noblemen, earls' sons, lords,
knights, and men of estimation^, has God in this
JOHN BRADFORD. 39
realm of England dealt thus withal ? T dare say
you think not that you have deserved this. Only
God's mercy in his Christ hath wrought this in
you, as he did in Jeremiah's time, on Ebedmelech ;
in Ahab's time, on Obadiah ; in Christ's time, on
Joseph of Arimathea ; in the apostles' time, on
Sergius Paulus, and the queen Candace's cham-
berlain. Only now be thankful and continue;
continue, my good lord, continue to confess
Christ. Be not ashamed of him before men, for
then he will not be ashamed of you. Now will he
try you : stick fast unto him, and he will stick fast
by you ; he will be with you in trouble, and deli-
ver you. But then you must cry unto him, for so
it follows ; he cried unto me, and I heard him ; I
was " with him in trouble." (')
Remember Lot's wife which looked back. Re-
member Francis Spira. (^)
Remember that none is crowned but he that
strives lawfully. Remember that all you have is
at Christ's commandment. Remember he lost more
for you, than you can lose for him. Remember
you lose not that which is lost for his sake; for
you shall find much more here and elsewhere.
Remember you shall die ; and when, and where,
and how, you cannot tell. Remember the death
of sinners is most terrible. Remember the death
of God's saints is most precious in his sight. Re-
member the multitude goeth the wide way, which
windeth to woe. Remember the strait gate which
(') Psalm xci. (2) Who had recanted, and died miserably.
40 JOHN BRADFORD.
leads to glory has but few travellers. Remember
Christ bids you strive to enter in thereat. Remem-
ber, he that trusts in the Lord, shall receive strength
to stand against all the assaults of his enemies. Be
certain all the hairs of your head are numbered.
Be certain your good Father has appointed bounds,
over which the devil dares not look. Commit
yourself to him ; he is, has been, and will be, your
keeper. Cast your care upon him, and he will
care for you. Let Christ be your scope and mark
to aim at ; let him be your pattern to work by ;
let him be your ensample to follow : give him
your heart and your hand ; your mind and your
tongue ; your faith and your feet : and let his word
be your candle to go before you in all matters of
religion. Blessed is he that walks not to these Po-
pish prayers, nor stands at them, nor sits at them.
Glorify God both in soul and body. He that ga-
thereth not with Christ, scattereth abroad. Use
prayer; look for God's help, which is at hand, to
them that ask; and hope thereafter assuredly. In
which prayer, I heartily desire your lordship to
remember us, who, as we are going with you right
gladly, (God therefore be praised,) some look to go
before you, hoping that you will follow, if God so
will, according to your daily prayer ; " Thy will
be done on earth ;" the good Spirit of God always
guide your lordship unto the end.
Your lordship's own for ever,
John Bradford.
JOHN BRADFORD. 41
LETTER CCCXIV.
John Bradford to Master Warcup and his "Wife, on
the same occasion.
The time I perceive is come wherein the Lord's
ground will be known. I mean, it will now shortly
appear who have received God's gospel into their
hearts indeed, to the taking of good root therein ;
for such will not wither, for a little heat or sun-
burning ; but will stiffly stand and grow on, in
spite of the malice of all burning showers and tem-
pests.
And besides this, set before you also, that though
the weather is foul, and storms grow apace, yet
you go not alone, but others, your brothers and
sisters tread the same path, as St. Peter tells us ;
and therefore company should cause you to be
more courageous and cheerful. But if you had no
company at all to go at present with you, I pray
you tell me, if even from the beginning the best of
God's friends have found fairer weather and way to
the place whither ye are going, I mean to heaven,
than you now find, and are like to do, except you
will with the worldlings, which have their portion
in this life, tarry still by the way, till the storms be
overpast, and then either night will so approach
that you cannot travel, or the doors will be barred
before ye come, and so you then must lodge with-
42 • JOHN BRADFORD.
out in wonderful evil lodgings. Read Revelation
xxii. Begin at Abel, and come from him to Noah,
Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph,' the patriarchs,
Moses, David, Daniel, and all the saints of the old
Testament, and tell me whether ever any of them-
found any fairer way than you now find ?
If the Old Testament will not serve, I pray you
come to the New, and begin with Mary and Jo-
seph, and come from them to Zechariah, Eliza-
beth, John Baptist, and every one of the apostles
and evangelists, and search whether they all found
any other way unto the city we travel towards, than
by many tribulations.
Besides these, if you call to remembrance the
primitive church, you would see many who have
cheerfully given their bodies to most grievous tor-
ments, rather than they would be stopped in their
journey. There is no day in the year, but (I dare
say) a thousand at least with great joy lost their
homes here ; and in the city they went unto, have
found other manner of homes than man's mind is
able to conceive.
But if none of these things were so — if you had
no company now to go with you, as you have me,
your poor brother and bondman of the Lord; with
many others, I trust in God, if you have none
other of the fathers, patriarchs, good kings, evan-
gelists, martyrs, and other holy saints and children
of God, who in their journey to heaven-ward
found, as you now find, and are like to find, if you
go on forward, as T trust you will ; yet you have
JOHN BRADFORD. 43
your master and your captain, Jesus Christ, the
dear darling and only begotten and beloved Son of
God, in whom was all the Father's pleasure, joy,
and delectation ; you have him who went before
you, no fairer way, but one much fouler, into this
our city of Jerusalem. I need not, I trust, re-
hearse what manner of way he found. Begin at
his birth, and till you come to his burial, you shall
find that every foot and stride of his journey was
no better, but much worse than yours is now.
Wherefore, my dearly beloved in the Lord, be
not so dainty, as to look for that at God's hands,
your dear Father, which the fathers, patriarchs,
prophets, apostles, evangelists, martyrs, saints, and
his own son Jesus Christ, did not find. Hitherto
we have had fair way and fair weather also : now
because we have loitered by the way, and not made
the speed we should have done, our loving Lord
and sweet Father hath overcast the weather, and
stirred up storms and tempests, that we might with
more haste run out our race before night come, and
the doors be barred. The devil standeth now at
every inn-door in his city and country of this
world, crying unto us to tarry and lodge in this or
that place, till the storms be overpast; not that he
would not have us wet to the skin, but that the
time might overpass us, to our utter destruction.
Therefore beware of his enticements. Cast not
your eyes on things that are present, how this man
doth, or that man doth, but cast your eyes on the
gleve, (') you run at, or else you will lose the game.
(') The mark. An allusion to the words of the apostle. —
Philippians iii.
44 JOHN BRADFORD.
You know that he that runs at the gleve, does
not look on others that stand by, and go this way,
or that way, but he looks altogether at the gleve,
and on them that run with him, that those which
are behind overtake him not, and that he may over-
take them that are before. Even so should we do,
leaving off looking on those which will not run the
race to heaven's bliss, by the path of persecution
with us, and casting our eyes on the end of our
race, and on them that go before us, that we may
overtake them ; and on them which come after us,
that we may provoke them to come faster after.
He that shoots will not cast his eyes in his shoot-
ing on them that stand by, or ride by the way, but
rather at the mark he shoots at, for else he were
likely to win the wrong way ! Even so, my dearly
beloved, let your eyes be set on the mark you
shoot at, even Christ Jesus, who for the joy set be-
fore him did joyfully carry his cross, contemning
the shame, and therefore he now sitteth on the right
hand of the throne of God. Let us follow him; for
this he did, that we should not be faint-hearted ;
for we may be most assured, that if we suffer with
him, we shall, undoubtedly, reign with him ; but
if we deny him, surely he will deny us. For he
that is ashamed of me, says Christ, and of my
gospel, in this faithless generation, I will be
ashamed of him before the angels of God in
heaven.
Here is not our home : therefore let us accord-
ingly consider things, always having before our
JOHN BRADFORD. 45
eyes the heavenly Jerusalem ; (') remembering
that the way thither is by persecutions ; the dear
friends of God, how they have gone it after the
example of our Saviour Jesus Christ, whose foot-
steps let us follow, even to the gallows, if God so
will, not doubting, but that as he within three days
rose again immortal, even so we shall do in our
time; that is, when the trump shall blow, and the
angel shall shout, and the Son of Man shall appear
in the clouds, with innumerable saints and angels,
in majesty and great glory ; then shall the dead
arise, and we shall be caught up into the clouds to
meet the Lord, and to be always with him. Com-
fort yourselves with these words, and pray for me.
From prison, 19th November, 1553.
John Bradford.
LETTER CCCXV.
John Bradford to Dr. Hill, physician, on the same
occasion.
To MY VERY DEAR FRIEND IN THE LoRD, DoCTOR HiLL,
Physician,
The God of mercy and Father of all comfort, at
this present for ever, ingraft in your heart the sense
of his mercy in Christ, and the continuance of his
consolation, which cannot but enable you to carry
with joy whatsoever cross he shall lay upon you.
(>) Heb. xii. Rev. xxi. xxii.
46 JOHN BRADFORD.
Therefore I pray you call to mind that there are
but two masters, two kinds of people, two ways,
and two mansion-places: the masters are Christ
and Satan ; the people are servitors to either of
these; the ways are strait and wide ; the mansions,
heaven and hell. Again, consider that this world
is the place of trial of God's people and the devil's
servants; for us the one will follow his master,
whatsoever comes of it, so will the other. For a
time it is hard to discern who pertains to God,
and who to the devil : as in the calm and peace, it
is hard to learn who is a good shipman and warrior,
and who is not; but when the storm arises the ex-
pert mariner is known; and as in w^ar the good
soldier is seen, so in affliction and the cross, God's
children are easily known from Satan's servants;
for then, as the good servant will follow his master,
so the godly will follow their Captain, come what
will come : whereas the wicked and hypocrites bid
adieu, and desire less of Christ's acquaintance ; for
which cause the cross is called * the probation and
trial ;' because it tries who will go with God, and
who will forsake him. And now, in England, we
see how small a company Christ has in comparison
of Satan's soldiers. Let no man deceive himself;
for he that gathereth not with Christ, scattereth
abroad. No man can serve two masters; the Lord
abhorreth double hearts. The lukewarm, that is
such as are both hot and cold, he spitteth out of his
mouth ; none that halt in both knees, doth God
take for his servants. The way of Christ is the
strait way, and so strait, that as few find it, and few
JOHN BRADFORD. 47
walk in it, so no man can halt in it, but he must
needs go upright : for as the straitness will suffer
no reeling to this side or that side; so, if any halt,
he is like to fall off the bridge into the pit of eternal
perdition.
Strive therefore, good master doctor, now you
have found it, to enter into it ; and if you should
be called and pulled back, look not on this side or
that side, or behind you, as Lot's wife did, but
straight forwards, to the end which is set before
you, as if it were even now present, though it be to
come. Like as you do, and desire your patients to
do in your ministrations — to consider the effect that
will ensue; whereby the bitterness and loathsome-
ness of the physic is so overcome, and the painful-
ness in abiding the working of that which is minis-
tered is so eased, that it makes the patient willingly
and joyfully receive that which is to be taken, al-
though it is never so unpleasant. So, I say, set be-
fore you the end of this strait way ; and then doubt-
less, as Paul saith, "it shall bring with it an eternal
weight of glory," whilst we look not on the thing
which is seen, for that is temporal, but on the thing
which is not seen, for that is et^ernal. So does the
husbandman in ploughing and tilling, set before
him the harvest-time; so does the fisher consider
the draught of his net, rather than the casting in ;
so does the merchant the return of his merchan-
dise; and so should we in these stormy days set
before us, not the loss of our goods, liberty, and
very life, but the reaping-time, the coming of our
Saviour Christ to judgment ; the fire that shall burn
48 JOHN BRADFORD.
the wicked and disobedient to God's gospel ; the
blast of the trump, the exceeding glory prepared
for us in heaven eternally ; such as the eye hath
not seen, the ear hath not heard, nor the heart of
man can conceive. The more Ave lose here, the
greater joy shall we have there ; the more we suf-
fer, the greater triumph ; for corruptible dross, we
shall find incorruptible treasures ; for gold, glory ;
for silver, solace without end ; for riches, robes
royal ; for earthly houses, eternal palaces ; mirth
without measure, pleasure without pain, felicity
endless. We shall have God the Father, the Son,
and the Holy Ghost. O happy place ! O that
this day would come I
And for your comfort read Heb. xi. to see what
faith has done ; always considering the way to
heaven is by many tribulations ; and that all they
which will live godly in Christ Jesus must suffer
persecution. You know that this is our alphabet.
" He that will be my disciple," saith Christ, " must
deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow
me;" not this bishop, nor that doctor; not this
emj^eror, not that king; but me, saith Christ; for
he that loveth father, motlier, wife, children, or
very life, better than me, is not worthy of me.
Remember that same Lord saith, " He that will
save his life shall lose it." Comfort yourself with
this, that as the devils had no power over the
swine, or over Job's goods, without God's leave, so
shall they have none over you. Remember also,
that all the hairs of your head are numbered with
JOHN BRADFORD. 49
God. The devil may make one believe he will
drown him, as the sea in his surges threatens the
land ; but as the Lord appointed bounds for the
one, over the which he cannot pass, so has he done
for the other. On God therefore cast your care ;
love him and serve him after his word ; fear him,
trust in God ; hope at his hand for all help, and
always pray, looking for the cross ; and, whenever
it comes, be assured the Lord is faithful, he will
never tempt you further than he will make you
able to bear, but in the midst of the temptation
will make such a way to escape as shall be most to
his glory, and your eternal comfort. God, for his
mercy in Christ, with his Holy Spirit, endue you,
comfort you, shadow you under the wings of his
mercy, and as his dear child guide you for ever-
more ; to whose merciful tuition I commit you
with my hearty prayer; and I doubt not but that
you pray for me, and so I beseech you to do still.
My brother P tells me you wish to have the last
part of St. Jerome's works, to have the use thereof
for a fortnight. I cannot for these three days well
spare it, but on Thursday next I will send it you,
if God hinders me not; and use me, and what I
have, as your own. The Lord for his mercy in
Christ, direct our ways to his glory. Out of prison,
by yours to command,
John Bradforo.
VOL. in.
50 JOHN BRADFORD.
LETTER CCCXVI.
John Bhadford to one in spiritual distress. — "A letter full
of godly comfort."
The good Spirit of God, which guideth his children
be with you, my good sister in the Lord, for ever.
Although, as I am to you, so you are unknown
to me in person ; yet to Him whom we desire to
please, we are not only known in person, but also
in heart known and thoroughly seen ; and there-
fore, as for his sake you desire, by what you sent
unto me, it should be perceived that in God you
bear to me a good will ; so that I might be seen in
God to bear you the like, I send to you these few
words in writing, wishing that in all your doings
and speech, yea, even in your very thoughts, you
would labour to feel, that they are all open and
present before God, be they good or bad. This
cogitation being often had in mind, and prayer
made to God for the working of his Spirit, thereby
as a mean, you shall at the length feel more com-
fort and advantage, than any man can know, but
such as are exercised therein. Hovvbeit, this is to
be added, that in thinking yourself, and all you
have and do, are in the sight of God ; this, I say, is
to be added, that you think his sight is the sight not
only of a Lord, but rather of a Father, which ten-
deretli more your infirmities than you can tender
the infirmities of any of your children. Yea, when
in yourself you see a motherly affection to your
little one that is weak, let the same be unto you a
JOHN BRADFORD. 51
trace to train you to see the unspeakable kind
affection of God your Father towards you.
And therefore, upon the consideration of your
infirmities and natural evils, which continually
cleave unto us, take occasion to go to God as your
Father through Christ, and lay open your infirmi-
ties and evils before his merciful heart, with desire
of pardon and help, after his good will and plea-
sure, but in his time, and not when you will ; and
by what means he will, not by what you would. In
the mean season, hang on hope of his fatherly good-
ness, and surely you shall never be ashamed. For,
if a woman, that is natural, cannot finally forget
the child of her womb, be sure God, which is a
Father supernatural, cannot and will not forget
you. Yea, if a woman could be so forgetful, yet
God himself saith, he will not be so.
This opinion, yea, rather certain persuasion, of
God your Father through Christ, see that you
cherish ; and by all means, as well by diligent con-
sideration of his benefits, as of his loving correc-
tions, whether they are inward or outward, see that
you nourish it. Know for certain, that as the devil
goeth about nothing so much as to bring you into
doubt, whether you are God's child or no ; so what-
ever shall move you to admit that dubitation, be
assured the same comes from the devil. If you
feel in yourself not only the want of good things,
but also plenty of evil, do not therefore doubt
whether you are God's child in Christ, or no.
For, if you should believe or doubt, for your
goodness' or illness' sake, what you feel or feel not,
e2
62 JOHN BRADFORD.
then should you make Christ Jesus, for whose sake
God is your Father either nothing or else but half
Christ.
But, rather take occasion from your want of
good, and your plenty in evil, to go to God as to
your Father, so he would give you his good Spirit,
that you might feel the same, and live as his child
to his glory. And cease not, upon such prayers, to
look for comfort in God's good time, still hoping
the best, and rejecting all dubitation, and all evil
works, words, and cogitations, as the Lord shall
enable you by his good Spirit and grace ; which T
beseech him to give unto you, my good sister, for
ever. And further I pray you, that as be has made
you to be a helper unto your husband, so you would
endeavour yourself therein to show the same, as
well in soul as body, and beg grace of God thai
your endeavours may be effectual to both your
comforts in Christ.
John Bradford.
LETTER CCCXVll
John Bradford to Mrs. J. Harrington, "exhorting her
to be patient under the cross, and not to fear death*"
My dearly Beloved,
I beseech our merciful Father to comfort your
heavy and pensive heart, with his own consola-
tions in Christ; as I am assured, good sister,
he will in his good time, which look for with pa-
tience, after the example of Job, Elias, Abraham,
JOHN BRADFORD. 53
and all the dear saints of God, which are set forth
unto us as patterns of patience. God grant that we
may well cut our cloth after them ; for God is the
same God now, and the end will show that he is a
merciful Lord and full of compassion. My dear
sister, you shall unfeignedly feel it at the length,
though at the present it seemeth otherwise unto
your sense; you shall, after you are a little exer-
cised herein, find a quiet fruit of righteousness, (')
the God of grace, which hath called you unto his
eternal glory, confirming and strengthening you,
who are somewhat aflriicted, with your brethren and
sisters that are in the world ; for you suffer not
alone, as I trust you know. It comforts me to read
in your letters, that no displeasure of father, mother,
husband, nor children moves you to be ruled after
the counsel of the world ; and therefore you desire
me not to be afraid for you. Oh! my beloved,
what thanks should I give to our God and dear
Father, for this his exceeding kindness toward
you ! His name be magnified for you for ever; his
mercy be more and more multiplied unto you, in
you, and upon you, for ever and ever. God make
me thankful herefor ; but you add, that the fear of
death now and then moves you a little. Howbeit,
you say, that as I have counselled you, you will
strive thereagainst. My good Joyce, I take you at
your word: keep promise, I pray you, that is,
strive against it ; and I promise you, in the name
of the Lord, that you shall have the victory, which I
(') Heb. xii.
54 JOHN BRADFORD.
would wish you to set before your eyes also, and so
shall terror of death trouble you the less. Soldiers
going to war set not before their eyes simply the
stripe, (') but rather the victory; and, my good
sister, will not you herein follow them ? In your
travail with child, doth not the hope of the babe to
be delivered mitigate the malady ? Doth not the
sick, when taking bitter and loathsome physic, set
before him the advantage which will ensue ? And,
my dear sister, will you not learn somewhat by
these ? Consider what this life is, consider what
death is, consider what is prepared for you after
death. Concerning this life, you know that it is
full of misery, vanity, and woe. It is an exile, and
has nothing in it permanent. It is therefore com-
pared to a vapour, to a smoke, to a shadow, yea, to
a warfare, a wilderness, a vale of wretchedness,
wherein we are compassed on every side with most
fierce and fearful enemies ; and should we desire to
dwell here ? Should we desire to live in this loath-
some and laborious life ? Should we wish to tarry
in this wretchedness ? Should we take pleasure to
remain in this perilous state ? Daniel's den is not
so dreadful as is this dungeon we dwell in.
Concerning death, to tliem that are God's dear
children, as I know you are one, my tenderly be-
loved sister, what other thing is it, than the dis-
patcher of all displeasure, the end of all travail, the
door of desires, the gate of gladness, the port of
paradise, the haven of heaven, the rail of rest and
(1) The suffering and peril.
JOHN BRADFORD. 55
quietness, the entrance to felicity., the beginning of
all blissfulness ? It is the very bed of down, for
the doleful bodies of God's people to rest in, and
therefore well compared to a sleep, out of which
they shall rise and awake most fresh and lusty to
life everlasting. It is a passage to the Father, a
chariot to heaven, the Lord's messenger, a leader
unto Christ, a going to our home, a deliverance
from bondage and prison, a dismission from war, a
security from all sorrows, and a manumission from
all misery. So that the very heathen in some
places caused the day of their death to be celebrated
with mirth, melody, and minstrels ; and should we
be dismayed at it ? Should we be afraid of it ?
Should we tremble to hear of it ? Should such a
friend as it is be unwelcome ? Should the foul-
ness of his face frighten us from his good condi-
tions ? Should the hardness of his husk hinder us
from his sweet kernel ? Should the roughness of
the tide tie us to the bank and shore, there to be
drowned, rather than the desire of our home drive
us to go abroad ? Should the hardness of the
saddle set us to walk, and so to perish by the way,
rather than to leap up and endure the same a little,
and so to be where we would be ?
Concerning that which is prepared for you after
death, if I should go about to express it, the more
I should so do, the further I should be from it.
For the eye hath not seen, neither hath the ear
heard, nor the heart of man able to conceive in
any point the joy, mirth, melody, pleasure, power,
wealth, riches, honour, beauty, fellowships, dainties.
56 JOHN BRADFORD.
odours, glory, wisdom, knowledge, treasures, secu-
rity, peace, quietness, and eternal felicity, which
you shall have and enjoy, world without end, with
God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, with
the angels and archangels, with the patriarchs and
prophets, with the apostles and evangelists, with
the martyrs and confessors, and with all the saints
of God, in the palace of the Lord in heaven, the
kingdom of God, the glory of the Father. Oh !
woe to the blindness of our eyes that see not this !
Woe to the hardness of our hearts that feel not
this 1 Woe to the deafness of our ears, that hear
not this as we should do, whereby we might be so
far from fearing death, that rather we should wish for
it, crying with Simeon, " Now let thy servant depart
in peace ;" with Paul, " I desire to be dissolved,
and to be with Christ;" with David, ''When shall
I come and appear before thee !" and again, '' Oh '
woe is me, that my habitation is thus prolonged I" ( ' )
But, alas, dear sister, great is our unbelief; faint
indeed is our faith, or else night and day tears
should be our bread and drink, while it is said unto
us, where is our God ? It is a token of little love
to God if we are loath to go unto him when he
calleth. If my dearest friend, of a special favour
and tender good will, should send a horse for me
to come unto him, should I be displeased thereat ?
Yea, should not I be willing and glad to come unto
him ? And, alas ! yet if death, the Lord's palfrey,
the Lord's messenger, should come, I think I
should not be so ready, but be fearful, as you fore-
(') Psalm cxx.
JOHN BRADFORD. 57
see yourself to be ; whereby I doubt not you take
occasion to lament the weakness of your faith ;
and, seeing your need, to prepare for remedy
against the time of need, and to beg of God his
aid, strength, and comfort against that pinch ;
which, undoubtedly, you shall have, and find his
promise true, that in an acceptable time he has
heard your prayer. Such as I have no such fore-
sight of death, and therefore are at present less dis-
mayed, which will turn to our greater grief in the
plunge, save that for my part I hope he will never
tempt me further than he will make me able to
bear. Into his hands I offer myself, beseeching
him, for his Christ's sake, to keep me, soul and
body, to his kingdom and glory ; and to lead me,
order me, and dispose me as he will, in all things,
in all places, and for ever, that at the length I may
come whither I desire, that is, into his own blessed
presence, and the enjoyment of immortality with
you and his saints. Thus much I thought good to
write to you at present, to occasion you the less to
fear death, which either needeth not or booteth (')
not; and therefore even reasonable men, much
more spiritual men, labour to strive against the
fear of that which they can by no means avoid.
But of this hereafter I trust to speak with you
mouth to mouth.
Now, as to my soul, I pray and wish unto you, my
most dear sister in the Lord, whose grace guide you,
and his mercy embrade you on every side for ever.
Yours,
John Bradford.
(') Availeth.
68 WILLIAM TYNDAL.
LETTER CCCXVIII.
William Tyndal, the translator of the Bible, to John
Frith, while prisoner in the Tower.
Deably Beloved,
However the matter be, commit yourself wholly
and only unto your most loving Father and most
kind Lord, and fear not men that threaten, nor
trust men that speak fair; but trust him that is
true of promise, and able to make his word good.
Your cause is Christ's gospel, a light that must be
fed with the blood of faith. The lamp must be
dressed and snuffed daily, and oil poured in every
evening and morning, that the light go not out.
Though we are sinners, yet is the cause right. If,
when we be bufFetted for well-doing, we suffer pa-
tiently and endure, that is acceptable to God ; for
to that end we are called. For Christ also suffered
for us, leaving us an example, that we should follow
his steps, who did no sin. Hereby have we per-
ceived love, that he laid down his life for us ;
therefore we ought also to lay down our lives for
the brethren. Rejoice and be glad, for great is
your reward in heaven. For we suffer with him,
that we may also be glorified with him ; who shall
change our vile body, that it may be fashioned like
unto his glorious body, according to the working
whereby he is able even to subject all things unto
him.
Dearly beloved, be of good courage, and comfort
your soul with the hoj^e of this high reward, and
WILLIAM TYNDAL. 59
bear the image of Christ in your mortal body, that
it may at his coming be made like to his, immor-
tal; and follow the example of all your other dear
brethren, who chose to suffer in hope of a better re-
surrection. Keep your conscience pure and unde-
filed, and say nothing against that. Stick to neces-
sary things ; and remember the blasphemies of the
enemies of Christ, saying they find none but that
will abjure rather than suffer the extremity More-
over, the death of them that come again after they
have once denied, though it be accepted with God,
and all that believe, yet it is not glorious ; for the
hypocrites say. He must needs die, denying help-
eth not; but might it have holpen, they would
have denied five hundred times. Seeing it would
not help them, therefore of pure pride and mere
malice together, they speak with their mouths that
which their conscience knoweth to be false. If
you give yourself, cast yourself, yield yourself,
commit yourself, wholly and only to your lov-
ing Father, then shall his power be in you, and
make you strong; and that so strong, that you
shall feel no pain which should be to another pre-
sent death ; and his Spirit shall speak in you, and
teach you what to answer, according to his pro-
mise. He shall set out his truth by you wonder-
fully, and work for you above all that your heart
can imagine: yea, and you are not yet dead,
though the hypocrites all, with all that they can
make, have sworn your death. " Una salus victis,
nullum aperare salutem ;" {^) to look for no man's
(>) The only safety for the vanquished, is not to hope for safety.
60 WILLIAM TYNDAL.
help, brings the help of God to them that seem to
be overcome in the eyes of the hypocrites ; yea, it
shall make God to carry you through thick and
thin, for his truth's sake, in spite of all the ene-
mies of his truth. There falleth not a hair, till
his hour be come; and when his hour is come,
necessity carries us hence, though we be not wil-
ling. But, if we be willing, then have we a re-
ward and thanks. Fear not threatening therefore,
neither be overcome of sweet words; with which
twain the hypocrites shall assail you. Neither
let the persuasions of worldly wisdom bear rule
in your heart; no, though they be your friends,
that counsel you. Let Bilney be a warning to you.
Let not their visor beguile your eyes. Let not
your body faint. He that endureth to the end,
shall be saved. If the pain be above your strength,
remember, "Whatsoever ye shall ask in my name,
I will give it you." And pray to your Father in
that name, and he will ease your pain, or shorten
it. The Lord of peace, of hope, and of faith, be
with you. Amen.
William Tyndal.
Two have suffered in Antwerp, unto the great
glory of the gospel ; four at Rysels, in Flanders,
and at Luke hath there one at the least suffered,
and all nigh the same day. At Roan, in France,
they persecute, and at Paris are five doctors taken
for the gospel. See, you are not alone. Be cheer-
ful, and remember that among the hard-hearted in
England, there is a number reserved by grace ; for
REV. SAMUEL RUTHERFORD. 61
whose sakes, if need be, you must be ready to suf-
fer. Sir, if you may write, how short soever it be,
forget it not, that we may know how it goes with
you, for our heart's ease. The Lord be yet again
with you, with all his plenteousness, and fill you,
that you flow over. Amen.
LETTER CCCXIX.
Rev. S. Hutherford to the Lady Earlstone.
Mistress, Aberdeen, March 7,1637.
Grace, mercy, and peace be to you. I long to
hear how your soul prospereth. I exhort you to
go on in your journey : your day is short, and
your afternoon's sun will soon go down ; make an
end of your accounts with your Lord, for death
and judgment are tides tiiat bide no man. Salva-
tion is supposed to be at the door, and Christianity
IS thought an easy task: but I find it hard, and
the way strait and narrow, were it not that my
guide is content to wait for me, and to care for a
tired traveller. Hurt not your conscience with
any known sin. Let your children be as so many
flowers borrowed from God : if the flowers die or
wither, thank God for a summer's loan of them,
and keep good neighbourhood ; — to borrow and
lend with him. Set your heart upon heaven, and
trouble not vour spirit with this clay-idol of the
62 REV, SAMUEL RUTHERFORD.
world, which is but vanity, and hath but the lustre
of the rainbow in the air, which cometh and goeth
with a flying' March shower. Clay is the idol of
bastards, not the inheritance of the children. My
Lord hath been pleased to make many unknown
faces laugh upon me, and hath made me well con-
tent of a borrowed fire-side and a borrowed bed.
I am feasted with the joys of the Holy Ghost, and
my royal King beareth my charges honourably.
The great Messenger of the Covenant and Son
of God establish you on your rock, and keep you
to the day of His coming.
Yours, in His sweet Lord Jesus,
S. Rutherford.
LETTER CCCXX.
Rev. S. Rutherford to the Lady Kenmuire.
Anworth, June, 26, 1630.
You cannot — you must not have a more pleasant
or easy condition here, than He had, who ** through
afflictions was made perfect." We may indeed
think, — Cannot God bring us to heaven with ease
and prosperity ? Who doubteth but He can ? But
His infinite wisdom thinketh and decreeth the
contrary ; and though we cannot see a reason of
it, yet He hath a most just reason. We never
REV. SAMUEL RUTHERFORD. 63
with our eyes saw our own soul, yet we have a
soul; we see many rivers^ but we know not their
first spring and original fountain, yet they have a
beginning. Madam, when you are come to the
other side of the water, and have set down your
foot on the shore of glorious eternity, and look
back again to the waters and to your wearisome
journey, and shall see in that clear glass of end-
less glory, nearer to the bottom of God's wisdom,
you will then be forced to say, " If God had done
otherwise with me than He hath done, I had never
come to the enjoying of this crown of glory." It
is your part now to believe, and suffer, and hope,
and wait on; for I protest in the presence of that
all-discerning eye who knoweth what I write, and
what I think, that I would not want the sweet ex-
perience of the consolations of God for all the bit-
terness of affliction. Nay, whether God comes to
his children with a rod or a crown, if He comes
himself with it, it is well. Welcome, welcome
Jesus, what way soever Thou come, if we can get
a sight of Thee ! And sure I am, it is better to be
sick, provided Christ cometh to the bed-side and
draweth back the curtains, and saith, " Courage,
I am thy salvation,^' than to enjoy health, being
lusty and strong, and never to be visited of God.
The Lord Jesus be with your spirit. Your
ladyship's at all obedience,
Samuel Rutherford.
64 JOHN EVELYN, ESQ.
LETTER CCCXXI.
John Evelyn, Esq. to the Countess of Sunderland.
Mada3I, Says-court, 12 Sept. 1686.
I am not unmindful of the late command you laid
upon me, to give you a catalogue of such books as
I believed might be fit to entertain your more de-
vout and serious hours ; and I look upon it as a
peculiar grace and favour of God to your lady-
ship, that amidst so many temptations, and gran-
deur of courts, the attendants, visits, diversions,
and other circumstances of the palace, and the
way you are engaged in, you are resolved that
nothing of all this shall interrupt your duty to
God and the religion you profess, whenever it
comes in competition with the things of this world,
how splendid soever they may appear for a little
and (God knows) uncertain time: madam, it is
the best, and most grateful return you can make
to Heaven for all the blessings you enjoy, amongst
which there is none you are more happy in, than
in the virtue, early and solid piety of my Lady-
Anne, and progress of your little son. Madam,
the foundation you have laid in those two bless-
ings, will not only build, but establish your illus-
trious family, beyond all the provisions you can
make of gallant and great in the estimation of
the world; and will find the comfort of it, when
all this noise and hurry shall vanish as a dream,
and leave nothing to support us in time of need
DR. HENRY MORE. 6-^
I am persuaded you often make these reflections
from your own great judgment and experience of
the vicissitudes of things present, and prospect of
future, which is only worth our solicitude.
I am, &c.
John Evelyn.
LETTER CCCXXII.
Dr. Henry More to a Friend.
Sir,
I am glad that my professed averseness from you
and your brother's giving yourselves the trouble of
seeing me before I took coach, prevailed with you
so far as to prevent it. It had been too much
pains for so small a time of enjoying one another's
company ; and so less fitted for what it was chiefly
intended, in reference to your brother : your tender
fraternal care of whom I cannot but highly ap-
prove in you, that he may be right in all points,
both of life and belief. But I must, on the other
side, blame you, that you have such an overvalue
for my person in these things ; when exciting in
every man a sense how trusty a domestic guide
they have within, if they will faithfully and sin-
cerely follow it, may prove a more compendious
way to that happiness they ought to seek after —
their union with God, and the living under the
conduct of his Holy Spirit.
The first step to which is sincerity, or a firm re-
VOL. 111. F
66 DR. HENRY MORE.
solution of doing our duty to the best of our power
in every thing ; in embracing what is holy and vir-
tuous, and avoiding what is really sinful, or seems
to us to be so.
And then in the second place, as for those things
that are not really sinful in themselves, if we find
ourselves captivable by them, and that they would
any way enslave us; that we make it our business
to break to pieces those fetters, and so to mortify
every concupiscence that would step in betwixt us
and the divine nature communicable unto us ; and
which will certainly be revived in us, if in order
thereunto we do faithfully endeavour our disunion
from the captivating desires of the animal life,
even in things themselves indifferent, if they offer
to captivate us, and we find a reluctancy in our-
selves not to pursue them, or forego them : provided
always, that it be done consistently with the health
of our body, or without any injury, or just scandal
to any one.
And lastly, that we take all fit occasions for de-
vout meditation, and earnest prayer to God through
Jesus Christ; who has promised the assistance of
the Holy Spirit from on high, to all those that be-
lieve on his name; and that we remember, that his
mediation with the Father is chiefly for this; — by his
Spirit to subdue the power of sin in mankind, and
to raise himself a glorious and spotless church here
upon earth, according to the richness of his promises.
And this is the true faith, whereby we shall be en-
abled to overcome the world ; even our firm belief
in the power and Spirit of God, procured for us by
DR. HENRY MORE. 67
the potent mediation and intercession of our Lord
Jesus Christ.
He who is so predisposed, that he can heartily re-
ceive these three points, and act accordingly, he
will find the issue thereof blissful and glorious.
But, if a man make nothing to halt and falter in the
first, and knowingly and willingly allows himself
in any sin; or will fondly suffer himself to be cap-
tivated by any vain lust or pleasure, the event
will be to him accordingly ; the promised blessing
being only to those that hunger and thirst after
righteousness. But the unstable and hypocritical
(till they cease to be so) are excluded the holy
city, both here and for ever. But for those that are
sincere, in what they are weak, they shall be
strengthened ; and what they fail in, shall be re-
mitted to them, through the love of our Lord Jesus.
If your brother had been with me that morning,
I could not have suggested any thing more material
to him ; nor can I indeed to any one ; no, nor to
my own soul ; but the thing lieth at our own doors,
whether we will enter into, and faithfully go on in
this method, so sure and approved for the reco-
vering souls from eternal death, and from the
snares of those subtle hunters of men for their own
gain, to be masters of their persons and purses ;
proposing to them such terms of salvation, as may
best comply with their present, or any new emerg-
ing corruptions.
If this may be useful to him in any way, I have
with all faithfulness writ it for that purpose ; but
am hugely well satisfied that he has so able a mo-
f 2
68 JEREMY TAYLOR.
nitor as yourself; of so stable and sensible a spirit,
as I have lately discovered in you, in my con-
ferences with you : for which I did not a little re-
joice. And I make no question ; but, if you hold
to your sincerity, the power of the Spirit of our
Lord Jesus will carry you through all difficulties,
and make you in the conclusion more than con-
queror.
This is all for the present, but that 1 am,
Dear Sir, your affectionate friend, to serve you.
Hen. More.
LETTER CCCXXIII.
Jeremy Taylor to John Evelyn, Esq., after a pleasant
visit to his correspondent at Says-court.
Honoured and dear Sir, April 16, 1656.
I hope your servant brought my apology with
him, and that I already am pardoned, or excused
in your thoughts, that I did not return an answer
yesterday to your friendly letter. Sir, I did be-
lieve myself so very much Bound to you for your
so kind, so friendly reception of me in your Tus-
ciilanum, that I had some little wonder upon me
when I saw you making excuses that it was no
better. Sir, I came to see you and your lady, and
am highly pleased that I did so, and found all
your circumstances to be an heap and union of
blessings. But I have not either so great a fancy
and opinion of the prettiness of your abode, or so
low an opinion of your prudence and piety, as
JEREMY TAYLOR. 69
to think you can be any ways transported with
them. I know the pleasure of them is gone off
from their height before one month's possession ;
and that strangers, and seldom seers, feel the beau-
ty of them more than you who dwell with them.
I am pleased, indeed, at the order and cleanness
of all your outward things; and look vipon you
not only as a person, by way of thankfulness to
God for his mercies and goodness to you, specially
obliged to a great measure of piety, but also as one
who, being freed in great degrees from secular
cares and impediments, can, without excuse and
allay, wholly intend what you so passionately de-
sire — the service of God. But, now I am consider-
ing yours, and enumerating my own pleasures, I
cannot but add that, though I could not choose
but be delighted by seeing all about you, yet my
delices were really in seeing you severe and un-
concerned in these things, and now in finding
your affections wholly a stranger to them, and to
communicate with them no portion of your pas-
sion, but such as is necessary to him that uses
them or receive their ministries. Sir, I long truly
to converse with you; for I do not doubt but
in those liberties we shall both go bettered from
each other.
I am, in great heartiness and dearness of affec-
tion, dear Sir,
Your obliged and most affectionate friend
and servant,
Jer. Taylor.
70 DR. DODDRIDGE.
LETTER CCCXXIV.
Dr. Doddridge to Mrs. Banks, on the advantages of
regularity in the exercises of devotion ; and on the best mode
of discharging them.
Madam, March 26, 1722.
You oblige me, when I write, to assume a grave
air, and, as you are pleased to call it, to give you a
little good advice. I have really nothing to do
upon this occasion, but to refer you to your own
reflections. You know we are, generally speak-
ing, most happy in all our affairs, when we are
most regular and exact in those duties which we
immediately owe to our God ; and, as I have fre-
quently heard you observe, closet devotion is one
of the noblest means of preserving and maintain-
ing the divine life.
I believe this is a subject you are peculiarly
attached to ; and therefore, if you please, we will
discourse a little further upon it. It would indeed
be a very dangerous thing to rest in this duty, as
if it comprehended the whole of Christianity ; but
yet I cannot but look upon it as a very important
agent ; because it exerts a happy though silent in-
fluence upon all our conversation. As for in-
stance : when we are frequently upon our knees
before God in prayer, and there lamenting our
guilt and our ingratitude, and acknowledging what
dreadful things we have deserved at his hands, we
shall grow into an humble opinion of ourselves,
and consequently, as our pride is humbled, we
DR. DODDRIDGE. 71
shall not be so ready to take fire at the transient
affronts and provocations that may be offered.
We shall scarcely know how to be severe upon
the little injuries we receive from our fellow-
creatures, when we have been confessing before
our God, that we have offered him the highest in-
dignities, and begging that he would not be severe
upon us. Besides, when our hearts are melting
under the impressions of the Redeemer's love,
which they frequently are in these touching du-
ties, we shall be anxiously inquiring what we may
do to express our gratitude ; and then reason will
suggest, that we cannot do it more effectually
than by endeavouring to recommend religion to
others, and especially those we immediately con-
verse with, by a meek, obliging, condescending
behaviour. And then again, by frequent acts of
particular humiliation and repentance, of which
the closet is the proper scene, our consciences
will contract such a holy tenderness, that even
the least failing of our lives will make a deep
impression upon the mind ; and the frequent re-
turn of solemn seasons of worship will put us
upon inquiring, what we have to say to our God
upon such an occasion. And so by reflecting
every evening upon the errors of the past day, we
shall learn to avoid those of the next.
You will pardon me, madam, that I am thus par-
ticular in mentioning the advantages of a well regu-
lated closet devotion. I am far from suspecting that
you neglect it in general ; but since you will oblio:e
me to give you advice, which I am sensible does
72 DR. DODDRIDGE.
not become my age and circumstances, it shall be
this, to have some fixed time for this duty every day,
and never to break in upon it, unless there be a very
urgent necessity. I cannot but insist upon this cir-
cumstance, because I know, that, if we are not upon
our guard, business and diversions are apt to take
up too large a share of our time, and oblige us either
wholly to omit our devotions, or, what to the most
valuable purpose is much the same thing, to hurry
them over in a very hasty and contracted manner.
If such negligence be too frequent, as indeed it must
be without some such method as I propose, religious
impressions vvear off, and we do not know how to
return to our duty with the life and spirit we desire.
Such an indisposition for private devotion is almost
unavoidably attended with the visible decay of prac-
tical piety, which may prove a great hinderance to
us in our way to heaven, and give us bitter reflec-
tions for weeks and months. Perhaps, madam,
your own experience can reflect this picture; I
am sure I know one whose can.
As for the particular season for this duty, it
must be left to our own prudence. T suppose, in
a general way, we should choose that time in
which we find our spirits commonly most lively,
and when we are most secure from interruption.
Methinks, for the particular manner in which
secret devotion should be conducted, we had best
consult our own taste and the present temper of
our minds. Sometimes we shall choose one pretty
long prayer ; and sometimes a greater number of
shorter ones. Generally speaking, extemporary
DR. DODDRIDGE. 73
prayer seems preferable to forms; but now and
then we may find the compositions of others of
considerable use.
Reading the Scriptures is, no doubt, a very im-
portant part of secret devotion. And, if you will
permit me to give you my sentiments upon this
branch also, I should rather, with submission, ad-
vise you to pitch upon some select passages of the
Old Testament, particularly the writings of David
and Solomon, and some of the prophecies, than to
confine yourself to read straight on throughout the
whole volume. Certainly, the whole of the New
Testament cannot be studied too much, especially
the life and discourses of our Saviour, and the
practical part of the Epistles. I believe, however,
you will find it best not to run over many chapters
at a time, but to select a few verses, and dwell
upon them in your thoughts, intermixing pious
reflections and ejaculations as you proceed. And
really, madam, the Scriptures thus read, will
afford infinitely more satisfaction than the most
rational, elegant, and pathetic human composi-
tion.
And now, madam, I am afraid I have more rea-
son to beg your pardon for the length of my letter
than the length of my silence ; but I hope you will
believe it was meant with an honest zeal for your
service : for I am.
With the sincerest gratitude and respect.
Dear madam,
Your most obliged and most humble servant,
P. Doddridge.
DR. DODDRIDGE.
LETTER CCCXXV.
Dr. Doddridge to Miss Scott, a friend in deep spi-
ritual distress.
Dear Madam, June 25, 1745.
I return you my most affectionate thanks for the
freedom with which you have opened your mind to
me, both by repeated and unreserved conversa-
tions, and by a communication of papers intended
entirely for your own use. The consequence, I
most faithfully assure you, is, that the more I
know you, the more firmly am I convinced, not
only that you are a real, but that you are a very
advanced Christian. I have already pointed out
the principles on which I build this conclusion.
But as I have not yet been so happy as to remove
your remaining difficulties, give me leave, in this
letter, to lay before you some hints as to what I
apprehend may be the cause, and, by a Divine
blessing, in some measure at least, the cure, of the
anxiety which so much harasses your mind. And
pardon me, if in this strait of time, and in this hour
which with pleasure, for your service, I take from
my sleep, before the journey and labours of to-
morrow, I do but touch upon particulars, and give
short hints, instead of illustrating, or reasoning
upon them at large.
Now, as to the causes of your present distress, I
apprehend the following, among others, are the
chief and most peculiar; fori shall not mention
those two grand cardinal sources of all our dis-
DR. DODDRIDGE- 76
tress, — some remainder of sin in the best hearts
while they continue here, and the artifice and ma-
lice of our common enemy. What is most pecu-
liar seems to be, 1. The weakness of animal nature,
which, after the attacks you have borne, must
necessarily be very feeble, unless it had been
strengthened by a miracle, which even in such a
case we have no warrant to expect. 2. The extra-
ordinary elevation of devotion, which at some
times you have known, and particularly when
you were first setting out in religion. 3. In con-
sequence of this, an ardent desire of equalling
all your former fervour of devotion, in the present
infirm state of your health ; by the very desire and
endeavour of which, I heartily wish that you may
not utterly ruin it. 4. A hard and unjust conclu-
sion which you have hence drawn against your-
self, as if you were one of the most ungrateful and
criminal of our race, that excites an indignation
against yourself, which you think you can never feel
with sufficient sensibility. 5. The sublime ideas
which you have formed to yourself of the spi-
ritual life, in which you seem not to make suffi-
cient allowance, either for the natural infirmities
of this our animal frame when in its best state, nor
for the avocations inseparable from the life of one
who is not absolutely a recluse from the world. I
really apprehend these to be the causes of your
disquietude.
With relation to the proper method of cure, the
following particulars present themselves, which I
wish I had time better to express and digest. 1. To
76 DR. DODDRIDGE.
lay it down as a certain principle, that religion
consists more in an intelligent, rational, and deter-
minate choice of the will than in any ardent trans-
port of the affections. 2. To consider that there is
a certain degree of afflicting ourselves for past sins,
and for present imperfections, which is so far from
being our duty, that it is very likely to prove a
snare, and to produce consequences displeasing to
our gracious Father in heaven, and injurious both
to ourselves and others. 3. Settle it deliberately
in your understanding as a certain truth, that the
grand security of the soul lies in deliberately
entrusting itself to Christ, as chosen in all his
offices; and in devoting itself to God through
him, according to the tenor of the Christian cove-
nant : and in steadily endeavouring to practise
what the word of God requires, and to forbear
every thing which it forbids, and in referring all
its concerns, not excepting even the degrees of its
spiritual comfort and enjoyment, to his wise and
gracious determination. 4. In consequence of this,
be often, and indeed daily, renewing your cove-
nant with God, in the manner which that most ex-
cellent servant of Christ, your ever honoured and
beloved father, has so intelligently, affectionately,
and frequently recommended. 5. Let your devo-
tions be reduced within narrow limits, and be ra-
ther frequent and short, than protracted to any
great length ; and in your addresses at the throne
of Grace, be more intent upon the sincerity of the
heart, and the calm fixedness of the thoughts, than
about the flow of the aflections, which are not and
DR. DODDRIDGE. 77
cannot be immediately in our own power; but
may, humanly speaking, depend upon a thousand
physical causes, the nature of which we do not so
much as imagine. 6. Consider how much of reli-
gion consists in trusting in God, in hoping in his
mercy, and in rejoicing in Him ; and how suitable
this is to the peculiar constitution of the gospel, and
the character which Christ our Mediator bears ; by
consequence, therefore, how essential a branch of
gratitude it is, and how much a tender conscience
should be upon its guard that it does not fail here.
7. Remember continually, that after all, it is by
faith in the merits and intercession of Christ, and
not by the perfection of our works, that we are to
obtain justification and life; and that the best of
Christians, while they are in this world, have their
imperfections ; and may, and must, under a sense
of them, apply daily to the great Advocate, and
renew the actings of their faith upon his efficacious
blood and intercession. 8. Make yourself fami-
liarly acquainted with the promises of God relat-
ing to the pardon of sin, the imparting grace to
the soul that seeks it; and choose for sometime
every morning some comfortable promise to be the
subject of your meditation ; and now and then em-
ploy that fine talent which God has given you for
poetical composition, in paraphrasing such Scrip-
tures in short hymns. 9. Endeavour to exert your-
self as much as possible in attempts of usefulness,
by conversing with the children who are so happy as
to be the objects of your pious care, and with those
persons who are in circumstances that bear any re-
78 DR. DODDRIDGE.
semblance to your own. 10. Disburden yourself, as
much as possible, of every anxious thought relating
to futurity, whether regarding temporals or spiritu-
als ; confine your views to present duties, and leave
future contingencies in the hands of God. 11. Be
thankful for the least glimmering of hope, and for
any kind and degree of consolation which God is
pleased to give you ; and take great heed that you
do not suspect those comforts which lead you to
God and happiness to be delusions, merely be-
cause they are not so permanent and effectual as
you could wish, lest you should injure that great
Agent to whom you are so highly obliged, and
whom you fear so tenderly to grieve. 12. In one
word, study by all means to nourish the love of
God in your heart; breathe forth, with humble
tenderness, the genuine impressions of it; and as
human nature must have its weary intervals, de-
light to look to God in them, as a being who
penetrates the inmost recesses of the heart, and sees
that secret tendency of soul to him, which I have
neither tears nor words to express. " Lord, thou
knowest that I love thee :" or that I would ; " thou
k no west I would prefer the sensible exercises of it
to any other delight." By this method the habits
of Divine love will strengthen ; and, I verily be-
lieve, that time will at length produce such a con-
sciousness of it, that you will be no more able
to doubt of a share in it than of your own exist-
ence.
This, madam, is the advice which, though not
expressed with the accuracy I could wish, I would
REV. GEORGE WHITFIELD. 79
recommend to you as the most important I can give.
My earnest prayers for you, and those which I de-
sire daily to repeat, are that God himself may be
your comforter, and pour out upon your mournful
and wounded heart the oil of gladness, in a rich
abundance. To know that I have been, in any
instance, the instrument of reviving so excellent a
spirit, would give me unutterable joy, and I should
esteem it among the greatest honours God has
ever bestowed upon, dear madam.
Your most affectionate Friend,
and faithful humble servant,
P. Doddridge.
LETTER CCXXVI.
Rev. George Whitfield to Mrs. D .
Dear Madam, Savannah, Jan. 31, 1740.
I rejoice to hear that you are likely to be cast out
of your mother's will, only for following Christ.
This may be only the beginning of temptations.
God, I believe, out of love, will try you to the ut-
termost. You have drank deep of heavenly com-
forts; you must pledge our Lord in his cup of
sufferings. Those who saw him on Mount Tabor
afterwards were with him in the garden. But
fear not — the Lord is with you : — neither men
nor devils shall hurt you. The sweet communion
we have had with God, and through him with one
another, often comforts my soul. Who knows.
80 JOHN WESLEY.
but that time may be again repeated ? Indeed, I
want words as well as time to express with what
thankfulness I desire to subscribe myself, dear
madam.
Your unworthy brother
And obliged servant in our common Lord,
G. W.
LETTER CCXXVII.
John Wesley to Mr. Knox, expostulating with him on an
apparent declension of religious zeal.
Dear Sir, SligOjMay 30, 1765.
Probably this will be the last trouble of the kind
which you will receive from me. If you receive it
in the same spirit wherein it is wrote, I shall be
glad. If not, my reward is with the Most High. I
did not choose it should be delivered till I was
gone, lest you should think I wanted something
from you. By the blessing of God, I want nothing,
only that you should be happy in time and in eter-
nity.
Still I cannot but remember the clear light you
had with regard to the nature of real scriptural
Christianity. You saw what heart religion meant,
and the gate of it, justification. You had earnest
desires to be a partaker of the whole gospel bless-
ing : and you discovered the sincerity of those de-
sires, by the steps you took in your family. So
that in every thing you was hastening to be, not al-
most, but altogether, a Christian.
JOHN WESLEY. 81
Where is that light now ? Do you now see that
true religion is not a negative or an external thing ;
but the life of God in the soul of man ; the image
of God stamped upon the heart ? Do you now
see, that in order to this, we are justified freely,
through the redemption which is in Christ Jesus ?
Where are the desires after this, which you once
felt? the hungering and thirsting after righteous-
ness ? And where are the outward marks of a soul
groaning after God, and refusing to be comforted
with any thing less than his love ?
Will you say, "But if I had gone on in that
way, I should have lost my friends and my reputa-
tion ?" This is partly true. You would have lost
most of those friends who neither love nor fear
God. Happy loss ! These are the men who do
you more hurt than all the world besides. These
are the men whom, if ever you would be a real
Christian, you must avoid as you would avoid hell-
fire. " But then they will censure me." So they
will. They will say you are a fool, a madman, and
what not. But what are you the worse for this ?
Why, the Spirit of glory and of Christ shall rest upon
you. " But it will hurt me in my business." Sup-
pose it should, the favour of God would make large
amends. But very probably it would not. For the
winds and the seas are in God's hands, as well as
the hearts of men. "But it is inconsistent with my
duty to the church." Can a man of understanding
talk so, and talk so in earnest ? Is it not rather a
copy of his countenance ? Indeed, if you mean,
" inconsistent with my pleasing this or that clergy-
VOL. III. G
82 JOHN WESLEY.
man," I allow it. But let them be pleased or dis-
pleased, please thou God. But are these clergy-
men the church ? Unless they are holy men,
earnestly loving and serving God, they are not even
members of the church ; they are no part of it.
And unless they preach the doctrines of the church,
contained in her articles and liturgy, they are no
true ministers of the church, but are eating her
bread and tearing out her bowels !
" But you will not leave the church." You
never will by my advice: I advise just the con-
trary : I advise you to lose no opportunity of at-
tending the service of the church, and receiving
the Lord^s supper, and of showing your regard for
all her appointments. I advise, steadily to adhere
to her doctrine in every branch of it; particularly
with regard to the two fundamental points, — ^justi-
fication by faith and holiness. But above all, I
cannot but earnestly entreat you, not to rest till
you experience what she teaches; till (to sum up
all in one word) God cleanses the thoughts of your
heart by the inspiration of his Holy Spirit, that
you may perfectly love him, and worthily magnify
his holy name. Unless this be done, what will it
profit you to increase your fortune, to preserve the
fairest reputation, and to gain the favour of the
most learned, the most ingenious, and the most ho-
nourable clergymen in the kingdom ? What will
it profit a man to gain all these, and to lose his own
soul ?
I know that to God all things are possible :
therefore it is possible you may take this kindly.
JOHN WESLEY. 83
If SO, I shall hope to receive a line from you. If
not, let it be forgotten till we meet at the judgment-
seat of Christ.
I am, dear Sir,
Your affectionate servant.
LETTER CCCXXVIII.
John Wesley to Mr. Blackwell.
Bristol, September 24, 1754.
Although I hope to see you in about a fortnight,
yet I could not be satisfied without sending you a
few lines first. Since I left London, I have had
many thoughts concerning you ; and sometimes
uneasy ones. I have been jealous over you, lest
you should not duly improve the numerous talents
with which God has entrusted you ; nay, I have
been afraid lest your very desire of improving them
should grow weaker, rather than stronger. If so, by
what means is it to be accounted for ? What has
occasioned this feebleness of mind ? May it not
partly be occasioned by your conversing more than
is necessary (for so far as it is necessary it does not
hurt us) with men that are without God in the
world ; that love, think, talk of earthly things only ?
partly by your giving way to a false shame, (and
that in several instances,) which the more you in-
dulge, it increases the more ? and partly by allow-
ing too large a place in your thoughts and aflfec-
G 2
84 JOHN WESLEY.
tions even to so innocent an enjoyment as that of a
garden ? If this leaves you fewer opportunities of
hearing the word which is able to save your soul,
may not you even hereby grieve the Holy Spirit,
and be more a loser than you are sensible of? I
know both Mrs. Blackwell and you desire to please
God in all things. You will therefore, I know, re-
ceive these hints as they are intended; not as a
mark of disesteem, but rather of the sincerity with
which
I am, dear sir.
Your ever affectionate servant.
LETTER CCCXXIX.
John Wesley to Miss .
February 21, 1762.
Probably, this may be the last trouble of the kind
which you will receive from me. Therefore you
may forgive me this; and the rather, when you
consider my motives to it. You know I can have
no temporal view ; I can have none but a faint,
distant hope (because with God all things are pos-
sible) of doing some service to one whom I love.
And this may answer the question which you
might naturally ask, "What would you have?
What do you want with me?" I want you, not to
be a convert to my opinions, but to be a member of
Christ, a child of God, and an heir of his kingdom.
JOHN WESLEY. 85
Be any thing-, as to outward profession, so you are
lowly in heart ; so you resist and conquer every
motion of pride, and have that mind in you which
was also in Christ Jesus. Be what you please be-
sides ; only be meek and gentle, and in patience
possess your soul ; so that one may truly say to
you,
" Calm thou ever art within,
All unruffled, all serene."
Hear what preacher you will ; but hear the voice
of God, and beware of prejudice and every unkind
temper : beware of foolish and hurtful desires, or
they will pierce you through with many sorrows.
In one word, be any thing but a trifler, a trifler
with God and your own soul. It was not for this
that God gave you
A mind superior to the vulgar herd.
No : but that you might employ all your talents to
the glory of Him that gave them. O do not grieve
the Holy Spirit of God I Is he not still striving-
with you ? striving to make you, not almost, but
altogether, a Christian ? Indeed you must be all
or nothing ; a saint or a devil ; eminent in sin, or
holiness ! The good Lord deliver you from every
snare, and guide your feet in the way of peace !
How great a pleasure would this give to all your
real friends, and in particular to
Your affectionate servant for Christ's sake.
86 JOHN WESLEY.
LETTER CCCXXX.
John Wesley to Miss , on her coming into possession of
a large fortune.
Colchester, Blarch 20, 1759.
My wife. Miss , surprised me last night by in-
forming me you are left mistress of a large fortune.
Shall I say, agreeably surprised me ? I cannot tell ;
because I believe there is another world ; and I do not
know what influence this change may have on your
condition. Therefore I am in fear and in hope. You
may be hereby far more happy, or far more miser-
able, in eternity ! O make a stand ! Consider the
situation you are in ; perhaps never before were
you in so great danger. You know a little of your
natural tempers: now you have means of indulging,
and thereby inflaming, them to the uttermost. And
how many will incite you so to do ! How few will
dare to warn you against it ! Now what food will
you have for pride ! what infinite temptations to
think more highly than you ought to think ! You
do so already. But O, where will you stop ? The
good Lord arrest the storm in mid career ! How
impetuously now, unless God interpose, must self-
will whirl you along ! How deeply, unless he help,
will you shortly be immersed in practical atheism,
as ten thousand things will concur to drive God out
of your thoughts, as much as if he were not in the
world. But, above all, how will you escape from
being swallowed up in idolatry ? love of the world,
such as you never knew before ?
JOHN WESLEY. 87
Hitherto you have been greatly superior to every
delicacy in food : but even this may assault you
now ; and perhaps raise in you other desires which
you are now a stranger to. At present, you are
above the follies of dress ; but will you be so a
twelvemonth hence ? May you not easily slide
into the pride of life, in this as well as other in-
stances ? especially considering how your vanity
will be gratified thereby ? For who will not ad-
mire and applaud your admirable taste ? It will
only remain for you to marry some agreeable per-
son, that has much wit and sense, with little or no
religion ; then it is finished ! Either you will be
throughly miserable in this world, or miserable to
eternity.
" But what business is this of yours ? Cannot
you let me alone ? What have I to do witb you ?"
Believe me, I could very easily let you alone, if I
had not a real and tender good-will toward you ;
and if I did not know (what perhaps you do not)
that you have need even of me. You want friends
who understand you well, and who dare tell you
the whole, plain truth ; and yet not in a surly, im-
perious manner ; for then you could not receive it.
I have endeavoured to do this once more. Will
not you forgive me ? I cannot but think, if you do
not thank, you will at least excuse.
Your affectionate servant.
88 JOHN WESLEY.
LETTER CCCXXXT.
JoHK Wesley to a Lady ; a member of the society.
February 7, 177^-
I have found some of the uneducated poor who
have exquisite taste and sentiment ; and many,
very many, of the rich who have scarcely any at all.
But I do not speak of this : I want you to converse
more, abundantly more, with the poorest of the
people, who, if they have not taste, have souls^
which you may forward in their way to heaven.
And they have (many of them) faith, and the love
of God, in a larger measure than any persons I
know. Creep in among these, in spite of dirt, and
a hundred disgusting circumstances ; and thus put
off the gentlewoman. Do not confine your conver-
sation to genteel and elegant people. I should
like this as well as you do : but I cannot discover a
precedent for it in the life of our Lord, or any of
his apostles. My dear friend, let you and I walk
as he walked.
I now understand you with regard to the P s ;
but I fear in this you are too delicate. It is certain
their preaching is attended with the power of God
to the hearts of many ; and why not to yours ? Is
it not owing to a want of simplicity ? " Are you
going to hear Mr Wesley ?" said a friend to Mr.
Blackwell. " No," he answered, " I am going to
hear God: I listen to him, whoever preaches; other-
wise I lose all my labour."
JOHN WESLEY. 89
*• You will only be content to convert worlds ?
You shall hew wood, or carry brick and mortar:
and when you do this in obedience to the order of
Providence, it shall be more profitable to your own
soul than the other." You may remember Mr. De
Renty's other remark : " I then saw that a well-in-
structed Christian is never hindered by any person
or thing. For whatever prevents his doing good
works, gives him a fresh opportunity of submitting
his will to the will of God ; which at that time is
more pleasing to God, and more profitable to his
soul, than any thing else which he could possibly
do."
LETTER CCCXXXII.
John Wesley to the Same.
February 26, 1776.
What I advise you to is, not to contract a friend-
ship, or even acquaintance, with poor, inelegant,
uneducated persons; but frequently, nay, con-
stantly, to visit the poor, the widow, the sick, the
fatherless, in their affliction ; and this, although
they should have nothing to recommend them, but
that they are bought with the blood of Christ. It
is true, this is not pleasing to flesh and blood.
There are a thousand circumstances usually at-
tending it which shock the delicacy of our nature,
or rather of our education. But yet the blessing
which follows this labour of love will more than ba-
lance the cross.
90 JOHN WESLEY.
" To be uneasy under obligations which we can-
not repay," is certainly a fruit of diabolical gene-
rosity ; and therefore Milton, with great propriety,
ascribes it to the devil, and makes him speak quite
in character, when he says, concerning his obliga-
tions to God himself, —
So burdensome still paying, still to owe.
I am quite of another mind ; I entirely agree with
you, that the more sensible we are of such obliga-
tions, the more happy we are. Surely this yoke is
easy, and this burden is light !
LETTER CCCXXXIII.
John Wesley to the Same. Business no hinderance to
devotion.
December 10, 1777-
You do not at all understand my manner of life.
Though I am always in haste, I am never in a
hurry ; because I never undertake any more work
than I can go through with perfect calmness of
spirit. It is true, I travel four or five thousand
miles in a year. But I generally travel alone in
my carriage ; and, consequently, am as retired ten
hours in a day, as if I was in a wilderness. On
other days, I never spend less than three hours
(frequently ten or twelve) in the day alone. So
there are few persons in the kingdom who spend so
many hours secluded from all company. Yet I
JOHN WESLEY. 91
find time to visit the sick and the poor; and I
must do it, if I believe the Bible, if I believe these
are the marks whereby the Shepherd of Israel will
know and judge his sheep at the great day; there-
fore, when there is time and opportunity for it,
who can doubt but this is matter of absolute duty ?
When I was at Oxford, and lived almost like a
hermit, I saw not how any busy man could be
saved. I scarce thought it possible for a man to
retain the Christian spirit, amidst the noise and
bustle of the world. God taught me better by my
own experience. I had ten times more business in
America (that is, at intervals) tlian ever I had in my
life. But it was no hinderance to silence of spirit.
Mr. Boehm was chaplain to Prince George of
Denmark ; secretary to him and Queen Anne ;
principal manager of almost all the public charities
in the kingdom, and employed in numberless pri-
vate charities. An intimate friend, knowing this,
said to him when they were alone, " Sir, are you
not hurt by that amazing hurry of business ? I
have seen you in your office, surrounded with peo-
ple, listening to one, dictating to another, and at
the same time writing to a third : could you then
retain a sense of the presence of God ?" He an-
swered, " All that company, and all that business,
no more hindered or lessened my communion with
God, than if I had been all alone in a church, kneel-
ing before the communion-table." Was it not the
same case with him to whom Gregory Lopez said,
" Go and be a hermit in Mexico ?" I am con-
cerned for you ; I am sorry you should be content
92 REV. JOHN NEWTON.
with lower degrees of usefulness and holiness than
you are called to. But I cannot help it ; so I sub-
mit ; and am still.
My dear Miss M ,
Yours in sincere affection.
LETTER CCCXXXIV.
Rev. John Newton to a Nobleman. — A very fanciful
thought turned to excellent account.
My Lord, August, 1775.
I have no apt preface or introduction at hand, and
as I have made it almost a rule not to study for
what I should offer your lordship, I therefore beg
leave to begin abruptly. It is the future promised
privilege of believers in Jesus, that they shall be as
the angels; and there is a sense in which we should
endeavour to be as the angels now. This is inti-
mated to us where we are taught to pray, " Thy will
be done on earth, as it is in heaven." I have some-
times amused myself with supposing an angel
should be appointed to reside awhile upon earth
in a human body ; not in sinful flesh, like ours,
but in a body free from infirmity, and still preserv-
ing an unabated sense of his own happiness in the
favour of God, and of his unspeakable obligation
to his goodness; — and then I have tried to judge,
as well as I could, how such an angel would com-
port himself in such a situation. I know not that
REV. JOHN NEWTON. 93
I ever enlarged upon the thought, either in preach-
ing or writing. Permit me to follow it a little in
this paper.
Were I acquainted with this heavenly visitant, I
am willing to hope I should greatly reverence him ;
and, if permitted, be glad in some cases to consult
him. In some, but not in all ; for I think my fear
would be equal to my love. Methinks I could
never venture to open my heart freely to him, and
unfold to him my numberless complaints and infir-
mities ; for, as he could have no experience of the
like things himself, I should suppose he would not
know how fully to pity me, indeed hardly how to
bear with me, if I told him all. Alas ! what a pre-
posterous, strange, vile creature should I appear to
an angel if he knew me as I am ! It is well for
me that Jesus was made lower than the angels, and
that the human nature he assumed was not distinct
from the common nature of mankind, though se-
cured from the common depravity; and because
he submitted to be under the law in our name and
stead, though he was free from sin himself, yet sin
and its consequences, being (for our sakes) charged
upon him, he acquired, in the days of his humi-
liation, an experimental sympathy with his poor
people. He knows the effects of sin and tempta-
tion upon us, by that knowledge whereby he knows
all things ; but he knows them likewise in a way
more suitable for our comfort and relief, by the
sufferings and exercises he passed through for us.
Hence arises encouragement. We have not an
high-priest who cannot be touched with a feeling
94 REV. JOHN NEWTON.
of our infirmities, but was in all points tempted
even as we are. When I add to this, the consi-
deration of his power, promises, and grace, and
that he is exalted on purpose to pity, relieve, and
save, I gather courage. With him I dare be free,
and am not sorry, but glad, that he knows me per-
fectly, that not a thought of my heart is hidden
from him. For without this infinite and exact
knowledge of my disease, bow could he eflfectually
administer to my cure? But whither am I ramb-
ling ? I seem to have lost sight of the angel al-
ready. I am now coming back, that if he cannot
effectually pity me, he may at least animate and
teach me.
In the first place, I take it for granted this angel
would think himself a stranger and pilgrim upon
earth. He would not forget that his TrcXtrevjua was
in heaven. Surely he would look upon all the
bustle of human life (further than the design of his
mission might connect him with it) with more in-
difference than we look upon the sports of children,
or the amusements of idiots and lunatics, which
give us an uneasiness, rather than excite a desire
of joining in them. He would judge of every thing
around him, by the reference and tendency it had
to promote the will of him that sent him ; and the
most specious or splendid appearances, considered
in any other view, would make no impression u]3on
him.
Consequently, as to his own concernment, all
his aim and desire would be to fulfil the will of
God. All situations would be alike to him ; whe-
REV. JOHN NEWTON. 95
ther he was commanded, as in the case of Senna-
cherib, to destroy a mighty army with a stroke ;
or, as in the case of Hagar, to attend upon a wo-
man, a servant, a slave; both services would be to
him equally honourable and important, because he
was in both equally pleasing his Lord, which
would be his element and his joy, whether he was
appointed to guide the reins of empire, or to sweep
the streets.
Again, the angel would doubtless exhibit a
striking example of benevolence ; for being free
from selfish bias, filled with a sense of the love of
God, and a knowledge of his adorable perfections,
his whole heart, and soul, and strength, would be
engaged and exerted, both from duty and inclina-
tion, to relieve the miseries, and advance the hap-
piness of all around him ; and in this he would
follow the pattern of Him who doth good to all,
commanding his sun to rise, and his rain to fall,
upon the just and the unjust; — though, from the
same pattern, he would show an especial regard to
the household of faith. An angel would take but
little part in the controversies, contentions, and
broils which might happen in the time of his so-
journing here, but would be a friend to all, so far
as consistent with the general good.
The will and glory of God being the angel's
great view, and having a more lively sense of the
realities of an unseen world than we can at present
conceive, he would certainly, in the first and chief
place, have the success and spread of the glorious
gospel at heart. Angels, though not redeemed
96 RE^. JOHN NEWTOX.
with blood, yet feel themselves nearly concerned
in the work of redemption. They admire its mys-
teries. We may suppose them well informed in
the works of creation and providence. But (unlike
too many men, who are satisfied with the know-
ledge of astronomy, mathematics, or history) they
search and pry into the counsels of redeeming love,
rejoice at the conversion of a sinner, and think
themselves well employed to be ministering spi-
rits, to minister to the heirs of salvation. It would
therefore be his chief delight to espouse and pro-
mote their cause, and to employ all his talents and
influence in spreading the favour and knowledge of
the name of Jesus, which is the only and effectual
means of bringing sinners out of bondage and
darkness, into the glorious liberty of the sons of
God.
Lastly, Though his zeal for the glory of his
Lord would make him willing to continue here
till he had finished the work given him to do, he
would, I am persuaded, look forward with desire
to the appointed moment of hisrecal, that he might
be freed from beholding and mixing with the sin
and vanity of those who know not God, render his
account with joy, and be welcomed to heaven with
a " Well done, good and faithful servant." Surely
he would long for this, as a labourer for the setting
sun ; and would not form any connection with the
things of time, which should prompt him to wish
his removal protracted for a single hour beyond
the period of his prescribed service.
Alas, why am not I more like an angel ! My
REV. JOHN NEWTON. 97
views in my better judgment are the same. My
motives and obligations are even stronger ; an an-
gel is not so deeply indebted to the grace of God,
as a believing sinner, who was once upon the brink
of destruction, has been redeemed with blood, and
might justly have been, before now, shut up with
the powers of darkness, without hope ! Yet the
merest trifles are sufficient to debase my views,
damp my activity, and impede my endeavours in
the Lord's service, though I profess to have no other
end or desire which can make a continuance in life
worthy my wish.
I am, &c.
LETTER CCCXXXV.
Rev. John Newton to Miss M .
Dear Madam, September 18, 1762.
I rejoice to find that the Lord prospers his work in
your hearts, and that you can say from experience,
he is a faithful and good shepherd. — Oh ! happy
they who are in such a case, who know for them-
selves how good it is to draw near unto him, to sit
down and rest under his refreshing shadow, and
feast upon his pleasant fruits !
Through grace I also continue waiting on him
after my feeble measure ; and I trust in his love,
that, though I sometimes faint, I shall not utterly
VOL. III. H
98 REV. JOHN NEWTON.
fall ; though I too often step aside, he will not
suffer me to wander quite away.
How happy should we be, could we always be-
lieve the glorious things which are spoken to us as
children, in the word of him who cannot fail of
accomplishing his promise. But are we not fools
and slow of heart in this matter ? at least I am,
and hence proceed my many complaints. — Alas !
what a hard heart have I, that can doubt, and re-
pine, and limit the Lord, after all the great things
he has shown me. Wretched heart, that can stand
it out still, against oaths, and promises, and blood.
Methinks I may sum up all my wants and prayers
in one sentence — Lord, give me faith ! Oh ! if
faith was in daily exercise, how little would the
world, and the things of time and sense, seem in
my eyes. What a dreadful thing would sin ap-
pear, that spilt my Saviour's blood. And how
would my very heart rejoice at the sound of Jesus'
name ! If I had faith to pierce within the veil,
and see what is going forward in yon blessed world,
how earnestly should I long to be dissolved that I
might join in worship there ! and how willingly
should I spend and be spent for the gospel's sake.
However, though it is not with us as we would
wish, we have reason to bless God it is so well with
us as it is; that we are not altogether dead in tres-
passes and sins, strangers and enemies to the glo-
rious gospel of the blessed God. We have reason
to be thankful that we know something of our dis-
ease and our physician. He who has taken our
case in hand will, in his own time, perfect the
REV. JOHN NEWTON. 99
cure. An hour is coming on when we shall no
more say, I am sick ; we shall see him as he is ;
w^e shall be like him ; we shall weep no more ; all
tears shall be wiped from our eyes, and the days of
our mourning shall be ended.
Having, therefore, such promises, let us be ani-
mated to run the way of the Lord's commandments
with an enlarged heart. Let the joy of the Lord
be our strength. ^Opposition, temptation, afflic-
tion we must expect ; these things lie in the path-
way to glory ; but we may remember him who hath
trod the path before us, leaving us an example
that we should follow his steps. I say, tempted
and opposed we may be ; but it is not probable
that we shall be spit upon, buffeted, and crucified
for him, as he was for us.
We shall have but a taste, at the most, of that
bitter cup which he drank off to the dregs. And
he is near us to support us in our distresses, to
carry us through, to make us more than conquer-
ors, and then to put the crown of righteousness
and victory on our heads with his own hands. Let
us, then, go forth without the camp, bearing his
reproach ; let us not hang down our heads like
dulrushes, but rather count it all joy if we are
called to the honour of suffering disgrace, or any
kind of inconvenience, for his name's sake. Above
all, let us pray to have our conversation as becometh
the gospel of Christ; that those who speak evil
may be ashamed and put to silence, when they
behold our meekness, humility, and Christian car-
riage.
H 2
100 RE^. JOHN NEWTON.
May the grace of onr Lord Jesus Christ be with
you all. Remember to pray for your unworthy
friend.
LETTER CCCXXXVI.
Rev. John Newton to Mn. W , after a season of severe
affliction.
Dear Sir, Jan. 25, 17CG.
You (and consequently Mrs. W , for you
cannot suffer alone) have lately been in the fur-
nace, and are now brought safely out. I hope
you have much to say of the grace, care, and
skill of the great Refiner, who watched over you ;
and that you have lost nothing but dross. Let this
experience be treasured up in your hearts for the
use of future times. Other trials will come ; but
you have found the Lord faithful to his promise,
and have good encouragement to trust him again.
I would take the liberty to address myself par-
ticularly to dear Mrs. upon a theme my heart
is well acquainted with. You know your weak
side ; endeavour to set a double guard of prayer
there. Our earthly comforts would be doubly
sweet, if we could but venture them without
anxiety in the Lord's hands. And where can we
lodge them so safely ? Is not the first gift, the
continuance, the blessing which makes them pleas-
ing, all from him ? AVas not his design in all
this, that we should be happy in them P How
REV. JOHN NEWTON. 101
then can we fear that he will threaten them, much
less take them away, but with a view to our further
benefit ? Let us suppose the thing we are most
afraid of actually to happen. Can it come a
moment sooner, or in any other way than by his
appointment ? Is he not gracious and faithful to
support us under the stroke ? Is he not rich
enough to give us something better than ever he
will take away ? Is not the light of his counte-
nance better than life and all its most valued en-
joyments ? Is not this our time of trial, and are we
not travelling towards a land of light ? — Methinks,
when we view things in the light of eternity, it is
much the same whether the separating stroke
arrives at the end of seven or seventy years ;
since, come when it will, it must and will be felt ;
but one draught of the river of pleasure at God's
right hand will make us forget our sorrows for
ever; or the remembrance, if any, will only
serve to heighten our joys. Farther, what life did
he lead whom we call our Master and our Lord ?
Was not he a man of sorrows and acquainted
with grief? Has he marked out one way to hea-
ven with his painful footsteps, and shall we ex-
pect, or even wish, to walk in another ? With
such considerations as these, we should endeavour
to arm our minds, and pray to the Lord to fix a
sense of them in our hearts, and to renew it from
time to time ; that, when changes are either
feared or felt, we may not be like the people of
the world, who have no hope, no refuge, no
throne of grace, but may be enabled to glorify
102 REV. JOHN NEWTON.
our God in the fire, and give proof that his grace
is sufficient for us in every state. It is neither
comfortable for ourselves, nor honourable to our
profession, to start at every shaking leaf. If we
are sensible of this, mourn over our infirmities
before the Lord, and faithfully strive in prayer
against the fear that easily besets us; he can, and
he will, strengthen us with strength in our souls,
and make us more than conquerors, according
to his sure promise.
A proneness to idolatry is our bosom sin : I have
smarted for it. I dare not say I am cured ; yet I
would hope the Lord's Avonderful interchange of
comforts and chastisements have not been wholly
lost upon me, but have been accompanied with
some measure of his sanctifying grace. At pre-
sent, that is, ever since my settlement at ,
I have been favoured with an interval of ease. I
never had so long and general an exemption from
sharp trials. When I consider and feel what I
am, I am amazed at his forbearance. Surely I
deserve to be visited with breach upon breach.
But his compassions are infinite. Yet I must not
expect to have always fair weather in a changeable
world. I would desire neither to presume that my
mountain stands strong, nor yet to afflict myself
with needless apprehensions of what a day may
bring forth. O that I could improve the present,
and cheerfully commit the future to him who does
all things wisely and well, and has promised that
all shall work together for good !
I am, dear sir,
Your very affectionate and obliged servant.
REV. JOHN NEWTON. 103
LETTER CCXXXVII.
Rev. John Newton to Mr. W .
My dear Sir, September 14, 1772.
You are hungering and thirsting to feel the power
and savour of the truth in your soul, humbling,
quickening, strengthening, comforting you, fill-
ing you with peace and joy, and enabling you
to abound in the fruits of righteousness, which
are, by Jesus Christ, to the glory and praise
of God. Are these your desires ? He that has
wrought them in you is God ; and he will not
disappoint you. He would not say, " Open your
mouth wide," if he did not design to fill it. O ! he
gives bountifully ; gives like a king. A little is
too much for our deserts ; but much is too little
for his bounty. Let me tell you a heathen story :
— It is said, that a man once asked Alexander to
give him some money, I think, to portion oflf a
daughter. The king bid him go to his treasurer
and demand what he pleased. He went and de-
manded an enormous sum. The treasurer was
startled, said he could not part with so much
without an express order, and went to the king,
and told him he thought a small part of the money
the man had named might serve for the occasion.
" No," said the king, " let him have it all. I like
that man ; he does me honour : he treats me like
a king, and proves by what he asks, that he be-
104 REV. JOHN NEWTON.
lieves me to be both rich and generous.'^ Come,
my friend, let us go to the throne of grace, and
put up such petitions as may show that we have
honourable views of the riches and bounty of our
King. Alas ! I prefer such poor scanty desires, as
if I thought he was altogether such a one as my-
self. Speak a word for me when you are near
him; entreat him to increase my love, faith, hu-
mility, zeal, and knowledge, a thousand-fold.
Ah ! I am poor and foolish ; I need a great sup-
ply ; I cannot dig, and yet am often unwilling to
beg.
I am sincerely, dear sir.
Your much obliged and affectionate servant,
J. Newton
LETTER CCCXXXVIII.
Rev. John Neavton to Mr. Cow per.
Mv DEAR Sir, Charles Square, May 6, 1780.
You will have no reason to apply to me Luke,
vii. 32. For when you pipe, I am ready to dance ;
and when you mourn, a cloud comes over my
brow, and a tear stands a tiptoe in my eye. I
observe your letters usually begin and end in the
allegro strain, and you put the more serious part
in the middle : as this seems the fittest place for
it, I will try to imitate you, though it will he
REV. JOHN NEWTON. 105
something, if either my beginning or my close
should entitle me to your smile, excej)t you smile
at the presumption of your humble imitator, and
recollect the fable of the frog, who tried to imitate
the ox.
Do not wonder that I prize your letters. Be-
sides the merit which friendship puts on them, as
being yours, you always send me something I
should value from a stranger. Some thoughts in
your last I shall be the better for, if it be not my
own fault. How wonderful is that tincture, that
inexpressible something, which gives your senti-
ments when you speak of yourself so gloomy a
cast, while in all other respects it leaves your
faculties in full bloom and viwur ! How stransfe
that your judgment should be clouded in one
point only, and that a point so obvious and strik-
ingly clear to every body who knows you ! How
strange that a person who considers the earth, the
planets, and the sun itself as mere baubles, com-
pared with the friendship and favour of God, their
Maker, should think the God who inspired him
with such an idea, could ever forsake and cast off
the soul which he has taught to love him ! How
strange is it, I say, that you should hold tena-
ciously both parts of a contradiction ! Though
your comforts have been so long suspended, I
know not that I ever saw you for a single day
since your calamity came upon you, in which I
could not perceive as clear and satisfactory evi-
dence, that the grace of God w^as with you, as I
could in your brighter and happier times. In the
106 REV. JOHN NEWTON.
midst of all the little amusements, which you call
trifling, and which I would be very thankful you
can attend to, in your present circumstances, it
is as easy to see who has your heart, and which
way your desires tend, as to see your shadow when
you stand in the sun.
Accept our best love, and believe me to be.
Most affectionately yours,
J. Newton.
LETTER CCCXXXIX.
Rev. John Newton to Miss W . Intended for her
birth-day.
My dear Miss, ]March23, 1773.
In your last you intimated some expectation of
receiving a letter from me on or about your
birth-day : — " So she shall," thought I, " if we
live so long;" and accordingly I made a memo-
randum in my head, to write to Miss W the
twenty-third of March, that she may have it on
the twenty-fourth, which is her birth-day. Just
now I sat down to comply with this order ; but
how did I stare when, taking up your letter, I
found your birth-day was not the twenty-fourth but
the fourth. So all my punctuality is thrown away,
and all the pretty things I might have tried to say
upon the subject of a birth-day are almost three
REV. JOHN NEWTON. 107
weeks out of season. Well, I must make the
best of it, and congratulate you, not that you
are exactly so many years old, (I know not how
many,) but so many years and twenty days.
If I thought you did not seek, and in a measure
know, the Lord's salvation, I should not congratu-
late you at all. I have often been struck with the
absurdity of worldly people making their birth-
day a season of joy, unless in the year when they
come to age, and are released from the restraints
of parents, tutors, and guardians, and at liberty
to act just as self dictates. In other respects,
should they rejoice every year on a certain day,
that they have a year less to live where their hearts
and their treasures are fixed, and are a year nearer
to their eternity, which they cannot bear to think
of? Ah, how many are jovial on their birth-
day who will at length see cause to wish they
had never been born ! But you have reason to
bless God for your birth, since he has been pleased
to make you partaker of a new and heavenly birth,
and to admit you into the number of his children.
He sent you into the world at such a time, and
under such circumstances, as that, in his appointed
hour, you might hear and receive the gospel of
his grace.
Were it possible you could be informed of the
history of all who were born into the world, the
same year or the same day with yourself, I mean
especially of your own sex, it would give you an
affecting view of the mercies by which the Lord
has distinguished you from thousands. Many of
108 REV. JOHN NEWTON.
them are already in eternity, and perhaps the
greater part of these taken away before they knew
why they came into the world. Could you visit
those of them who are still living, you would find
some crippled, deformed, blind, or deaf; some de-
fective in their faculties, some languishing un-
der incurable diseases, some struggling under po-
verty, destitute of friends or food ; some, having
been accustomed to evil examples from their in-
fancy, and not being favoured with the means of
instruction, are, though young in years, already
grown old in sin. Perhaps you would hardly find
one in the whole number so remarkably favoured
in all respects as yourself. When you had finish-
ed your survey, would not your heart adopt and
feel the sentiment in the hymn —
Are these thy favours, day by day,
To me above the rest ?
Then let me love thee more than they,
And try to serve thee best.
But the chief mercy of all is, that the Lord hath
drawn you to seek his face, and to place your hap-
piness in his favour ; without this, the possession
of all that the earth can aflford would be of little
worth. May he encourage and animate you to
press forward to the prize of your high calling.
May his good Spirit teach, warn, and comfort
you, and keep you ever mindful that there is no
safety but in a continual dependence upon him.
Satan is a wathful enemy ; he studies our situa-
tion and disposition, that he may spread snares
REV. JOHN NEWTON. 109
for US to the greatest advantage, and is not only
to be dreaded when he fights directly against our
faith and peace as a roaring lion, but is often as
near and as dangerous when we are ready to think
him at a distance. He sometimes lays his schemes
with little noise, and prevails before he is per-
ceived. But they that humbly look unto the Lord
to keep them, shall be preserved. I hope you will
be constant in all the means of grace, especially in
secret prayer, and a close attention to the word of
God ; if these are neglected, or a formal spirit in-
dulged in them, public ordinances may be fre-
quented, and yet the soul grow lean and dry, and
get little benefit from them. But if we are aware
of our weakness and danger, and look continually
to the Lord to hold us up that we may be safe,
he will keep our feet out of the net. There are
too many professors who live below their privi-
leges; they have every thing of religion but its
power and its comforts. But it is your happiness
to be acquainted with a favoured few, who ap-
prove themselves in good earnest, and follow the
Lord with their whole heart, like Caleb of old. I
trust the Lord will give you to be like-minded ;
to walk as a stranger and pilgrim, and to have
your heart and conversation in heaven, where Jesus
is; then you may well rejoice in every returning
birth-day, and say. Now is full salvation nearer
than when I first believed.
Believe me to be your affectionate friend.
110 REV. RICHARD CECIL.
LETTER CCCXL.
Rev. Richard Cecil to his Wife, on the necessity of
having fixed hours for devotion.
My dearest Love,
Though you have two letters of mine unanswered ;
and though I have nothing to say, yet I will take a
few moments, which ought to be embraced for re-
collection, to write to you. So that you will do
well to recollect, that this letter comes neither from
a sense of duty, nor a matter of business, but from
a pure desire of pleasing you : and you will recol-
lect, that I would rather preach two sermons, than
write one letter.
And now, what shall I say ? I think what
I began with is the best subject — recollection.
" Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled
about many things; but one thing is needful;''
and that one, needful as it is, will be forgotten, if
we do not set aside a portion of our time for the
purpose. I feel that all I know and all I teach,
will do nothing for my own soul, if I spend my
time, as most people do, in business or company —
even the best company. My soul starves to death
in the best company ; and God is often lost in
prayers and ordinances. " Enter into thy cham-
ber," said he, "and shut thy door about thee!"
Some words in Scripture are very emphatical.
Shut thy door means much : it means, shutout, not
only nonsense, but business — not only company
REV. RICHARD CECIL. Ill
abroad, but the company at home. It means — let
thy poor soul have a little rest and refreshment ;
and God have opportunity to speak to thee in a
small still voice, or he will speak in thunder.
You and I, my love, ought to understand this,
who have heard the loud voice so often, in so many
ways. I am persuaded the Lord would have
spoken more softly if we would have shut the door :
nor do I believe the children would have fallen
into the fire, nor out of the window, in the mean
time. Let us, I say, think of this : for who can
tell what the next loud call may say ? It has
called for our children already, and it may next
call for us.
But I will not press this subject, for I recollect
your spirits are weak. However, go into thy cham-
ber, and shut the door; and pray for me, that
after I have preached so often to this people, I may
not be left to undo in private, what I am labouring
to do in public.
Be sure, while I ask you never to forget me in
your prayers, that jou are never forgotten in mine,
such as they are ; (and which I often fear are more
calculated to affront God than please him;) but
pray I must, and I knoiv that I do not pray in vain
nor can you, ....
112 REV. THOMAS SCOTT.
LETTER CCXLI.
Rev. T. Scott to a Friend, who had sought his advice on
the topics referred to in the commencement of the letter.
Dec 10, 1795.
I know not what further directions to give you re-
specting the manner of inquiring after truth, and
seeking to have it more deeply impressed on the
heart ; and, as it were, wrought into the judgment
and affections, than are already in print. I find it
exceedingly difficult to keep my attention fixed, or
to get my heart suitably aflfected, in reading and
meditating upon truths which have become obvious
and familiar by daily study ; but there are times
when I find, that while I try to muse on the sub-
ject, a fire, as it were, kindles, and contemplation
terminates in adoring gratitude and admiring love.
In general, I think, I have found it advantageous
sometimes to read the Scriptures with such exact-
ness, as to weigh every expression, and its con-
nexions, as if I werQ about to preach on every
verse ; and then to apply the result to my own
case, character, experience, and conduct, as if it
had been directly addressed to me — not as a new
promise or revelation, but as a message containing
warning, caution, reproof, exhortation, encourage-
ment, or direction, according to my previous 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
REV. THOMAS SCOTT. 113
then to turn the whole application on myself as far
as suited to my case ; as if another, who fully knew
me, had been addressing me. At other times I
have read a passage more generally, and then se-
lected two or three of the most important observa-
tions 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 variety of sentiment, experience, conduct, or
prominent characters, with which we become gra-
dually more and more acquainted. Thus, I have
endeavoured to read the Scriptures, and to use
them as a touch-stone to distinguish the 'precious
from the vile, both at home and abroad. At other
times, having perhaps heard or read the opinions 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 judgment on which side truth lay. In doing
this, I have always 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 de-
ference for men, without being previously con-
vinced that I had been mistaken ; and, on the other
hand, 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 touch-
stone, and to give it a fair trial, if not tried before ;
VOL. III. I
I 14 MISS HANNAH MORE.
but not to receive it without 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 principally failed. But, a spirit
of continual prayer mixed with reading, has been
my principal help in all these things ; without
which either self- wisdom or indolent dependence
on human teaching will surely prevail.
LETTER CCCXLII.
Miss H. More to a Friend. How to live ^'^in the world,"
and not be " of the world."
My dear Sir, Cowslip Green, 1795.
I will answer your question, " whether I think it is
or is not your duty to indulge the gaiety of your
temper among strangers ?" with the plainest sin-
cerity and truth, according to my judgment. I
have no doubt that it is a part of Christianity to
convert every natural talent to a religious use, and,
therefore, I declare I think you are serving God, by
making yourself agreeable, upon your own views
and principles (for the motive is the act) to worldly
but well-disposed people, who would never be at-
tracted to religion by grave and severe divines, even
if such ever fell in their way. Those who can
adorn the doctrine of God their Saviour by cheer-
ful manners, defeat the end of the Giver by assum-
MISS HANNAH MORE. 115
ing a contrary character. It is an honest bait by
which they will at last be attracted to like you for
some better part of you. I do not mean that their
liking you much signifies, except in so far as,
through your medium, they be brought to relish
religion. How many have been induced to read
Cowper's * Task,' by ' John Gilpin,' — ' Pascal's
Thoughts' by his ' Provincial Letters,' — and Dod-
dridge's Works by his Letters. By the by, Dod-
dridge is a case in point — I have heard Sir James
Stonehouse say, he never knew a man of so gay a
temper as Doddridge. One great use that may
follow your carrying this cheerfulness into worldly
company is this — if they have sense and reflection,
they will discern what sacrifices you must make,
and what conquests religion enables you to achieve
over yourself, when they find that gaiety does not
seduce you from the rigour of your principles, and
the severity of your morality. They will find out
that you are not driven to religion because you
have no taste for that wit and elegance which they
rate so highly ; and that your nonconformity to the
world does not spring from your having no taste
for its enjoyments, but because you know that
the friendship of the world is enmity with God.
Dead and buried as they are in luxury and indul-
gence, it is only by such casual discoveries as these
that they can ever get the smallest glimpse of the
meaning of " plucking out right eyes, and cutting
off right hands.'' To such people, religion must
be made as it were tangible, palatable, visible;
I 2
116 MISS HANNAH MORE.
else they are apt to think it but an idle specula-
tion.
On the other hand, I have told Lady S that
there is this danger attending the society of religi-
ous people who are gay and pleasant — that it is
apt to indispose worldly minds towards other reli-
gious persons, who may be equally good, though
they have a severer cast of temper ; and I have de-
sired her not to suspect the next religious man she
meets of being either a drone or a hypocrite, be-
cause he may be either constitutionally grave, or
may think it right to assume an exterior of greater
strictness.
Since writing the above, T have just got a letter
from my old friend Lady S on other business.
You are named in it. I have a great mind to send
you that part, as it will show you that your conduct
made no wrong impression. Little as she says,
however, I am half afraid of sending it, as I am in
disgrace with your sage friend H from a pa-
rallel conduct, when I thought, as now, I was doing
a mighty wise thing. If I am wrong, tell me so,
for I am wrong upon system. I have not myself
any vain curiosity to know what people at large
think of me ; but if there is any one over whom
their good opinion may give me useful influence, I
think it of importance. I intend this letter to con-
vince you of my sincere friendship, if not of my
wisdom. Of all compliments, I abhor religious
compliments ; and in writing to you on this sub-
ject, I have tried to speak as if it were of another
REV. ROBERT HALL. 117
pereon, and not of yourself. And now in return
what shall I do ? These people com-e to me : that
I cannot help — but I do not go to them. My
neighbour the Duchess of is not well, and
wants me ; but I can do her no good. Here I do
but little, but a little is something. I think I have
done with the aristocracy. I am no longer a
debtor to the Greeks, but I am so to my poor bar-
barians.
God bless you, my dear Sir, prays,
Your obliged and affectionate,
Hannah More.
LETTER CCCXLHI.
Rev. Robert Hall to a Friend in deep perplexity, as to
his religious state.
Dear Sir, Leicester, April 20, 1809.
I am much concerned to learn the unhappy state
of your mind respecting religion. You may de-
pend upon no one seeing the letter but myself;
and I wish it were in my power to say any thing
that might be of use. Of this I have very little
hope ; for the adage might in too great a degree be
applied unto me — "Physician, heal thyself," as I
labour under much darkness and despondency re-
specting my religious prospects, through the pre-
valence of indwelling corruptions. What then,
my dear Sir, can I say to you, or any other ? I
would recommend to you, above all things, to have
118 REV. ROBERT HALL.
recourse to prayer — ^to fervent, importunate, per-
severing prayer. Take no denial : if you cannot
pray long, pray often. Take the iitmost pains in
preparing your heart, and in the exercises of the
closet ; for, surely, an assurance of the forgiveness
of sin, the light of God's Spirit, and the animating
hope of glory, are worth all the labour and in-
finitely more than all, we are capable of using to
attain them. They are heaven upon earth. From
what I know by experience, though it is not with
me now as in months past, the enjoyment of God
throws every other enjoyment, that can be realized
or conceived, at an infinite distance. Fix it in
your mind, my dear friend, as a most certain truth,
that there is nothing deserves to be pursued for a
moment, but in subordination to God and for God ;
and then act accordingly, and you will probably
soon find a strange change for the better. Ex-
posed, as you necessarily are, to the society of many
who have either no religion, or feel but little of its
vital power, you are in peculiar danger of forming
slight ideas of its importance ; of being taught to
look upon it as a secondary thing, an occasional
law, whose authority is to be interposed like the
law of the land, to regulate other things; instead
6f looking upon it as a vital, prevailing principle of
the heart and life. Many, it is to be feared, never
attain the blessings of religion, because they never
form that estimate of its dignity which is consonant
w'ith the oracles of God. Did it not seem like pre-
sumption, I should earnestly recommend the daily
perusal, besides the Scriptures, (which I take it for
REV. ROBERT HALL. 119
granted you cannot omit,) of some practical and ex-
perimental divinity. We have great store of it :
Doddridge's " Rise and Progress," his and Watts's
"Sermons ;" and, above all, if I may speak from my
own experience, the wonderful Howe — particularly
his " Blessedness of the Righteous," his *' Living
Temple," (the latter part,) his treatise on "De-
lighting in God." Perhaps you will say you have
not time for this ; but here the question recurs
again — what is of the most importance for a crea-
ture that is to live for ever ; — to be rich in this
world, or to be rich towards God ? I hope you
will pardon the liberty I have taken, from a regard
to the motive; which, you will dome the justice to
believe, is pure and disinterested.
I remain, my dear Sir,
Yours affectionately,
Robert Hall.
LETTER CCCXLIV.
Rev. Robert Hall to a Friend, under similar circum-
stances.
My DEAB. Sib, Leicester, July 17, 1309.
I duly received yours. Be assured I sympathize
with you in your spiritual trials, having had a large
share of them myself. I wish I could adopt the
language of Dido to the Trojans throughout —
Haud ignora mali miseris siiccurrere disco. The
haud ignora mali is fully applicable to myself; but
120 REV. ROBERT HALL.
I am afraid I have not yet learnt the art of suggest-
ing what may be useful to others in similar circum-
stances. I want " the tongue of the learned, that I
may be able to speak a word in season to him that
is weary." I congratulate you on retaining your
religious sensibility. The most dangerous spiritual
symptom is apathy, or a stupid indifference to our
real situation. While we have feeling enough to
complain, we give unequivocal indications of life,
however disordered its functions, or languid its ac-
tions may be. What advice, my dear Sir, can
I possibly give you, but what your own good sense
will suggest — that oi giving all diligence, and follow-
ing on P " Then," says the prophet, " shall ye
know, if you follow on to know the Lord." Set
a firm resolution against the idulgence of sin in
any form. I know you too well to suspect external
irregularities; but we are both fully convinced,
" the commandment is exceeding broad ;" and
that, if we would walk in the light of God's blessed
countenance, we must keep the heart with all dili-
gence, or as the expression signifies, " above all
keeping." You will doubtless find your account in
the serious, punctual, undeviating attention to pri-
vate prayer, and reading of the Scriptures.
I feel a pleasing confidence that you are too
much impressed with the importance of religion,
to suffer these exercises to be superseded by any
worldly enjoyments, or to be attended to in a slight,
perfunctory manner, resting in the opus operatumy
instead of improving them as means of nearness to
God, and growth in grace. Would it not be advis-
MRS. NEWELL. 121
able for you lo give yourself up publicly to the
Lord ? Might not your solemn engagement to be
his, in the ties of a Christian profession, have a
happy influence on the train of your sentiments
and conduct ; not to say, that if you truly love the
Lord Jesus Christ, you must necessarily feel a de-
sire to keep his commandments. I am glad to hear
you are happy with Mrs. •. Please to remem-
ber me affectionately to Mrs. , to *s family
in all its branches, to Mrs , and all inquiring
friends.
I am, dear Sir,
With great respect, yours, &c.
Robert Hall.
LETTER CCCXLV.
Mrs. Newell to a Friend, upon the death of a sister.
Haverhill, Sept. 1811.
Forgive, my dear M , the liberty I take in ad-
dressing you in this manner. From my first ac-
quaintance with you, I have felt deeply interested
for your happiness. Nothing but an affectionate re-
gard for you, would induce me to write to you on
a subject which the world will undoubtedly ridi-
cule, but which engages the attention and consti-
tutes the felicity of the holy inhabitants of heaven.
This subject is the religion of the gospel — a sub-
ject which is infinitely interesting to us both. You
have of late witnessed a scene, trying indeed, and
122 MRS. NEWELL.
solemn as eternity. You have watched the sick-
bed, you have heard the expiring groans of your
beloved sister. You fondly hope that she was in-
terested in the covenant of redemption, and is now
perfectly happy in the enjoyment of her God in
heaven. When standing by the dying bed of this
dear sister, say, my friend, did you not ardently
wish for piety similar to hers ; for that faith which
could triumph over the horrors of a dying hour ?
Was the hope then cherished that you should meet
her in yonder world, when the trials of this short
life are over? And did this hope support your
sinking spirits in the trying hour of separation ?
She is gone for ever; but we are still prisoners of
hope. Could we now draw back the covering of
the tomb, and listen to her language, how earnestly
would she beseech us to become reconciled to God,
and devote our lives wholly to his service. My
dear M , these are not idle dreams. If we reflect
for a moment, we feel conscious that there is an
immortal princij^le within, which will exist when
time and nature die. This principle is corrupted
by sin, and without the sanctifying grace of God,
we should be unhappy, even though admitted to
heaven. Do but examine the feelings of your heart
one hour, and you cannot for a moment doubt
the truth of this assertion. How important then
that we should have this work of grace begun in
our hearts, before it is too late. "Now is the ac-
cepted time, now is the day of salvation." To-
morrow our probation may be closed, and we may
be irrecoverably lost. M , my heart is full. What
MRS. NEWELL. 123
inducements can I offer you to receive Jesus into
your heart, and willingly sacrifice your all for
him ? Oh ! think of the worth of the soul, the
price paid to redeem it, the love of Immanuel,
your obligations to live to him, the joys pre23ared
for the righteous; — and, oh, think of the torments
in reserve for the finally impenitent, and be in-
duced to flee from the wrath to come. If nothing
in providence prevents, before the return of another
autumn, Harriet will be a stranger in a strange
land. I go, my friend, where heathens dwell, far
from the companions of my playful years, far from
the dear land of my nativity. My contemplated
residence will be, not among the refined and culti-
vated, but among females degraded and uncivilized,
who have never heard of the religion of Jesus. How
would it gladden my sad heart, in the trying hour
of my departure, could I but leave a dear circle of
females of my own age, engaged for God, and emi-
nent for their usefulness in Haverhill. Well, I
hope to find a circle of Hindoo sisters in India, in^
terested in that religion which many of my com-
panions reject, though blest with innumerable pri-
vileges. But my friend M will not treat with
indifference this religion. O no ! I will cherish the
fond hope, that she will renounce the world, be-
come a follower of Immanuel, and be unwearied
in her exertions to spread the triumphs of the cross
through the world. I mustleaveyou,my dear M ,
with God. May you become a living witness for
him ! When our journey through this barren wil-
derness is ended, may we meet in heaven !
Harriet.
124 HENRY KIRKE WHITE.
LETTER CCCXLVI.
Henry Kirke White to Mr. K. Swaxn.
My dear Kirke, Wiuteringham, April 6, 1805.
Your complaint of the lukewarmness of your aifec-
tions towards spiritual things, is a very common
one with Christians. We all feel it; and if it be
attended with an earnest desire to acquit ourselves
in this respect, and to recover our wonted fervour,
it is a complaint indicative of our faithfulness. In
cases of Christian experience, I submit my own
opinion to any body's, and have too serious a dis-
trust of it myself, to offer it as a rule or maxim of
unquestionable authority ; but I have found, and
think, that the best remedy against lukewarmness,
is an obstinate persisting in prayer, until our af-
fections be moved ; and a regular habit of going to
religious duties with a prepared and meek heart,
thinking more of obtaining communion with God,
than of spending so many minutes in seeking it.
Thus, when we pray, we must not kneel down with
the idea that we are to spend so many minutes in
supplication, and after the usual time has elapsed,
go about our regular business ; we must remind
ourselves that we have an object in prayer, and that
until that object be attained, that is, until we are
satisfied that our Father hears us, we are not to con-
ceive that our duty is performed, although we may
be in the posture of prayer for an hour.
LAURENCE SAUNDERS. IQ5
SECTION III.
ADMONITORY LETTERS, TO THE APOSTATE, BACKSLIDING,
AND UNBELIEVIJ^G.
LETTER CCCXLVII.
Laurence Saunders, the martyr, to an Apostate ftom
the truth.
September 20, 1554.
In my own name and in the name of many others,
your old familiars and acquaintance, I do write
unto you in heaviness of heart, for that we have
heard of your fall. Oh, how much better had it
been for you never to have set your hand to the
plough, than negligently to look back ; yea, and
foolishly to follow the plough thattilleth not God's
field, but turneth up the roots of that seed, which
in times past you have sown. Alas! how foolish a
builder were you, that wrould enterprise to build
upon the rock Christ, seeing in yourself not only
the lack of those things which are required to
the finishing of that work, but also the lack of a
will to have them; as appears by that you go
about to overthrow that little which you seem-
ed to have mightily builded upon 'that rock.
How foolish a virgin have you declared your-
self to be, which have gone forth to meet the
126 LAURENCE SAUNDERS.
bridegroom, and tarried so long for his coming,
not having" oil in store, but are now driven,
when you hear the voice of the forerunner, to seek
at them that sell I You banquelted with the chil-
dren of the bridegroom, so long as he was with ns;
but now he is gone, you leave us alone to fast !
You were contented to be fed at Christ's hand with
the five thousand ; but when he willeth you not to
seek the meat that perisheth, you depart! The
children of Israel were much to be blamed, for
that they desired to be in Egypt again, and yet
was there lack and labour then more in the desert
than yours now in London.
Alas ! wretched man, what hath caused thee
thus to cast away thyself, once knowing the truth,
and to take in hand to be a minister in antichrist's
church ? Art thou so soon weary of the heavenly
manna; and so ready to return to thy old vomit
again ? We thought thou hadst been so clean es-
caped through the word of grace, that thou hadst
been a worthy man ; to be a comfort to them that
stand, a succour to the weak, and a help to them
that fall, and art thou now rolled in thy filthy pud-
dle again, and art become a helper to put others
into the same ? Oh ! more than damnable doings,
the forgiveness whereof far passes the hope of man!
And were it not that things impossible to man are
possible with God, we should utterly despair of thy
return.
But, knowing that with God there is no impossi-
bility, we will not only advertise thee to remember
from whence thou ait fallen, that thou mayst seek
LAURENCE SAUNDERS. 127
to rise again ; but we will also pray that he, to
whom thy return is possible, will vouchsafe of his
infinite mercies to work it in thee. Thou hast, with
Judas, sold thy most loving and gentle Master; re-
pent thee with Peter, and no doubt thou shalt find
mercy.
To fall, is a thing amiexed to the corrupt nature
of man ; but to lie still in thy filthy puddle of per-
dition, is to despise God, the author and first
maker of nature. To fall into the darkness of er-
ror, is a point of man's ignorance; but to walk on
still in darkness, is to love darkness more than
light. To wink at the brightness of the sun, is a
weakness of the eyes ; but to fly the light is to be
of the night. To leave the rough way that leadeth
unto life, and to walk in the pleasant way that
leadeth unto perdition, is to love this life ; but not
to leave that way when we are warned, is to despise
the life to come. Briefly, to leave the good things
undone, that God commands, and to do that evil
which he forbids, is to deserve everlasting damna-
tion at his hand, who rewards every man according
to his work; but not to repent of that evil when
God calls by his means, is to kindle the wrath of
God against the impenitent and obstinate sinner.
Lest you, therefore, should be found a despiser
of God, the author of nature; a lover of darkness
more than light; not of the day, but altogether of
the night ; a lover of this life, and a hater of the
life to come ; and finally such a one as would kin-
dle the wrath of God against you, repent, and
come again to Christ. Remember what joy there
J28 LAURENCE SAUNDERS.
is in heaven among the angels at the conversion of
a sinner. Forget not thy merciful spouse, who
would not cast off the adulterous Israel, and mar-
ried her to himself.
Be mindful of that loving Lord, who hath said,
I will not the death of a sinner, but rather that he
convert and live ; and in what day soever the sin-
ner doth repent him of his sin from the bottom of
his heart, I will remember his iniquity no more. (')
What should separate us from the love of this
Lord ? What should make us to fly from this our
Captain ? Should the weariness of an arm ? Should
the lack of such things as fancy would have ? Bet-
ter it were for us to enter into life with weary arms
and thin cheeks, than with lovely countenances
and lusty limbs to be cast into hell. Make not pro-
vision for the flesh with the loss of your soul. Be-
lieve him who hath promised all things necessary
to them that seek the kingdom of God and the
righteousness thereof. He hath not at any time
deceived you, why then should you seek such
shameful shifts to make provision for the flesh ?
Have not you yourself had experience of the
care that he takes for them that put their trust in
him ? And now why are you fallen from him for
the belly's sake ?
This I have written to call you back again, if
you be not clean gone out of the way ; but if you
be so given over to error, that you think light to be
darkness, and darkness to be light ; good to be evil,
(') Ezekiel, xviii.
LADY JANE GREY. 129
and evil to be good ; Christ to be Belial, and Be-
lial to be Christ ; the temple of God to be the sy-
nagogue of Satan, and the synagogue of Satan to
be the temple of God ; then I have nothing to say
unto you, but the Lord confound you and all such.
But with God's grace we trust to hear better of
you.(')
LETTER CCCXLVIII.
Ladx" Jane Grey to Master Harding, who had recently
recanted to Popery, and afterwards became the opponent of
Jewel.
So oft as I call to mind the dreadful and fearful
saying of God, " That he which layeth hold upon
the plough and looketh back, is not meet for the
kingdom of heaven ;" and on the other side, the
comfortable words of our Saviour Christ to all
those that, forsaking themselves, do follow him, I
cannot but marvel at thee, and lament thy case,
who seemedst sometime to be the lively member of
Christ, but now the deformed imp of the devil;
sometime the beautiful temple of God, but now
the stinking and filthy kennel of Satan ; sometime
the unspotted spouse of Christ, but now the un-
shamed-faced paramour of antichrist; sometime
(i) " This letter is thought of some, albeit not certainly
known, to be written by M. Sanndets/'—Covcrdale.
VOL. TH. K
J 30 LADY JANE GREY.
my faithful brother, but now a stranger and apos-
tate ; sometime a stout Christian soldier, but now a
cowardly runaway.
Oh wretched and unhappy man! what art thou
but dust and ashes ? And wilt thou resist thy
INIaker that fashioned thee and framed ihee ? Wilt
thou now forsake him that called thee from the
custom-gathering among the Romish antichristians,
to be an ambassador and messenger of his eternal
word ? He that first framed thee, and since thy
first creation and birth preserved thee, nourished
and kept thee, yea, and inspired thee with the
spirit of knowledge, I cannot say of grace, shall he
not now possess thee ? Darest thou deliver up
thyself to another, being not thine own, but his ?
How canst thou, having knowledge, or how durst
thou neglect the law of the Lord, and follow the
vain traditions of men ? and whereas thou hast
been a public professor of his name, become now
a defacer of his glory ?
Wilt thou refuse the true God, and worship the
invention of man, the golden calf, the harlot of
Babylon, the Romish religion, that abominable idol,
the most wicked mass ? Wilt thou torment again,
rend and tear the most precious body of our Sa-
viour Christ with thy bodily and fleshly teeth ?
Wilt thou take upon thee to offer up any sacrifice
unto God for our sins, considering, that " Christ
offered up himself," as Paul saith, " upon the cross,
a lively sacrifice once for all ?" Can neither the
punishment of the Israelites, which for their idol-
LADY JANE GREY. 131
atry they so ofl received, nor the terrible threaten-
ings of the prophets, nor the curses of God's own
mouth, make thee fear to honour any other God
than him ? Dost thou so regard him that spared
not his dear and only Son for thee, so diminishing,
yea, utterly extinguishing his glory, that thou wilt
attribute the praise and honour due unto him to
the idols, which have mouths and speak not, eyes
and see not, ears and hear not, which shall perish
with them that made them ?
But thou wilt say, thou doest it for a good intent I
— O sink of sin ! O child of perdition ! Dost thou
dream therein of a good intent where thy conscience
beareth thee witness of God's threatened wrath
against thee ? How did Saul, who disobeyed the
word of the Lord for a good intent, but was thrown
from his worldly and temporal kingdom ? Shalt
thou then, that dost deface God's honour and rob
him of his right, inherit the eternal and heavenly
kingdom ?
Wilt thou, for a good intent, dishonour God, of-
fend thy brother, and endanger thy soul, wherefore
Christ hath shed his most precious blood ? Wilt
thou, for a good intent, pluck Christ out of heaven,
and make his death void, and deface the triumph
of his cross, by offering him up daily ? Wilt
thou, either for fear of death, or hope of life, deny
and refuse thy God, who enriched thy poverty,
healed thy infirmity, and yielded to thee his vic-
tory, if thou couldst have kept it ? Dost thou not
consider that the thread of thy life hangeth upon
k2
132 LADY JANE GREY.
him that made thee, who can, as his will is, either
twine it harder to last the longer, or untwine it
again to break it the sooner ?
But thou wilt say, I will not break unity. What
not the unity of Satan and his members ! not the
unity of darkness, the agreement of antichrist and
his adherents 1 Nay, thou deceivest thyself with
the fond imagination of such a unity as is among
the enemies of Christ. Were not the false pro-
phets in unity ? Were not Joseph's brethren and
Jacob's sons in unity ? Were not the heathen, as
the Amalekites, the Perizzites, and Jebusites in
unity ? Were not the Scribes and Pharisees in
unity ? Doth not king David testify, *' They have
taken counsel in unity against the Lord ?" Yea,
thieves, murderers, conspirators have their unity.
But what unity ? Tully saith of amity, " There is
no friendship excepting among good men." But
mark, my friend, yea, friend, if thou be not God's
enemy, there is no unity but where Christ knitteth
the knot among such as be his. Yea, be well as-
sured, that where his truth is resident, there is veri-
fied what he himself saith, " I am not come to send
peace on the earth, but a sword ; to set one against
another, the son against the father, and the daugh-
ter against the mother-in-law." Deceive not thy-
self, therefore, with the glittering and glorious
name of unity, for antichrist hath his unity, not
yet in deed, but in name.
The agreement^of ill men is not unity, but con-
spiracy. Thou hast heard some threatenings.
LADY JANE GREY. 133
some curses, and some admonitions out of the
Scriptures, to those that love themselves above
Christ. Thou hast heard also the sharp and biting
words to those that deny him for love of life. Saith
he not, " He that denieth me before men, I will
deny him before my Father in heaven ?" (') And
to the same effect with Paul, "It is impossible
that they which were once lightened, and have
tasted of the heavenly gift, and were partakers of
the Holy Ghost, and have tasted of the good word
of God, if they fall and slide away, crucifying to
themselves the Son of God afresh, and making of
him a mocking-stock, should be renewed again by
repentance." (^) And again saith he, " If we shall
willingly sin after we have received the knowledge
of his truth, there is no oblation left for sin, but
the terrible expectation of judgment and fire which
shall devour the adversaries." Thus St. Paul wrote,
and this thou readest, and dost not quake and
tremble ?
Well, if these terrible and thundering threaten-
ings cannot stir thee to cleave unto Christ, and for-
sake the world, yet let the sweet consolations and
promises of the Scriptures, let the example of
Christ and his apostles, holy martyrs, and con-
fessors, encourage thee to take fast hold by Christ.
Hearken what he saith," Blessed are ye when men
revile you, and persecute you for my sake ; rejoice
and be glad, for great is your reward in heaven;
for so persecuted they the prophets that were be-
fore you." (^) Hear what Isaiah the prophet saith,
(') Matt. X. (2) Heb. vi. (3) Alatt. v.
134 LADY JANE GREY.
" Fear not the curse of men, be not afraid of their
blasphemies, for worms and moths shall eat them
up like cloth and wool ; but my righteousness shall
endure for ever, and my saving health from gene-
ration to generation. What art thou then that
fearest a mortal man, the child of man, that fadeth
away like a flower, and forgettest the Lord that
made thee, that spread out the heavens, and laid
the foundation of the earth ? I am thy Lord thy
God, that make the sea to rage, and be still, whose
name is the Lord of Hosts. I shall put my vrord
in thy mouth, and defend thee with the turning of
my hand."(')
And our Saviour Christ saith to his disciples,
"^ They shall accuse you, and bring you before
princes and rulers for my name's sake, and some of
you they shall persecute and kill ; but fear you not,
nor care you what you shall say, for it is the spirit
of your Father that speaketh within you. Even
the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Lay
up treasure for yourselves, where no thief cometh
nor moth corrupteth. Fear not them that kill the
body, but are not able to kill the soul ; but fear
him that hath power to destroy both soul and body.
If ye were of the world, the world would love his
own ; but because ye are not of the world, but I
have chosen you out of the world, therefore the
world hateth you."
Return, return again into Christ's war, and, as
(>) Isaiah, 11.
LADY JANE GREY. 135
becomes a faithful warrior, put on that armour
which St. Paul teaches to be most necessary for a
Christian man. " And above all thingrs take to
you the shield of faith, and be ye provoked by
Christ*s own example to withstand the devil, to
forsake the world, and to become a true and faith-
ful member of his mystical body, who spared not
his own body for our sins."(')
Tlirow down yourself with the fear of his threat-
ened vengeance for this so great and heinous offence
ofapostacy, and comfort yourself on the other part
with the mercy, blood, and promise of him that is
ready to turn unto you whensoever you turn unto
him. Disdain not to come again with the lost son,
seeing you have so wandered with him. Be not
ashamed to turn again with him from the swill of
strangers to the delicates of your most benign and
loving Father, acknowledging that you have sinned
against heaven and earth ; against heaven, by stain-
ing the glorious name of God, and causing his
most sincere and pure word to be evil spoken of
through you ; against earth, by offending so many
of your weak brethren, to whom you have been a
stumbling-block through your sudden sliding.
Be not abashed to come home again with Mary,
and weep bitterly with Peter, not only with shed-
ding the tears of your bodily eyes, but also pouring
out the streams of your heart, to wash away out of
the sight of God the filth and mire of your offensive
fall. Be not abashed to say with the publican,
(') Ephesians, vi.
i:JG LADY JANE GREY.
" Lord, be merciful to me a sinner." Remember
the horrible story of Julian of old, and the lament-
able case of Spira of late, whose case, methinks,
should be yet so green in your remembrance, that
being a thing of our time you should fear the like
inconvenience seeing you are fallen into the like
offence. (')
Last of all, let the lively remembrance of the
last day be always before your eyes, remembering
the terror that such shall be in at that time, with
the runagates and fugitives from Christ, who setting
more by the world than by heaven, more by their
life than by him that gave them life, did shrink,
yea, did clean fall away from him that forsook
them not; and contrariwise, the inestimable joys
prepared for them, who, fearing no peril, nor dread-
ing death, have manfully fought and victoriously
triumphed over all power of darkness, over hell,
death, and damnation, through their most redoubted
Captain, Christ, who now stretches out his arms to
receive you, ready to fall upon your neck and kiss
you ; and last of all, to feast you with the dainties
and delicates of his own precious blood, which un-
doubtedly, if it might stand with his determinate
purpose, he would shed again, rather than that
you should be lost. To whom, with the Father
and the Holy Ghost, be all honour, praise, and
glory everlasting.
(I) Francis Spira was an Italian of rank, who having embraced
the doctrines of the Reformation, subsequently apostatized from
the faith, and shortly after died in the most bitter agonies of
despair.
JOHN HOOTER. 137
Be constant, be constant ; fear not for any pain,
Christ hath redeemed thee, and heaven is thy gain.
LETTER CCCXLTX.
John Hooper, Bishop of Gloucester, " to one that was fallen
from the known truth of the gospel to antichrist and his
damnable religion."
Grace, mercy, and peace of conscience, be multi-
plied in all penitent hearts.
Dear brother in Christ Jesus, it is not long since
I was informed what love and fervent zeal you
have heretofore borne to Gods true religion, ap-
pearing as well by your life and conversation, as
by absenting yourself from the idolaters' temple
and congregation of false worshippers. But now,
alas ! through the devilish persuasions and wicked
counsel of worldly men, you have declined from
your former profession, building again that which
before you destroyed, and so are become a tres-
passer, bearing a stranger's yoke with the unbe-
lievers. Of which ever since I was informed, I
have been marvellously moved with inward affec-
tions, much lamenting so great and sudden a change,
as to be turned from him that called you in the
grace of Christ, unto the dissimulation of wicked
hypocrites, which, as St. Paul saith, is nothing
else, but that there are some which trouble you, in-
tending to make you like as they are, even lovers
138 JOHN HOOPER.
of themselves, whose hearts are wedded to the pe-
rishing treasures of this world, wherein is their
whole joy and felicity, contrary to St. John, who
saith : " See that ye love not the world, neither
those things w hich are in the world." But they as
men without ears, and having hearts without un-
derstanding, neither weigh the terrible threatenings
of God against such offenders, and the most woful
punishment due for the same, nor yet consider the
loving admonition and calling of God, who both
teaches how to avoid his wrath, and also by what
means to attain salvation.
Wherefore, dear brother, I humbly beseech you,
even by the mercifulness of God, and as you tender
your own salvation, to give ear no longer to their
pestilent persuasions, but even now forthwith to
rei:)ent, and have no longer fellowship with the un-
fruitful works of darkness, neither fashion you
yourself again like unto the world. Delight not in
the friendship thereof, for all such are the enemies
of God. Grieve not any longer the Holy Spirit of
God, by whom ye are sealed unto the day of re-
demption. Acknowledge your offence, and from
whence you are fallen; prostrate yourself before
God ; asking mercy for Christ's sake. Mourn with
INIary Magdalen, lament with David, cry with Jo-
nah, weep with Peter, and make no tarrying to
turn to the Lord, whose pitiful eyes attend to wipe
away the tears from every troubled conscience.
Such is his entire love toward all those that turn
unto him, making them this sweet promise, con-
firmed by a mighty and vehement kind of speak-
JOHN HOOPER. 139
ing : " Tell them, as truly as I live," saitli he, " I
will not the death of a sinner, but much rather
that he turn from his evil ways and live. Turn
you, turn you from your ungodly ways, O ye of
the house of Israel ; O wherefore will ye die ?"
Behold, ye are here forgiven, your sin is blotted
out, and the most joyful countenance of God
turned again towards you.
What now remains? Verily this, that you from
henceforth keep circumspect watch, and become a
follower of Christ sustaining for his name's sake,
all such adversities as shall be measured unto you
by the sufferance of God our heavenly Father, who
so cares for us, that not one hair of our heads shall
perish without his will. Who also, considering
the tender and weak faith of his children, not able
as yet to stand against the force of antichrist's ty-
ranny, gives them this loving liberty ; " When ye
be persecuted in one city flee to another." O most
tender compassion of Christ ! how careful is he
over his people ; who would not now, rather than
offend so merciful a God, flee this wicked realm,
as your most Christian brother and many others
have done, or else with boldness of heart, and pa-
tience of spirit, bear manfully the cross even unto
death, as divers of our brethren have done before
us, as is declared at large in Paul's Epistle to the
Hebrews, which I pass over and come to our Sa-
viour Christ, whose example for our singular com-
fort St. Paul encourages us to follow, saying : " Let
us also, seeing that we are compassed with so great
a multitude of witnesses, lay away all that presses
140 REV. GEORGE WHITFIELD.
down, and the sin that hangs on, and let us run
with jDatience unto the battle that is set before us,
looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our
faith ; who, for the joy that was set before him,
abode the cross and despised the shame, and is set
down at the right hand of the throne of God.'' —
" From whence he shall come shortly," saith St.
John, " and his rewards with him, to give every
man according as his deed shall be. Blessed are
they that do his commandments, that their power
may be in the tree of life, and may enter in through
the gates unto the city, where they, saith Isaiah,
shall have their pleasure in the Lord, who will
carry them on high above the earth, and will feed
them with the heritage of Jacob their father, for
the Lord's own mouth hath so promised."
Thus I have been bold to write unto you for the
Christian love's sake that I bear to you, whose sal-
vation I wish as mine own, beseeching God that
your whole spirit, soul, and body may be kept
faultless unto the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.
Your brother in Christ,
John Hooper.
LETTER CCCL.
3ev. George Whitfield to arepentant Backslider, who
had written to unfold to him his state of mind.
Dear Sir, Edinburgh, July 26, 1742.
I just now received and read your letter. It much
affected me. It bespeaks the language of an uneasy
RKV. GEORGE WHITFIELD. 141
restless heart. In reading it, I thought of the great
Austin, who used, when he prayed against lust, se-
cretly to wish that his prayer might not be an-
swered, and yet he made a most eminent saint, and
shone in the church as a star of the first magnitude.
I likewise thought how our Saviour would receive
you, if here on earth ; even as he received and an-
swered the poor woman taken in adultery. — I am
sure he would say, " Neither do I condemn thee."
Another text offers itself, " I will heal their back-
slidings, and love them freely." God does not
say, I will heal thy backsliding for any certain term
of years, but I will heal thy backsiidings in ge-
neral. Dear sir, if you have been a backslider
these fifty years, nay, was it possible for you to
have been a backslider a thousand years, yet if with
hearty repentance and true faith you turn unto
him, he will abundantly pardon you. O, dear sir,
if any one had need to despair of mercy, I had ;
but Jesus has washed me in his blood, and I know
that my Redeemer liveth. Your temptations and
atheism, and hard thoughts of God, do not sur-
prise me. Dear sir, what else can be expected
from a heart desperately wicked, and deceitful
above all things ? Dear sir, let all this drive you
to the fountain which is open for sin and all un-
cleanness. I once, in your circumstances, thought
Christ was hard-hearted ; but now I find, nay have
long since found, that his heart is full of love.
Take courage, dear sir; draw near to the Lamb of
God that taketb away the sin of the world. Re-
turn, thou wandering prodigal, thy heavenly Father
142 REV. JOHN NEWTON.
is running to meet thee. — Come back, thou flut-
tering dove, Jesus is ready to take thee into the
ark. May God bless this to you ! If he does, I
will bless his name. I am a vile sinner, and have
need to lie low before him, whom I have pierced
by my transgression and unprofitableness, times
without number. In his blood and righteousness
I find perpetual refuge. ^lany in these parts are
flying to him. May you, sir, add to the happy
number. You are but a sinner, and Jesus died
for sinners. Come and welcome to Jesus Christ.
I expect to remain in Scotland a few months, and
hope to be your way, if the Lord direct. If your
way should be directed hither, I should be glad to
see you ; if not, you are welcome to write to me.
As my multiplicity of aflfairs will admit, you shall
be answered by, dear sir.
Your truly affectionate friend
and servant in Christ,
G. W.
LETTER CCCLI.
Rev. John Newton to an Infidel.
Dear Sih, 1758.
I suppose you will receive many congratulations
on your recovery from your late dangerous ill-
ness; most of them perhaps more sprightly and
better turned, but none, I persuade myself, more
sincere and affectionate than mine. I beg you
REV. JOHN NEWTON. 143
would prepare yourself by this good opinion of me,
before you read further ; and let the reality of my
regard excuse what you may dislike in my manner
of expressing it.
When a person is returned from a doubtful dis-
tant voyage, we are naturally led to inquire into the
incidents he has met with, and the discoveries he
has made. Indulge me in a curiosity of this kind,
especially as my affection gives me an interest and
concern in the event. You have been, my friend,
upon the brink, the very edge of an eternal state ;
but God has restored you back to the world again.
Did you meet with, or have you brought back,
nothing new ? Did nothing occur to stop or turn
your usual train of thought ? Were your appre-
hensions of invisible things exactly the same in the
height of your disorder, when you were cut off
from the world and all its engagements, as when you
were in perfect health, and in the highest enjoy-
ment of your own inclinations ? If you answer me,
" Yes, all things are just the same as formerly, the
difference between sickness and health only ex-
cepted ;" I am at a loss how to reply. I can only
sigh and wonder ; sigh, that it should be thus with
any, that it should be thus with you, whom I dearly
love ; and wonder, (since this unhappy case, strange
as it seems in one view, is yet so frequent,) why it
was not always thus with myself; for long and
often it was just so. Many a time, when sickness
had brought me, as we say, to death's door, I was as
easy and insensible as the sailor, who, in the height
of a storm, should presume to sleep upon the top of
144 REV. JOHN NEWTON.
the mast, quite regardless that the next tossing wave
might plunge him into the raging ocean, beyond
all possibility of relief. But at length a day came,
which, though the most terrible day I ever saw, I
can now look back upon with thankfulness and
pleasure : I say the time came, when in such a
helpless extremity, and under the expectation of
immediate death, it pleased God to command the
veil from my eyes, and I saw things in some mea-
sure as they really were. Imagine with yourself
a person trembling upon the point of a dreadful
precipice, a powerful and inexorable enemy eager
to push him down, and an assemblage of all that is
horrible waiting at the bottom for his fall ; even
this will give you but a faint representation of the
state of my mind at that time. Believe me, it was
not a whim or a dream, which changed my senti-
ments and conduct, but a powerful conviction/which
will not admit the least doubt ; an evidence which,
like that I have of my own existence, I cannot call
in question without contradicting all my senses.
And though my case was in some respects uncom-
mon, yet something like it is known by one and
another every day : and I have myself conversed
with many, who, after a course of years spent in
defending Deistical principles, or indulging libertine
practices, when they have thought themselves con-
firmed in their schemes by the cool assent of what
they then deemed impartial reason, have been, like
me, brought to glory in the cross of Christ, and to
live by that faith which they had before slighted and
opposed. By these instances I know that nothing is
REV. JOHN NEWTON. 145
too hard for the Almighty. The same power which
humbled me, can undoubtedly bring down the
most haughty infidel upon earth ; and as I likewise
know, that, to show his power, he is often pleased
to make use of weak instruments, I am encouraged,
notwithstanding the apparent difficulty of succeed-
ing, to warn those over whom friendship or affec-
tion gives me any influence, of the evil and the dan-
ger of a course of life formed upon the prevailing
maxims of the world. So far as I neglect this, I
am unfaithful in my professions both to God and
man.
I shall not at present trouble you in an argu-
mentative way. If, by dint of reasoning, I could
etfect some change in your notions, my arguments,
unless applied by a superior power, would still leave
your heart unchanged and untouched. A man may
give his assent to the gospel, and be able to defend
it against others, and yet not have his own spirit
truly influenced by it. This thought I shall leave
with you, that if your scheme be not true to a de-
monstration, it must necessarily be false ; for the
issue is too important to make a doubt on the dan-
gerous side tolerable. If the Christian could pos-
sibly be mistaken, he is still upon equal terms with
those who pronounce him to be so ; but if the Deist
be wrong, (that is, if we are in the right,) the conse-
quence to him must be unavoidable and intoler-
able. This, you will say, is a trite argument : I
own it ; but beaten as it is, it will never be worn
out or answered.
Permit me to remind you, that the points in de-
VOL. III. L
146 REV. JOHN NEWTON.
bate between us are already settled in themselves,
and that our talking' cannot alter or affect the na-
ture of things ; for they will be as they are, what-
ever apprehensions we may form of them : and re-
member likewise, that we must all, each one for
himself, experience on which side the truth lies.
I used a wrong word when I spoke of your recovery;
my dear friend, look upon it only as a reprieve;
for you carry the sentence of death about with you
still ; and unless you should be cut off (which God
of his mercy forbid I) by a sudden stroke, you will
as surely lie upon a death-bed, as you have been
now raised from a bed of sickness. And remem-
ber likewise, (how can I bear to write it !) that,
should you neglect my admonitions, they will not-
withstanding have an effect upon you, though not
such an effect as I could wish : they will render
you more inexcusable. I have delivered my own
soul by faithfully warning you : but if you will not
examine the matter with that seriousness it calls
for ; if you will not look up to God, the former of
your body, and the preserver of your spirit, for
direction and assistance how to please him ; if you
will have your reading and conversation only on
one side of the cjuestion; if you determine to let
afflictions and dangers, mercies and deliverances,
all pass without reflection and improvement; if
you will spend your life as though you thought
you were sent into the world only to eat, sleep, and
play, and, after a course of years, be extinguished
like the snuff of a candle; — why then, you must
abide the consequences. But assuredly, sooner or
REV. JOHN NEWTON. " 147
later God will meet you. My hearty daily prayer
is, that it may be in a way of mercy, and that you
may be added to the number of the trophies of his
invincible grace.
I am, &c.
LETTER CCCLII.
From the Same to the Same. On the same subject.
Dear Sir, 1760.
Though I truly love you, and have no reason to
doubt of the reality of your friendship to me ;
yet I cannot but apprehend that, notwithstanding
our mutual regard, and my frequent attempts to
be witty (if I could) for your diversion, there is
something in most of my letters (which I cannot,
dare not, wholly suppress) that disgusts and wearies
you, and makes you less inclined to keep up a fre-
quent intercourse than you would otherwise be.
Rather than lose you quite, I will in general spare
you as much as I can ; but at jaresent you must
bear with me, and allow me full scope. You have
given me a challenge, which I know not how to
pass over; and since you so far justify my preach-
ing, as to condescend to preach (in your way)
yourself, permit me for this time to preach again,
and to take some passages in your letter for my
text.
In the present debate I will accept your compli-
ment, and sui^pose myself to be, as you say, a man
L 2
148 REV. JOHN NEWTON.
of sense. You allow, then, tliat all the sense is
not on your side. This indeed you cannot deny;
for whatever becomes of me, it is needless to tell
you, that Hale, Boyle, and other great names I
could mention, were men of as great penetration
and judgment, had as good opportunities, and
took as much pains to be informed of the truth, as
any of the advocates for infidelity can pretend to.
And you cannot, with any modesty or consistence,
absolutely determine, that they had not as good
grounds for thinking themselves right, as you can
have. for concluding they were wrong.
But declining the advantage of human authority,
I am content the point shall rest between you and
me. And here I beg you to observe, that I have
one evident advantage over you in judging, name-
ly, that I have experienced the good and evil on
both sides, and you only on one. If you were to
send me an inventory of your pleasures, how
charmingly your time runs on, and how dexterous-
ly it is divided between the coffee-houses, play-
house, the card-table, and tavern, with intervals of
balls, concerts, &c. ; I could answer, that most of
these I have tried and tried again, and know the ut-
most they can yield, and have seen enough of the
rest, most heartily to despise them all. Setting re-
ligion entirely out of the question, I profess I had
rather be a worm to crawl upon the ground, than to
bear the name of man upon the poor terms of whil-
ing away my life in an insipid round of such insig-
nificant and unmanly trifles. I will return your own
expression, — I believe you to be a person of sense ;
REV. JOHN NEWTON. 149
but, alas ! how do you prostitute your talents and
capacity, how far do you act below yourself, if you
know no higher purpose of life than these childish
dissipations, together with the more serious business
of rising early and sitting up late, to amass money,
that you may be able to enlarge your expenses ? I
am sure while I lived in these things 1 found them
unsatisfying and empty to the last degree ; and the
only advantage they afforded (miserable are they
who are forced to deem it an advantage) was, that
they often relieved me from the trouble and bur-
den of thinking. If you have any other pleasures
than these, they are such as must be evil and in-
convenient, even upon your own plan ; and there-
fore my friendship will not allow me to bring them
into the account. I am willing to hope you do
not stoop still lower in pursuit of satisfaction. Thus
far we stand upon even ground. You know all that
a life of pleasure can give, and I know it likewise.
On the other hand, if T should attempt to ex-
plain to you the source and streams of my best
pleasures, such as a comfortable assurance of the
pardon of my sins, an habitual communion with
the God who made heaven and earth, a calm re-
liance on the Divine Providence, the cheering pro-
spect of a bettter life in a better world, with the
pleasing foretastes of heaven in my own soul;
should I, or could I, tell you the pleasure I often
find in reading the Scripture, in the exercise of
prayer, and in that sort of preaching and conver-
sation which you despise, 1 doubt not but you
w^ould think as meanly of my happiness as I do of
150 REV. JOHN NEWTON.
yours. But here lies the difference, my dear friend ;
you condemn that which you have never tried
You know no more of these things than a blind
man does of colours; and, notwithstanding all your
flourishes, I defy you to be at all times able to satisfy
yourself, that things may not possibly be as I have
represented them.
Besides, what do I lose, upon my plan, that
should make me so w orthy of your pity ? Have you
a quicker relish in the prudent use of temporal
comforts ? Do you think I do not eat my food
with as much pleasure as you can do, though per-
haps with less cost and variety ? Is your sleep
sounder than mine ? Have not I as much satisfaction
in social life ? It is true, to join much with the gay
fluttering tribe, who spend their days in laugh and
sing-song, is equally contrary to my duty and in-
clination. But I have friends and acquaintance as
well as you. Among the many who favour me
with their esteem and friendship, there are some
who are persons of sense, learning, wit, and (what
perhaps may weigh as much with you) of fortune
and distinction. And if you should say, " Ay, but
they are all enthusiasts like yourself," you would
say nothing to the purpose, since, upon your maxim,
that " happiness is according to opinion," it can-
not be an objection, but the contrary, to have my
acquaintance to my own taste. Thus much for
the brighter side of your situation ; — or let me add
one thing more. I know you have thoughts of
marriage : do you think, if you should enter into
this relation, your principles are calculated to make
REV. JOHN NEWTON. 151
you more happy in it than I am ? You are well
acquainted with our family-life. Do you propose
to know more of the peace and heart-felt joy of
domestic union, than I have known, and continue
to know to this hour ? I wish you may equal us ;
and if you do, we shall still be, as before, but upon
even ground. I need not turn Deist to enjoy the
best and the most that this life can afford.
But I need not tell you, that the present life is not
made up of pleasurable incidents only. Pain, sick-
ness, losses, disappointments, injuries, and affronts,
will more or less, at one time or other, be our lot.
And can you bear these trials better than I ? You
will not pretend to it. Let me appeal to yourself:
How often do you toss and disquiet yourself, like a
wild bull in a net, when things cross your expecta-
tions ? As your thoughts are more engrossed by
what you see, you must be more keenly sensible of
what you feel. You cannot view these trials as ap-
pointed by a wise and heavenly Father, in subser-
vience to your good ; you cannot taste the sweetness
of his promises, nor feel the secret supports of his
strength, in an hour of affliction : you cannot so
cast your burden and care upon him, as to find a
sensible relief to your spirit thereby, nor can you see
his hand engaged and employed in effecting your
deliverance. Of these things you know no more
than of the art of flying ; but I seriously assure you,
and I believe my testimony will go further with you
than my judgment, that they are realities, and that
I have found them to be so. When my worldly
concerns have been most thorny and discouraging.
152 REV. JOHN NEWTON.
I have once and again felt the most of that peace
which the world can neither give nor take away.
However, I may state the case still lower. You do
pretty well among your friends ; but how do you
like being alone ? Would you not give something
for that happy secret, which could enable you to
pass a rainy day pleasantly, without the assistance
of business, company, or amusement ? Would it
not mortify you greatly to travel for a week in an
unfrequented road, where you shall meet with no
lively incidents to recruit and raise your spirits ?
Alas ! what a poor scheme of pleasure is yours,
that will not support an interval of reflection !
What you have heard is true. I have a few friends
who meet at my house once a fortnight, and we
spend an hour or two in worshipping the God who
made us. And can this move your indignation, or
your compassion ? Does it show a much nobler spi-
rit, a more refined way of thinking, to live alto-
gether without God in the world ? If I kept a
card-assembly at those times, it would not displease
you. How can you, as a person of sense, avoid
being shocked at your own unhappy prejudice?
But I remember how it was once with myself, and
forbear to wonder. May He who has opened my
eyes, open yours. He only can do it. I do not
expect to convince you by any thing I can say as of
myself; but if he be pleased to make use of me as
his instrument, then you will be convinced. How
should I then rejoice ! I should rejoice to be useful
to any one ; but especially to you, whom I dearly
love May God show you your true self, and your
LORD BURLEIGH. 153
true state; then you will attentively listen to what
you now disdain to hear of — his goodness in pro-
viding redemption and pardon for the chief of sin-
ners, through Him who died upon the cross for
sins not his own. Keep this letter by you at my
request; and when you write, tell me that you re-
ceive it in good part, and that you still belive me
to be
Your sincere and affectionate friend,
J. Newton.
SECTION IV.
LETTERS OF ADVICE TO THE YOUNG, FROM PARENTS,
&C. &C.
LETTER CCCLIII.
Cecil, Lord Burleigh's advice to his son, Robert Cecil.
Son Robert,
The virtuous inclinations of thy matchless mother,
by whose tender and godly care thy infancy was
governed, together with thy education under so
zealous and excellent a tutor, puts me in rather as-
surance than hope that thou art not ignorant of that
summum honum, which is only able to make thee
happy as well in thy death as in thy life ; I mean.
154 LORD BURLEIGH.
the true knowledge and worship of thy Creator and
Redeemer ; without which all other things are vain
and miserable. So that thy youth being guided by
so sufficient a teacher, I make no doubt, that he
will furnish thy life with divine and moral docu-
ments. Yet, that I may not cast off the care be-
seeming a parent towards his child, or that thou
shouldest have cause to derive thy whole felicity
and welfare rather from others than from whence
thou receivedst thy breath and being, I think it fit
and agreeable to the affection I bear thee, to help
thee with such rules and advertisements for the
squaring of thy life as are rather gained by expe-
rience than by much reading. To the end that,
entering into this exorbitant age, thou mayest be
the better prepared to shun those scandalous
courses whereunto the world, and the lack of expe-
rience, may easily draw thee. And because I will
not confound thy memory, I have reduced them
into ten precepts; and, next unto Moses's tables, if
thou imprint them in thy mind, thou shalt reap
the benefit, and I the content.
And they are these following : —
1. When it shall please God to bring thee to
man's estate, use great providence and circumspec-
tion in choosing thy wife ; for from thence will
spring all thy future good or evil. And it is an
action of thy life like unto a stratagem of war,
wherein a man can err but once. If thy estate be
good, match near home and at leisure; if weak,
far off and quickly. Enquire diligently of her dis-
position, and how her parents have been inclined
LORD BURLEIGH. 155
in their youth. Let her not be poor,how generous(')
soever ; for a man can buy nothing in the market
with gentility. Nor choose a base and un-
comely creature altogether for wealth ; for it will
cause contempt in others and loathing in thee.
Neither make choice of a dwarf or a fool, for by
the one thou shalt beget a race of pigmies ; the
other will be thy continual disgrace; and it will
yirke (*) thee to hear her talk. For thou shalt find
it to thy grief, that there is nothing more fulsome(^)
than a she-fool.
And touching the guiding of thy house, let thy
hospitality be moderate, and according to the
means of thy estate, rather plentiful than sparing,
but not costly ; for I never knew ^ny man grow
poor by keeping an orderly table. But some con-
sume themselves through secret vices, and their
hospitality bears the blame. But banish swinish
drunkards out of thine house, which is a vice im-
pairing health, consuming much, and makes no
show. I never heard praise ascribed to the drunk-
ard but the well bearing his drink, which is a better
commendation for a brewer's horse or drayman,
than for either a gentleman or a serving-man. Be-
ware thou spend not above three of four parts of
thy revenues, nor above a third part of that in thy
house ; for the other two parts will do no more than
defray thy extraordinaries, which always surmount
the ordinary by much : otherwise thou shalt live,
like a rich beggar, in continual want. And the
(>) Well born. (2) Irk. (3) Disgusting.
156 LORD BURLEIGH.
needy man can never live happily nor contentedly ;
for every disaster makes him ready to mortgage or
sell. And that gentleman who sells an acre of
land sells an ounce of credit ; for gentility is no-
thing else but ancient riches. So that if the
foundation shall at any time sink, the building
must needs follow. So much for the first pre-
cept.
2. Bring thy children up in learning and obe-
dience, yet without outward austerity. Praise
them openly, reprehend them secretly. Give them
good countenance, and convenient maintenance,
according to thy ability; otherwise thy life will
seem their bondage, and what portion thou shalt
leave them at thy death they will thank death for
it, and not thee. And I am persuaded that the
foolish cockering (') of some parents, and the over-
stern carriage of others, causeth more men and
women to take ill courses than their own vicious
inclinations. Marry thy daughters in time, lest
they marry themselves. And suffer not thy sons
to pass the Alps ; for they shall learn nothing
there but pride, blasphemy, and atheism. Q) And
if by travel they get a few broken languages, that
shall profit them nothing more than to have one
meat served in divers dishes. Neither, by my con-
(') Over indulgence.
(2) This strong caution against travelling seems like a pre-
sage of the future evils it was to produce to his own family. His
grandson, William, the second Earl of Exeter, and his great
grandson, Lord Roos, were both, when at Rome, made prose-
lytes to the Popish religion.
LORD BURLEIGH. 157
sent, shalt thou train them up in wars ; for he that
sets up his rest to live by that profession can
hardly be an honest man or a good Christian. Be-
sides, it is a science no longer in request than use.
For soldiers in peace are like chimneys in sum-
mer.
3. Live not in the country without corn and cat-
tle about thee : for he that putteth his hand to the
purse for every expense of household, is like him
that keepeth water in a sieve. And what provision
thou shalt want, learn to buy it at the best hand :
for there is'one penny saved in four betwixt buying
in thy need, and when the markets and seasons
serve fittest for it. Be not served with kinsmen, or
friends; or men intreated to stay ; for they expect
much and do little ; nor with such as are amorous,
for their heads are intoxicated. And keep rather
too few, than one too many. Feed them well, and
pay them with the most ; and then thou may est
boldly require service at their hands.
4. Let thy kindred and allies be welcome to thy
house and table. Grace them with thy counte-
nance, and further them in all honest actions ; for,
by this means, thou shalt so double the band of
nature, as thou shalt find them so many advocates
to plead an apology for thee behind thy back. But
shake off those glow-worms, I mean parasites and
sycophants, who will feed and fawn upon thee in
the summer of prosperity ; but, in an adverse
storm, they will shelter thee no more than an ar-
bour in winter.
5. Beware of suretyship for thy best friends. He
158 LORD BURLEIGH.
that payeth another man's debt seeketh his own de-
cay. But if thou canst not otherwise choose, ra-
ther lend thy money thyself upon good bonds,
although thou borrow it. So shalt thou secure thy-
self and pleasure thy friend. Neither borrow mo-
ney of a neighbour or a friend, but of a stranger ;
where, paying for it, thou shalt hear no more of
it. Otherwise thou shalt eclipse thy credit, lose
thy freedom, and yet pay as dear as to another.
But in borrowing of money be precious of thy
word ; for he that hath care of keeping days of
payment is lord of another man's purse.
6. Undertake no suit against a poor man with-
out receiving (') much wrong; for, besides that
thou makest him thy compeer, it is a base con-
quest to triumph where there is small resistance.
Neither attempt law against any man before thou
be fully resolved that thou hast right on thy side;
and then spare not for either money or pains ; for
a cause or two so followed and obtained will free
thee from suits a great part of thy life.
7. Be sure to keep some great man thy friend ,
but trouble him not for trifles. Compliment him
often with many, yet small gifts, and of little
charge. And if thou hast cause to bestow any
great gratuity, let it be something which may be
daily in sight: otherwise, in this ambitious age,
thou shalt remain like a hop without a pole, live in
obscurity, and be made a football for every in-
sulting companion to spurn at.
(') Unless you receive.
LORD BURLEIGH. 159
8. Towards thy superiors be humble, yet ge-
nerous.(') With thine equals, familiar, yet re-
spective. Towards thine inferiors show much hu-
manity, and some familiarity : as to bow the body,
stretch forth the hand, and to uncover the head ;
with such like popular compliments. The first
prepares thy way to advancement, — the second
makes thee known for a man well bred, — the third
gains a good report; which, once got, is easily
kept. For right humanity takes deep root in the
multitude, as they are more easily gained by un-
profitable courtesies than by churlish benefits.
Yet I advise thee not to aflfect, or neglect, popu-
larity too much. Seek not to be Essex : shun to
be Raleigh. («)
9. Trust not any man with thy life, credit, or
estate. For it were folly for a man to enthral
himself to his friend, as though, occasion being
offered, he should not dare to become an enemy.
10. Be not scurrilous in conversation, not sa-
tirical in thy jests. The one will make thee un-
welcome to all company ; the other pull on quar-
rels, and get the hatred of thy best friends. For
suspicious jests, when any of them savour of truth,
leave a bitterness in the minds of those w^hich are
touched. And, albeit I have already pointed at
this inclusively, yet T think it necessary to leave it
to thee as a special caution ; because I have seen
(') Not mean.
(2) Essex was the idol of the people; his rival, Raleigh, their
aversion, till his undeserved misfortunes attracted their compas-
sion, and his heroism their applause.
1(30 SIR HENRY SIDNEY.
many so prone to grip and gird, (') as they would
rather lose their friend than their jest. And if
perchance their boiling brain yield a quaint scoff,
they will travail to be delivered of it, as a woman
with child. These nimble fancies are but the
froth of wit.
LETTER CCCLTV.
Sir Henry Sidney to his son, Philip Sidney, (then
twelve years of age,) at school at Shrewsbury.
I have received two letters from you, one written in
Latin, the other in French, which I take in good
part, and will you to exercise that practice of learn-
ing often ; for that will stand you in most stead, in
that profession of life that you are born to live in.
And, since this is my first letter that ever I did write
to you, I will not, that it be all empty of some ad-
vices, which my natural care of you j^rovoketh me
to wish you to follow, as documents to you in this
your tender age. Let your first action be the lifting
up of your mind to Almighty God, by hearty prayer,
and feelingly digest the words you speak in prayer,
with continual meditation, and thinking of Him to
whom you pray, and of the matter for which you
pray. And use this as an ordinary, at, and at an
ordinary hour. Whereby the time itself will put
(') Mock and jibe.
SIR HENRY SIDNEY. 161
you in remembrance to do that which you are ac-
customed to do. In that time apply your study to
such hours as your discreet master doth assign
you, earnestly ; and the time (I know) he will so
limit, as shall be both sufficient for your learning,
and safe for your health. And mark the sense
and matter of all that you read, as well as the
words. So shall you both enrich your tongue
with words, and your wit with matter; and judg-
ment will grow as years groweth in you. Be
humble and obedient to your master, for unless
you frame yourself to obey others, yea, and feel in
yourself what obedience is, you shall never be
able to teach others how to obey you. Be courte-
ous of gesture, and affable to all men, with diver-
sity of reverence, according to the dignity of the
person. There is nothing that winneth so much
with so little cost. Use moderate diet, so as, after
your meat, you may find your wit fresher, and
not duller, and your body more lively, and not
more heavy. Seldom drink wine, and yet some-
times do, lest being enforced to drink upon the
sudden, you should find yourself inflamed. Use
exercise of body, but such as is without peril of
your joints or bones. It will increase your force,
and enlarge your breath. Delight to be cleanly,
as well in all parts of your body as in your gar-
ments. It shall make you grateful in each com-
pany, and otherwise loathsome. Give yourself to
be merry, for you degenerate from your father, if
you find not yourself most able in will and body,
to do any thing, when you be most merry : but
VOL. III. M
162 SIR HENRY SIDNEY.
let your mirth be ever void of all scurrility, and
biting words to any man, for a wound given by a
word is oftentimes harder to be cured, than that
which is given with the sword. Be you rather a
a hearer and bearer away of other men's talk, than
a beginner or procurer of speech, otherwise you
shall be counted to delight to hear yourself sjDeak.
If you hear a wise sentence, or an apt phrase,
commit it to your memory, with respect of the cir-
cumstance, when you shall speak it. Let never
oath be heard to come out of your mouth, nor
words of ribaldry : detest it in others, so shall cus-
tom make to yourself a law against it in yourself.
Be modest in each assembly, and rather be re-
buked of light fellows, for maiden-like shame-
facedness, than of your sad friends for pert bold-
ness. Think upon every word before you utter it,
and remember how nature hath rampired up (as it
were) the tongue with teeth, lips, yea, and hair
without the lips, and all betokening reins, or bri-
dles, for the loose use of that member. Above all
things tell no untruth, no, not in trifles. The cus-
tom of it is naughty, and let it not satisfy you,
that, for a time, the hearers take it for a truth ; for
after it will be known as it is, to your shame ; for
there cannot be a greater reproach to a gentleman,
than to be accounted a liar. Study and endea-
vour yourself to be virtuously occupied. So shall
you make such an habit of well-doing in you, that
you shall not know how to do evil, though you
would. Remember, my son, the noble blood you
are descended of, by your mother's side; and
SIR MATTHEW HALE. 163
think that only by virtuous life and good action,
you may be an ornament to that illustrious fami-
ly; and otherwise, through vice and sloth, you
shall be counted, lahes generis, one of the greatest
curses that can happen to man. Well, my little
Philip, this is enough for me, and too much I fear
for you. But if I shall find that this light meal
of digestion nourish any thing the weak stomach
of your young capacity, I will, as I find the same
grow stronger, feed it with tougher food. Your
loving father, so long as you live in the fear of
God.
LETTER CCCXLV.
Sir Matthew Hale to his Son.
Robin,
You are now about sixteen years old ; you have
passed the more innocent part of your life, and are
come to that age wherein the vanity of youth, and
the necessity of an education more distant from
your father's eye, do expose you to more dangers
and temptations than formerly.
You are like a small pinnace beginning to put
out to sea, wherein are many rocks and quicksands,
which, besides accidental storms and tempests, may
endanger you in your voyage. And many times
youths do contract those ill customs about your
age, that either ruin them betimes, or, like mali
genii, follow them to their graves, or at best, are not
M 2
164 PHILIP HENRY.
without difficulty and loss of time broken. My
business at this time is to give you some counsels
in writing that may abide with you, and may be
frequently considered by you, for the avoiding those
rocks and dangers that are incident to your age,
complexion, and future condition. And it will be
your wisdom, reputation, and advantage, often to
consider them ; constantly to observe them, and in
them to look upon me as present, advising you,
observing you, and reprehending your neglect, or
commending your observance. And, indeed, you
have a straiter eye upon you than mine can be ;
which is upon your ways, though mine always
cannot be. The advice that is given you comes
from a father, and, therefore, carries in it love and
authority; and it comes from one that hath, by
God's assistance, passed through your age and the
dangers incident to it ; and hath had a strict obser-
vation and long experience, and, therefore, carries
in it more weight and safety.
LETTER CCCLVI.
Philip Henry to his youngest Daughter, on a proposal
of marriage made to her.
My dear Daughter,
Your present affair we can truly say was no less a
surprise to us, than it was to you ; but we have
PHILIP HENRY. 165
learned, both from our fixed belief of God's uni-
versal providence in every thing*, and his particular
special providence towards those that fear him, and
also from our last year's experience, once and
again, of his doing that for us which we looked not
for ; — to cease our wonder, and to apply ourselves,
as we ought to do, to our duty. We would have you
do so likewise, saying, as Paul, which was the first
word that grace spoke in him, — Lord, ivhat wilt
thou have me to do P Your way is, in the first
place, to acknowledge God, not only in the thing
itself, but in all the motions and events of it ; and,
if you do so, he will direct you ; that is, guide and
bless, and succeed your steps. You are, next, to
admit the person into your converse as in another
case, with all purity ;(') that is, at no unfitting
time, in no unfitting place, manner, or other cir-
cumstance ; as it will not be desired, so will it not
be granted. Your end, herein, is to be the same
with his ; your next end, that you may be ac-
quainted with each other's temper and disposition.
Especially that you may feel the pulse of each
other's soul, how it beats towards God, and his
works and ways. As the agreement is in that, ac-
cordingly will be much of the sweetness and com-
fort of the condition.
If height and fulness in the world were the things
that would make us happy, those who have them
0) 1 Tim. V.2.
1G6 PHILIP HENRY.
would be the happy people ; but it is not so. Tt
shall be my endeavour, as far as I can, to inform
myself how things are in those matters, that there
may be no mistake on either side, and then to do
as there shall be cause. You will remember one
thing, which you have often heard from me in
other's cases, though never in your own, and that
is, to keep yourself free from all engagements, by
promise, till the time come when it shall be thought
proper, by mutual consent, that I contract you,
which will be time enough for you to do that. To
how many hath the not observing this rule been a
snare ! We are truly thoughtful for you, you may
well believe, but must not be too thoughtful. Unto
God we must, and do, commit our way in it, and
so must you yours, *' casting all our care upon him,
for he careth for us." We have, hitherto, found
his contrivances best, not ours. I am glad you
have so worthy a friend as Mrs. M. K , to un-
bosom yourself to, and to help to advise you, and
pray for you. T told your brother when I thought
it would be convenient you should come home. If
he has not opportunity of sending you then, we
shall, soon after, God willing, send for you. Our
love and blessing is to him, and our daughter, and
to your dear self, having confidence in you in all
things; (') (but it is "through the Lord" as it is
limited, Galatians, v. 10 ;) that you will act as I
have counselled you.
(') 2 Cor. vii. 16.
LADY RUSSELL. 167
Committing you to his protection and guidance,
I rest.
Your loving father,
Philip Henry.
LETTER CCCLVII.
Lady Russell to her son, the young Duke of Bedford.
Stratton, July, 1706.
When I take my pen to write this, I am, by the good-
ness and mercy of God, in a moderate and easy state
of health — a blessing I have thankfully felt through
the course of a long life, which (with a much greater
help) the contemplation of a more durable state,
has maintained and upheld me through varieties of
providences and conditions of life. But all the de-
lights and sorrows of this mixed state must end ;
and I feel the decays that attend old age creep so
fast on me,(') that, although I may yet get over some
more years, however, I ought to make it my frequent
meditation, that the day is near, when this earthly
tabernacle shall be dissolved, and my immortal
spirit be received into that place of purity, where
no unclean thing can enter ; there to sing eternal
praises to the great Creator of all things. With
the Psalmist I believe, *' at His right hand there are
pleasures for evermore :" and what is good and of
eternal duration, must be joyful above what we can
(') Lady Russell was now past seventy years of age.
168 LADY RUSSELL.
conceive ; and what is evil and of like duration, mnst
be despairingly miserable. And now, my dear child,
I pray, I beseech you, I conjure you, my loved son,
consider what there is of felicity in this world, that
can compensate the hazard of losing an everlast-
ing easy being ; and then deliberately weigh, whe-
ther or no the delights and gratifications of a vicious
or idle course of life are such, that a wise or
thoughtful man would choose or submit to. Again,
fancy its enjoyments at the height imagination
can propose or suggest ; (which yet rarely or never
happens, or if it does, as a vapour soon vanishes ;)
but let us grant it could, and last to fourscore
years, is this more than the quickest thought to
eternity ? Oh, my child ! fix on that word, eter-
nity ! Old Hobbes, with all his fancied strength
of reason, could never endure to rest or stay upon
that thought, but ran from it to some miserable
amusement.
Look up to the firmament and down to the
deep, how can any doubt a divine power ? And
if there is, what can be impossible to infinite
power ? Then, why an infidel in the world ? And
if not such, who then would hazard a future state,
for the pleasure of sin a few days ? No wise man,
and indeed, no man that lives and would deserve
to see good days ; for the laws of God are grateful.
In his gospel the terrors of majesty are laid aside,
and he speaks in the still and soft voice of his Son
incarnate, the fountain and spring whence flows
gladness. A gloomy and dejected countenance
LADY RUSSELL. 169
better becomes a galley-slave tlian a Christian,
where joy, love, and hope should dwell. The
idolatrous heathen performed their worship with
trouble and terror, but a Christian and a good
liver, with a merry heart and lightsome spirit : for,
examine and consider well, where is the hardship
of a virtuous life? (when we have moderated our
irregular habits and passions, and subdued them
to the obedience of reason and religion.) We are
free to all the innocent gratifications and delights
of life; and we may lawfully, nay, further, I say
we ought to rejoice in this beautiful world, and all
the conveniences and provisions, even for plea-
sure, we find in it ; and which, in much goodness,
is afforded us to sweeten and allay the labours and
troubles incident to this mortal state, nay, insepa-
rable, I believe, by disappointments, cross acci-
dents, bad health, unkind return for good deeds,
mistakes even among friends, and what is most
touching, death of friends. But in the worst of
these calamities, the thought of a happy eternity
does not alone support, but also revive the spirit of
a man ; and he goeth forward to his labour with
inward comfort, till the evening of his day, (that
is, his life on earth,) and with the Psalmist, cries
out, " I will consider the heavens, even the work
of thy fingers, the moon and the stars, which thou
hast ordained. What is man that thou art mind-
ful of him, or the son of man, that thou shouldest
so regard him ?" (') " Thou madest him lower than
1 Psalm viii.
170 LADY RUSSELL.
the angels, to crown him with glory." Here is
matter of praise and gladness. " The fool," as the
Psalmist expresses it, " hath said in his heart.
There is no God ;" or, let us consider the man, who
is content to own an invisible power, yet tries to
believe, that when man has done living on this
earth he lives no more ; but I would ask, if any
of these unhappy creatures are fully persuaded, or
that there does not remain in those men, at times,
(as in sickness or sober thoughtfulness,) some sus-
picion or doubt that it may be other than they
try to think. And although they may, to shun
such a thought, or be rid of such a contemj^lation,
run away from it to some unprofitable diversion,
or, perhaps, suffer themselves to be rallied out of
such a thought, so destructive to the way they
walk in ; yet to be sure, that man does not feel the
peace and tranquillity he does, who believes a
future state, and is a good man. For although
this good man, when his mind may be clouded
with some calamity, very grievous to him, or the
disorder of vapours, to a melancholy temper, I say,
if he is tempted to some suspicion, that it is pos-
sible it may be other than he believes, (pray ob-
serve,) such a surmise or thought, nay, the belief,
cannot drive him to any horror : he fears no evil,
because he is a good man, and with his life all sor-
row ends too ; therefore, it is not to be denied, he
is the wisest man who lives by the Scripture rule,
and endeavours to keep God's law. First, his mind
is in peace and tranquillity ; he walks sure who
keeps innocence, and takes heed to the thing that
LADY RUSSELL. 171
is right. Secondly, he is secure: God is his friend ;
that Infinite Being; and He has said, "Come
unto me, ye that are heavy laden; my yoke is
easy;" but guilt is, certainly, a heavy load; it
sinks and damps the spirits. " A wounded spirit
who can bear ?'* And the evil, subtle spirit waits
(I am persuaded) to drive the sinner to despair,
but godliness makes a cheerful heart.
Now, O man, let not past errors discourage:
who lives and sins not ? God will judge the ob-
stinate, profane, unrelenting sinner; but, full of
compassion to the work of his own hand, if they
will cease from doing evil and learn to do well,
pray for grace to repent, and endeavour with that
measure which will be given, if sincerely asked
for; for at what time soever a sinner repents, (but
observe, this is no license to sin, because at any time
we may repent,) for that day we may not live to see ;
and so, like the fool in the parable, our lamps be
untrimmed when we are called upon. Remember,
that to forsake vice is the beginning of virtue : and
virtue certainly is most conducive to content of
mind and a cheerful spirit. He (the virtuous
man) rejoiceth with a friend in the good things he
enjoys; fears not the reproaches of any; no evil
spirit can approach to hurt him here, or accuse
him in the great day of the Lord, when every soul
shall be judged according as they have done good
or evil. Oh, blessed state ! fit for life, fit for
death ! In this good state I wish and pray for all
mankind ; but most particularly, and with all the
ardour I am capable of, to those I have brought
172 LADY ANNE FANSHAWE.
into the world, and those dear to them. Thus are
my fervent and frequent prayers directed, — that
you may die the death of the righteous, and to
this end, that Almighty God would endue you with
all spiritual wisdom, to discern what is pleasing
in his sight.
LETTER CCCLVIII.
Lady Anne Fanshawe to her Son.
I have thought it good to discourse to you, my
most dear and only son, the most remarkable ac-
tions and accidents of your family, as well as
those more eminent ones of your father ; and my
life and necessity, not delight or revenge, hath
made me insert some passages Avhich will reflect
on their owners, as the praise of others will be but
just, which is my intent in this narrative. I
would not have you be a stranger to it ; because,
by the example, you may imitate what is applica-
ble to your condition in the world, and endeavour
to avoid those misfortunes we have passed through,
if God please.
Endeavour to be innocent as a dove, but as wise
as a serpent ; and let this lesson direct you most in
the greatest extremes of fortune. Hate idleness,
and curb all passions ; be true in all words and
actions ; unnecessarily deliver not your opinion ;
but when you do, let it be just, well-considered,
and plain. Be charitable in all thought, word,
LADY ANNE FANSHAWE. 173
and deed, and ever ready to forgive injuries done
to yourself, and be more pleased to do good than
to receive good.
Be civil and obliging to all, dutiful when God
and nature command you ; but friend to one, and
that friendship keep sacred, as the greatest tie
upon earth ; and be sure to ground it upon virtue ;
for no other is either happy or lasting.
Endeavour always to be content in that estate of
life which it hath pleased God to call you to ; and
think it a great fault not to employ your time,
either for the good of your soul, or improvement of
your understanding, health, or estate ; and as these
are the most pleasant pastimes, so it will make
you a cheerful old age, which is as necessary for
you to design, as to make provision to support the
infirmities which decay of strength brings : and it
was never seen that a vicious youth terminated in
a contented, cheerful old age, but perished out of
countenance. Ever keep the best qualified per-
sons' company, out of whom you will find advan-
tage; and reserve some hours daily to examine
yourself and fortune ; for if you embark yourself
in perpetual conversation or recreation, you will
certainly shipwreck your mind and fortune. Re-
member the proverb — " Such as his company is,
such is the man," and have glorious actions before
your eyes, and think what shall be your portion
in heaven, as well as what you desire on earth.
Manage your fortune prudently, and forget not
that you must give God an account hereafter, and
upon all occasions.
17-1 LADY ANNE FANSHAWE.
Remember your father whose true image, though
I can never draw to the life, unless God will grant
me that blessing in you; yet because you were
but ten months and ten days old when God took
him out of this world, I will for your advantage,
show you him with all truth, and without par-
tiality.
He was of the highest size of men, strong, and
of the best proportion ; his complexion sanguine,
and his skin exceedingly fair; his hair dark brown,
and very curling, but not very long ; his eyes grey
and penetrating, his nose high, his countenance
gracious and wise, his motion good, his speech
clear and distinct. He never used exercise but
walking, that generally with some book in his
hand, which oftentimes was poetry, in which he
spent his idle hours ; sometimes he would ride out
to take the air, but his most delight was to go
only with me in a coach some miles, and there
discourse of those things which then most pleased
him, of what nature soever.
He was very obliging to all, and forward to
serve bis master, his country, and friend ; cheerful
in his conversation ; his discourse ever pleasant,
mixed with the sayings of wise men, and their
histories repeated as occasion offered, yet so re-
served that he never showed the thought of his
heart, in its greatest sense, but to myself only ;
and this I thank God with all my soul for, that he
never discovered his trouble to me but he went from
me with perfect cheerfulness and content ; nor re-
vealed he his joys and hopes but he would say, that
LADY ANNE FANSHAWE. 175
they were doubled by putting them in my breast.
I never heard^^him hold a disputation in my life;
but often he would speak against it, saying, it was
an uncharitable custom, which never turned to the
advantage of either party. He would never be
drawn to the fashion of any party, saying, he
found it sufficient honestly to perform that em-
ployment he was in : he loved and used cheerful-
ness in all his actions, and professed his religion
in all his life and conversation. He was a true
Protestant of the Church of England, so born, so
brought up, and so died ; his conversation was so
honest, that I never heard him speak a word in
my life that tended to God's dishonour, or encou-
ragement of any kind of debauchery or sin. He
was even much esteemed by his two masters,
Charles the First and Charles the Second, both for
great parts and honesty, as for his conversation, in
which they took great delight; he being so free
from passion, that made him beloved of all that
knew him ; nor did I ever see him moved but with
his master's concerns, in which he would hotly
pursue his interest through the greatest difficul-
ties.
He was the tenderest father imaginable, the
carefulest and most generous master I ever knew ;
he loved hospitality, and would often say, it was
wholly essential for the constitution of England :
he loved and kept order with the greatest decency
possible ; and though he would say I managed his
domestics wholly, yet I ever governed them and
176 LADY ANNE FANSHAWE.
myself by his commands; in the managing of
which, I thank God, I found his approbation and
content.
Now you will expect that I should say some-
thing that may remain of us jointly, which I will
do, though it makes my eyes gush out with tears,
and cuts me to the soul to remember, and in part
express the joys I was blessed with in him. Glory
be to God, we never had but one mind throughout
our lives. Our souls were wrapped up in each
other's ; our aims and designs one, our loves one,
and our resentiments one. We so studied one the
other, that we knew each other's minds by our
looks. Whatever was real happiness, God gave it
me in him ; but to commend my better half,
which I want sufficient expression for, methinks is
to commend myself, and so may bear a censure ;
but, might it be permitted, I could dwell eternally
on his praise most justly ; but thus without offence
I do, and so you may imitate him in his patience,
his prudence, his chastity, his charity, his gene-
rosity, his perfect resignation to God's will ; and
praise God for him as long as you live here, and
with him hereafter in the kingdom of heaven.
Amen.
MR. ISAAC WATTS. 177
LETTER CCCLIX.
Mr. Isaac Watts (father of Dr. Watts) to his Children.
Written when in prison.
My dear Children. London, the 21st May, 1685.
Though it hath pleased the only wise God to suf-
fer the malice of ungodly men, the enemies of
Jesus Christ (and my enemies for his sake) to
break out so far against me, as to remove me from
you in my personal habitation, thereby at once
bereaving me of that comfort which I might have
hoped for in the enjoyment of my family in peace,
and you of that education which my love as a
father, and duty as a parent required me to give;
j^et such are the longings of my soul for your good
and prosperity, especially in spiritual concern-
ments, that I remember you always with myself in
my daily addresses to the throne of grace. Though
I cannot speak to you, yet I pray for you ; and do
hope that my God will hear me, and in due time
bring me to live again amongst you, if he shall see
such a mercy fit to be bestowed on me or you.
However, we must endeavour by patient waiting
to submit to his will without murmuring ; and
not to think amiss of His chastising us, knowing
that all his works are the products of infinite wis-
dom ; his designs are the advancement of his own
giory; and his ends towards his people their sanc-
tifi cation and salvation, which certainly shall be
accomplished at last, however his great provi-
VOL. III. N
178 MR. ISAAC WATTS.
dences may seem contrary to it, as to our appre-
hensions.
My dear children, since in this my absence
from you, it is the desire of one of you, that is,
my eldest son (') to have a line of counsel from his
father, I hope he has but mentioned it as the
mouth for himself, and the rest of you that are in
any wise capable of understanding, and that it
will be acceptable to you all, and regarded by
you : and therefore, I shall write in general terms
to you all that can understand it at present; and
to the rest as they grow up to understand it, if
you will keep it, or copy it for them ; for though
I am not altogether without hopes of seeing you
again, yet I am nowise certain of it, (^) all our
time being in God's hands; but I would have you
know, that you have yet a father that loves you.
I am glad to hear such a desire from any of you ;
and willing heartily to comply with it, so far as
my time, and the many disadvantageous circum-
stances that attend me, will permit.
I charge you frequently to read the Holy Scrip-
tures; and that not as a task or burden laid on
you, but get your hearts to delight in them : there
are the only pleasant histories which are certainly
true, and greatly profitable; there are abundance
of precious promises made to sinners, such as you
are by nature; there are sweet invitations and
counsels of God and Christ, to come in and lay
(') Afterwards Dr. Watts.
(2) Anticipating a lengthened exile from home, which was
the fate of many of the nonconformists.
MR. ISAAC WATTS. 179
hold of them ; there are the choice heavenly sayings
and sermons of the Son of God, the blessed pro-
phets and apostles. Above all books and writings
account the Bible the best; read it most, and lay
up the truths of it in your hearts; therein is re-
vealed the whole will of God, for the rule of man's
faith and obedience, which he must believe and
do to be holy here and happy hereafter. Let all
the learning and knowledge you attain by other
books, both at school and at home, be improved as
servants to help you the better to understand God's
word, in all the several tongues wherein you read
it. I am the larger upon this head, because therein
you may come to know your duty to God and
man ; and indeed the sum of all the counsel I
can give you, necessary for the regulating of your
behaviour towards God and man, in every station,
place, and condition of your lives, is contained in
that blessed word of God, which pronounceth a
blessing to those that read and hear it, and keep
the things that are therein written. (')
I charge you to be dutiful and obedient to all
your superiors, to your grandfather and both
grandmothers, and all other relations and friends
that are over you, but in an especial manner to
your mother, to whose care and government God
hath wholly committed you in my absence ; who,
as I am sure, dearly loves you, so she will com-
mand and direct you to her utmost ability in all
(0 Rev. i. 3.
J80 REV. THOMAS HALYBURTON.
Avays, for your good of soul and body. Consider,
she is left alone to bear all the burden of bringing
up ; and is, as it were, a widow ; her time is filled
up with many cares, and therefore do not grieve
me by any rebellious or disobedient ways; but
be willing to learn of her and to be ruled by her,
that she may have some comfort in seeing your
obedient carriage; and it will rejoice me to hear
it. Avoid bad company of wicked children; ab-
hor swearing, lying, and playing on the Sabbath-
day, and all other wicked courses ; so shall you
grow in favour with God and man. And love one
another. You that are eldest, help to teach the
younger ; and you that are younger, do not scorn
the teachings of the elder. These things I charge
and command you with the authority and love of
a father. Now commending you to God, and what
I have written to his blessing upon your hearts,
through Jesus Christ, with my dear love to your mo-
ther, my duty to your grandfather and your grand-
mothers, and love to all other friends, being indif-
ferent in health, I rest your very loving father,
Isaac Watts.
LETTER CCCLX.
Rev. Thomas Halyburton to his Nephew, on his
death-bed.
Dear Nephew,
The words of your dying uncle, the last letter from
him, should have some weight; and my earnest
REV. THOMAS HALYBURTON. 18]
desire, that it may have weight in order to your
eternal salvation, is the reason of employing some
of my last minutes, by a borrowed hand, to com-
mend unto you to make earnest of religion, and
not to rest content with a dead, dry, barren pro-
fession. I can tell you, since I came to this bed
of languishing, I have found a full proof, that re-
ligion is a real, useful, noble, and profitable thing.
I have been helped, through the mercy of God,
during my lying here, to rejoice in the goodness
of God, and lie composedly and pleasantly : no-
thing but religion, nothing, nothing but the power
of the grace of God, can have that efficacy, to en-
able me to do so ; and having found it so service-
able a friend, I could not but commend it to you.
It is a day of power only that will engage you
effectually, and will prevail with you to engage in
earnest A providence like this may rouse some
present affections, which will go off in an empty
flash again; but it must be a renewing work of
grace that will fix an abiding anchor. The Lord
in mercy engage your heart to him, that you may
find how good he is to the soul that seeks him, as
I do this day to my joy, and hope to do more fully
in a little. I could not but commend the Lord to
you, having found so much of his goodness: I
never found so much when I was in health and
prosperity, as I find now in sickness and languish-
ing. I find he makes all things to be for good to
his people; sickness or health, or diseases, or
whatever they be, all is good, and I find all for
good. I am longing to be away, and I must
182 REV. THOMAS HALYBURTON.
break off. If God be pleased to bless this advice
from a dying friend, we will meet, and meet com-
fortably in the higher house ; I mean, if you com-
ply with the design of the advice. I fear the in-
fluence of the place you live in, want of lively
ordinances, and the converse of lively Christians,
may endanger you. Converse much with the word
of God ; be much in secret prayer. God can give
a good appetite and a strong stomach, that out of
a very sapless piece of nourishment can fetch
something that will give strength, and make coarser
food subsist and nourish too. However, as soon
as you can, seek after lively ordinances : endea-
vour by all means to cultivate acquaintance with
the saints, the " excellent ones in the earth," who
fear God.
Dear nephew, I remember kindly your wife,
and I advise you, in that place where you can
scarcely have access to any ordinances, and can-
not but be exposed to many disadvantages and
dangers in point of religion — I advise you to take
the first opportunity of coming out of Babylon,
and settling your business where ye may be under
a lively means of grace. I know you are a child
of many prayers, and you were prayed back from
the gates of death, and now I wish that you may
give evidence that you have been prayed back in-
deed for mercy to yourself. I shall be glad that
this advice from a dying man come to be any way
useful to you. The Lord be with your spirit.
You cannot expect from any one of my condition,
a digested, polished letter; but I speak the words
JONATHAN EDWARDS. 183
of soberness and full composure of mind, blessed
be God. Let your kindness to the dead appear in
j'our kindness to my dear widow, whom I leave be-
hind, and my six children : show your concern for
both.
Tho. Halyburton.
LETTER CCCLXL
Jonathan Edwards to his daughter, Miss Mary
Edwards. (')
Northampton, N.A.July, 26, 1749-
My dear Child,
You may well think it is natural for a parent to
be concerned for a child at so great a distance, so
far out of view, and so far out of the reach of com-
munication ; where, if you should be taken with
any dangerous sickness, that should issue in death,
you might probably be in your grave before we
could hear of your danger. But yet, my greatest
concern is not for your health, or temporal wel-
fare, but for the good of your soul. Though you
are at so great a distance from us, yet God is every-
where. You are much out of the reach of our
care, but you are every moment in His hands.
We have not the comfort of seeing you, but He
sees you. His eye is always upon you. And if
you may but live sensibly near to God, and have
(') Afterwards IMrs. Dwight, of Northampton.
184 JONATHAN EDWARDS.
his gracious presence, it is no matter if j'ou are far
distant from us. I had rather you should remain
hundreds of miles distant from us, and have God
near to you by his Spirit, than to have you always
with us, and live at a distance from God. And if
the next news we should hear of you, should be
of your death, though that would be very melan-
choly ; yet, if at the same time we should receive
such intelligence concerning you, as should give
us the best grounds to hope, that you had died in
the Lord, how much more comfortable would this
be, though we should have no opportunity to see
you, or to take our leave of you in your sick-
ness, than if we should be with you during all its
progress, and have much opportunity to attend
upon you, and converse and pray with you, and
take an affectionate leave of you, and after all have
reason to apprehend, that you died without the
grace and favour of God. It is comfortable to
have the presence of earthly friends, especially in
sickness, and on a death-bed ; but the great thing
is to have God our friend, and to be united to
Christ, who can never die any more, and from
whom our own death can not separate us.
My desire and daily p rayer is, that you may, if
it may consist with the will of God, meet with
God where you are, and have much of his divine
influence on your heart, wherever you may be;
and that, in God's due time, you may be returned
to us again, in all respects under the smiles of
Heaven, and especially, in prosperous circum-
stances in your soul, and that you may find us all
JONATHAN EDWARDS. 185
alive and well. But that is uncertain; for you
know what a dying time it has been with us in this
town, about this season of the year, in years past.
There is not much sickness prevailing among us
as yet, but we fear whether mortal sickness is not
now commencing. Yesterday, the only remain-
ing son of Mr. C died of a fever, and is to
be buried to-day. May God fit us all for his
will!
I hope that you will maintain a strict and con-
stant watch over yourself, against all temptations,
that you do not forsake and forget God, and par-
ticularly, that you do not grow slack in secret re-
ligion. Retire often from this vain world, from all
its bubbles and empty shadows, and vain amuse-
ments, and converse with God alone ; and seek
effectually for that divine grace and comfort, the
least drop of which is worth more than all the
riches, gaiety, pleasures, and entertainments of the
whole world.
Your very affectionate father,
Jonathan Edwards.
Your mother and all the family give their love
to you.
186 REV. JOHN NEWTON.
LETTER CCCLXII.
Rev. John Newton to a young Friend about to leave his
country.
Dear Sir, August 24, 1774.
The lowness of your voice, and a blamable ab-
sence of mind on my part, prevented me from
understanding what you said when you took your
leave of me ; nor did T just at that instant recol-
lect that you were so soon going away. I could
not otherwise have parted with you, without a par-
ticular expression of my warmest wishes for your
welfare, and commending you with an emotion,
which my heart always feels for you, to our God,
and the word of his grace. Permit me therefore
by writing to assure you, so far as I can answer for
myself, that the request you were pleased to make
for my remembrance will not be forgotten by me.
You are going abroad ; you will carry with you,
I doubt not, the best advice, strengthened by the
authority and affection of parents, whom you
greatly love and greatly reverence. This may seem
to make any thing a stranger can offer unnecessary,
if not impertinent ; yet, confiding in your candour,
and in your good opinion of my intention, I shall
venture to let my pen run on a little longer. Not
only my wishes, but my hopes are strong in your
behalf. Perhaps there is hardly a young man in
the kingdom, born to a fortune, who is setting out
in life upon equal advantages with yourself. How
REV. JOHN NEWTON. 187
many at your years, who have been brought up in
affluence, are unprincipled, uninstructed, and have
already entered upon a course of dissipation and
folly, in which it is impossible they themselves can
find satisfaction, and which, (unless they are re-
claimed from it by an Almighty arm,) will infallibly
preclude them from usefulness or esteem ! whereas
your early years have been successfully employed
in the pursuit of knowledge, and your education
formed under the most animating and endearing
influence; and the Lord has furnished you with
every natural ability of body and mind, which may
qualify you to serve him in that situation of life
which his providence has allotted you. j
What may I not then further hope from these
beginnings, especially as it is easy to observe, that
he has given you an amiable and promising disposi-
tion of spirit, and has not only preserved you from
being hurried down the stream of a giddy world,
but enabled you to account the tender restraint un-
der which you have been educated, not a yoke, but
a privilege.
I sympathise with you at what you will feel when
you are first separated from your happy family.
But the Lord God, who is the sun and shield of
those who fear him, will be always near you ! His
favour is the one thing needful, which no outward
advantages can compensate the want of; and the
right knowledge of him is the one thing needful,
which no human teaching can communicate.
Were I more intimate with you, I could have
asked the question, and perhaps received the satis-
188 REV. JOHN NEWTON.
faction to know, that you have already begun to
consider him in this light; that you feel a vanity in
science, an emptiness in creatures, and find that
you have desires, which only He who gave them
can satisfy. I trust it either is, or will be thus.
As to learning, though it is useful when we know
how to make a right use of it, yet considered as in
our own power, and to those who trust to it, with-
out seeking a superior guidance, it is usually the
source of perplexity, strife, scepticism, and infideli-
ty. It is indeed like a sword in a madman's hands,
which gives him the more opportunity of hurting
himself and others. As to what the world calls
pleasure, there is so little in it, that even the philo-
sophers of old, or many of them, though they had
little of value to substitute in its room, could de-
spise it. You will perhaps meet with some, who
will talk another language, who will pretend to be
too wise to submit to the Bible, and too happy in
worldly things, to expect or desire any happiness
beside ; but I trust you have seen enough to enable
you to treat such persons with the pity, and such
pretensions with the contempt they deserve.
Should we set our concerns with an eternal world
aside for a moment, it would be easy to demonstrate
that religion is necessary, in order to make the most
of this life, and to enjoy temporal good with the
highest relish. In such a world as this, where we
are every moment liable to so many unforeseen and
unavoidable contingencies, a man without religion
may be compared to a ship in a storm, without
either rudder, anchor, or pilot. But then, the reli-
REV. JOHN NEWTON. 189
gion which only deserves the name, must come from
above ; it must be suited to the state and wants of a
sinner, it must be capable of comforting the heart,
it must take away the sting and dread of death, and
fix our confidence upon one who is always able to
help us. Such is the religion of Jesus, such are its
effects, and such are the criteria whereby we are
to judge of the various forms and schemes under
which it is proposed to us. But I forbear; I am
only reminding you of what you know, and what
you have known to be verified by living and dying
examples. This happiness, my dear sir, is open
to you, to all who seek. He is enthroned in hea-
ven, but prayer will bring him down to the heart.
Indeed he is always beforehand with us ; and if we
feel one desire towards him, we may accept it as a
token that he gave it us to encourage us to ask for
more.
May He be your guide and guard, be with you at
all times, and in all places, and bring you back to
your father's house in peace. Should I live to see
that day, you have few friends whose congratula-
tions would be warmer or more sincere than mine ;
and if when you are settled and at leisure, you will
afford me a letter, it will be both a pleasure and
a favour to, dear sir.
Yours, &c.
iOO REV. JAMES HERVEY.
LETTER CCCLXIII.
Rev. James Hervey to a younger Brother, on his being
about to be apprenticed.
Dear Brother, Dummer, June 27, 1737'
I find you are at London, looking out for a trade,
and a master to set yourself to. T hope you pray
earnestly to God to guide you in your choice by
his infinite wisdom. He only knows what kind of
employ will be best for you ; in what family or
neighbourhood you will have the most helps and
encouragements to holiness ; where you will be
most exposed to temptations, to evil company, and
to an early corruption. Therefore, remember what
you have learned in the third chapter of Proverbs ;
and now, above all other times, put in practice,
** In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall
direct thy paths." Beseech the all-wise God to go
before you in this weighty undertaking, and to
lead you to such a matter, and to settle you in such
a place, where you may, the most advantageously,
work out your salvation. Desire also your ho-
noured mother, and mine, to have a great regard to
your soul, and the things that make for its welfare,
in putting you out. Let it be inquired, not only
whether such a tradesman be a man of substance
and credit, but whether he be also a man of religion
and godliness ? Whether he be a lover of good
people ? a careful frequenter of the church ? Whe-
ther his children be well nurtured and educated
REV. JAMES HERVEY. 191
in the fear of the Lord. Whether family prayer
be daily offered up in his house. Whether he be-
lieves that the souls of his servants are committed
to his trust, and that he will be answerable for the
neglect of them at the judgment-seat ? It will be
sadly hazardous to venture yourself under the roof
of any person who is not furnished with these
principles, or is a stranger to these practices. But,
if he be quite contrary to all these, a despiser of God
and goodness, wholly devoted to carnal pleasure,
and worldly gain ; if he not only omit the religious
care and oversight of his household, but also set
them a wicked and corrupt example — let nothing
induce you to enter his service. A lewd, drinking,
swearing, cheating master, will be sure to dis-
regard the sobriety and purity of your behaviour,
and very likely to corrupt it. To have his disor-
derly carriage daily before your eyes, will be as
dangerous as to lodge in a plague-house. There-
fore, let no consideration of profit or advantage, or
of any other sort, prevail with you to become ap-
prentice to such a one. If you do, depend on it,
you breathe tainted air; and it is much, but you
catch the deadly infection. After you are bound
to a master, you must be as diligent in doing your
duty to him, as you should be of examining into
his character before you are bound. As I have
given you my advice concerning the latter of these
particulars, I fancy you will not take it amiss if I
give you some directions concerning the former.
As soon as you are bound, you are at your master's,
and not at your own disposal : he has then a right
192 REV. JAMES HERVEY.
to your hands, your strength, and all that you can
do. He becomes a sort of parent to you ; and,
though not a natural, yet a civil father. You are
also obliged, not only by the laws of your country,
and the tenor of your indentures, but by the fifth
commandment of God, to pay him all due submis-
sion and honour. To do this is a most material
part of your duty, as a Christian, as well as your
undeniable debt, as an apprentice. It is required
of you by God, in holy Scripture, and you must
not ever imagine that you do what is pleasing to
him, unless you conscientiously perform it. Now,
that you may know what it is that your master will
expect from you, with regard to him, remember, it
consists, first, in reverence of his person ; secondly,
in obedience to all his commands ; and, thirdly, in
faithfulness to his business.
In reverence of his person, you must esteem him
very highly for his superiority's sake, and the re-
semblance he bears to God. For God, who made
you, and has an uncontrolable power over you, has
communicated some of that power to your master,
so that you are to look upon him as the representa-
tive, in some sort, of the divine Majesty, and in-
vested with some of his authority. Accordingly,
St. Paul says, (i) you must count him worthy of all
honour ; all, that is, internal and external, that of
the actions and words, as well as that of the heart.
It is not enough to maintain a worthy estimation
inwardly ; but you must let it appear on all occa-
(') 1 Tim. i.
REV. JAMES HERVEY. 193
sions outwardly, by behaving yourself very obli-
gingly to liim before his face, and by speaking
very respectfully of him behind his back. Sup-
pose you should discern failings and infirmities in
him, you must by no means divulge them, or make
yourself merry with them, much less must you dare
to set light by any of his orders. Whatever you
have reason to think will grieve or displease him,
will be prejudicial or offensive to him, that you
must cautiously forbear.
Obedience to his commands. See how full the
apostle speaks to this purpose, " Servants, obey in
all things your masters according to the flesh." (^)
Observe likewise, from this passage, not only the
necessity, but also the compass and latitude of
your obedience ; how large and extensive it is. It
reaches, not barely to a few, but to all and every
instance. If you should receive orders that are
ever so much against the grain of your own incli-
nation, you must force yourself to comply with
them; receive them as you used to do nauseous
physic, though they be unpleasant at first, they
will do you good, and be comfortable to you after-
wards ; your own pleasure must always stoop,
and give way to your master's. If he sets you
such a task as is mean and ignoble, and such as (ac-
cording to the expression of the world) is be-
neath a gentleman's son, do not scruple it, dear
brother, but dispatch it cheerfully. Remember
who hath said, *' Servants, obey your masters in all
(1) Col. iii. 22.
VOL. III. O
194 REV. JAMES HERVEY.
things." And, oh ! remember, that be we as well
born and bred as we will, yet He that was higher
than the highest of us all, even the most excellent
and illustrious person that ever lived, condescended
to the lowest and (such as our fine folks would
account the) shamefulest offices. The Lord Je-
sus Christ, though the brightness of his Father's
glory, disdained not to wash his disciples' feet.
Neither be dejected because you are treated in an
unworthy manner, or set to do some mean and low
office for him, or his family, but rejoice rather in
this, that you are made like unto your Redeemer;
and in the happy prospect you will have of becoming
great in heaven, by being so little on earth. I am
aware this piece of advice is not so unexception-
able as the rest, it may possibly be adjudged the
mark of too yielding and sneaking a spirit; but
never forget that the things which are most highly
esteemed by God, are held in least repute by men.
I know, and am sure, that if any apprentice would
make such a compliance for the sake of preserving
peace, and out of conscience to the command of
God, and with an eye to the example of Christ,
there is a day coming when he will not repent of
it; when it will not be deemed a blot in his charac-
ter, but be an ornament of grace to his head, and
more comely than chains about his neck. (') Well,
you see your obedience must be universal; you
must come when he calls you, and go where he
bids you, do all that he commands you, and let
Q) Prov. 1.9.
REV. JAMES HERVEY. 195
alone all that he forbids you. This must, more-
over, be done, not grudgingly or of necessity, but
readily and gladly : for hear what the Scripture
saith, " Whatsoever ye do, do it heartily ;" (') and
again, "With good-will doing service." (^) So
that we must not creep, but be quick. You must
not go about it with grumbling words and mutter-
ing in your mouth, but with so satisfied an air, as
may show that you are pleased with whatever pleases
your master.
In faithfulness in his business. This is the last
branch of your duty to your master; and, since*
Moses has obtained an honourable testimony on
this account, be you also faithful in all his house. (^)
You may find this, as indeed all the qualifications
of a good servant, described by St. Paul, "Not
purloining," says he, " but showing all fidelity."('*)
You are charged not to purloin ; that is, not to
keep back from your master, nor to put into your
own pocket ; nor convert to your own use, any of
that money, which in the way of trade, passes
through your hands. You were taught from your
childhood to keep your hands from picking and
stealing ; and, I hope you abhor such abominable
practices from the bottom of your heart. You
must not sell at a cheaper, and buy at a dearer
rate, in order to have some valuable consideration
made you privily in your own person. These
diflfer from robbing on the highway, (they are
flagrant acts of dishonesty, and will cry to heaven
(') Col. iii. 23. («) Eph. iii. 6.
(') Heb. iii. 5. C) Tit. ii. 10.
O 2
196 REV. JAMES HERVEY.
for vengeance,) only in being less open and notori-
ous. Such tricks and villainous devices do the
same thing by craft and treachery, as house-
breakers do by force and violence. Therefore,
dear brother, renounce, detest, and fly from them
as much as from fire, arrows, and death. Besides,
you are not only to abstain from such clandestine
knavery, but also to show all good fidelity. What
is meant by this, you may understand, by reading
how Joseph conducted himself in Potiphar's ser-
vice. Your master, it is likely, will commit the
management of some of his affairs to you ; and
you must endeavour, by a discreet behaviour, and
a pious life, to bring the blessing of the Lord upon
all that you take in hand. You must lay out your
time and your labour, and give all diligence to an-
swer the trust reposed in you. You must not de-
lay the business which is urgent; nor do your
work by halves, nor transfer that to others which is
expected you should do yourself. "The slothful
man," says Solomon, " is brother to him that is
a great waster;" therefore you must avoid idleness
and carelessness. In a word, you must do nothing
knowingly and wilfully, that is likely to impover-
ish your master ; but seek, by all lawful and laud-
able means, to increase his substance. All this
you must observe, not only when he stands by
you, and inspects you, but when his back is turned,
and you are removed from his view ; otherwise
your service is nothing but eye-service, such as
will prove odious to man, and is already con-
demned by God. For, if you appear to be indus-
REV. JOHN NEWTON. 107
trious and in earnest before your master, but to
loiter and trifle when out of his sight, you will be
chargeable with hypocrisy, a sin extremely hateful
to Christ, and grievously pernicious to the soul.
But I am afraid I tire you; this one sentence,
therefore, and I have done. You must carry your-
self throughout the whole course of your appren-
ticeship so respectfully, so obediently, so faith-
fully, that at the end of it, you may truly say with
Jacob, "With all my power I have served your
father." I had more to write, but will send you
(if you care to accept it) the remainder some other
time. May God bless you all, and your affectionate
brother,
James Hervey.
LETTER CCCLXIV.
Rev. Johit Newton to his adopted Child.
My dear Child, Oct. 15, 1782.
It is rather to your disadvantage that I have lately
corrected a mistake I had made. I thought you
were but twelve years old last birth-day; but I
read in a blank leaf of the great Bible, that my
child was born June 22, 1769; consequently you
are now in your fourteenth year. Therefore, to
keep pace with my ideas and wishes, you ought to
be a whole year more advanced in improvements of
every kind than you are, a whole year wiser. Some
198 REV. JOHN NEWTON.
things which I might think very tolerable in mj-
child, supposing she was but twelve years old, will
seem but rather so so, when I know she is thirteen ;
and some things of another sort will be quite un-
suitable at the age of thirteen, which might be
more excusable if you were but twelve. You see,
my dear child, you must stir your stumps, and use
double diligence to fetch up this year, which we
have somehow lost out of the account. You have a
year less for improvement, and are a year nearer to
the time in which you will begin to appear like a
young woman than I expected. I know not but I
should have been pleased to find that I had made
a mistake on the other side, and that you were a
year younger than I had supposed you. As it is,
I shall hope the best; I do not complain of you.
As I love you dearly, so I have much comfort in
you : and I trust you will pray to the Lord for
yourself, as I do for you, that he may give you
his grace and wisdom and blessing ; then I know
you will do well. But sometimes, when I consi-
der what a world you are growing up into, and
what snares and dangers young people are ex-
posed to, with little experience to help them, I
have some painful feelings for you. The other day
I was at Deptford, and saw a ship launched : she
slipped easily into the water ; the people on board
shouted ; the ship looked clean and gay, she was
fresh painted, and her colours flying. But I looked
at her with a sort of pity : " Poor ship!" I thought,
" you are now in port and in safety ; but ere long
you must go to sea. Who can tell what storms
REV. JOHN NEWTON. 199
you may meet with hereafter, and to what hazards
you may be exposed ; how weather-beaten you
may be before you return to port again, or whether
you may return at all \" Then my thoughts turned
from the ship to my child. It seemed an emblem
of your present state : you are now, as it were, in a
safe harbour; but by and by you must launch out
into the world, which may well be compared to a
tempestuous sea. I could even now almost weep at
the resemblance; but I take courage; my hopes
are greater than my fears. I know there is an in-
fallible Pilot, who has the winds and the waves at
his command. There is hardly a day passes in
which I do not entreat him to take charge of you.
Under his care I know you will be safe; he can
guide you unhurt amidst the storms, and rocks,
and dangers, by which you might otherwise suffer,
and bring you at last to the haven of eternal rest.
I hope you will seek him while you are young,
and I am sure he will be the friend of them that
seek him sincerely ; then you will be happy, and I
shall rejoice. Nothing will satisfy me but this ;
though I should live to see you settled to the great-
est advantage in temporal matters, except you
love him, and live in his fear and favour, you
would appear to me quite miserable. I think it
would go near to break my heart ; for, next to your
dear mamma, there is nothing so dear to me in
this world as you. But the Lord gave you to me,
and I have given you to him again, many and
many a time upon my knees, and therefore I hope
you must, and will, and shall be his.
200 REV. RICHARD CECIL.
LETTER CCCLXV.
Rev. Richard Cecil to his Son.
My dear Israel, Feb. 1802.
Your mamma received your letter at the time I
was at * * *. She is greatly satisfied that you so
tenderly remember what I said to you. The truth
is, my dear, that your mind is greatly improved,
and we cannot but notice it and rejoice in it ; and
you may depend upon it we shall not fail to en-
courage a right disposition, to the utmost of our
power. Your attention to me, particularly, has
been marked by every one in the family, as well as
myself.
There is a point you should never lose sight of —
that when a youth takes ill courses, he begins to
be shy of his parents, that is, of his only true and
fast friends: he secretly forms connexions with
broken, if not dangerous reeds ; and often plunges
thereby into difficulties and disappointments, that
his real friends cannot help him out of. 1 am re-
joiced to see you take the contrary course.
I marked that wise and dutiful confidence with
which you treated me; and that jealousy you had,
as to how you stood in my mind. Watch against
any thing which may damp and impede this early
friendship with your truest friend, and you will
prosper. Our family and friends are well, excejDt
* * *, who is daily getting worse ; but then what is
that to her ? She has fought the good fight ; and
CHRISTIAN FREDERICK SWARTZ. 201
is only waiting a little longer for her crown of glory.
See what a blessed thing it is to be ready to meet
what we all must meet. A king is a beggar, com-
pared to a Christian.
Present my kindest regards to Mr. * * *. Be
careful to keep up your character with that excel-
lent man and friend. Be also assured that I re-
main.
Your very affectionate father,
R. C.
XETTER CCCLXVI.
Christian Frederick Swartz, the missionary, to the Son
of his deceased friend, Colonel Wood.
Dear John, Tanjore, Sept. 22, 1780.
I have received your kind letter, and rejoiced that
the son of my much-esteemed friend, who is now
in eternity, goes on in learning such things as will
make him useful in society. You learn Latin,
geography, arithmetic, French, drawing; all which
may be very serviceable to you, and beneficial to
your fellow-creatures. I entreat you, therefore, to
be very diligent, and to spend your time in the
best manner. I remember that, when I learnt
vocal music in my younger days, I did not think
that I should use it much. And behold, now,
every morning and evening, when the Malabar
children come to prayer, I teach them to sing in
praise of their Redeemer. Every week they learn
20'2 CHRISTIAN FREDERICK SWARTZ.
one hymn ; for they are slow. Now I am well
pleased that I was instructed in vocal music. All
things may become useful to us and others.
But then, my dear friend, our intention, our de-
sires must be well managed ; or, in other words,
our hearts must be truly minded. As you have
spent many months and years in learning use-
ful things, let your heart now be given over to
your God : otherwise your learning will not prove
beneficial ; nay, which is deplorable, it may be
used to your detriment.
As you are so well placed, I beseech you, by
the mercy of God, my dear John, to mind now the
best, the one needful thing. Examine your heart;
and whatever you find in it that is not agreeable to
the will of God (and you will find much of that
sort) acknowledge it : bewail it before your God :
entreat him to wash and cleanse you from all your
sins. Rest not till you find rest to your soul.
Having obtained pardon and peace through
Jesus, watch and pray that you may not lose what
you have gained; but that you may rather grow
daily in faith, love, and hope.
In your conversation with young people be very
cautious. Their thoughts and speeches are often
too frothy ; aye, and even dangerous. Above all,
try to gain strength, divine strength, to overcome
that sinful bashfulness, whereby many people are
ashamed to confess or practise what they approve
in their hearts. If you read your Bible, and pray
heartily to God, you will get strength every day to
go on and prosper in his way.
REV. CLAUDIUS BUCHANAN. 203
Our time is but short. Eternity, awful, beautiful
eternity, is at hand. Let us, therefore, not trifle
away our time ; but let us seek the Lord and his
grace, his blessing, and his strength.
As you, my dear John, are blessed with a pious
mother, who is unspeakably desirous of promoting
your welfare, I hope you will take all possible care
to comfort and rejoice her heart, by your humble
obedience and grateful behaviour.
Though I never have seen your schoolmaster, it
is enough to induce me to revere him, that we hear
he is a faithful servant of the Lord Jesus Christ.
May God bless him, and all that is under his care !
So wishes
Your affectionate friend,
C. F. SVVARTZ.
LETTER CCCLXVIT.
Rev. Claudius Buchanan, when in India, to his two j'oung
Daughters in England, after their mother's death, who died
at sea, on the voyage to rejoin her husband.
I am now about to quit India, and to go home to
see you. I propose to leave Calcutta in the course
of next month. If I find it dangerous to go home
over-land, I shall proceed from Bombay by sea. I
shall probably sail over those waters where your
dear mother lies. Do you not know, that at the re-
surrection of the dead she will come forth with a
204 MRS. SUSAN HUNTINGTON.
" glorious body ?" Though it be " sown in dis-
honour, it is raised in glory." Of this you may
read in the Bible, and in the burial service. Your
mother will come forth with a " glorious body ;"
for she was a good woman, and remembered her
Creator in the days of her youth. Perhaps I shall
die too before I reach England. You ought there-
fore to pray that God would preserve my life, if it
be his will, (for I desire to do his will in all things,)
that I may see you, and show you the affection of
a father, and receive the affection of daughters, and
lead you onward with myself to that happy state,
whither your mother is gone before you.
Your affectionate father,
Claudius Buchanan.
LETTER CCCLXVIII.
Mrs. Susan Huntington to her Son, at Andover.
My dear J , Boston, January 13, 1823.
The imagination that religion will make them
unhappy, is one of the most common, and one
of the most successful temptations which the
adversary of souls employs with people, espe-
cially with the young, to induce them to delay and
delay the business of attending to their salvation,
till it is too late to attend to it at all. One of the
first religious exercises I remember, (I was not
MRS. SUSAN HUNTINGTON. 2C5
more than three years old,) was a solemn consul-
tation in my mind, whether it was best to become a
Christian then or not. If I did not, T thought I was
in a dangerous state. But then if I did, — why, I
should never have any more comfort in this world.
I must never laugh, never play, never enjoy my-
self; but be always solemn, and dull, and gloomy.
The result was, that I concluded it not best to be a
Christian yet. But, blessed be God 1 he pursued
me with his grace, as I humbly hope, so that I found
there could be no happiness, no comfort, while
God and I were enemies. He broke up the en-
chantment of Satan, and showed me, that these
dreams and plans of earthly delight were all false
and fatal, and held up to me by the enemy of my
soul to cheat me to perdition.
What pleasures will religion deprive you of, my
son ? May you not play just as innocently, and
with more satisfaction, with religion than without
it ? Depend upon it, religion will not debar you
from any reasonable and lawful pleasure. All that
it forbids you is sin. And do you wish for a license
to sin comfortably ? God forbid. Every Christian
will tell you that the law of God, which it is his
delight to obey, leaves open to him the enjoyment
of all those innocent comforts connected with our
situation in this world as men, which his own
mercy has so amply provided for us, and provided
that they may be used. You have known me long,
my J , and been more capable of observing me
since your dear father's death. Does religion de-
prive me of any pleasures? Does it diminish my
206 BISHOP GIBSON.
enjoyment ? No, my dear child. To the honour
and glory of my blessed Lord, let me tell you, it
was this which held up my soul when passing
through the deep "waters, where there was no stand-
ing; which enabled me to rejoice in God, and to
feel that, although my earthly prospects were
shrouded in darkness, all was safe, all was well;
which has enabled me sometimes to feel, that,
though the whole creation were shivered to atoms,
and mingled together in one universal wreck, I
should still find all to be safe and well. I have
given you to God, and I do so every day. You
must, my dear boy, be his servant ; and you shall
find his service perfect freedom.
SECTION V,
LETTERS FROM OR TO MINISTERS, ON VARIOUS INTE-
RESTING POINTS CONNECTED WITH THE JIINISTE-
RIAL AND PASTORAL FUNCTIONS.
LETTER CCCLXTX.
Bishop Gibson to Dr. Watts. " A word" always " in
season, to ministers."
Good Sir, Whitehall, April 23, 1737-
I have perused your discourse upon humility (')
with much satisfaction, and, I hope, with profit to
(>) Dr. Watts's " Discourse on Humility represented in the
character of St. Paul."
REV. JOHN NEWTON. 207
myself; if not I am sure it is my own fault. There
was no occasion to make the apolog-y for descend-
ing to the lowest scenes of life. It is a fault both
in preaching and writing upon practical subjects,
when we keep too much to general reasoning, and
do not bring down our doctrines to common life,
which are best remembered, and take the fastest
hold upon the mind and consciences of our hearers
and readers.
I wish you a full enjoyment of health, that you
may be able to proceed in your good designs for the
benefit of religion ; and am, with great truth and
esteem.
Sir, your, &c.
LETTER CCCLXX.
Rev. John Newton to a Nobleman. Important remarks
on pastoral visits to the sick and dying. Practical proofs they
afford of the truth of the gospel. Important lessons they are
calculated to teach.
My Lord, March 10, 1774.
For about six weeks past I have had occasion to
spend several hours of almost every day with the
sick and the dying. These scenes are to a minister
like walking the hospitals to a young surgeon. The
various cases which occur, exemplify, illustrate,
and explain, with a commanding energy, many
truths, which may be learned indeed at home, but
208 REV. JOHN J^EWTON.
cannot be so well understood, or their force so sen-
sibly felt, without the advantage of experience and
observation. As physicians, besides that competent
general knowledge of their profession which should
be common to them all, have usually their several
favourite branches of study, some applying them-
selves more to botany, others to chemistry, others
to anatomy ; so ministers, as their inclinations and
gifts differ, are led more closely to consider some
particular branch of the system of divine truth.
Some are directed to state and defend the doctrines
of the gospel; some have a talent for elucidating
difficult texts of Scripture ; some have a turn for
explaining the prophetical parts, and so of the rest.
For myself, if it be lawful to speak of myself, and
so far as 1 can judge, anatomy is my favourite
branch ; I mean the study of the human heart,
with its workings and counter-workings, as it is
differently affected in a state of nature or of grace,
in the different seasons of prosperity, adversity,
conviction, temptation, sickness, and the approach
of death. The Lord, by sending me hither, pro-
vided me a good school for these purposes. I
know not where I could have had a better, or af-
fording a greater variety of characters, in propor-
tion to the number of people ; and as they are
mostly a poor people^, and strangers to that address
which is the result of education and converse with
the world, there is a simplicity in what they say or
do, which gives me a peculiar advantage in judging
of their cases.
But I was about to speak of death. Though the
REV. JOHN NEWTON. 209
grand evidence of those truths upon which our
hopes are built, arises from the authority of God
speaking them in his word, and revealing them by
his Spirit to the awakened heart; (for till the heart
is awakened it is incapable of receiving this evi-
dence;) yet some of these truths are so mysterious,
so -utterly repugnant to the judgment of depraved
nature, that, through the remaining influence of
unbelief and vain reasoning, the temptations of
Satan, and the subtle arguments with which some
men, reputed wise, attack the foundations of our
faith, the minds even of believers are sometimes ca-
pable of being shaken. I know no better corrobo-
rating evidence for the relief of the mind under
such assaults than the testimony of dying persons,
especially of such as have lived out of the noise of
controversy, and who, perhaps, never heard a syl-
lable of what has been started in these evil days,
against the Deity of Christ, his atonement, and
other important articles. Permit me, my Lord, to
relate, upon this occasion, some things which ex-
ceedingly struck me in the conversation I had with
a young woman whom I visited in her last illness
about two years ago. She was a sober, prudent
person, of plain sense, could read her Bible, but
had read little beside: her knowledge of the world
was nearly confined to the parish ; for I suppose
she was seldom, if ever, twelve miles from home in
her life. She had known the gospel about seven
years before the Lord visited her with a lingering
consumption, which at length removed her to a
better world. A few days before her death, I had
VOL. III. P
210 REV. JOHN NEWTON.
been praying by her bed-side, and in my prayer I
thanked the Lord, that he gave her now to see that
she had not followed cunningly-devised fables.
When I had finished, she repeated that word, "No,
she said, not cunningly-devised fables ; these are
realities indeed ; I feel their truth, I feel their com-
fort. O tell my friends, tell my acquaintance, tell
enquiring souls, tell poor sinners, tell all the daugh-
ters of Jerusalem, (alluding to Solomon's Song,
from which she had just before desired me to preach
at her funeral,-) what Jesus has done for my soul.
Tell them, that now in the time of need I find him
my beloved and my friend, and as such I commend
him to them." She then fixed her eyes steadfastly
upon me, and proceeded, as well as I can recollect,
as follows : " Sir, you are highly favoured in being
called to preach the gospel. I have often heard
you with pleasure; but give me leave to tell you,
that I now see all you have said, or can say, is com-
paratively but little. Nor till you come into my
situation, and have death and eternity full in your
view, will it be possible for you to conceive the vast
weight and importance of the truths you declare.
Oh 1 sir, it is a serious thing to die ; no words can
express what is needful to support the soul in the
solemnity of a dying hour."
I believe it was the next day when I visited her
again. After some discourse as usual, she said,
with a remarkable vehemence of speech, " Are you
sure I cannot be mistaken ?" I answered without
hesitation, " Yes, I am sure. I am not afraid to say,
ray soul for yours that you are right." She paused
REV. JOHN NEWTON. 211
a little, and then replied, " You say true, 1 know I
am right. I feel that my hope is fixed upon the
Rock of ages: I know in whom I have believed.
Yet if you could see with my eyes, you would not
wonder at my question. But the approach of death
presents a prospect, which is till then hidden from
us, and which cannot be described." She said much
more to the same purpose ; and in all she spoke
there was a dignity, weight, and evidence, which I
suppose few professors of divinity, when lecturing
from the chair, have at any time equalled. We
may well say with Elihu, " Who teacheth like him ?"
Many instances of the like kind I have met with
here. I have a poor girl near me who looks like
an idiot, and her natural capacity is, indeed, very
small; but the Lord has been pleased to make her
acquainted alternately with great temptations, and
proportionably great discoveries of his love and
truth. Sometimes, when her heart is enlarged, I
listen to her with astonishment. I think no books
or ministers I ever met with have given me such an
impression and understanding of what the apostle
styles ret (iaQi^ tov Qeov, as I have upon some oc-
casions received from her conversation.
But I am rambling again. My attendance upon
the sick is not always equally comfortable, but
could I learn aright, it might be equally instruc-
tive. Some confirm the preciousness of a Saviour
to me, by the cheerfulness with which, through
faith in his name, they meet the king of terrors.
Others no less confirm it, by the terror and reluc-
tance they discover when they find they must die ;
p 2
212 REV. JOHN NEWTON.
for though there are too many who sadly slight the
blessed gospel while ^they are in health, yet in this
place most are too far enlightened to be quite
thoughtless about their souls, if they retain their
senses in their last illness. Then, like the foolish
virgins, they say, " Give us of your oil :" then they
are willing that ministers and professors should pray
with them and speak to them. Through the Lord's
goodness, several whom I have visited in these cir-
cumstances have afforded me good hope ; they have
been savingly changed by his blessing upon what
has passed at the eleventh hour. I have seen a
marvellous and blessed change take place in their
language, views, and tempers, in a few days. I
now visit a young person, who is cut short in her
nineteenth year by a consumption, and I think can-
not live many days. I found her very ignorant and
insensible, and she remained so a good while ; but
of late I hope her heart is touched. — She feels her
lost state, she seems to have some right desires, she
begins to pray, and in such a manner as I cannot
but hope the Lord is teaching her, and will reveal
himself to her before she departs. But it is some-
times otherwise. I saw a young woman die last
week ; I had been often with her ; but the night
she was removed she could only say, " O, I cannot
live, I cannot live !" She repeated this mournful
complaint as long as she could speak ; for as the
vital powers were more oppressed, her voice was
changed into groans; her groans grew fainter and
fainter, and in about a quarter of an hour after she
had done speaking she expired. Poor thing ; I
REV. JOHN NEWTON. 213
thought, as I stood by her bed-side, if you were a
duchess, in this situation, what could the world do
for you now ? I thought, likewise, how many things
are there that now give us pleasure or pain, and as-
sume a mighty importance in our view, which, in
a dying hour, will be no more to us than the clouds
which fly unnoticed over our heads. Then the
truth of our Lord's aphorism will be seen, felt, and
acknowledged, " One thing is needful ;" and we
shall be ready to apply Grotius's dying confession
to (alas !) a great part of our lives. Ah vitam per-
didi nihil agendo labor iose.
Your lordship allows me to send unpremeditated
letters. I need not assure you this is one.
I am, &c.
LETTER CCCLXXT.
Rev. John Newton to Rev. Mr. S , a minister suffer-
ing from depression of spirits, and complaining of the ill suc-
cess of his labours.
My dear Friend, July 7, 1770.
I received -your piteous doleful letter; I hope it is
needless now to attempt to comfort you, and that
this will find Satan cast out, and the man restored
to his right mind, sitting at the feet of Jesus. I
pity you that you have so many conflicts ; yet I re-
joice with you, because T know the Lord intends
you good by these tossings, and will thereby keep
214 REV. JOHN NEWTON.
you humble and dependent. Is it not better to be
sifted and shaken, than to be left to fall in such
snares as some have been taken in, whom you have
accounted better than yourself? But why are you
so ready to throw down your shield, and to talk of
running away from the buttle ? He that harasses
you while you hold the gospel-plough, would be
presently with you if you were ploughing in the
field. Nor can any change of circumstances put
you out of his reach, unless you could tell how to
run away from yourself.
It is said, " Thou shalt not muzzle the ox that
treadeth out the corn." I am sure the Lord has
not muzzled you : how is it then, that while you
set forth a free salvation to others, you do not feed
upon it yourself; but contradict your own preach-
ing, and reason and complain, as though you had
found out that the blood of Jesus Christ cannot
cleanse from all sin ; or, as though the Lord were
as changeable as you are ? I know you are a
staunch Calvinist in your judgment, or I should
think you an Arminian, by some of your com-
plaints.
When the enemy would tempt you to murmur
about a provision, tell him that he knows, (for he
walks to and fro on the earth,) that, taking the king-
dom round, there is not one minister of the gospel
in ten, so well provided for as you. And if so,
you may ask him, if you have not much more cause
for thankfulness than murmuring. What you have,
the Lord has given you ; if he sees that is too little,
REV, JOHN NEWTOxX. 215
he will moreover give you such and such things. (')
But then it must be in his way and time, and not
in your own. How can you teach others to live a
life of faith, except you learn, by daily experience,
to live it yourself ? And the life of faith is main-
tained, not by bags and coffers, but by pleading the
promises in prayer, when we have nothing else to
look to.
As to the success of your ministry, it is no part
of your concern, further than to make it matter of
prayer. Faithfulness and diligence is our part;
the rest is the Lord's. I suppose you are quite as
acceptable in B , as Jeremiah was in Jerusa-
lem ; and probably see more to encourage you in
your hearers, than he did in his. He was not very
popular, but he was plain and honest ; and if not
owned to save the souls of others, he delivered his
own. And, after all, the Lord did just as much by
him, as he purposed before he called him ; and he
did not a tittle more than he had purposed before-
hand, by the preaching of St. Paul.
But it seems, you think other people preach bet-
ter than you. I hope you will always think so ; if
you should be mistaken, it is a fault on the right
side. But other people think so too. I am not so
sure of that ; but if they do, it is perhaps to chas-
tise you for your unbelieving fears. If you have a
mind to outdo yourself, and to outdo us all, I will
give you a receipt — Believe. Themoi'e you believe,
the better you will preach. If the ministers they
(') 2 Sam. xiUS.
216 REV. JOHN NEWTON.
commend are faithful, simple preachers of the
truth, depend upon it, the more your people like
them, the more they will like you. I believe you
are as free from a fear of being outshone by others
as most men; but there is some of this leaven in
all our hearts : let us watch and pray against it,
and heartily wish and pray, that all who preach
Jesus, may do it with more power and success than
we can ourselves. We shall not be the poorer for
their riches ; but our Lord and theirs will take it
well of us ; and if he sees us simply content to
take the lowest place, he will raise us up higher ;
for it is a standing law in his kingdom, that he
that humbleth himself shall be exalted.
I have touched on all your complaints, and
brought myself to the end of my paper. Not-
withstanding what I have written, I could fill a
sheet with sorrowful stories in my turn ; but '*The
Lord is good.^^
I am affectionately yours.
LETTER CCCLXXTI.
Rev. John Newtov to the Rev. Mr. S . Caution and
encouragement.
My dear Sir, May 31, 1775.
Though we agreed to wave apologies, it would be-
come me to make a very humble one if I should
long delay writings now you have favoured me
REV. JOHN NEWTON. 217
with a second letter. I thank you for both : it gives
us real pleasure to hear of your and Mrs. * * * ^s
welfare.
I rejoice that the Lord keeps your spirit alive in
his work, and lets you see that your labour is not
in vain. O the honour, the blessedness of being
an instrument in his hands of feeding his gathered
sheep and lambs, and bringing wanderers into his
fold! That is a striking and beautiful thought of
the apostle, "■ as poor, yet making many rich."
When I feel my own poverty, my heart wandering,
my head confused, graces languid, gifts apparently
dormant; when I thus stand up with half a loaf, or
less, before a multitude, and see the bread multi-
ply in the breaking, and that, however it may be
at the time with myself as to my own feelings, the
hungry, the thirsty, the mourners in Sion are not
wholly disappointed ; when I find that some, in
the depth of their outward afflictions, can rejoice
in me, as the messenger by whom the Lord is
pleased to send them a word in season, balm for
their wounds, and cordials for their cases, then, in-
deed, I magnify mine office. Let who will take the
lead in the cabinets of princes : let those whom the
Lord permits shine in the eyes of men, as states-
men, generals, or favourites. He has given me the
desire of my heart, and I am more disposed to
pity than to envy those whom the world admires.
On the day when the Lord admitted me into the
ministry, and I received ordination, I thought he
had then ennobled me, and raised me to greater
honour and preferment than any earthly king
218 REV. JOHN NEWTON.
could have bestowed ; and, blessed be bis name, I
think so still, and had rather be curate of * * *
than in any situation the world can afford, if de-
tached from the privilege of preaching- the gospel.
Yet I find the ministry a bitter sweet ; the pleasure
is tempered with many things that make a near and
painful impression upon the spirit ; but, upon the
whole, it is given unto me (and I trust to you
likewise) to rejoice in it.
The civility of your genteel neighbours is an
agreeable circumstance, so far as it can be pre-
served without inconvenience. I am quite of your
mind, that our calling as Christians does not re-
quire us to be cynical, and that many professors,
and perhaps preachers, bring needless trouble
upon themselves, for want of a gentle loving spirit.
The gospel teaches us to show benevolence and an
obliging carriage to all. Yet there is an extreme
upon the other hand, which is, upon the whole,
more dangerous. They are singularly favoured
vi'hom the Lord is pleased to guide and to keep in
the golden mean. What we call a polite and cul-
tivated behaviour, is certainly no real bar to that
faithfulness we owe to God or man ; and if main-
tained under a strict scriptural restraint, may
greatly soften prejudices, and conciliate the good-
will even of unawakened hearers in a considerable
degree. But, indeed, those who have it, have need
of a double guard of watchfulness and prayer, for
latet anguis in herha; and unless the eye be kept
very single, and the heart dependent upon the
Lord, we are more liable to be drawn into a com-
REV. JOEIN NEWTON. 219
pliance with the ways of the polite world, than
likely to prevail on them to follow us, so far as we
follow Christ. And I could name instances where
it has appeared to me, that the probable good ef-
fects of a very faithful testimony in the pulpit, have
(humanly speaking) been wholly defeated, by too
successful endeavours to be agreeable out of it.
The world will often permit a minister to think,
and perhaps to preach as he pleases, provided he
will come as near them as possible in a sociable
conformity. Sat verbum sapienii. I hope you will
not be angry with me, but rather impute it to my
cordial affection, if I feel some fears, lest the
kindness of your neighbours should insensibly, in
some degree at least, damp your zeal and abate your
influence. I trust my fears are groundless, and my
admonitions quite unnecessary ; but let me plead
the old line in my excuse;
Res est solliciti plena timoris amor.
I see you possessed of all advantages, recom-
mended by family, situation, education, and ad-
dress, and encompassed, it seems, with people who
are disposed to receive you favourably upon these
accounts. I see you stand in a post of honour, and
therefore 1 know Satan eyes you, and watches sub-
tilly for an advantage against you. Were he to raise
a storm of persecution against you, and attack you
openly, I should be in little pain for the event. For
I believe the Lord has given you such a sense of
the worth of the gospel, that you would not be
threatened easily into a timid silence; and, per-
2'20 REV. JOHN NEWTON.
haps, that natural warmth of temper which you
speak of, might be of some advantage were the
assault made on this side. This, perhaps, Satan
knows; he knows how to suit temptations to tem-
pers and circumstances ; and if, like Achilles, you
have a vulnerable heel, I apprehend you more in
danger of suffering loss by the smiles than by the
frowns of men. Since I have seen some eminent
ministers, whom I need not name to you, so sadly
hurt, both in their experience and in their useful-
ness (and many more in private life,) by worldly
connexions, I am ready perhaps to take the alarm,
and to sound the alarm too soon. But I know that
the heart is deceitful in all, and I know that often
the first steps by which we deviate from the path
of duty, diverge so gently and imperceptibly from
the right line, that we may have actually lost our
way before w^e are sensible we have missed the
road. After all, I hope this, my grave remon-
strance, has sprung entirely from my own misap-
prehension of a few lines in your first letter, and
will stand for nothing but to show^ that I love you,
and that, professing myself a friend, I dare be
faithful. If you think me faulty, of course you
will notw^rite till you have forgiven me, and there-
fore I hope you will forgive me soon, or my pu-
nishment will be heavy enough.
The Lord has transplanted some more of my
flowers, or rather his own, to flourish in a better
climate ; but he has likewise given us a few slips
and seedlings to supply their place. The word
does not flourish here as T ought to wish it, but.
REV. JOHN NEWTON. 221
through mercy, it is not wholly without effect. We
are in good harmony ; ordinances are prized, and a
gospel conversation maintained, by those who pro-
fess. Should you ask, how it is with myself, I
know not what answer to give. My experience is
made up of enigmas, but the sum and solution of
all is. That I am a vile creature, but I have a good
Lord. He has chosen me; and I, through his rich
grace, have chosen him. I trust there is an en-
gagement between him and my soul, which shall
never be broken, because he has undertaken for
both parts, that he never will forsake me, and that
I never shall forsake him. O, I like those royal,
sovereign words, " I will," and " You shall !" How
sweetly are they suited to the sense and long expe-
rience he has given me of my own weakness, and
the power and subtilty of Satan ! If my conflicts
terminate in victory, it must be owing to his own
arm, and for his own name's sake ; for I in myself
have neither strength nor plea. If I were not so
poor, so sick, so foolish, the power, skill, riches,
wisdom, and mercy of my Physician, Shepherd,
and Saviour, would not be so signally illustrated
in my own case. Upon this account, instead of
complaining, we may glory in our infirmities. O,
it is pleasant to be deeply indebted to him, to find
him, and own him all in all :
Our husband, shepherd, brother, friend,
Our guide and guard, our way and end I
I beg a frequent interest in your prayers, and
remain.
Dear Sir, your affectionate and obliged.
222 REV. JOHN NEWTOxN.
LETTER CCCLXXIII.
Rev. John Newtox to Rev. S . A letter of reproof,
caution, and encouragement.
Dear Sir, Feb. 15, 1762.
I have been often thinking of you since your re-
moval, and was glad to receive your letter to-
day. I hope you will still go on to find more and
more encouragement to believe, that the Lord has
disposed and led you to the step you have taken.
For though I wrote with the greatest plainness and
earnestness, and would, if in my power, have pre-
vented it while under deliberation, yet now it is
done and past recal, I would rather help than dis-
hearten you. Indeed, I cannot say that my view of
the affair is yet altered. The best way not to be
cast down hereafter, is not to be too sanguine at first.
You know there is something pleasing in novelty ;
as yet you are new to them, and they to you : I
pray God that you may find as cordi»al a regard
from them as at present, when you have been with
them as many years as in the place you came from.
And if you have grace to be watchful and prayful,
all will be well ; for we serve a gracious JNIaster, who
knows how to overrule even our mistakes to his
glory and our own advantage. Yet I observe, that
when we do wrong, sooner or later we smart for
our indiscretion ; perhaps many years afterwards.
After we have seen and confessed our fault, and
received repeated proofs of pardoning love, as to the
REV. JOHN NEWTON. 223
guilt, yet chastisement, to remind us more sensibly
of our having done amiss, Avill generally find us
out. So it was with David in the matter of Uriah ;
the Lord put away his sin, healed his broken bones,
and restored unto him the light of his countenance ;
yet many troubles, in consequence of this affair,
followed one upon another, till at length (many
years afterwards) he was driven from Jerusalem by
his own son. So it was with Jacob : he dealt de-
ceitfully with his brother Esau; notwithstanding
this the Lord appeared to him and blessed him,
gave him comfortable promises, and revealed him-
self to him from time to time ; yet after an interval
of twenty years his fault was brought afresh to his
remembrance, and his heart trembled within him
when he heard his brother was coming with armed
men to meet him. And thus I have found it in
my own experience : things which I had forgotten
a long while have been brought to my mind by pro-
vidential dispensations which I little expected ; but
the first rise of which I have been able to trace far
back, and forced to confess, that the Lord is in-
deed He that judgeth the heart and trieth the reins.
I hint this for your caution : you know best upon
what grounds you have proceeded ; but if, (though
I do not affirm it, I hope otherwise,) I say, if you
have acted too much in your own spirit, been too
hasty and precipitate; if you have not been suf-
ficiently tender of your people, nor thoughtful of
the consequences which your departure will pro-
bably involve them in ; if you were impatient under
the Lord's hand, and, instead of waiting his time
224 REV. JOHN NEWTON.
and way of removing the trials and difficulties you
found, you have ventured upon an attempt to free
and mend yourself; I say,if any of these things have
mixed with your determinations, something will
fall out to show you your fault : either you will not
find the success you hope for, or friends will grow
cold, or enemies and difficulties you dream not of
will present themselves, or your own mind will
alter, so as what seems now most pleasant will afford
you little pleasure. Yet though I write thus, I
do not mean (as I said before) to discourage you,"
but that you may be forewarned, humble, and
watchful. If you should at any time have a dif-
ferent view of things, you may take comfort from
the instances I have mentioned. The trials of Da-
vid and Jacob were sharp ; but they were short, and
they proved to their advantage, put them upon acts
of humiliation and prayer, and ended in a double
blessing. Nothing can harm us that quickens our
earnestness and frequency in applying to a throne
of grace : only trust the Lord, and keep close to
him, and all that befalls you shall be for good.
Temptations end in victory ; troubles prove an in-
crease of consolation ; yea, our very fixlls and failings
tend to increase our spiritual wisdom, to give us a
ofreater knowledsfe of Satan's devices, and make us
more habitually upon our guard against them.
Happy case of the believer in Jesus ! when bitten
by the fiery serpent he needs not go far for a reme-
dy ; he has only to took to a bleeding Saviour, and
be healed.
I think one great advantage that attends a removal
REV. JOHN NEWTON. 225
into a new place is, that it' gives an easy opportu-
nity of forming a new plan, and breaking off any
little habits which we have found inconvenient, and
yet perhaps could not so readily lay aside, where our
customs and acquaintance had been long formed.
I earnestly recommend you to reflect, if you can-
not recollect some things which you have hitherto
omitted, which may properly be now taken up ;
some things formerly allowed, which may now with
ease and convenience be laid aside. I only give the
hint in general; for I have nothing in particular to
charge you with. I recommend to you to be very
choice of your time, especially the fore part of the
day ; let your morning-hours be devoted to prayer,
reading, and study ; and suffer not the importunity
of friends to rob you of the hours before noon,
without a just necessity : and if you accustom your-
self to rise early in the morning, you will find a
great advantage. Be careful to avoid losing your
thoughts, whether in books or otherwise, upon
any subjects which are not of a direct subserviency
to your great design, till towards dinner-time : the
afternoon is not so favourable to study ; this is a
proper time for paying and receiving visits, con-
versing among your friends, or unbending with a
book of instructive entertainment, such as history,
&c. which may increase your general knowledge,
without a great confinement of your attention ;
but let the morning-hours be sacred. I think you
would likewise find advantage in using your pen
more : write short notes upon the Scriptures you
read, or transcribe the labours of others ; make ex-
VOL. III. Q
226 REV. JOHN NEWTON.
tracts from your favourite authors, especially those
who, besides a fund of spiritual and evangelical mat-
ter, have a happy talent of expressing their thoughts
in a clear and lively, or pathetic manner; you
would find a continued exercise in this way would
be greatly useful to form your own style, and help
your delivery and memory ; you would become in-
sensibly master of their thoughts, and find it more
easy to express yourself justly and clearly ; what we
only read we easily lose, but what we commit to
paper is not so soon forgot. Especially remember,
(what you well know, but we cannot too often re-
mind each other,) that frequent secret prayer is
the life of all we do. If any man lack wisdom, let
him ask of God, and it shall be given ; but all our
diligence will fail, if we are remiss in this particular.
I am glad it is not thought necessary for you to go
to London on this occasion. I hope you will not
think it necessary upon any other account. Ra-
ther keep close to the work you have undertaken,
and endeavour to avoid any thing that looks like
ostentation, or a desire to be taken notice of. You
see I advise you with the freedom of a friend who
loves you, and longs to gee your work and your
soul prosper.
You will, I doubt not, endeavour to promote
the practice of frequent prayer in the houses that
receive you. I look upon prayer-meetings as the
most profitable exercises (excepting the public
preaching) in vi'hich Christians can engage : they
have a direct tendency to kill a worldly trifling
spirit, to draw down a divine blessing upon all our
REV. JOHN NEWTON. 227
concerns, compose differences, and enkindle (at
least to maintain) the flame of divine love amongst
brethren. But T need not tell you the advantages ;
you know them ; T only would exhort you ; and
the rather, as I find in my own case the principal
cause of my leanness and unfruitfulness is owing
to an unaccountable backwardness to pray. I can
write, or read, or converse, or hear, with a ready
will; but prayer is more spiritual and inward than
any of these; and the more spiritual any duty is,
the more my carnal heart is apt to start from it.
May the Lord pour forth his precious spirit of
prayer and supplication in both our hearts.
I am not well pleased with the account you give
of so many dry bones. It increases my wonder,
that you could so readily exchange so much plump
flesh and blood as you had about you for a parcel
of skeletons. I wish they may not haunt you, and
disturb your peace. God grant that your prayers
may be answered ; but if I knew a man who possess-
ed a field in a tolerable soil, which had afforded him
some increase every year ; and if this man, after
having bestowed seven years' labour in cultivating,
weeding, manuring, fencing, &c. just when he has
brought his ground (in his neighbour's judgment)
into good order, and might reasonably hope for
larger crops than he had €ver yet seen, should sud-
denly forego all his advantages, leave his good seed
for the birds to eat, pull up the young fences which
cost him so much pains to plant, and all this for
the sake of making a new experiment upon the top
of a mountain; though I might heartily wish him
0, 2
228 REV. JOHN NEWTON.
great success I could not honestly give him great
encouragement. You have parted with that for a
trifle, which in my eyes seems an inestimable jewel;
I mean the hearts and affections of an enlightened
people. This appears to me one of the greatest
honours and greatest pleasures a faithful minis-
ter can possess, and which many faithful and emi-
nent ministers have never been able to obtain.
This gave you a vast advantage ; your gift was more
acceptable there than that of any other person, and
more than you will probably find elsewhere. For
I cannot make a comparison between the hasty ap-
probation of a few, whose eyes are but beginning to
open, and their affections and passions to warm, so
that they must, if possible, have the man that first
catches their attention ; I say, I cannot think this
worthy to be compared to the regard of a people
who understood the gospel, were able to judge of
men and doctrines, and had trial of you for so many
years. It is, indeed, much to your honour, (it proves
that you were faithful, diligent, and exemplary,)
that the people proved so attached to you ; but that
you should force yourself from them, when they so
dearly loved you, and so much needed you, this has
made all your friends in these parts to wonder, and
your enemies to rejoice ; and T, alas ! know not
what to answer in your behalf to either. Say not,
" I hate this Micaiah, for he prophesies not good
of me, but evil;" but allow me the privilege of
a friend. My heart is full when I think of what
has happened, and what will probably be the con-
sequence. In a few words, I am strongly persuaded
REV. JOHN NEWTON. 229
you have taken an unadvised step, and would there-
fore prepare you for the inconvenience and uneasi-
ness you may probably meet with. And if! am (as
I desire I may prove) mistaken, my advice will do
no harm ; you will want something to balance the
caresses and success you meet with.
We should be very glad to see you, and hope you
will take your measures, when you do come, to
lengthen your usual stay, in proportion to the dif-
ference of the distance. Pray for us.
I am, &c.
LETTER CCCLXXIV.
Rev. John Newton to Rev. Mr. B . Caution respect-
ing allegorical interpretation of the Scripture.
My DEAR Friend, Oct. 1778.
Your letters are always welcome; the last dou-
bly so, for being unexpected. If you never heard
before of a line of yours being useful, I will
tell you for once, that I get some pleasure and in-
struction whenever you write to me. And I see
not but your call to letter-writing is as clear as
mine, at least when you are able to put pen to
paper.
I must say something to your queries about
2 Sam. xiv. I do not approve of the scholastic
distinctions about inspiration, which seem to have
a tendency to explain away the authority and cer-
230 REV. JOHN NEWTON.
tainty of one half of the Bible at least. Though
the penmen of Scripture were ever so well informed
of some facts, they would, as you observe, need
express, full, and infallible inspiration, to teach
them which the Lord would have selected and re-
corded for the use of the church, amongst many
others which to themselves might appear equally
important.
However, with respect to historical passages, I
dare not pronounce positively that any of them are,
even in the literal sense, unworthy of the wisdom
of the Holy Ghost, and the dignity of inspiration.
Some, yea, many of them, have often appeared tri-
vial to me; but I check the thought, and charge it
to my own ignorance and temerity. It must have
some importance, because I read it in God's book.
On the other hand, though I will not deny that
they may all have a spiritual and mystical sense,
(for I am no more qualified to judge of the deep
things of the Spirit, than to tell you what is passing
this morning at the bottom of the sea ;) yet if, with
my present modicum of light, I should undertake
to expound many passages in a mystical sense, I fear
such a judge as you would think my interpretations
fanciful, and not well supported. I suppose I
should have thought the Bible complete, though
it had not informed me of the death of Rebekah s
nurse, or where she was buried. But some tell me
that Deborah is the law, and that by the oak I am
to understand the cross of Christ: and I remember
to have heard of a preacher who discovered a type
of Christ crucified in Absalom hanging by the hair
REV. JOHN NEWTON. 231
on another oak. I am quite a mole when compared
with these eagle-eyed divines; and must often con-
tent myself with plodding upon the lower ground of
accommodation and allusion, except when the New-
Testament writers assure me what tlie mind of the
Holy Ghost was. I can find the gospel with more
confidence in the history of Sarah and Hagar, than
in that of Leah and Rachel ; though, without Paul's
help, I should have considered them both as family-
squabbles, recorded chiefly to illustrate the general
truth, that vanity and vexation of spirit are inci-
dent to the best men, in the most favoured situa-
tions. And I think there is no part of Old Testa-
ment history from which I could not (the Lord
helping me) draw observations, that might be suit-
able to the pulpit, and profitable to his people : so
I might perhaps from Livy or Tacitus. But then,
with the Bible in myhands,! go upon sure grounds:
I am certain of the facts I speak from, that they
really did happen. I may likewise depend upon the
springs and motives of actions, and not amuse my-
self and my hearers with speeches which were never
spoken, and motives which were never thought of,
till the historian rummaged his pericranium for
something to embellish his work. I doubt not but
were you to consider Joab's courtly conduct only
in a literal sense, how it tallied with David's desire,
and how gravely and graciously he granted himself
a favour, while he professed to oblige Joab : I say,
in this view you would be able to illustrate many
important scriptural doctrines, and to show that the
232 REV. JOB ORTON.
passage is important to those who are engaged in
studying the anatomy of the human heart.
I am, &c.
LETTER CCCLXXV.
Rev. Job Orton to the Rev. Thomas Stedman. A
second curacy valuable for a somewhat unusual reason.
Thoughts on preaching. Advantages of addressing a country
congregation, &c.
Dear Si R^ March 30, 1772.
I am glad of your second curacy, as it enlarges
your work, rather than as it increaseth your wages.
I was lately reading of a clergyman in your county,
who had two small livings, at which he officiated as
you purpose doing. He went to the weak and old
at each place; and the strong followed him reci-
procally.
The plan of your introductory discourse which
you sent me, of " not seeking theirs, but them,"(^)
is extremely pertinent and good. A sermon on the
Spring, a few Sundays hence, as illustrating the
spread of the gospel in the world ; and the progress
and nature of a work of grace in the heart, and the
resurrection of the dead, may be very striking and
useful. See Mark, iv. 26—29; Isaiah, xxvi. 19;
Solomon's Song, ii. 11,12. Men love sermons that
come home to their business and bosoms.
(1) 2 Cor. xiii. 14.
REV. JOB ORTON. 233
I am very sensible of your weight of business;
but you will not be disheartened, especially as you
will, I hope, more and more see (in the mercantile
style) that it answers very well. You know who
could " do all things ev Xj0i<7w evCvvafisvTi" (') and
there your eyes will be continually directed. Even
St. Paul could not do without that : and with that,
who cannot do ?
I know not what to say about extemporary preach-
ing. It may, on some accounts, be desirable and
useful ; but I dare not encourage it in young divines,
I never knew an instance of it, but the preacher
was careless in his studies, slovenly and incorrect
in his discourses ; and losing the habit of accurate
composing, could never recover it afterwards. Yet
I would by no means desire you to confine your-
self entirely to your notes. When a thought strikes
you, or something in your sermon seems to strike
your hearers, you may add a ^evf sentences, as you
find matter arising in your mind ; and, if you are
thoroughly master of your subject, and have a good
deal of your sermon, especially the application of
it, committed to memory, thus much will be easy,
and you will not hesitate and appear at a loss.
But, suppose you preach at your new church ser-
mons which you have delivered at Little Cheverel
half a year ago ; not exactly as written, but com-
mit the substance, every leading thought, and the
texts which you have introduced into them, to
memory, and then enlarge pro re natd. Or, you
(') Phil. iv. 13.
234 REV. JOB ORTON.
may compose and write out one new sermon every
week, and let it be preached at your churches alter-
nately ; and then on the other part of the day have
at the other church, your plan, texts, and leading
thoughts only written down, and discourse to your
people from them. So that each place will have a
complete, and a kind of extempoi'ary discourse
alteniately. But then, if you do this as it ought to
be done, it will very little lessen your labour ; for it
will require as much pains in studying your plan,
texts, and subordinate thoughts, and putting them
down, as in writing a sermon at large.
I have known so many ministers become injudici-
ous and unacceptable by a careless habit of compos-
ing or rather not at all, in their younger days, and in
small country places, that I make these concessions,
guarded as they are, with fear. The other extreme is
best for a young divine to err in. Besides," there is
no way by which you will so speedily and effectually
increase your fund of theological knowledge, as by
accurate composures. Thus, you will study your
subject carefully, viewing and examining it on every
side, consulting all the commentators you may have
upon your text and parallel places, and reading
what other divines (whose writings you may be pos-
sessed of) have said upon the subject. So that
were you to read nothing for a whole week, but
what you would read in this method (except his-
tory, classics, &c. by way of relaxation) I should
commend your diligence, and say, you had kept to
the good maxim, hoc age.
REV. JOB ORTON. 235
I am glad to hear of the encouragement you
meet with ! How happy are you in having such
opportunities of preaching to those to whom the
gospel (in our view of it) is a kind of novelty.
Our dissenters in general have heard of it, till they
nauseate it : so that there is little hope of its doing
them any good. This leads so many of our di-
vines to try what philosophy and abstract represen-
tations of virtue will do, without the peculiarities of
the gospel. But if they do good, it is more than I
ever saw or heard of. God is wiser than men.
And if his remedies will not do, men's will not ;
and the disease is incurable. However, we must
go on to try them, and wait on him for suc-
cess.
Of a pious minister I read, that he found his
labours had little effect upon his own parishioners,
but much upon his occasional and accidental
hearers. Of another, that being complained of by
a neighbouring clergyman, for drawing away his
parishioners on a Sunday, he answered, " I have
preached them here, let him, if he will, preach them
back again." Old bishop Latimer told such a com-
plaining divine, " Feed your flock better, and then
they won't stray." Such hints as these from emi-
nent and experienced ministers have always a
great weight on my mind ; in reading the lives of
eminent men, you will do well to insert in a pocket-
book or vade-mecum, any hints of stories, facts, or
remarks, which you would wish to remember, or
would be proper to quote in sermons or conversa-
236 REV. JOB ORTON.
tion. Unless your memory be much better than
mine ever was, you will find this necessary. I con-
gratulate you on the approach of spring, when every
scene will be enlivened around you, and a country
village will become a kind of paradise. It gives me
pleasure to think what favourable opportunities of
usefulness you will have in your rural walks, to
see your farmers and shepherds at work ; or talking
with them and their servants about their occupa-
tions, in an easy and natural way, grafting some re-
ligious hints upon it, directing them to spiritualize
their labours, and rise to God, and Christ, and
heaven, by their common occurrences. And, while
you exhort them in the words of Solomon, to " be
diligent to know the state of their flocks, and to
look well to their herds," (') you will, like a good
shepherd, take the hint yourself. May the dews of
divine grace be largely diffused into you and your
flock, that you may be adorned with all the beauty
of Christian graces, and abound in all the fruits of
righteousness !
I am your affectionate,
And faithful humble servant.
Job Orton.
(') Prov. xxvii. 23.
REV. JOB ORTON. 237
LETTER CCCLXXVI.
Rev. Job Orton to the Rev. Thomas Stedbian.
Thoughts on pastoral visiting and preaching.
Dear Sir, October 16, 1772.
My long- illness this summer threw me so much be-
hindhand with my correspondents, that I have not
yet been able to recover that punctuality which I
should be glad to maintain. I bless God I have
been in better health and spirits for three weeks
past, than for three months before, and, indeed, am
now as well as I ever expect to be. But the wet-
ness of the season is a hinderance to my riding,
walking, writing — every thing. My mind is freer
from tormenting fears ; but either these bad nerves,
or something worse, deprive me of those comfortable
hopes I wish to enjoy. But the divine Physician,
whose regimen is always right, may see it best to
keep some of his patients low. They may not bear
a higher diet : probably the health of the soul may
be best promoted by it; and then all will be well in
the issue.
I rejoice in your encouragement in your pastoral
visits. You have, I think, gone as far as you pru-
dently can at first. As your intimacy with your
people increases, they will be more open in conver-
sation with you, and then you may properly put
particular questions to them. For instance : " Do
you pray in secret ? With a form, and what form ?
or without ?" So, as to family prayer. Your me-
thod of lending books, &c. is very useful, as it will
238 UEV. JOB ORTON.
furnish you with some natural questions about
their attention and improvement ; which will not
appear forced or lugged in, and so not terrify
them, nor appear impertinent in you. It would be
well to pray iviih families, wherever you think it
can prudently be done ; and hints may be dropped
in prayer inoffensively, which may show them
their duty. Mr. Henry saith, " Prayer may preach."
And I have often found persons observing and im-
proving such hints which could not be given in an
address to them without danger of offence. But
caution is necessary here, not to let them see too
plainly what you think of their state. This may
be dangerous both ways. Petitions grounded on
the treachery of the heart, the frequency and danger
of self-deceit, and for divine search, illumination,
and guidance, are always proper and useful ; ex-
cept you have reason to believe your friends are
established Christians. Even common appella-
tions, as thy servant, thy hand-maid, may in some
cases do harm, as you know, and will know, how
prone persons are to catch at any shadow of hope
without penitence and faith. This person, or this
our friend, is less dangerous language. It is good
to pray particularly for children and servants in a
family. This pleases and edifies them, and may
suggest useful hints to them and their superiors :
but to be too particular is wrong. I think it a very
useful way to inquire of the younger children,
whether they remember the text of the last Sunday's
sermon, (as their parents should be desired to teach
it them ;) and of the elder children, whether they
REV. JOB ORTON. 239
remember any thing of the sermon. When they
expect such an inquiry, they will be more atten-
tive, and then you may familiarly talk over some-
thing of the sermon with them, particularly what
was most suited to their capacity and circumstances.
I assure you, I have often learned much from the
answers of little children to such queries ; learned
what part of a sermon they best understood, were
affected with, what kind of sentiments or language
struck them ; and so knew how better to preach to
children, that is, to nine parts in ten of every audi-
tory ; for so many are children in understanding.
To talk over with them any remarkable occurrence in
the parish or neighbourhood, as the death of a
child — sudden death — the season of the year, or
uncommon phenomena, may be useful ; or some-
times to give each a text of Scripture (always a
short one) to remember and think of against the
next meeting, and then talk it over with them ;
especially a text suited to any particular failing in
them, or circumstance of their family — as against
lying, idleness, love of finery, of slovenliness —
sleeping at church, or playing on the sabbath ; — or,
suppose once in a year you were to preach a sermon
to children, and give notice of it the preceding
Sunday. To have your notes with you in the
pulpit, yet to enlarge, as occasion may require, is
best. When pious, pertinent thoughts arise, pur-
sue them, as far as you find matter flow easily.
Application is the life and soul of preaching : warm
addresses, according to your hearers' diflferent cha-
racters, stations, and circumstances, will be useful.
240 REV. JOB ORTON.
After your pastoral visits or catechising, keep hints
of what you learn and observe, which may direct
the strain or pointing of your public discourses.
Teaching is one of the best ways of learning ; and
there is in a minister's work, as in matter, action
and reaction. His own soul and his people's will
thus be reciprocally influenced. Perhaps nothing
is more necessary, than frequently and plainly to
caution persons, especially the sick, against laying
an undue stress on the Lord's Supper, having wrong
notions of it, and expecting from it what it was never
designed to produce or convey. I have known
some worthy clergymen complain of their great
embarrassment in this respect. And as it is very
grievous to have any thing like arguing and dis-
puting with the sick and dying, this should often
be done in the pulpit and conversation when they
are well. But enough of these subjects.
I am truly concerned on account of Dr. Stone-
house's mournful accounts from India, (^) and very
tenderly sympathize with him under this severe trial;
knowing how much a person of his delicate frame
and irritable nerves, must suffer by so unexpected
an event. But I pray and hope, that God will sup-
port him, and enable him still to go on with his
Master's work. An accession of spiritual children,
begotten in Christ Jesus by the gospel preached
by him, will be his best relief and cordial under
this heavy affliction ; and in the prospect and hope
of this, I trust he will persevere. God often calls
his ministers to peculiar trials, that he may exhibit
(>) The death of his eldest son.
REV. JOB ORTON. 241
them as examples of patience, meekness, serenity,
and even cheerfulness, and lead them to recom-
mend and enforce their public exhortations there-
by. It is good to have this in our thoughts in our
afflicted seasons, and to do honour to our religion
and profession, by a resemblance to our divine
Master. To his assistance, compassion, and bless-
ing I heartily commend him.
I am your affectionate friend.
Job Orton.
LETTER CCCLXXVIL
Rev. Job Orton to the Rev. Thomas Stedman. Ad-
vantages of a country charge. Encouragement under a sense
of ill-success. Best modes of reproving vice, and disarming op-
position.
Dear Sir, March 27, 1773.
You have, I presume, had some account from Dr.
Stonehouse, of his expedition into Kent, and of his
reception there. He is now in liondon, and I sup-
pose his time is very much taken up amidst the hur-
ries, visits, and forms of the great city. I envy not
his occasional residence there, much less the state of
our brethren, who have parishes or congregations
in London : for they have very little time to com-
mand ; and, I fear, are so much taken up with avo-
cations, too trifling in themselves, but, considering
their situation, necessary to be attended to, that
their minds are too much diverted from pastoral
VOL. III. R
242 REV. JOB ORTON.
duty, and the proper business of their important
stations. The country parish-priests are much
more happy, if they understand and love their
work ; and have much more agreeable prospects of
usefulness among the people committed to their
care.
I am sorry you meet with so much discourage-
ment from your new parishioners. But, if you did
not expect it, you were too sanguine, and did not
sufficiently consider the state of that parish. It
was, I suppose, like Solomon's field of the slothful,
all overgrown with thorns and nettles, the fences
broken down, or out of repair, and all the marks of
negligence, and its bad consequences, appearing in
it. Were you to take a farm in that condition,
you would not expect to see it become fruitful and
beautiful all at once, or with the utmost pains you
could take in a few months, or even years. But
the minds of sinners are more untractable than a
neglected farm. The weeds of sin are so many,
and have taken such deep root, that it is not easy
to eradicate them, much less to destroy the seeds.
It is hard to " break up the fallow ground" (') of
hearts, which has been long uncultivated. But the
hand of the diligent will in time do great things,
and the blessing of the Lord, which will attend it,
(if his diligence extends to prayer, as well as labour,)
can break through the greatest difficulties. You
will, no doubt, study some awful subjects, to awaken
(') Hosea, x. 12.
REV. JOB ORTON. 243
and convince obstinate sinners ; yet not dwell too
much upon these, but try to draw them at times
with the " cords of love," and the endearing, strik-
ing motives of a glorious gospel. When you hear
of any of them behaving ill, you will take an op-
portunity of talking privately to them. But then,
I think, it will be best not to enter too largely upon
their particular sins and faults, (else they will pro-
bably be displeased,) but represent to them in ge-
neral the evil of sin, the temporal, spiritual, and
eternal misery, which men are bringing upon them-
selves and their children by vicious courses ; and
put into their hands some little tract against the
vice which they are guilty of, or the whole or part
of Dr. Stonehouse's Admonitions against Swearing,
Sabbath-breaking, and Drunkenness. If you have
any serious, judicious Christians in either of your
parishes, who are acquainted with those persons
who give you so much concern, endeavour to pre-
vail upon them to talk a little seriously to them at
proper times : for in many cases, a hint of advice
given by one of the laity hath more effect, and is
better received than when it comes from a clergy-
man ; as they will think the latter is only acting
ex officio, and that his exhortation doth not so much
proceed from a real concern for their reformation
and happiness. You will, I doubt not, consider
that your case is the very case, in some degree, of
every faithful minister of Jesus Christ. It was
the case of the holy apostles, (') and was the case
of their Lord and ours himself. And, though it
(>) 2 Cor. xii. 20, 21.
R 2
244 REV. JOB ORTON.
shows a right disposition, when a minister's heart is
grieved and humbled in such circumstances, yet he
should not be discouraged, but proceed with so
much the more vigour in his work, comforting
himself with this thought, that God may at length
awaken the most careless, and humble the most ob-
stinate sinners ; or that something we say to them
may stick by them, and produce some good effect
hereafter, perhaps when we are removed to another
station or another world ; that others receive benefit
by our labours, that all are not disobedient to the
word and unfruitful under our ministry ; and that
we shall be a sweet savour to God, accepted and
approved of him, " in them that perish, as well as
in them that are saved ;"(^) and that God will re-
ward his ministers in proportion to their pains and
diligence, and not their success. In the mean time,
such events are of use to ministers themselves, to
humble them, makethemmore watchful and zealous,
and more earnest in prayer for all-conquering grace.
I think I have now paid you in your own coin,
and filled my paper to the utmost. If any thing be
acceptable or useful to you in its contents, I shall
be glad. I am thankful for your prayers, which
are mutual. Think of me, as laid aside from pub-
lic work, and almost useless ; and learn from it to
work while it is day, before disability comes, or the
night when no man can work. And may God work
eflfectually in you, with you, and by you !
T am your sincere and aflfectionate friend.
Job Orton.
(') 2 Cor.ii. 15.
REV. JOB ORTON. 245
LETTER CCCLXXVIII.
Rev. Job Orton to the Rev. Thojias Stedmax. Various
useful hints.
Dear Sir, April 24, 1774.
I have long been so very weak and low, that I
have had neither strength nor spirits to write any
thing, but what was absolutely necessary. I bless
God I am at present a little recruited. My spirits
have been better, but my strength is still very small,
and I am fearful of applying to any business, or
even sitting down to write, lest it should throw me
back again into weakness and nervous complaints.
However, I must venture to send you a few lines,
the confusion and interruption with which they are
written may not make them less acceptable to you.
JNIy spirits have been greatly depressed, and a con-
stant painful sensation in every nerve and fibre
hath wasted my flesh, and filled my mind with
sensations exquisitely more painful than those of
the body. I thank God, I have this last week been
more comfortable, have got some refreshing sleep,
and am more easy and cheerful ; though I still
find myself very weak, and unfit for any active ser-
vice, much less for any thing like study. I desire
to be some way or other serving and glorifying
God ; but how this can be done in such circum-
stances as mine, at least by me, it is not ea^y to
say. But Providence hath wise and gracious ends
to answer by our afflictions, even those which in-
246 REV. JOB ORTON.
capacitate us for tliose services to which we are
strongly inclined, and for which we have some pro-
per qualifications. We are often, and indeed al-
most always, at a loss, when we set ourselves to
judge of the reasons of the divine conduct. Our
duty is submission ; but that is not easy to be
practised, nor can it be maintained, as it ought to
be, without a supply of the Spirit of Jesus Christ,
which I wish may be more abundantly shed abroad
into our hearts. You need it very much in your
ministerial capacity ; and, considering that station
in which Providence hath fixed you, to quicken you
to the duties of it, and to reconcile you to its in-
conveniences and disagreeable circumstances ;
which I should think would be easily borne by a
good man, who hath health and spirits, and forms
a just estimate of the worth of souls, the great bu-
siness of life, and the duties of the ministerial
office.
I wish Dr. Stonehouse's insertions in the news-
papers, from my letters, may be of service to their
readers. We do not know what good we do. A
young physician of considerable reputation and
fortune (Dr. Bostock) died lately at Liverpool of a
violent fever. A little before his death, he told the
minister who attended him, and who is a friend of
mine, that he had received great and lasting benefit
in his religious interests, by reading some letters
of mine to my nephew, when they were fellow pupils
together at the academy. I had no idea, that he or
REV. JOB ORTON. 247
any one else, had seen such letters. But I am
thankful he did, since they were attended with
such a happy effect.
I am truly concerned, that you have under your
pastoral care any flagrantly disobedient to the laws
of Christ. But, what minister hath not such under
his care P There was a traitor in Christ's family.
Young ministers are apt to set out with expecta-
tions raised too high, and expect more encourage-
ment and success than they are ever likely to find.
" Old Adam will be too hard for young Melancthon,"
as that venerable reformer complained, after he had
been some time a preacher, and had great expecta-
tion from his zealous ministry.
I hope you will have some very comfortable and
improving walks with the doctor and his family,
during his residence at Cheverel; which you must
set against many uncomfortable and dreary ones in
the winter. I wish the doctor would ride on horse-
back every dry day, as I do. Recipe cahallum, is
his best prescription. Surely he might meet with
some gentle, easy horse, no matter how ill-shaped
and ugly, that might carry him safely about the
fields of Cheverel. I remember an aged gouty mi-
nister who could not walk ; and having a large
garden, he used to ride often round it in a day
upon an old steady horse, who used to count his
rounds for him; and then, when he had completed
them, would stop and proceed no further, though
the rider tried every persuasive and pungent argu-
ment to excite him. I heartily wish and pray for
his health and continued usefulness. Mr. B.
"248 REV. JOB ORTON.
is settled at Cam, within a mile of Dursley, in
Gloucestershire ; which is, I imagine, about thirty
miles from you. You must contrive to meet at
some place equidistant ; and he says, he shall be
very glad to see you.
Continue your good wishes and prayers for me:
I want more clearness and satisfaction as to the
great concern. My prayers are so broken, and at-
tended with so much distraction and impertinence,
that they are uncomfortable to myself, and can
hardly be acceptable, even with all the gracious
allowance of the gospel. But I do not love to
trouble my friends with my complaints, any further
than to desire and direct their petitions.
Yours affectionately.
Job Orton.
LETTER CCCLXXIX.
Rev. Job Orton to Rev. Thomas Stedman. Excuses
for not writing punctually. A troublesome choir at church.
A valuable cx)nsolation hi age. Useful hints.
Dear Sir, Jan. 14, 1775.
At this season of the year, it is usual for all wise
and prudent people to settle their accounts, to pay
their debts, and to leave none outstanding. But it
is the unhappy case of some, who bear an honest
mind, and are willing to be out of debt, not to be able
to be so. This is at present, and is often, my own
case, with regard to my epistolary correspondents.
REV. JOB ORTON. 249
Not for want of an honest mind, or a real affection to
my friends, but through inability. I have long been
a bankrupt in my health, and strength, and spi-
rits, and must throw myself upon the compassion
and kindness of my friends, to bear with me, and
excuse me; and I hope they are, and will be will-
ing, to accept of a composition, and to take a part
of what I owe to their friendship in lieu of the
whole. I have no reason to suppose, that you in
particular will be an unmerciful creditor, and
therefore must beg your acceptance of a small com-
position for two or three very friendly letters, for
which I am indebted to you. It is so painful and
injurious to me in general to write, and there are
so few intervals, in which I can muster up a little
strength and a few spirits to write to my friends,
that I need great candour and indulgence from
them. Nor is it so easy on other accounts to me
to write as it was formerly : in all respects, non
sum qualis eram. But I hope all my friends are
endeavouring to resemble our common Father
and Friend, who accepts according to what a man
hath, and not according to what hath not; who
considers our frame, and makes gracious allow-
ances for our infirmities.
I am sorry for the trouble and vexation you
have had, and are likely to have, with your ecceri'
trie singers. They are in general conceited, trou-
blesome fellows, and have no more religion than
an organ or a fiddle. And I wish the doctor, when
he comes to you, may be able to bring them to
250 REV. JOB ORTON.
order. But steadiness, and not yielding to them,
is the only way to humble them.
Tu ne cede malis ; sed contra audentior ito. I
would propose in the mean time, that you talk
calmly and seriously to them separately, and en-
deavour to give them better notions than they
have, of the nature and design of psalmody, and
particularly urge upon their consciences a reve-
rence for the presence of God; and how affronting
it must be to him to have the church turned into
a theatre, and divine worship into v^. farce. I know
nothing more likely to shame and reform them.
I can read very little these short dark days, but
I sometimes entertain myself wdth some of my
good old authors.
. I am thankful that I was led in early life
to read so much j^ractical divinity, and the lives
and histories of good men j as I can remember what
I then read, better than what I read yesterday ;
which is the case with most old people, especially
if they have bodily diseases added to the natural
decays of age. I have fewer and shorter intervals
of what may be called ease than usual, and must ex-
pect them to grow shorter. I am a wonder to my-
self, that I have lived to see the beginning of another
year. I cannot expect to see the end of it. May I
employ the poor remains of life as well as possible I
I wish my infirmities may suggest hints of caution
to my younger brethren and friends, to apply
diligently to their Master's work, to be frugal of
REV. JOB ORTON. 251
their time; and frugal of their money ^^^ age and
prior infirmities may render them incapable of
doing good, or .filling up stations in which they
might be comfortably supported. And the state
of the world at present is such, that nothing can be
more disagreeable and painful, than to be in cir-
cumstances of necessity and dependence, when
every comfortable circumstance and accommoda-
tion is so desirable to lighten the burdens of life.
Loss of time, and neglect of opportunities of use-
fulness, often oppress my spirits. Spending too
much time about trifling books and studies, the
contents and subjects of which I could wish en-
tirely to have blotted from my memory ^ is a very
painful circumstance. I mention what gives me
uneasiness, that you may now avoid the like, and
employ your health and money, your time and
abilities, so as to leave no room for painful reflec-
tions hereafter. May God prolong your life, as
much as his glory, and your own usefulness and
comfort may render desirable ; and may the close
of it have no bitter remorse, no uneasy sensations
attending it ! Continue your prayers for me, and
believe me to be, dear sir.
Your sincere and affectionate friend,
and faithful servant.
Job. Orton.
2o2 REV. JOB ORTON.
LETTER CCCLXXX.
Rev. Job Orton to Rev. Tho^ias Stedman. What
familiar letters ought to be. On what day Sermons should
not be made, 6^c. 6^c.
Deak Sir, January, 1779.
Being confined to-day by great rain, I know not
how to employ my time better than in writing a
letter to you; though whether I shall be able to
finish it to-day in time for the post I know not :
however, I will do something towards it.
I am always glad to receive chit-chat letters, as
they seem to come from the heart. Mr. Pope is I
think right, who somewhere says, " The letters of
friends are not worse for being fit for none else
to read. The effusion of a moment ought to be
the characteristic of all familiar writing. It is a
strange recommendation, but a true one." In this
view, I had rather write twenty letters to a friend
with whom I can be free, than one to a person every
way as good and valuable, and with whom I can
be equally free, who is at the same time formal
and accurate himself, and expects the letters of his
correspondents to be so too. I do not love to
write letters where compliments and apologies are
necessary. Every thing that comes directly from
the heart, and seems like conversation, is most
agreeable to me. And, indeed, what is writing
letters but a kind of conversation ? and there-
fore ought to be easy, free and unreserved. Per-
REV. JOB ORTON. 253
haps I am selfish in this sentiment, as I can sel-
dom write more than a few lines at a time without
being- tired and in pain, and forced to lie down
upon my couch; so that method and order must
be neglected by me ; but these I think should be
easily excused in letters, especially where the
■writer's heart and his esteem for his correspondent
appear at first view, without any labour or study.
I will excuse your having a sermon to write on
the Saturday, because the occasion of it was ur-
gent and necessary ; else I shall blame you, if
ever you have a sermon to make on a Saturday.
Dr. Donne (as it is observed in his life) always
chose his text, for the next Lord's-day, on the pre-
ceding Sunday evening, when he had finished the
duty of that day. This was my method. I always
contrived to have Saturday, as a kind of leisure
day, to attend at the infirmary at Shrewsbury, or to
do other business, which (being market-day) it oc-
casioned ; and that I might, by exercise and relaxa-
tion, get myself into better spirits for the labours of
the Sabbath : only on a Saturday evening, I care-
fully reviewed my sermon, and committed the most
striking parts of it, especially in the application,
to memory. And I always spent my Saturday
evenings at home, that I might prepare myself the
better for the business of the following day.
T heartily wish you the return of many happy
hirth-days ; and that each of them may aflford you
increasing pleasure in your own improvement, and
the advancement of religion by your ministry. I
have no doubt but you spent the day religiously;
254 REV. JOB ORTON.
in thankfully acknovvledin^ the goodness and mer-
cy of God to you; in acts of humiliation for the
vanity of childhood and youth ; and in forming
good resolutions for greater seriousness, diligence,
and activity, as a Christian and minister. May
God hear your prayers, accept your praises, and
multiply his blessings upon you I
I am now reading Michaelis's " Introductory
Lectures to the sacred Books of the New Testa-
ment," a small octavo volume, jDrice three shillings.
It is a good concise account of critics, commen-
tators, and their sentiments on the genuineness
authority, and insj^iration of the books of the New
Testament. It will refresh your memory with
many things on these subjects; but he doth not
enter deeply into the controversies of them.
I have lately bought a Scotch edition of Flavel's
works, in eight volumes octavo. The folio edition
I had before ; but this I can read as I lie in my
couch, or as I sit in my chair, smoking my even-
ing's pipe. I have read more of Flavel, since I
was able to read at all, than any other writter;
and though he is by no means judicious, yet there
is an amazing tenderness, and soft pathos in his
style and manner; and I am always pleased with
his plainness, simplicity, great seriousness and en-
tertaining stories.
I am concerned that Mr. * * * doth not apply
more diligently to his studies ; and it really grieves
me to see young divines, who have good natural
abilities, and have enjoyed considerable advan-
tages in their education, contented to glimmer ;
REV. JOB ORTON. 255
when, with more application, they might be burn-
ing and shining lights in the church, and the dis-
tinguished ornaments of Christianity and their
profession. I sometimes talk freely to my youno-er
brethren on such topics; but in this age, young-
men do not, in general, choose to attend to the
most friendly advice of their seniors; though de-
livered, not only tenderly, but respectfully. They
are wiser, and have better ideas of divinity, espe-
cially, than those who have grown grey in study
and in the ministry.
I think I have now written every thing I had to
say to you — which has been done at many sittings —
and I considered myself as talking with you.
But this wet day makes me uncomfortable, and
my letter is as dull as the day; yet fair or foul,
bright or dull, I am,
Your faithful and affectionate,
Job Orton.
P. S. Look over the next letter with which you
favour me ; for the last was written in haste, and
there were some words in it which T could not
read. Let it be a rule with you, always to read
over a letter before you seal it, correct whatever
is wrong, make proper stops, that your corres-
pondents may be at no loss to understand your
meaning at once. This is one of Lord Chester-
field's advices to his Son ; and if he had given him
no worse, it would have been well.
256 REV. DR. STONEHOLSE.
LETTER CCCLXXXr.
Rev. Dr. Storehouse to Rev. Thomas Stedman. An-
tidotes to the love of popularity. A worthy rector. A con-
tented old age. Planner of Hervey as a preacher.
Dear Sir, March 17, 1772.
I am indebted to you for two letters, which I will
answer (according to my usual way) paragraph by
paragraph, and then nothing is omitttd.
You say popularity is a great snare. I have
found it so; especially the two or three first years
after I commenced preacher. I can now almost
say in reality, what Pope only affected to say,
" Now sick alike of envy and applause."
*' Blest rules of cool prudential age ! "
says Dr. Cotton. I have now many thoughts in the
pulpit to damp ambition, and the thirst of popu-
lar applause. I am failing in my memory, my
voice is tremulous, my once animated eye, now
waters, on the least attempt to strike by my look,
my spirits flag, &c. I have also seen such changes
in my hearers. How many of my admirers have
forsaken me ! How often have my most unde-
served productions been extolled, and my most
judicious performances passed unnoticed! How
few are judges! How little good has been done
by those discourses I have taken so much pains
with, and from which I promised myself so much !
REV. DR. STONEHOUSE. 257
I once went into the pulpit sanguine with hope : I
}wiv go up as an act of duty in the sight of God,
and because my friends advise me to preach. You
must keep a tight rein over yourself, and consider
ministers are only instruments, and the blessing is
God's. A proper emulation is laudable. Popu-
larity becomes a snare, when we grow proud, con-
ceited, and behave accordingly, attributing all to
self, unmindful of the grace and blessing of God ;
and regarding our own reputation only, without
being desirous of his glory, and the salvation of
our fellow-creatures. I daily pray for God's grace
to strengthen and succeed your endeavours, and it
is my greatest pleasure to hear of your success.
I bless God from my heart, that your ministry is
so well attended. This will be an encouragement
to you ; and I tell you before I come to Cheverei,
I shall preach but little while I am there, as my
sermons in general are not calculated for that peo-
ple. They are dissatisfactory to myself; and I
cannot at my time of life be composing afresh in a
different way. Doing good should be the great
end of preaching ; and your discourses are much
better calculated for that purpose in that place,
than mine are. My sermons are calculated for
great towns, yours for country villages and plain
people. But even here I erase every hard word,
and if such escape me I alter them. My great
end in coming to Cheverei this year, will be,
not to preach myself much, but to confirm and
strengthen your preaching; to converse with the
VOL. III. s
258 REV. DR. STONEHOUSE.
people, encouraging some, and admonishing others
I am glad to hear so good an account of * * * ;
but till people pray from principle, there can be
no work of grace begun in them.
I do not care who has the living of * * *, so I
have it not. I have received a letter from Lord
* * *, of which I send you a copy verbatim; by
which you will see, he could have procured it for
me. Never, no never, will I undertake the care of
so large a parish, in so populous a city. You see
the cork-cutter at Salisbury says, on hearing me at
the cathedral there, " I am not the man I was."
Nor am I. My strength and voice fail me, and
my infirmities increase daily. I have been very
happy here for nine years ; and have no fatipie
at a time of life when I require rest. Happy in my
family, and nothing to do, but to preach once or
twice a week, and to pray God to prepare me for
bidding a final adieu to the world : whereas, had
I gone to * * * I should have been rushing into
the world afresh, and on a very uncompromising
stage of action. Me sylva, cavusque, tutus ab in-
sidiis, &c.
As to your enquiry concerning Mr. Hervey's
manner of preaching, I recollect that he preached
without notes ; excepting, that he had before him
a small morsel of paper, on which were written in
short hand, the general heads and particulars of
his sermon; which sometimes he looked at and
sometimes not. He was very regular in his plans ;
REV. DR. STONEHOUSE. 259
nor was he very long- : from thirty to forty minutes
was his usual time, rarely longer.
Yours sincerely,
J. S.
LETTER CCCLXXXII.
Rev. Dr. STONEHousEto Rev. Thomas Stedman.— Let-
ter of counsel from a rector to his curate.
Dear Sir, August 27, 1772.
I never overlook your margins, either at the top or
bottom of your letters. But why dont you use a
larger sized paper ?
I am heartily glad to hear that your audiences
keep up ; and still more so, that you go from house
to house, and meet with much respect and affection.
Indeed, Mr. * * *, who was here lately, told me
you were much beloved by all the people. Let this
counterbalance that thorn in your flesh * * *. No-
thing like visiting the 'parishioners with a view to
tlieir religious concerns, where such visits are accep-
table. — You did well in lending Mrs, * * * Orton
" On Eternity." If she objects to what you say in
order to convince her of the corruption of her na-
ture, and errors of her past life, refer her to pas-
sages in the liturgy and the Scriptures, and endea-
vour to get her to pray, that she may have her eyes
opened to see the evil and danger of sin. Such
passages from the liturgy, as " there is no health in
s 2
260 llEV. DR. STONEHOUSE.
US. Have mercy upon us miserable offenders ! O
God the Father of heaven, have mercy upon us mi-
serable sinners !" And from the Scriptures — "En-
ter not into judsijment with thy servant, O Lord ;
for in thy sight shall no man living be justified.
Create in me a clean heart, O God ; and renew a
right spirit within me." She cannot say these are
your words ; and comment on such passages. Show
her the extent and spirituality of the divine com-
mands, according to Christ's own comment in the
fifth chapter of Matthew. But I liardly expect you
will do her any good. Old trees will not bend ;
young twigs may be formed to your purposes.
As to the affair you speak of — my well-weigh-
ed advice is, to take no notice of such affronts.
Leave that to others. Remember, and imitate Dean
Tucker's conduct at a violent election at B .
His parish told him if he voted against the vestry,
they would not collect him a shilling ; his ansiver
was noble, and spoken very calmly, — " Gentlemen,
do whatever is right in your own eyes. I shall cer-
tainly vote for Lord C ., consequently against
you. And I shall certainly do my duty to you, as
your minister, whether you collect for me or not.
If you can answer that in your own consciences, I
am satisfied. Sure I am, my conscience shall never
reproach me for my conduct towards yon, and I
should be very sorry (for your own sakes) that
yours should ever reproach you for your conduct
towards me." — This manly, honest, and disinter-
ested behaviour so aived and overcame them, that
his collection never lessened. Go on doing your
REV. DR. STONEHOUSE. 261
duty as you have begun, and leave the rest to pro-
vidence. " When a man's ways please the Lord,
he often makes (unexpectedly makes) even his ene-
mies to be at peace with him." (') If you appear
hurt, * * * triumphs. If you court his favour, he
grows more insolent. Be barely civil : seem to know
nothing : and keep yourself to yourself.
The following is a short prayer I sometimes make
use of. — " Let us ever be prepared to bear any dis-
appointments we may meet with in our expecta-
tions and endeavours, with such a temper, as be-
cometh those who believe in Thee, and who regard
thy hand in all things ; submitting without mur-
muring to thy holy will; and accounting what
thou art pleased to appoint the fittest and best for
us. And while we make it our study to do our
duty with sincerity and diligence, let us ever with
peaceful minds, and full resignation, leave all is-
sues and events to thy disposal." Meditate on the
text you mention. "Be satisfied from yourself." (-)
God blesses the use of six means, namely, prayer,
reading the Scriptures, meditation, examination,
spiritual conversation, and public worship. You
know not what good you may do even after you are
dead, by your preaching and conversation. I have
reaped benefit this year from things, which Dr.
Doddridge said to me thirty years ago; which have
lately come to my mind with the strongest convic-
tion of their propriety and usefulness. No man
(1) Prov. xvi. 7. (^) Prov. xiv. 14.
262 REV. DR. STONEHOUSE.
knows which of his sermons will, or will not do
good. It is his business to preach ; preaching being
a divine ordinance. What the world says or thinks,
is (and ought to be in a minister's esteem) of no
consequence. He is to go on doing his duty.
I know such enthusiasts as * * * set prudence
at defiance, calling it (as one of them has done)
'' a rascally virtue." No matter for that. A Chris-
tian minister without it, ill deserves the name of a
Christian minister; and is a bad imitator of his
blessed Master, whose every word was 'prudent.
See all his answers to the ensnaring questions of
his enemies. I am an open man ; I never hint a
fault, or hesitate a dislike, but come to the point
openly as a true friend. If a man says painful and
disagreeable things to you, depend on it he is your
friend; else he would prophesy smooth things, and
not care what became of you
If you have any remaining doubts, consult your
" Jidus Achates^' Mr. Orton, on the business, who
is a wise man, and your steady friend. — But enough
of this.
Archbishop Tillotson was an excellent man. He
gave away the whole of his revenue (exclusive of
his necessary expenses) in charity, and died so
poor, as to leave his widow only the profits arising
from the sale of his sermons to subsist on ; in which
he was blameable. She should have been provided
for by the Archbishop
I want to be in the Cheverel nest. You have too
little company : ive too much. Such is this life !
the happy mediocrity is scarcely any where, or in
WILLIAM COWPER, ESQ. 263
any thing to be found. Remember us kindly to
your sister. I chide you sometimes ; but it is in
love. " Ubi multa nitent," &c. I commend you
both to the blessing, guidance, and protection of
the Almighty, and
I am,
Your's sincerely,
J. S.
LETTER CCCLXXXIII.
William Cowper, Esa. to the Rev. John Newton.
Beautifiil remarks on pulpit style. Simplicity distinguished
from vulgarity.
Mays, 1783.
You may suppose that I did not hear Mr. * * *
preach, but I heard of him. How different is that
plainness of speech, which a spiritual theme re-
quires, from that vulgar dialect which this gentle-
man has mistaken for it ! Affectation of every sort
is odious, especially in a minister, and more espe-
cially an affectation that betrays him into expres-
sions fit only for the mouths of the illiterate. Truth
indeed needs no ornament, neither does a beautiful
person ; but to clothe it therefore in rags, when a
decent habit was at hand, would be esteemed pre-
posterous and absurd. The best proportioned
figure may be made offensive by beggary and filth ;
and even truths, which came down from heaven.
264 WILLIAM COWPER, ESQ.
though they cannot forego their nature, may be
disguised and disgraced by unsuitable language.
It is strange that a pupil of yours should blunder
thus. You may be consoled, however, by reflect-
ing, that he could not have erred so grossly, if he
had not totally and wilfully departed both from
your instruction and example. Were I to describe
your style in two words, I should call it plain and
neat, simplicem munditiis, and I do not know how
I could give it juster praise, or pay it a greater com-
pliment. He that speaks to be understood by a
congregation of rustics, and yet in terms that
would not offend academical ears, has found the
happy medium. This is certainly practicable to
men of taste and judgment, and the practice of a
^Gsv proves it. Hactenus de Concionando,
We are truly glad to hear that Miss C is
better, and heartily wish you more promising ac-
counts from Scotland. Debemur morti nos nostraque.
We all acknowledge the debt, but are seldom
pleased when those we love are required to pay it.
The demand will find you prepared for it.
Yours, my dear friend,
W.C.
WILLIAM COWPER, ESQ. 265
LETTER CCCLXXXIV.
William Cowper, Esa. to Rev. John Newton. " No
man scolded out of his sins." Tenderness necessary in a mi-
nister.
My dear Friend, June J 7, 1 783.
Your letter reached Mr. S while Mr.
was with him : whether it wrought any change in
his opinion of that gentleman as a preacher, I
know not, but for my own parti give you full cre-
dit for the soundness and rectitude of yours. No
man was ever scolded out of his sins. The heart,
corrupt as it is, and because it is so, grows angry
if it be not treated with some management and
good manners, and scolds again. A surly mastiff
will bear, perhaps, to be stroked, though he will
growl even under that operation, but if you touch
him roughly, he will bite. There is no grace that
the spirit of self can counterfeit with more success
than a religious zeal. A man thinks he is fighting
for Christ, and he is fighting for his own notions.
He thinks that he is skilfully searching the hearts
of others, when he is only gratifying the malignity
of his own, and charitably supposes his hearers
destitute of all grace, that he may shine the more
in his own eyes by comparison. When he has
performed this notable task, he wonders that they .
are not converted : '' he has given it them soundly,
and if they do not tremble, and confess that God is
in him of a truth, he gives them up as reprobate.
266 REV. CLAUDIUS BUCHANAN.
incorric^ible, and lost for ever." But a man that
loves me, if he sees me in an error, will pity me,
and endeavour calmly to convince me of it, and
persuade me to forsake it. If he has great and good
news to tell me, he will not do it angrily, and in
much heat and discomposure of spirit. It is not,
therefore, easy to conceive on what ground a mi-
nister can justify a conduct which only proves that
he does not understand his errand. The absurdity
of it would certainly strike him, if he were not
himself deluded.
A people will always love a minister, if a mi-
nister seems to love his people. The old maxim,
Simile agit in simile, is in no case more exactly ve-
rified : therefore you were beloved at Olney, and if
you preached to the Chicksaws, and Chachtaws,
would be equally beloved by them.
W. C.
LETTER CCCLXXXV.
Rev. Claudius Buchanan to the Rev. Dr. Browne.
My dear Str, Calcutta, Nov. 29, 1801.
I received your letter last night. I envy much the
zealous affection which animates your mind, and
would gladly go up to Chandernagore also, to ob-
tain the same. Old Mr. Newton when in the coun-
try used to think that London was Sardis ; but
when he came up to town, he found there a great
REV. CLAUDIUS BUCHANAN. 267
assembly -walking in white ; and so he joined them.
I have thought more seriously in Calcutta than ever
I did at Barrackpore. But what I have been (at
any period of my life) is so little like what I would
wish to be, that I cannot contemplate it without
remorse. I do not know that I ever had what
Christians call " zeal." I recollect that I expected
it would grow, when I entered the ministry ; but I
had scarcely entered the ministry, and preached a
few times, when I was sent to this country.
I never knew, as you do, what it was to preach
profitably and zealously for a season. That is a
work I have to begin ; and how to begin it I know
not. I need an unction from on high, which I
anxiously look for ; and yet in looking for this, I
look for that which I never knew, as most have
known it.
One thing urges me sometimes to press forward
with hope ; and that is, that all I hear, and all I
say appears to me so very unlike what it ought to
be, that I imagine something better might be at-
tempted. And yet were the Spirit indeed to de-
scend, we cannot expect that God, who worketh by
natural means, should suddenly add the eloquent
mouth, and new powers of memory and under-
standing. The holy skill of preaching appears to
be the fruit of long experience and converse among
God's people. And in Calcutta, as in every other
place, the able minister of the New Testament, can
only be made, by nightly and wakeful meditation,
patient study, and prayer producing self-denial.
It appears to me that it was never intended that
268 REV. CLAUDIUS BUCHANAN.
the gospel should flourish in the heart and mouth
of any minister, who did not make it the " one
thing," the sole point of heartfelt recurrence. But
when it is made so, I can easily conceive how the
tender plant grows a great tree with spreading
branches and refreshing fruit. Then, no doubt,
even a mind naturally barren bears exuberant
ideas, and is constantly forming lively images;
and, though the mouth be rude in speech, the full
heart becomes vocal, and utters the word " in sea-
son.*
Whether either of us will be able thus to make
the gospel the " one thing," time will show. " He
that warreth," ought not to " entangle himself with
the affairs of this life." But do we tvar P Time
enough for the soldier to disencumber himself when
he begins to fight. It is easy to throw off a college;
but it is very difficult to take up the church. But
when the church spirit appears, it will soon con-
quer the college.
The grand question is, ought not means to be
used to mature that spirit which we desire ? We
read " that a good soldier of Jesus Christ entang-
leth himself not with the affairs of this life, that he
may please him who hath chosen him to be a sol-
dier ; or, as Guyse explains it, " he must not follow
any civil calling", unprofitable reading, or unneces-
sary relaxation to entangle his thoughts, and swal-
low up his time;" superintending a college is a
civil calling. Latin and Greek is unprofitable
reading, and lying in bed after five in the morning
is unnecessary relaxation ; " but his whole time,
REV. CLAUDIUS BUCHANAN. 269
words, thoughts, and actions must be employed,
like a soldier's, on his calling, that he may please
Him who hath chosen and authorized him to
fight."
How far, in what manner and in what particulars,
St. Paul would obey the spirit of this passage, were
he in your situation or mine, I really cannot tell.
Were he here, he would be warring. After we have
warred for some time, we also shall know. " O
that I knew the will of God in this matter," saith
Augustine : " but I am not worthy to know his
will. Tills ignorance is the fruit of my back-
sliding."
One thing seems probable, that no sudden suc-
cess will appear from any sudden change of our
style of address, or manner of preaching. It
arises usually from the impression of private cha-
racter and manner of life. Private character alone
will confirm the public sermon. The holy life of
the minister is the good alterative among men.
As to myself, it is my only desire to be of some
service to the church of Christ before I die ; and I
would gladly seize any means, by change of situa-
tion or otherwise, which would enable me to do so.
As to this world, there is no object (if I know my
own heart at all) which I have in view; neither of
family, of fortune, of situation, of leaving this
country, or continuing in it. I have chiefly to
complain of a languid and heartless constitution,
both in body and mind, which makes me to bear
easily with all things, and to have little pleasure in
any thing. This loss of energy and life has been
270 REV. CLAUDIUS BUCHANAN.
occasioned partly by a continued course of ill
health, partly by the untoward circumstances in
my situation since I arrived in the country, but
chiefly by the natural contagion of unchristian
manners.
I am, however, at this time more independent of
society I dislike, than at any former period since
my arrival in India ; and I hope to be yet more so.
Whether by resigning college appointments, se-
cluding myself from the world, and preaching
twice a week, I should be of more service than by
maintaining a public situation, is a question I can-
not answer. What may be impossible and impro-
per now, may be possible and proper hereafter.
However, the chief consideration at present is
the state of the heart. How is the soul with God ?
I endeavour, by prayer, to restore it daily, relying
(though feebly) on the aid of the Mediator, won-
dering sometimes that I am not worse, oppressed
in spirit at a review of the past, and hoping for
better days.
I shall ever be ready to accede to any plan you
can suggest, for the furtherance of our ministry.
You say you " long to launch out into the fulness
of Christ." So do I. But these words are too
apostolic for me at present. In order to launch
forth like * * *^ I should need not only a new effu-
sion of the Holy Spirit, but those natural abilities
which generally accompany such an effusion, in
order to make it useful. Circumstances seem to
admonish me, that the " still small voice," and not
" the rushing mighty wind," is my province in the
ALEXANDER KNOX, ESQ. 271
gospel. What another school than Calcutta would
have produced, I know not. But I shall be blessed
if grace be given unto me to do what good I can,
consistently and steadily in my various situations.
Unhappily, collegiate avocations usurp much of
my time. But let us beware of repining at the
necessity of spending time in this way, till we be-
come confident, that were all our time at our own
disposal, we should spend it in a better.
I earnestly pray that we may both be rightly di-
rected in our labours in this vineyard ; that we may
see some fruit in others, and enjoy the comfort our-
selves of faithful ministers of the gospel. I think
better days are at hand. In this hope,
I remain, my dear Sir,
Very affectionately yours,
C. Buchanan.
LETTER CCCLXXXVI.
Alexander Knox, Esq. to the Rev. John Jebb, (after-
wards Bishop of Limerick.) Some admirable observations in
reply to his correspondent's question, " What Christian
preaching should be ?"
My dear Mr. Jebb, Shrewsbury, Jan. 25, 1801.
I thank you much for your last letter : I sat down
to answer it several days ago ; but I began, on a
larger scale, than I was able to accomplish : I must,
therefore, be content to take in my sails ; not, as is
272 ALEXANDER" KNOX, ESQ.
customary, because there is too much wind, — but,
because there is not enough to fill them.
. . . . True religion is happily contagious :
and, I am sure, it owed its rapid progress, in the
early ages of the church, infinitely more to the
divine infection, (if I may use such an expression,)
that attended the spirit of the apostles, than to the
demonstrative evidence of their miracles. I be-
lieve there never yet was a really good man, I
mean, a zealous, decided Christian, whose lively
expression of his own feelings did not, more or
less, reach the hearts of those who heard him.
And this, in some degree, answers your ques-
tion, " What Christian preaching should be?" At
least, it points out an indispensable pre-requisite :
Christian preaching can arise, only, from a Chris-
tian mind and heart. This is the great want in the
preaching of to-day : there is no spirit in it. It is
the result of a kind of intellectual pumping; there
is no gushing from the spring. Our Saviour, speak-
ing to the woman of Samaria, of the happiness
which his religion w ould bring into the bosoms of
those who cordially embraced it, elegantly and ex-
pressively represents it, by a well of water in the
breast, ''springing up into everlasting life." Where
this is in a minister, it will spring out, as well as
spring up : and it will be felt to be living water
from the pleasure and refreshment which it con-
veys, almost even to minds hitherto unaccustomed
to such communications.
What Horace says, is quite in point : —
Non satis est pulchra esse poemata, dulcia sunto :
ALEXANDER KNOX, ESQ. 273
Et, quocunque volunt animum auditoris agunto.
Ut ridentibus arrident, ita flentibus adsunt
Humani vultus. Si vis me flere, dolendum est
Primum ipsi tibi ; tunc tua me infortunia Ijedent :
the Pulchra is all that a man who does not himself
feel can attain to: the Dulcia is the offspring of
an impressed and interested heart. But, if such
effects were to be produced by the mere feeling ex-
hibition of human distress, what may not be looked
for from divine truths ? — interesting to the hearer,
no less than to the speaker ; and interesting, beyond
all that can be conceived, to every natural senti-
ment of man, — when done justice to, in the same
way that Horace here demands for the drama.
A witty poet has well said, —
The specious sermons of a worldly man,
Are little more than flashes in the pan :
The mere haranguing upon what men call
Morality, is powder without ball :
But he, who preaches with a Christian grace,
Fires at our vices, and the shot takes place.
But you also ask, *' what do I conceive to be the
mean, between cold morality, and wild enthu-
siasm ?" To this, I answer, that the mean between
all extremes is Christianity, as given in the New
Testament. An attention to the exhibition of
Christ's religion, as taught, by himself; as exem-
plified in the Acts of the Apostles ; and as ex-
panded and ramified in the Epistles, particularly
of Saint Paul, — is the best and only preservative
against coldness, against fanaticism, and against
superstition. But, let me tell you, that this simple
VOL. III. T
274 ALEXANDER KNOX, ESQ.
direct view of Christianity, has very seldom been
taken. Most men, in all ages, have sat down to
the gospel, with a set of prejudices, which, like so
many inquisitors, have laid the Christian religion
on a bed like that of Procrustes ; and, as it suited
them, either mutilated it by violence, or extended
it by force.
I agree, however, with Mrs. Chapone, in her
ingenious essay on the subject, that coldness is a
far more dangerous extreme than overmuch heat.
The one may consist with real goodness ; nay, may
be the consequence of real goodness, commixing
with a perturbed imagination, or an ill-formed
judgment. But coldness can be resolved, only,
into an absolute want of feeling. Enthusiasm is
excess, but coldness is want of vitality. The en-
thusiast, in a moral view, is insane; which implies
the possibility of recovery, and, perhaps, a partial
or occasional recurrence of reason. The cold per-
son is like the idiot, where reason never shows it-
self, and where convalescence is desperate.
But, let it ever be remembered, that he who has
really found the mean between the two extremes,
will, and must be reckoned enthusiastic, by those
who are in the extreme of coldness. You can easily
conceive, that, when any one stands on a middle
point, between two others, who are, with respect to
him, strictly equidistant, he must, from the inevi-
table laws of perspective, appear to both, not to be
in the middle, but comparatively near the opposite
party. He therefore,
Auream quisquis mediocritatem
Diligit,
ALEXANDER KNOX, ESQ. 275
must make up his mind, to be censured on both
sides : by the enthusiast, as cold ; by those who are
really cold, as an enthusiast.
This, however, is a digression. I return to the
New Testament view of Christianity.
•Now this, I repeat, (for the reasons above given,)
is most surely to be sought in the New Testament
itself. And the representation given of Christi-
anity there, differs, in my mind, from that given,
in most pulpits, in very many, and very impor-
tant instances. I shall notice two instances parti-
cularly : —
I. Christianity is represented, in most pulpits,
rather as a scheme of external conduct, than as an
inward principle of moral happiness, and moral
rectitude.
In modern sermons you get a great many ad-^
monitions and directions, as to right conduct : but
what David asked for so earnestly is seldom touched
upon, — " Create in me a clean heart, O God ! and
renew a right spirit within me." Now, the New
Testament dwells on this, as its main object :
" Make the tree good," says Christ, " and its fruit
will also be good :" — " Except ye be converted,
and become as little children, you can in no wise
enter into the kingdom of heaven."
These expressions evidently imply, that, in order
to be Christians, persons must undergo a moral
change ; that Christianity is designed to make them
something which they are not by nature; and
that the alteration produced in the mind, the af-
fections, and the conduct, by a right and full ac-
T 2
276 ALEXANDER KNOX, ESQ.
quiescence in the gospel, is so radical, so striking,
and so efficacious, as to warrant the strongest ima-
gery, in order to do it justice, that language can
furnish.
" Except a man," says our Lord, " be born
again, he cannot see the kingdom of God." — •'* If
any man," says Saint Paul, " be in Christ, he is a
new creature : old things are passed away ; behold
all things are become new." — " If ye, then, be risen
with Christ, seek those things which are above : for
ye aredead, and yourlife is hid with Christ in God."
" Being justified by faith, we have peace with God,
by our Lord Jesus Christ ; for the love of God is
shed abroad in our hearts, by the Holy Ghost, which
is given unto us." And, to quote but one passage
more from Saint Paul, " They that are Christ's
have crucified the flesh, with the affections and de-
sires."
Now, what, I ask, do these expressions imply ?
After every fair allowance for figure and metaphor,
do they not convey a far deeper and more myste-
rious view of Christianity, than is commonly ad-
verted to ? Some divines, I know, endeavour to
explain these, and similar passages, as if they re-
ferred, rather to a relative and extrinsic, than to a
real and internal change ; as if they meant merely
proselytism from heathenism to Christianity, and
initiation into outward church privileges. But this
miserable mode of interpretation is flatly incon-
sistent with the whole tenor of the New Testament.
It is not heathenism, but moral evil, which is here
pointed out as the grand source of human misery :
ALEXANDER KNOX, ESQ. 277
and the aptitude of the gospel, to overcome and
extirpate this moral evil, is what is dwelt upon as
its great and leading excellence. These, therefore,
and all similar passages, must be understood in a
moral sense: and, when so understood, how deep
is their import ! To suppose that there is not a
strict appositeness in these figurative expressions,
would be to accuse the apostles, and Christ him-
self, of bombastic amplification : but, if they have
been thus applied, because no other ones were ade-
quate, to do justice to the subject, I say again,
what a view do they give of Christianity !
It may be said, that enthusiasts have abused
these expressions. True : but what then ? What
gift of God has not been abused ? And the richest
gifts most grossly ? Meanwhile, the Scriptures re-
main unadulterated ; and, abused as they may have
been, by perverse misrepresentation, on the one
side, or on the other, we have no right to go to any
other standard.
With these passages of Scripture, then, and many
similar ones, — nay, with the whole tenor of the
New Testament, in my view, I hesitate not to say,
that Christian preaching consists, first, in repre-
senting man to be, by nature, (I mean in his pre-
sent fallen state,) a weak, ignorant, sinful, and, of
course, miserable being ; as such, to be liable to
God's displeasure; and to be absolutely incapable
of enjoying any real happiness, either here or here-
after. The passages of Scripture which prove
this are innumerable : I shall give but a few. " You
bath he quickened who were dead in trespasses and
278 ALEXANDER KNOX, ESQ.
sins. The carnal mind is enmity against God. The
carnal man knoweth not the things of the Spirit of
God, neither can he know them; because they are
spiritually discerned. They that are in the flesh,
cannot please God. Having the understanding
darkened ; being alienated from the life of God."
Nor are we to suppose that these texts speak
only of the grossly wicked. -Saint Paul repeatedly
explains such statements to belong to all mankind,
until they are brought to repentance, and are in-
wardly, as well as outwardly, changed by divine
grace. And, in fact, our own experience confirms
the truth of this. For, if we look around us,
whom do we see either truly good or truly happy ?
Some there are, unquestionably ; though, too ge-
nerally, in a very low and imperfect degree. But
how rarely do we discover what Saint Paul calls,
" the fruit of the spirit, — love, joy, peace, long-
suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness,
temperance." Yet, sureJy, the possession of these
tempers is just as essential to Christianity now, as
it w-as in the days of Saint Paul : now, as well as
then, it is an immutable truth, that, ** If any man
have not the spirit of Christ, he is none of his."
To show, then, strongly and feelingly the misery
notonly of sinful actions, but of that carnal, worldly,
indevout, unfeeling state of mind, in which most
men are content to live; and to point out the abso-
lute necessity of a change from that state, into an
humble, watchful, spiritual, devout, filial frame of
mind, is, in my opinion, the very foundation of all
ALEXANDER KNOX, ESQ. 279
Christian preaching ; as it is, in truth, the key-stone
of Christianity.
The very word for repentance, points out the
reality and depth of this change ; jierapoia *' a
transformation of mind." And our Lord's words to
Saint Paul, clearly explain wherein that change,
that fxeravoia consists : " To open their eyes ; to
turn them from darkness to light; and from the
power of Satan unto God :" that is, to enlighten
them with a divine and saving knowledge of what
is true and good ; to fill their hearts with the love
of it; and to furnish them with the power to per-
form it. The blessings consequent upon this change
immediately follow : " That they may receive for-
giveness of sins ; and an inheritance among them
that are sanctified, through faith, that is in me."
Christianity, then, in this view, is really what
Saint Paul's calls it, — " the power of God unto sal-
vation." When thus pursued, I mean, when a deep
sense of inward depravity and weakness excites a
man to seek divine knowledge, and divine grace, in
order to the enlightening of his mind, and the re-
newing of his heart ; when this view produces con-
scientious watchfulness, excites to fervent habitual
devotion, and presents to the mind, in a new light,
God's inestimable love, in the redemption of the
world by his Son ; then, by degrees, sometimes
more rapidly, sometimes more slowly, the true
Christian character begins to form itself in the mind.
Then the great things spoken of Christianity, in
the New Testament, begin to be understood, be-
cause they begin to be felt. The vanity of earthly
280 ALEXANDER KNOX, ESQ.
things becomes more and more apparent : that di-
vine faith which gives victory over the world begins
to operate : religious duties, once burthensome, be-
come delightful ; self-government becomes natural
and easy; reverential love to God, and gratitude
to the Redeemer, producing humility, meekness,
active, unbounded benevolence, grow into habitual
principles ; private prayer is cultivated not merel}''
as a duty, but as the most delightful exercise of the
mind ; cheerfulness reigns within, and diffuses its
sweet influence over the whole conversation and
conduct; all the innocent natural enjoyments of
life, (scarcely, perhaps, tasted before, from the na-
tural relish of the mind being blunted by artificial
pleasures,) become inexhaustible sources of com-
fort ; and the close of life is contemplated as the
end of all pain, and the commencement of perfect
everlasting felicity.
This, then, I conceive is a faint sketch of that
state of mind to which the Christian preacher should
labour to bring himself and his hearers. This I
take to be " true religion ;" our Saviour's " well of
water, springing up into everlasting life ;" Saint
Paul's " new creature," and ^'spiritual mind ;" and
Saint John's *' fellowship with the Father, and with
his Son Jesus Christ."
' These points, therefore, I take to be the great
features of Christian preaching : —
1. The danger and misery of an unrenewed, un-
regenerate state ; whether it be of the more gross,
or of the more decent kind.
ALEXANDER KNOX, ESQ. 281
2. The absolute necessity of an inward change :
a moral transformation of mind and spirit.
3. The important and happy effects which take
place when this change is really produced.
But how little justice have I done the subject !
what a meagre outline have I given you ! But if
it sets you on thinking for yourself, and leads you,
like the Bereans, to search the Scriptures, " whe-
ther these things be so," it is the utmost I can look
for.
LETTER CCCLXXXVII.
Rev. John Jebb to Alexander Knox, Esq.— The advan-
tages of a small charge ; especially with reference to more ex-
tensive ultimate usefulness.
My dear Sir, Cashel, Jan. 24, 1804.
I this morning wrote a longer letter, which I intended
for you ; but which, through inadvertence,! suffered
to take fire, while I was in the act of sealing it.
And, therefore, I have now my labour to begin
again. If there be any thing like local influence,
I fear my epistle will not be mended : this morning
I wrote in the old and precious library ; (') now, I
am in my bed-chamber, not entirely undisturbed
by the noise of carpenters, putting up book-shelves
in my sitting-room. However, I feel sincere plea-
sure in the conviction, that, when I wrote in the
(') The diocesan library at Cashel.
282 ALEXANDER KNOX, ESQ.
morning, it was not under the influence of a mere
transient April gleam of mental sunshine. I then
said, " I will candidly own to you, that, at my first
coming down here, my spirits were low. But, God
be thanked, I have not found myself in a more
cheerful frame of mind, for many months, than I
am at this moment. And it is pleasant that this
change is produced, not in society, nor in conse-
quence of any thing worldly, but in the midst of
good old books ; partly, I believe, through their in-
fluence, and primarily, I humbly hope, through
the influence of a far higher agency." What I
then wrote, I am happy to give you, as my present
feeling : join with me, my good friend, in humble
prayers, that it may be permanent. I find myself
called to the care of a small but uninstructed flock ;
and, therefore, I hope that when I am settled I
shall find a sufficiency of active employment. The
number of my parishioners is so limited, that I
hope to see almost every family every week ; and
their present ignorance, I have every reason to ima-
gine, so great, that there will be a field for exertion
among them. I rejoice that my situation is such
as to exclude all temptations to public display;
and, consequently, I trust, most of the danger of
seeking popular commendation. I conceive it pe-
culiarly fortunate, that, by a decent management of
time, in my present limited sphere, I shall have
much leisure to prepare for a more extensive one ;
should providence ever be pleased to call me to it.
I feel, and I apply, the sage observation of Bishop
Hall now before me. " It is commonly seen, that
ALEXANDER KNOX, ESQ. 283
boldness puts men forth before their time, before
their ability. Wherein we have seen many, that
(like lapwings and partridges) have ran away,
with some part of their shell upon their heads.
Whence, it follows, that, as they began boldly, so
they proceed unprofitably, and conclude, not with-
out shame. I would rather be haled, by force of
others, to great duties, than rush upon them un-
bidden. It were better a man should want work ;
than that great works should want a man answer-
able to their weight." When I look back to ^the
last eighteen months of my life, and, at the same
time, seriously consider these wise and pious sen-
timents of Hall, I am not without a self-jealousy
of forwardness, precipitancy, and boldness. God
grant that the tendency to such defects may be
daily lessened in me ; and that, at the same time, I
may grow in zeal, and modestly and profitably
discharge the duties of the station I am placed in.
LETTER CCCLXXXVIII.
Mr. Kxox's reply.
My dear Mr. Jebb, Jan. 28, 1804.
I greatly thank you for your right pleasant letter.
The amiable apostle Saint John says, in his third
Epistle, " I have no greater joy than to hear that my
children walk in truth." And I conceive the sub-,
stance of his sentiment is entailed upon all, that
inherit any real portion of his Christian feelings.
284 ALEXANDER KNQX, ESQ.
I believe I felt a g^ood deal in this way when I read
your account of yourself. You have heard me
quote that beautiful sentence of Boethius,
Fcelix qui potuit boni
Foniem visere lucidum.
The quiet serenity you have tasted, and, I trust, are
tasting, is a prelibation from this fountain. " Great
peace have they who love thy law," is a natural,
as well as a divine truth ; a platonic, no less than
a scriptural sentiment. And, certainly, these feel-
ings are given, to make it be known, by experience,
that " wisdom's ways are ways of pleasantness,
and all her paths are peace."
Bishop Hall was a thoroughly Christian man ;
of great powers of mind and genuine piety. It is
remarkable how his piety brightens towards the close
of his life. It might be supposed, that there was
something to be overcome in him, and therefore
such sharp sufferings were permitted to come upon
him ; but, his Free Prisoner, and his Soul's Farewell
to Earth and approach to Heaven, or some such
name, shows a completely humble, spiritual, and
heavenly mind. He was of a different school from
my greatest favourites ; but he had in him the root
of the matter, and was an excellent man.
These early post-hours make it unavoidable to
write short letters, if one writes at all in the even-
ing. I could not write in the morning ; and the
time so presses, that I must only add now, that I
am always most truly and affectionately yours,
Alexander Knox.
WILLIAM COWPER, ESQ. 285
LETTER CCCLXXXIX.
William Cowper, Esq. to the Rev. J. Newtox.
My dear Friend, Olney, Nov. 7, 1781.
Mr. Bull is an honest man. We have seen him
twice since he received your orders to march hi-
ther, and faithfully told us it was in consequence of
those orders that he came. He dined with us yes-
terday ; we were all in pretty good spirits, and the
day passed very agreeably. It is not long since he
called on Mr. Scott. Mr. R came in. Mr. Bull
began, addressing himself to the former, *' My
friend you are in trouble ; you are unhappy ; I
read it in your countenance." Mr. Scott replied,
he had been so, but he was better. *' Come then,"
says Mr. Bull, *' I will expound to you the cause
of all your anxiety. You are too common; you
make yourself cheap. Visit your people less, and
converse more with your own heart. How often
do you speak to them in the week ?" " Thrice." —
" Ay, there it is. Your sermons are an old ballad ;
your prayers are an old ballad; and you are an
old ballad too." " I would wish to tread in the steps
of Mr. Newton." *" You do well to follow his steps
in all other instances, but in this instance you are
wrong and so was he. Mr. Newton trod a path
which no man but himself could have used so long
•as he did, and he wore it out long before he went
from Olney. Too much familiarity and conde-
286 WILLIAM COWPER, ESQ.
scension cost him the estimation of his people. He
thought he could insure their love, to which he had
the best possible title ; and by those very means he
lost it. Be wise, my friend ; take warning, make
yourself scarce, if you wish that persons of little
understanding should know how to prize you."
When he related to us this harangue, so adjusted
to the case of the third person present, it did us
both good, and as Jacques says,
" It made my lungs to crow like Chanticleer."
Our love of you both, though often sent to London,
is still with us. If it is not an exhaustible well,
(there is but one love, that can, with propriety, be
called so,) it is, however, a very deep one, and not
likely to fail while we are living.
Yours, my dear Sir,
W. C.
PART VII.
MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS.
PART VII.
MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS.
LETTER CCCXC.
Archbishop Leighton to a Friend. Who are the most
perfect Christians.
Dec. 13th, 1676.
And now I have begun, I would end just here; for
I have nothing to say, nothing of affairs (to be
sure) private nor public; and to strike up to dis-
courses of devotion, alas ! what is there to be said,
but what you sufficiently know, and daily read,
and daily think, and, I am confident, daily endea-
vour to do ? And I am beaten back, if I had a
great mind to speak of such things, by the sense of
so great deficiency, in doing those things that the
most ignorant among Christians cannot choose
but know. Instead of all fine notions,! fly to Kvpie
sXerfcroy, Xpiffre eXerjaov. I think them the great
heroes and excellent persons of the world that at-
tain to high degrees of pure contemplation and di-
vine love ; but next to those, them that in aspiring
VOL. III. U
290 RICHARD BAXTER.
to that, and falling short of it, fall down into deep
humility, and self-contempt, and a real desire to be
despised and trampled on by all the world. And I
believe they that sink lowest into that depth, stand
nearest to advancement to those other heights; for
the great King, who is the fountain of that honour,
hath given us this character of himself, that he re-
sists the proud, and gives grace to the humble.
Farewell, my dear friend, and be so charitable as
sometimes, in your addresses upwards, to remember
a poor caitiff, who no day forgets you.
R.L.
LETTER CCCXCI.
RjCHARD Baxter to the Earl or Lauderdale, in reply to
offers of considerable preferment, if he would accompany him
to Scotland. Illustrative of his character, and supplying a cu-
rious picture of his circumstances at that time.
My Lord, June 24, 1670.
Being deeply sensible of your lordship's favours,
and especially for your liberal offers for my enter-
tainment in Scotland, I humbly return you my
very hearty thanks; but the following considera-
tions forbid me to entertain any hopes, or further
thoughts of such a removal.
The experience of my great weakness and decay
of strength, and particularly of this last winter's
pain, and how much worse I am in winter than
in summer, fully persuades me that I should live
but a little while in Scotland, and that in a dis-
RICHARD BAXTER. 291
abled condition, rather keeping my bed than the
pulpit.
I am engaged in writing a book, which, if I
could hope to live to finish, is almost all the service
I expect to do to God and his church more in the
world — a Latin Methodus Theologiae. Indeed, I
can hardly hope to live so long, as it requires yet
nearly a year's labour more. Now, if I should
spend that half-year or year, which should finish
this work in travel, and the trouble of such a re-
moval, and then leave it undone, it would disap-
point me of the ends of my life. I live only for
work, and therefore should remove only for work,
and not for wealth and honours, if ever T remove.
If I were there, all that I could hope for, were
liberty to preach the gospel of salvation, and espe-
cially in some university among young scholars.
jBut I hear that you have enough already for this
work, who are likely to do it better than I can.
I have a family, and in it a mother-in-law of
eighty years of age, of honourable extract and great
worth, whom I must not neglect, and who cannot
travel. To such an one as I, it is so great a busi-
ness to remove a family, with all our goods and
books, so far that it deterreth me from thinking of
it, especially having paid so dear for removals
these eight years as I have done ; and being but
yesterday settled in a house which I have newly
taken, and that with great trouble and loss of time.
And, if I should find Scotland disagree with me,
which I fully conclude it would, I must remove all
back again.
u 2
292 RICHARD BAXTER.
All these things concur to deprive me of the be-
nefit of your lordship's favour. But, my lord,
there are other parts of it which I am not altogether
hopeless of receiving. When I am commanded
" to pray for kings, and all in authority,'' T am
allowed the ambition of this preferment, which is
all that ever I aspired after, " to live a quiet and
peaceable life, in all godliness and honesty." Diu
nimis habitavit anima mea inter osores pads.
I am weary of the noise of contentious revilers,
and have oft had thoughts to go into a foreign land,
if I could find where I might have a healthful air
and quietness, but to live and die in peace. When
I sit in a corner, and meddle with nobody, and
hope the world will forget that I am alive, court,
city, and country are still filled with clamours
against me. When a preacher wanteth prefer-
ment, his way is to preach or write a book against
the nonconformists, and me by name; so that the
menstrua of the press, and the pulpits of some, are
bloody invectives against myself, as if my peace
were inconsistent with the kingdom's happiness.
Never did my eyes read such impudent untruths in
matter of fact as such writings contain. They cry
out for answers and reasons of my nonconformity,
while they know the law forbiddeth me to answer
them unlicensed. I expect not that any favour or
justice of my superiors should cure this; but, if I
might but be heard to speak for myself before I be
judged by them, and such things believed, (for, to
contemn the judgment of my rulers is to dishonour
them,) I would request that I might be allowed to
RICHARD BAXTER. 293
live quietly, to follow my private studies, and
might once again have the use of my books, which
I have not seen these ten years. I pay for a room
for their standing in at Kidderminster, where they
are eaten by worms and rats ; having no sufficient
security for my quiet abode in any place, to encou-
rage me to send for them. I would also ask that I
might have the liberty every beggar hath, to travel
from town to town. I mean but to London, to
oversee the press, when any thing of mine is
licensed for it. If I be sent to Newgate for preach-
ing Christ's gospel, (for I dare not sacrilegiously
renounce my calling, to which I am consecrated
per sacramentum or dints,) I would request the
favour of a better prison, where I may but walk and
write. These I should take as very great favours,
and acknowledge your lordship my benefactor if
you procure them : for I will not so much injure
you as to desire, or my reason as to expect, any
greater matters; no, not the benefit of the law.
I think I broke no law in any of the preachings
of which I am accused. I most confidently think,
that no law imposeth on me the Oxford oath, any
more than on any conformable minister; and I am
past doubting the present mittimus for my impri-
sonment is quite without law. But, if the justices
think otherwise now, or at any time, I know no re-
medy. I have a license to preach publicly in London
diocese, under the archbishop's own hand and seal,
which is yet valid for occasional sermons, though
not for lectures or cures; but, I dare not use it,
because it is in the bishop's power to recall it.
294 JOHN EVELYN.
Would but the bishop, who, one should think,
would not be against the preaching of the gospel,
not recall my license, I could preach occasional
sermons, which would absolve my conscience from
all obligation to private preaching. For it is not
maintenance that I expect. I never received a
farthing for my preaching, to my knowledge since
May 1, 1662. I thank God I have food and rai-
ment, without being chargeable to any man, which
is all that I desire, had I but leave to preach for
nothing ; and that only where there is a notorious
necessity. I humbly crave your lordship's pardon
for the tediousness of this letter; and again return
you my very great thanks for your great favours.
And remain, &c.
LETTER CCCXCII.
John Evelyn to Sir Samuel Tuke. Condolence on the
loss of his wife. Account of the fire of London.
Sir, Says-court, Sept 27, 1666.
It was some four days before the most fatal confla-
gration of the (quondam) city of London that I ad-
dressed a few lines to you ; little thinking I should
so soon have had two such dissolutions to deplore;
the burning of the best town in the world ; and the
decease of the best friend in the world, your excel-
lent lady. Sir, you know they are but small afflic-
tions that are loquacious — great ones are silent;
and, if ever great ones there were, mine eyes have
JOHN EVELYN. 295
beheld, and mine ears heard them, with an heart so
possessed with sorrow, that it is not easily ex-
pressed ; because the instances have been altogether
stupendous and unparalleled. But it were in vain
to entertain you with those formal topics, which
are wont to be applied to persons of less fortitude
and Christian resignation, though I cannot but ex-
hort you to what I know you do — look upon all
things in this world as transitory and perishing ;
sent us upon condition of quitting them cheerfully,
when God pleases to take them from us. This
consideration alone (with the rest of those graces
which God has furnished you withal) will be able
to alleviate your passion, and to preserve you from
succumbing under your pressures, which I confess
are weighty, but not insupportable : live therefore,
I conjure you, and help to restore your dear coun-
try, and to consolate your friends. There is none
alive wishes you more sincere happiness than my
poor family.
I suppose I should have heard ere this from you
of all your concernments ; but impute your silence
to some possible miscarriage of your letters ; since
the usual place of address is with the rest reduced
to ashes, and made an heap of ruins. I would give
you a more particular relation of this calamitous
accident, but I should oppress you with sad stories,
and, I question not but they are come too soon
amongst you at Paris, with all minuteness, and
(were it possible:) hyperbolies. There is this yet of
less deplorable in it : that, as it has pleased God to
order it, little effects of any great consequence have
296 JOHN EVELYN.
been lost, besides the houses : — that our merchants
at the same instant in which it was permitted that
the tidings should fly over seas, had so settled
all their affairs, as they complied with their foreign
correspondence as punctually as if no disaster at
all had happened; nor do we hear of so much as
one that has failed. The Exchange is now at
Gresham College, The rest of the city (which
may consist of near a seventh part) and suburbs
peopled with new shops, the same noise, business,
and commerce, not to say vanity. Only the poor
booksellers have been indeed ill-treated by Vulcan ;
so many noble impressions consumed by their trust-
ing tbem to the churches, as the loss is estimated
near two hundred thousand pounds : which will be
an extraordinary deti'iment to the whole republic
of learning. In the mean time, the king and par-
liament are infinitely zealous for the rebuilding of
our ruins ; and I believe it will universally be the
employment of the next spring ; they are now bu-
sied with adjusting the claims of each proprietor,
that so they may dispose things for the building
after the noblest model. Every body brings in his
idea ; among the rest, I presented his majesty my
own conceptions, with a discourse annexed. It was
the second that was seen, within two days after the
conflagration ; but Dr. Wren had got the start of
me. Both of us did coincide so frequently, that
his majesty was not displeased with it, and it
caused divers alterations ; and truly there was never
a more glorious phoenix upon earth, if it do at
last emerge out of these cinders, and as the design
DANIEL DE FOE. 297
is laid with tlie present fervour of the undertakers.
But these things are as yet immature ; and I pray
God we may enjoy peace to encourage these fair dis-
positions. The miracle is, I have never in my life
observed a more universal resignation, less repining
amongst sufferers; which makes me hope, that
God has yet thoughts of mercy towards us. Judg-
ments do not always end where they begin ; and
therefore let none exult over our calamities. We
know not whose turn it may be next. But, sir, I
forbear to entertain you longer on these sad reflec-
tions, but persist to beg you not to suffer any trans-
portations unbecoming a man of virtue : resolve to
preserve yourself, if it be possible, for better times,
the good and restoration of your country, and the
comfort of your friends and relations, and amongst
them of, sir.
Yours, &c.
LETTER CCCXCIIL
Daniel De Foe to his son-in-law, Mr. Bakek. One of
the most affecting letters ever written.
About two miles from Greenwich, Kent,
Tuesday, Aug. 12,1730.
Dear Mr. Baker,
I have your very kind and affectionate letter of
the first; but not come to my hand until the
tenth : where it had been delayed I know not.
As your kind manner, and kinder thought from
298 DANIEL DE FOE.
which it flows, (for I take all you say to be as I
always believed you to be, sincere an<l Nathaniel
like, without guile,) was a particular satisfaction
to me ; so the stop of a letter, however it happened,
deprived me^ of that cordial too many days, con-
sidering how much I stood in need of it, to sup-
port a mind sinking under the weight of an afflic-
tion too heavy for my strength, and looking on
myself as abandoned of every comfort, every friend,
and every relative, except such only as are able to
give me no assistance.
I was sorry you should say at the beginning
of your letter, you were debarred seeing me.
Depend upon my sincerity for this, I am far from
debarring you. On the contrary, it would be
a greater comfort to me than any I now enjoy,
that I could have your agreeable visits with safety,
and could see both you and my dearest Sophia,
could it be without giving her the grief of seeing
her father " in tenehris," and under the load of in-
supportable sorrows. I am sorry I must open my
griefs so far as to tell her, it is not the blow I re-
ceived from a wicked, perjured, and contemptible
enemy, that has broken in upon my spirit ; w hich,
as she well knows, has carried me on through greater
disasters than these. But it has been the injustice,
unkindness, and, I must say, inhuman dealing of
my own son, which has both ruined my family,
and, in a word, has broken my heart ; and as I am
at this time under a weight of very heavy illness,
which I think will be a fever, I take this occasion
to vent my grief in the breasts who I know will
DANIEL DE FOE. 299
make a prudent use of it, and tell you, that nothing
but this has conquered or could conquer me, *' Et
tu Brute.'' I depended upon him ; I trusted him ;
I gave up my two dear unprovided children into
his hands ; but he has no compassion, and suffers
them and their poor dying mother to beg their
bread at his door, and to crave, as if it were an
alms, what he is bound under hand and seal, be-
sides the most sacred promises, to supply them
with ; himself, at the same time, living in a pro-
fusion of plenty. It is too much for me. Ex-
cuse my infirmity, I can say no more ; my heart
is too full. I only ask one thing of you as a dy-
ing request. Stand by them when I am gone,
and let them not be wronged, while he is able to
do them right. Stand by them as a brother ; and
if you have any thing within you owing to my
memory, who have bestowed on you the best gift
I had to give, let them not be injured and tram-
pled on by false pretences, and unnatural reflec-
tions. I hope they will want no help but that of
comfort and counsel ; but that they will indeed
want, being too easy to be managed by words and
promises.
It adds to my grief that it is so difficult to me to
see you. I am at a distance from London, in
Kent; nor have I a lodging in London ; nor have
I been at that place in the Old Bailey, since I
wrote you, I was removed from it. At present I
am weak, having had some fits of a fever that have
left me low. But those things much more.
I have not seen son or daughter, wife or child,
300 DANIEL DE FOE.
many weeks, and know not which way to see
them. They dare not come by water, and by land
here is no coach, and I know not what to do.
It is not possible for me to come to Enfield, un-
less you could find a retired lodging for me, where
I might not be known, and might have the comfort
of seeing you both, now and then : upon such a cir-
cumstance, I could gladly give the days to soli-
tude, to have the comfort of half an hour, now and
then, with you both for two or three weeks. But
just to come and look at you, and retire immedi-
ately, it is a burden too heavy. The parting will
be a price beyond the enjoyment.
I would say, (I hope,) with comfort, that it is
yet well I am so near my journey's end, and am
hastening to the place where the weary are at rest,
and where the wicked cease to trouble; be it that
the passage is rough, and the day stormy, by what
way soever He please to bring me to the end of it,
I desire to finish life with this temper of soul in
all cases : " Te Deum laudamus"
I congratulate you on the occasion of your hap-
py advance in your employment. May all you
do be prosperous, and all you meet with pleasant ;
and may you both escape the tortures and troubles
of uneasy life. May you sail the dangerous
voyage of life with a forcing ivind, and make the
port of heaven without a storm.
It adds to my grief that I must never see the
pledge of your mutual love, my little grandson.
Give him my blessing, and may he be to you both
your joy in youth, and your comfort in age, and
JOHN LOCKE. 301
never add a sigh to your sorrow. But, alas ! that
is not to be expected. Kiss my dear Sophy once
more for me ; and if I must see her no more, tell
her this is fronv a father that loved her above all
his comforts, to his last breath.
Your unhappy,
D. F.
LETTER CCCXCIV.
John Locke to Mr. Molyneux. A striking testimony to
the completeness and excellence of the moral system of the
gospel.
Gates, March 30, 1696.
As to a " treatise of morals," I must own to you
that you are not the only persons (you and Mr.
Burridge, I mean) who have been for putting
me upon it; neither have I wholly laid by the
thoughts of it. Nay, I so far incline to comply
with your desires, that I, every now and then, lay
by some materials for it, as they occasionally occur
in the rovings of my mind. But when I consider,
that a book of offices, as you call it, ought not to
be slightly done, especially by me, after what I
have said of that science in my essay ; and that
nonumque prematur in annum, is a rule more ne-
cessary to be observed in a subject of that conse-
quence, than in any thing Horace speaks of; I
am in doubt, whether it would be prudent, in one
of my age and health, not to mention other dis-
302 JOHN LOCKE.
abilities in me, to set about it. Did the world
want a rule, I confess there could be no work so
necessary, nor so commendable. But the gospel
contains so perfect a body of ethics, that reason
may be excused from that inquiry, since she may
find man's duty clearer and easier in revelation,
than in herself. Think not this the excuse of a lazy
man, though it be, perhaps, of one who, having a
sufficient rule for his actions is content therewith,
and thinks he may, perhaps, with more profit to
himself, employ the little time and strength he has,
in other researches, wherein he finds himself more
in the dark.
My Lord Deputy and you did too great honour
to the paper I sent you, and to me, upon that ac-
count. I know too well the deficiency of my
style, to think it deserves the commendations you
give it. That which makes my writings tolerable,
if any thing, is only this, that I never write for
any thing but truth, and never publish any thing to
others, which I am not fully persuaded of myself,
and do not think I understand. So that 1 never
have need of false colours to set off the weak part
of an hypothesis, or of obscure expressions, or the
assistance of artificial jargon, to cover an error
in my system or party. Where I am ignorant
(for what is our knowledge ?) I own it. And
though I am not proud of my errors, yet I am
ready and glad to be convinced of any of them. I
think there wants nothing, but such a preference
of truth to party interest and vain-glory, to make
BISHOP WARBURTON. 303
any body outdo me, in what you seem so much to
admire.
I am, dear sir,
Your most affectionate humble servant,
John Locke.
LETTER CCCXCV.
Bishop Warburton to Dr. Doddridge. On the peru-
sal of the first volume of the Family Expositor.
Dear Sir, Cambridge, April 1 1, 1739.
I write to you amidst a strange mixture of enter-
tainments and study, between the college halls and
libraries. The necessity of consulting books only to
be met with here, has brought me to Cambridge;
but my long nights in company make my mornings
by myself so very short, that I am likely to return
as wise as I came ; which will be in a few days.
Before I left the country, I had the pleasure of
receiving your Family Expositor. My mother and I
took it by turns. She, who is so superior to me in
every thing, aspired to the divine learning of the
improvements, while I kept groveling in the hu-
man learning in the notes below. The result of
all was, that she says she is sure you are a very
good man, and I am sure you are a very learned
one.
I sat down to your notes with a great deal of
304 BISHOP WARBURTON.
malice, and a determined resolution not to spare
you. And let me tell you, a man who comments
on the Bible affords all the opportunity a caviller
could wish for. But your judgment is always so
true and your decision so right, that I am as un-
profitable a reader to you as the least of your
flock.
A friend of mine. Dr. Taylor, of Newark, (M. D.)
who has seen your book, desires to be a subscriber.
If you will be so good as to order a book to be left
for him at Mr. Gyles's he has orders to pay for it.
I have taken the liberty to inclose two or three
papers of proposals, just now offered to the public by
my friend. Dr. Middleton, for his Life of Tully.
I am, dear sir.
Your very affectionate friend and brother,
W. Warburton.
LETTER CCCXCVI.
Bishop Warburton to Dr. Doddridge. A curious
account of his own habits.
Dear Sir,
I propose to have it (') out about Easter; and yet, to
my shame I must tell you, though it consists of three
books, the first is not yet entirely printed ; and that
I have not yet composed the far greatest part of the
(>) Second volume of his Divine Legation.
BISHOP WARBURTON. 305
Other two. To let you into this mystery, I must
acquaint you with my faults and imperfections, the
common occasion of all profane mysteries. I am
naturally very indolent, and apt to be disgusted
with what has been any time in my hands or
thoughts. When T published my first volume, I
intended to set about the remainder immediately,
but found such a disgust to an old subject that I
deferred it from month to month, and year to year ;
till at length, not being able to conquer my listless-
ness, I was forced to have recourse to an old expe-
dient. That is, to begin to set the press on work,
and so oblige myself unavoidably to keep it going.
I began this project last year, but grew weary again
before I had half got through the first book; and
there it stuck till just now, when I set it going
again, and have absolutely promised the bookseller
to supply him constantly with copy till the whole
volume is printed, and to get it ready by Lady-day.
So that now I hurry through it in a strange manner,
and you may expect to find it as incorrect as the
former, and for the same reason. Yet I had resolved
against serving this volume so ; and still my evil
nature prevailed, and I find, at length, it is in vain
to strive with it.
I take no pride, I will assure you, in telling you
my infirmities. I confess myself as to a friend
without any manner of aflfectation ; anfi that you
may see it is so, I would not have you think that
natural indolence alone makes me thus play the
fool. Distractions of various kinds, inseparable'
from human life, joined with a habit naturally me-
VOL. III. X
306 BISHOP WARBURTON.
lancholy, contribute greatly to increase my indo-
lence, and force me often to seek in letters nothing
but mere amusement. This makes my reading
wild and desultory: and I seek refuge from the
uneasiness of thought from any book, let it be what
it will, that can engage my attention. There is no
one whose good opinion I more value than yours ;
and the marks you give me of it make me so vain,
that I am resolved to humble myself in making
you this confession.
By my manner of writing upon subjects, you
would naturally imagine they afford me pleasure
and attach me thoroughly : T will assure you, no!
I have much amused myself in human learning to
wear away the tedious hours inseparable from a
melancholy habit ; but no earthly thing gives me
pleasure, except the ties of natural relationship, and
the friendship of good men ; and for all views of
happiness, I have no notion of such a thing, but
in the prospects which revealed religion affords us.
You see how I treat you, as if you were my con-
fessor. You are in a more sacred relation to me :
I regard you as my friend !
I am, dear sir.
Your most affectionate brother and friend,
and faithful humble servant,
W. Warburton.
f
BISHOP WARBURTON. 307
LETTER CCCXCVII.
BiSHor Warburton to Dr. Doddridge, after a visit at
his house.
Dear Sir, May 28, 1741.
After an extremely fatiguing journey in the stage-
coach with very indifferent company, increased by
worse taken up on the road, I reached Mr. Gyles^s
between eight and nine last night.
I have abundance of thanks to return for the very
friendly entertainment I met with at Northampton,
from you and your excellent lady. I must tell you
frankly, you have more happiness than comes to the
share of one man, and to make it the more exquisite,
of several kinds. Providence has treated you with a
feast of many courses, which none but a good Levite
under the old law, when the dispensation was exact,
could fairly pretend to. That you may long enjoy
every part of it, especially '^ that last and best —
which shares and doubles all the rest," is the
earnest prayer of.
Dear sir.
Your most affectionate brother and friend,
W. Ware u ETON.
X 2
308 DR. DODDRIDGE.
LETTER CCCXCVIII.
Dr. Doddridge to Rev. B. Fawcett. Dr. Doddridge's
character of Lady Huntingdon. A striking incident.
Northampton, June 26', 1750.
My very dear Friend,
I am sorry for any abatement in your well-earned
possessions ; bq,t when all we have is devoted to
the Lord, we bear losses as stewards, rather than
as proprietors. I bless God this earth is less and
less to me, and I could willingly have done with
it should it please my Master to give me leave.
Yet for him I would live and labour, and, 1 hope,
if such were his will, suffer too.
Lady Huntingdon, for whom I desired your
prayers, is wonderfully recovered. She walked
with me in the garden and park, and almost
wearied me; such is her recruit of strength : but
the strength of her soul is amazing. I think I
never saw so much of the image of God in any
woman upon earth. Were I to write what I
know of her, it would fill your heart with wonder,
joy, and praise. She desired me to educate a lad
for the dissenting ministry at her expense, till he
be fit to come into my academy on an exhibition ;
and this is but one of a multitude of good works
she is continually performing. I must tell you,
however, one observation of hers which struck me
much : " None," said she, " know how to prize
Christ but those who are zealous in good works.
DR. DODDRIDGE. 309
Men know not till they try what poor imperfect
things our best works are, and how deficient we are
in them; and the experience of that sweetness
which attends their performance makes us more
sensible of those obligations to him whose grace is
the principle of them in our hearts." She has God
dwelling in her, and she is ever bearing her testi-
mony to the present salvation he has given us, and
to the fountain of living waters which she feels
springing up in her soul, so that she knows the
divine original of the promises, before the per-
formance of them to her, as she knows God to
be her Creator by the life he has given her.
AsT was setting out on my blessed journey to her,
for such indeed it was, yesterday was sevennight, a
terrible accident happened in my study, which
might have been attended with fatal consequences :
I had been sealing a letter with a little roll of wax,
and I thought I had blown it out, when, fanned by
the motion of the air, as I arose in haste, it was
rekindled. It burned about a quarter of an hour
while we were at prayer, and would have gone on
to consume perhaps the closet and the house, had
not my opposite neighbour seen the flame and
given an alarm. When I came up, I found my
desk, which was covered with papers, burning like
an altar ; many letters, papers of memorandums,
and schemes for sermons, were consumed. My
book of accounts was on fire, and the names at the
top almost burnt through ; a volume of the Family
Expositor, the original MSS. from the Corinthians
to Ephesians, surrounded with flames, and drench-
310 DR. DODDRIDGE.
ed in melted wax ; the fire had kindled up around
it, and burned off some leaves, and the corners of
the other books, so that there is not one leaf en-
tire : and yet, so did God moderate the rage of this
element, and determine in his Providence the
time of our entrance, that not one account is ren-
dered uncertain by what it suffered, nox is one
line which had not been transcribed destroyed in
the MS. I have to add, that all my vouchers for
Miss Ekin's money, all my sermons and MSS.
intended for the press, and among the rest the re-
mainder of the Family Expositor, w^ere all in such
danger, that the fire, in another quarter of an hour,
had probably consumed them. Observe, my dear
friend, the hand of God, and magnify the Lord
with me.
I earnestly beg your prayers, and entreat you to
salute my praying friends with redoubled saluta-
tions in this view, and with this message : " The
grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with all your
spirits, and with your families." I cannot say how
affectionately I am.
Dear sir.
Your ever faithful friend, brother,
and obliged servant,
P. Doddridge.
MR. BARKER. 311
LETTER CCCXCIX.
jMr. Barker to Dr. Doddridge. Beautiful character of
the latter.
Dear Doctor, London, July 3, 1750.
If ever it should happen that Northampton should
become unworthy of your labours, there are places
enough that would gladly receive you ; but I am
much more apprehensive of your death, than of
the danger of your losing the esteem of that place;
not you only, but your memory, will surely be
blessed there. But are you aware what a creature
you are ? I love you beyond expression, and ad-
mire your abilities, furniture, and spirits, more
than you imagine ; and not a man in the world re-
joices more in your usefulness than I do, and yet
I often make myself merry with your character
and conduct : I will give you a sketch of it. You
are so entirely devoted to God, to truth and holi-
ness, that it is very easy to impose upon you under
the appearance of any of these ; and are so perfectly
made up of candour and good nature, that a pious
enthusiast, or a godly dunce, is welcome to your
table and heart. You are so good yourself that
you think every body else ten times better than
they are; see merit in the darkness of midnight;
cannot see faults without a noonday sun ; forgive
injuries before they are confessed; confer favours
as a reward for affronts ; and will never believe but
that all who are in good earnest in religion, and
312 DR. DODDRIDGE.
enter into the belief, practice, life, and spirit of
it, are to be embraced by you, because Christ
receives them, let their opinions or denomina-
tions be what they will : now how should you be
a party man, or be likely to have your academy
supplied by people who live upon notions, phrases,
and external forms ! You — but I will not oblige
you any further now, but thank you for that Ser-
mon on Candour, which is the very picture of your
mind, and highly relished by
Your faithful and affectionate brother
Barker.
LETTER CCCC.
Dr. Doddridge to Mr. Hughes. Thoughts on retirement
and publicity.
Dear Sir, June 28, 1726, Midnight.
I received your last of the 23rd instant the morn-
ing after it was written, and own I deserve a little
of the severity with which you complain of the
shortness of the note you refer to. To affect to fill
a page with two lines is indeed a very compendi-
ous, but not a very equitable commerce; however,
you must remember that I told you I quickly in-
tended to favour you again, and moreover, you see
that I have begun to do so, but when I shall end I
know not. I fear you are in danger of three pages,
and then you will be paid at the rate of more than
DR. DODDRIDGE. 313
two hundred per cent, for I have not been a quarter
of a year in your debt. If you wonder at so accu-
rate a computation, you must recollect that a few
months ago I had some thoughts of matrimony,
which naturally led me into sundry speculations of
management and economy, which had not before
been very familiar.
Your sentiments on the head of retirement are
agreeable to that modesty and gentleness of temper
which make a very amiable part of your character;
and it is indeed an argument of the greatness of
your soul that you can despise fame, and retire
with indifference out of the air of popular applause
when master of the talent that may attract and
command it.
But after all, my friend, you must not think of
" passing through the world like a subterraneous
stream," as you beautifully express it, or of spend-
ing your life in a hermitage, wrapt in this learned
and polite luxury. God has endowed you with
capacities which are not always to be buried in re-
tirement ; so bright a lamp was not lighted up to
be consumed in a sepulchre; but rather to be
placed upon an eminence, whence its rays may be
diffused for public advantage, and where it maybe
a happy instrument of conducting many through
this gloomy desert to the regions of eternal joy. I
therefore hope, and I believe, that it is your con-
stant prayer that all your studies may be sub-
servient to such service ; and when Providence
calls you to a more public station, I question not
but you will be willing to quit your cell, charming
314 DR. DODDRIDGE.
as it is, that you may enter upon a round of em-
ployments, at least more important, if not equally
delicate with those which you now pursue. This
is an act of self-denial which our duty requires,
and which will be acceptable to God in proportion
to our fondness for those elegancies, which we are
content to resign, that we may attend to the ad-
vancement of the kingdom and interests of heaven.
The applause of our heavenly Master will indeed
be an abundant recompense for all the pleasures
we can give up for his sake; and before we receive
that public remuneration, we shall find such an in-
terest in the exercise of benevolence towards our
fellow-creatures, and in the hope of promoting their
everlasting felicity as we can never find in our con-
verse with Pliny, Virgil, Tully, or any of the fa-
vourite attendants of our solitude. Popularity is
in itself a most contemptible thing ; but in this
view it may justly appear desirable. However,
you, my friend, need not be solicitous about it ; do
but appear in public, and follow nature, and it will
flow in upon you without your care. I think I
may with the utmost propriety apply to you what
PJiny says to Caninius Rufus, In modo enitere ut
tibi ipse sis tanti, quanti videheris aliis si tihifueris.
I am, dear Sir,
Your most aflfectionate and obedient Friend,
P. Doddridge.
REV. AUGUSTUS TOPLADY. 315
LETTER CCCCI.
Rev. Augustus Toplady to Ambrose Sehle, Esq.
Singular incident.
Broad Hembury, July 8, 177^.
Shall I attempt to thank my ever dear and ever
respected friend, for his polite and obliging^ favour
of the 30th ult, or for the kind services which pre-
ceded that favour, and to which it refers ? No : it
is a duty, to whose performance I feel myself un-
equal. Your friendship, therefore, like what some
say concerning virtue at large, must be its own re-
ward ; yet, think me not insensible. My sensibi-
lity is the very cause of the omission. Were the
obligations, under which you lay me, more mode-
rate, I could with ease thank you for them ; but,
as the case stands, I must follow Horace's direction,
Consule quid valeant humeri; and not aim at impos-
sibilities.
Sure I am, that God will incline the scale, (and
not this only, but every other, to the end of time,)
so as shall conduce to his own glory, and to the ac-
complishment of his own purpose. It is ours, to
use the means in a dependence on his absolute
providence ; to bless the means used, is his. With
him all events must be ultimately rested ; and, I
trust, I can say, ex animo, with him I ever wish
and desire to rest them : nor would I have a single
incident removed out of his hand, were I possessed
of all power, both in heaven and earth.
316 REV. AUGSUTUS TOPLADY.
You are so good as to inquire after my safe return
into the West. I bless God my journey was both
safe and pleasant. The slightest mercies ought to
be thankfully received and noticed ; for they are
as absolutely undeserved as the greatest. We can
no more merit a moment's ease, or safety, or hap-
piness, in our going out and coming in, or any
other occasion whatever, than we can merit the
kingdom of heaven.
I travelled with a very old friend (or rather with
a very early) acquaintance: an officer of the 21st
regiment: with whom, at our first setting off in
the coach from London, I had an hour or two's
controversy concerning the lawfulness of duelling.
Your friend was on the negative side of the ques-
tion; the captain on the affirmative. During the
amicable skirmish, (a duel against duelling,) and
for many hours after, we were quite ignorant of
each other's names. And no wonder ; for we had
not met since the year 1757, when both were lads ;
and time has made such alteration in each, that
neither knew the other. We travelled to Bridport,
(that is, one hundred and thirty-eight miles) before
we found out who was who ; and I have seldom
known an eclaircissement which gave more pleasure
on both sides. The captain, very politely, invited
me to see him, if I should ever go to Plymouth ;
and, on my asking for whom I should enquire, the
discovery was made.
On a review, I am really ashamed of trespassing
on your patience and time, by such petty chit-chat.
REV. AUGUSTUS TOPLADY. 317
It is high season for me to apologize ; not by pro-
lific excuses, but by cutting matters short at once.
Only observing, that, if the unexpected sight of an
old and valued friend on earth, gives a heart-felt joy,
which none but a breast formed for friendship can
experience, what far more exceeding and exalted
blessedness must result from that " communion of
saints" made perfect which will obtain in the king-
dom of glory ! Until then, and when there, I am,
and shall ever be.
Your affectionate friend,
Augustus Toplady.
LETTER CCCCII.
Rev. Augustus Toplady to Mrs. Macauley. A curi-
ous interview.
Broad Hembury, July 8, 1774.
One day, when Mr. Ryland and I went to Isling-
ton, to dine with Mrs. Bacon, he took that oppor-
tunity of introducing me to Mr. Burgh, author of
the *' Political Disquisitions." I saw him to great
disadvantage, as he was in much pain, and in a
very ill humour. The interview, on the whole,
was a curious one. I was hardly seated, when he
said to Mr. Ryland, concerning me, " This gentle-
man, I apprehend, is an antagonist of Mr. Lind-
sey's." I answered for myself, "No, sir. I am
318 REV. AUGUSTUS TOPLADY.
not, indeed, of Mr. Lindsey's principles, but I look
upon him, with all his mistakes, to be an honest
man ; and I respect an honest man, be his opinions
what they will." By degress our conversation
grew rather engaging; and Mr. Burgh seemed, for
a while, to feel a truce from the torments of the
stone, and assumed some degree of good-nature.
But I should have had a sharp onset, if he had
been in perfect health. Even as it was, he could
not forbear feeling my pulse on the article of free-
will. In the course of our debate I drove him into
this dreadful refuge, namely, that *' God does all
he possibly can" (these were Mr. Burgh's own
words) "to hinder moral and natural evil, but he
cannot prevail : men will not permit God to have
his wish." Lest I should mistake his meaning, I
requested him to repeat those terms again, which he
did. " Then the Deity ,*^ said I, "must needs be a
very unhappy being." "Not in the least,'' replied
Burgh. " What," rejoined I, " disappointed of his
wishes, embarrassed in his views, and defeated of
his schemes, and yet not be unhappy?" "No,"
rejoined Burgh : " for he knows that he must be so
disappointed and defeated, and that there is no
help for it; and therefore he submits to necessity,
and does not make himself unhappy about it." A
strange idea this of the Supreme Being ! At
coming away, I told Mr. Burgh, that however
he might suppose God to be disappointed of his
will, I hoped the public would not be disap-
pointed of the remaining volumes of the Political
Disquisitions yet unfinished. And, in very truth.
REV. AUGUSTUS TOPLADY. 319
madam, your friend Burgh is much better qualified
for political disquisitions, than either for theological
or for metaphysical ones. Adieu.
Augustus Toplady.
LETTER CCCCIII.
Rev. Augustus Toplady to Mr. H , after hearing
Theophilus Lindsey.
Titchfield-street, London, May 23, 1 774,
Yesterday afternoon, being Whitsunday, curiosity
led me to hear Mr. Theophilus Lindsey, who lately
resigned the vicarage of Catterick. I took care to
be there before any of the service began, in order to
hear what that gentleman calls the reformed li-
turgy ; but what may more truly be termed the li-
turgy deformed. It is a wretched skeleton of the
old Common Prayer, shorn and castrated of all its
evangelical excellencies.
He preached, or rather read a poor, dry, un-
grateful harangue on Matt. xxv. 14, 15. So wretch-
edly was he tied and bound by the chain of his
notes, that, if by accident, he happened to take his
eye from his papers (and it happened several times)
he was sure to blunder ; and endeavoured, in an ex-
ceedingly confused and embarrassed manner, to
gather up the broken thread as well as he could. He
is a palpable Arian in his ideas of Christ's person ;
320 REV. AUGUSTUS TOPLADY.
and appears to be a thorough-paced Socinian, as far
as concerns the doctrine of atonement. Yet, God
forbid that I should judge and condemn him. To
his own Master he must stand or fall. But I must
observe two things : 1. I bless the grace of God, for
giving me eyes to see, and a heart to value the in-
estimable truths of his holy gospel : 2, I never
prized our good old liturgy, and the precious doc-
trines of the Reformation, more than on hearing
Mr. Lindsey's liturgy and sermon yesterday. " No
man" (as our Lord observes) "having drank old
wine, straightway desireth new : for he saith, the
old is better."
Mr. Lindsey's Arian meeting is held in Essex-
street, up one pair of stairs, in the house called
Essex House. It is a long narrow room (which, if
filled, would hold about two hundred people) where
auctions (particularly for books) used to be held.
He seems to be a man of much personal modesty
and diffidence; and, I verily believe, acts upon
principle. But he has no popular talents ; no
pathos, no dignity, no imagination, no elegance,
no elocution. He must, unavoidably, soon sink
into obscurity, when the novelty of his secession
begins to subside, and when his Arian friends are
weary of puffing him off in the newspapers. Take
my word for it (and I am very glad I can truly
have it to say) the church of England has nothing
to fear from a gentleman of Mr. Lindsey's slender
abilities. He can neither thunder nor lighten ; but
crawls on quite in the hum-drum way ; and is no
more qualified, either by nature or attainments, to
REV. JOHN NEWTON. 321
figure at the bead of a party, than I am to under-
take the command of a navy. One of my company
(for a whole coach ful of us went) said to me, after
service was over : '' Well, T suppose you will call
Mr. Lindsey's discourse a piece of arrant Lindsey-
woolsey." " No, indeed,'' replied I : "it was mere
Lindsey throughout: absolute Arianism, Socinian-
ism, and Pelagianism, without one thread of the
contrary from first to last."
Augustus Toplady.
LETTER CCCCIV.
Rev. Johx Newton to 3Ir. W . The great Physician.
31 Y DEAR Sir, June 2, 1772.
It is true — I confess it. I have been very naughty.
I ought not to have been so long in answering your
last kind letter. Now I hope you have forgiven
me. And therefore I at once recover my confidence
without troubling you with such excuses as the old
man, ever desirous of justifying himself, would
suggest.
The illness under which I have laboured longer
than the man mentioned by John, is far from being
removed. Yet I am bound to speak well of my
Physician : he treats me with great tenderness ;
assures me that it shall not be to death, but to the
glory of God ; and bids me in due time expect a
perfect cure. I know too much of him (though I
VOL. ill. ' Y
352 REV. JOHN NEWTON.
know but little) to doubt either his skill or his pro-
mise. It is true I suffer sad relapses, and have
been more than once brought in appearance to
death's door since I have been under his care; but
this fault has not been his, but my own. I am a
strange refractory patient ; have too often neglect-
ed his prescriptions, and broken the regimen he
appoints me to observe. This perverseness, joined
to the exceeding obstinacy of my disorders, would
have caused me to be turned out as an incurable
long ago, had I been under any hand but his.
But, indeed, there is none like him. When I have
brought myself low, he has still helped me. Bless-
ed be his name, I am yet alive ; yea, I shall ere
long- be well ; but not here. The air which I
breathe is unfavourable to my constitution, and
nourishes my disease. He knows this, and in-
tends, at a proper season, to remove me into a
better climate, where there are no fogs nor damps,
where the inhabitants shall no more say, I am sick.
He has brought my judgment to acquiesce with
his; and sometimes I long to hear him say. Arise
and depart. But, to tell you the truth, I am much
more frequently pleased with the thought of stay-
ing a little and a little longer here, tliough in my
present situation I am kept alive merely by dint of
medicine; and, though his medicines are all salu-
tary, they are not all pleasant. Now and then he
gives me a pleasant cordial; but many things
which there is a need-be for my taking frequently,
are bitter and unpalatable. It is strange that know-
ing this is, and must be the case, I am not more
REV. JOHN NEWTON. 323
desirous of my dismission. I hope, however, one
thing that makes me willing to stay is, that I may
point him out as a Physician of value to others.
I am, my dear Sir,
Your affectionate and obliged servant,
J. Newton.
LETTER CCCCV.
Rev. John Newton to Rev. Mr. R . Fanatical abuse
of Scripture exposed and condemned.
Dear Sir, Feb. 22, 1774.
Your letter by last post surprised and grieved me.
We knew nothing of the subjefct, though Mrs.''* * *
remembers, when * * * was here, a hint or two
were dropped which she did not understand ; but
no name was mentioned.
This instance shows the danger of leaning to
impressions. Texts of Scripture, brought power-
fully to the heart, are very desirable and pleasant,
if their tendency is to humble us, to give us a more
feeling sense of the preciousness of Christ, or of
the doctrines of grace; if they make sin more
hateful, enliven our regard to the means, or increase
our confidence in the power and faithfulness of
God. But if they are understood as intimating
our path of duty in particular circumstances, or
confirming us in purposes we may have already
formed, not otherwise clearly warranted by the ge-
neral strain of the word, or by the leadings of Pro-
Y 2
324 REV. JOHN NEWTON.
vidence, they are for the most part ensnaring, and
always to be suspected. Nor does their coming
into the mind at the time of prayer give them more
authority in this respect. When the mind is in-
tent upon any subject, the imagination is often
watchful to catch at any thing which may seem to
countenance the favourite pursuit. It is too com-
mon to ask counsel of the Lord when we have al-
ready secretly determined for ourselves ; and in
this disposition we may easily be. deceived by the
sound of a text of Scripture, which, detached from
the passage in which it stands, may seem remark-
ably to tally with our wishes. Many have been de-
ceived this way ; and sometimes, when the event
has shown them they were mistaken, it has opened
a door for great distress, and Satan has found occa-
sion to make them doubt even of their most solid
experiences.
I have sometimes talked to * * * upon this sub-
ject, though without the least suspicion of any
thing like what has happened. As to the present
case, it may remind us all of our weakness. I
would recommend prayer, patience, much tender-
ness towards her, joined with faithful expostula-
tion. Wait a little while, and I trust the Lord
who loves her will break the snare. 1 am per-
suaded, in her better judgment, she would dread
the thoughts of doing wrong ; and I hope and be-
lieve the good Shepherd, to whom she has often
committed her soul and her ways, will interpose to
resJ;ore and set her to rights.
REV. JOHN NEWTON. 325
T am sorry you think any of whom you have
hoped well are going back; but be not discou-
raged. I say again, pray and wait, and hope
the best. It is common for young professors to
have a slack time ; it is almost necessary, that they
may be more sensible of the weakness and deceit-
fulness of their hearts, and be more humbled in
future, when the Lord shall have healed their
breaches, and restored their souls. We join love
to you and yours. Pray for us.
I am, &c.
J. Newton.
LETTER CCCCVI.
Rev. John Newton to Rev, Mr. B . The virtue of
an if.
Dear Sir, August, 1778.
If the Lord affords health ; if the weather be toler-
able ; if no unforeseen change takes place ; if no
company comes in upon me to-night, (which some-
times unexpectedly happens) ; with these provisos,
Mr. S and I have engaged to travel to * * * on
Monday next, and hope to be with you by or be-
fore eleven o'clock.
In such a precarious world, it is needful to form
our plans at two days' distance, with precaution
and exceptions. (') However, if it be the Lord's
will to bring us together, and if the purposed in-
(') James, iv. 13.
326 REV. JOB ORTON.
terview be for his glory and our good, then I am
sure nothing shall prevent it. And who in his
right wits would wish either to visit or be visited
upon any other terms ? O, if we could but be
pleased with his will, we might be pleased from
morning to-night, and every day in the year !
Pray for a blessing upon our coming together.
It would be a pity to walk ten miles to pick straws,
or to come with our empty vessels upon our heads,
saying, We have found no water.
I am, &c.
J. Newton.
LETTER CCCCVIT.
Rev. Job Orton to Rev. T. Stedman. Singular causes
for thankfulness.
Dear Doctor, Feb. 17, 1776.
About the time your last letter arrived, I had, for
some particular reasons, been thinking how many
mercies I had to be thankful for; and it led me to
add largely to the catalogue. I thank God,
that I am not very rich ; that I am not a lord, nor
a lord's son, nor a lord's chaplain or dependent ;
that I have no connexion with great people; that I
am not a double-chinned doctor, with two or three
fat livings or sinecures, living upon the sweat and
brains of a poor curate ; that I never worshipped a
golden calf for preferment and gain, nor made the
ministry a spiritual traffic; that I have done what
DR. JOHNSON. 32 i
I could to support, assist, and encourage my poor
brethren; that I never was in danger of substitut-
ing modes and forms, and externals, for the life
and power of religion ; but learned from Dr.
Doddridge a different judgment, relish, and con-
duct : that amidst the corruptions of the clergy of
your church and ours, there are many upright,
pious, zealous divines, who shine as lights in the
world, who, though they do not meet with de-
served preferment, because they will not desecrate
themselves to seek it in the usual way, will make a
glorious figure in the church triumphant. Among
this number I reckon Dr. Stonehouse, and therefore
esteem and honour him, however others neglect him.
I know not whether I should wish you a parish in
B , for what good can you hope to do among
such a people ? I wish you were somewhere, where
your labours would be more valued and more suc-
cessful.
LETTER CCCCVIII.
Dr. Johnson to Mr. Boswell, while at Utrecht.
Dear Sir, London, Dec. 8, 1 763.
You are not to think yourself forgotten, or crimi-
nally neglected, that you have had yet no letter
from me. I love to see my friends, to hear from
them, to talk to them, or to talk of them ; but it is
not without a considerable effort of resolution that
I prevail upon myself to write. I would not, how-
^:;^3 DR. JOHNSON.
ever, gratify my own indolence by the omission of
any important duty, or any office of real kindness.
To tell you that I am or am not well ; that I
have or have not been in the country; that I drank
your health in the room in which we sat last to-
gether, and that your acquaintance continue to
speak of you with their former kindness, topics
with which those letters are commonly filled which
are written only for the sake of writing, I seldom
shall think worth communicating; but, if I can
have it in my power to calm any harassing dis-
quiet, to excite any virtuous desire, to rectify any
important opinion, or fortify any generous resolu-
tion, you need not doubt but I shall at least wish
to prefer the pleasure of gratifying a friend much
less esteemed than yourself, before the gloomy calm
of idle vacancy. Whether I shall easily arrive at
an exact punctuality of correspondence, I cannot
tell. I shall, at present, expect that you will receive
this in return for two which I have had from you.
The first, indeed, gave me an account so hopeless
of the state of your mind, that it hardly admitted
or deserved an answer ; by the second I wjis much
better pleased ; and the pleasure will still be in-
creased by such a narrative of the progress of your
studies as may evince the continuance of an equal
and rational application of your mind to some
useful inquiry.
You will, perhaps, wish to ask, what study I
would recommend. I shall not speak of theology,
because it ought not to be considered as a question,
whether you shall endeavour to know the will of God.
DR. JOHNSON. 329
I shall, therefore, consider only such studies as
we are at liberty to pursue or to neglect ; and of
these I know not how you will make a better choice,
than by studying the civil law, as your father
advises, and the ancient languages, as you had
determined for yourself: at least, resolve, while
you remain in any settled residence, to spend
a certain number of hours every day among your
books. The dissipation of thought, of which you
complain, is nothing more than the vacillation
of a mind suspended between different motives,
and changing its direction as any motive gains or
Igoses strength. If you can but kindle in your
mind any strong desire, if you can but keep predo-
minant any wish for some particular excellence or
attainment, the gusts of imagination will break
away, without any effect upon your conduct, and
commonly without any traces left^upon the memory.
There lurks, perhaps, in every human heart a
flesire of distinction, which inclines every man first
to hope, and then to believe, that nature has given
him something peculiar to himself. This vanity
makes one mind nurse aversions, and another
actuate desires, till they rise by art much above
their original state of power ; and as affection, in
time improves to habit, they at last tyrannize over
him who at first encouraged them only for show.
Every desire is a viper in the bosom, who, while he
was chill, was hannless ; but, when warmth gave
him strength, exerted it in poison. You know
a gentleman, who, when first he set his foot in the
gay world, as he prepared himself to whirl in the
330 DR. JOHNSON.
vortex of pleasure, imagined a total indifference
and universal negligence to be the most agreeable
concomitants of youth, and the strongest indica-
tion of an airy temper, and a quick apprehension.
Vacant to every object, and sensible of every im-
pulse, he thought that all appearance of diligence
would deduct something from the reputation of
genius ; and hoped that he should appear to attain^
amidst all the ease of carelessness, and the tumult
of diversion, that knowledge and those accomplish-
ments which mortals of the common fabric obtain
only by mute abstraction and solitary drudgery.
He tried this scheme of life awhile, was made
weary of it by his sense and his virtue : he then
wished to return to his studies; and finding long
habits of idleness and pleasure harder to be cured
than he expected, still willing to retain his claim to
some extraordinary prerogatives, resolved the com-
mon consequences of irregularity into an unalter-
able decree of destiny, and concluded that nature
had originally formed him incapable of rational
employment.
Let all such fancies, illusive and destructive, be
banished henceforward from your thoughts for
ever. Resolve and keep your resolution; choose
and pursue your choice. If you spend this day in
study, you will find yourself still more able to
study to-morrow ; not that you are to expect that
you shall at once obtain a complete victory. De-
pravity is not very easily overcome,
Resolution will sometimes relax, and diligence
will sometimes be interrupted ; but let no acci-
DR. JOHNSON. 331
dental surprise or deviation, whether short or long,
dispose you to despondency. Consider these fail-
ings as incident to all mankind. Begin again
where you left off, and endeavour to avoid the se-
ducements that prevailed over you before.
This, my dear Boswell, is advice which, per-
haps, has been often given you, and given you
without effect. But this advice, if you will not
take from others, you must take from your own re-
flections, if you purpose to do the duties of the
station to which the bounty of Providence has
called you.
Let me have a long letter from you as soon as
you can. I hope you continue your journal, and
enrich it with many observations upon the country
in which you reside. It will be a favour if you
can get me any books in the Frisick language, and
can inquire how the poor are maintained in the
seven provinces.
I am, dear Sir,
Your most affectionate servant,
S. Johnson.
LETTER CCCCIX.
Dr. John son to Mrs. Thrale. A well deserved rebuke.
The change which the approach of death produces in our
views of eternity.
Madam, London, Blarch 20, 1784.
Your last letter had something of tenderness. The
accounts which you have had of my danger and
332 DR. E. YOUNG.
distress were, I suppose, not aggravated. I have
been confined ten weeks with an asthma and
dropsy. But I am now better. God has in his
mercy granted me a reprieve ; lor how much time
his mercy must determine.
Write to me no more about dying with a grace.
When you feel what I have felt in approaching
eternity — in fear of soon hearing the sentence of
which there is no revocation — you will know the
folly : my wish is, that you may know it sooner. The
distance between the grave and the remotest part of
human longevity is but a very little ; and of that
little^ no path is certain. You know all this, and I
thought that I knew it too ; but I know it now with
a new conviction. May that new conviction not be
vain ! 1 am now cheerful. I hope this approach to
recovery is a token of the Divine mercy. My friends
continue their kindness. I give a dinner to-mor-
row.
LETTER CCCCX.
Dr. E. Young (author of the Night Thoughts) to Mr.
RiCHARDSOK. In the prospect of speedy dissolution.
My dearest Friend, Bath, Jan. 3, 1758.
. . . . I bless God, I at last find benefit
from the waters, as to appetite, rest, and spirits. I
DR. E. YOUNG. 333
have now for three nights had pretty good rest,
after two sleepless months ; and I believe that per-
severing in the waters is a point, at least in my
complaint.
But at my time of day, how dare I to complain
of small things, on the brink of the grave, and at
the door of eternity ! What a mercy that I am
still here ! What a fall have I seen around me ! I
was here twenty years ago, and scarce find one of
the generation alive.
I rejoice, 1 greatly rejoice, to hear that you are
better. Might not Bath be as much your friend as
mine ? In some points our cases are similar.
I think you told me, in a letter, that you once
found benefit from it: if you could try again, I
would attend you to your last hour.
But, say you, are you idle all this time ? No :
I am on a great work. How great a work is it to
learn to die with safety and comfort ? This is, as
it should be, my business, unless I think it too much
to spend my superannuated hours on that which
ought to have been the business of my whole life.
T am now (as it is high time) setting my house in
order ; and therefore desire you to send by the car-
rier the parcel of sermons which were packed up
when I was in town, that I may commit them to
the flames.
And please to favour me with my full and long
debt to you ; for I am in pain to have it discharg-
ed.
That the wing of an indulgent Providence may
334 DR. E. YOUNG.
be ever stretched over you and yours, is the earnest
prayer of,
Dear sir, yours,
E. Young.
LETTER CCCCXI.
Dr. Young to Mr. Richardson under the same circum-
stances.
Dear Sir, April 30, 1758.
I gratefully accept the kind offer you made me of
being under your roof for some days, while I trans-
act an affair in town. I shall be with you on Mon-
day next, God willing ; that God willing, who this
moment has a thousand agents at work for my
sake, of which I know nothing, though they are all
within me ; and should any one of them cease to
work, it would prove my instant death. I^ mean
the animal functions. Yet how merrj^ should I
make the world, should they hear me say, "If it
please God, I will rise from my seat," — or, " I will
open my mouth ;" — or, " If it please God, I will
set to paper." So ignorant are our wise ones of
God and man.
I am, my dear sir, yours,
E. Young.
WILLIAM COWPEIi, ESQ. 335
LETTER CCCCXT.
William Cowper, Esq. to Lady Hesketh. Character
of too many who profess Christianity. Beauty and sub-
limity of the language of the Sciiptures.
M\' DEAR Cousin, Huntingdon, August 1, 1765.
If I was to measure your obligation to write by my
own desire to hear from you, I should call you an
idle correspondent if a post went by without bring-
ing me a letter, but I am not so unreasonable ; on
the contrary, I think myself very happy in hear-
ing from you upon your own terms, as you find
most convenient. Your short history of my family
is a very acceptable part of your letter : if they
really interest themselves in my welfare, it is a
mark of their great charity for one who has been a
disappointment and a vexation to them ever since
he has been of consequence to be either. My
friend'^ the major's behaviour to me, after all he
suffered by my abandoning his interest and my
own in so miserable a manner, is a noble instance
of generosity, and true greatness of mind : and in-
deed I know no man in whom those qualities are
more conspicuous; one need only furnish him
with an opportunity to display them, and they are
always ready to show themselves in his words and
actions, and even in his countenance, at a mo-
ment's warning. I have great reason to be thank-
ful — I have lost none of my acquaintance but those
whom I determined not to keep. I am sorry this
336 WILLIAM COWPER, ESQ.
•
class is so numerous. What would I not give, that
every friend I have in the world were not almost
but altogether Christians ! My dear cousin, I am
half afraid to talk in this style, lest I should seem
to indulge in a censorious humour, instead of hojD-
ing, as I ought, the best for all men. But what
can be said against ocular proof? and what is hope
when it is built upon presumption ? To use the
most holy name in the universe for no purpose, or
a bad one, contrary to his own express command-
ment; to pass the day, and the succeeding days,
w eeks, and months, and years, without one act of
private devotion, one confession of our sins, or one
thanksgiving for the numberless blessings we en-
joy; to hear the word of God in public with a
distracted attention, or with none at all; to absent
ourselves voluntarily from the blessed communion,
and to live in the total neglect of it, though our
Saviour has charged it upon us with an express in-
junction, are the common and ordinary liberties
which the generality of professors allow them-
selves : and what is this but to live without God in
the world ? Many causes may be assigned for this
antichristian spirit, so prevalent among Chris-
tians ; but one of the principal I take to be their
utter forgetfulness that they have the word of God
in their possession.
My friend Sir William Russell was distantly re-
lated to a very accomplished man, who, though he
never believed the gospel, admired the Scriptures
as the sublimest compositions in the world, and
read them often. I have been intimate myself
WILLIAM COWPER, ESQ. 337
with a man of fine taste, who has confessed to me
that, though he could not subscribe to the truth of
Christianity itself, yet he never could read St.
Luke's account of our Saviour's appearance to the
two disciples going to Emmaus, without being
wonderfully affected by it; and he thought that if
the stamp of divinity was anywhere to be found
in Scripture, it was strongly marked and visibly
impressed upon that passage. If these men, whose
hearts were chilled with the darkness of infidelity,
could find such charms in the mere style of the
Scripture, what must they find there, whose eye
penetrates deeper than the letter, and who firmly
believe themselves interested in all the invaluable
privileges of the gospel ! " He that believeth on
me is passed from death unto life," though it be as
plain a sentence as words can form, has more
beauties in it for such a person than all the labours
antiquity can boast of. If my poor man of taste,
whom I have just mentioned, had searched a little
further, he might have found other parts of the
sacred history as strongly marked with the cha-
racters of divinity as that he mentioned. The para-
ble of the prodigal son, the most beautiful fiction
that ever was invented ; our Saviour's speech to
his disciples, with which he closes his earthly
ministration, full of tfie sublimest dignity and ten-
derest aflfection, surpass every thing that I ever
read, and, like the spirit by which they were dic-
tated, fly directly to the heart. If the Scripture
did not disdain all affectation of ornament, one
should call these, and such as these, the orna-
VOL. HI. z
3o8 WILLIAM COWf'ER, ESQ.
mental parts of it ; but the matter of it is that upon
which it principally stakes its credit with us, and
the style, however excellent and peculiar to itself,
is only one of those many external evidences by
which it recommends itself to our belief.
I shall be very much obliged to you for the book
you mention ; you could not have sent me any
thing that would have been more welcome, unless
you had sent me your own meditations instead of
them.
Yours,
"\Y. C.
LETTER CCCCXIII.
William Cowper, Esq. to Lady Hesketh. Remarks
on Pearsall's Meditations. Character and effects of faith.
Huntingdon, Aug. 17, ITdo.
You told me, my dear cousin, that I need not fear
writing too often, and you perceive I take you at
your word. At present, however, I shall do little
more than thank you for the Meditations, which I
admire exceedingly: the author of them manifest-
ly loved the truth with an undissembled affection,
had made a great progress in the knowledge of it,
and experienced all the happiness that naturally
results from that noblest of all attainments. There
is one circumstance, which he gives us frequent
occasion to observe in him, which I believe will
WILL LI AM COW PER, ESQ. 339
ever be found in the philosophy of every true
Christian. I mean the eminent rank which he as-
signs to faith among the virtues, as the source and
parent of them all. There is nothing more infal-
libly true than this, and doubtless it is with a view
to the purifying and sanctifying nature of a true
faith, that our Saviour says, " He that believed in
me hath everlasting life," with many other expres-
sions to the same purpose. Considered in this
light, no wonder it has the power of salvation as-
cribed to it ! Considered in any other, we must
suppose it to operate like an oriental talisman, if
it obtains for us the least advantage; which is an
affront to him who insists upon our having it, and
will on no other terms admit us to his favour. I
mention this distinguishing article in his Reflec-
tions the rather, because it serves for a solid founda-
tion to the distinction I made in my last, between
the specious professor and the true believer, between
him whose faith is his Sunday-suit and him who
never puts it off at all — a distinction I am a little
fearful sometimes of making, because it is a heavy
stroke upon the practice of more than half the
Christians in the world.
My dear cousin, I told you I read the book with
great pleasure, which may be accounted for from its
own merit, but perhaps it pleased me the more be-
cause you had travelled the same road before me.
You know there is such a pleasure as this, which
would want great explanation to some folks, being
perhaps a mystery to those whose hearts are a
z 2
340
WILLIAM COWPER, ESQ.
mere muscle, and serve only for the purposes of an
even circulation.
W.C.
LETTER CCCCXIV.
Wji-liam Cowper, Esq. to Mrs. Cowper. On the pro-
bability of our knowing each other in heaven.
My dear Cousin, April 17, 176C.
As in matters unattainable by reason, and unre-
vealed in the Scripture, it is impossible to argue at
all ; so, in matters concerning which reason can only
give a probable guess, and the Scripture has made
no explicit discovery, it is, though not impossible
to argue at all, yet impossible to argue to any cer-
tain conclusion. This seems to me to be the very
case with the point in question — reason is able to
form many plausible conjectures concerning the
possibility of our knowing each other in a future
state ; and the Scripture has, here and there, fa-
voured us with an expression that looks at least
like a slight intimation of it; but because a con-
jecture can never amount to a proof, and a slight
intimation cannot be construed into a positive as-
sertion, therefore I think we can never come to any
absolute conclusion upon the subject. We may
indeed reason about the plausibility of our conjec-
tures, and we may discuss, with great industry and
shrewdness of argument, those passages in the
WILLIAM COWPER, ESQ. 341
Scripture which seem in favour of the opinion ;
but still, no certain means having been afforded
us, no certain end can be attained ; and after all
that can be said, it will still be doubtful whether
we shall know each other or not.
As to arguments founded upon human reason
only, it would be easy to muster up a much greater
number on the affirmative side of the question,
than it would be worth my while to write, or yours
to read. Let us see therefore what the Scripture
says, or seems to say, towards the proof of it ; and
of this kind of argument also I shall insert but a
f^w of those which seem to me to be the fairest
and clearest for the purpose. For after all, a dis-
putant on either side of this question is in danger
of that censure of our blessed Lord*s, " Ye do err,
not knowing the Scripture, nor the power of
God."
As to parables, I know it has been said, in the
dispute concerning the intermediate state, that they
are not argumentative; but this having been con-
troverted by very wise and good men, and the pa-
rable of Dives and Lazarus having been used by
such to prove an intermediate state, I see not why
it may not be as fairly used for the proof of any
other matter which it seems fairly to imply. In
this parable we see that Dives is represented as
knowing Lazarus, and Abraham as knowing them
both, and the discourse between them is entirely
concerning their respective characters, and circum-
stances upon earth. Here therefore our Saviour
seems to countenance the notion of a mutual
342 WILLIAM COWPER, ESQ.
knowledge and recollection; and if a soul that has
perished shall know the soul that is saved, surely
the heirs of salvation shall know and recollect
each other.
In the first Epistle to the Thessalonians, the
second chapter, and nineteenth verse, St. Paul
says, " What is our hope, or joy, or crown of
rejoicing? Are not even ye in the presence of
our Lord Jesus Christ at his coming ? For ye are
our glory and our joy."
As to the hope which the apostle has formed
concerning them, he himself refers the accom-
plishment of it to the coming of Christ, meaning
that then he should receive the recompense of his
labours in their behalf; his joy and glory he re-
fers likewise to the same period, both which would
result from the sight of such numbers redeemed
by the blessing of God upon his ministration,
when he should present them before the great
Judge, and say, in the words of a greater than
himself, " Lo ! I, and the children whom thou
hast given me." This seems to imply that the
apostle should know the converts, and the converts
the apostle, at least at the day of judgment ; and if
then, why not afterwards ?
See also that fourth chapter of the Epistle, verses
13, 14, 16, which I have not room to transcribe.
Here the apostle comforts them under their affliction
for their deceased brethren, exhorting them "not
to sorrow as without hope;" and what is the hope
by which he teaches them to support their spirits ?
Even this, " That them which sleep in Jesus shall
WILLIA.M CUWI'ER, ESQ. 343
God brino^ with him." In other words, and by a
fair paraphrase surely, telling them they are only
taken from them for a season, and that they
should receive them at their resurrection.
If you can take off the force of these texts, my
dear cousin, you will go a great way towards
shaking my opinion ; if not, I think they must go
a great way towards shaking yours.
The reason why I did not send you my opinion
of Pearsall was, because I had not then read him ;
I have read him since, and like him much, espe-
cially the latter part of him ; but you have whetted
my curiosity to see the last letter by tearing it
out : unless you can give me a good reason why I
should not see it, I shall inquire for the book the
first time I go to Cambridge. Perhaps I may be
partial to Hervey for the sake of his other writings ;
but I cannot give Pearsall the preference to him,
for I think him one of the most scriptural writers
in the world.
Yours,
W.C.
LETTER CCCCXV.
William Cowper, Esq. to 31rs. Cowper, on the same
subject.
My dear Cousin, April 18, 1766.
Having gone as far as I thought needful to justify
the opinion of our meeting and knowing each
344 WILLIAM COWPER, ESQ.
Other hereafter, I find, upon reflection, that I have
done but half my business, and that one of the
questions you proposed remains entirely unconsi-
dered, viz. " Whether the things of our present
state will not be of too low and mean a nature to
engage our thoughts, or make a part of our com-
munications in heaven."
The common and ordinary occurrences of life no
doubt, and even the ties of kindred, and of all tem-
poral interests, will be entirely discarded from
amongst that happy society; and possibly even the
remembrance of them done away. But it does not
therefore follow that our spiritual concerns, even in
this life, will be forgotten ; neither do I think that
they can ever appear trifling to us in any the most
distant period of eternity. God, as you say in re-
ference to the Scripture, will be all in all. But does
not that expression mean that, being admitted to so
near an approach to our heavenly Father and Re-
deemer, our whole nature, the soul and all its
faculties, will be employed in praising and ador-
ing him ? Doubtless however this will be the
case; and if so, will it not furnisb out a glorious
theme of thanksgiving, to recollect " The rock
whence we were hewn, and the hole of the pit
whence we were digged ?" To recollect the time
when our faith, which under the tuition and nur-
ture of the Holy Spirit has produced such a plen-
tiful harvest of immortal bliss, was as a grain of
mustard-seed, small in itself, promising but little
fruit, and producing less ? To recollect the vari-
ous attempts that were made upon it, by the world.
WILLIAM COVVPER, ESQ. 345
the flesh, and the devil, and its various triumphs
over all, by the assistance of God, through our
Lord Jesus Christ? At present, whatever our
convictions may be of the sinfulness and corrup-
tion of our nature, we can make but a very imper-
fect estimate either of our weakness or our guilt.
Then, no doubt, we shall understand the full value
of the wonderful salvation wrought out for us:
and it seems reasonable to suppose, that, in order
to form a just idea of our redemption, we shall be
able to form a just one of the danger we have es-
caped; when we know how weak and frail we
were, surely we shall be more able to render due
praise and honour to his strength who fought for
us; when we know completely the hatefulness of
sin in the sight of God, and how deeply we were
tainted by it, we shall know how to value the blood
by which we were cleansed, as we ought. The
twenty- four elders, in the fifth of the Revelations,
give glory to God for their redemption out of every
kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation. This
surely implies a retrospect to their respective con-
ditions upon earth, and that each remembered out
of what particular kindred and nation he had been
redeemed ; and if so, then surely the minutest cir-
cumstance of their redemption did not escape
their memory. They who triumph over the beast,
in the fifteenth chapter, sing the song of Moses,
the servant of God ; and what was that song ? A
sublime record of Israel's deliverance and the de-
struction of her enemies in the Red Sea, typical
34G WILLIAM COWPEIl, ESQ.
no doubt of the song which the redeemed in Sion
shall sing to celebrate their own salvation, and the
defeat of their spiritual enemies. This, again, im-
plies a recollection of the dangers they had before
encountered, and the supplies of strength and ar-
dour they had in every emergency received from
the great Deliverer out of all. These quotations
do not indeed prove that their warfare upon earth
includes a part of their converse with each other;
but they prove that it is a theme not unworthy to
be heard even before the throne of God, and there-
fore it cannot be unfit for reciprocal communica-
tion.
But you doubt whether there is any communi-
cation between the blessed at all ; neither do I
recollect any Scripture that proves it, or that bears
any relation to the subject. But reason seems to
require it so peremptorily, that a society without
social intercourse seems to be a solecism, and a
contradiction in terms, and the inhabitants of those
regions are called, you know, in Scripture, an in-
numerable company, and an assembly, which
seems to convey the idea of society as clearly as
the word itself. Human testimony weighs but lit-
tle in matters of this sort, but let it have all the
weight it can : I know no greater names in di-
vinity than Watts and Doddridge ; they were
both of this opinion, and I send you the words of
the latter : —
" Our companions in glory may probably assist
us by their wise and good observations, when we
WILLIAM COWPER, ESQ. 347
come to make the providence of God, here upon
earth, under the guidance and direction of our
Lord Jesus Christ, the subject of our mutual con-
verse."
Thus, my dear cousin, I have spread out my rea«
sons before you for an opinion which, whether ad-
mitted or denied, affects not the state or interest
of our soul. May our Creator, Redeemer, and
Sanctifier, conduct us into his own Jerusalem ;
where there shall be no night, neither any dark-
ness at all ; where we shall be free even from in-
nocent error, and perfect in the light of the know-
ledge of God in the face of Jesus Christ.
Yours faithfully,
W.C.
LETTER CCCCXVI.
William Cowper, Esa. to Mrs. Cowper, on the same
subject.
I\Iy dear Cousix, Huntingdon, Sept. 3, I76C.
It is reckoned, you know, a great achievement to si-
lence an opponent in disputation ; and your silence
was of so long a continuance, that I might well be-
gin to please myself with the apprehension of
having accomplished so arduous a matter. To be
serious, however, I am not sorry that what I have
said concerning our knowledge of each other in a
future state, has a little inclined you to the affirma-
tive. For though the redeemed of the Lord shall
be sure of being as happy in that state as infinite
318 WILLIAM COWPER, ESQ.
power, employed by infinite goodness, can make
them, and therefore it may seem immaterial whe-
ther we shall, or shall not, recollect each other
hereafter, yet our present happiness at least is a
little interested in the question. A parent, a friend,
a wife, must needs, I think, feel a little heart-ache
at the thought of an eternal separation from the
objects of her regard; and not to know them,
when she meets them in another life, or never to
meet them at all, amounts, though not altogether,
yet nearly to the same thing. Remember them I
think she needs must. To hear that they are
happy, will indeed be no small addition to her
own felicity; but to see them so, will surely be
a greater. Thus at least it appears to our present
human apprehension; consequently, therefore, to
think that when we leave them, we lose them for
ever, that we must remain eternally ignorant whe-
ther they that were flesh of our flesh, and bone of our
bone, partake with us of celestial glory, or are dis-
inherited of their heavenly portion, must shed a
dismal gloom over all our present connexions.
For my own part, this life is such a momentary
thing, and all its interests have so shrunk in my
estimation, since by the grace of our Lord Jesus
Christ I became attentive to the things of another,
that, like a worm in the bud of all my friendships
and affections, this very thought would eat out the
heart of them all, had I a thousand ; and were
their date to terminate with this life, I think I
should have no inclination to cultivate and im-
prove such a fugitive business. Yet friendship is
WILLIAM COWPER, ESQ. 349
necessary to happiness here ; and built upon Chris-
tian principles, upon which only it can stand, is a
thing even of religious sanction — for what is that
love which the Holy Spirit, speaking by St. John,
so much inculcates, but friendship ? the only love
which deserves the name; a love which can toil,
and watch, and deny itself, and go to death for its
brother. Worldly friendships are a poor weed
compared with this : and even this union of spirit
in the bond of peace would suffer, in my mind at
least, could I think it were only coeval with our
earthly mansions. It may possibly argue great
weakness in me, in this instance, to stand so mucli
in need of future hopes to support me in the dis-
charge of present duty. But so it is — I am far, I
know, very far from being perfect in Christian
love, or any other divine attainment, and am there-
fore unwilling to forego whatever may help me in
my progress.
You are so kind as to inquire after my health,
for which reason I must tell you, what otherwise
would not be worth mentioning, that I have lately
been just enough indisposed to convince me that not
only human life in general, but mine in particular,
hangs by a slender thread. I am stout enough
in appearance, yet a little illness demolishes me.
I have had a severe shake, and the building is not
so firm as it was. But I bless God for it with all
my heart. If the inner man be but strengthened
day by day, as, I hope, under the renewing influ-
ences of the Holy Ghost it will be, no matter how
soon the outward is dissolved. He who has in a
350 WILLIAM COWPER, ESQ.
manner raised me from the dead, in a literal sense,
has given me the grace, I trust, to be ready at the
shortest notice to surrender up to him that life
which I have twice received from him. Whether
I live or die, I desire it may be to his glory, and it
must be to my happiness. I thank God that I
have those amongst my kindred to whom I can
write without reserve my sentiments upon this
subject, as I do to you. A letter upon any other
subject is more insipid to me than ever my task
was when a schoolboy ; and say not this in vain
glory, God forbid ! but to show you what the Al-
mighty, whose name I am unworthy to mention,
has done for me, the chief of sinners. Once he
was a terror to me, and his service, oh ! what a
weariness it was. Now I can say I love him, and
his holy name, and I am never so happy as when
I speak of his mercies to me.
Yours, dear cousin,
W.C.
LETTER CCCCXVIT.
William Cowper, Esq. to Rev. W. Unwin. Observa-
tions on religious characters.
My dear William,
I say amen, with all my heart, to your observa-
tion on religious characters. Men who profess
themselves adepts in mathematical knowledge, in
WILLIAM COWPER, ESQ. 351
astronomy, or jurisprudence, are generally as well
qualified as they would appear. The reason may
be, that they are always liable to detection, should
they attempt to impose upon mankind, and there-
fore take care to be what they pretend. In reli-
gion alone, a profession is often slightly taken up,
and slovenly carried on, because forsooth candour
and charity require us to hope the best, and to
judge favourably of our neighbour, and because it
is easy to deceive the ignorant, who are a great majo-
rity, upon this subject. Let a man attach himself
to a particular party, contend furiously for what
are properly called evangelical doctrines, and en-
list himself under the banner of some popular
preacher, and the business is done. Behold a
Christian! a saint! a phoenix! — In the meantime
perhaps his heart, and his temper, and even his
conduct, are unsanctified ; possibly less exempla-
ry than those of some avowed infidels. No
matter — ^he can talk — he has the shibboleth of the
true church — the Bible in his pocket, and a head
well stored with notions. But the quiet, humble,
modest, and peaceable person, who is in his prac-
tice what the other is only in his profession, who
hates a noise, and therefore makes none, who
knowing the snares that are in the world, keeps
himself as much out of it as he can, and never
enters it, but when duty calls, and even then with
fear and trembling — is the Christian that will al-
ways stand highest in the estimation of those, who
bring all characters to the test of true wisdom, and
judge of the tree by its fruit.
352 WILLLTAM COWPER, ESQ.
YoQ are desirous of visiting the prisoners; you
wish to administer to their necessities, and to give
them instruction. This task you will undertake,
though you expect to encounter many things in the
peformance of it, that will give you pain. Now this
I can understand — you will not listen to the sen-
sibilities that distress yourself, but to the distresses
of others. Therefore, when I meet with one of the
specious praters above mentioned, I will send him
to Stock, that by your diffidence he may be taught
a lesson of modesty ; by your generosity, a little
feeling for others ; and by your general conduct,
in short, to chatter less, and to do more.
Yours, my dear friend,
W. C.
LETTER CCCCXVIII.
William Cowper, Esq. to Rev. W. Unwin. Remon-
strance on the subject of Sunday routs.
My dear Friexd, March 7, 1782.
What a medly are our public prints: half ihe page
filled with the ruin of the country, and the other
half filled with the vices and pleasures of it — here
an island taken, and there a new comedy — here an
empire lost, and there an Italian opera, or a lord's
rout on a Sunday !
" May it please your lordship! I am an Eng-
lishman, and must stand or fall with the nation.
WILLIAM COWPER, ESQ. 353
Religion, its true palladium, has been stolen
away ; and it is crumbling into dust. Sin ruins
us, the sins of the great especially, and of their
sins especially the violation of the sabbath, be-
cause it is naturally productive of all the rest.
If you wish well to our arms, and would be glad
to see the kingdom emerging again from her ruins,
pay more respect to an ordinance that deserves the
deepest ! I do not say pardon this short remon-
strance ! The concern I feel for my country,
and the interest I have in its prosperity, give me
a right to make it. T am, &c."
Thus one might write to his lordship, and (I
suppose) might be as pro6tably employed in
whistling the tune of an old ballad.
Yours, my dear friend,
w. a
LETTER CCCCXIX.
William Cowper, Esa. to Rev. W. Unwin. Thoughts
on divine Providence. Remarkable deliverance from peril.
My dear Friend, May 27, 1782.
We are glad that you are safe at home again.
Could we see at one glace of the eye what is pass-
ing every day upon all the roads in the kingdom,
how many are terrified and hurt, how many plun-
dered and abused, we should indeed find reason
enough to be thankful for journeys performed in
safety, and for deliverance from dangers we are
VOL. III. A A
354 WILLIAM COWPER, ESQ.
not perhaps even permitted to see. When in some
of the high southern latitudes and in a dark tem-
pestuous night, a flash of lightning discovered to
Captain Cook a vessel, which glanced along close
by his side, and which, but for the lightning, he
must have run foul of, both the danger, and the
transient light that showed it, were undoubtedly
designed to convey to him this wholesome instruc-
tion, that a particular Providence attended him,
and that he was not only preserved from evils, of
which he had notice, but from many more of which
he had no information, or even the least suspicion.
What unlikely contingencies may nevertheless take
place ! How improbable that two ships should
dash against each other, in the midst of the vast
Pacific Ocean, and that steering contrary courses,
from parts of the world so immensely distant from
each other, they should yet move so exactly in a
line as to clash, fill, and go to the bottom, in a sea
where all the ships in the world might be so dis-
persed as that none should see another ! Yet this
must have happened but for the remarkable in-
terference which he has recorded. The same Pro-
vidence indeed might as easily have conducted
them so wide of each other, that they should never
have met at all, but then this lesson would have
been lost; at least the heroic voyager would have
encompassed the globe without having had occa-
sion to relate an incident that so naturally sug-
gests it.
Yours,
W. C.
WILLIAM COWPER, ESQ. 355
LETTER CCCCXX.
William Cowper, Esq. to Rev. W. Unwin.
We rejoice that you had a safe journey, and though
we should have rejoiced still more had you had no
occasion for a physician, we are glad, that, having
had need of one, you had the good fortune to find
him. — Let us hear soon that his advice has proved
effectual, and that you are delivered from all ill
symptoms.
This change of wind and weather comforts me,
and I should have enjoyed the first fine morning I
have seen this month with a peculiar relish, if our
new tax-maker had not put me out of temper. I
am angry with him, not only for the matter, but
for the manner of his proposal. When he lays
his impost upon horses, he is jocular, and laughs,
though considering that wheels, and miles, and
grooms, were taxed before, a graver countenance
upon the occasion would have been more decent.
But he provoked me still more by reasoning as he
does on the justification of the tax upon candles.
Some families, he says, will suflfer little by it. —
Why ? because they are so poor, that they cannot
afford themselves more than ten pounds in the
year. Excellent ! They can use but few, there-
fore they will pay but little, and consequently
will be but little burdened; an argument which for
its cruelty and effrontery seems worthy of a hero —
but he does not avail himself of the whole force of
356 WILLIAM COWPER, ESQ.
it, nor with his wisdom had sagacity enough to see
that it contains, when pushed to its utmost ex-
tent, a free discharge and acquittal of the poor
from the payment of any tax at all ; a commodity,
being once made too expensive for their pockets,
will cost them nothing, for they will not buy it.
Rejoice, therefore, O ye pennyless! the minister
will indeed send you to bed in the dark, but your
remaining halfpenny will be safe ; instead of being
spent in the useless luxury of candlelight, it will buy
you a roll for breakfast, which you will eat no doubt
with gratitude to the man who so kindly lessens the
number of your disbursements, and, while he seems
to threaten your money, saves it. I wish he would
remember, that the halfpenny, which government
imposes, the shopkeeper will swell to two-pence. I
wish he would visit the miserable huts of our lace-
makers at Olney, and see them working in the
winter months, by the light of a farthing candle,
from four in the afternoon till midnight : I wish
he had laid his tax upon the ten thousand lamps
that illuminate the Pantheon, upon the flambeaux
that wait upon ten thousand chariots and sedans
in an evening, and upon the wax candles that give
light to ten thousand card-tables. I wish, in short,
that he would consider the pockets of the poor as
sacred, and that to tax a people already so neces-
sitous, is but to discourage the little industry that
is left among us, by driving the laborious to de-
spair.
A neighbour of mine, in Silver-end, keeps an
ass i the ass lives on the other side of the garden-
MRS. HANNAH MORE. 357
wall, and I am writing in the green-house : it hap-
pens that he is this morning most musically dis-
posed, whether cheered by the fine weather, or by
some new tune which he has just acquired, or by
finding his voice more harmonious than usual. It
would be cruel to mortify so fine a singer, there-
fore I do not tell him that he interrupts and hinders
me, but I venture to tell you so, and to plead his
performance in excuse of my abrupt conclusion.
I send you the goldfinches, with which you will
do as you see good. We have an affectionate
remembrance of your last visit, and of all our
friends at Stock.
Believe me ever yours,
W. C.
LETTER CCCCXXI.
Mrs. Hannah More to Mrs. Carter. Pride in strange
places. Talent without principle.
Bristol, 1784.
How kind and generous is it in you, my dearest
Mrs. Carter, to consult my wishes, rather than my
deserts, and to give me the pleasure of receiving
such a delightful letter from you, so much sooner
than I could reasonably hope for it. I hope the
speediness of my reply will not make you repent
your indulgence. Faire des heureux, is one of the
highest privileges of our nature; and I assure you
that you exercise that prerogative in no low degree,
whenever you write to me or talk to me.
A A 3
358 MRS. HANNAH MORE.
The abolition of franks is quite a serious affliction
to me; not that I shall ever regret paying the post-
age for my friends' letters, but for fear it should re-
strain them from writing. It is a tax upon the
free currency of affection and sentiment, and goes
nearer my heart than the cruel decision against li-
terary property did ; for that was only taxing the
manufacture, but this the raw material.
I believe I forgot to mention that I had disposed
of part of your bounty to the poor woman. Mrs.
Palmer, the bookseller, speaks highly of her ho-
nesty and sobriety, but says that her pride is so
great, that she will let nobody know where she
lodges ; and it is but seldom that she can prevail
upon her to eat, when she calls upon her, though
she knows her at the time to be near perishing. I
could not but smile at the absurd notions people
entertain of right and wrong ; for this preposterous
pride Mrs. Palmer seemed to think a noble fierie.
However, I have made her condescend to promise
that if she should have a dangerous sickness, or be
confined to her bed, she would vouchsafe to let me
know the place of her abode, that she might not
die of want : and yet all this pride pretends to a
great deal of religion. Poor creatures ! not to
know that humility is the foundation of virtue ;
and that pride is as incompatible with piety to-
wards God, as it is with the repose of our own
hearts,
I have read the first volume only of Les Veillees
du Chateau. What a surprising talent that woman
has, of making every thing that passes through her
MRS. HANNAH MORE. 359
hands interesting ! the barrenest and most unpro-
mising subjects ' she turns to favour and pretti-
ness.' Yet this is the woman with whom, I am
told upon unquestionable authority, I must not
cultivate a friendship. Can it be possible, my dear
friend, that she who labours with so much ability
and success in the great vineyard of education,
should herself be deficient in the most important
qualities which she so skilfully paints, and so
powerfully recommends ? What motives for hu-
miliation, for self-distrust, and circumspection in
one's own conduct does such a character suggest to
me ! I am never so effectually humbled as in con-
templating the defects of a shining character. So
far from feeling any interior joy that the distance
between them and me seems to be lessened, I am
deeply alarmed, lest those of my own actions which
seem the least exceptionable, should either proceed
from wrong motives, or be a cover for false princi-
ples. And I do assure you, my dear Mrs. Carter,
with all the truth of sincere friendship, that one of
my deepest causes of uneasiness is, lest I should
deceive others, and especially myself, as to the
motives of my own actions. It is so easy to prac-
tise a creditable degree of seeming virtue, and so
difficult to purify and direct the affections of the
heart, that I feel myself in continual danger of ap-
pearing better than I am; and I verily believe it is
possible to make one's whole life a display of
splendid virtues and agreeable qualities, without
ever setting one's foot towards the narrow path, or
even one's face towards the strait gate.
360 REV. DR. CAREY.
I hope we shall not lose Miss Hamilton entirely
out of London ; and I long for the decision of that
point : but whatever will be most prudent and pro-
per for her, I shall acquiesce in.
Yours, my dear Madam,
Most faithfully,
H. M.
LETTER CCCCXXII.
Rev. Dr. Carey to Rev. Andrew Fuller, some time
after the fire at Serampore in 1812, at the Missionary Print-
ing-offices, which, besides destroying much valuable property,
consumed the labours of years. An illustration of missionary
energy.
Perhaps last year was a year of the greatest afflic-
tions the mission ever suffered ; the ravages made
by death were very great, and keenly felt; but in
the midst of them came our loss by fire, and seemed
for several months to swallow up every other sen-
sation of distress. At the end of twelve months
our printing-office was in a better condition for
printing oriental languages than before the fire.
Your investment of English type has set us on our
legs in that department, and the re-translation of
the Scriptures was much better than the former
manuscripts, which were burnt, and will save al-
most as much labour in the revision and correc-
tion, as the labour of re-translation is worth. The
writing of grammars over again was, I confess, a
very unpleasant work, but has been of great use to
REV. DR. MORRISON 361
me in forwarding the acquisition of some of the
most difficult languages, and at the same, as I have
had greater and better helps, I think I may say,
without vanity, that they are much more complete
and free from error than they would have been be-
fore.
LETTER CCCCXXIII.
Rev. Dr. MorrisoNj Chinese Missionary, to Dr. Clunie of
IVIanchester; written only eight days before his death. The
catholicity of a true missionary spirit.
My dear Friend, Macao, February 24, 1834.
Two days ago, your welcome letter, accompanied
by a report of your kind association for our poor
college, arrived and afforded me much joy ; for I
had several months been wondering at your silence.
The death of Milne and Collie, and the removal of
Kidd and Tomlin, were impediments to the pros-
perity of the institution. But I am happy to say
that, judging from Mr. Evans's letters from the
college, he will soon restore it to all that piety,
learning, and zeal can do for it. I have been de-
pressed about it of late, but my hopes now revive.
The American missionaries in Canton are persever-
ing in the good work, without any immediately
great results. They are more zealously supported
from America, than we are from England. The
church of Christ on earth, and also in heaven, is
from all nations, and kindreds, and peoples, and
362 REV. DR. MORRISON.
tongues. It should know nothing of earthly na-
tionalities. The kingdom under the whole heaven
belongs to Christ, our blessed Saviour, of which I
hope, my dear friend, we are citizens. T love the
land of my descent, " Canny Scotland ;" the land
of my birth, "Old England;" and the land of my
sojourn — my adoption, although not recognised by
it — China. I would not set up one against the
other. O that in point of fact, (as in point of right
they are,) all the kingdoms of this world may soon
become the kingdoms of our God and his Christ !
At present 1 am engaged on notes on the gospels,
with marginal references, in Chinese. My progress
is but slow. My strength for labour has much di-
minished ; and I have many calls on my time from
various quarters. Adieu.
My dear brother and faithful friend, ever yours
affectionately,
Robert Morrison.
THE END.
Joseph Rickerby, Printer, Sherbourn Lane.
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