LIBRARY UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA I /^ -^^^ >.*-_ y6^.>^^^ THE LIFE WILLIAM HUNTINGTON, S.S. BY THOMAS WRIGHT (Author of " The Life of William Cowper," &c.) LONDON : FARNCOMBE <4 SON, 30 IMPERIAL BUILDINGS. LUDGATE CIRCUS. EC. 1909 . »^ LOAN STACK PRINTED BY FARNCOMBF. & SON, SOUTHBRIDGE ROAD, CROYDON AND LONDON BXSIf9 CONTENTS CHAPTER I and February, 1745 — ist January, 1769 CRANBROOK AND SUSAN FEVER Early Days at Cranbrook Susan Fever ..... At Rolvenden and Charing, 1765 — 1767 The Tramp to London and through Essex, 1767 He changes his Name, 1769 CHAPTER n ist January, 1769 — 1771 MORTLAKB : THE FIRST SACRBO SPOT He marries Mary Short ... The Voice in the Garden . . . , CHAPTER HI 1771— April, 1773 KINGSTON : THE SECOND SACRED SPOT The Prayer Curtain .... Kingston Church .... CHAPTER IV April, 1773 — Midsummer, 1774 SUNBURY : THE THIRD SACRED SPOT 10 Gardener at Sunbury, 1773 .... 1 1 The Doctrine of Election .... 12 The Sudden Vision of Brilliant Light 13 The Rev. Torial Joss ..... CHAPTER V Midsummer, 1774 — December, 1775 EWELL : THE FOORTH SACRED SPOT 14 He begins to preach at Ewell 15 His first Convert ..... CHAPTER VI December, 1775 — June, 1782 THAMES DITTON : THE FIFTH SACRED SPOT 16 Coalheaver at Thames Ditton. The Chapmans 17 Forty Pound a Year, Lord .... 18 Ordained at Woking, 1776 .... Page 1 6 8 10 11 13 14 17 18 24 27 30 32 84 37 40 41 263 iv LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. 19 King George comes to his aid 20 The Trouble about his Name, 1780 . 21 Margaret Street Chapel 22 Second House in Thames Ditton, February, 1780 23 He prays for Breeches 24 Mrs. Chapman and the " Stuff Damask " . Page 42 45 46 48 48 53 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 CHAPTER VII June, 1782 — December, 1789 THE FIRST PROVIDENCE CHAPEL He removes to 29 Winchester Row, London, 1782 Providence Chapel erected James and Peg Baker .... The Cabin ..... " The Root of the Matter is found in me " . The Bank of Faith and The Kingdom of Heaven by Prayer ..... Epistles of Faith, 1785. Miss Morton The Watching of Providence A Present of Books. Huntington as a Reader The Visit to Bristol, November, 1786 Letter to Mrs. Huntington The Chapel on Fire, November, 1788 Taken 55 56 58 61 63 65 70 75 76 80 81 83 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 CHAPTER VIII December, 1789 — March, 1799 CHURCH STREET, PADDINGTON The History of Little Faith Adam and Eve and Dr. Ryland He revisits Old Haunts Huntington's Old Man of the Sea The Blakers . Rev. J. Jenkins and Mrs. Thomas Hooper Living Testimonies, 1794 At Plymouth Dock, 1796. The Barstons of Grantham CHAPTER IX March, 1799 — July, 1802 CRICKLEWOOD HOUSE "Brother Grazier," 1798 .... Present of a Coach and Horses. " S.S." . The Chapel is Enlarged .... The Martins, of Downham, and the Taylors, of wade ..... The Countess has the Gout. The Lansdells 85 86 91 93 96 98 103 104 110 112 116 116 118 CHAPTER X July, 1S02 — June, 1806 ACQUAINTANCE WITH LADY SANDERSON BEGINS 50 " My Little One." The Parrs 51 Rev. W. J. Brook . . . . 124 129 CONTENTS. V Page 52 His Portrait. He builds a Chapel at Cranbrook, April, 1803. Isaac Beeman ..... 130 53 The Gout worketh Wrath . . 135 54 Apostolic Journeys with Lady Sanderson . . . 136 55 Death of William Blaker, loth Decetaber, 1804. Thomas Owram ....... 139 CHAPTER XI Jane, 1806— 15th August, 1808 A TIME OF AFFLICTION 56 Garnet Terry ....... 142 57 Death of Mrs. Huntington ..... 144 58 Breach \vith W. J. Brook, ist September, 1807 . . 149 59 The Chapel Thief. Visited by Brook ... 164 CHAPTER XII 15th August, 1808 — 13th July, 1810 MARRIAGE WITH LADY SANDERSON 60 " What wait we for ? " 15th August, 1808 . . 157 61 The Gold Stream. At Littleport among the Gnats, 26th July, i8og. ...... 169 62 Death of Miss Mary Chamberlain. "Penny a Day" Sermon, 8th October, 1809 .... 164 63 Death of James Baker ..... 166 CHAPTER XIII HUNTINGTON THE MAGNIFICENT 64 His Appearance and Character. Anecdotes . 172 65 Huntington as a Writer. Contemplations on the God 0/ Israel ....... 186 66 Controversial Works. Rowland Hill ... 188 67 His Letters ....... 194 CHAPTER XIV 13th July, 1810 — 20th June, 1811 PROVIDENCE CHAPEL BDRNT DOWN 68 " Where is Providence Chapel now ? " 13th July, 1810 204 69 The New Providence Chapel ..... 210 70 Death of Rev. J. Jenkins, ist September, 1810 . . 211 71 Anecdotes ....... 315 CHAPTER XV 20th June, 1811 — 18th June, 1S13 PENTONVILLE 72 Hermes Hill 332 73 The New Chapel opened, 20th June, 181 1 . . . 390 74 Scenes at the New Chapel ..... 333 75 Death of the Rev. W. J. Brook, 21st September, 1811 . 249 76 The Coalheaver's Last Pilgrimage .... 250 77 The Year 1813 ...... 256 vi LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. CHAPTER XVI 25th May, i8t3 — ist July, 1813 THE TWILIGHT OF SAROIS Page 78 Last Days at Hermes Hill ..... 269 79 "No Ifsor Buts." ist July, 1813 .... 263 80 "With a great and very sore Lamentation." . . 270 CHAPTER XVII HUNTINGTON'S TRADUCERS 81 The Satirist. Crabbe and the Smiths . . . 273 82 Southey, Mathews, and Macaulay .... 278 83 J. M. Rigg and The Shoe and Leather Record . . 287 CHAPTER XVIII HUNTINGTON'S APPRECIATORS 84 Romaine and John Sterling ..... 293 85 Rev. Samuel Adams and Rev. Dr. Doudney . . 294 86 Rev. J. C. Philpot and Rev. Dr. Cole , . . 294 87 Richard Heath and Rev. W. J. Styles . . .298 88 Rev. J. W. Tobitt and the Rev. John E. Hazelton . . 299 CHAPTER XIX HUNTINGTON'S DESCENDANTS AND FRIENDS 89 Huntington's Children ..... 302 90 Death of Lady Sanderson ..... 302 91 Conclusion ....... 303 ABBREVIATIONS Ben. Col. K. of H. B. of F. C. C. F. L. and D P. L. G V. Bensley's Edition of Huntington's Works in 20 vols. CoUingridge's Edition (formerly Bennett's) of ditto in 6 vols. The Kingdotn of Heaven Taken by Prayer. Bank of Faith. Celebrated Coalheaver. By Ebenezer Hooper. Facts, Letters, and Documents. By Ebenezer Hooper. Posthumous Letters, 4 vols. Gleanings of the Vintage. Vol. 5 in CoUingridge's Edition. LIST OF PLATES 1 William Huntington .... . Frontispiece 2 Huntington's Birthplace as it was Facing page 2 3 Huntington's Birthplace as it is 2 4 Barnabas Russell's House 15 5 Squire Cook's House .... 15 6 William Huntington (oval) 64 7 Prodigalis's Progress . , . ,. 81 8 Cranbrook Church .... 97 9 Gassons ...... 97 lO Charles Martin's House 112 II Cricklewood House .... 11-2 12 Providence Chapel, Cranbrook (exterior) 129 13 ,, (interior) 129 14 Mrs. Huntington's Tomb ., 144 15 Seatholder's Ticket, Old Chapel » 144 i6 Rev. Isaac Beeman .... 146 17 Joseph Morris ..... 146 i8 Rev. W. J. Brook .... 159 19 Rev. Jos. Chamberlain .... 159 20 Rev. Samuel Turner .... 159 21 Rev. T. Joss ..... 159 22 Henry Martin ...... 169 23 Rev. J Jenkins ..... 159 24 Seatholder's Ticket, City Chapel 160 25 Communion Ticket .... .. 160 26 Bethlehem Chapel, Richmond . 177 27 Huntington's Pulpit .... 177 28 Love Feast (from The Satirist) 178 29 Mrs. Charles Martin .... 178 30 Huntington's Spectacles 191 31 Huntington's Stick . . . . . 191 32 Huntington Preaching (from The Satirist) 192 33 Gold Medal (obverse) .... 209 34 „ ,, (reverse) , . . . . 209 35 New Providence Chapel . . . . 210 36 Hermes Hill House . . . . . 210 37 " Somerville " ...... 223 38 My Lady's Cottage . . . . . 228 39 Huntington's Tomb . . . . . 257 40 Lady Sanderson's Tomb , . . . 257 41 Memorial to Huntington . . . . 272 42 Medallion . . . . . 272 PREFACE This is the first biography of William Huntington. It is remarkable that although nearly a hundred years have elapsed since his death ; although he was by far the most impressive and most famous preacher of his age ; although his master- pieces, The Bank of Faith, The Kingdom of Heaven Taken by Prayer, and Contemplations on the God of Israel, have been read and treasured by millions, both in this country and in America ; although the first two have been rivalled in popularity by only one other English religious work. The Pilgrim's Progress; although even the most hostile of critics have paid involuntary tributes to the virility of his style and the absorbing interest of his matter ; nevertheless no biography ^ of him has pre- viously been published. Perhaps it will be said, " He is his own biographer." But the careful student of Huntington knows different. The Bank of Faith and The Kingdom of Heaven cover only a fraction of his career. They are without dates, and a host of curious and vital facts are omitted. Even the addition of material from the published correspondence leaves unfilled many an exasperating lacuna ; for the letters, unfortunately, are not arranged chronologically, some are imperfect, many are undated, and the names of the recipients are omitted. Then again about a hundred of the most valuable letters are scattered up and down the pages of various periodi- cals ; and, lastly, I have in my possession over a hundred deeply interesting letters which have never been published. " The generation," writes the Rev. W. Sinden, " that enjoyed the friendship of the great Mr. Huntington were, of course, in close touch with his personality and character, and that he was much loved and admired is more than evident ; but succeeding generations of the Lord's people, who know him and revere his memory through his voluminous writings, have, we are sure, often desired a more generous account of 1 There have been various volumes of Reminiscences — those, for example, by William Stevens and Ebenezer Hooper. X LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. his life-history than that which he gives himself, notably in his Kingdom of Heaven Taken by Prayer, which appears to have been wrung from him by the foul assaults of his enemies." As soon as I set myself seriously to the task of writing a biography of Huntington, I saw that the only way to bring up the living man, with all his virtues, failings, and idiosyncrasies, would be to arrange his correspondence as far as possible in chronological order. So I wrote to the Press, and requested owners of letters to be good enough to lend me the originals. My appeal met with a generous response ; several hundred letters came to hand ; and by means of them I was able to restore the dates of many letters, the names of the receivers, and the excised passages, some of which proved auto- biographical. As it is my ambition to publish, after a while, the whole of Huntington's correspondence in chronological order, with annotations — to treat Huntington's letters, indeed, as I have treated those of the poet Cowper — I trust that other persons who have originals will communicate with me, and so help to make the work as complete as possible. Owing to my various efforts, I have been able to throw a flood of new light on Huntington's life, and to refute the shameful slanders with which malicious or ill-informed writers have attempted to tarnish an irreproachable name. I am able to show that Huntington — " the religious impostor " of these writers — led in reality a life of uniform, and even austere, piety ; that he was not only disinterested in his motives and noble in his actions, but that his sole aim was to proclaim the cardinal truths of the Gospel. He was a very dragon for work, and probably accomplished more, of the solid sort, in a week than most of his calumniators have done, or will do, in a lifetime. These calumniators fall into two classes. First, those who between the years 1800 and 1830 invented and put afloat the various well-known calumnies ; and secondly, those of later times who have more or less innocently (for I wish to be charitable) accepted and repeated them. I shall, in the course of my narrative, tell the story of how on one occa- sion Huntington went to the expense of cleansing the White Conduit at Pentonville, and how in the night evil-minded men emptied filth into it, and so deprived the public from benefiting by his philanthropy. It was the same with the early PREFACE. xi slanderers of Huntington. They came across the pure stream of his life. For reasons best known to themselves they hated the man. They poured their own filth upon the stream and then cried, " Look at that dirty water ! Did you ever ! Pray don't go near without holding your noses." And the irony of it all is that the men who circulated these fictions and painted Huntington as a libertine and impostor of the lowest type, were men who, to judge by their writings, never gave a single thought to religion or cared one straw for the welfare, moral or spiritual, either of their immediate circle or of the com- munity. Their conduct would not have seriously mattered ; only, unfortunately, the world is an indolent one, and a number of persons, some of them well-meaning persons too, instead of making investigations for themselves have gone about echoing these slanders. Even those individuals among them who have praised the eloquence, the vigour, the originality, and the depth of Huntington's works have apologised for his life. Huntington wants no apologist. He sinned in his youth, just as Burns and many another hot- blood sinned. He suffered as acutely as his most malignant enemies could have wished. He became a new man, he repented in dust and ashes; and thenceforward nobody led a cleaner, nobler life. No man struggled more successfully with the frailities of human nature. I shall show that he was devoted to his first wife, that his letters teem with affectionate allusions to her, and that, despite her terrible failing, he clung to her to the very end ; I shall show that his conduct towards Lady Sanderson was from first to last abolutely unexception- able ; and that during his first wife's lifetime he never regarded Lady Sanderson in any light save that of an indefatigable helper in Christian work. I shall show that afterwards when he and Lady Sanderson became husband and wife they lived together (contrary to uninformed opinion) a life of quiet and uneventful happiness. That these remarks and the proofs of their correctness which I shall be able to adduce will have the slightest effect on the prejudiced, the evil-minded, or the prurient I would not for a moment suppose. The literary ghoul (that is to say the man who, when a number of wholesome courses are at his service, waves them aside and demands something which to a healthy palate is offensive) we xii LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. shall always have with us ; and we must view him as we view the poor, not with anger but with pity ; for he himself is the person most affected by the impurities upon which he chooses to feed. I write, however, not for this kind of person, but for the open-minded man — the man who is obsessed with only one desire, namely, to arrive at the unadorned truth ; but who at the same time would be deeply pained to learn that so eminent a servant of God, so helpful a writer as William Huntington, should have been guilty of the foul charges laid at his door. I can assure that open-minded man that a minute study of Huntington, and of every known work or article by or about him, has made abundantly clear that the only founda- tion on which these charges rest is the diseased imagination of the men who formulated them. I cannot conceive of a finer study for a biographer than the Life of William Huntington. To trace his career from the time of the hooted tatterdemalion at Deuce's School to that of the revered preacher holding spellbound his enormous congre- gations in Gray's Inn Lane^; from the time of Hunt the Miserable, shivering and starving under the Leyton hayrick, to Huntington the Magnificent, lavishing his favours like a second Hatim Tai and writing in his " Cabin " the gracious works that have given him immortality, is to tell a story stranger than anything to be found in fiction. Even the imaginary adventures of Ma'aruf the cobbler, as related in the last, the best, and the most marvellous story in The Arabian Nights, are less wonderful than the real adventures of Huntington the cobbler (and coalheaver), as recorded by him- self and corroborated by contemporaries and church registers. I shall have much that is new and interesting to tell concerning Susan Fever ; John Fever ; the Martins, of Downham; the Blakers, of Bolney; the Lansdells, of Spel- monden ; the Taylors, of Biggleswade ; the Adamses, of Northampton; Lady Sanderson and Huntington himself. The citations from the unpublished letters and from the restored portions of those partially published will perhaps prove the most absorbing feature of the book, but I have also given many anecdotes — a number of them new. In short, I have done my best to present to the public a vivid picture ' Now " Road." PREFACE. xiii of one of the greatest and saintliest men, one of the most forceful and helpful writers of modern times. My personal obligation to Huntington's works has been so great, that I feel that in writing this book I am merely discharging a just and pressing debt. They have been my cherished companions ever since I first became acquainted with them ; and if I can give pleasure to other lovers of Huntington, and bring his work and his charm home to readers who had not previously fallen under his spell, I shall feel that my time has been profitably employed. I am not unmindful, however, that our grateful thanks are due not really to Huntington but to the grace of God that was in him. The Almighty varies His instruments, though He has seen fit to select more than one from the Thames-side. In the 14th century He chose to honour Balliol in the person of WyclifFe ; in the i8th He singled out for distinction yet another Thames-side foundation, and gave us a Huntington. And Huntington's power and ascendency are largely attribu- table to the fact that he persistently regarded himself merely as an instrument in the hands of Omnipotence ; but in the unshakable belief in a guiding and overruling Providence lies the real, the appalling strength of any good man. I never think of the preposterous notions that are enter- tained concerning Huntington without recalling an error which appears in all editions of Cowper's poems. In The Negro's Complaint occurs the line : " Matches, blood-extorting screws." Editor after editor has copied that line for over a hundred years. It appears in countless editions ; and I should not like to say how many persons have written to me in order to ask what " matches " have to do with the slave trade. To none of the numerous re-printers occurred the thought to consult the original manuscript, in which the word is written as plainly as possible, not " matches " but " shackles." In the same way all sorts of errors, all sorts of calumnies, respecting Huntington have been repeated without reflection by one estimable person after another. As, however, I have devoted a whole chapter to this subject, I need say no more about it just now. I have endeavoured to write this book fairly and impartially. Huntington is one of those men whom one can deeply love, just xiv LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. as one can deeply love Cowper, Johnson, and Bunyan. That fact, however, must not blind us to his defects. These were all on the surface. Everybody knew them, just as everybody knew that St. Paul's, though a magnificent pile, could by no stretch of imagination be described as snow-white. He often showed himself egotistic, vainglorious, arrogant, dogmatic. Persons who differed from him ever so little were apt to be apKJstates, cacodemons, and I know not what. Johnson was not more tyrannical as a conversationalist, Landor more given to tempestuous outbursts. A graver fault was his habit of regarding the calamities that befel his enemies as judg- ments brought upon them by their treatment of him ; and of this habit he never divested himself. Again, the personalities to which in the heat of controversy he was apt to have recourse are absolutely indefensible. Undoubtedly he was at times uncharitable, and it must be admitted that he frequently went out his way to pick a quarrel. Like other strong men, it was a joy to him to exercise his muscles. A more pugilistic member of the church militant never expressed himself under big wig, tie-wig or brown George. He loved a good, stiff, ding- dong fight. He was a man of war from his youth. Owing to the prevalence of error, however, there was always sufficient fighting for him close at home without his sallying out in search of it. Therefore he stands reproved. But when people fell upon him, he defending himself, what a din ! All London, all England resounds with the hammering ; and the murmur wastes itself on the farther side of the Atlantic. Then again, remarkable as were his gifts as a preacher, some of his annotations of Scripture, as a capable critic has observed, " will not stand the test of a sober, discerning, and impartial investigation." But this said, all is said. Certainly he was eccentric. Otherwise he would not have been a man of genius ; and it is on record that his enemies regarded him as a pestilent fellow. Unfortunately, or fortunately, according to one's way of thinking, there have been others. Bunyan, Luther, Knox, Calvin, the apostle Paul, for example, all had the reputation of being " pestilent fellows." And now let me urge my readers to approach the study of Huntington with a desire to derive benefit from him. It is impossible to obtain good from anybody if an approach be PREFACE. XV made in a cavilling spirit. You will benefit not by his faults but by his graces. You may not agree with him on all points ; but open his books where you may, you will alight on some- thing to stimulate, to set you thinking, to deepen your religion. Approach him in this spirit, and you will end by loving him. Indeed, it is quite impossible to resist him. He takes you in his great affectionate arms and hugs you to his acre of breast. A Nonconformist of Nonconformists, he has never- theless had as many votaries in the Established Church as out of it. Some of his most eloquent eulogists have been clergymen of the Church of England^; and this to me, a member of that Church, is a pleasing reflection. The feeling towards him of contemporary godly men may be gauged from an observation in a letter written by Mr. C. Willingham, of Richmond, to the Rev. Samuel Turner, of Sunderland. Referring to Huntington, Mr. Willingham says : " I know he is but a man, and man may err ; but I do conceive him to be a partaker of a larger measure of the Spirit than any other man on earth. « Of his numerous modern appreciators I shall often have occasion to speak as this work proceeds. There now remains to me only the agreeable task of mentioning the persons to whom I am indebted, and of expressing my gratitude to them. Miss Helen E. Cooke, of Little Downham, Ely, lent me nearly a hundred original letters written to her great-grand- parents, Mr. and Mrs. Charles Martin ; Mr. T. R. Hooper (son of Mr. Ebenezer Hooper, the painstaking author of The Celebrated Coalheaver, and Facts, Letters, S^c, and a descendant of Huntington's "Philomela") allowed me the use of fifty-four letters to members of the Blaker family and others ; and his son, Mr. Wilfrid Hooper, has also very kindly helped me. It goes without saying that to the works of Mr. Ebenezer Hooper I am deeply indebted ; and I am grateful for the privilege of having been allowed access to his papers. Dr. George Williams lent me three letters (to John Blaker, ist Feb., 1802 ;3 George Lansdell, 15th Aug., i8io;4 Mary Blaker, 4th Aug., 1803) ; Mr. David Edwards one letter (to ^ See Chapter 18. * Letter of 24th Feb., 1810. Printed in The Gospel Advocate, 1873, P- 343- » G.V. ii. 46. < G.V. ii. 142. xvi LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. John King, 4th Feb., 1805) ; Mr. Joseph Edwards two letters (to Mr. Willows, 26th Dec, 1801, and 22nd Mar., 1802); Mr. Joseph Martin (son of Huntington's friend, Henry Martin) the originals of the seven letters to Henry Martin which appear in P.L,, Vol. 4, and an unpublished letter to the same ; Miss Caffin, of Lewes (granddaughter of Miss Elizabeth Blaker), five letters (27th Mar., to Rev. J. Jenkins ; 5th May, 1801, i6th Mar., 1802, 26th July, 1802, and about 30th July, 1802, to Elizabeth Blaker); Miss Ann Morris four letters; the Trustees of Jireh Chapel five letters ; and other letters have also reached me, making a total of about 250 — of which, as I said before, over a hundred are unpublished. The Rev. Canon Bell, Vicar of Cranbrook ; the Rev. Rupert Inglis, Rector of Frittenden ; and the Rev. W. H. Oxley, Vicar of Petersham, have very kindly searched the registers of their respective churches for me, with interesting results. I am indebted for the loan of books, &c., to the Rev. W. J. Styles, the Rev. J. W. Wren, of Bedford, the Rev. F. W. Nugent, Mr. T. B. Lock, Mr. Joseph Lock, Mr. Arthur Young and Mr. David Young (descendants of Huntington), Mr. G. B. and Miss Beeman, Mr. Luke Pearce, Mr. William Huntington (of Darlington), and many others. The volumes of The Earthen Vessel, The Gospel Advocate, The Gospel Standard, The Gospel Magazine, and The Spiritual Magazine have been of great service to me, and I have culled a variety of facts from their interesting pages. The various articles in The Gospel Advocate by the Rev. A. J. Baxter, and in The Gospel Standard by the Rev. J. C. Philpot ; and that fine and sympathetic study of Huntington by the Rev. W. Jeyes Styles, which appeared in The Earthen Vessel for 1905 and 1906, ^ have been particularly helpful. I have to thank the editors of The Standard, The Daily Mail, The Daily News, The Morning Leader, and The British Weekly, for inserting letters respecting Hunt- ington's correspondence. Some of my statements are derived from traditions handed down from my great-grandfather, William Rolls, of Bicester, who married into Huntington's family. 2 1 Aug., 1905 — Dec, igo6. ' Among the letters written to Mrs. Rolls (whose maiden name was Frances Blake) is one addressed from Deddington and dated 6th July, 1798. PREFACE. xvii The following is, I believe, a complete list of the persons to whom I have been indebted, and I heartily thank every one : Atkinson, Mrs. E. H.; Beeman, Miss; Beeman, Mr. G. B.; Bell, Rev. Canon (Cranbrook) ; Boys, Mr. T. ; Caffin, the Misses; Cooke, Miss H. E.; Comerford, Mr. F. T. ; Dennison, Mr. B.; Edwards, Mr. David ; Edwards, Mr. Joseph ; Findon, Rev. F. S. ; Fleeming, Mr. W. Lowe ; Fowler, Mr. James ; Frank, Mr. William ; Good, Mr. C. ; Harber, Mr. N. ; Head, Mr. J.; Heflfer, Mr. Reuben; Remington, Miss; Hooper, Mr. T. R. ; Hooper, Mr. Wilfrid; Huntington, Mr. William; Hughes, Mr. S. ; Inglis, Rev. E. Rupert (Frittenden) ; Jarvis, Rev. Joseph ; Jenner, Miss F. ; Kirby, Mr. F. ; Knight, Rev. Joseph ; Lloyd, Mr. Gerard ; Lock, Mr. T. B. ; Lock, Mr. Joseph ; Martin, Mr. Joseph ; Martin, Mr. W. J. ; Meek, Mr. O.; Morris, Miss Ann; Morris, Miss, of Wallands, Lewes; Morris, Mr. Frank ; Morris, Mr. James ; Morris, Mr. J. B. ; Nugent, Rev. F. W. ; Oxley, Rev. W. H. (Petersham) ; Patten, Mrs. E. M.; Pay, Mr. Samuel; Pearce, Mr. Luke; Pickett, Mr. J. F. ; Rogers, Mr. Frederick ; Ross, Miss A. ; Sanderson, Mr. J. B. ; Sansorae, Mrs. E. ; ScatlifF, Miss Edith; Scott- White, Rev. A. H.; Sinden, Rev. W.; Styles, Rev. W. J.; Spriggs, Mr. G. ; Tobitt, Rev. J. W.; Turnpenny, Mr. H. C.; Vinall, Mr. Hugh ; Warr, Madame ; Wilmshurst, Mr. Jona- than ; White, Mr. Jabez ; Wileman, Rev. W. ; Williams, Dr. George ; Wren, Rev. J. W. ; Young, Mr. Arthur (great-great- grandson of Huntington) ; Young, D. (great-grandson of Huntington). I have been indebted to the following books and periodicals : 1 79 1. The Barber's Mirror. 1794. Goliath Slain: A Reply to R. Carter's scurrilous pamphlet. 1796. Huntingtoniana. By W. England. 1798. The Ignis Fatims ; or, Will 0' the Wisp at Providence Chapel Detected and Exposed. By M. Nash. 1802. Huntington Unmasked, &c., 8vo. London, 1802. 1807. Letters from England. By Don Manuel Alvarez Espriella. ' Translated from the Spanish. 3 vols., 1807. A portion of Vol. 3 is devoted to Huntington. Reviewed in Edinburgh Review, No. 22 (Jan. 1808). * It was really written by an Englishman. xviii LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. 1808. Huntington Corrected and Garrett's Doctrine Protected. By Rev. Jeremiah Learnoult Garrett, Minister of Sion Chapel, East Street. 1808. The Satirist, or Monthly Meteor. 1808 — 1812. i8og. The Coalheaver in the Balance, and Huntington Measured in his Sack by Zion's Traveller. By Rev. Vigors MacCulla, Minister at Nethaneel Chapel, Eden Street, Tottenham Court Road. 1809. The Pulpit ; or, a Biographical and Literary Account of Eminent Popular Preachers. 3 vols. [Sketch of Huntington in the ist volume.] By "Onesimus" [Garnet Terry]. 1810. Letter to Rev. W. Huntington. By J. Walker. 1813. Memoir of the Life and Ministry of the late W. Huntington, S.S., with an Estimate of his Character. By " Onesimus " [Garnet Terry] . 1813. The Tombstone of the late Rev. Wm. Huntington, &c., &c. By Rev. Isaac Carter (of Portsea). 1813. The Sinner Saved, a Memoir of the Rev. William Huntington. 1813. Letter to the Great Trust. By J. Hicks. 181 3. Mysterious Babylon Examined in the Life and Death of Huntington. By Rev. Vigors MacCulla. 1814. The Voice of Years, ' concerning the late Mr. Huntington, being an Impartial Recollection of his Ministerial Character and Conduct ... By A Disciple of Jesus. [Probably a Mr. Crouch, whose father, a shoe-manufacturer in London, was the person at whose house the famous leather breeches were left.] See Bank of Faith. 1814 (perhaps). Review of The Voice of Years. Reprinted in Andrew Fuller's Works. Contributed to some periodical by Andrew Fuller. 1815. Nevo Evangelical Magazine, Vol. i, pp. 45 — 52. Review of the Character and Ministry of the late W. Huntington. The following are reviewed : (i) Huntington's Farewell Sermon, is.; (2) Letter to Mr. C. Goulding, London, 1814, pp. 64, IS. 6d.; (3) A second Letter to Mr. C. Goulding, London, 18 14, pp. 36, is. ; (4) Memoirs of Life of Huntington, by Onesimus, pp. 40, 2S. ; (5) The Voice of Years, London, 1814, pp. 80, 3s. The Reviewer is hostile to Huntington. 1 See Cel. Coal. p. 46. PREFACE. xix 1821. Quarterly Review, No. 48, Apr. 1821. Huntington, S.S. By Robert Southey. 1839. Recollections of the late Rev. W. Huntington. By a member of his church [Cornelius Tozer] . The Spiritual Magazine and Zion's Casket, 1839, pp. 55, 77, 106, 124, 156. 1853. Gospel Standard, 1853, pp. 285 and 318. Review of Epistles of Faith, addressed to Miss Elizabeth Morton. [This is a Review of the Reprint.] By the Rev. J. C. Philpot. See also Reviews [by Rev. J. C. Philpot] , Vol. I., p. 231. 1856. The Gospel Standard, ist Aug., 1856, pp. 250 — 260. The Posthumous Letters of Wm. Huntington. Brighton : C. Verrall. This fine Review was by the Rev. J. C. Philpot, M.A. See also Reviews [by Rev. J. C. Philpot], Vol. i, p. 540. 1867, Mar. Gospel Statidard. Review of The Bank of Faith. By Rev. J. C. Philpot. Reprinted in Reviews [by Rev. J. C. Philpot] , p. 596. 1868, Recollections of the late William Huntington. By William Stevens. 1869, Feb. The Gospel Standard. Review of Mr. Stevens's book, by Rev. J. C. Philpot. Reprinted in Reviews [by Rev. J. C. Philpot] , p. 625. 1871. The Celebrated Coalheaver. By Ebenezer Hooper. 1872. Facts, Letters, and Documents concerning William Huntington. By Ebenezer Hooper. 1872. TJie Gospel Advocate, 1872, pp., 25, 49, 95, 128. Th^ Celebrated Coalheaver. A Review of Mr. Ebenezer Hooper's work by the Rev. A. J. Baxter. 1873. Peasant Poets and Preachers. By Richard Heath. No. 2, William Huntington. A series of articles in Golden Hours, 1873. These articles were published as a book in 1893 with the title of The English Peasant. 1904. The Free Churches of Tunbridge Wells. By Luke Pearce. 1905. Memoirs of Ebenezer and Emma Hooper. Edited by T. R. Hooper. 1905 — 6. William Huntington; or. An Old Story Re-told. By Rev. W. Jeyes Styles. Earthen Vessel. XX LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. The following Relics of Huntington are in existence : 1. His pulpit, in the New Chapel, Thane Villas, Finsbury Park, N. 2. His walking stick given him by Lady Sanderson. It has an ivory top with the initials H. S. and the date 1593 done in the ivory with fine silver nails. It is in the possession of Mr. W. J. Martin, 2 Tressillian Road, London, S.E. 3. A marrow spoon, in the possession of Mr. William Frank, 3 Albion Street, Lewes. 4. His spectacles, in the possession of Miss F. Jenner, of Cranbrook. THE LIFE OF WILLIAM HUNTINGTON, S.S. CHAPTER I 2ND FEB., 1745 — 1ST JAN., I769 CRANBROOK AND FRITTENDEN " Half a grain of faith moves the world," wrote William Huntington' to his friend George Lansdell ; and this pregnant Days at , 111 1- Cranbpook. saymg has nowhere been better exempli- fied than in the life of the man who penned it. William Huntington, the famous, unconventional, and revered preacher, one of the three or four greatest religious teachers since apostolic times, and author of those remarkable works, The Bank of Faith, The Kingdom of Heaven taken by Prayer^ and Contemplations on the God of Israel, was born on 2nd Feb., 1745, in a substantially built cottage called "The Four Wents,"* situated near Cranbrook, Kent. His mother was Elisabeth, wife of William Hunt, a farm labourer ; his father Barnabas Russell,^ * Unpublished letter, 13th June, 1805, to George Lansdell, suggested, of course, by our Lord's words. * Being at the junction of four roads. ' Thus spelt in the Cranbrook parish register. It has been suggested to me that there was French blood in Huntington, and certain features in his character give weight to the suggestion. Many Kentish families are of Huguenot descent. ',r. 2 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. a sturdy, self-reliant, tyrannical, well-to-do farmer, William Hunt's employer. Huntington calls William Hunt " a poor, quiet, honest. God-fear- ing man, who was shut out of his own bed for years by a wretch ; " and as he speaks with sorrow rather than severity of his mother, we may assume that she was an unwilling victim to the licentious- ness of a coarse and brutal tyrant. It was a shameful condition of things, and one that would have riveted the attention of the author of Histoire d'une Fille de Ferine. Maupassant's story, indeed, is less repulsive, less animal. Nine children had already been born in the cottage, and there was afterwards another child.' Several of them, however, died in babyhood, and only William and five girls reached maturity. William Hunt earned only eight shillings a week in winter, and nine in summer ; and as Russell, who was callous and sordid as well as licentious, did nothing to help the family, the poor children were both ill-fed and ill-clad. Huntington was baptised' at Cranbrook church, 14th Nov., 1750, when he was five years old, and in the register he is described as the son of William and Elizabeth Hunt — nor did he change his name until he left the neigh- bourhood.^ » Martha, baptised at Cranbrook Church, 17th Sept., 1751. ■^ By Rev. Joseph Disney, who, according to his monument in the church, " was respected as a gentleman, distinguished as a scholar, and exemplary as a clergyman." Vicar Dec, 1725, to Sept., 1777. •'• In order to avoid confusion, however, we shall call him Huntington straight away. HUNTINGTON'S BIRTHPLACE AS IT WAS, See p. I. HUNTINGTON'S BIRTHPLACE AS IT NOW APPEARS. From Photo by Mr. J. F. Pickett, High View, Toys Hill, Brasted, Kent. CRANBROOK AND FRITTENDEN. 3 His education commenced at a dame's school, but the Hunts, goaded by poverty, soon removed him, and set him to fetching wood, gleaning, and running errands. At the request of his mother, Russell then procured his admission into Dence's Free Grammar School in Cranbrook churchyard ; and under John Hassell,' the aged master, he learnt to read and write, and obtained some seeds of religion. Russell's legitimate sons also attended the same school, and " Young Barnet "* (as Huntington was called), thinly clad, ragged, and half starved, cast wistful eyes on their plump dinner bags and thick, warm winter coats. ^ One day, ravenous with hunger, he "committed his only highway robbery " — that is to say, he stood up to, and stole part of a loaf from, a little French boy, servant to some French officers who were prisoners of war at Sissinghurst Castle.* After a while his reputed parents took him from school to help on the farm at threshing ; and at the age of eight he left home and commenced life on his own account as page-boy to " a certain yeoman. "5 All went smoothly until one day, when it was his duty to wait at an entertainment given by his master to the officers of the Kentish militia. His smartness and the alacrity with which he ' Hassell conducted the school from 1713 to 1757. 2 After Barnabas Russell. Ben. Vol. i (K. of H.) p. 211. ^ P. L. iii. p. 145. Letter to Rev. Isaac Beeman, of Cranbrook. * This incident occurred in the recreation ground called Ball Field. See Ben. Vol. i (K. of H.) p. 38. 6 Ben. Vol. i (K. of H.) p. 45. 4 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. ministered to the requirements of the guests so pleased them that they tipped him to the extent of thirteen shillings. To his mortification, however, his mistress bade him surrender two-thirds of it to the maid-servants ; and as, following the advice of his mother, he refused to obey, he was at once dismissed. When, however, he had exchanged his spruce livery for his old rags, and found himself working once more on the farm at fourpence a day, he wished he had yielded to his mistress ; but, he comments characteristically, " I was not to settle until I was brought to the decreed spot' where I was to meet the dear Redeemer, and engage in that work to which I was ordained from all eternity." After twelve months of field labour he obtained, " in answer to prayer," a place as errand boy to a Squire Cook, the wage being a guinea a year;' and in 1759, at the age of fourteen, he exchanged it for a situation at Battle Abbey. But he had not been there long before the news came to him of the illness of Barnabas Russell. Russell, indeed, had been brought to a pause in the very thick of his sins ; and then ensued a scene of horror. His tortured mind conjured up a thousand terrible visions. To Huntington's mother, who nursed him, he addressed repeatedly the agonized cry, " Do what you will to me, if you can but save my life." Save him, however, she could not ; neither * Sunbury. See chapter 3 § 12. > Ben. Vol. i (K. of H.) p. 45 ; Vol. 3 (B. of F.) p. 26. CRANBROOK AND FRITTENDEN. 5 could his injured wife, who also stood at the bed- side, render effectual aid ; and so without hope, and scarcely pitied, the wretched man sank moan- ing to his grave. Huntington never gave a thought to heredity, but he himself was a Barnabas Russell, trans- figured and softened by the grace of God. He derived from Russell an iron frame, an abounding and combative vitality, an impulsive nature ; and although he struggled heroically with that nature, nevertheless when he fell to controversy he not infrequently exhibited a sufficiency of Russell's brusqueness and all his masterfulness. But Huntington possessed traits that were absent from Russell, for while the father, for example, was sordid and callous, the son was tender- hearted as a woman and generous even to folly. His softer qualities, we may suppose, originated from the maternal side ; but that terrific force of character, which descended upon opposition like a park of artillery, derived itself directly and solely from the arch-transgressor who begat him. In 1762 Huntington left Battle Abbey, and entered the service of the Rev. Henry Friend, Rector of Frittenden'' — " a stately man "^ — with whom he stayed a year and a half. 1 Ben. Vol. i (K. of H.) p. 212. He was buried in Cranbrook churchyard 30th September, 1760. His widow, Elizabeth Russell, was buried i6th March, 1773 ; Elizabeth Hunt (Huntington's mother) 26th April, 1781 ; William Hunt, 1st July, 1783. All lie in Cranbrook churchyard. ' Rector of Frittenden from January, 1762, to March, 1805. He took a service in Frittenden church on 3rd January, 1762. * Frittenden register. 6 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. While at this place he formed the acquaintance 2 Susan ^^ Susan' Fever, the little black-eyed Fever, daughter of a tailor, and he fell into the habit of jesting with her when he and his com- panions passed her house on their way " to make a noise with the church bells." After a while he dis- covered to his surprise — for he was no Adonis — that the artless beauty had fallen in love with him, and on being convinced of the sincerity and warmth of her affection he became deeply moved. " I took her on my knee," he says, " and endeavoured to cherish her all I could ; and while I was perform- ing the part of a tender nurse, the patient per- formed the part of a conqueror, and insensibly took me prisoner. She had shot me through the heart. I loved her to such a degree that I could not bear her out of my sight." In after years he placed less value on beauty. " Few celebrated earthly beauties," he observes oddly, " stand en- rolled in the divine list of heaven's favourites. The Bible is very sparing of toasts." For a season, though the lovers had slender hopes of marriage, all went rapturously ; day succeeded day of " pleasing misery," and time only increased the ardour of their passion. Then Huntington, with a view to winning a home for himself and his black-eyed girl, went to learn gun-making with his * Her baptismal name was Susannah. Charles Fever and Susannah Easton were married at Frittenden 30th September, 1746. Susannah, daughter of Charles Fever by Susannah his wife, was baptised there 6th December, 1747. See footnote to § 3. CRANBROOK AND FRITTENDEN. 7 brother-in-law, Daniel Young/ and though Frit- tenden was fifteen miles distant from his work, he often walked over to see her. His rosy hopes, however, swiftly proved illusive, for Young neglected his business and took to drink. So Huntington left him, and, after working for a few weeks as pitman to a sawyer, he obtained a place as coachman to a gentleman at Rolvenden. Some meddlesome Frittenden persons then made mis- chief between him and Susan's parents, observing that the girl deserved a better fate than to be united to a hapless lackpenny. Thereupon her parents, although the lovers had been tenderly attached to each other for three years, refused Huntington their house, and urged Susan to transfer her affections to another. Susan, how- ever, clung tenaciously to her lover, and Hunting- ton, true son of Barnabas Russell, straightway gave rein to his amorous passions.'' But, unlike Russell, Huntington forthwith fell a prey to re- morse. " Conscience," he says, " soon began to make strange work within for what I had done, insomuch that at times my sleep departed from me, and I scarcely closed my eyes for whole nights together, and yet at certain intervals cruel jealousy gathered a desperate balm from the crime itself, for I should never have been able to endure the * Thomas Young, carpenter, Tenterden, brother of Daniel, married another of Huntington's sisters. ' This was in 1765, when Huntington was twenty. 8 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. thought of her dropping as a pure maiden into the hands of another.'" When the day came for him to go to his situa- tion at Rolvenden, Susan accompanied him two or three mournful miles on the way. " I thought," says he, " while on the road, that she would never be wife of mine, and questioned whether I should ever see her again, and I could not help telling her this. However, she vowed constancy, and when I took my leave of her I left her with a heavy heart, and a heavy heart I carried with me." A week or two after his arrival at Rolvenden he wrote and asked her to meet him on ^' ^*en°and" the road at an appointed place. She 1765— I'yly attempted, in the company of her father, to comply with the request, but owing to their having taken a wrong turning, Huntington missed them; and, his other letters having been intercepted, no further communica- tion passed between the lovers. After he had been at Rolvenden eleven months, he was sum- moned by the magistrates to Cranbrook, and saddled with a maintenance order.^ He eagerly offered marriage, but the girl's parents peremp- torily refused consent; and the magistrates, who * Ben. Vol. i (K. of H.) p. 60. The incident of Huntington and Susan is, as the Rev. W. J. Styles points out, curiously paralleled by that of Burns and his "Highland Mary." "Why," he pertinently asks, "should the Ayrshire ploughman have universal sympathy, and the Kentish peasant have none ? " * In the Frittenden church register is the following entry : " 1766, John, base born son of Susannah Fever, was baptised June i6th." In the old registers of Frittenden, "base-born" occurs with terrible frequency. CRANBROOK AND FRITTENDEN. 9 supported them, informed him that he would have to satisfy their demands all the same, and make further contributions quarterly. Exasperated on account of the treatment he had received, and saddened by the loss of his sweetheart, Hunting- ton returned to Rolvenden, where he fell ill. "My conscience," he says, "began to do her office, and the wrath of God to alarm me ; so that I was fully convinced God took notice of my conduct in this life, and would reckon with me for it in the next." "Poor William will die," said one of the maids, tearfully. "Yes," followed another, "the doctor has given him over." Huntington, as he lay helpless on his bed, over- heard the dismal conversation, and in his desola- tion he put up from his parched and clammy lips a halting and diffident prayer. Recovered from his sickness — and it was the year 1767 — he returned home, but he had not been there many days before he heard of a coach- man's place at Charing. On his way to it he knelt by a bridge and prayed earnestly for success. " I cut a stick half through," he says, "and bent it down in the hedge, which I promised to look at on my return, and render praise to God, if He granted me this favour. God heard my prayer. At my return I looked with many tears at the stick which I had marked, and offered up an imperfect tribute of praise to the God of my daily lo LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. mercies whom I had neglected and much offended." After a few months he exchanged Charing for Tunbridge Wells, where he drove for an under- taker, but his thoughts turned continually on Susan. Then he fell ill again ; and his unfeeling employer carried him to a stable, where he tossed with ague and fever, his sole resource being half- a-guinea; which the doctor took from him. When he had shaken off the fever, some kindly soul gave him a shilling, and with this coin in his fob, and the rest of his worldly belongings in a very good handkerchief, he fared with livid face and aching bones southwards into Sussex, without hope and without aim, save to put himself beyond the octopus reach of the Cranbrook magistrates, to whom he had been unable to make the stipulated payments. On reaching Chichester he spent a shivering night in a hovel, and next morning he to LondorT'^ turned himself about and directed his ^""^Essex"^" weary steps to London, still with the fear of the magistrates hot upon him, and still without hope or plan; but in Guildford High Street outraged nature refused to be further penalized, and he dropped from exhaustion. The handkerchief, however, in which he carried his poor belongings, purchased him bread, cheese, beer, and a night's lodging. Then he got work at Epsom, but he had scarcely grasped tool before another wandering fit overtook him, and he set off on a third Cain-like, weary, aimless, hope- CRANBROOK AND FRITTENDEN. ii less journey. Arrived at Low Leyton, in Essex — and it was Christmas-time — he tried to escape the biting winds and the drifting snow by crouching under a haystack. For three days and three nights no food passed his lips; but Huntington was not to die of star\^ation under the Leyton haystack. Having been relieved by some sympa- thetic soul, he wandered to Danbury, where he worked for a Squire Fitch until illness again felled him, when he was carried to the Bell Inn, to be nursed by its tender-hearted hostess. Again Death shook at him a threatening arrow ; but Hunting- ton was not to die of fever in the Danbury ale- house. On his recovery he tramped through Chelmsford and Billericay to Tilbury, whence he crossed to Greenhithe, where he obtained a situa- tion as gardener. While there he thus communed with himself : " I am in danorer. This place is only . , ., r , , 5. He changes twenty-eight miles trom the spot where his Name, that little son of mine lives that has caused me all this wandering. I shall certainly be seen by somebody who knows me. I shall never be able to pay the quarterage, or to marry Susan. Caught, I shall be promptly jailed. I will change, or rather add to, my name. It shall be Huntington instead of Hunt." A little later he heard that Susan Fever was married,' and then came the news of her * Ben. Vol. i (K. of H.) p. 60. In the Frittenden reg;ister appears the entry under date 30th September, 1767, of the marriage of Susannah " Fows" (it looks like " Fows ") to Robert Rabson. This marriage was witnessed by Charles Fever. It is possible that Susannah " Fows " was Huntington's Susan. Susan and her husband settled at Tenterden. 12 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. death. When Huntington found himself in easier circumstances he at different times helped his son/ and he honourably, though the money could not have been recovered by law, sent to the parish of Frittenden the sum of thirty pounds / an act, however, which did not prevent him from per- sistently referring to his transgression as a ''crime" — a youthful crime, allowed, but a crime all the same, and one by no means to be described euphemistically. • John Fever took, when he reached his teens, a place as " waggoner's mate '' at Tenterden, and he joined the militia. After a while, however, he ran away from his situation, and some verses written by him on the occasion have been preserved. They begin : " I ran away from Tenterden At ten o'clock one night." Ultimately he drifted to Throwley, a village four miles south of Faver- shara, where he passed the rest of his life, working, often in his soldier's coat, as an agricultural labourer. Huntington, as we said, helped him. He would have done more only Fever took to drink, and so rendered all efforts in his favour abortive. However, Huntington bore him in mind to the last, for he left him by will the sura of thirty pounds. John Fever died in the almshouse at Throwley about 1846. He had four sons, all of whom survived him. A granddaughter of his who is still living (1909) remembers hearing of his visits to Huntington's house. I am indebted to Mr. Samuel Pay, of Throwley, who knew John Fever personally, for this information. 9 Ben. Vol. i (K. of H.) p. 61. CHAPTER II 1ST JAN., 1769 1 771 MORTLAKE: THE FIRST SACRED SPOT Soon after altering his name he wandered inta Surrey, where he fell in love with a g. He Marries warm-hearted, cheerful, hard-working Mary short, young woman named Mary Short, a native of Dorsetshire. Owing to his fondness for jovial com- pany, she at first doubted whether he would prove a model husband ; and being a girl of some piety, she prayed to God " with a little book of prayers "" that if they married He would make Huntington a good husband, and incline him to stay at home with her.' In due course the marriage — a true love match — took place, and Huntington, reflect- ing on his loss of Susan Fever, observed, " She was appointed for another, and I have got the woman who was appointed for me. I believe these things are as firmly settled in God's decrees as the certain salvation of God's elect."* After taking ready-furnished lodgings at Mort- lake, he obtained the situation of gardener to the Hon. Messrs. Clive, brothers of the conqueror of India. Lameness rendered him for many days 1 Ben. Vol. i (K. of H.) p. 264. 2 Ben. Vol. iii. (B. of F.) p. 58. # 14 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. incapable of labour, and when he lost his first child he had not the money to bury it. For long he concealed his real name from his " Molly," as he called her, fearing lest the divulging of the secret might come as a shock to her ; but she, practical soul, when he broke the information, " took no notice of it, having," as he jocularly observes, "more regard for the man than for the name."' He, indeed, loved her tenderly, and when he saw the simple-hearted creature upon her knees, bending over her book of devotions, he, though himself without religion, regarded her as " an angel of light ; "^ and when, in after time, he learnt from her lips that she had prayed for him, he was affected even to tears. The death of his child (another, Ruth, was born soon after) had the result of leading 7. The Voice , . _' . , • i • in tiie him to reflect seriously concerning his state and the eternal verities ; and one day, while he was working in his master's garden near an old apple tree, he earnestly entreated the Almighty to keep him " from all fellowship with the wicked." Then, in the quiet of that garden, he heard a voice bidding him quit Mortlake and his old companions, and avoid in future all worldly company .^ A similar voice, it occurred to him, had instructed Abraham to leave the town of Ur and journey to an unknown » Ben. Vol. i (K. of H.) p. 76. * His own words. 3 Ben. Vol. i (K. of H.), p. 107 ; Vol. vi. p. 378. BARNABAS RUSSELL'S HOUSE' From a Photo by Mr. J. F. Pickett, Brasted, Kent. See p. I. SQUIRE COOK'S HOUSE. See p. 4. From a Photo by Mr. C. Good, Cranbrook. MORTLAKE. 15 land, and he determined to obey it.' " Oh what a soul-debasing consideration has it often been to me," he says, " when I have been thinking, reflect- ing, and at the same time believing, that the same Divine Being who spoke to pious Abraham in Ur of the Chaldees should speak to the poor abject gardener at Mortlake, in Surrey. I have often told my Lord upon my knees that I firmly believed this, and that I had compared my call with that of Abraham ; and that His unparalleled condescension to such a one has been a perpetual wonder to me."* Mrs. Huntington was away at Barnes at the time, nursing, and under the impulse he went over and informed her of his determination. " Do just as you will," said the compliant Molly, " I am ready to go with you to any place you choose " — " a sweet, submissive reply," comments Hunting- ton, " well becoming a pious helpmeet."^ So he applied for, and obtained, a place under a Mr. Low, nurseryman, of Hampton Wick, close to Kingston. As, however, he could not find a home in the neighbourhood, he was still obliged to keep on the cottage at Mortlake, and to trudge every morning the six miles to his work, and, of course, the six back again in the evening ; and the fact that he preferred doing this rather than to con- ^ Letter to Joseph Chamberlain, 26th October, 1812. — Lamentations of Satan, Part 2, p. i. " Letter to Joseph Chamberlain, 26th October, 1812. » Ben. Vol. i (K. of H.), p. 107. i6 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. tinue in the company of worthless companions bears eloquent witness to his earnestness and his grit. In after life, looking back to these incidents, he was wont to regard Mortlake as the first of the five sacred spots' he had known. " This spot," he used to say, " is Ur to me."^ 1 The other four were Kingston, his Mount Sinai ; Sunbury, his Bethel; Ewell, his Nursery ; Thames Ditton, his Holy of Holies. • Letter to Rev. Joseph Chamberlain, 26th October, 1812. 5l;, CHAPTER III I77I— APRIL, 1773 KINGSTON: THE SECOND SACRED SPOT After a while he succeeded in obtaining a lodg- ing at Kingston— a room in a little q J^^^ p^y^^ house down a lane — and there, after his Cuptain. work was done, he read his Bible diligently by the feeble glimmer of a rushlight. He attended church every Sunday, and became attached to the clergy- man, while to the shafts of wit levelled at him by his fellow workmen, whom he refused to join in their ale-house revelry, he paid no heed, though, when occasion offered, he would put in a word of Scrip- ture with a view to leading them to serious reflec- tion.' Nevertheless he often fell from the high standard which he had proposed to himself. One day, after he had been reading the 14th chapter of John, all the sins of which his recreant heart had ever been guilty came into his mind, with all their deformity and malignity; and rushing to his wife he cried, with hair erect and ghastly countenance, " Molly, I am undone for ever ; I am lost and gone ; there is no hope nor mercy for me ; you know not what a sinner I am, you know not what I feel."- To use a powerful expression of his own, * Ben. Vol. i, p. iii. ' Ben. Vol. i, p. 117. C i8 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. " The indignation of the Almighty had drunk up his spirits.'" When she endeavoured to comfort him he made some vapid attempts at cheerfulness, and as they had but one room, she curtained off a portion so that he might go and kneel unseen. Here he poured forth his heart with fervour to God, and found relief. It was characteristic of him, indeed, not only to love to be absolutely alone when engaged in prayer, but also to have a special praying-place. As there was a curtained space in the single room of the poor " little house down the lane " at Kingston, so, as we shall see, there came to be a cushioned corner in his stately home at Hermes Hill.^' He then thought he would speak to the clergy- 9 Kingston ^^^t ^^^ though he called several times Church, he failed to find him at home, " which I was much grieved at," he says, " being very fond of him, because he seemed to take more pains than any I had ever heard. I used almost to adore him, for if I passed him in his robes in the streets, my very soul would sink within me at the sight of so holy a being, as I vainly thought he was." Not being able to consult the clergyman, Huntington called on the clerk, whom he regarded as only a degree less holy. " The clerk," says Huntington, " took me to a public-house to treat him with rum and water as long as I could find cash to pay for it ! » Pref. to The Coalheaver's Cousin rescued from the B' Martin, of Littleport. Now in the possession of Mr. Joseph Martin, High Field, Littleport. * Ben. (K. of H.) p. 202. 26 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. most of it," commented Huntington archly. Mrs. Huntington, indeed, was indignant on account of the interference, but Huntington held it rather kind of the lady to show sympathy. " Why did she not mind her own concerns ? what did she meddle with us for?" enquired Mrs. Huntington pettishly. *' I was pleased," comments Hunting- ton, " with my dame's integrity ; and I believe the poor blind soul spoke it from her heart. And, indeed, had my wife turned against me in this situation I could not have borne up under the trial."' The more he searched his Bible, the more con- vinced he became of the truth of his new belief. The doctrines of eternal election and absolute predestination seemed to him " the principal arteries of the whole body of divinity." " I found," said he, "Christ preached it more forcibly than all the prophets put together,"- and he instanced John x. 26, " Ye are not of My sheep ; " John vii. 34, '* Ye shall seek Me, and shall not find Me," and other passages.^ These scriptures acted as balsamum to him ; and so he passed » Ben. Vol. i (K. of H.) p. 203. a Ben. Vol. i (K. of H.) p. 205, 3 In The Arminian Skeleton (p. 91) he says, " He that is taught to deny election is instructed to deny the Church Catechism, which teaches, ' I believe in God the Holy Ghost, who hath sanctified me and all the elect people of God,' How can a man join with the Church of England service, and say, ' Endue Thy ministers with righteousness, and make Thy chosen people joyful,' when he denies it in his heart ? " His ideas, observes the Rev. W. J. Styles, had assumed a form resembling that in which are presented Bunyan's ideas in the well-known Map show- ing the Order and Causes of Salvation and Damnation. SUNBURY. 27 from the raging tempest into a profound calm, " Election," he said long afterwards, " is a for- midable mountain before us so long as we do not know our interest in the Saviour, but when we do it is an iron pillar at our back." " Am I a chosen vessel ? " he asked himself. " If not, do what I will, I shall never ,„ ^^ ^ ^ ' * 12. The Sud- prevail in prayer, nor overcome my den vision ^ ^ J ' J of Brilliant temptations." These thoughts whirled Light, 11,. -1 J T^ 1 Dec, 1773. through his mmd one day m December, 1773, as, in his blue apron, he stood on a ladder pruning a pear tree. Could he, Barnabas Russell's son, be one of the elect ? " It is useless to pray," he cried, " I am one of the lost." While he pon- dered these subjects, yearning for knowledge and fuming because he could get none, all of a sudden a light exceeding the brightness of the sun shone round about him ;' and whether with his bodily eyes or not, yet this one thing he knew, that it shone into his heart, bringing all the Scriptures he had to his remembrance, impressing his mind with the blessed state of the elect and the awful condition of the wicked. He came down from the ladder fearing that this vision was a forewarning of his destruc- tion. " What is it ! What is it ! " he cried in his confusion ; and immediately he heard a voice as from heaven say, " Lay by your forms of prayer, and go pray to Jesus Christ ; do you not see how pitifully He speaks to sinners ? " > Ben. Vol. X (K. of H.) p. 216. 128 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. Then removing his apron he returned to his tool-house, and casting himself upon his knees, he prayed as one desperate, " O Lord, I am a sinner, and -Thou knowest it. I have tried to make ' myself better but cannot. If there is any way left in which Thou canst save me, do Thou save me ! if not, I must be damned, for I cannot try any more, and will not.'" The moment the last sentence dropped from his lips, the Spirit of grace and supplication was poured into his soul ; and forthwith he spake as the Holy Spirit gave him utterance, praying with such energy, eloquence, fluency, boldness, and familiarity, as even aston- ished him. Encouraging promises came swarm- ing into his soul like bees."* Jesus Christ, as suffering for him, was revealed with such power that he fell to the ground, but could not shun the sight, while joy in Him as his complete Saviour mingled with deepest sorrow for sin, which in its nature appeared so awful. He quitted the tool- house radiant with joy. " Oh happy year ! happy day ! blessed minute ! sacred spot ! " he exultingly cries. " Yea rather, blessed be my dear Redeemer, who delivered my soul from death, mine eyes from tears, and my feet from falling."^ Utterly unable to work, he left the garden and walked for miles on Sunbury Common rapt in ecstasy, and blessing and praising God with a loud voice. » Ben. Vol. i (K. of H.) p. 219. 'Ben. Vol. 18 {Noctua Aurita) p. 104. 3 Ben. Vol. i (K. of H.) p. 223; see also P. L, ii.. p. 137 (Letter to Lady Sanderson). SUNBURY. 29 He was a changed man, and to his cleared eyes all the world seemed changed.' He spent his Sundays at home with his devoted wife. That she was naturally religious, that she prayed with a book, and that in a vague way she hoped for sal- vation through divine mercy, he was aware ; but on questioning her, he found that she relied largely on her sincere but imperfect obedience, and had but feeble notions either of her own sinfulness or of acceptance with God through the merits of our Saviour. " I therefore," says Huntington, " be- sieged a throne of grace for her ; and God laid the state of her soul so heavily upon my mind that I travailed in pain until I had a hope of Christ's being formed in her heart; and the thought of our final separation at the general doom was as a spur to the energy of my petitions." And so at this juncture, as always in Huntington's story, one hears the old refrain, " Look to the end of life." ** Indeed," he proceeds, ** as the head of a family, I earnestly desired to fear God with all my house, and to keep up His worship in it. My wife did not reject my counsel. She had informed me how she had formerly prayed for me ; I like- wise now prayed for her. Those Sabbaths were Sabbaths indeed to me, for I had the spirit of devotion all the day long." And so Sunbury became his second birthplace. *' You know this ' See 2 Cor. v. 17, where the meaning seems to be that the world sud- denly becomes changed in appearance to the eyes of the believer. 30 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. is the man of Kent," he says, writing in 1813 to the Rev. Isaac Beeman; "the new man was born in Middlesex.'" One day an acquaintance asked him to go and 13 The Rev ^'^^.r the Methodists at Richmond. At Toriai Joss, f^j-st he refused, " for fear of imbibing their errors," but eventually he complied. The preacher was the Rev. Toriai Joss, formerly commander of a coasting vessel, and for years a colleague of George Whitefield.'' He took as his text Col. i. 13, 14, and handled it " like a workman." When asked whether he approved of the doctrine held forth by Joss, Huntington said, " Yes ; I believe Paul could not have delivered a better discourse. Indeed, I thought the old apos- tolic days were come again ; he preached the Bible, a book which I had never before heard preached. He was armed with nothing but gospel faith and simple truth, which are quite sufficient." On reaching home Huntington said to his wife, •*'I have found a man who preaches the Bible. The Methodists are the Lord's elect." He then laboured once more to make her see eye to eye with him, and they prayed together. " All this time," says Huntington, ** my soul enjoyed un- utterable life and glory. My communion with the Redeemer was so sweet to my soul that I thought it was impossible to live upon earth." Every day *P.L. Vol. 3, p. 203. *Joss died April, 1797. aged 65. SUNBURY. 31 he looked for his departure. When he knelt in prayer he seemed to be lifted np into heaven ; and his heart melted, his eyes overflowed with tears when he thought of the awful condition of so many of his fellow creatures. In the middle of 1774, his master, with a view to curtailing expenses, gave him notice, but in a kind and generous manner. " I believe," says Huntington, " my master often saw the felicity of my mind, and the wisdom God had given me," and then follows one of those beautiful remarks which are the union pearls of his writings, ** Grace carries many rays of majesty with it, though it take up its abode in a beggar.'" Within a few days he obtained another situation in the same town. He called Sunbury the third of his sacred spots. " This place," he says, *' was Bethel to me : for here I saw our house of defence (Ps. xxxi. 2), our door of hope (Hosea ii. 15), our living ladder* (Gen. xxviii. 12), and the gate of heaven."^ » Ben. Vol. i (B. of F.) p. 35. ' An allusion to the ladder on which he was standing when he had the vision. ' Letter to Joseph Chamberlain, 26th October, 1812. CHAPTER V MIDSUMt4ER, I774 — DECEMBER, I775 EWELL: THE FOURTH SACRED SPOT From Sunbury, Huntington, by this time close on thirty, removed to Ewell, where he gins to worked as gardener to a gunpowder Ewei?^i774^ maker. With a view to economy, he and his wife lived for many weeks on barley bread. An eel and a dead partridge which he happened to find proved veritable God-sends to him, and not less welcome were some carp which were floating dead in his master's pond, and which he was permitted to take.' His mind at ease, he walked about " in the happy enjoyment of elect- ing love." Then a conversation with one Hack- ston,^ a ** free-wilier," unhinged him, and his impetuous temper hurried him once more into sin. One day while he was " hoeing a sand-walk " the words sounded in his heart, " No man can come to Me except the Father draw him." " I know it says so," replied Huntington. " If," cried the voice, " you can find a passage in Scripture where it is said that a man has power to come, then you may prove the Bible lies." " From that moment," 1 Ben. Vol. 3 (B. of F.) p. 42. * Ben. Vol. 2 (Arminian Skeleton), p. 33 and 38. EWELL. 33 says Huntington, " I waged war against free-will;* and if God spares my life a hundred years longer I hope He will employ me in this battle." In short, he took his firm stand on the 17th Article, and once more he felt all his doubts removed. Animated with love for his fellow men, he then read and prayed with his neighbours, and ex- pounded the Scriptures to them. On being requested to pray in public he urged incapacity, but on reaching home he earnestly entreated God for the gift of prayer. It came ; and prayer led to preaching.* Then the racking idea haunted him that he had done wrong in presuming to open his mouth in God's name ; and on the following Sunday evening, instead of presenting himself at the meeting he stayed in his lodging, intending to preach no more. But presently he heard the voice of a neighbour, Ann Webb. In she went, crying, " William, come, are you not ready ? The house is full of people, and you must come directly." Instead of answering her, he ran and knelt behind his old curtain, and as he prayed the words bit into his mind, " He that is ashamed of Me and My words, of him will I be ashamed before the angels of God."^ So he went down and accompanied her to the meeting, which h e 1 As opposed to Free Grace. The Doctrines of Free Grace are comprehended in what are sometimes styled "The Five Points": I. Original Sin. 2. Election. 3. Particular Redemption. 4. Effectual Calling. 5. Final Perseverance. « Ben. Vol. i (K. of H.) p. 287. ' Mark viii. 38. Luke ix. 26. 34 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. found *' full of people indeed," and spoke from the text, " Upon this rock will I build My Church.'" After this he preached, and without misgiving, two or three times every week. Crowds flocked to listen, mainly out of curiosity ; but they complained that, instead of convention- ally confining himself to theology, he was apt to stray from his subject and to inveigh against dis- honesty, drunkenness, and profanity. In short, he was personal. Among those who were moved by his teaching 15 His First ^^^ ^"^ Webb, whom he often refers Convert, ^q ^is his first convert.^ Long after, he wrote, " I can truly say that the first child that ever God called by me I found more love to than to all the world beside ; and I was much frightened and terrified at it, and Satan tried me sorely about it because the object was a woman ; and to shun the snare, as the cavilling devil suggested it to me, I would hardly suffer the poor creature to come to my house, or even speak to me. But soon after God called her husband, and I found the same love to him."^ Several of Huntington's letters to the Webbs have been pre- served." Writing to them in 1776 he says, "Watch God's hand in answering prayer. Soon, my dear souls, must we all appear before the awful tri- » Ben. Vol. i (K. of H.) p. 295. • Ben. Vol. 3 (B. of F.) p. 75 ;^Vol. 2 (Naked Bow) p. 270, 8G. V. p. 404. * G. V. pp. 15 to 29. EWELL. 35 bunal of God, where there will be no feeing the Judge nor bribing the jury. Then will all hypo- crites be uncased, and the king and the beggar stand upon a level." In another letter he says, '* Two things I desire to see, but they would strike me dead : to see myself as a sinner as I really stand in the sight of God ; and to see Christ as He is in glory." Another of his converts, John Pavey, wrote long after, " I often call to mind the sweet conferences we held together at that highly favoured spot, Ewell Marsh, when your glory was fresh in you."' Huntington politely offered Pavey and others hospitality, but they found one mouthful of his barley bread more than enough, and their facial contortions became a standing jest against them.^ Despite his privations, Huntington felt himself on the eve of astounding providences, and he declared that God had singled him out to be one of His most powerful instruments. ** I shall never forget," said Pavey, " with what confidence you asserted, even when in a state of abject poverty, and with- out a friend in the world excepting two or three journeymen shoemakers, that you should prophesy^ before thousands ere you died."* Indeed he was deliriously happy, and in after years, when he had become the most popular preacher in England, he * Ben. Vol. 6, p. 29. « Vol. 6. p. 35. ' Preach, of course, not predict. * Ben. Vol. 6, p. 30. 36 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. often looked back to those days at Ewell when " the glorious King of kings was held and enter- tained in a hovel.'" Huntington subsequently regarded Ewell as the fourth of his sacred spots. " This was the nursery," he says, " where my first weaning time came on ; where also I was taught the mystery of Providence, and learned to live depending upon it."* » Ben. Vol. 6, p. 33. * Ben. Vol. 6, p. 380. See also letter to Joseph Chamberlain, 26th October, 1812. CHAPTER VI DEC, 1775 — JUNE, 1782 THAMES DITTON: THE FIFTH SACRED SPOT Having been ordered to work on Sunday, Huntington left his place at Ewell, ,„ ° ^ . 16. Coai- and settled at Thames Ditton.^ It heaver at '-n^ Thames was a God-forsaken parish. The vicar Ditton. The was seldom sober one day in the week, and the bulk of his flock were savage as Daho- mans and disgusting as Yahoos. Here Hunting- ton carried coals in the river for fourteen months at ten shillings per week, and preached during that time thrice every Sunday and once on a week evening.' Somebody gave him an old black coat and waistcoat, which, being over large, made coat, waistcoat, and breeches for him. " So," he says, *'on the day appointed I put on my parsonic attire, which was the first time I ever preached in that colour, my usual appearance being more like the ploughman or fisherman," Huntington regarded Thames Ditton as the fifth of his sacred spots. " Here," he said, " I found a sad furnace of afflic- tion. However, the Lord visited me again and again ; for in the old lumber room over the coal pens, which were in the wharf, to which I often » Ben. Vol. 3 (B. of F.) p. 51. 'Ben. Vol. i, p. 309; Vol. 3, p. 51. 38 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. retreated when in trouble, He came down upon me when I was in prayer as showers upon the mown grass. His presence and the glory of it filled my soul and all the place. And I have often thought that if there is a spot in the land that is sacred, and that may be called the holy of holies, this place was such to me.'" After a while he gave up coal-heaving and learnt to make children's shoes, but he and his wife, working hard, could together earn only eight shillings a week. Often his children cried for bread, and in these straits no book suited him so well as the book of Lamenta- tions. Then it occurred to him to call on an old acquaintance, Mr. John Chapman, a market gardener of Hounslow Heath, " who had known me," says Huntington, " even before either of us knew the Lord, and who was called by grace about the same time that I was. He had often invited me to visit him, wherefore I now obeyed the im- pulse which I felt, and accordingly went over Kingston bridge to Hounslow Heath, where I found him and his wife at home. I was, however, determined not to make my deep distress known to them, but intended to watch the good hand of my God in this journey." Mr. and Mrs. Chapman received him kindly, loaded him with simple dainties for his children, and gave him a guinea.^ This kindly couple, who afterwards removed to * Letter to Rev. Joseph Chamberlain, 26th Oct., 1812. «Ben. Vol. 3 (B. of F.) p. 56. THAMES DITTON. 39 Petersham, continued to the end of their lives' Huntington's staunch friends, and his books con- tain many pleasant allusions to them.^ Another of his benefactors at this period was "John Thornton, the great,"^ the philanthropic Russia merchant. But with all his toil, and in spite of occasional help from friends, he was unable to supply his family with necessaries. " It fell out one night," he says, "that we were forced to put our little ones to bed without a supper, which grieved me much, and on which account I got but little sleep all night ; for I lay and wept bitterly under my hard fate. While I was weep- ing and praying, a person came to the window and told me there was a load of wooden hoops come to the wharf from Dorking, and that I must get up and unload them ; which I soon did. When I had done, the farmer told me he had brought me a little meat pie and a flagon of cider, of which he had heard me say I was very fond. As soon as he was gone I went home, and endeavoured to awake my young ones, but in vain ; however, I set them up on the bolster, and they began to eat before they were fully awake. Thus God sent food from a very remote place, in answer to the groaning petition of my burdened heart. God grant that if my reader be a poor Christian he * See chap 10, § 50. * See Letters to them. Ben, Vol. 6, p. 84. 3 He is the "gentleman of great property," Bank of Faith, p. 59, and the 'gentleman famous for a liberal turn of mind," Id. p. 71. 40 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. may take encouragement from these accounts to pray and watch the hand of God in every time of trouble."' "My dear brother," he wrote to John Chapman, "it is a great thing to be a Christian."^ Huntington's ability as a preacher having by this time secured local recognition, he 17. Forty . , Pound a was mvited to become pastor of a Year, Lord. ., r t-. • ^ ■ small congregation oi Baptists, nothing further being required of him except that he should go through the ordinance of immersion. A friend, Mr. Turner, of Bagshot, also wishing to join in church fellowship, Huntington asked the Rev. Richard Burnham,^ of Staines, to baptise them both. On the appointed morning, Hunting- ton, consonant with his custom before doing any- thing of importance, fell on his knees and prayed earnestly. While thus engaged he heard a voice. "William," it said, "what are you going to be baptised for?" To which he replied, " For forty pound a year, Lord." Thereupon he rose and determined not to com- ply with the requirement. Consequently Mr. Turner entered the water alone, and another person became pastor of the church. Life through, Huntington's views on baptism were nebu- lous ; but when he obtained a chapel of his own »Ben. Vol. 3(B. of F.)p. 84. ' Ben. Vol. 6. p. 88. •^Author of "Shout aloud for Joy," and other hymns. Afterwards minister of Grafton Street Chapel, Soho. He died Oct. 30, 1810, aged 62. THAMES DITTON. 41 in London, quite half of his congregation were Baptists, and though he did not himself immerse, he was willing that any of his hearers who wished should undergo the ordinance at the hands of other ministers/ A little later he was invited to preside over a small conejregation of Independents at ^ ^ ^ 18. Ordained Woking,^ where he had occasionally Minister at u J Tt, J- .• Woking, 1776 preached. 1 he ordmation service was conducted by the Rev. Torial Joss and other ministers. "While I possess a Bible," said Joss, " I shall be at no loss to prove that William Huntington has received from God a call to the ministry ; " then turning to Huntington : " You may now take your axe and go to work."^ Huntington, who never resided at Woking, used to walk there from Thames Ditton every Sunday morning — a distance of fourteen miles. With his uncouth, clownish face and village-made clothes he presented so odd a figure in the pulpit, that John Chapman, on sitting under him for the first time, likened him to Job's wild ass's colt.* What with manual labour during the week, application to his studies, and this preaching at Woking, to say nothing of week-night services, Huntington's hands were full enough. "I found ^ See chap. 15 § 74. 2 Ben. Vol. 3 (B. of F.) p. 72. ' This saying made a considerable impression upon him. Under one of his portraits may be seen what he oddly called his coat of arms — an em- blematic picture, the principal figure of which is a woodcutter. * Ben. Vol. 6. p. 83. 42 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. Providence began to frown again," he says, "in order to keep me humble. However, all things worked together for my good ; for being kept daily dependent on God's providence by faith, I had the precious enjoyment of sweet communion with God ; and every day did His providence and gracious care appear more or less over me. I generally found those blessings the sweetest which had caused me the most importunity in prayer.'" Owing, as we said, to his campaign against drunkenness and profanity. Hunting- by Rioters, ton became unpopular ; and the storm, King Geopge , . i , i r i i i i comes to which had tor long threatened, at last broke over him in all its fury. At the signal of a shameless woman, named Mansfield,^ a mob of hardened ruffians one day burst into his meeting, burnt asafoetida, broke up the seats, and smashed the windows. It was in vain that Hunt- ington procured a warrant and hauled the princi- pal offenders before the bench ; and the ruffians, on being acquitted, attended him, hooting and jeering, back to Thames Ditton, in hats decorated with blue ribbons; while one of them, an upper ser- vant to some gentleman, swore, binding himself by many oaths, that he would muster an army and pull Huntington out of his hole — meaning the pulpit. As Huntington, with haggard face and sickened heart, re-entered his cottage, some of the people » Ben. Vol. 3 (B. of F.) p. 73. 'Ben. Vol. 2 {Naked Bow) p. 279. THAMES DITTON. 43 ran to the church and set the bells ringing ; others put torch to a bonfire and burnt him in effigy ; while one, more depraved than the rest, stood in front of his door, "preaching blasphemy." "All hell was let loose." Within, clothed in rags, and wearing his only shirt, Huntington knelt and prayed fervently, though he could scarcely hear his own words, owing to the din without, and the voices of his children at his side, crying for bread. Presently, as if in answer to his prayer, a storm, which had for some time been threatening, burst direct on the village. Thunders bellowed, light- nings flashed, rain fell in torrents, the rabble, im- pelled by the terror of God, fled in confusion, and Huntington, rising from his knees and spreading out his hands, exclaimed with fervour, " They that strive with Thee shall perish."' Leaving his home, he proceeded without molestation to his meeting, not, however, without Pxiisgivings, for he antici- pated that the braggart who had threatened to pull him out of the pulpit would endeavour to put the threat into execution. The man, however, failed to appear. He had been sent by his master on an errand to London, but in order to save his oath and execute his promise he rode home furiously. Scarcely had he arrived within earshot of the rioters when his horse threw him, and left him weltering in a pool of blood. In spite of these events Huntington continued to » Isaiah xli. ii ; P. L. 3, p. 326, and Ben. Vol. 2 {Naked Bow) p. 281. 44 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. preach regularly at Thames Ditton. On one occasion a larger crowd than usual assembled in order to annoy him, and serious rioting followed. In the middle of the tumult, king George happened to approach in his carriage; and, wondering what was afoot, he ordered the horses to be brought to a stand, and made enquiry. "It is only some affair between the town's people and the Methodists," was the reply. "The Methodists," observed the king, "are a quiet, good kind of people, and will disturb nobody ; if I can learn that any persons in my employ- ment disturb them, they shall be immediately dismissed." The king's sentiments, having spread to the crowd, had the the effect of restraining its violence. Life through, Huntington was accus- tomed to speak of king George — "our good old king" — with enthusiasm and affection, regarding him as the protector of Dissenters, and as a bul- wark against the papacy.' Writing to her parents on 4th September, 1778, Mrs. Huntington* says, "We have been in this place nearly three years, and have a little house to ourselves, which we have had these two years. The Lord has been wonderfully kind to us, has given us a pretty situation and between twenty and thirty pounds a year. We lived all our life I See p. L. 3. p. 175; 4, p. 47. '•The letter, though in Mrs. Huntington's handwriting, was inspired by Huntington. The original is in the possession of Mr. T. R. Hooper, of Redhill. It is printed in G. V. p. 31. THAMES DITTON. 45 until within these six years ignorant of a precious Saviour, but now God hath given us repentance and a spiritual birth,'" The next trouble was the discovery by Hunting- ton's enemies of his real name. He ^ 20. The Trou- had been preaching at Sunbury, where bie about he had lived as a gardener, and as he and his congregation were shamefully persecuted, he was compelled to put the law into motion.^ While the matter was in hand, a certain Richard Hughes, of Cranbrook, informed the rioters that he had known Huntington from childhood, and that his real name was Hunt. Then, in order to establish the truth of his statement, he visited one of Huntington's sisters, and having, under the colour of friendship, procured a letter from her, addressed to William Hunt, he delivered it trium- phantly at the door of the meeting, in the presence of a jeering crowd. Says Huntington, *' I received the letter, went in, and wept bitterly. After I had wept out my complaint I went into the pulpit to preach ; and how I felt in my spirit in the midst of so many enemies just furnished with matter for reproach, I shall leave those to guess who are tender of the honour of God." The hope had been nursed that the circumstance of Huntington's change of name would tell against him when the case came on at Hicks's Hall ; » In a letter of 20th Jan., 1780, Huntington and his wife invite her brother Benjamin to Thames Ditton. G. V. p. 35. »Ben. Vol. i. (K. of H.) p. 77. 46 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. but it proved fallacious, and the rioters were dis- comfited. Nevertheless, for two years Huntington felt the report lie " as a log to him." " Had I," said he, "been possessed of money enough, I would have left the nation, I was so troubled in my mind for fear of bringing a reproach on that blessed gospel that has done so much for me.'" He had hoped, he tells us, that his sin could have been concealed. Then the thought came, '* Abra- ham's idolatry, Jacob's lies, Moses' murder, David's adultery, Solomon's apostasy, Paul's bloody per- secutions, and the Rev. Mr. Huntington's forged name and his first-born son, must all come to light . . . that the world might see that the greatest grace could condescend to an ingraftiture in, and thrive and flourish on, the basest of men. By this means grace appears in all her lustre, and nature in all her pollution." After Huntington had preached in these Surrey 21. Margaret towns and villages nearly four years, a St. Chapel, wealthy and influential hearer found fault with his sermons, and obliged him to give up one of his little flocks. This treatment led him to turn his eyes to London, and when he received an invitation to preach in Margaret Street chapel. Cavendish Square, he promptly accepted. So one Sunday morning, with just twopence in the world, half of which he left with his wife, he set off" for his new field. He paid a halfpenny for toll at Hampton Court bridge, and gave the remaining ' Ben. Vol. i (K. of H.) p. 83. THAMES DITTON. 47 halfpenny to a beggar. " Then," said he, " I be- sought the Lord not to send any other person to ask alms of me until His bountiful hand had supplied my own wants." That morning, in a great bare chapel with a sparse congregation, Huntington, uncouth and hungry, but stirred by the Holy Spirit, preached his first London sermon. His earnestness, the even terrible intensity of his convictions, his homely figures drawn from byre and sheep-walk, his forceful vocabulary redolent of the Kentish weald, his occasional outbursts as poetical as Jeremy Taylor and as sublime as Milton, made every hearer hang upon his lips. In such a man- ner, time long passed, the rugged and awe-compel- ling Amos had roused and thrilled a somnolent and degenerate Israel. After the service some of the worshippers asked Huntington to call at their houses. They made him small gifts, and expressed the hope that he would preach to them again. In short, he had achieved success, and a new and wonderful vista expanded before him. At first — for of Greek and Latin he was innocent, in English grammar far to seek — he had gone about in some terror of the scourging tongues of critics. " But," he observes, " when God permitted me to come into company with any of these very learned per- sons, and they poured contempt on my expressions,' ' The expressions which they criticised were the very expressions — the idiomatic and forceful phrases — for which Huntington's works are now so justly famous. Very wisely he declined to emasculate his sinewy and breezy style in deference to a coterie of tasteless pedants. 48 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. I generally found them deficient in an experimental acquaintance of the work of the Spirit in their own souls." Huntington's cottage stood, as we have noticed, 22. He moves ^^ ^ very Vulgar neighbourhood. More- *House 'In'' over, the windows were so low that he T)iSon^ could not study at them without being Feb., 1780. exposed to the view of the rabble, who often threw stones at the glass or saluted him with oaths.' An opportunity for removing from it, how- ever, presently occurred, for he was offered a better house, with a large garden, in a respectable part of the village. At first — frightened by the cost of the fixtures — he abandoned the idea ; but, a few days after, a friend urged him to take it. One night, in a dream, he heard a voice which asked him for the price of the fixtures ; and he replied, " Lord, Thou knowest I cannot go, for I have not money enough." Then came the words, " Go to Mr. Munday, cutler, at Kingston, and he will lend you as much as you want." Next day, Mr. Munday, who had never before been in Huntington's house, called to see him, and on being asked for a loan readily granted it. So Huntington was able to move into the coveted house. By this time he stood in need of what he calls a *' new parsonic livery," wherefore, he 23. He Prays / , , , "^ ^ , , for Breeches, says, " m humble prayer 1 told my most blessed Lord and Master that my 1 Ben. Vol. 3, p. 79. THAMES DITTON. 49 year was out and my apparel bad ; that I had nowhere to go for these things but to Him ; and, as He had promised to give His servants food and raiment, I hoped He would fulfil His promise to me, though one of the worst of them." For long there was no response, but one day Huntington called by request at a gentleman's house near London. Indeed, he says " it had been impressed on my mind for six weeks before that God would use that gentleman as an instrument to furnish me with my next suit. And so it fell out ; for when I called on him, upon leaving his house he went a little way with me ; and while we were on the road he said, * I think you want a new suit of clothes.' I answered, ' Yes, sir, I do ; and I know a poor man that would be very glad of this which I have on, if my Master would furnish me with another.' In due course the suit came, the old one was passed on to the poor man, and Huntington for the time-being sang away care. The scenes of his labours were far distant from one another, and one week his work was exception- ally heav>^ On Sunday morning he preached at Woking, twelve miles from home, in the afternoon at Worplesdon, three miles further on, and in the evening at Farnham, fourteen miles from Worples- don. He preached on the Monday at Petworth, on Tuesday at Horsham, these places being respectively thirty-five and twenty-five miles from home. Before he could reach Thames Ditton on 50 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. the Wednesday morning he was so exhausted that he nearly dropped on the road. However, he somehow dragged himself home. He was ex- pected to preach in London — fourteen miles dis- tant — the same evening. *' Finding myself," he says, " wholly unable to perform all this labour, I went to prayer and besought God to give me more strength, less work, or a horse. I used my prayers as gunners use their swivels, turning them every way, as the various cases required." Over and over again in his works he insists that success in prayer is not attained by acts of velleity' — by in- dolent or perfunctory expressions of desire. In The Barber he says, " As a sailor, in a story, is sup- posed to use all the skill he is master of, so should a Christian on his knees. All his light and know- ledge ought to be in full exercise."^ Having put up his prayer, Huntington hired a horse, rode to town, and directed his way to the livery stables of one of his hearers. " The man," says Huntington, ** blessed God for sending me there. He also said that some of my friends had been gathering money to buy me a horse, and that he gave something towards it. Directly after I found the horse was bought and paid for ; and one person gave me a guinea to buy a bridle, another two whips, a third some things necessary for the stable, another trusted me for a saddle ; and here 1 On this subject see also ch. 8 § 42. 2 Ben. Vol. 10 (The Barber) p. 177. THAMES DITTON. 51 was a full answer to my prayer. So I mounted my horse and rode home ; and he turned out as good an animal as ever was ridden." Huntington's next requirement, and his prayer for it, have perhaps contributed more than any- thing else to his fame in a giddy and shallow world. Just as Berridge is known to the million simply on account of his jocosities respecting " the Everton ass"; just as Toplady is known owing to his belief that brutes are immortal, so Huntington is remembered, even by the most indifferent, as the man who prayed for a pair of breeches. "Having now," he says, "had my horse for some time, and riding a great deal every week, I soon wore my breeches out. I therefore told my most bountiful and ever adored Master what I wanted. I often made very free in my prayers for this favour, but He still kept me so amazingly poor that I could not get them at any rate. At last I determined to go to a friend of mine at Kingston, who is of that branch of business, to bespeak a pair, and to get him to trust me until my Master sent me money to pay him. However, when I passed the shop I forgot it ; but when I came to London I called on Mr. Crouch,* a shoemaker in Shepherd's Market, who told me a parcel was left there for me, but what it was he knew not. I opened it, and behold there was a pair of leather breeches, with a note in them ! the substance of * By mistake spelt Croucher in TheBank of Faith. See Stevens, p. 23. 52 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. which was, to the best of my remembrance, as follows : " Sir, I have sent you a pair of breeches, and hope they will fit. I beg your acceptance of them ; and if they want any alteration, leave in a note what the alteration is, and I will call in a few days and alter them." After trying them on, Huntington left answer to this effect : " Sir, I received your present, and thank you for it. I was going to order a pair of leather breeches to be made, because I did not know till now that my Master had bespoke them of you. They fit very well, which fully convinces me that the same God who moved thy heart to give, guided thy hand to cut, because He perfectly knows my size, having clothed me in a miraculous manner for nearly five years. When you are in trouble, sir, I hope you will tell my Master of this, and what you have done for me, and He will repay you with honour." A little later Huntington took gospel courage and prayed for a bed. " Perceiving," he says, " that the Lord approved of a bold, though not of a presumptuous, beggar, agreeably to His word, * Let us come boldly unto the throne of grace/ &c., I boldly asked Him the favour, and persevered in it." A gift of four guineas which ultimately arrived he accepted as an answer to his petition. " Oh," he comments, ** what Christian in his right THAMES DITTON. 53 mind would murmur and complain at his poverty, when, with a watchful eye, he sees such liberal supplies poured forth from the inexhaustible stores of Providence ! '" Then he prayed for other things which he sadly needed ; but his faith and patience were some- times tried for weeks together. Every door seemed shut, and he could not see from what quarter his needs were to be supplied. " You know, reader," he comments, " we are all very fond of running before God ; but He takes His own pace."^ One by one his various wants were supplied by God's providential bounty — the gift for which he was most grateful being a horseman's coat, to keep him warm and dry during his long rides over the wet and windy Middlesex and Surrey commons. The calls of a rapidly-increasing family often put his dear Molly into embarrassing straits. " She had cut up almost all chapman's » 11 ». TT • ,/ 1 stuff-damask. her old gowns, says Huntmgton, "and she stood in great need of a new one. I told her I had no money, that there was no likelihood of getting any, and that she must beg it of God. I had now a great desire to see whether she would have any success at a throne of grace. It passed on, however, for a long time before the gown appeared ; but at last it came in this manner : after preaching at Margaret Street Chapel one 1 Ben. Vol. 3 (B. of F.) p. 94. • Ben. Vol. 3, p. 96. Cf. Ch. 13 § 67. 54 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. evening, a person delivered a parcel into my hands, and when I opened it, there was a note with these words, * This is a present for Mrs. Huntington.' It contained twelve yards of cotton to make a gown. Who the person was that gave it I never knew from that hour to this. I carried it home to Thames Ditton, where it gave great satisfaction, and Molly was not a little delighted to find that God had granted the request of her lips.'" Both Huntington and his wife were indebted for numerous benefits to their kind friends the Chap- mans. One morning, for instance, Mrs. Chapman came to him smiling and told him she had twelve yards of stuff-damask, which she intended to make him a present of for a morning gown. " I laughed," says Huntington, " and told her that I thought a coalheaver would cut a strange figure in a morn- ing gown. I should appear like a beggar in dignity ; but that was better than dignity in ruins. I there- fore turned it into a banyan or coat."- A little later Mr. Chapman moved from Hounslow Heath to Petersham, where he had a room fitted up pur- posely for the accommodation of Huntington when duty called him into the neighbourhood.^ 1 Ben. Vol. 3, p. ii6. ' Ben. Vol. 3, p. 121. s This room is referred to in Ben. Vol. 6, p. 84. Some verses which Huntington wrote on it and its contents may be seen in The Spiritual Magazine and Zion's Casket for 1839, p. 125. They begin, " Kind Christian, hear thy simple doom Before you use the prophet's room." CHAPTER VII JUNE, 1782 — DEC, 1785 THE FIRST PROVIDENCE CHAPEL One evening, after preaching at Woking, Hunt- ington returned home dog-tired; and, having dragged himself to bed, he fell moves to 29 into a sound sleep. In a dream he row, London. 1782 thought he heard the Lord call to him, with a very shrill, distinct voice, saying, " Son of man, prophesy!" " Lord, what shall I prophesy ? " enquired Hunt- ington. The voice answered, "Prophesy upon the thick boughs.'" "I immediately awoke," says Huntington, "and felt a comfortable power on my heart. I got up and traced my Bible to see if I could find those words there. I soon found them,"* and perceived the thick boughs to be men." While pondering the occurrence he suddenly entered upon the resolu- tion to leave Thames Ditton and take a house in London, where hearers were more numerous, for he doubted not that it was to London the vision directed him. Under this impulse he found him- iBen. Vol. 3, p. 131. '"The expression, strangely enough, is not to be found in the Bible" — Rev. W. J. Styles. Huntington, however, refers it to Ezekiel xvii. 23; xxxi. 3. 56 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. self tumultuously happy. "It was further sug- gested to my mind," said he, "that God had per- mitted the people of Thames Ditton lately to persecute me more than usual that they might wholly drive the gospel from them.'" So he shook off the dust of his feet against the people of Thames Ditton and left them to their vinous vicar and their alehouse morality. Before marriage Huntington, as we have seen, had carried the whole of his worldly goods in a handkerchief, later a sack sufficed, but when in 1782 he removed to his new home, 29 Winchester Row, Paddington, he loaded two large carts with furniture and other necessaries, besides a postchaise well filled with children and cats.'' At the time Huntington began his ministry at Margaret Street Chapel, London could 26. Provi- ^ . dence Chapel boast a number of distinguished preach- erected, 1 783 ^ , ^^ , , • , , ers. In the Establishment there were John Newton at St. Mary Woolnoth, and Wil- liam Romaine at St. Andrew Wardrobe and St. Ann's, Blackfriars; among the Nonconformists, John Clayton, senior, who preached to the fashion- able congregation of the King's Weigh House in lavender kid gloves; Rowland Hill, two-thirds saint and one-third wag, who attracted crowds to Surrey Chapel; Abraham Booth at Prescott Street, Whitechapel, and John Rippon, of hymnbook ' In his Waited Bow he describes a number of "awful judgments that befell a number of the people of Thames Ditton." ^Ben. Vol. 3 (B, of F.) pp. 134. 241. FIRST PROVIDENCE CHAPEL. 57 celebrity, at Carter Lane ; to say nothing of the able men who supplied the Countess of Hunting- don's' three chapels, Spa Fields, Sion, and the Tabernacle. " It was felt," observes the Rev. W. J. Styles, "that the peasant preacher differed from all the rest, and in many respects excelled them. None so boldly proclaimed the grace of God in its full-orbed glory; none so ably analysed the ever- varying experience of the Christian, or detected spurious religiousness in all the windings of its subtle delusions or open impostures with such faithful discrimination; none spoke words 'in season to the weary' with such tenderness. Wholly unconventional in style, natural in manner and original in matter, he presented the strongest contrast to every other living preacher. Sorely was such testimony needed, it came to hundreds as good news from a far country, and the mes- senger was welcomed as sent of God."- Enemies he had in abundance, but neither insult nor rebuff could chill the ardour of the new preacher. His fame spread like wildfire, the num- bers of his regular hearers rapidly increased, and he then became ambitious to have a chapel of his own — one reason being his distress on account of the crying errors that were publicly broached by other preachers in the same building.^ " But," says he, "though I so much desired this, yet I 'Lady Huntingdon lived till 1791. Whitefield had been dead 13 years. ^Earthen Vessel, 1906, p. 326 (Nov.) 'Ben. Vol. 3. p. 106. 58 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. could not ask God for such a favour, thinking it was not to be brought about by one so very mean, low, and poor as myself." His people, however, were soon as anxious as he for a chapel of their very own ; the idea fructified, and their choice eventually fell on a plot of ground in Titchfield Street. "Then," says Huntington, "God stirred up a wise man to offer to build the chapel and to manage the whole work without fee or reward." Huntington took the ground, the "wise man" exe- cuted the plan, and the building, named appropri- ately Providence Chapel, shot up as if by enchant- ment. The story of its erection, and of the enthusiasm displayed by Huntington and his adherents, is told circumstantially in the Bank of Faith. One good man presented the timber, another came "with tears in his eyes" and desired to paint the pulpit, another gave chairs for the vestry, and so on. " I never," says Huntington, "went to one person to borrow money for the building who denied me. God so opened their hearts that I was amazed at His providence and their kindness towards me." None of his friends, however, stood so bravely 27. James & by him at this conjuncture as Mr. and Peg Baker, y^^^ ]2.mes Baker'— the James and Old Peg so often and so affectionately alluded to in his letters. " While the chapel was building," he says, " when money was continually demanded, if there 1 Of 226 Oxford Street. FIRST PROVIDENCE CHAPEL. 59 was one shilling in their house I was sure to have it." Many years after, when he wrote The Bank of Faith, he said, " God never suffered their souls to get one morsel of the Bread of Life but under me ; and it is seldom that one quarter has rolled over my head for these sixteen years but that I have stood in need of some assistance from them : thus God tied us together. These friends, at that time, were my largest creditors ; but I knew I was safe enough in their hands.'" All difficulties having been surmounted, " this precious scripture,'* he says, " came sweet to my soul, * He will fulfil the desire of them that fear Him.' Thus the chapel appeared as an answer to the earnest desire which God had kindled in my heart." On the opening day he prayed fervently for God's blessing upon the building, using these words : " O Lord, whom the heaven of heavens cannot contain, much less the little house which we have built, make it a blessing to thousands ! Direct the steps of Sabbath-breakers, blasphemers, and the basest of mortals to tread its floors ; let sovereign grace and dying love be displayed in their greatest power and in their fullest latitude, and grant that when Thou writest up the people it may be said of millions that this and that man was born of God there." The chapel rapidly filled. Some, no doubt, went impelled by a consuming curiosity, but the » Ben. Vol. 3, p. 199 ; James Baker often attended Huntington on errands of mercy. See Ben. Vol. 20, p. 267, where we read of them visit- ing and praying over an afflicted lad — John Enovy. 6o LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. vast majority sought religious help and direction. Men and their wives — many of them working people^ — tramped thither from Whitechapel and Bow, there were butchers from Fleet Market, draymen from the Borough, perfumers from Soho, Cheapside linen-drapers and linen-drapers' assist- ants, Bermondsey tanners ; while later, as we shall see, a number of wealthy men and men of title became regular or occasional hearers. In short the chapel was erected, the preacher was in the pulpit, Huntington's place in life which, to borrow the phraseology of an old sage, had so long been seeking after him, had at last grappled its prey, and Huntington was on the high road to becoming the instrument, in the hands of the Almighty, of leading a multitude to the knowledge of gospel truth. He amused himself with the idea that his chapel was a kind of Noah's Ark,' and he returns again and again in his letters, many of which are addressed from " The Cabin, on board the Provi- dence," to this favourite notion. Her anchor was Good Hope, her cable Faith, her deck Assurance, she was planked with Salvation, Election was her keel. Glory her pennant, and she never struck to an enemy. There was indeed an unmistakable dash of tar in Huntington's blood. Perhaps some tough old ancestor of his lent a hand under Drake and Frobisher, and helped to upset the calculations of 1 One of his seals was engraved with a Noah's Ark and a dove over it. Another bore the initials " W.H., S.S." SeeCh. 9 § 46. FIRST PROVIDENCE CHAPEL. 6i King Philip and " the Scarlet Woman." How Huntington loved his church, how he revelled in his labours, readers of his letters are fully aware. Once after a lengthy absence from London he wrote, " I begin to long to see the darling of my soul — I mean the old lady at Providence Chapel ; for I see no church like her ; '" and he not infre- quently referred proudly to his congregation (" the ship's company," perhaps we should have said) as *' the seed royal." They never failed to respond generously to his appeals. After the sermon one Christmas morning, he said, *' You are in the habit of making presents at this season ; now don't forget my clerk [a Mr. Katterns, who had also been clerk to the Rev. Joseph Hart] .* He is old and needs help, and he will thank you." As the congregation filed out, one person after another put something into Mr. Katterns' hand. On arriving home the old man emptied his pockets, filling a plate full of guineas and half-guineas, and when he could explain himself, all the family " wept aloud at the Lord's goodness."^ "The Cabin," which we mentioned, was a tiny 28. The room behind the chapel, its name being Cabin, inscribed in gilt letters over the door. Huntington went there early every Saturday morning. He ate his meals at an adjoining house, 1 P.L. 2, p. 99. Letter, 6 May. 1796. ' Hart died in 1768, aged 56. The first edition of his hymns appeared in 1759. See Gospel Advocate, 1873, and Earthen Vessel, 1877. 3 Gospel Advocate, 1873. p. 45. There is an account of Miss Katterns (his daughter) in the Gospel Standard, 1868, p. 186. 62 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. where he slept on the Saturday and Sunday nights, but later he had a bed (not a hammock, unfor- tunately) in the cabin itself, and he spent at least one half of every week in this little room, plying his studies or writing his letters or books. Mon- days he devoted to correspondence. He preached again on Monday evening; and on Tuesday he visited his friends and the sick, and attended St. Andrew Wardrobe to hear the Rev. William Romaine, a custom which he continued till Romaine's death.' For the famous Evangelical minister and his works^ he had indeed an intense admiration, and the feeling was reciprocated. In a letter to Huntington Romaine said, "When thou goest to court remember me, as I remember you;" and when Huntington combated the theological opinions of Mr. E. Winchester, which he did in a work called Advocates for Devils Refuted,^ Romaine assisted him by supplying Hebrew and Greek words with their significations.'* There are many references in Huntington's let- ters to his dear little cabin, his little cot, his little oven, as he variously and affectionately styled it. **I am here," he writes to a friend,^ "in my little cabin at the chapel, day and night, and no spot so sacred and so highly esteemed by me as this — it * Romaine died 26th July, 1795. On hearing the news Huntington observed, "There's no one to go and hear in London now." ^The Life of Faith and The Walk of Faith. See P. L. 2, p. 341. ^In 1794. Ben. Vol. 12. * See also chapter 17. *Mrs. Everest, of Sevenoaks. G. V. p. 40. FIRST PROVIDENCE CHAPEL. 63 is to me Bethel — Mount Tabor — the hill Mizar. Many a load have I cast off here, and many a heavenly ray, many a sweet foretaste of better days have I had in this little cot." "I am now in my cabin," he says in another letter, "my sweet, my lovely retreat. God, and none but God, knows how many struggles, blessings, and praises I have sent up from this delightful oven."' Later he writes, "The life and soul of real religion lies in being alone with God, and in seeking His blessed face by humble prayer; the little cabin and my own bedchamber are the favourite and conse- crated spots for this business."^ Privileged friends were detained to drink a dish of coffee in this enchanted retreat,^ and an invitation to breakfast with king George would scarcely have been re- garded as a greater honour. Huntington rarely lost an opportunity even on a week-day of leading persons to serious 29. "The thoughts, and the following passage, '^M^tter^is^ from The Bank of Faith, illustrates his ^°""^ '" '^®" mode of action. "I had been doing," he says, "a little work in my flower garden ; and, finding that it wanted a few additional roots, I went to a garden at a little distance from my house to look over a few things. While I was walking about by myself among the flowers, a well-dressed, motherly-look- ing woman stepped up to me, and supposing me iP. L. 3, p. 376, to Charles Martin. 'P. L. I, p. io6. to James Baker, and G. V. p. 125. 3P. L. 2, 102. 64 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. to be the gardener, she said in a jocose manner: * Now, Mr. Gardener, I want a root to put in my pot; and it must be a root that will last.' I looked up very seriously, and replied, 'Well, I believe I can tell you where you may get such a root.' At this she smilingly asked, ' Where ? ' I answered, 'In the book of Job, for he says, "The root of the matter is found in me,"^ and if you can get that root into your pot, the root and the pot both will last for ever.' She then asked, 'And pray, have you that root in you ? ' I answered her, ' I verily believe I have.' Upon which she said, ' It is well with you.' I then told her I was not the gardener. She dropped a curtsey and departed with a smile. Soon after both the lady and her husband came to hear me, and have continued to do so ever since. God grant that the word of His grace may take deep root in their hearts. '"* To this text from Job Huntington was continu- ously partial. It appears under his earliest por- trait; in The Justification of a Sinner^ he says, "The best botanist is the man who can give the most saving description of the Tree of life, that blessed Plant of renown.* Job tells you the root of it was found in him ;" and he cites it in other books. By this time he had turned his attention to 'Job xix. 28. aBen. Vol. 3, p. 155. 3Ben. Vol. 4, p. 37. * Justification of a Sinner, Ben. Vol. 4, p. 37. The idea is from Ezek. xxxiv. 29. WM. HUNTINGTON, S.3. "The root of the matter is found in me." — Job xix. 28. See p. 64. FIRST PROVIDENCE CHAPEL. 65 authorship; and, appropriately enough, ^^ ,.^^^ his first publication was, as might be Bank of ^ . ' ^. Faith/and expected from a ship's captain, a "The Kingdom ... 1-11 -11 of Heaven composition m verse which he entitled, Taken by A Spiritual Sea Voyage.^ This uncouth production (for he had not the slightest aptitude for poetry) was followed by two quasi-autobio- graphical works. The Arminian Skeleton and The Naked Bow, both written in racy, virile English — preface and text being equally excellent, while page after page is studded with arresting thoughts. The Armhtian Skeleton is a vigorous defence of the gospel of free and sovereign grace, and a hip and thigh attack on the opponents of the doctrine of election, and on the Romanists in particular. " Popish rules and God's decrees," he says, " are, and ever will be, two different things. God gives heaven, and the pope cannot sell it."^ Passages like the following appeal to all Christians, whatever the shade of their belief : " Oh, what a blessed thing it is to be taught by the Spirit of God, and to be guided into all truth by Him that never erred ! Reader, if thou lackest wisdom, ask it of God, who giveth liberally and upbraideth not."^ The Naked Bow is a relation of the judgments that fell upon various persons who persecuted him ; thus, one man was crushed by a cart, another went * His other attempts in verse include that terrible piece of doggerel, A Divine Poem on the Shunatnite [Ben. Vol. 7, p. i] and two " hymns." 2 Ben. Vol. 2, p. 98. ' Ben. Vol. 2, p. 103. ^ 66 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. raving mad, a third was prostrated by illness. Admittedly it was presumptuous of Huntington to assume that all the calamities came upon these persons on account of their unscrupulous opposi- tion to his labours ; and life through it was a characteristic failing with him to triumph over the fall of his enemies ; nevertheless it is a fact (explain it as one may) that all who persecuted him — and his persecutors were many — came to violent ends. " I never heard anyone prosper," said Dr. Butler, " who opposed Mr. Huntington." But if Huntington was subjected to a storm of calumny such as few men have had to endure, it fell harmless enough on the man whose mind was stayed on God — the man who disdainfully defined " Fortune, Luck, and Chance " as " The Trinity of Fools."^ It was not, however, till the appearance of his fourth publication, the first part of his famous Bank of Faith J that Huntington emerged as a writer of the first order. Few men have read this work without being powerfully moved. It appeals alike to the learned and to the illiterate. In popularity it is rivalled by only one other religious book, The Pilgrwi's Progress. There is no attempt at grand writing. Everything penned by Huntington came spontaneously and direct from the heart. It is the record of God's goodness to him. The style is the man, and The Bank of Faith is, next to The » The Naked Bow. FIRST PROVIDENCE CHAPEL. 67 Kingdom of Heaven, Huntington's finest portrait. Not once or twice it reaches the sublime. If Huntington, as we said, was incapable of writing poetry — and indeed his most laboured attempts in that art are the pitifulest doggerel — nevertheless the best passages of The Bank of Faith act upon the reader almost like the music of Milton. And, as will be inferred, Huntington was a deep student of that glorious poet. Indeed, the Bible, with its melodious cadences, Milton, and Pitt's Virgil were for long practically his only books ;' but, to use his own expression, he had gone through-stitch' with them. Like all other Christians, he was pas- sionately fond of the Psalms, and against the 112th he wrote in his Bible, "This is all my own." The central thought in The Bank of Faith is one that has affinity to the passage recently quoted from The Naked Bow, namely, " Carnal reason always traces everything from God to second causes, and there leaves them floating upon uncertainties ; but faith traces them up to their first cause, and fixes them there, by which means God's hand is known and Himself glorified." Referring to unbelievers, he observ'es, scornfully and finely, " They have attributed the government of the world to blind fortune, and the glory that is due to God is ascribed to a phantom on a wheel. "^ ' See, however, § 33, p. 76. '^ His books abound in these striking expressions. This occurs in the Preface to The Coalheaver atnong the Bats. 8B. of F., p. 17. 68 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. The greater part of the book, as need hardly be observed, is occupied with the story of Hunting- ton's trials and the answers which he received to his prayers. The captious objected that to ask for carnal things betrays a carnal heart. " It is true," comments Huntington, " if a man follows Christ for loaves and fishes it certainly does. But for a believer in Christ and a labourer in His vineyard to ask his heavenly Father to bless the work of His hands, and to send him food and raiment, shows just as much carnality as the Saviour's looking up to heaven for a blessing to multiply the barley loaves." Other persons bought the book in order to ridicule it ; and then complained that it pro- voked not laughter but tears. These first four works of Huntington were fol- lowed by a long procession of others — nearly a hundred in number. Among those issued in 1784 was the first part of his immortal autobiography, The Kingdom of Heaven Taken by Prayer ; and it must here be observed, though the interesting fact has escaped the notice of previous writers, that this book was the first Huntington wrote ; for, in the passage describing the death of Barnabas Russell,' he refers to his mother as still living. *' And what will be- come of my poor mother?" he asks. "God only knows. She sticks close to the Church, and fre- quents the Lord's table, and yet," &c. But Hunt- ington's mother was buried, as the Cranbrook 1 Ben. Vol. i (K. of H.) p. 212. FIRST PROVIDENCE CHAPEL. 69 register shows, on 26th April, 1781. So The Kingdom of Heaven Taken by Prayer must have been written previous to that date ; as a matter of fact, the history in it is carried only to the year 1775, and thus weight is added to the Rev. W. Sinden's sug- gestion that the book was wrung from Huntington " by the foul assaults of his enemies." The Kingdom of Heaven has been truthfully described as " one of the most remarkable dis- plays of the grace of God ever given to the Church of Christ." It teems with haunting passages — the finest — that describing his vision in the pear tree — being one of the most sublime and beautiful in English literature. But the circumstantial stories of his early sufferings at Cranbrook, of his love for Susan Fever, of his Cain-like wanderings, of his search for gospel truths at the lips of worthless clerg>'men, and a score of other episodes, all eat themselves deeply into the memory. To read this book, with its fine English, its realism, and its con- fidence in an over-ruling Providence,' is an epoch in the life of any seriously-minded and unpreju- diced man. It is a great book, because in it Huntington has laid bare his inmost soul. He dared to set down, with a courage that not one man in a century- possesses, the unadorned, naked truth. There is nothing of the kind to be compared with it in literature, save Rousseau's Confessions — a work which, with all its realism, falls behind Hunting- ' "If you would like to see the method in which God taught and led me, it is published in my book, "The Kingdom of Heaven Taken by Prayer." Ben. Vol. 6, p. 137. 70 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. ton's unaffected, but touching and stimulating, story. Compared with Huntington, indeed, Rousseau is of the earth earthy. The Kingdom of Heaven Taken by Prayer and The Bank of Faith have increased the hope and intensified the faith of tens of thousands ; nay, milHons have blessed God for the gift of William Huntington. Though it would be difficult to bestow too much praise on the virile and idiomatic style of this book ; never- theless, to the graces of composition Huntington gave little attention. He wrote well because writ- ing well came natural to him. His aim was not to titillate the palate of the literary epicure, but to bring home to the plain man the joyousness of a life of dependence on the Almighty, and to pro- claim the doctrine of free grace.' " Bunyan's Grace Abounding, Hart's Experience, Huntington's Kingdom of Heaven — where, in the whole range of spiritual reading," asks the Rev. J. C. Philpot, " can we find three more edifying books ? They are the concentrated kernel of well-nigh everything else that these gracious men of God wrote."^ Huntington's next important work was Part i of Epistles of Faith. Part 2 appeared not ^^ "o/pittli^^ till 1797, but we may at once consider ^/l• ^Zf^\ the work as a whole.^ Its burden — and Miss Morton. it consists of a portion of Huntington's 1 We may notice that while Huntington was writing The Kingdom of Heaven, Cowper and Newton were engaged on Olney Hymns. " Saviour, if of Zion's city, I through grace a member am," sang Newton. 2 Reviews, Vol. i,p. 128. 8 It occupies Vols. 5 and 6 of Bensley's Ed. FIRST PROVIDENCE CHAPEL. 71 correspondence — is similar to that of The Kingdom of Heaven, namely, the Joy of the life of Faith. In the early editions of the work prominence was given to the correspondence between Huntington and a Miss E. Morton,' a lady who, though of a Protestant family, had become, owing to resi- dence abroad, a " rigid Roman Catholic." On her return to England, she was led by curiosity to hear Huntington ; and his ministry having fallen with weight upon her mind, she determined to write to him. In detailing her experiences of the confes- sional, she observes that it is a shame for women to approach it : "If they were never wise in the scenes of iniquity before, the priest will be sure to instruct them by asking such indecent questions that a modest woman would blush to think of." This gave Huntington one of those opportunities which he never neglected of making an onslaught on the evils of Roman Catholicism, and he straight- way brought to bear upon them all his remarkable powers of argument, humour and satire."* Another Roman Catholic lady, who had been spending her money in order to procure her father's release from purgatory, told him that she had borrowed a Bible which she read by stealth, adding, "This blessed book I had not, for the priests take great care to * Afterwards Mrs. Spohn. * The correspondence between Huntington and Miss Morton was after- wards (in 1787) issued as a separate work with the title. Popish Contro- versy : Letters front and to Miss E. Morton, &c. It was reprinted in 1853, and reviewed that year in the Gospel Standard. Miss Morton also published The Daughter's Defence of her Father, a pamphlet in praise of Huntington. 72 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. keep their deluded flock in utter darkness.'" In reply, Huntington tells her that the Romish purga- tory is " a well- spun device of Satan," and that " redemption and salvation are of God, not of man, of grace, not works, and not to be bought with gold and silver."^ Though Huntington never laid claim to presci- ence, nevertheless, now and again overcome by his patriotism and his detestation of the abominations of Rome, he expressed his beliefs in terms which trenched on the prophetic. Popery, he said, was spreading and would spread. His great hope was, under God, in "the good old king" — George HI., and he believed the crisis to be at hand when the king fell with his last and incurable malady. He calculated that the Papal power would increase till i866,3 or at farthest 1870, when would come its downfall. As we all know, in the fifties and sixties the patriot Garibaldi was leading his countrymen in battle for Italian independence, and in the very year mentioned by Huntington, 1870, the Italian troops marched into Rome and over- threw the temporal power of the Pope. "Popery," Huntington used to say, "will so increase in this country that we shall have the fires of Smithfield once more flaring, and the battle of the Reforma- tion will have to be fought over again." But surely Knox, Bunyan, and Huntington himself lived 1 Ben. Vol. 5. p. 325. 2 Ben. Vol. 5. p. 335. 3 See also P. L. iv. 14. FIRST PROVIDENCE CHAPEL. 73 not in vain; surely Cranmer, Latimer, and Ridley (glorious men !) died not in vain. We cannot imagine England surrendering the Bible and the beautiful hymns of Hart, Toplady, Cowper and Newton, and making use in their place of the bal- derdash customarily addressed to the Virgin Mary and other ineffectual. Nevertheless, at the present day, when priests and nuns, ejected for political intrigue from France, are flocking into England ; when convents are rising in all direc- tions ; and the Romanist is straining every nerve in order to obtain possession of our children, the following words of Huntington cannot fail to arrest attention. " Popery," he says, " may find a basis here, when it is rased to the foundation there [in France] , and while their paths are occu- pied with the feet of saints, ours may be swarming alive with mumping friars." In another letter he says, "The Pope's religion will prevail in this country; though, like a soldier's tent, it will not stay long.'" The burden of the book, however, is, as we said before, the Joy of the life of Faith. "Faith is an eye," observes Huntington, "and sees the wonderful works of God both in grace and in providence ; yea, she pries into His eternal council and at times sees Him who is invisible ; Faith, if she is let alone, will make her despicable habita- tion stand firm against all assaults ; for she estab- lishes her house on a rock. In short, that man is 1 Letter to Rev. Isaac Beeman. P. L. iv. p. 419. 74 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. eternally rich who has her, for God is his portion. That is a precious faith that will never give up prayer till it gets relief ; that is a precious faith that persuades the mind it shall surely obtain its request even when there are no visible signs of it;"^ and we may notice that, in an unpublished letter, he says, after referring to the Almighty, ''He is a God that hideth Himself that we may seek Him the more earnestly;"^ while he writes on 6th June, 1784,3 in reference to times of trouble and distress, "Faith is a salamander, she can exist in the flames."'* The letters also contain advice to cor- respondents on a multitude of subjects. A young woman informs Huntington that she is about to marry an irreligious person. He replies with severity and urges her to change her mind. A poor widow confides her troubles to him, and he comforts her with Scripture assurances. Now and again we come upon a passage — that for example about the brilliant star seen by an over-enthusi- astic admirer over Huntington's head' — ^which could with advantage have been omitted. We ^Ben. Vol. 5, pp. 29, 31, 41. In Contemplations on the God of Israel he calls Faith "the visive faculty of the heaven-born soul," Ben. Vol. 19, p. 340. 'To Elizabeth Blaker. 26 July, 1802 (Miss Caffin's Col.) ^Ben. Vol. 5, p. 42. ^ Later books, by Huntington, and particularly The Rule and the Riddle (1789), also deal happily with the subject of Faith. In one place he says, "If to see the Son, and believe on Him, entitles us to everlasting life according to God's will, then Faith must be the rule of that life." Ben. Vol. 8, p. 58. In The Way and the Fare, Ben. Vol. 8, p. 34, he says, "AfHictions are good for us; when the grain is put into the sieve the chaff rises and iiies away; " in Lamentations of Satan (p. 33), " Faith is a golden wedge in the fire." ^Ben. Vol. 6, p. 109. FIRST PROVIDENCE CHAPEL. 75 must by no means, however, overlook that purple passage — the remarks on extempore prayer and the way to excel in it.' Put compendiously, the rule insisted upon is this, "Watch Providence, and the material for prayer will flow in abundance." The importance of watching Providence, indeed, is one of Huntington's great themes. 32. jhe Writing to a friend late in life he says, ISfrovidenc? " It has been my daily and hourly employ for upwards of thirty years to watch the hand and handiworks of the Almighty in directing my steps, supplying my wants, fixing my residence, supporting my soul, instructing my mind, shining upon my way, and delivering me out of innumer- able adversities. . . . Give thy mind to reading divine things, meditate on them, and with all simplicity crave God's help, guidance, and assist- ance through a Redeemer — then watch the dis- plays of His power, and acknowledge His care and the bounties of His hand. Nothing, no nothing, ennobles the mind, enriches the soul, or fortifies the man, like a hope and trust in God through Jesus Christ."^ In The Naked Bow he says, " Christian reader, if such thou art, daily observa- tions of the judgments, mercies and providences of God are very establishing to faith. . . . Trials and difficulties have a tendency to lead us into this heavenly art of watchfulness."^ " That state is ^Ben. Vol. 6, p. 49. ' G. V. pp. 60, 61. s Ben. Vol. 2 (The Naked Bow) pp. 257, 258. 76 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. surely the best," he says in The Bank of Faith, " which keeps you dependent on God and thank- ful to Him ; and so you shall find it to the end.'" He often cheered his correspondents by urging them to rejoice in their providences, and by assuring them that these providences were as nothing com- pared with what would follow. Thus in a letter to Mrs. Golden, of Otford,"^ he says beautifully : "All that goes before is only His train, His traces, His footsteps, or the utmost skirts of His robe, for He is clothed with light. Nevertheless, take notice and observe every approach, every word spoken, and every visit that He pays thee, and call them Gad, for behold a troop cometh. And take my advice, pen every word^ spoken by Him down, together with the account of the support and relief, encouragement or enlargement, that attend it." When on these mighty themes, indeed, Hunting- ton is at his very best, and at such times his words have the weight, the momentum, and occasionally the rhythm, of those of a Hebrew prophet. On an earlier page* I called Huntington the man 33. A Present ^^ three books ; but as his position im- of Books, proved, his library increased. Seeing, however, that he was often obliged to deny him- self, for lack of means, a gift made to him at this 1 Ben. Vol. 3, p. 20. 2 Written probably in 1800. First published in The Christian's Path- way, Feb., 1904. 3 See ch. 16 § 78. * § 30. p. 67. FIRST PROVIDENCE CHAPEL. 77 time of 400 volumes — chiefly works on divinity and history — proved particularly acceptable. Thanks to it he was able to enlarge his knowledge considerably. Still his old loves, the Bible, Milton, and Pitt's Virgil, continued to be his mainstay. To his intimate knowledge of the Bible even his bitterest enemies have borne witness ; Milton, *' the learned Milton," '' the pathetic Milton," he cites again and again, and always with felicity' ; while he took pleasure in trying to shame Christians by pointing to the insight exhibited by the brilliant pagan.^ In his Last Will and Testament he gives two lists^ — one of good books, another of those to which he objected. In the former he, of course, placed first " that most blessed book of God, the Holy Bible." Others dear to him were Elisha Cole's Treatise on the Sovereignty of God; Thomas Boston's Fourfold State; that "golden phoenix in its cage," The Pilgrim's Progress ; The Jerusalem Sinner Saved (also by Bunyan) ; Romaine's Life of Faith and Walk of Faith; and Marshall's Gospel Mystery of Sanctification. " Read cheerful books," he used to say. " Read Bunyan's Come and Welcome to Jesus Christy But it was possible, he insisted, to be too deep in books. He complained that so many men, instead of trying to exercise their 1 E.g. Ben. Vol. iii. p. 214 ; iv. 47, 48, 212 ; v. 197 ; vii. 372, 375. ' E.g. Ben. Vol. i. pp, 207, 209; xii. 368. One of his favourite pas- sages in Milton was the apostrophe to the Holy Spirit in Book I. His frequent prayer was, " What in me is dark illumine, what is low raise and support." 3 Ben. Vol. 2, p. 341. Written in 1784. 78 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. natural talents and to express their own indi- viduality, were satisfied with becoming mere pieces of patchwork, made out of bits and scraps from the classics. " The greatest part of our university- education," he says, " consists in plundering the natural abilities of the heathens. I have observed men of acquired learning who seemed as destitute of natural and spiritual abilities as Peter the Wild Boy."' In 1788 he published The Justification of a Sinner and Satan's Law-suit against him,'^ a work which has for frontispiece Prodigalis's Progress, from the abode of sin by a winding path through fire, water, and other perils into the presence of the Lamb of God. Although ProdigaUs, as the son of wealthy parents, came into life with every social advantage, and so was in this respect antipodal to Huntington, nevertheless he loses his father at the age of fifteen (Huntington's age when Barnabas Russell died), and his experiences correspond generally and unmistakably with Huntington's. Accompanying the book is a plate which we have reproduced. The convivial scene at the bottom is referable to the Mortlake period, but the wassailer very soon quits his Ur of the Chaldees ; and he is next seen lying corpse-like in the valley of dry bones. Awakened by the watchman's trumpet, he fares to Sinai (Kingston). He stands (poor man !) * Ben. Vol. 4, p. 39. The Justification of a Sinner. 2 Ben. Vol. 4. The story of Prodigalis begins on p. 105. FIRST PROVIDENCE CHAPEL. 79 before the eye of Justice, clad in the rags of his own righteousness, and covering his face for shame; with Death at one hand, and Satan the accuser on the other, while Moses points to the law he has broken. The lesson of the condemning power of the law having been taught him, he hurries to the cross, to the Saviour ; that same blessed Saviour whom he saw in the vision at Sunbury, the third sacred spot. Thence, robed and crowned, and carrying the palm of victory, he follows a path which conducts first to the furnace of affliction and afterwards to the waters of dejec- tion and despondency — the rush-fringed Ewell Marsh. Emerging, he faces " a wealthy place," figurative of the serenity of mind and unalloyed happiness enjoyed in that holy of holies, the room over the coal pens at Thames Ditton, the fifth and last of the five sacred places. Then, though the target of an occasional and well-aimed bolt from Satan, he marches with elastic and confident step towards the "Valley of Death's Shadow," for, despite the blackness of its darkness, which stands before him like a wall, certain beams penetrate it and reach him from the goal of all his aspirations — the glorified Lamb. The book abounds with sovereign passages, as for example, "A believer who is not a constant reader of his Bible is like a soldier without arms,"' and "That is a most safe and a most blessed frame of mind to be 1 Ben. Vol. 4, p. 242. 8o LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. resigned to the will of God. There is no galling cross when our wills lay straight with the will of God ; it is our perverse will contradicting or lying counter to God's will that makes the cross, and the loss is our own ; for when we have made it we are compelled to take it up."' Many were the difficulties which faced Hunting- 34. The Visit ^on during his first years at Providence November' Chapel — some caused by open enemies, 1786. others by false friends — but, as he beautifully says, by these things he was enabled to see more clearly the hand of God, " for where there is no opposition there is no salvation."^ However, he was continually progressing, and in 1786 he took the further step of hiring for his Tuesday evening lecture Monkwell Street Chapel, in the City, where he attracted crowds.^ On November 23rd of the same year he visited Bristol and Bath, where he stayed seven weeks, ^ and preached daily to huge congregations. People " hung on the windows inside and outside," and clambered anywhere to hear even the sound of his voice f and he also addressed the colliers of Kingswood, who " listened attentively to their brother coalheaver." As in London so in Bristol, 1 Ben. Vol. 4, p. 277. a Ben. Vol. 3 (B. of F.) p. 186. » 3, p. 188. ^ See letter of i6th Nov., 1786. (Facts, Letters, &c., p. 26.) 5 Ben. Vol. 20, p. 247. (Every Divine Law.) 6 Letter to Mr. Carnal. G. V. p. 48. From Bristol he wrote the letter to Mr. Carnal (5th Dec, 1786) afterwards published as Zion^s Alarm (Ben. Vol. 4, p. 301) ; and that to Mr. James Davidson, 29th Nov.. 1786. G. V. p. 72. PRODIGALIS'S PROGRESS. See p. 78. From a Block lent by the Rev. W. Jeyes Styles. FIRST PROVIDENCE CHAPEL. 8i the generality of the ministers held aloof from him, while one — the Rev. Caleb Evans — attacked him with vigour, laying to his charge " fiery, ungovernable, ill-natured zeal and bigotry ; " and in justice to Mr. Evans it must be admitted that the son of Barnabas Russell certainly at times forgot that he was the Rev. Mr. Huntington — a fact, however, which did not prevent his writing, by way of reply, the well-known Letter to the Rev. Caleb Evans.^ In the following year Huntington visited and preached at Gainsborough, in Lincoln- shire, and from that town he sent to ^^J^^^^^*^ ' Mrs. Hunt- his wife the only letter to her that has »"gto". t^st. been preserved. He says, " Dear partner in life and in covenant love, — I am at present very well in health. I often take a solitary walk by the river Trent, and muse on the wonderful scheme of ever- lasting love. My soul is more dead to the world than ever ; all indeed is vanity and vexation of spirit, but in my God solid peace and everlasting felicity. The very nights are sweet to me, and no company like that of my God. Why I am so highly favoured I know not. I have done nothing worthy of this His notice, but He will be gracious to whom He will be gracious. I do not enjoy my comfort alone ; I call you and the little ones up with me to prayer in my faith, and surely my desire is that you and the little ones may be * Ben. Vol. lo, pp. i to 126. G 82 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. saved. I sit from morning to night in my own room, except when I eat my meals or walk by the Trent. Give my love to Ruth and Naomi and all, if they can read this. Fare you well. From your affectionate husband in Christ, W. H.'" In 1788 Huntington met with a book after his own heart, A Reviving Cordial for a Sin-despairing Soul, being the life history of James Barry, a minister who had begun by taking the law as his rule of life, and who ended by depending " for life and salvation on Christ alone." Huntington at once reprinted it, with the title of The Coal- heaver's Cousin rescued from the Bats,'' and issued it with an appreciative preface. Some of Hunting- ton's enemies declared the experience in the book to be a fabrication ; but about the same time Huntington heard that one of Barry's daughters, a Mrs. Wilson, of Homerton, was still living; so on 22nd January, 1789, in the company of James Davidson and other friends, he paid the old lady a visit. " She is married," he says, " to a kind, indulgent husband, in whose praise she spoke very highly " — " which is not very common," he adds humorously, "especially while the husband liveth." The interview corroborated everything that the book contained, and Huntington, armed with new weapons, projected them at his enemies in the shape of A Few Fragments of the Life and Death of 1 G. V. p. 42. » First published in 1699. Re-published by Huntington in 1788. Re- printed by Gadsby in 1840. FIRST PROVIDENCE CHAPEL. 83 Mr. James Barry, intended as a Supplement to the Coalheaver's Cousin.^ Notwithstanding many successes — and it must be admitted he was never a good econo- 36. The mist of his resources — Huntington, fj*J^!^nov" owing to the expenses connected with 1788. his chapel, once more got into debt ; but friend after friend came to his rescue, one gentleman lending eighty pounds. In November (1788) how- ever, after a long struggle, he found himself, thanks to the chapel's increase and the sale of his books, in the possession of £/^o ; and the thought that he would be able to reduce the loan sent him off to Birmingham, where he was to preach, in high spirits ; but he had scarcely arrived when the news reached him of a fire at his chapel. Writing from Birmingham' he says, "I have just received and am amazed at the tidings. Many an earnest petition and silent tear have I dropped in my little study for a beam from Jordan to enlarge the place, which is too strait for us, and He that answers *by terrible things in righteousness' shows Himself to be God when He answers by fire. God will repair the damages that the chapel has sustained." When, however, he returned home and found that the cost would scarcely be covered by the forty pounds he had saved — for a great part of the roof was destroyed — he became frantic. * Huntington afterwards reprinted three other works by James Barry. » Facts, Letters, Sec, p. 38. G. V. p. 96. 84 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. He says, " I was like a wild bull in a net, entangled every way ; "^ and in his trouble he determined to go and apologise to the gentleman who had lent him the ^fSo, and beg his patience a little longer. "I went," he says, "but God had been before me; for, before I could find an opportunity to speak, he looked up at me and said, ' I shall never take that money again of you, nor did I ever intend it.' I knew not where to hide my head ; I was ashamed of my impatience, distrust, rebellion, and mur- muring, and loathed myself for it; and admired the wisdom and goodness of my God to so unstable and unbelieving a wretch." 1 Ben. Vol. 3, p. 195. CHAPTER VIII DEC, 1789 MARCH, 1 799 CHURCH STREET, PADDINGTON In 1789 Huntington removed from Winchester Row to Church Street, Paddington, 37 History of where he resided ten years ; and in ""The^Bibie^ 1790 he published The History of Little Faith,^ a tedious dialogue between " a certain steward " and " a rustic shepherd," illuminated by several sparkling thoughts and one magnificent passage — a eulogy of the Bible.* " I have some- times thought," says Huntington, " that a nation must be truly blessed if it were governed by no other laws than those of that blessed Book. . . . It contains the choicest matter, gives the best instruction, and affords the greatest pleasure and satisfaction that ever was revealed. . . . It brings the best of tidings, and affords the best of comfort to the inquiring and disconsolate. It exhibits life and immortality from everlasting, and shows the way to eternal glory. ... It is the most compendious book in all the world. ... It encourages the wise, the warrior, the swift, and the overcomer; and promises an eternal reward to the ' Reprinted in 1886 by F. Kirby. Reviewed in Gospel Standard, 1886, p. 449. Reprinted by Farncombe & Son in 1905. * Ben. Vol. 9, pp. 242 — 245. 86 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. excellent, the conqueror, the winner, and the pre- valent. And that which crowns all is, that the Author is without partiality, and without hypocrisy ; in whom is no variableness or shadow of turning." While the History of Little Faith was appearing, 38. Adam and Huntington found himself engaged in Dr^RyTand. ^ battle royal with a Miss Maria 1791. j)g Fleury and her friend, the Rev. Dr. Ryland, of College Street Chapel, Northamp- ton. Miss De Fleury, who had questioned the soundness of some of Huntington's doctrines, published her opinions in a two-penny pamphlet. Huntington's reply took the form of two sermons, issued with the title of The Servant of the Lord Described and Vindicated.^ Miss De Fleury returned the fire. Pamphlet answered pamphlet.'' Among the members of College Street Chapel was an ironmonger named John Adams who, dis- satisfied with the teaching of Dr. Ryland, had shown his displeasure by attacking his pastor and others in some uncouth verses entitled The Lamentation J He further exasperated Dr. Ryland by obtaining a preaching licence for a cottage in the town, and by inviting to it " a minister famous for smiting 1 Ben. Vol. 7, p. 113. ^Serious Address, with Remarks on Mr. Huntington's Sermon; Miss De Fleury. The Broken Cistern (Ben. Vol. 11, p. 9) ; Huntington. A Farewell to Mr. Huntington ; Miss De Fleury. An Answer to Fools (Ben. Vol. 11, p. 318) ; Huntington. 3 Adams, who is also remembered as a hymn-writer, died in 1835, age6 80. His son, the Rev. S. Adams, was a clergyman in the Estabhshed Church. See Celebrated Coalheaver, pp. 31 — 33. Adams's verses are printed in Ben. Vol. 11, p. 198. PADDINGTON. 87 his fellow servants with an envenomed tongue " — namely, the Rev. William Huntington.^ Hunting- ton, only too delighted to carry the war into the enemy's territory, gladly accepted the invitation, and arrived in Northampton some time in Feb- ruary, 1 79 1.' As the licensed cottage was absurdly small for the purpose, Huntington addressed the multitude who gathered to hear him from one of the windows. Not only was the street full, but the crowd overflowed into All Hallows'^ Churchyard, a circumstance that offended the vicar, who promptly hustled them out.* A day or two later, Huntington went to preach at a neighbouring village, and on his return he found "Adam and Eve," as he called Adams and his wife, "very sad and weeping." When he enquired the cause of their grief, Adams replied, " Some years ago my wife was delivered of a son, the only child we have living. At his birth she received a hurt, and the doctor informed her that she would never bring forth another living child, if she had a hundred ; since which time she has borne ten children, and every one dead. She is now near her down-lying again, and this is the cause of our grief." 1 Ben. Vol. 11, p. 129. ' See P. L. 2, pp. 104 to log. ' Now called All Saints. * Letter of 26th November, 1806 (portion unpublished). Part of this letter appears in P. L. Vol. 3, p. 415. 88 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. " Nothing," said Huntington, " is too hard for the Lord. We will lay the matter before Him." " Oh, it is of no use ! " sighed Mrs. Adams. "It is no sin to ask," said Huntington, "if we ask with submission to the will of God." So all three knelt down and Huntington prayed, concluding his supplication with, " O Lord, if we have asked amiss, withhold ; but if Thou art not displeased with our petitions, grant our request ; not on the footing of our worth or worthiness, but in the name and for the sake of Thy dear Son, who is worthy." Some six weeks after Huntington's return to London he heard that Mrs. Adams had given birth to a living child — a girl. '* Being a child of prayer," added Adams, the writer of the letter, **it is to remain nameless until you come." So Huntington again visited Northampton, when he baptised the child Mary;' and a little later Adams's connection with College Street was for- mally severed by a "Letter of Excommunication"^ sent to him by Dr. Ryland. On August 13th of the following year (1792) Huntington was again at Northampton,^ Mrs. Huntington accompanying him. "The countess," he says (and he frequently in fun conferred on her this title, glancing of course at the Countess of Hunting^^on) — "the * Ben. Vol. 20, p. 269 (Every Divine Law). 'Ben. Vol. 11, p. 123, where it is printed in full. It is signed by Ryland and nineteen of his members, and dated 30th Oct., 1791. 8 P. L. Vol. I. pp. 32 and 64. On Aug. i8th, 1792, he wrote from Northampton to Mr. Davidson. G. V. p. 76. PADDINGTON. 89 countess is handed about from house to house and is set no small store by.'" If Huntington had opponents in the country he had more in London — and they assailed him with a variety of epithets — Archbishop of Titchfieid Street and Parson Sack, the last, an allusion to his coalheaving days, being the most popular ; and he often jocularly, in signing his letters, uses one or another of these designations. He tells us that on one occasion a person who came up from the country and enquired for the Rev. William Huntington failed to obtain assistance ; but when he asked for Parson Sack a hundred obliging tongues furnished the required information. If few ministers have had more malignant enemies than Huntington, on the other hand none could point to stauncher adherents; and some of them have left glowing testimonies to his worth. " It has proved an unspeakable mercy to me," wrote Christopher Goulding,* who was for twenty- one years one of his members, ** that I should have been brought under his ministry." John Keyt,' another member, was first drawn to Huntington by reading The Justificatioyt of a Sinner y which fell into his hands in a time of deep affliction. " I sat up nearly the whole night to read it," he says, " with peculiar sensations and emotions of spirit, finding 1 p. L. Vol I, p. 84. ' See Preface to Huntington's Farewell Sermon. =* For letters from Keyt and narrative of his experience see Gospel Standard, 1846, pp. 33, 65; 1847, pp. 214, 297. 90 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. many of the exercises of my own soul described in that blessed book." One day he said to his wife, "I am going to Providence Chapel." "It is a long way," she objected. " I must go," said Keyt, "cJr I shall die." So he went and sank into a free seat. " No one knew me," he says, " nor did I speak to any one, but hid my face in my handkerchief. When the service began I was all attention. The text was Joel ii. 32 : ' Whosoever shall call on the name of the Lord shall be delivered.' " Nothing could have been more suited to his case. He says, " Many encouraging things in the discourse dropped with a balmy sweetness upon my soul, and from that day forward I abode fast by the footsteps of the flock." The story of John Eedes, of Ramsgate, is even more striking. Desiring to hear Huntington, whose books he had read, Mr. Eedes made the journey to London on purpose ; and having arrived at the chapel on a Sunday morning, he ensconced himself in the front of the gallery. The pew-opener informed him that the seat belonged to a family who usually attended, and therefore he would have to remove to another. Eedes, however, refused point blank to stir. " For many years," he said excitedly to the pew-opener, " I have longed for the opportunity of hearing Mr. Huntington. I have at last come over seventy miles for the purpose, and being here I will not be turned out either by men or devils ! " The pew- PADDINGTON. 91 Opener, astonished at this speech (as well she might be), explained matters to the family on their arrival, and he was not disturbed. The event proved a turning-point in his life, and when he removed to London he became a member of Huntington's congregation. These were only a few of Huntington's henchmen ; scores, even hundreds, of others were equally enthusiastic, and many have recounted touching experiences, in which they dwell lovingly on Huntington as the instrument which brought them to the knowledge of the glorious gospel. After returning from Northampton, Huntington pilgrimed to his old haunts — those sacred spots, the Middlesex and Surrey 39. visits to J 1 1 J , , , -^ Old Haunts, gardens, hovels and tool-houses, where. Thrown from 1-1 1- -1 1 /, 1 I ^'S horse, while strugglmg with poverty, he " had June, 1793. entertained the King of kings," and every six or seven years afterwards he repeated the visit. First, in the company of Mrs. Huntington, he fared to Mortlake, where " the Lord spake to him in the garden.'" " I rang the bell," he says, "and the footman came. I asked whether the Honourable Messrs. Clive* lived there. He told me, no. I said I had been acquainted formerly with the family, and had spent many hours in that garden." Huntington then sent in his respects to the lady of the house, and begged the favour, ' p. L. 6 p. 378. Letter to Rev. Isaac Beeman. ' See chapter 2, § 6. 92 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. which was readily granted, of a walk in the garden. He says, " I pointed to one corner, and told my wife I had made a mount there ; we went and saw the mount. I then went to that quarter where I was at work when the voice came' ; and there was a very lofty old apple-tree which identi- fied the very spot. Afterwards the lady came out and walked with us, and treated us with great civility ; we made the servant a present and with- drew. Strange as it may appear, yet it is truth, before this voice came to me I had no more know- ledge of God than the beasts that perish." A few weeks later Huntington visited, in the company of a friend, the house of his old master at Sunbury, and having obtained leave, they entered the garden, the scene of the effulgent vision. " Against the wall," he says, " near the spot where the light first shone round about me,* there stood a ladder, and upon it I got up to the very place where the Sun of righteousness arose with healing in His wings ; and I saw also the little tool-house, where the first fervent and effectual prayer was put up, and to which such an answer was returned as will live, burn and shine to all eternity." Next, he says, ■" I went to EwelP and visited the house and garden in which I wrought. This was where I was taught the mystery of Providence and learned to live depending upon it. The overbearing lord * See Chapter 2, § 7, and Chapter 15, § 77. 2 See Chap. 4. § 12, and Ben. Vol. i (K. of H.) p. 216. ' See Chap. 5. § 14, PADDINGTON. 9j under whom I laboured, and the large and flourish- ing family are left few in number ; there are two tombs erected since I lived there, and I believe both are full." In June, 1793, he met with a serious accident,, being thrown from his horse at Hyde Park Corner. " The animal," he says, " I have long known and often ridden, but whether he took fright at a chaise that stood before him, or whether the man that held him pinched his mouth, I know not, but he reared up and fell back. I went to the ground and he fell across me ; and surely never did one escape with whole bones from such an intolerable weight."' The report circulated that he was killed on the spot. " Had this been true," he says, " some would have wept and some rejoiced ; so- that it would have been hard to tell which would have been the louder, the voice of weeping or the voice of joy."^ However, in order to silence the report he " crawled " to chapel on the following Sunday, and preached as usual. Generous to a fault, Huntington was repeatedly victimised by the specious, the idle, and the worthless— the most flagrant '^orVsoVd"^' case being that so deliciously described "^^ gea ^^^ by him in Forty Stripes save None for Satan.^ The offender, for ten years Huntington's Old Man of the Sea, was a certain flamboyant I G. v. p. 229. > P. L. Vol. I, p. 49. » Published in 1793. (Ben. Vol. 12.) 94 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. Mr. Butler, whom he had known at Thames Ditton/ and who made a tremendous profession of reUgion, though his views were diametrically- opposed to Huntington's. As time went on Butler found himself " without God, and without hope in the world." After tearing his hair from his head — though that helped not matters — he hurried up to London and called upon Huntington. " I took him into my house," says Huntington, " and kept him in frosty weather for ten weeks ; and as he was much in debt I gave him a few guineas to pay off «ome of his debts ; and soon after I gave him sixteen guineas more to pay off the rest. I made him one of my pew-openers, got his family to town, and gave his wife and himself ten guineas a year. I built him a little cottage. He being a bricklayer and a good workman I got him work ; but so strangely did he behave that if any gentleman was pleased with his work and offered him five or six shillings, his conscience would not let him take it, he would return half of it ; and when he wanted money he would come and beg a guinea of me. When he was at my house he used to get up in the night, and pray so loud that you might have heard him out in the street ; and when at dinner, if I filled his plate he would eat a mouthful or two, and then, with an air of disdain, push the plate back to me, throw up his head, and look with all the envy of a Turk. Seven years » See Ben. Vol. 3, p. 140 (B. of F ) PADDINGTON. 95 was I puzzled to make out this wonderful man. His smiting me so frequently brought a carnal fear of him upon my mind, insomuch that I often eyed him when in the pulpit, to see whether the cloud was upon his face or the sunshine. If the former, I knew I should be smitten ; if the latter, I knew I should escape with whole bones." Ulti- mately this religious Old Man of the Sea dropped off Huntington's back of his own accord, and having quitted the chapel, the emoluments he derived from it, and his longsuffering Sindbad, who had never before carried anything so heavy even in a coal-sack, he went and attached himself first to one and then to another of Huntington's enemies, tickling their ready ears with the pathetic tale of his grievances. The last of these gentry carried his burden till he was tired of it, and then tumbled it into the kennel. Unpleasant as the experience had been to Huntington, it was not wasted. " I believe," he says, *' this man was raised up to teach me many wholesome lessons, and his fall estab- lished my judgment in many things. I never saw a professor that answered Paul's description in the epistle to the Hebrews till this man was dis- covered.'" Huntington's liberality, however, was abused not only by outsiders, but also by his own kin. It will be remembered that as a youth he had learned > See also G. V. p. 103, where Butler is referred to as " a man in irons." The Rev. William Vessey, of Chatham, who adopted Butler's opinions, also gave Huntington trouble. Forty Stripes save None (Ben. Vol. 12) is addressed to Vessey. 96 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. gunmaking with his brother-in-law, Daniel Young, a toper. This man, who afterwards turned game- keeper, also pestered Huntington, to whose house he sometimes went in a state of intoxication. However, Daniel's miserable course soon termi- nated. One evening he called on Huntington and, being in a maudlin condition, was entertained in the kitchen. Next morning Huntington, after administering a reproof, gave him a silk handker- chief for himself, and half-a-guinea for his wife, saying, " Mind, Daniel, be sure you don't spend this, but give it to my sister." The promise was made, but the half-guinea, nevertheless, drifted into a Kentish ale-house, and next day a villager passing through a neighbouring wood came upon the gruesome spectacle of a dead man hanging from the branch of a tree by a silk handkerchief. It was Daniel Young. About this time Huntington made the acquaint- 41. The ^T^ce of the Blakers of Gassons, a roomy Biakers. ^^^ curiously timbered farmhouse near Bolney, in Sussex. The family — all of whom were remarkably tall and handsome — consisted of Mr. and Mrs. William Blaker, their son John, and their daughters Mary and Elizabeth. William Blaker had first been drawn to Huntington by reading some of his works, and we presently hear of a visit made by Huntington to Bolney, and of his preaching some- times in a barn, and sometimes in the orchard,' 1 " The standard is erected under an apple-tree, and my head is exalted among the thick boughs." P. L. i, p. 38. ^:i^dllm (M' .... -1 . .. A CRANBROOK CHURCH. From a Photo by Mr. C. Good, Cranbrook. "GASSONS." THE HOME OF THE BLAKER FAMILY, AT BOLNEY, SUSSEX. See p. g6. From a Photograph lent by the Misses Caffin, of Old Mailing, Lewes. PADDINGTON. 97 with his head among the apples. Thenceforward Huntington felt the tenderest affection for the various members of the family, and he came to regard the two daughters (one of whom, Elizabeth, was " The Sparrow Alone " of The Bank of Faith, Part 2') among his most valued correspondents.^ Among Huntington's numerous gifts was a certain knowledge of medicine, consequently his title " The Doctor," which his admirers had by this time given him, was not altogether undeserved. In December, 1797, he was so ill and hoarse that he sent for a physician to bleed him. "The lancet having been used," says Huntington, " we agreed in this, namely, that sweating was absolutely neces- sary. But our views differed — he wanted to sweat my pocket and I wanted to sweat my skin. I told him what to give me, he declined and advised the contrary." As Huntington would not yield, the physician strode off in a huff. " I now," says he, " went to work as Doctor Huntington. My dame, she was nurse, and I was physician, apothe- cary, and patient. In a few hours we raised a dew, and yesterday afternoon my speech came so far as to enable me to quarrel with my nurse, which most certainly was a token of returning health and strength." Having cured his own com- plaint, he wanted to play the doctor to his friend Blaker.3 " I most heartily wish," he says, " that 1 See § 47, p. 116. ' In G. V. (pp. 266 — 418) there are 90 letters to the Blaker family. ' Letter, 2nd Dec, 1797, Facts and Letters, p. 37; G. V., p. 301, where it is garbled. 98 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. Mr. Blaker would come up by the coach to my house. I have not a doubt but, under God's blessing, I could cure his eyes in three nights' time." After a while the Blakers removed from Gassons ; and Huntington's later letters to the family are addressed to " The New House, Bolney." Among those who embraced Huntington's views and were warmly attached to him was 42. Rev. J. -^ Jenkins and the Rev. Tenkin Jenkins,' who had "Philomela." , ■; . "L . ' . . , been a student m Lady Huntmgdon s College at Trevecca, whence the title, bestowed on him by Huntington, of " The Welsh Ambas- sador," or for short, " W. A." Owing to the exertions of Huntington and others, a chapel was built for him at Lewes — a plain brick building, with the inscription in front : " Jireh Chapel. Erected by J. Jenkins, W.A., with the voluntary contributions of the citizens of Zion. a.d. 1802.'"' Jenkins was unmarried, stout, peevish, and pessi- mistic, apt indeed " to curl himself like a hedge- hog, and to shoot out his prickles at every one who passed ; " and the weaknesses of his character provoked Huntington to numerous witticisms. In imitation of Huntington, of whom indeed he was a kind of pale reflex, he hired a small farm at South Mailing, near Lewes, and so, like his pre- 1 Jenkins first heard Huntington at Maresfield, 26th June, 1792. ^ It was formally opened by Huntington, 7th July, 1805. Among Huntington's hearers that day was John Vinall, who succeeded Jenkins as pastor of the church. PADDINGTON. 99 ceptor, combined indifferent husbandry with excel- lent divinity. If in his troubles, which were many, he relied too much on Huntington for support, on the other hand he was undoubtedly a capable preacher, and he attracted large congregations. Huntington, who was deeply attached to his "dear son," as he calls him, says that as a man he was open, frank, noble, and generous, as a friend devoted and affectionate, as a minister honest, plain and faithful. To Jenkins Huntington wrote more letters than to any other correspondent. " My pen never drags like Pharaoh's chariot," he says, " when I write to thee.'" In the following unpublished letter (27th May, 1802), written when the two friends were about to exchange pulpits, Huntington is seen poking fun not only at Jenkins, but also at Jenkins's housekeepers. Miss Ann Jones* and Miss A. M. Diggens. " I am very glad," he says, " that my second^ has undertaken housekeeping at the Vicarage for me ; but I fear we shall have short commons, and that we may be ranked among Pharaoh's lean kine by the time you return from London, unless the hospitality of the flock commiserate the necessities of strangers. As for Jane,* we had a proof of her generosity about a little milk ; and as for his Excellency, his dexterity on the instruments will never find him in salt for his 1 Last Fragtnents of Jenkins, p. 29. ' Jenkins's niece. 3 A jocular allusion to Miss Elizabeth Blaker. * A maid-servant, possibly. loo LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. want, and he is too well known to have credit, without either the Doctor or his Housekeeper pass their word for payment. However, I will keep lean for once. Wishing you more honesty, and Jane more liberality, I subscribe myself the reformer, W. H., S.S. P.S. — I purpose to bring a bit of cheese down with me, for fear of conse- quences. Greet Betsy' in my name, and pray her to bring a morsel of bacon from the Bower." Other Lewes friends of Huntington were Mr. Thomas Marchant, of " The Deanery ; " Mr. Joseph Morris, Mr. and Mrs. Cleeve Hooper, and Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Hooper."" Among the most interesting of the letters to the Marchant family is one to Mr. Marchant's daughter Elizabeth, who was a boarder at " Mrs. Allfree's School, Hurst- monceux." As it is headed " W. H. to his little Patient," we judge that Huntington, who was even proud of his skill as a physician, had prescribed to her for some childish ailment. " My little dear,"^ it runs, " your mother informed me when at Bolney that you had appointed to come and see your old companion Lois'^ at Christmas next, and 1 Miss Elizabeth Blaker. ^ For letters to Mr. Marchant see P. L. 3, pp. 48 — 119; to Mr. Morris. P. L. I, pp. 136 — 249 ; Mr. and Mrs. Cleeve Hooper, P. L. 2, pp. 401 — 483 ; Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Hooper, P. L. 2, pp. 21—67. Marchant, Morris and the two Hoopers were the first trustees of Jireh chapel. •^ This letter is printed in Facts, Letters, &c., p. 78, where by mistake the name of the receiver is given as Miss E. Blaker. Miss Marchant married a Mr. W. Moon. I have in my possession what appears to be the original letter. It is in the copper-plate hand of a practised penman. Probably Huntington thought the little girl would not be able to read his own writing. ^ Huntington's daughter. PADDINGTON. loi spend your days of vacation with me. . . . I have great expectations from my little Betsy, and that she will be like the captive girl who waited on Naaman's wife . . . the Lord made her a little prophetess. . . . There is a little bird, my dear Betsy, that you carry about with you ; it lives in your heart as in a cage, and God has put it there to tell you when you do wrong. People call it conscience. This bird will make you blush, colour up, stutter, and take shame when you do wrong ; yea sometimes it will not let you sleep in the night ; but the countenance of little girls always looks pleasant, fresh and handsome when this bird of Paradise is attended to, regarded and obeyed. Much inward peace, sweet sleep, and happy days of tranquillity are obtained this way Adieu, little dear! Your loving friend and in- structor, W. Huntington." The letters that passed between Mrs. Thomas Hooper and Huntington were published in 1799 under the title of A Correspondence between Nocttia Aurita of the Desert and Philomela of the King's Dale, a work which occupies the larger part of Vol. 18 in Bensley's edition of Huntington's works. Noctua Aurita (the listening owl) is Huntington, Philomela (the nightingale), Mrs. Hooper' ; and there is in the collection one letter from the melancholy Jenkins, who, appropriately enough, is made to sign himself Vespertilio Tumulis (the bat 1 For further particulars of Mrs. Hooper see Celebrated Coalheaver, p. loi, and Memoirs of Ebenezer and Emtna Hooper, p. 8. I02 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. among the graves). Mrs. Hooper recalls with gratitude the spiritual conversation which she held with Huntington during a visit to Gassons. Her language is rapturous ; she lays bare her different moods, and expresses intense devotion to her instructor. Huntington, on his part, is steadily- cheerful, and sets down many words of encourage- ment suitable for a doubting soul — his burden being, " None of the subjects of God's kingdom shall ever perish,'" while three of his letters — the 15th and the 17th, describing his own experiences before and after the famous vision, and the 28th upon the subject of prayer,' are among the finest from his pen.^ He calls prayer " that greatest, best, most blessed, and most glorious privilege that ever perishing sinners were favoured with ; " and he concludes with a sentence that has often been quoted : "In prayer we must take no denial, if we have but a feeling sense of our wants, a scriptural warrant to go upon, or one promise to plead ; we must sue, argue, reason, plead, supplicate, inter- cede, confess, acknowledge, thank, bless, praise, adore, repeat, importune, observe, take hold of, and turn every thing that we can to our own advantage, so as we can but get something for the soul."* Upon the subject of prayer, indeed, 1 See also chapter 9, § 45, p. in. a Ben. Vol. 18, p. 163. 3 The 32nd, on the operations of the Holy Spirit, and the autobio- graphical 36th are also worthy of special notice. * On this subject see also ch. 6, § 23, p. 50. PADDINGTON. 103 Huntington is always happ3^ When on his knees, he said, it was as if he " were wafted up into the third heaven." *' We are to work and pray and exercise patience," he says, in Little Faiths " Nature should not be forced, nor will Providence be hurried." As we have seen, Huntington had in 1785 pub- lished part of the correspondence ^ '^ 43. Living between himself and certain members Testimonies, 1794. of his flock under the title of Epistles of Faith. He now issued another series, Living Testimonies, consisting of letters to Jenkins, and others. Though all are intended to be serious, several are interspersed with touches of unconscious humour. For example, Huntington wished his female hearers to dress simply ; and he thus writes to a certain Mrs. Bull : " I do not like your head- dress, Madam ; there is no call for those prepos- terous streamers, together with first, second and third tiers of curls ; it does not become women professing godliness ; but I spare you, knowing that a little more furnace-work will teach you to loathe yourself in your own sight as bad as I do, and to pull down those useless topsails."^ Down they certainly came, but not in the way Huntington had in his mind. Says Mrs. Bull : " I found myself rather offended at your inter- fering with my head-dress, thinking it was out of 1 Ben. Vol. 9, p. 19. ' Ben. Vol. xiii., 180. 104 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. your province as a minister of the gospel, and was going to write to you sharply about it ; but, happening to fall asleep by the fire as I was read- ing the Bible, the candle caught the lappet of my cap, consumed my cap and a good deal of my hair, and I view it a great mercy that I was not consumed myself ; and you may be assured that you will see neither streamers, curls, nor topsails again.'" One correspondent mentioned that he was a cripple. " You tell me," says Huntington, " you are lame, but the lame take the prey ; Jacob never prevailed till his thigh was out of joint."* Jen- kins's " intended " married another. " All the better," says Huntington, ** she is not the pearl of great price. You will have plague enough without that addition. "3 " The Coalheaver," concludes another, '* wisheth all peace, not forgetting his love, to all in Welwyn, of every sect, name, deno- mination and party that love our Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity and truth."* On Fast Day, gth March, 1796, Huntington preached a sermon with the title of '^-.u^^^'T "The Utility of the Books and the mouth Dock. •' TheBarstons, Excellency of the Parchments."^ of Grantham, March, 1 796. Bread was nearly a shilling a quartern loaf. There was corn enough in the 1 Ben. Vol. xili., 193. * „ xiii., 293. » „ xiii., 247. * „ xiii., 41. * 2 Timothy iv. 13. PADDINGTON. 105 country, but those who had it refused to sell, in the hope of raising the price still further, and the poor cried in vain for bread. Then uprose Huntington, and in the following fearless words denounced the crass wickedness of these proceed- ings : " The conscientious farmer that will sell, and the poor farmer that must sell, are attended in every market by the monopolist. The rich overgrown farmer, and those that neither fear God nor regard man, will not sell ; they withhold the corn, that the people may curse them. The meal- man, when he gets it, gives you a mixture of beans, oats, barley, peas, or rye, and thus you pay eighteen or twenty shillings per bushel for hog- corn. But will not God visit for these things, and shall not His soul be avenged on such oppressors as these ? He will visit these men sooner or later, for He has cursed them in the books and damned them in the parchments.'" As Huntington finished the sentence, a volley of hisses burst from part of his audience. He was severely pained, but he made no comment, and he was allowed to finish his sermon without further interruption. Just after this trouble Huntington, in fulfilment of an engagement, set off for Plymouth Dock,' and the preacher at the Dock — the Rev. John 'Ben. Vol. 16, p. 396. * Ben. Vol. 3 (B. of F.), p. 223. Two letters written by Huntington from Plymouth to his daughter Ruth appear in G. V., pp. 58 and 59. Other letters written by him from Plymouth are those in P. L. i, p. 71, which is full of nautical terms, and G. V., p. 61 (to James Baker). io6 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. Wilkinson — came up to supply in his absence. Mr. Wilkinson, very unfairly, took advantage of the opportunity which had been given him of appearing before a London audience to preach unalloyed Jacobinism — although he must have known that Huntington, who feared that its pre- valence in this country would bring about an English Reign of Terror, was diametrically opposed to it. Many lovers of liberty in England, especially among the Nonconformists, had heralded with joy the dawn of the French Revolution ; but the terrible consequences of it had led a number of them, including Huntington, to throw their weight into the other scale. Huntington's own con- gregation were divided on the subject, and when Mr. Wilkinson advanced his views in an inflam- matory sermon, not a few received them with enthusiasm. The news of the mischief — and never had the good ship Providence been so nearly wrecked — was brought to Huntington in the middle of the night. Indeed, someone — a young man named Body, it is said — took the trouble to wake him in order to impart it. Without losing a moment he hurried on his clothes, and ordered a post-chaise and four; and within an hour the horses were given their heads, the postillions cracked, and he was bowling along towards London — distant some 218 miles — at breakneck speed. On his arrival, he found that the mischief done was even PADDINGTON. 107 more serious than he had anticipated. To send Wilkinson packing was the work of an instant, but half the congregation was in rebellion, and owing in part to his own sermon, and in part to the preaching of his supply, the people had " scat- tered," while, to make matters worse, the chapel was ;f 500 in debt.' " I believe," says William Stevens, " this was the greatest ministerial trial he ever had." He sat in the vestry and wept over it for hours. He was not, however, the man to be beaten. Indeed, difficulties only whetted his energy, and he at once set about reforming his church. The tickets of a hundred and twenty- seven members were cancelled, other members were warned, and he declared that he would in future admit no one to membership without a personal interview. As the result of this energetic action, and other new and stringent regulations, concord was restored, and, the storm being hushed, the good ship Providence gradually worked itself aloof from rocks and quicksands ; Captain Hunt- ington (whose longest recorded voyage was from one side of the Thames to the other) gradually sur- rounded himself with a more devout and devoted crew than ever, and the vessel, not a stitch the worse for its unpleasant experiences, bounded once more over an auspicious wave with bellying sail. Another event of this year was the founding of • See Gospel Standard, 1856, p. 257. io8 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. a chapel at Richmond — Bethlehem chapel — by Mr. John Chapman. It was opened by Hunting- ton, who preached from Isa. xiv. 32 and Ex. xx. 24.' On 19th December, 1797, the king went in state to St. Paul's, to return thanks for Jervis's brilliant victory over the Spanish fleet at St. Vincent, and that of Duncan over the Dutch at Camperdown. Huntington, a high Tory and a perfervid admirer of Pitt, improved the occasion by a sermon en- titled " Watchword and Warning," in which he urged his congregation to obey the voice of God rather than give heed to the claims of Popery, the teaching of Tom Paine, and the tyranny of the mob. To follow any of these courses would, he declared, bring the country to destruction. His political and theological enemies naturally took exception to these words, and the town was presently deluged with handbills announcing a debate to be held at the Assembly Rooms, Brewer Street, 22nd January, 1798. Subject: "Which has been the more injurious to the Christian religion, the publications and preaching of William Huntington, alias Hunt, alias Parson Sack, alias Archbishop of Titchfield Street, alias the Coal- heaver, or the writings of Thomas Paine ? "^ The news of the defeat of Napoleon's fleet at the Battle of the Nile, fought ist August, 1798, also put Huntington's heart in gala. " You have heard 1 The present minister is the Rev. F. Harrison. ' See Last Fragments of the Rev. J. Jenkins, p. lo. PADDINGTON. 109 of the defeat," he writes to his friend Thomas Barston, of Grantham ;' " God has given Egypt for our ransom, and he that was coming to destroy us is now starving in the land of Ham." 1 p. L. I, p. 265. Letter of 8th Oct., 1798. The Barston family con- sisted of Thomas Barston, his wife, " Old Sarah " (her real name was Elizabeth), his sisters EUzabeth (" Nagging Betsy ") and Fanny, and his brother James. The letters to them will be found in P. L. Vol. i, pp. 261 to 359. They resided at Grantham. James removed subsequently to Leicester, where he carried on an ironmongery business. CHAPTER IX MARCH, 1799 3RD JULY, 1803 CRICKLEWOOD HOUSE In 1798 Huntington, who was obliged to leave 45. "Brother ^is Church Street home, took the ven- Grazier.' turesome step (for he was fifty-four years of age) of hiring Cricklewood House, and with it fifty-two acres of land, in the parish of Hendon. He says, " This little concern was advertised in the papers, and some of my friends went down to see it unknown to me, and would insist upon my undertaking the affair, but I moved heavily and with some reluctance, fearing bank- ruptcy. However, I am embarked in it, and am watching to see what the event may be."^ He calls the house "a retired rural spot with a walled garden, a summer-house, and a few fir trees about it," The stock and fixtures were taken by appraisement,'^ but just when he thought everything had been done satisfactorily trouble arose and a lawsuit followed, in which, however, his opponent was worsted. Of his little farm he was even proud, and when writing to an agricultural friend he often begins, "Brother Grazier." Having had abundant experi- * G. v., p. 320. Letter to Mr. John Blaker. » Ben. Vol. 3 (B. of F.). p. 235. CRICKLEWOOD HOUSE. iii ence during his younger days in farm and field work, he was, in a sense, tolerably qualified to be a farmer ; but in the financial part of the business — the buying and selling and the keeping of accounts — he was far to seek. To superintend his farm he employed, partly out of charity, a poor man named Clarke, who had succeeded Katterns in various offices at the chapel, and whom he called his foreman, steward, choir- master (for he was a good singer), bailiff, coach- man. Jack of all trades.' Sometimes Huntington, forgetful of Solomon's adage that there is a time for everything, would leave his study, go down to the kitchen, and say to Mrs. Clarke, who perhaps was furbishing a dish-cover,^ " Now, Nanny, let us take a pinch of snuff and comfort our hearts, for, by God's mercy, we shall never die.^ Call in your husband and let's have a hymn." Goodman Clarke would then leave his cows and pigs, enter the kitchen, bringing with him powerful whiffs of sty and byre, to mingle with the odour of onion-rope and bacon-side, and throw off with a good rich voice, " We sing Thy praise, exalted Lamb ! "^ Huntington's hearty bass and Nanny's shrill treble bursting in unisonally. As may be judged from this Gilbertian scene, from Hunting- ton's infantile notions of finance, and from the 1 Ben. Vol. 3 (B. of F.), p. 253. ^ See also Facts, Letters, &c., p. 48. ^St. John xi. 26. * One of Hart's hymns. Supplement, No. 65. 112 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. fact that he was half the week away in his " Cabin," on board that trim-built craft the Provi- dence, the farm proved unremunerative. How- ever, there was no great loss ; and owing to Huntington's constantly increasing reputation as a preacher and a writer, funds in plenty flowed in from other sources. That he was happy in his new home, with his " rowen hay," his cows and sheep, his 46. Present head man Clarke, his odd man Thomas, of a Coach ' and Horses, and his coachman Peter, almost every "8. 8." •' Oct., 1799. Cricklewood letter bears witness. The one drawback was its distance from the chapel, but just as he was projecting the purchase of a tilted cart in order to make the Sunday journey with his family, some of his friends bought him a coach and a pair of horses.' It is quite delightful to read of the boyish pleasure which this gift afforded. As he rolled along the streets in his sumptuous equipage, he recalled the pinched farm lad at Cranbrook, the runnagate dropping from exhaustion in front of the Guildford ale- house, the starveling coalheaver. " The Coal- heaver's coach," indeed, became the talk of London. Some sniffed, others went green with jealousy. *' The newspapers," he says, " ring with my equipage.'"' In order to satisfy the envious that it was not a hired coach, but the 1 Ben. Vol. 3 (B. of F.). p. 243 ; P. L. Vol. 2, p. 417. 2 P. L. Vol. 2, p. 418. Letter of 8th Oct., 1798, to Cleave Hooper. MR. CHARLES MARTIN'S HOUSE. DOWNHAM, CAMBRIDGESHIRE. See p. ii6. From a Photograph lent by Miss H. E. Cooke, Downham Lodge, Nr. Ely. CRICKLEWOOD HOUSE. Huntington's Home from March, 1799 to March, 1811., See p. no. ^ 4* CRICKLEWOOD HOUSE. 113 despised Doctor's very own carriage, ** a gift from the King of kings," he had the initials of his name, " W. H.," together with the initials of his state, *' S. S." [Sinner Saved] , put upon every panel, upon the pads of the harness, and upon the very- winkers of the bridle. Many other gifts followed : sheep, guinea-fowls, turkeys, bees, barn-fowls, fruit trees, a fine cow, a rick-cloth. His devoted hearers vied with one another in helping him. But if he freely received, he also freely gave. He was charitable to a proverb. He had pensioners who looked to him regularly for subsistence, and we frequently hear of his bestowing upon poor men such gifts as a pig, a sheep, a couple of guineas. Indeed, to use his own expression, he perpetually had " the gout in his pocket." " God," he said, " seldom sent him a guinea till that guinea was wanting." He was surprised that people trusted him so. If, when he entered a shop, his money ran short, the shopkeeper would be sure to cry out, " Oh ! I am not afraid to trust you." " I have often com- mented," says Huntington, " * Why, you don't know me.' The answer always is, * Oh yes ; it is Mr. Huntington ; I know you well enough.' And I am sure they have much more confidence in Mr. Huntington than he has in himself.'" He was often in straits ; but he says, " I have observed that when the trial has been sharp and long, the 1 Ben. Vol. 3 (B. of F.), p. 264. I 114 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. blessing has been more abundant when it came. It has pleased God to keep me depending on His providence from hand to mouth throughout the whole course of my pilgrimage, that I might pub- lish to the Church at large, not a recital of what Providence has done for others, but, as a living witness of the facts, what He has done for me, to encourage the faith of others." Naturally he had his losses — one day several sheep — and sheep were his hobby — another day a horse. " I have often observed," he says, " that in whatever we take the most delight, there the calamity generally falls." Whenever possible, he and his congregation erected chapels in the villages in which he had established causes, among the earliest being those at Worplesdon, Woking, and Sunbury ; but in time quite a number of Huntington chapels, erected mainly by his aid, dotted both the suburbs and the country.' Nevertheless his congregation contributed to objects of charity with greater liberality than ever. One evening he pleaded for a poor man who had been dismissed from a situation in connection with some religious body merely because he had on one occasion attended Providence Chapel. " I shall make no collection," said Huntington; "you have kindly and liberally * He met with much opposition in the villages and small towns. Once he was invited to preach in a chapel at Chesham. When he got there the door was locked, and the parson had gone off with the keys. P. L. 3, p. 416. At Acton he tried to preach on a piece of waste land near the church, but no sooner had he begun than he was saluted with a loud peal from the church bells, and in the contest to see which could speak the louder, the bells came off victor. — The Riches of Free Grace, (by Thomas Oxenham), p. 23, CRICKLEWOOD HOUSE. 115 responded to several appeals lately made to you, so I am reluctant to ask. A plate, however, will be in the vestry to receive the contributions of any who may feel disposed to help this poor man, who is in great need." About £\o was laid on the plate. Owing to the increase of Huntington's congre- gation, it now became necessary for f . , , , , ^. -^ , 47. The him to enlarge the chapel. First he Chapei is , • 1 . _ , Enlarged. tried to secure a piece 01 waste ground that joined the east wall, but the price demanded was so exorbitant that the idea had to be aban- doned. " I then," says Huntington, " determined to build my * storeys in the heavens,' where I should find more room and less rent," in short, *' to raise the chapel one storey higher, and to carry a flight of galleries all round it." The next step was to find a person to execute this design, and one was soon selected as capable of the under- taking. All would have been well had Huntington possessed business qualities, but these, as we have already said, he egregiously lacked. When the expense was named — ^;f40o — nobody troubled ; but the ;f40o swelled, owing to the contractor's dis- honesty and Huntington's incapacity, to ^1,230, and the burden proved well-nigh unbearable. Providentially, however, Huntington's increasing success as a minister enabled him to overcome even this obstacle. Though sitting room had been provided for 2,000 persons, there was rarely ii6 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. an empty seat, and not infrequently numbers of persons had to turn disappointed away. It was about this time, and with a view to extinguishing the debt, that Huntington wrote the second part of The Bank of Faith" — a work in which we see a wealthy congregation delightedly heaping gifts upon a beloved pastor. In matter it is less fascinating than Part I., but it exhibits the same unswerving faith in God, the same admission of personal unworthiness, while under the head of style there is no declension. Huntington was often from home, visiting the Hoopers, Morrises, and Marchants at ^^\\ns,^^''' Lewes, the Blakers at Bolney, the ^and thT' Barstons at Grantham, and other Taylors, of fnends ; while he made frequent iour- Biggleswade. ' ^ J neys to Cranbrook, Leicester, Newark, and other places where he had established, or hoped to establish, causes, and on every occasion he preached almost daily. " I am just like an old hen," he said, " which hath more chicks than she can cover; for my thoughts are all over the nation. '"* His acquaintance with Charles Martin, a farmer, of Downham, in the Isle of Ely, seems to have commenced about the year 1801. The various members of the Martin family became 1 A series of letters addressed to Miss Elizabeth Blaker. The originals are now in the possession of Miss Blaker's descendant, Miss Caffin, of South Mailing. They are in the handwriting not of Huntington but of an amanuensis ; but that they are the originals sent to Miss Blaker is proved by the postmarks. ' Ben. Vol. i8, p. 135 (Noctua Aurita). CRICKLEWOOD HOUSE. 117 among his most devoted adherents," and some 200 of his letters to them, many of which appear in volumes 3 and 4 of Posthumous Letters,^ have been preserved. The printed portions of the letters are almost entirely on spiritual subjects, but in the originals are many passages respecting matters agricultural. The Martins often made him pre- sents of stock — now a pig, now a sheep ; but some- times their generosity embarrassed him, as when they sent him a valuable cow. " The beautiful cow has arrived," he said, " but I know not what to say to this. ... I cannot find it in my heart to receive so large a beast as a gift. I must acknowledge it in some way or other^ ; " so he sent a silver coffee-pot and cloth for a spencer, " in remembrance of the Coalheaver, in case the ensuing winter should cripple him, or send him into the moles' country."* The Outlanders, the Islanders, the Outlandish Folk, as he variously styled these warm-hearted people, looked forward eagerly to his periodical visits (" I shall come in 1 These were Mr. Charles Martin and his wife Mary ; Mr. William Martin and his wife Rebecca ; Mrs. Waddelow, Rebecca's mother ; and Henry, Rebecca's son. Henry, who was bom at Little Downham, went to Littleport, at the age of 13, to live with Mrs. Waddelow, and he resided at Littleport the rest of his life. ^ The letters in Vol. 3, from p. 216 to the end, are to Mr. and Mrs. Charles Martin. Many passages, however, have been excised. I have compared most of them with the originals, which were lent me by Miss H. E. Cooke. In Volume 4 are many letters to Rebecca Martin and Mrs. Waddelow (" My dear mother," " the mother of us all "), and seven to Henry Martin (pp. 49 to 68). In Ben. Vol. 6, p. 202, is a letter from Mrs. Charles Martin, and on p. 207 is Huntington's reply. ^ Unpub. portions of letters of 14th June, 1805, and 9th Sept., 1805 ; P. L. 3, pp. 377 and 382. * Unpublished part of letter dated 12th Sept., 1805, P. L. 3, p. 384. ii8 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. shearing time," he said jocosely in one letter, " when good cheer will be in plenty '") ; and when he preached in their great barn, as he customarily did, people from all the country round flocked to hear him. About 26th June, 1802, he set off on what he styled a long round in the North,^ and on his way he stayed at Rhode Farm, Biggleswade, with another friend, Mr. Taylor.^ Writing from Newark to James Baker, he says, " You would stand astonished to see the troops from all quarters that come to hear ; the poor, buffeted, tempted and tried, these come by shoals from all quarters, and some upwards of thirty miles. Old Mr. Taylor made me a present of twenty pounds to bear expenses. The poor souls here have collected ten, but I told them I would take nothing from them, they are so very poor ; at which they were not a little surprised."" If in his labours at Providence Chapel and on these journeys Huntington was singu- "t^eslhas the' larly blessed and intensely happy, °La"nsdeTis^ nevertheless his happiness was sadly chequered, for at home there were deep shadows. Mrs. Huntington had, in their early days of poverty, been a helpmeet to him in » Unpublished part of letter in P. L. Vol. 3, p. 397. 2 P. L. Vol. 4. p. 154. P. L. I, p. 95. G. v., pp. 114. 190. 8 Forty-three letters from Huntington to Mr. Taylor and his daughters, Elizabeth and Ann, are in G. V., pp. 143 to 190. * P. L. i., 95. June 29th, 1802. CRICKLEWOOD HOUSE. 119 every sense of the word. His early letters con- tain many references to her, and these references are invariably playful, kind, sympathetic. In that curious composition, The Last Will and Testament,^ he refers to her whimsically as " Mary, my wife, the most valuable head of all my living stock, whom I took to have and to hold, and have no great cause to repent of the bargain." This was in 1784, but the extraordinary advance made by Huntington left Mrs. Huntington hopelessly behind. While his mind grew and expanded, and his influence extended until he became the most prominent minister of his day, her mind remained stationary. She seems to have made a vapid attempt to fill the new position, for we find her accompanying her husband in some of his ministerial journeys f but a servant's outlook on things she had when she left her situation to marry the Mortlake gar- dener, and a servant's outlook she continued to have when the fame of the Mortlake gardener, who could hold spellbound for two hours on end the largest and richest congregation in London, extended from Land's End to the Orkneys. She felt herself entirely out of place among the important and moneyed folk with whom her hus- band mingled. But that was not all ; many of these persons were ladies who consulted Hunting- ton on spiritual matters, and she became jealous. ' Ben. Vol. 2, p. 319. 2 See ch. 8, § 38. p. 88. 120 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. Huntington could not neglect his ministerial duties merely on account of his wife's folly, but what he could do, that he did. He acted with the utmost circumspection, and daily made the trouble a matter of earnest prayer. Among his friends was Mr. George Lansdell, a farmer, of Spelmon- den, near Lamberhurst, Cranbrook, an upright man, who had a good but jealous wife, Sarah by name,' and poor George, worried by her insinuations, wrote to Huntington for advice. In reply^ Hunt- ington makes the following curious remarks on connubial jealousy : " There is a need for it," he says, " or it would not be. God does nothing in vain. Abraham's family and Jacob's household had plenty of it. . . . This fly often goes from the heifer to the steer, and from the steer to the heifer. I was in hot water through it near or quite three years, till the Countess laughed at me, but I told her when it left me it would come upon her, which it really did, and kept her smoking for twelve years. I drop these few hints as a friendly caution, that you may in future have the comfort, upon reflection, that you have given no just cause by any unguarded speeches, or even by common kindness, for jealousy will make the worst even of that. Take not this as ill meant by me, for when Sarah goes out of that fire George will go in. 1 She is the "Old Sarah" of the letters at the end of G. V. The reader must not confuse her with " Old Sarah," wife of Mr, Thomas Barston. See § 44, p. 109. » Unpublished letter, 8th Mar., 1804. CRICKLEWOOD HOUSE. 121 Nothing will chase that fly from the herd but prayer." To Sarah he wrote in similar strain.' " I know," he says, " of no one ingredient in the furnace worse than spiritual or carnal jealousy," and he bids her take up the poor simple weapon, " all prayer." But if Mrs. Huntington had no real cause for jealousy, she was tried in other directions. Of the cares incidental to the rearing of a large family we need say nothing, but the way her husband managed, or rather mismanaged, his pecuniary affairs must often have exercised her. No matter what amount came in, just as much went out, for he held poverty to be favourable to his piety and industry, in that it kept him dependent on God. Then, too, his numerous activities — the writing of his books and his multitudinous 'letters, &c. — con- fined him, as we have seen, for many hours weekly to his " Cabin." But the tasks which he had set himself were herculean, and he felt that were he to omit any one of them he would be failing in his duty. From four in the morning (and he rarely rose later) until the shades of evening, he would be labouring at his books and letters, while visiting the sick took up no small part of his time, to say nothing of the demands made by his farm. He regarded himself so seriously that every minute seemed golden. Had he spent less time over his books and letters, and more with his wife, she * G. v., p. 491. 122 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. might have been better pleased. But when everything conceivable has been set down in extenuation of her conduct, one is merely brought back to the starting-place, and can do no more than repeat that all the trouble arose from the fact that Mrs. Huntington found herself incapable of filling the position to which she had by circum- stances been called. It was indeed a Lord of Burleigh story with a difference, for whereas the landscape painter's bride, weighed down with the honour to which she was not born, drooped and faded from her husband's side, Molly Huntington, sad to say, moped and sulked, and took to drink. It was in vain that Huntington tried to rouse her, and to break her of the habit. He was invariably kind to her. So far as I am aware, he never said to her a single harsh word ; but over and over again we find him, in his letters, grieving on account of her terrible failing ; and we know that he implored God for her very earnestly, and with many tears. While sympathising deeply with Huntington, it is impossible altogether to withhold pity from his wife, for, as these pages bear wit- ness, her character had many engaging features.' Apparently, if Huntington had remained a gar- dener or a coalheaver, or if he had risen no higher than a village pastor with thirty pounds a year, 1 Some of her remarks are cited in Huntington's works. Thus when Mr. Abbott, who was in soul-trouble, asked her whether she ever knew one who had no hope, and who could not pray, be delivered, she replied, " It is a sad state ; but you must look to the Lord, for there is no help to be had anywhere else." Ben. Vol. 14, p. 12. CRICKLEWOOD HOUSE. 123 which was his precise income when she wrote so cheerfully from Thames Ditton to her parents in Dorsetshire, she would have continued all her life happy as a cricket. As the result of her unfortu- nate habits, a complication of diseases set in, in- cluding gout, and she became enormously corpu- lent. She not only constantly craved for drink, but the diseases with which she was honeycombed made her ravenously hungry. To show the terrible state into which she had fallen, Hunting- ton observes in one of his letters that he used to be in fear lest all he had in the world would be insufficient to keep her from real want.' Writ- ing in 1800 he says, " The Countess is laid by with the gout in both feet, which by no means makes her better tempered, but rather worse ; " and he often allows a lightsome humour to play around the inconveniences which he had so often to endure owing to his wife's frightful failing. It was at this conjuncture that he became acquainted with Lady Sanderson. > p. L. 2, p. 77, to Thomas Barston (written after her death). CHAPTER X JULY, 1802 — JUNE, 1806 ACQUAINTANCE WITH LADY SANDERSON BEGINS Lady Elizabeth Sanderson, widow of Sir James Sanderson, M.P., Lord Mayor of ^Little One" London for 1792, was thirty-seven The'p^i?^ years of age, and diminutive in person. Being in soul trouble, she wrote to Huntington, of whose fame she had often heard, though he was personally a stranger to her, and laid bare her condition. This was early in July, 1802, and then ensued between them a long correspondence, entirely on Scriptural matters.' In one of her earliest letters she promised to send him a banknote, but he declined it. " The paper kite you intend to send me," he says, "shall not come ; no, by no means ; not because I love you not, God knoweth ; but it is best for pilgrims of my cast to live from hand to mouth. "^ As we learn from the next letter, however, the " paper kite" was sent all the same. On 22nd November, 1802, after some remarks on the condescension of the Almighty, he observes beautifully, " God is * Huntington's letters to her are preserved in Posthumous Letters, Vol. 2, on pages 123 to 135 and 190 to 281. 2 P. L. 2, p. 190. LADY SANDERSON. 125 rich towards all who call upon Him, if they feel their need of what they ask, plead His promise, and make use of the name, merits, and office- characters of His dear Son. How prevalent is prayer when thus put up, and followed with impor- tunity ! '" Lady Sanderson first heard him preach on Sunday morning, loth July, 1803 ; a few days after, she sent her servant, Mrs. Thomas, to re- quest an interview, and on Friday, July 22nd, in acceptance of his invitation, she went and break- fasted with him. These incidents are thus alluded to in a letter^ of that date, written by Huntington to Mrs. Charles Martin : " Last night came a woman to me from her mistress, a lady by title. She reads my books. She says she is in sad bond- age to the fear of her rich friends — but having a great desire to hear me, when she set out all fear was taken away, and she came boldly, and felt much melting of soul when she entered the chapel. Some things made her tremble, while others encouraged her." Owing to the smallness of Lady Sanderson's person, Huntington called her " My little one," " My little scrap of honour," and in a letter to Elizabeth Blaker^ she figures as " an amiable person, plain and very neat in her dress, a little delicate scrap, about the size of Ann Taylor."* 1 p. L. 2, p, 205. » P. L. Vol. 3. p. 310. ' 25th July, 1803. Quoted in Facts, Letters, &c., p. 88. * Daughter of Mr. Taylor, of Biggleswade. See ch. 9, § 48, p. 118. 126 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. Writing on 25th July, 1803, he says, "My lady seems to go on pretty well, and sticks close, but sisters, father,' friends, the clergy, and quakers are all at her." However, she showed him their letters. " I hope," comments Huntington, " I may be the means of bringing her soul to God ; as yet she seems very obedient to the word. She mustered up courage to tell her sister that neither she nor her father shall lord it over her conscience." That the friendship between Huntington and Lady Sander- son was solely a religious friendship is proved demonstratively, not only by the letters already quoted, but also by many others. Those who have suggested anything further betray an entire ignorance of Huntington's character. Moreover, though only fifty-eight, he already looked upon himself as an old man. Rheumatism, ague, chest trouble, and other ailments, due in great measure to the hardships of his early life, bore upon him with crushing severity, and he dreaded the rigour of every returning winter and spring. Writing, indeed, in October, 1803, the very year he met Lady Sanderson, he says, " If October handles me so roughly, what will January, February, and March do ? "^ In another letter he says, " Rheu- matism and almost all infirmities peculiar to old age follow hard, and gather fast upon my heels. But let us bless God for a good hope ; it is an * Alderman Skinner. » P. L. I, p. 166, LADY SANDERSON. 127 anchor.'" His constant trouble is how he is going " to get up May Hill ; " and his thoughts when they were not occupied with his great business of trying to save souls, ran, not on matters amatory, but on " a spot of ground in Petersham church- yard " — the joint property of him and his friends John Chapman and James Baker — " the moles' country." There they had erected a substantial tomb, and there all three hoped to be buried. As early as 1796 — that is, six years previous — he had said, " My eye and my heart are now fixed on Petersham churchyard, and my tomb there.'"* He was, indeed, still busy at his old occupation — looking to the end of life. Chapman had his wish, but Huntington's bones, as we shall see, drifted elsewhere. The rest of Huntington's life is indeed largely a record of ill-health and racking pain, and he was rarely for long out of the hands of the physician. That in spite of all these drawbacks he should have applied himself so assiduously to his ministerial labours argues a strength of mind that has rarely been paralleled. Come what might, he was determined to die in harness. Time after time he rose from a bed of sickness in order that his congregation at the chapel should not be dis- appointed. It will perhaps be urged that when Lady Sanderson's friends offered objections — and » p. L. 2. p. 82. ' John Chapman died i8th Jan., 1805, aged 61. His wife, Janet Chap- man, 15th Nov., 1807, aged 87. Both were buried in the Petersham vault. See Ben. Vol. 3 (B. of F.), p. 201 ; P. L. Vol. i, p. 36. 128 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. that they did object the letter now to be cited shows — it would have been better had Huntington severed the connection. All one can say is that he himself did not think so. In this letter, which is dated September, 1803, he says, writing to Lady Sanderson, " I must drop a line or two to let my friend know that I am not a little grieved that I should bring the resentment of her friends upon her, or any odium upon her reputation. Were all taken down verbatim that ever passed between my lady and me, I know of no one thing that would make either of us blush ; and surely we have no cause to fear any that falsely accuse our good conversation in Christ."* In another letter he observes, " The voice of the Holy Ghost is this, * Because ye are sons,' says Paul, ' God has sent forth the Spirit of His Son into your hearts, cry- ing, Abba, Father.' Here, my dear little one, is a compendium of all real religion ; it is the essence and quintessence of all true godliness in the sweet- ness, power, holiness and beauty thereof, which brings us into alliance with God.'"* He begs her to disentangle herself from dead formalists, *' and, as old Newton^ says, to ' hold fast that which is good,' " — his advice, however, to all his correspondents, whose number steadily increased with the years ; though he expresses himself with particular beauty 1 p. L. Vol. 2, p. 218. * Posthumous Letters, Vol. 2, p. 249. 8 Of Olney, and afterwards of St. Mary Woolnoth. P. L. 2, p. 238. PROVIDENCE CHAPEL, CRANBROOK. See p. 131. From a Photo by Mr. C. Good, Cranbrook. PROVIDENCE CHAPEL, CRANBROOK. From a Photo by Mr. C. Good, Cranbrook, LADY SANDERSON. 129 in his letters to his Throgmorton Street friend, Mr. Parr.^ On one occasion when Huntington was preach- ing at Lewes, there mingled among his hearers a young clergyman of the ^J^ J^® '^^jj- Church of England,"" the Rev. William John^ Brook, curate"* at St. Nicholas Church, Brighton. Mr. Brook, deeply moved by Hunting- ton's apostolic gifts and his solemn earnestness, walked up to him after the service and began a conversation ; and as a result there ensued between them an intimate and affectionate friendship, which, though more than once severely strained, was really severed only by death. Mr. Brook often preached before the Prince Regent, who, although as a rule more inclined to rakes than to saints, held him in profound respect. As Louis XHI. taught the Catechism to the frailties whom he visited in the Little Trianon, so the Prince Regent, after scenes at the Pavilion that would have shocked a Casanova, occasionally fell to serious talk with members of his household and suite. Brook did not spare the royal profligate ; and after a particularly earnest sermon the Prince, turning to his chamberlain. Sir Benjamin Bloom- 1 The letters to Mr. and Mrs. Parr (Frances) are in P. L. Vol. 2, pp. 135 to 187. Mr. Parr was a baker. * For full account of these incidents see Ben. Vol. 20, pp. 248 and 278 {Every Divine Law), where a letter from Brook to Huntington of 2nd April, 1805, may be read. ^ Generally, by mistake, called James. * Not Vicar, as some have styled him. I30 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. field, said, "Oh, Sir Benjamin, if Brook is right, we are all wrong." It is said that on another occasion, some notoriously voluptuous scenes at the Pavilion having called for stern reproof, Brook took as his text the words, " The wages of sin is death," and spoke so impressively that the Prince, turning to one of his dissolute companions, said, " If what Brook preaches is true — and who dares to say it is not ? — we are damned to a man." Even before his acquaintance with Huntington Brook had felt un- happy in the Church of England, owing chiefly to his conscientious objections to some of the prayers. Writing on nth October, 1803, Huntington says, " The poor young minister at Brighton is deter- mined to preach no more in the Church."' A little later Brook resigned his curacy ; and his hearers, assisted by Huntington's congregation, who con- tributed ;^200,' erected a chapel^ for him at Brighton. Among the causes to which Huntington and his congregation contributed generously trait. He was that at Cranbrook, his native builds a Chapel at town — a place where he often preached, Cranbrook, . , . , April, 1803. Cither m the open or m a ware- Isaac Beeman , i, • , ,. r • j -mt house belongmg to his friend Mr. (afterwards the Rev.) Isaac Beeman, and where he met with signal success. It gratified him to know * Unpublished letter to Charles Martin. 2 We have got /200 for the poor young man at Brighton. G. V., p. 133. ^ In Church Street, Brighton. On the front is the inscription, " Provi- dence Chapel. Erected by the Rev. W. J. Brook and the Friends of W. Huntington, a.d. 1805." LADY SANDERSON. 131 that he had been useful at Cranbrook, and that its inhabitants had come to hold him in honour. He says, 27th July, 1805, " The refuse, the once off- scouring of Cranbrook, is now in this town the highest officer there — an ambassador of peace and a son of peace.'" After one of his sermons in the warehouse, Mr. Beeman expressed the resolve to erect a chapel. " No, Isaac," said Huntington, " you shall not do so. There is no cause for you to be at the cost yourself. We will see to that."* Decision, with Huntington, invariably heralded prompt action, and he forthwith set himself to the work of carrying out his scheme. While immersed in it he was pestered by his friends to have his portrait painted by Pellegrini, the eminent Italian artist, and eventually he consented. His thoughts, however, were less with the picture than with his books and the Cranbrook chapel project. He grudged the time even for one painting, but when Pellegrini requested sittings for three he bluntly refused. However, by craftily changing the canvas, unknown to Huntington, the artist gained his end, and three paintings^ were accordingly produced. 1 p. L. 2. p. I. * See "A Brief Memoir of Mr. Isaax: Beeman," Gospel Standard, 1873, pp. 442, 486. ^ Samuel Berry, perfumer, Soho, had the first, for which he paid 90 guineas. It afterwards became the property of Mr. W. Stevens, who presented it to the National Portrait Gallery, where it now hangs ; Dr. Butler, surgeon, of Woolwich [see Ben. Vol 20, p. 273] had the second, for which he paid a hundred guineas — " A gentleman of the faculty whose name is Butler, who with his spouse are my children in the faith. They are members with us, and seldom miss coming on the Lord's day." See P. L. I, p. 430; a Mr. Hunt had the third. There have been many other portraits of Huntington, mostly of the libellous sort, making him as ugly as a gargoyle. 132 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. Escaped from the Italian, Huntington eagerly fol- lowed up his Cranbrook chapel scheme. He writes on ist April, 1803,' " I am building in the place of my nativity a little meeting, which is pre- paring in town and sending by waggons. All this, beside a multitude of sick to visit and five times a week to preach, furnishes me with as much as head and heart can manage." His next letter in reference to the chapel is interspersed with memories of limpid skies, the cry of lambs, the note of birds, and the other delights of Crickle- wood in spring. He says — and he addresses his letter from "The Cabin, on board the Providence, at five in the morning" — " Last night, just before I went into the pulpit, came poor old Peg^ to invite me to dine off a pie at her house on Wednesday next. The pee-pee bird, the first harbinger of summer, has appeared. I called Naomi^ to hear its voice. Last week the cuckoo was in my hedge, and now the Martins'^ are coming, so that we shall soon have high summer at Gricklewood. I do not expect to go to Cranbrook before the first or second Sabbath in June. The building, which is a most beautiful one, will be finished in a fortnight, but on the 2gth of this month there is a large fair, from which I choose to be absent. "^ The chapel 1 p. L. 4, p. 178. To Mrs. Waddelow. ^ Mrs. James Baker. 8 Huntington's daughter. * Mr. and Mrs. Charles Martin, of Downham. « P. L. 4, p. 180. To Rebecca Martin. LADY SANDERSON. 133 finished, Huntington went down to open it. Mr. Beeman became its minister, and Huntington often, during the following seven or eight years, preached within its walls. Attached, however, as he was to Cranbrook and the cause he had founded there, he was always glad enough to get back again to his "little oven'" at the back of the chapel in Titch- field Street. Thus, writing from Cranbrook, 20th October, 1805, he says : " I find the weather raw and cold, and shall soon long for my little cabin again. O sweet spot ! To-morrow night I shall set my face Zionward, and never look back till I reach Giant's Castle;"' while in an unpublished letter^ to Mrs. Waddelow he says, " I am very poorly with a cold fever, and have been cooped up almost a whole fortnight in the vestry at the chapel. But I am doatingly fond of this little hog- hole. Here I could willingly spend the long dreary winter, and make my hourly visits to my God. ... I cannot forget you. Though I am not at Littleport, yet I am in my little hut, engaged all day long with my God, my only com- fort. He is present both with you and me, for there is no going from His presence ; and if all the world was gone, while He remains we can be neither poor, forlorn, nor desolate." We have already seen that Huntington was 1 See p. 61. » p. L. Vol. 2, p. 256. * Dated 22nd Nov., 1802. 134 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. sometimes embarrassed by the liberality of Charles Martin ; but some of his other correspondents and friends also gave him cause for protest. In a letter to Mr. John Ring, a schoolmaster of Tun- bridge Wells (4th February, 1805)' he says, after calling himself an original whose religion, ministry, and writings were spontaneous, " I am sorry that you should send me anything to impoverish your- self, as I am not now so short, poor and indigent as formerly, for since the infirmities of old age have crawled on, that load has been removed." With George LansdelP he had to be far firmer, and at last he refused point blank to accept any- thing more from him. " I have given George many lectures," he writes, 14th May, 1807,^ "and repeated advice against throwing away his money. God tells you to learn to show piety at home, that he that provides not for his own house denies the faith, &c. ; and again, the children ought not to lay up for the parents, but the parents for the children. But no advice or counsel has any eff^ect upon George ; he is just as obstinate and as perverse in these things as he was in his politics. . . . Lock,* Jenkins and I are better off" than George, having plenty, and no young children to care for. I have sent back £2.0 of your money to Mr. Bee- ^ Unpublished. 2 See ch. 9, § 49. ^ Unpublished letter. ^ Rev. Algar Lock, who often took services for Huntington, and was afterwards his regular assistant. LADY SANDERSON. 135 man, and shall send ten pounds more to-day, and the five-pound note which you refused to take back when you were here, that I shall send back next week, for I am determined not to impoverish your poor family. My soul abhors your proceedings in these things, for I am fully persuaded that God doth not require this at your hands. Nor will I ever come near you till you have obeyed my voice and dropped this folly, for I am grieved at it." On another occasion he insisted on Lansdell accepting three cows ;' and writing to him on 30th November, 1805, he says, " I have still one hundred and sixty- five goldfinches by me, all of which are at the ser- vice of George, without any security, note of hand, bond, or anything else, and George knows where I live, and the birds are with me, for I have no notion of putting them into a breeding cage in order to increase the brood ; but to have them always at hand that they may help me or my friends out at a dead lift." At the end of October, 1803, Huntington went on a preaching tour into Cambridge- shire ; and, as his letters indicate, Lady ^^- "^^^ ^°"^ ' ' ' -' worketh Sanderson accompanied him. " You wrath, ^ Dec, 1 803. inform me," he says, writing to the Martins on October nth, " that the barn is at my service. I hope to reach Downham on Thursday, the 20th of this month. A lady has dropped into my net, after hunting in vain for five years, and » 25th Oct., 1805. 136 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. will bring Mrs. Williams or Naomi' in her chariot with her, and I shall be accompanied in another chariot by Jenkins. She is more humble and plain than your maid, and you will love her, but her soul is much bowed down. — Parson Sack, S.S." As Huntington became more and more absorbed in his ministerial duties — and even as early as 1790 he had 3,000 hearers and correspondents'^ — so his home anxieties steadily increased, mainly as the result of Mrs. Huntington's failing ; and to make matters worse, she had the misfortune, in October, 1802, to be overturned in a stage-coach.^ In December, 1803, she went into Dorsetshire to visit her brother Benjamin. " The Countess of Hunt- ington," writes her husband,'' " has the gout ; her brother in Dorsetshire fell sick and wished to see her ; she went, but he died the day before her arrival. She expected he had some money, but it is so hid that none can find it. She went out with fourteen pounds ; and being obliged to bury him came home with a double infirmity — the gout in the foot and in the pocket ; and I think the gout, as well as the law, worketh wrath. "^ We have dwelt on Huntington's extreme inti- macy with Lady Sanderson, and we 54. Apostolic ... • ^ 1 o 1- Journeys noticed that m October, 1003, she with Lady . , , . . , Sanderson, accompanied him in a separate carriage to Downham. When, however, they ^ Huntington's daughter, Mrs. Wayte. 2 Ben. Vol. 6, p. 122. ^ p. l. 4, p. 165. * P. L. I, p. i6g. Letter dated Dec. 23rd, 1803. * P. L. I, p. 169 LADY SANDERSON. 137 made a journey to Bolney, in June, 1804, Lady San- derson took him down in her own carriage. He refers to this journey in a letter of June 26th/ and in the unpubUshed portion of a later letter (28th Septem- ber, 1804) he says, " My poor little lady is so un- deservedly kind that she carries the coalheaver anywhere she thinks his black sack is likely to be of use."* We also read of his making ministerial journeys with Mr. and Mrs. James Baker (Old Peg), Mr. James Davidson, Mr. Edward Aldridge, and Mr. Thomas Bensley. Indeed he always liked to be accompanied by at least one friend, and the pleasure was mutual. It may not have been wise of Huntington to journey with Lady Sanderson, and yet small blame, if any, can attend an ailing old man for consenting to travel long, weary dis- tances over terrible roads in comfort rather than in discomfort ; and small blame, if any, also attaches to him for consenting to the company of an agreeable companion, instead of travelling alone. However that may be, Huntington and Lady Sanderson — who, let us notice, made these journeys openly and without any attempt at con- cealment — came to the conclusion that, as they had only the best of intentions, they were justified in turning a deaf ear to the wind of scandal that occasionally played about them, and in ignoring the opinions of the openly censorious. Lady * p. L. 3, p. 353, where date is given, by mistake, Jan. 26. * A portion of this letter is in P. L. 3, p. 362. His own coach, being cnmbrous, was unsuited for long distances. 138 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. Sanderson, on her part, took a holy pleasure in accompanying him on these apostolic journeys. She idealized him, she regarded him as a teacher greater than any who had moved on the earth since the days of Paul, a belief that was shared by others, and which is still held by very many ; and she wished to be to him what Priscilla and other saintly women were to the Bible apostles. For her adulation he often reproved her. " For Christ's sake," he writes (ist October, 1803)' " put not the name of an apostle upon me. I will not suffer it. I am a saved sinner, and that is enough for me." Many notes in her handwriting, some of them appended to letters written by Huntington, have been preserved, and all are intensely religious in tone. Thus, writing on 20th May, 1806, she says in reference to a sermon just preached by Hunt- ington, " Much of the discourse spoke my experience, expressed my feelings, informed my judgment, and led me into the mysteries of the heavenly kingdom more than I had ever seen before ; " and a later letter^ has for postscript, " Dear Mrs. Martin, — I understand in your last letter to the Dr. that you have desired your respects to me ; I therefore desire mine to you ; and that the good Lord may prosper you and yours temporally and eternally is the sincere desire of your friend, Eliza Sanderson." 1 p. L. 2, p. 227. * 3rd Sept., 1807. A portion of Huntington's letter of this date is in P.L. 3. p. 437- LADY SANDERSON. • 139 In 1803 Huntington's friends, the Blakers, became, like so many other Sussex folk, nervous on account of the wiiilam ° threatened Napoleonic invasion. Writ- Dec^io*^?804. ing on 3rd November, Huntington says, owram " I purpose, if God permit, to slip off on Tuesday next, and to preach on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday evenings to them, for they are all under great alarms, being so near the sea coast, and our sworn enemy is daily expected to make his attempts upon us. But the Captain of our salvation will keep the field for His saints, the new man of grace cannot be killed ; nor can those be plundered of their property who have God for their portion.'" In the following year William Blaker's health declined, and as the winter drew to a close it was evident that he could not recover. One morning his daughter Elizabeth, who sat up with him, said, " You were very ill yesterday." " Yes," he said, " I was ; but what I felt nobody knows. The rays of light upon me were as the glory of Lebanon.^ I cannot describe the glory that shone upon me." The Sussex streams were locked in ice, the skies were dark and sullen, but the soul of the God-fear- ing, simple-hearted William Blaker reposed under * About this time the Government made an appeal to every congrega- tion in England to assist them, by means of a collection, in carrying on the war with France. Providence Chapel raised /250, and Huntington sent it to the Government, accompanied by a patriotic letter, which con- cluded, " God save the King! God protect and prosper old England." ' Isa. XXXV. 2. I40 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. an unflecked firmament in transplendent sunshine. Seeing his elder daughter standing at the bedside sobbing, he said, " My dear, we should not sorrow as those who have no hope.'" On receiving the news of Blaker's serious con- dition, Huntington, who was himself unwell, laid the letter before God, and knelt down with the intention of praying that so useful a life might be spared, but feeling "a bar" on his heart, he did not pray that prayer."* On rising from his knees he said to Lady Sanderson, who had just called, *' William Blaker will surely die." Then came the news that the sick man was a little better. " He will relapse," said Hunt- ington, " for he will never rise any more ; " then, though unwell himself, he ordered his coach, and set off post for Bolney. On the way, however, he heard that Blaker was dead, and his own health being so indifferent, and the cross-country roads being, in consequence of the wet weather, almost impassable by carriage, he at once returned to London. The correspondence between Huntington and Miss Elizabeth Blaker in connection with these touching occurrences, published under the title of The Joy of Faith in the Shadow of Death,^ contains 1 I Thess. iv. 13. 2 When Mrs. Blaker was ill, Huntington and Jenkins prayed together for her recovery. See Ben. Vol. 20, p. 273. 3 Ben. Vol. 20. Five letters written between 9th Dec. and 14th Dec. The last is by the Rev. J. Jenkins. LADY SANDERSON. 141 many beautiful passages. " Your father," runs one, " has had the light of God's countenance, with joy unspeakable and full of glory. And thus to die is to end one's days in the possession of the noblest \vish and the most capacious desire in all the book of God, and this is the most expanded hope of the Apostle Paul, who wished * to finish his course with joy.' . . . It is more than dymg in peace and friendship with God and con- science ; for it is shouting victory in the jaws of death. . . . To die in joy is the highest bliss promised to a dying saint." Like Huntington, the Rev. J. Jenkins was deeply affected by the loss of Blaker. " I had no such friend," he said, " in all Sussex. I can neither talk nor write of him with- out finding a sweetness descending on my spirit." In August, 1805, Huntington visited Grantham, Newark, Retford, Helmsley, Ely, Downham,' and other places ; in September he was at Reading ; on October i6th he opened Mr. Brook's chapel at Brighton ; and in May, 1806, he was again at Grantham and Newark,^ where he opened a chapel, and where he met a Mr. Thomas Owram, of Helmsley, in whom henceforward he took a lively interest.^ * p. L. I. p. 104. To the Bakers ; P. L. 2, p. 328. * Not in the company of Lady Sanderson, as Mr. Hooper, by mistake, observes [C. C, p. 3], for he wrote to her while on this journey five letters. * See Latnentations of Satan, Part 2, p. 155. CHAPTER XI JUNE, 1806 I5TH AUGUST, 1808 A TIME OF AFFLICTION In July, 1806, Mr. Charles Martin once more invited Huntington to visit Downham, 56. Garnet , , . . i i- 1 • , Terry. July, but the invitation was aeciined in the -1 QAfi following words :' " My dear friend knows not how I am circumstanced. I have lately been to Newark, Grantham, and Leicester — out a fortnight. I rode 300 miles, preached twelve times, went from the pulpit into the chaise, and rode all night to get home. My companions were Mr. Aldridge^ and Mr. Over.^ Mr. Jenkins has been pressing me to go to Lewes, which I have absoluely refused. I cannot leave 3,000 sheep without a shepherd." Eventually, however, he con- sented to visit the Islanders in August, and he kept his promise. Among those who at one time sat under Huntington was Mr. Garnet Terry, en- graver to the Bank of England, and contributor to the press under the name of " Onesimus." In 1805, Huntington, who disapproved of some of Terry's religious opinions, furiously attacked his 1 Unpublished. (No. 70 in Miss Cooke's Collection.) 26th July, 1807. ^ Mr. Edward Aldridge. He and his brother Joseph were timber mer- chants, 120 Aldersgate Street. The City Press, Messrs. Collingridge's, occupies the site of their premises. 3 John Over, of Fleet Market, butcher. A TIME OF AFFLICTION. 143 late adherent in a pamphlet entitled Onesimus in the Balance ;' and the rasping personalities in it provoked Mr. Terry to commence an action for libel. " Mr. Terry," says Huntington, '' finding he cannot reply to my book, is desperate ; he has engaged the Solicitor-General and other eminent counsel against me." The turn affairs took, how- ever, presently cast Huntington into deep distress. Writing to a Kentish friend, he says, " Many daily petitions and tears have I put up for the poor little knot at Cranbrook, but seldom have I craved the prayers of others. Now ' necessity is laid upon me,' and I am constrained ; therefore greet brother Beeman and the rest in my name. Brethren, pray for me ! "^ Ultimately, however, Huntington was led to see that in respect to the use of per- sonalities he had been in the wrong, consequently he apologised for them, and Mr. Terry promptly withdrew the action. This incident had the excel- lent effect of causing Huntington practically to retire from controversy,^ a field in which, owing to his imperiousness, his impetuosity, and his use of forgetting the courtesy always due to an opponent, he so often appears to disadvantage. Hencefor- ward Terry took every opportunity to preach against Huntington and Huntington's books,* and ' Ben. Vol. 20, p. 328. * Letter quoted in Facts, Letters, &c., p. 43. ^ I think he entered the field only once more — against the Rev. Vigors MacCulIa. * See P. L. Vol. 4, p. 297. 144 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. a little later he published a work in three volumes entitled The Pulpit, or a Biographical and Literary A ccount of Ejninent Popular Preachers, among the notabilities included being Huntington, who is treated with some severity, though his genius is fully recognised. Commenting on Huntington's remarkable career, Terry observes, " Genius will, sooner or later, force its passage. He who thinks that he is great, and can feel himself to be so, will at last teach men to think with him. It is also the lot of superior beings, of those few among man- kind who look high, to have fortune or Providence on their side. William Huntington seems favoured in this respect." Mrs. Huntington was now fast hastening to her grave. Writing on 30th November, ^ Mr^s^hhTnf 1805, to George Lansdell, Huntington D^c°i'806 says, " The Countess is a most enor- mous size. Dr. Butler, from Wool- wich, says 'tis the dropsy, and her liver is decayed, and that spirits have destroyed it. This has tried me for upwards of twenty years. But her appe- tite abates not in the least, nor will she refrain on any account, but keeps on as ravenous as ever, and as insensible as a poor creature can be. I often think of poor Lot's wife. All that she has seen of God in me seems to be lost upon her." Sad as all this reads, an even deeper note is struck by a writer in the Gospel Magazine for 1809.' "It 1 Written after Mrs. Huntington's death, but, of course, during Hunt- ington's life. MRS. HUNTINGTON'S TOMB IN PETERSHAM CHURCHYARD. See p. 146. From a Photo by the Rev. W. H. Oxley , Vicar of Petersham. SEATHOLDERS TICKET. OLD CHAPEL. At the back of the Ticket is the name of vhe seatholder, WiUiam Taylor. m ^w^ 'W^' A TIME OF AFFLICTION. 145 appears," says that writer, " Mr. Huntington viewed his wife as one who enjoyed the love of God as well as himself, which I believe he after- wards had reason to doubt," and it must have cut him to the quick to be obliged, when she presented herself at the communion table, to pass her by' — and yet no other course lay open to him as a con- scientious minister. That Mrs. Huntington, with her habit of jealousy, should have taken a dislike to Lady Sanderson is more than probable ; and there is a story afloat to the effect that once when Lady Sanderson stayed at Cricklewood, Mrs. Huntington refused to attend the dinner-table, preferring to stand looking out of a landing window into the garden. Stories of this kind, however, should be received with great caution, for some members of Huntington's circle were deeply pre- judiced against Lady Sanderson. Huntington's son Ebenezer, for example, removed from the letters which he published all the paragraphs in which she appears in a favourable light.' But even if this story is authentic, we may be sure that Huntington would, with his usual tender- ness, and perhaps with some kindly attempt to restore her to good humour, tell her not to be silly, and lead her back to her place at table. 1 It was well known at the chapel that Mrs. Huntington was passed solely on account of her intemperate habits. ^ In one letter (gth Sept., 1805) to Lansdell, Mrs. Huntington's name is linked pleasantly with LadySamderson's : " Lady Sanderson, her daughter, the Countess, Lois, and Dr. Sack have all turned graziers," &c. I have never seen a letter suggesting unpleasantness between them. 146 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. All the evidence in existence — to say nothing of the beauty and purity of his character as re- vealed in a thousand winning passages in his priceless works — goes to prove that Huntington in these various trying situations acted in an irre- proachable manner. We shall presently have occasion to notice the touching affection of his children for him. It is inconceivable that these children who, whatever their weaknesses, were, as abundance of documentary evidence proves, sincere Christian men and women, would have preserved this tender attitude towards their father, and to the very end, had they resented his treatment of their mother. There is, indeed, nothing whatever against Huntington except the tittle-tattle of eaves-dropping servants, and the slanderous state- ments of unscrupulous and avowed enemies. Mrs. Huntington died gth December, 1806, and was buried in Mr. Chapman's vault in Petersham churchyard, her name, which is not inscribed on the tomb — now half covered with ivy — appearing in the register as " Mrs. Mary Huntington, of Hendon, Middlesex." The records of biography are crowded with sad stories, but none is sadder than that of the downfall of the once bright, cheerful, and even prayerful Molly Huntington. Shortly after her death some blundering visitor at Cricklewood blurted out, " Oh, Mr. Huntington, 1 have never heard you mention your late wife, nor have you ever given us any account of her end." •2 I ■S^ V? A TIME OF AFFLICTION. 147 The remark so affected him that he burst into tears, and without making any reply he rose from the table and quitted the room. Another great trouble to him was the illness of Mr. Wayte, his daughter Naomi's husband. " Poor Naomi," he writes (7th March, 1807)' " is in a bad plight, her husband in a deep decline, the business pretty well all gone. The girl is a mere skeleton, worn down with grief and fatigue ; but I doubt not it is for good. . . . None of these facts destroy a good hope through grace." These various blows naturally had their effect on Hunt- ington, but, like John Newton, he never allowed domestic trials to interfere with his ministerial duties ; and he continued his preaching both in London and in the country as if nothing more than usual had happened. Of Huntington's unpublished letters, by far the most striking is one written on 14th January, 1807, to George Lansdell, who on the 2nd of the month had lost a beloved daughter, Sarah. In the midst of his anguish, the poor father, heartbroken, mind unhinged, wrote imploring Huntington to raise the dead girl to life again ; one of his arguments being that such an event would have the result of stemming the tide of infidelity. In reply Huntington said, " Your letter rather surprised me. To raise the dead in sin to a life of faith is, most certainly, a work I am called to, and engaged in, and in which 1 Unpublished. To G«orge Lansdell. 148 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. I hope and believe I have some small success. But to raise dead bodies to a mortal life is not in my commission, nor will I ever attempt it unless God Himself should make it known to me that it is His divine will that such a miracle should be wrought in answer to the prayers of so unworthy a person as I. As to the resurrection of your daughter being of any use to infidels is talking nonsense. Abra- ham's answer to the rich man in hell is sufficient upon this point. They have Moses and the prophets. Yea, more, we have Christ and His apostles. Let them hear them, and if they believe not these, neither will they be persuaded though one rose from the dead." On 31st March, 1807, the Whig ministry under Lord Grenville resigned, giving place to a Tory Government ; and Huntington, who regarded Whigism and Jacobinism as the same thing, wrote to Mr. LansdelP in high spirits. " God reigns, George ! " he said, " Heaven and earth smile upon us ! The king stands firm, and God upholds him in standing. The Jacobins are dismissed with disgrace, contempt, and scorn, as enemies to God, Government, the country, and all real religion. Buonaparte is cowed and wearied, and begins to truckle and to fawn. Long, long, has that monster prospered. . . . It is well, George, that you have escaped Jacobinism ; this party are the favourers of Popery." 1 2nd April, 1807 Facts, Letters, &c., p. ii6. A TIME OF AFFLICTION. 149 As long as Mrs. Huntington lived, Huntington's hearers, conversant with the purity of ' . -^ . 58. Breach their pastor's character, viewed his with Brook. . . . 1 X 1 r- 1 -1 Sept. 1,1807. intimacy with Lady banderson with equanimity, but after her death it gradually dawned upon them that Huntington might marry Lady Sanderson. Some of them acclaimed the prospect, for Lady Sanderson's deep interest in Huntington's religious work was well known, and, furthermore, she had ingratiated herself with many of the members of his circle. His dearest friends had become her friends. She visited old James and Peg Baker ; she was on terms of affectionate intimacy with the Martins ; and the Morrises, the Marchants, the Barstons, the Lansdells, and others had been honoured guests at her house in Charlotte Street.* On the other hand, some of the members of his congregation (including two or three ladies, who would have been willing to succeed Mrs. Huntington), and a few of his other friends, re- garded Lady Sanderson with disfavour, and declared that a union between her and Huntington would prove detrimental to the interests of religion. Among them was the outspoken Rev. W. J. Brook, who during Mrs. Huntington's lifetime had been on good terms with Lady Sanderson.' " Sir," he said to Huntington — and it will be remembered ^ Unpublished portions of letters partially printed in P. L., vol. 3, p. 418, ist Dec, 1806, and P. L., vol. 3, p. 443, 3rd Dec, 1807 (Miss Cooke's collection). '^ See the kindly allusion to her in his letter of loth May, 1805. i5o LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. that in old time he had reproved the Prince Regent — "you are surrounded with hypocrites who are doing you injury. Why encourage their company? " To which Huntington replied, " If God has given you, Brook, discernment to see it, He has not shown it to me." " Then," said Brook, " the time will come when you will assuredly find it so. To speak plainly, marriage with Lady Sanderson is not likely to promote either your personal peace and comfort or your ministerial success." *' I have no thoughts of marriage. Brook," said Huntington, and for the time being Brook was satisfied. To another friend, who touched upon the sub- ject, Huntington observed bluntly, " I no more want a wife than a toad wants side pockets." He had reckoned, however, without Lady San- derson. She who previously had regarded him only with reverence and admiration mingled with awe, now found herself transfused by a more tender passion. Little by little, and day by day, she made herself more and more necessary to his happiness. Her considerate manner and her win- ning ways steadily gained on him, and he excused her vanity and fussiness for the sterling qualities which lay behind them, and the zeal which she persistently displayed in the interests both of the chapel and of religion generally. Her " rich A TIME OF AFFLICTION. 151 pocket book," though some have hinted otherwise, could certainly have had nothing to do with the matter ; for while his income was over ^^2,000 a year, hers scarcely reached ^600.' Doubtless, however, the idea of being united to a lady of title had some weight with a man in whose com- position, though he little suspected it, there was a distinct vein of vanity. So, notwithstanding his protests to Brook and others — notwithstanding his own resolutions — he took the affectionate — we were going to say idolatrous — little creature into his arms and asked her to be his wife ;* and she who for months had been manoeuvring to bring about this happy condition of things, exhibited, we may suppose, the coyness, the surprise and confu- sion, which are considered the correct accompani- ments of such situations. And so for the third time the lion was in love. It was not the tem- pestuous passion which he had conceived for the pretty and seductive Susan Fever, nor the more considered and more calculating affection which he * Her own income, together with her daughter's, which she conld not touch, amounted to ;^i,5oo. * The following apocryphal story is told, and we tell it because it illus- trates the popular and correct idea that it was Lady Sanderson and not Huntington who brought about the engagement. " For some time." runs the story, " she had treated Lim almost with the familiarity of a wife, and one day, after some affectionate action on her part, she seized the oppor- tunity to say, ' Oh, Mr. Huntington ! What do you think the world will say of us now? That you and I make one.' This stung him to the quick, and with his usual impetuosity he said, ' Oh, do they ? Then I'll pretty soon put a stop to that,' and forthwith he offered her marriage." Huntington and Lady Sanderson would not talk like this before a servant, and it is improbable that either he or she would reveal such a conversa- tion. It is, indeed, merely one of the many stories in the Huntington apocrypha. 152 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. had exhibited towards the homely and faithful Molly Short ; it was rather the amiability of a kindly and rather damaged old gentleman towards a tender, demonstrative, and pertinacious admirer — an amiability to which, however, a warmer feel- ing gradually succeeded. In August, 1807, Hunt- ington prepared to make his usual journey to the Isle of Ely. Writing to Mr. Martin, on the 8th, he says, in an unpublished letter, " I have been obliged to put off my journey so long that I am afraid your harvest is done and your barn filled." He hopes to be with them on the i6th. Then he goes on, " I can preach in Mrs. Waddelow's barn, as hers does not appear to be so much a barn as a granary, and therefore, I suppose, is not filled at harvest. My chapel has been robbed ; the thief is in jail, and I am bound to prosecute him.' Poor Naomi's husband has been dying for weeks." It had been arranged that Brook should come up from Brighton to take Huntington's duty for the three Sundays he was expected to be away. Soon after arriving in town Brook paid a visit to Crickle- wood, where he was received by Mrs. Wayte, who cordially welcomed him, and pressed him to make his home there during her father's absence. In the course of the conversation, however, he learnt, * The thief was one James Stock, the dissolute son of the pew-opener at Providence Chapel. He broke into the chapel on August 3rd, 1807, and stole several articles of plate, and three guineas and a half. There is a paragraph respecting the occurrence in the Globe of 5th August, 1807. Huntington is referred to as a " Minister who is universally knov/n in the religious world for his peculiar doctrines, manners, and extraordinary history." A TIME OF AFFLICTION. 153 to his " surprise and sorrow," that Lady Sander- son was in the house, superintending various alterations preparatory to her marriage with Huntington. Straightway he asked for pen and paper, and on receiving them he wrote the follow- ing passage of Scripture : — " Ye shall not take their daughters unto your sons, or for yourselves. Did not Solomon, king of Israel, sin by these things ? Yet among many nations was there no king like him, who was beloved of his God, and God made him king over all Israel ; nevertheless even him did outlandish women cause to sin." — Neh. xiii. 25, 26. Having folded and sealed it, he handed it to Mrs. Wayte, bade her give it to her father, and then left the house. Poor Brook, without the shadow of a doubt, meant for the best, but to send a message of that nature was surely a monstrous piece of presump- tion ; for Lady Sanderson, whatever her faults, professed to be a Christian, and her letters cer- tainly bear the stamp of sincerity. He went not to Cricklewood again, but, consonant with his agreement, he preached on the three Sundays at Providence Chapel. At Littleport, Huntington drew large congrega- tions. " My audience," he wrote on August 17th to Lady Sanderson, " was very great, orderly, attentive, and devout. Small country carriages came into the town in all directions, and a multi- 154 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. tude of respectable people assembled. I preached from Job xxix. ii, 12, 13. Some smiled, while others cried ; and various aspects on different countenances proclaimed various operations.'" On his return to Cricklewood, about September 2nd,^ he received the message which Brook had left for him. No wonder he was incensed. No wonder he expressed himself vehemently, and threatened to sever the connection. In an unpublished portion of the letter to Mr. Charles Martin, of 3rd September, Chapel Thief. 1807, we learn more about the chapel ^Broo^'k''^ thief. After observing that the affair, through the devil's never-failing assist- ance, had plagued his mind ever since the robber's imprisonment, Huntington continues, " Last Friday I was ordered to Hicks's Hall, to find the bill before the grand jury, and was kindly treated, and soon dismissed. Last Saturday, while at dinner, I was fetched to town to attend the Old Bailey, but the trial came not on. On Monday morning I rose and begged of God not to hang, but to transport the prisoner. At three in the afternoon, I dressed myself in all my best, and was admitted on the bench, with the Lord Mayor and the two judges. The trial was carried on with ease and despatch. I was admitted to a whispering conference with the judge. When I gave him the fellow's pedigree, he granted my 1 p. L. Vol. 2, p. 266. See also Vol. 2, p. 270. 3 Brook preached at Providence Chapel on August 30th. A TIME OF AFFLICTION. 155 request. The prisoner is cast for transportation. Who has a God Uke unto ours ? " On Sunday, i8th October, 1807 — and Mr. Jenkins was visiting Cricklewood at the time — Huntington received the distressing news that his friend Mr. Joseph Morris, of Lewes, was dan- gerously ill with typhus. Immediately after administering the ordinance in the afternoon he stepped into his carriage, which had waited for him at the chapel door, and, in the company of Lady Sanderson, set off for Lewes — leaving Jenkins to take the evening service. In the dead and silence of night the anxious watchers at poor Morris's bedside were startled by a knocking at the front door ; and the servant who opened it presently returned with the news that Mr. Huntington had come, and wished to see his friend. He and Lady Sanderson were invited into the sick room, and his impressive and affectionate manner at that strange hour, and at that solemn moment of the night, had an effect on all present which they never forgot. Falling upon his knees, Huntington prayed with fervour for the recovery of his friend, and, by God's mercy, his prayers were answered. The presence of Huntington, and the sound of his voice, of themselves put heart into the sick man, and he not only from that hour steadily recovered, but he lived afterwards *' a use- ful and eminently Christian life for 19 years.'" 1 He died in 1826, aged 74. 156 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. On returning to Cricklewood, Huntington was visited by his friends Mr. and Mrs. T. Barston, of Grantham, who stayed with him a month/ and then came Mr. and Mrs. Lansdell and the Misses Blaker, who stayed respectively seven and twelve weeks. The winter again tried him severely. Writing on December 24th, he says, ** Old age creeps on apace. This will, I think, be a long, cold, trying winter ; and May Hill very difficult to climb."^ Early in 1808, Mr. and Mrs. Brook visited Cricklewood, and stayed three weeks, a fact which is pleasing to chronicle, because it proves that the friendship between Huntington and Brook was not seriously impaired, even by the episode of the " outlandish women." On January ist, 1808, Huntington removed his Tuesday evening lecture from Monkwell Street to Grub Street Chapel,^ a building which held as many as 2,000 persons, and he often filled it ; and in the following August he re-visited Grantham,* where he influenced Joseph Chamberlain,^ who afterwards became one of the most diligent of his preachers. 1 p. L. 3, p. 441. Letter of 5th October, 1807. * P. L. 3, p. 441. Letter of 5th October, 1807. 8 See P. L.i., 280. * See Letters. P. L. 4, p. 299 ; P. L. i, p. 287. *> See Lamentations of Satan, Part 2, p. 9, and ch. 12 § 62. CHAPTER XII I5TH AUG., 1808 I3TH JULY, 181O MARRIAGE WITH LADY SANDERSON Huntington and Lady Sanderson had arranged that their marriage should take place qq "what by licence at St. Marylebone Parish fo,!r!*ir5th Church, on 15th August, 1808. Hunt- Aug.,i808. tington and his party, which included Mr. Thomas Bensley, his publisher, and Mr. Thomas Fielder, " a proctor in good practice," were the first to arrive ; and Huntington, seated in a pew, was soon lost in meditation — the business that had drawn him to the church having completely vanished from his mind. At last, arousing from his reverie, he stood up, and addressing Mr. Bensley, enquired in a very serious tone, " What wait we for ? " Mr. Bensley bowed, and replied, " For the lady, sir." " Oh, indeed ! " commented Huntington. The bride and her train having in due course arrived, the ceremony, which was conducted by the Rev. Benjamin Lawrence, took place without further incongruity. The parties styled themselves William Hunt Huntington and Elizabeth Sander- son ; ' Huntington's signature being, as it so fre- 1 As Lady Sanderson continued to retain her surname, we shall so style her to the end of the book. In legal documents she is called Lady Elizabeth Hunt Huntington. 158 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. quently was in his latter years,^ in a small and trembling hand. The witnesses were Thomas Fielder and Rebecca Buten, one of Lady Sander- son's maids. And so, at the age of 63, the Cranbrook derelict and Thames Ditton coalheaver was united to the Lord Mayor's widow; and lovers of romance and of stories with happy endings, perceiving some sort of parallel between his career and that of Dick Whittington, settled themselves comfortably in the sunshine and purred satisfac- tion. After the ceremony Huntington and his wife left London for Downham, where he preached on the following Sunday. If the press made much ado about Huntington's coach, they made more about his marriage. The Satirist,'^ which on this occasion^ outdid even itself in scurrility and blasphemy, presented its readers with a plate, entitled, " The Love Feast," in which Huntington takes Lady Sanderson by the hand, while a hoofed and goat-faced demon plays the part of Hymen, and some imps busy themselves in filling a coal- sack with Lady Sanderson's supposed wealth. All indeed that malice could do, malice very heartily did." The news of the marriage was 1 His letters have many references to the result of his failing health on his hand. ' The Satirist or Monthly Meteor, commenced in 1808 by George Manners, continued by William Jerdan. This obscene periodical lashed without mercy statesmen, authors, the Methodists, indeed anybody who happened to incur its displeasure. It singled out Huntington for particular abuse. ^ October ist. ^ " I am the subject of a newspaper [National Register"] and of a reviling magazine." P. L., vol. 2, p. 370. (To Isaac Beeman.) In another number The Satirist represented him in the pulpit, and the devil standing at his side and whispering in his ear. See P. L., vol. 3, p. 195, letter of 17th Oct., 1811, &c., " Every periodical magazine lampoons me." ■. W. J. BROOK, REV. JOSEPH CHAMBERLAIN of Urighton. of Leicester. See p. 129. See p 156 REV. SAMUEL TURNER," of Sunderland. See pp. 171, 181. REV. TORL4L JOSS See p. 30. MR. HENRY MARTIN. See p. 117. REV. J. JENKINS, of Lewes See p. 98. MARRIAGE WITH LADY SANDERSON. 159 received at the chapel with mingled feelings. Some of the members expressed pleasure, others — but as will presently be seen unnecessarily — ^went in some fear lest the union should prove detri- mental both to the cause in particular and to the interests of religion generally. Of his intimate friends, one only, the Rev. W. J. Brook, was implacable. Brook, indeed, expressed himself so strongly that Huntington was led to snap the last thread of the bond which had so agreeably united them. " No one," he once impetuously observed, " who is a friend of Brook can be a friend of mine ! " Brook, who took the circumstance sorely to heart, describing it as almost crushing him, thought of writing to Huntington, but " after prayer declined to do so," ^ and turned for consolation to his Bible, and especially the first chapter of Habakkuk. Huntington's marriage made not a hair's breadth difference to his course of life. At . 61. The Gold the chapel everythmg contmued un- stream. At , , , 1- • Cranbpook ^ .- changed, the apostolic journeys were and Little- *^* made periodically as usual. Lady ^ '^ Sanderson endeavoured to perform the duties of a minister's wife, and as the unpublished portions of of his letters prove, she continued to make herself agreeable to his friends ; for sentences such as ** My dame sends her love to you and Mrs. Morris ; " " My dame joins in kind love to you, to Becky, * See Letters written by W. J. Brook, 1812, p. 247 (letter to his wife, Ann). i6o 'i,:. LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. Henry, and William ; " or affectionate postscripts in Lady Sanderson's hand accompany most of these letters. To his relations she also showed herself kindly. Soon after his marriage Huntington erected, with her acquiescence, for three of his sisters a cot- tage at Hazelden Hill, Cranbrook, which he named after her, "My Lady's Cottage";' and at first she showed herself friendly towards Huntington's children. That her habits did not always chime with his goes without saying, but any differences that presented themselves were soon adjusted. The principal trouble came from the fact that, while Huntington was generous to folly, Lady Sander- son was even amusingly economical. One great service that she rendered him — a ser- vice for which she has never received credit — was (though it seems harsh to say it) that she saved Huntington from his children. Huntington's sons, though sincere Christians, and on that account worthy of honour, were utterly devoid of any kind of business faculty. In this respect they were all alike, and among them they obtained and lost over ;^4,ooo of their father's money. Ebenezer, who was a bookseller, and had the privilege of selling his father's publications, which commanded a remark- able sale, proved to be the most incompetent, and having been entrusted with most, lost most. With the advantages which he enjoyed he would, if possessed of only ordinary business qualities, have * Erected in i8og. On the main road from Cranbrook to Maidstone. SEATHOLDERS TICKET (NEW CHAPEL, GRAY'S INN LANE). This- ticket belonged to Mr. Waller, grandfather of Mr. Joseph Lock, of Denmark Park, S.E., and Mr. T. B. Lock, of Balham. COMMUNION TICKET OF MR. JAMES WILMSHURST, Grandfather of Mr. Jonathan Wilmshurst. of Cranbrook. w MARRIAGE WITH LADY SANDERSON. i6i made a little fortune. Gad and William also allowed considerable sums to slip through their fingers, while if Benjamin (" the black sheep " of the family — though he did nothing very bad) lost less than his brothers, it w^as only because he was entrusted with less. In short they had their father's weaknesses without his genius. Streams of money, then, were constantly flowing from the sympathetic and tender-hearted Huntington into these estimable but hopeless channels, and it is quite certain that, despite the largeness of his in- come, his sons, without meaning any ill towards their father, whom, indeed, they loved and revered, would eventually have reduced him to bankruptcy and disgrace. But Lady Sanderson, who had the insight, the grip, the financial ability — and let us add the failings — of the canniest of Quakers, a sect to which she at one time belonged, promptly put a period to the terrible waste. As if by the motion of an enchanter's wand the gold stream suddenly ceased to flow, Huntington had rest from his Danaidical labours, and the Huntington family, who quite failed to realise that there had been any fault on their own part, came to regard their father's new wife as a sort of hell-cat. Some of Lady Sanderson's actions, indeed, may seem un- kind, and she was admittedly a dour, unsentimental, and inflexible little lady ; but there are situations in which the actions that seem most unkind are really the very kindest, and this apparently was a i62 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. ease in point. Even her counsel, which was followed, that Huntington's works should be trans- ferred from Ebenezer Huntington to Mr. Thomas Bensley, can, one judges, be defended under this head. Not that Ebenezer Huntington is unde- serving of sympathy.' He deserves it, just as all other persons who are hopelessly incapable as business men certainly deserve it. But that is the utmost that can be said. Even as it was, with all her care and all her vigilance, and notwithstanding her inflexible attitude towards Huntington's family. Lady Sanderson was successful only to the extent that she was able to keep her husband's expenditure just below his income. Owing to his lavish generosity, she could do nothing more, but even that was an achievement, for which admirers of Huntington owe her some gratitude. On January 8th, 1809, Huntington revisited Cranbrook. On returning he met with an acci- dent which for a time confined him to his house f but he made light of it, — not even mentioning it in his letter of January 12th, in which he says, " I returned from Cranbrook, where it snowed and rained all the time I preached ; but this made no difference to the hungry and thirsty, the poor and needy, whom neither wind nor rain can ever keep back. There is great work going on in my native place, and I have not a little honour even in my own country. "3 1 See Facts and Letters, p. 56. « P. L. Vol. 3, pp. 154, 468. s P. L. 3, p. 468. To Chas. Martin. MARRIAGE WITH LADY SANDERSON. 163 In July he and Lady Sanderson — Lady Sander- son's daughter EHza, who resided with them, accom- panying them — were once more at Littleport, where he wrote on the 27th : " Yesterday I was brought very low ; a newspaper arrived with French news and French triumphs announcing the total defeat of the Austrian army [at Wagram, on July 5th] . The gnats are so innumerable in the fens that you may see them in the sides of the ditches like clouds of smoke. My dame is all day long straining at gnats. They have bitten Eliza ; but as for me I have received no damage ; my old hide is too tough.'" In the meantime Huntington's warm heart had been relenting towards his friend Brook, and his letters of this period contain sympathetic references to him. " Poor Jenkins and Brook are both ill," he wrote on 30th October, 1808, to Rebecca Martin, " so that though the harvest is increasing, the labourers are decreasing."* It had been arranged that a chapel just erected at Chichester should be opened by Huntington on 6th September, 1809, and Brook (who had regained his health) and some other ministers, had promised to attend. Hunting- ton, who arrived at the chapel before the afternoon service, went into the vestry behind the pulpit where several ministers, including Brook, were assembled. After the conventional salutations Brook, address- » p. L. 2, p. 167. To Mr. Parr. >P.L. 4.303. i64 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. ing Huntington, said, " As you have to preach, sir, you may Hke to be alone, and we will leave you." Huntington replied, " All go but you. Brook." The interval was necessarily short, and the nature of the conversation is unknown. There were no doubt a few warm-hearted words delivered in husky voices, and then the big-framed man issued from the vestry with a moist eye and mounted the pulpit to preach from the text, i Cor. iii. lo — 13, " Other foundation can no man lay." And so the breach was finally healed ; but Brook and Huntington were never to each other quite the same as they had been in the old days before the investiture of " the little one." Among those who had derived comfort from Huntington's preaching was Miss Miss^Mary Mary Chamberlain, of Leicester, sister ^ A^PennlTa' ^f the Joseph Chamberlain who had o t 8*1809 ^^"^^ under Huntington's influence at Grantham in August, 1808.' In Sept., 1809, she fell seriously ill, and as her end was seen to be fast approaching, a friend — Mr. Ben- jamin Cort — wrote to Huntington, begging him to visit Leicester again before her departure.^ Owing, however, to engagements at Cranbrook and Rother- field, Huntington was unable to comply, but he sent her, through Mr. Cort, his kind love, and wished her a " good journey to the heavenly 1 See p. 156, and Ben. Vol. 6, p. 255. 2 The Love of Christ Always the Same, Part 2. Also Ben. Vol. 6, p. 249. MARRIAGE WITH LADY SANDERSON. 165 kingdom." One of her friends having enquired whether she remembered a saying of Hunting- ton's, " If perfect love had cast out all fear, you would be no more afraid of death than I am of you," she replied, " Yes, I do, and I think that some who are not so strong in faith as Mr. Hunt- ington can say the same. I feel no fear." A friend read to her the 107th Psalm, the last chapter of St. James, and the eleventh of Hebrews. Her face lighted with happiness. Death removed his alarming vizard, and she passed into his halls as to a bridal. " The news," says Huntington, " was no more than I expected, and yet it was very affecting to me, and so it was to all in my house." The incidents of Miss Chamberlain's last days' led him to select as his text at Cranbrook St. Matt. XX. 13, and his sermon, " A Penny a Day," is one of the best remembered of his pulpit achievements. Referring to it in a letter to Mrs. Rebecca Martin, i6th November, 1809, he says, ** Our friends have earnestly entreated me to print it, which has taken me the spare time of three weeks. It is a sweet subject."" To Huntington's affection for his old friends, James and Peg Baker, we have several ■'. ^ ' . 63. Death of times referred. In sunshine and in James Baker, shower those two had stood steadily by ' There is a reference to her death in P. L. Vol. i, p. 393. » P. L. Vol. 4. p. 103. i66 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. him ; and though he was often rough and harsh in speaking of or to other persons, he was never any- thing but gentle towards them. He had hoped, as we have seen, that he, they, and the Chapmans would some day rest together in the tomb at Petersham — " rest together in the dust till the archangel's trump shall silence that of the gospel, and proclaim an eternal jubilee to the covenant seed of the Son of God.'" That, however, was not to be. " These poor souls and I," observes Hunting- ton, alluding to the Bakers, " moved in consort, like the cherubim and his wheels, for when I was down they were down, when I was exalted, so were they."^ Writing to them on 17th August, 1792, he says, " I take it for granted that our old friend Peg is still feeling after a path that is overgrown with moss, where it will be easy for her corns, and where she can walk in her old clouted easy shoes. Ah, poor Peg ! thy road shall have some rough as well as smooth steps. The unction from the Holy One shall lead thee. James, God bless thee ; Peg, God be gracious to thee."^ After visiting them on 13th May, 1805, he writes,** " My poor old dears little think what a glee and heavenly sensation rolled over my mind when I gave my last look at them getting into the coach, at the 1 Ben. Vol. 3 (B. of F.) • Ben. Vol. 3 (B. of F.), p. 191. « P. L. i.. 82; G. v., p. no. * G. v., p. 120. P. L. i., 103. MARRIAGE WITH LADY SANDERSON. 167 thought of going shortly to our eternal home and safe abode. I looked back upon you with plea- sure and with unspeakable delight ; something of heaven springing up in my heart, seeming to say, Ere long you will all be gone, and talk over again the things which are so imperfectly known in this vain world. I cannot describe w^hat I felt." To James, in 1806, he says very beautifully,' " I was sorry to hear my poor dear friend had got his old disorder returned upon him ; but we must come to our end some way or other. God has not hurled you, as Job speaks, out of your place like a storm: nor, like a tempest, stolen you away in the night. You are gently gathered, not hastily plucked. God takes down your tabernacle a pin at a time, and loosens the cords as you are able to bear it. Oh, what must the change be to go from a body of death to a fulness of life, from a bed of sickness to eternal health ! " If Baker's heart and purse had always been open for Huntington's help in time of need, so, when in old age the Bakers became poor, Hunting- ton requited the years of kindness by, in his turn, rendering assistance. He pressed them, more- over, to give up their business, and come and reside at Cricklewood, and there end their days. " Dearly beloved in the Lord,'" he says, " I was, and still am grieved to see you, so ill as you are, attending 1 p. L. I, p. 109; G. v., p. 113. ' P. L. Vol. I, p. 112. G. v., p. 129. Letter dated 1807. .»•* i68 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. to that shop ; you really hasten your own end and deprive yourself of a little wholesome air, which, in your state, is so much needed. I have now a comfortable bed and a good room entirely at your service, and there is no want of anything, nor creature in the way to make you uneasy — all love you, and you know it. It is my earnest desire, and Lady Sanderson's, that you write to North,' and let him come and weigh and take back your goods,' as you will want nothing here but your wearing apparel, and here are drawers upon drawers for all your clothes. We have a cart at your command to bring anything away, and a coach at your service for you and Peg, and plenty of money. And now, my dear James, as God has prepared a way for you, and provided a room for your reception, a plaid gown, night-caps, three great armchairs, a dutiful and affectionate son to receive you, and a coach at your service to go to chapel, do come, and bring Mrs. Baker with you ; it is my wish. God bless you ! Ever yours in Christ Jesus the Lord, W. H., S.S." " Poor old James and Peg," says Huntington in another letter, " are quite worn out, and are coming home to me, for nothing but death must part us."3 For whatever reason, Huntington's invitation was not accepted, but the letters are * Tea dealer in Fleet Street. ^ The sentence referring to Lady Sanderson is omitted in Ebenezer Huntington's edition of the Letters (Gleanings of the Vintage). 8 G. v., p. i6i. MARRIAGE WITH LADY SANDERSON. 169 valuable as bearing testimony to the kindness not only of Huntington's heart, but of Lady Sander- son's also, revealed as it is by her willingness to inconvenience herself for the sake of these good old folks, her husband's friends, in their time of need. None but a woman sound at the centre would offer to take an aged couple, however deserving, into her house, and provide for them for the rest of their lives ; for in cases of this kind the burden neces- sarily falls not on the master of a house, but on the mistress. These letters also bear witness, along with others, to the unanimity that, as a rule, existed between Lady Sanderson and her husband. A diligent, straightforward, right-living man. Baker was nevertheless on the side of religion, to use Huntington's words, " a poor afflicted creature, much bound in spirit, very dark ; " but as his end drew near, doubt and fear gave place to peace and hope. In February, 18 10, he was fast sinking, and Huntington, who visited him on or about the 24th, writes, " He seemed sweetened in soul, and begged that I would not forget him. From that time he came into my mind continually, I may say in every prayer of mine, and every now and then I sent him a written scrap of encouragement." The next time Huntington called, he found the sick man placid and very happy — " comforted, weeping for joy, and abounding in hope." When Huntington was about to leave. Baker rose to shake hands, but reeled backwards through weak- I70 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. ness. " Ah," he said, " Satan cannot get me down as he used to do." Huntington, amused and pleased at the incident, exclaimed with a smile, " A poor creature that cannot stand alone is banter- ing the devil. Is not this a fulfilment of the scripture, ' Let the weak say, I am strong ' ? "' and then he walked to his chapel, soliloquising as he went along, " Poor James, then, is dying ; he is being perfumed with the Spirit's spikenard." The old man lingered till the following Sunday, March i8th, when he took his leave of this world, his last words being Huntington's quotation, " Let the weak say, I am strong." " He was one of the best of men," comments Huntington, "a dear son of mine, and had stuck close to me for upwards of thirty years, and he now reaps the benefit of it." Huntington was himself far from well. The winter had tried him severely ; and one day he alarmed his friends by falling down in a fit. "I am exceedingly cast down in my mind," wrote an admirer, Mr. Willingham, of Richmond, " from an apprehension that, according to appearances, Mr. Huntington is not long for this world. If the Lord takes him, what a loss the flock of Christ at large will sustain ! "* "I have been very ill for a good while," wrote Huntington to Charles Martin, ^ "and now am better. I do not think I shall ever be 1 Joel iii. lo. " Letter to Rev. S. Turner, 24th February, 1810. Printed in Gospel Advocate, 1873, p. 342. Mr. Willingham was one of the trustees of Bethlehem Chapel. * Letter, unpub., 26th February, i8ro. MARRIAGE WITH LADY SANDERSON. 171 so strong again. A tremor and shaking in the hands and arms seems to abide with me." Never- theless he preached a funeral sermon for Baker, and on the following day, March 26th, set off in the company of a friend, the Rev. Samuel Turner, for Bristol, in order to open a chapel — Gideon Chapel — in that city. It rained every day he was from home, and everything, he says, seemed frown- ing but the work in the pulpit — that was all sun- shine.' 1 See P. L. I, p. 232 (May, 1810), to Mr. Morris. P. L. 2, p. 179 (April gth, rSio), to Mr. Parr. Spiritual Magazine, 1844, p. 285. CHAPTER XIII HUNTINGTON THE MAGNIFICENT. Huntington was considerably above the medium height, and until the asre of about 64. His Ap- * . ^ pearanceand fifty-five had enjoyed robust health. Character. ^^ . i i i i • i • He wore a short cropped black wig, his face was reddish, his eyes were light blue. The general cast of his countenance was grave, but he was playful and humorous, though he had a hasty temper, with which, to do him justice, he was constantly wrestling. He increased the dignity of his appearance by wearing over his wig a three cornered clerical hat, loyally stamped inside with a portrait in gold of George III. To the power- fulness of his frame when he was in his prime many who knew him have borne witness. " The vitality and strength of his constitution," said one, " are fearful to behold." He knew his strength, but, neverthess, trusted not in ample chest or iron thew. He felt himself encompassed by the pro- tection of the Almighty, and that being the case, he was able, despite his untoward birth and his indifferent education, to hold up his head with the best. Among those who were converted by his preach- ing was an Irish Roman Catholic, named John Bryan — a bricklayer's labourer — who, owing to a HUNTINGTON THE MAGNIFICENT. 173 fall in which he broke both his legs, had spent some time in hospital. In the course of a conversation with him, Huntington enquired how he subsisted. " I don't know what is to become of me," replied Bryan, " for my limbs having been broken, I am unable to follow my former occupation." "Then," said Huntington, "you shall, if you like, live with me as my footman ; " and Bryan, who was only too grateful for the offer, at once closed with it.' We have already noticed that Huntington's income from the chapel was large, that he kept a liberal table, and that his house was rarely without guests. It is on record that one Christmas he entertained nearly a hundred persons. Of his offer of hospitality to Mr. and Mrs. Baker we have already spoken. To another old friend, " Betsy," he wrote, " I have heard that you are coming to town at Christmas ; I beg that you will make my house your home as long as you stay. You visited me when I was a beggar, and the good Lord having raised me up from that state of real want, I shall be as glad to see you now as I was then, that you may share in what it has pleased God to give me ; for I hope no worldly prosperity will ever make me forget either the coal sack or the cobbler's seat." When from home he wrote to a friend, who was staying at Cricklewood, " I beg that you, Nan, and Mary, make my house your home; that ^Gospel Standard, 1861, p. 144. 174 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. you make free with the coach, the garden, beds, fruit, or whatever you want ; and it will vex me if you do not order sheep or lamb to be killed when wanted ; and let no peas, beans, or strawberries rot or spoil;"' and other letters are in a similar strain. For pomp and show he had a certain weakness ; thus although at home he was satisfied with his coach and pair, when he travelled into the country to preach he elected to go in state, with four good horses to his carriage, which was provided with a superb hammercloth — a tiger's skin with gilt claws and teeth. Hostile critics, dazzled by these foibles and the report that he had acquired a mine of wealth at Providence Chapel, set it about that he lived in a style resembling that of an Eastern nabob. Then, too, the notion of " Huntington the Magnificent " was eagerly clutched by the masses, who in general love to wonder, and yet again to wonder ; and they pictured to themselves the erstwhile coal- heaver turned oriental voluptuary, reclining amid gilded furniture, carpets of tufted gold, heavy silken curtains, and blazing candelabra. Never was fancy more at fault. In one respect, and one only, was he " Huntington the Magnificent," namely, in his liberality ; for, as we have already intimated, he cast away his wealth as fast as it came ; something after the fashion of an Aladdin » G. v., p. 262. HUNTINGTON THE MAGNIFICENT. 175 imperially scattering his genie-brought dirhems, or of a Zobeide filling with pearls the mouth of any poet whose verses happened to please her. In all his actions the generous heart and the lavish hand are conspicuous ; but, apart from his liberality, he lived as simply as the poorest of his hearers. The Cricklewood voluptuary had but one wife, and her he loved ; the sybarite preferred a hard chair to a soft one, and when at home could generally be found, not reclining among silken curtains and under gold candelabra — ^which were non-existent — but tedding hay with his maids and hinds, pruning his fruit trees, or feeding his stock. The potent liquor which the Georgian Trimal- chio quaffed at his banquets — that is to say, at his homely dinners — was drawn by an honest bucket out of a mossy well, though he certainly gave it the heady name of " Adam's home brewed." A gentle- man who called on him, being asked what he would take, said, " Well, Doctor, I have heard your black currant wine highly spoken of. I should like to taste it." " So you shall," said Huntington, and rang for the footman to bring some up. A large jug of toast and water presently appeared. " That suits me best," said Huntington. He did not smoke, and he was temperate in all his habits except that of snuff-taking.' His silver snuffbox held three ounces, and as it was constantly at the 1 In a letter of 31st Oct., 1808, he asks Mr. Parr to get him "three pounds of snuff at Hardham's, the comer of Fleet Market. Hardham is the man's name, and the number of the snuff is 45." 176 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. service of the thumbs and forefingers of a host of admirers, we learn without surprise that his custom was appreciated by the tobacconist. His friends neglected no opportunity of showing their respect for him. When he entered the room everyone rose, and no one thought of sitting down until he was seated. Possibly they made too much of him, but an evening with Huntington — what with the noble thoughts that flowed from him as a river and his witty sayings, which convulsed the table with merriment — was an event to be remembered. True, he was a tyrant with more than the tyranny of Dr. Johnson, and his remarks were often not only sharp or pungent, but unseasonable and un- just ; but one of the charms of his presence was the uncertainty of what was going to take place. A tactful, good-tempered person, who minded not a smart knock or two, could get out of Huntington more enjoyment — apart from religious help — than from any other man living. He was, as we have seen, an early riser — many of his letters being dated " 4 in the morning." In- deed, in the summer it was no uncommon event for him to get up at two and walk in the woods alone, to enjoy the melody of the birds. For a time he was assisted in his pulpit by the Rev. Richard Hatton, and when Hatton fell ilP he at times had recourse to supplies, to whom, consonant with his nature, he was foolishly liberal. Thus, writing on 1 He died 5th Nov., 1804. «■ ^ s a- Reg d be New »■ ent Stre en remo Chapel ^ e r o j^ a et C ved atT Co ' p ^ =r 2; 5 <: ^ _ W u K- rr S' HH III HUNTINGTON THE MAGNIFICENT. 177 14th August, 1804,' he says, " I gave seven pounds for a man from Guildford the last time I went into Sussex to preach only one Sunday, but he was not worth seven farthings." Eventually, however, as we have already noticed, he had another settled assistant — the Rev. Algar Lock. Huntington was the idol of coachmen, postboys, and watermen, to whom he often tendered half a sovereign when no more than a shilling or so was expected. Though continually eccentric, and often indiscreet, he endeavoured to lead, and doubtless succeeded in living, as blameless a life as mere mortal can. Holiness was his perpetual aim, and no man can fix his eye steadily on that goal without in some measure, by God's grace, attaining success. He has been called a hypocrite, but if there is one mark which stamps everything that he said, or wrote, it is the mark of sincerity. Religion was to him all in all. " The throne of grace," he says, " in which the Redeemer dwells, the best of all fathers shining in His face, and the most holy and ever adorable Spirit moving, attracting, and alluring the soul to approach Him, is my heaven, and all the heaven that I ever knew, felt, or enjoyed in this world."* But all Huntington's works, open them where you will, have the same sterling ring. Every year, at the beginning of December, his thoughts reverted to the Sunbury garden and the 1 Unpublished portion of the letter which appears in P. L. 3, p. 356. ^ P. L. 3. p. 431. 3rd Apr. 1807 N I'/S LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. vision in the pear tree. Writing to a Mr. Willows, 26th December, 1801,' he says, " Three weeks, or thereabouts, before Christmas, now twenty-eight years ago, I came forth in the second birth, and am now in the twenty-ninth year of my age from that date ; and, bless my God, am by no means tired of my service." On 22nd March, 1802,^ he says, in reference to his calling, " In this divine husbandry I am a wonder to myself and a wonder to many. That I who was always seeking rest and finding none, disappointed in everything and yet trying new things, should at last meet with the Centre in whom all my wishes terminated and in whom I found more than all ! I have never sought either rest or refuge, feasting or fulness, elsewhere since. I give attendance four times a week, and those who feel the plague of their heart or who want anything in my way generally apply." ^ This was at the chapel, and yet the author of The Voice of Years, a work published in 18 14, complains of Huntington's " inaccessibility." It is true that persons who called on him at Cricklewood, where he disliked being disturbed, particularly if they called at a time when — to use his own expression — there was " a difficulty in distinguishing the Doctor from the devil,""* met ^ Gospel Advocate, 1869, p. 200. 2 Also to Mr. Willows. ^ In P. L., 2, p. 251, he refers to his hearers and correspondents as his " 3,000 masters and mistresses " * See P. L., 4, p. 344. Letter of 4th Aug., 1812. ^ is V o n « v> 2 •a 00 en z u o o O ^ H tj •a 2h O c <: d u in c n z h X r-' CO *j £ J I^.* HUNTINGTON THE MAGNIFICENT. 179 with a disagreeable reception. Among these un- fortunates was a certain William Treble, against whom Huntington, for some reason, conceived an antipathy at first sight. When Treble entered, Huntington, fixing his eyes steadfastly on the intruder, asked abruptly, ** What do you want?" "I want," said Treble, "to be a member of your church." " What trade are you ? " " A shoemaker." " A journeyman shoemaker ? " " Yes, sir." " A pretty man," said Huntington, " to be a member of a church. Here to-day and gone to- morrow! Go about your business." Another " pious man " who called met with an equally rough reception. On his being introduced, Huntington, who prided himself on his skill at character reading, fixed his eyes steadily on him, and then enquired, "Where have you been used to attend ? " " On Mr. Wills's' ministry, sir," said the visitor. "Wills!" said Huntington, "why the man is not converted himself ; how should he convert others ? Get ye gone.""* Perhaps there were circumstances attending these interviews that have not come down to us, but in any case, Huntington's treatment of these men admits of no defence ; nor would he himself * Rev. Thomas Wills, Lady Huntingdon's chaplain. * These two anecdotes are from the New Evangelical Magazine, vol. i, p. 1815. i8o LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. on reflection have defended it. As we shall see by subsequent anecdotes, it was a common habit with him to treat persons roughly on introduction, but when he found anything of sterling worth in his interlocutor he rapidly mellowed. One day a fellow with something wild and strange in his words called, and Huntington, contrary to Bryan's advice, granted an interview. When the man entered Huntington, in " a voice enough to strike the dying dead," said, " What do you want with me ?^^ " I suppose, sir," said the man, " you have heard of such things ? " " What things ? " cried Huntington. " That there are two witnesses spoken of in the Revelation."' " Yes," said Huntington, " and what of that ? " " I am one of them." Up jumped Huntington from his chair. '* I have already to-day had two such wretches as you come to plague me," he exclaimed indignantly; "get out of my house directly." Another man came all the way from Salisbury for the purpose of an interview, and Huntington, on learning that he was poor offered him two guineas, but observed, " You must have a better religion than you now have, or you will never enter the kingdom of heaven." One day, after some woman, who had troubled him with a trivial ques- 1 Rev. xi. 3. HUNTINGTON THE MAGNIFICENT. i8i tion suggested by a text, had been dismissed, Bryan announced another woman. " Have her up," snapped Huntington, and when the person entered he said, "I've been bothered with one trifler and her text appUed, I suppose you have some passage, too." " Yes," replied the woman, *' I have, for as I came upstairs I felt these words, * Cease ye from man, whose breath is in his nostrils, for wherein is he to be accounted of ? ' Good morning, sir," and she turned to go. " Here, come back," said Hunt- ington. " You'll do." Once he repulsed a male caller with, " I suppose you want a lazy, easy life by becoming religious? " " Ah," replied the caller, " if by God's grace the world, the flesh, and the devil are against us, they will not allow us much ease." " There," said Huntington, " sit down." Having intruded on Huntington bearish, let us next view Huntington gentle. One day' when he was seated in his study with the Rev. Samuel Turner,^ of Sunderland, a Mr. Thomas Weller called. " I told him," says Weller, " I wished to have some conversation with him respecting my eternal state, and began to speak of my present feelings. He answered me not a word for some time. At last he broke silence by enquiring how I found these things out, which gave me an oppor- 1 In 1809. * One of the ministers sent out by Huntington. He was pastor of the Corn Market Chapel, Sunderland. Many of his letters have been pub- lished. One series was called A Mite for the Treasury, another A Second Mite. He also published sermons on the deaths of Thomas Hooper and Thomas Owram. He died loth May, 1854, aged 76. i82 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. tunity of beginning where the Lord began with me. I went on for some time till I came to the place where I was tempted to put an end to my life, when the tears came in his eyes, and he said, ' You may S2iy, preserved in Christ Jesus and called. It is God's work, my friend, and He will carry it on.' His confidence was too strong for me. I told him I should feel more satisfied if it had been under the use of means. He replied, ' The Lord is a sove- reign ; He neither convinced me of sin nor brought me into the liberty of the gospel by the use of means. He sometimes works by means to show us that we should not despise them, and sometimes without to show us that He is not beholden to them.' When we parted he said, ' God bless you, my friend. I shall see you again.' '" ** Never," says William Stevens, recalling his first interview with Huntington, " never can I forget the kind and encouraging manner in which he spoke to me, nor the aboundings of faith and hope I felt from his spiritual conversation. He remarked, ' I am very near the Lord to-day,' and speaking of Jesus, he said, ' His name is as ointment poured forth.' " Among those who at an early age came under Huntington's influence was Thomas Oxenham, known in the business world as the patentee of an improved mangle. He had been one of the listeners during that contest at Acton between Huntington's * Gospel Standard, ist Mar. 1859. HUNTINGTON THE MAGNIFICENT. 183 lungs and the church bells,' and one day at a meeting he was himself unexpectedly called upon to preach. So he rose, and in the " splendour of a blue coat, gilt buttons, white Marseilles waistcoat, nankeen breeches, white stockings, and his hair tied in a que," he preached his first sermon, which was followed by many others. One day Huntington sent a note inviting him to come and take tea with him. " I am in for a scolding," thought Thomas. However he went. " Take a chair and sit down," said Huntington, " How's your father ? "* A reply having been made, Huntington said, " Thomas, I understand you have for some time been preaching at various places." " It's coming now," thought Thomas, who, however, replied simply, " I have." " I should like," continued Huntington, " to hear a little more particularly the Lord's dealings with you, and how it was you first began to speak." This being said in a friendly way, the young man opened his heart and told his story. When he had done Huntington took him by the hand and said, " Thomas, we shall spend an eternity together," and wept. The other wept also, and just before they parted Huntington said, " You must preach for me at Monkwell Street meeting on Tuesday next, I am going into the country." Thomas, taken aback, pleaded his youth, but Huntington would not be denied. " I shall provide no other," he 1 Ch. ix. 46, p. 114. ' Whom Huntington had known at Thames Ditton. i84 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. said, " and if you go not, your conscience will flog you severely." He obeyed, and it was with beating heart that he, a raw youth, faced the huge congre- gation there assembled. However, all went well, and he subsequently preached regularly in a chapel at Deptford,' which had been opened by Hunting- ton, and also at Welwyn, in Herts."^ Another caller was John Warburton, at that time a poor Baptist minister, but afterwards one of the most successful preachers in his denomina- tion. Huntington, being in a churlish mood, received the young man with coolness, then turning suddenly on him, he said, " What dost thou know of the love of God ?" The reply, whatever it was, stamped Warburton as a man after Huntington's own heart. Tears filled the eyes of both men, and after a long conversation, Huntington, having scraped up all the silver he had in a table drawer, gave it to Warburton for his family, heartily shook his hand, and bade him farewell. To Sarah Paley, who called in the company of a friend, Huntington, after hearing her story, said, " God has set your secret sins in the light of His countenance." "He prayed to the Lord with me," adds this good woman, " and it was a very sweet prayer."^ 1 Built in 1805. Huntington generally preached there on Good Fridays, Oxenham once a month. In 1807 the Rev. Thomas Burgess became its stated minister. ^ See The Riches of Free Grace, 1820, by Thomas Oxenham. Oxenham died 3rd August, 1848, aged 84. *" The Autobiography of a Huntingtonian." The Gospel Advocate, 1869, pp. 229 and 263. HUNTINGTON THE MAGNIFICENT. 185 Another who benefited under Huntington's ministry, though without his knowledge, was a woman of the town, and on her deathbed she sent for him. Huntington, who, as we have seen, was subject to fits of ill-temper, disliked the errand. Moreover he was haunted by the fear of a trap, the fear that under the colour of securing his ser- vices she meditated mischief. However, he went, and on entering her room he said in a stern voice, " Well, woman, what do you want with me ? " She replied, " I don't wsmt you; I want your Master." " Then," said Huntington, his feelings utterly subdued, " as the Lord liveth you shall have Him." Another deathbed speech relative to Huntington was that made by a Mrs. Bird,' who had been one of his hearers. " Would you like to see Mr. Huntington ? " en- quired an attendant. " Yes," said the dying woman, " I should like to see him, but I can go now without crutches." Among those who were prejudiced against Hunt- ington was Thomas Burgess, afterwards minister at Deptford. " I had heard many evil reports of that great man of God," says Burgess, " and I thought he was a very awful character. However, I went to hear him. He preached from Rom. viii. 2, and was led most sweetly. He set forth all my experience, from first to last, and my soul has been in union with him from that day to this." ^ See also G. V., p. 479. Her maiden name was Ann Snowdon. i86 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. The experience of the Rev. James Bourne/ after- wards a distinguished minister, was a similar one. His eyes had first been opened by the perusal of one of Huntington's works, The Barber. " This," said he, " led me to hear more attentively the author of the book. It made religion of importance to me, and I could no longer be a trifling professor."* That Huntington was the greatest preacher of his day is indubitable. His one serious ^^tonas^a^' "val, Rowland Hill, was far less Yemp'iat?ons effective in the pulpit, and certainly on the God jggg popular. Still it is as a writer that Huntington has obtained most fame, has effected most good. His works may be divided into four groups : — 1. His masterpieces : The Bank of Faith, The Kingdom of Heaven Taken by Prayer, and Contempla- tions on the God of Israel. 2. His controversial works. 3. His Letters pure and simple.^ 4. Miscellaneous works. Of the value of The Bank of Faith and The Kingdom of Heaven Taken by Prayer I have already spoken. While these are auto-biographical, the third of his great works, Contemplations on the God 1 In Facts and Letters , p. 81, is a letter from Huntington to Bourne, dated 13th May, 1807. ' Life and Letters of the late James Bourne, published in 1861. * I use this term because The Bank of Faith, Part 2, Contemplations on the God of Israel, and other works are epistolary in form. HUNTINGTON THE MAGNIFICENT. 187 of Israel^ a series of letters addressed to the Rev. J. Jenkins on the subject of the Holy Spirit, is doctrinal and exegetic. Its abiding charm is attributable to the spirit of love — love to God and love to mortals — with which it is permeated. Of its fine passages two especially rivet the attention. The first carries us, dizzied and awe-stricken, back- ward to the time when the earth was waste and void, and into the presence of the Stupendous Three seated in august conclave. *' In the secret councils of old, and in the decree of election, and in the covenant of grace which was made from everlasting, They were jointly concerned : there was the Father choosing, the Son in whom the choice was made undertaking to save, and the Spirit to sanctify and make obedient the objects chosen."' The second'' hurries us, breathless and ecstasied, forward, pushes us beyond the veil, and reveals to our unhooded eyes the sweet sight of our Lord and Saviour, "the ultimate end of hope," and patriarch, 3 apostle, and martyr gathered in glory. Important, too, are the passages that follow on the subjects of Faith and our Future Inheritance. Good old William Stevens, calling from his grave, bids us " well weigh and study prayerfully " "^ this remarkable work. " In writing it," said Hunting- 1 Ben. Vol. 19, p. 164. * Ben. Vol. 19, p. 340. * The reference to Noah is peculiarly striking : " Noah, the second stock, the first ship-builder and navigator, who went a twelve months' voyage in a sea without a shore." *■ Recollections of the Late William Huntington. i88 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. ton, " I had more assistance from the Holy Spirit than in writing any other book." Huntington was a born fighter. " If," he once beautifully said, " we think truth is 66. ContPO- versiai Works, not worth Contending for, we may Rowland Hill. i /-. • • i tt- ^ expect the bpirit to clap His wings and take His flight from us." Nevertheless, I shall devote little space to the consideration of Hunting- ton's controversial works, and for two reasons. In the first place, although few men have proved themselves abler or more courageous disputants, he marred almost everything of his that falls under that category by a hectoring and rancorous manner; and in the second place because, although these works contain fine passages, they are of all his works the least important. I have no wish to excuse his vitriolic vehemence, or the personalities in which he indulged on these occasions ; but I must in fairness notice that he was attacked from pulpit and platform, in book, pamphlet, and news- paper, as perhaps no other man had before or has since been attacked ; and when he found the doctrines of the cross " bestuck with slanderous darts," his indignation got the better of his dis- cretion. His enemies were unscrupulous beyond imagina- tion. Writing on i6th March, 1802, he says: " There is a most infamous and blasphemous book come out against me by a company of men at Woolwich, and handbills are carried from chapel HUNTINGTON THE MAGNIFICENT. 189 to chapel, so that I am [constantly] in the storm, which must beat down on the head of poor Jonah as long as he is suffered to dwell in the booth.'" Abusive letters (and in those days the receiver paid postage) came to him in shoals. " I have had few letters lately," he says, "but what breathe reproach, scandal, falsehood, and blasphemy, without either name or number of abode, which has made me almost as sick of opening them as of paying postage for them."^ Among those with whom he grappled — and it must be admitted that he often argued on matters best let alone — were the Rev. Thomas Pentycross, Rector of St. Mary's, Wallingford^ (a very good man, though of the weathercock order) ; the Rev. Mr. Cottingham ;* the Rev. Timothy Priest- ley (brother of Dr. Priestley) ;5 the Rev. Rowland Hill f the Rev. William Vessey, of Chatham ? Mr. Joseph Bramah;^ the Rev. E. Winchester ;5 Richard Brothers;'" the Rev. Joseph Britton;" and the Rev. Vigors McCulla." To Dr. Priestley he was per- sistently and particularly antagonistic. *' I do insist * To Miss Elizabeth Blaker. ^Gospel Standard, 1848, p. 247. ^ 1786. Ben. Vol. 4, p. 287. Tidings from Wallingford. See also Evangelical Magazine, Dec.. 1808. * 1787. Ben. Vol. 4, p. 329. (The Modern Plasterer Detected.) * 1791. Ben. Vol. 10. ^ 1792. Ben. Vol. 11. ^ 1793. Ben. Vol. 12. * i793- Ben. Vol. 12. '1794. Ben. Vol. 12. (Advocates for Devils Refuted.) 1° The Lying Prophet Examined. Ben. Vol. 17. " 1800. Ben. Vol. 19, p. 3S9. '^ 1806. Coalheaver's Comments on Zion's Traveller. "fif 190 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. upon it," he says, "that Dr. Priestley has perverted almost, if not altogether, every essential truth in the Bible;"' but the best remembered of his battles royal was that with the Rev. Rowland Hill, who had called him an Antinomian (which led Huntington to speak jocularly of Hill as his "god- father"), a spiritual monkey, and a spiritual black- guard ;f but in the tussle that followed he came off, like Huntington's other opponents, only second best. An Antinomian, be it observed, is one who holds the opinion that Christians are freed from obligation to keep the law of God. He is supposed to say to himself, " I am one of the elect. I am saved. Do what I will, saved I shall be. I may therefore indulge in what sins I please." It need scarcely be said that Huntington held no such views. To the charge of Antinomianism brought against him no better answer can be given than his own. Facing his enemies he says,^ "You charge me with sophistry, cunning, and Antino- mianism, when you cannot overthrow one truth that I preach, nor bring any just charge against my life or walk, unless you look for perfection in the flesh, to which I never expect to attain." One of the best testimonies indeed to the purity of his life is the fact that, although he was surrounded with implacable enemies who were perpetually prying with a view to bringing accusations against * Ben. Vol. 6, p. 135. ' See Ben. Vol. 20, p. 275. » The Modem Plasterer Detected. (Rev. Mr. Cottingham.) n 13 > m (/) n w H <5 1—3 " ►JET^K.s- '5 Et^ 5 :;• Sir"" = -s •a o 5.tfl E'^ o 3 ^ SLa- „ ^ (B ^ „ ^ o 2 ■« 2 :: 2. D.? ° (t >r < O Y'n n ~ o-^2.5,--3 - 2- _0 n-> b; :;.— (II "■ o 3 Of--- 0) .-."><• i§ ^<:^ ^2. C ?3 > Z s-s- K HUNTINGTON THE MAGNIFICENT. 191 him ; who seized every opportunity to hold him up to public odium ; on no single occasion was he ever reproached with loose living.' It was reserved for the ignorant, the prejudiced, the mendacious, and the prurient of later generations to bring against him that charge. Huntington's position in a nutshell is, We are saved not by observing the law but by free grace. Repentance is not of the will of man, nor of the will of the flesh, but of God.* Man is drawn to repentance not by a sense of sin, but by a sense of pardon. 3 In The Law Established by Faith* a sermon delivered on ist January, 1786, he says, "The ten commandments, exclusive of other parts of Scripture, are not a sufficient rule for the real believer's life, walk, and conversation. And that the will of God, which is the only rule, is not wholly revealed in the Decalogue is plain, for if it had, there would have been no more of it revealed in another dispensation. For if that first covenant 1 Except, of course, by that chaste periodical, The Satirist. Of the attitude of the writers in this periodical towards Huntington (and also towards the followers of Whitefield and Wesley), none but those who have consulted its pages can form any idea. Everything he did was ridiculed, everything he said saddled with an obscene meaning, but they would have found obscenity in the Lord's Prayer and cant in the Twenty- third Psalm. And yet to do the unmitigated scoundrels justice, there was real humour in some of their sallies. Thus, in an article on Petronius, after referring to the deeds of the rascally priests of the Syrian goddess, The Satirist observes, "Why should we recur to foreigners, while we are still blessed with the Rev. W. HUNT-ington ? Let us love our own country pippin ! " ' Ben. Vol. 11, p. 219. * See Ben. Vol. 11, p. 220. " Is Mary an Arminian ? Does her salva- tion depend upon the withered arm of her own power ? " P. L. Vol. 3, p. 297. * Ben. Vol. 3, p. 394. 192 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. had been faultless, then no place would have been sought for the second." Huntington's principles are also stated very plainly in The Modern Plasterer Detected,"^ and very poetically in Light Shining in Darkness. " The chain of harmonious truths," he says in the latter, " and the golden links of Divine graces, are the only things which adorn the Lord's Spouse ; and with these His heart is ravished and charmed.'"* The Pompey and Caesar of the religious eight- eenth century had at one time been on amicable terms ; and Hill, who was in need of money for some cherished institution, once induced a friend of Huntington's to go with him among Huntington's hearers, with a view to making a collection for it. They obtained a hundred guineas, and Hill then subscribed for a copy of The Arminian Skeleton. Having read it, though certainly he could not have read it carefully, he formed the opinion that it amounted to a defence of Antinomianism. A little later Huntington's friend called on Hill and asked what he thought of the book. Having rung for his footman, Hill took up the book with the tongs and bade him "Put it on the kitchen fire." "But first of all," he added, " watch that man down stairs lest he should steal the silver or anything else he can lay hands on, for his master does not hold the Law to be a rule of life."^ Thenceforward 1 Ben. Vol. 4. 2 Ben. Vol. 16, p. 192. ' See Facts, Letters, p. 46. Q 3J= oc J a-g o U i„ ° 00 ^-° *"■ fc i) E ^ O 2 = z H ::!, H £.21. ■J-. J C ^-t tn 3 c o '"' W H 00 Oh < 5-C-t; C/5 2h d, CJ III H o Q 0!-i < 4> O Cfi O c o e-- m THE 111 - ID Z " * 2 ^ CO '"' u 0) ; o O «t/3:5 1 « z Ss'oJS fe 5 , 5 < w •S o — H rv^ <- •- c K MH °ia < ^i5 5) 'J z o H u - o o -C~ 0) z ='3iS ^H j: ^^ o H ^^ P. z ID K -5 " 2f (-1- HUNTINGTON THE MAGNIFICENT. 193 Hill constituted himself one of Huntington's most implacable enemies, and attacked him on every possible occasion. " My venerable and most pious godfather," observes Huntington (4th September, 1800),' " has cleaved to me with full purpose of heart, and I question whether he has ever lost sight of me in any one sermon preached by him during the last twenty-six years." Huntington answered Hill in a sermon preached in 1792, and afterwards published as The Moral Law not injured by the Everlasting Gospel.^ " Even an unconverted man," Hill had said, " can keep himself from certain sins — murder, for example." " To make men their own keepers is a poor doctrine," said Huntington. " They are better kept whom God keepeth."^ " A man may pay his tithes, go to his church, and pay his debts or not, just as he pleases," said Hill. " He is a free agent." " I object to these assertions," said Huntington. " Providence must have a hand in all this. A man cannot pay tithes unless God gives him crops and a good market. If he pays his debts God's provi- dence must favour him." After well castigating his ' godfather,' Huntington continues, " Should you at any future period happen to come out of ' To Morris. P. L. Vol. i, p. 144. ' Ben. Vol. 11, p. 203. 3 Huntington's position may be illustrated by the remark of Samuel Rutherford, made when he saw a murderer being conducted to the scaffold : " There, but for the grace of God, goes Samuel Rutherford." 194 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. any street or lane, and unexpectedly clap your eyes upon me, as you once did by St. Paul's Church, do not leap up and run from me at that distracted rate you then did. Never fly, sir, unless you are pursued ; " and he concludes with the pious hope that in future Hill will display less heat and more holiness, perform more good works and say less about them, part with his old wives fables for gospel doctrines, and sound his own trumpet less and the gospel trumpet more.' Let us hope he did. We now come to the consideration of Hunting- ton as a letter-writer, and without the tJn's^LrtteS. shadow of a doubt he is the greatest religious letter-writer that England has produced, just as Cowper is of all letter- writers the greatest. The difference between Huntington and Cowper is that while Cowper had a hundred themes, Huntington had, roughly speaking, only one. Cowper was a man of education and polish, he wrote perfect English, he touched nothing with- out succeeding in making it interesting. We know the characters in his letters as we know our next door neighbours.^ He is the most delicate of our humorists. The only education Huntington had was what he himself picked up after he had arrived at manhood. To the very last he spelt 1 Ben. Vol. 2, p. 226. Huntington also amusingly banters Hill in Every Divine Law. (Ben. Vol. 20, p. 275.) ^ We shall be able to say the same of the characters in Huntington's letters when these letters come to be printed in their entirety. HUNTINGTON THE MAGNIFICENT. 195 badly, and in grammar he was not perfect. But he too was a gentleman in his way — one of nature's gentlemen ; and few who met the dignified and urbane pastor of Providence Chapel would have recognised the Thames-side coalheaver. If it was an achievement in Cowper to make interesting every subject he touched, it was also an achieve- ment in Huntington to keep touching only one subject, and yet to make it constantly interesting as well as instructive. " Taken as a whole," says the Rev. J. C. Philpot, "his letters contain the very cream of vital godliness ; and being struck off, as one may say, at a white heat according to his various feelings at the time, there is a freedom and a warmth about them, a reality and a power, which much commends itself to one's conscience.'" After describing those letters as the most edifying and instructive of Huntington's writings, Mr. Philpot continues, " It is true they have not the grandeur of Contemplations on the God of Israel,"^ or the details of personal experience as in The King- dom of Heaven; but there is a freedom in them, an entering into many minutiae of the divine life, and a drawing forth many sweet draughts from the deep well of his own gracious leadings and teach- ings, which makes them singularly instructive and edifying. The kindness, tenderness, wisdom, knowledge of his own heart, of the devices of 1 Letters of Rev. J. C. Philpot, p. 409. « Ben. Vol. 19. ije LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. Satan, of the consolations of the Spirit, of the Word of God, and of the whole length and breadth of Christian experience displayed in them is truly wonderful.'" The Rev. A. J. Baxter used to say that no man's work had been more blessed to him than Huntington's letters. Of those already published, some 1,200 are letters pure and simple, the rest being portions of books written in the epistolary style."* Thus, Epistles of Faith, Living Testimonies, and Contemplations on the God of Israel^ not to mention a number of minor works, are epistolary in form. The letters pure and simple are to be found chiefly in two collections, namely. Gleanings of the Vintage^ and Posthumous Letters,'^ both of which were issued after Hunting- ton's death. A number of letters are scattered up and down the pages of magazines, and many have never been published. Moreover, many of the published letters are imperfect.^ The letters in Posthumous Letters and Gleanings of the Vintage 1 Letters of Rev. J. C. Philpot, p. 97. ^ Although many of these, too, passed through the post. * Gleanings of the Vintage. The first edition, issued in 1813 by Ebenezer Huntington, consisted of nine parts, and contained 322 letters. It was re-published in 1897 by Frederick Kirby. In 1821 Ebenezer Huntington arranged for the publication of his father's works in six volumes, but owing to his death the work did not appear till 1837, when it was issued by John Bennett, vol. 5 being devoted to Gleanings of the Vintage. The letters are re-arranged, and there are 20 (not" nearly 50," as a note in the front declares) additional letters — bringing the number up to 242. In 1856 the six volumes were re-issued by W. H. Collingridge, with new title-pages and a preface by Dr. Doudney. * Posthumous Letters. Under this odd title, Thomas Bensley, in 1815, published, at Lady Sanderson's request, an edition of Huntington's letters in three volumes ; a fourth, more luxuriantly printed and bound, was added in 1822. The four volumes contain in all 735 letters. Some of them appear, slightly garbled, in Gleanings of the Vintage. ^ See also remarks in our Preface. HUNTINGTON THE MAGNIFICENT. 197 are unfortunately not in chronological order, hundreds are undated, and in few cases is the name of the receiver given. " On comparing the printed ones with our originals," says Mr. Ebenezer Hooper, "we notice that the corrections in Mr. Bensley's handwriting are chiefly in the spelling, and that there are few other alterations or omis- sions. They are almost entirely spiritual ; he wrote for the edification of his friends, and through them for thousands afterwards. They are beauti- ful compositions, of easy, powerful expression, and on a believer's experience unsurpassed." Hunt- ington's letters certainly deserve all the praise Mr. Hooper has bestowed upon them. They have a perfume, a bouquet, a nobility entirely their own, and there is hardly one without some cheering and helpful passage. Above all, Huntington, as be- hoves a profound student of the Bible, speaks with no uncertain voice. While reading his pages one hears again and again the great trumpet sound, **We shall never die." As regards Gleanings of the Vintage and Posthumous Letters, his principal correspondents, and the number of letters written to them, were : — " Gleanings of the Vintage." Baker family (James and Peg), 20 (pp. 61 and no — 131). Berry, Samuel, perfumer, 7 (pp. 215 — 221). Blaker family (Mr. and Mrs. William Blaker, their son John, and their daughters, Mary and Elizabeth), 90 (pp. 266 — 418). Coldham, W., of Ratcliff Highway, 3 (pp. 98 — 102). Davidson family (James and Ann), of 7 Postern Row, Tower Hill, 30 (pp. 65—96). 1^8 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. Everest, Elizabeth, of Sevenoaks, 4 (pp. 36 — 41). Jenkins, Rev. J., 5 (pp. 249—258). Lansdell family, of Spelmonden, Lamberhurst, Kent (George and his wife, " Old Sarah"), 61 (pp. 423 — 501). Matthews, Mrs. (" now Mrs. Berry"), g (pp. 221 — 238). Taylor family, of Rhode Farm, Biggleswade, Beds. (Mr. Taylor and his daughters, Elizabeth and Ann), 43 (pp. 143— 191). Turner, Rev. Samuel, of Sunderland, 4 (pp. 239-^243). Wayte family (Mr. Wayte and his wife Naomi, who was Huntington's daughter), 5 (pp. 107 — 109). Wehb, Samuel, 6 (pp. 15 — 27). " Posthumous Letters." Baker family, 16 (vol. i, pp. 82 — 113). Barston family (Thomas Barston, his wife, "Old Sarah," his sisters Elizabeth and Fanny, and his brother James), 34 (vol. i, pp. 261—350). Beeman, Rev. Isaac, 30 (vol. 3, pp. 132 — 158, 211 — 216 ; vol. 4, pp. 398—451). Bensley, Thomas, 8 (vol. i, pp. 62 — 80). Birch, Mrs., 4 (vol. 3, pp. 26 — 36). Butler family (Dr. John and Mrs. Butler), of Woolwich, 9 (vol. 2, pp. 3—20). Chamberlain, Rev. Joseph, 11 (vol. i, pp. 382 — 416). Clarke, of Uxbridge (Bensley's father-in-law), 9 (vol. i, pp. 41—61). Duncan, Mrs., 8 (vol. i, pp. 429 — 449, and vol. 2, p. 85). (Wife of a sea captain. She had been " wrought upon " by Huntington's books when she was at sea with her husband.) Hooper, Mr. and Mrs. Cleeve, 25 (vol. 2, pp. 401 — 483). Hooper, Mr. and Mrs. Thomas, 16 (vol. 2, pp. 21 — 67). Lock, Rev. Algar, 3 (vol. 2, pp. 316 — 320). Marchant, Thomas, 32 (vol. 3, pp. 48 — 119). Martin, Mr. and Mrs. Charles, loi (vol. 3, pp. 276 — 479, and vol. 4, p. 289). Martin, Henry, 7 (vol. 4, pp. 49 — 67). Martin, Mrs. William (Rebecca), and her mother, Mrs. Waddelow, 95 (vol. 4. PP- 69—363)- Morris, Joseph, 47 (vol. i, pp. 136 — 249). Morgan, Mr. R., when at Cranbrook, 4 (vol. i, pp. 360 — 370). HUNTINGTON THE MAGNIFICENT. 199 Parr family (Mr. Parr, baker, Throgmorton^Street, and his wife), 33 (vol. 2, pp. 135—187). Sanderson, Lady, 50 (vol. 2, pp. 123 — 134, and pp. 190 — 280). The following works of Huntington contain letters : — Ben. Vol. 3. — Bank of Faith, pt. 2. 12 to Eliz. Blaker. 5. — Epis. of Faith, pt. i. 38 to various. 6. — Epis. of Faith, pt. 2. 39 to various. 13. — Liv. Test., pt. I. 21 to Jenkins. 20 to various. 14. — Liv. Test., pt. 2. 58 to Jenkins. 1 1 to various. 18. — Nocttta Aurita. 24 to Mrs. Hooper. 19. — Contemplations on the God of Israel. 19 to Jenkins. 20. — Joy of Faith. 2 to Eliz. Blaker. Love of Christ. 7 to various.^ Last Fragments of Jenkins. 47 to Jenkins.^ i to Morris. Lamentations of Satan. 14 to various. The originals of those which have come into my hands differ from Mr. Hooper's in that they are by no means entirely on religious subjects. Few, indeed, are without curious and interesting passages relating to his home and his farm. In one, for example, he tells Charles Martin that his " rowen hay " has run short, and he wants to know whether it would hurt the cows or their milk if he were to feed them on potatoes. Many letters have postscripts — all religious in strain — from the pen of Lady Sanderson. Huntington often has to acknowledge the receipt of presents. Now he thanks Mrs. Thomas Butler for a patchwork quilt,^ now Miss Mary Blaker for a bed.* Some- 1 All included in Epistles of Faith, pt. 2. ^ 42 in Living Testimonies, pt. 2. 8 Facts. Letters, p. 28. * G. V., p. 341. 200 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. times his letters failed to reach their destination. Writing to the Martins, 29th January, 1806, he says, " I laid the matter of my letters being missed before the Secretary of the Post Office, and he wrote to the man at the Lamb [Ely]. The man replied that Downham was three miles off, and that Charles never came to his house, which I was glad to hear.'" Of the best of his letters — those to the Bakers — we have already spoken. He rarely wrote with- out sending his correspondent some word of encouragement. "Becky," says one (i8th August, 1802), "go on, for there is nothing that can stand before us if we make the Lord our trust, our con- fidence and refuge."* " Be much in prayer," he says in another ; ** it is the only way in which I settle my accounts, and close up all breaches."^ One anxious enquirer feared she had committed " the unpardonable sin." " The unpardonable sin, my dear friend," writes Huntington, " can never be committed but by real hypocrites ; no soul that has any fear or reverence of God . . . no soul that ever loved Christ's name ... no contrite soul . . . ever committed that sin.""* Sometimes a vein of humour lightens up a letter, as in the following to Mrs. Charles Martin,^ 1 Unpublished part of letter, of which a portion appears in P. L., Vol. 3, P- 397- * P. L. 4, p. 157. To Rebecca Martin. 8 P. L. 4, p. 162. See also ch. 15, § 76. * P. L. 3. p. 337. * P. L. 4, p. 232 (2nd April, 1805). HUNTINGTON THE MAGNIFICENT. 201 " I received my dear friend's epistle, and perceive she is uneasy because she is at ease, troubled because she has no trouble, and disquieted because she is quiet. We must have a daily cross of some sort or other, and this seems to be hers ; " and he thus drolly invites Mrs. Lansdell to Cricklewood. " You must give my love to Sarah, and tell her I expect her this Christmas, for I am one of that sort which creep into houses and lead captive silly women laden with sins, and I have a great desire to make a captive of old Sarah, if you can trust her out of your sight, and in the hands of such a snare as W. H., S.S.'" At times how powerful and picturesque his language ! Writing to the Rev. James Skinner, of Cranbrook,' he says, " After the expulsion from Paradise, Adam stood with all the human race, elect and reprobate, in his loins." How magnifi- cent is the passage (in the same letter) in which, looking forward with prophetic eye, he pictures the events of the day of Judgment ! " Then," he says, *' shall the elect, gathered from all winds, shine forth as the sun. They shall blaze in elect- ing love, exult in divine joys, shine in everlasting light, solace in endless pleasure, and hymn par- ticular redemption, till self-existing divinity fail, and eternity find a period." What a sweep of language ! ' From letter of 19th December, 1804, we learn that both George and Sarah decided to pay a visit to Cricklewood. They arrived on the 21st. ' Ben. Vol. 7, p. 393. (Free Thoughts in Captivity.) 202 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. None excelled him on the subject of affliction. " Of this be assured," he writes to a friend who had been in the depths, " every cross, trial and trouble is appointed by lot, and dealt out by measure ; and we shall have no more than our appointed share.'" " Afflictions," he says else- where, " are moreover of use ; they show us the need of grace, and keep us watchful and obser- vant."^ "Troubles," he tells Mr. Parr,^ "put energy into prayer, and fill the heart with fervour." To another correspondent, who seems to have wished for a different lot, he wrote, " This will not do, Nancy ; you must not chalk out lines for the Lord to work and walk by."'^ " God's presence, and a comfortable frame under it," he tells Joseph Morris, " cast a lustre upon the whole creation ; while a gloomy and a dismal one will begloom and stain it, and make the rays of the sun as black as sackcloth of hair."^ To Charles Martin he writes, 24th January, 1810,^ " Out of the quarry of nature all the materials that constitute and complete the Church are dug. These rough, hard, and unpolished stones must be separated, squared, jointed, and fitted to become living stones, laid on the Elect and Sure Foundation, which bears the weight, the burden, 1 p. L. 4. p. 41. a p. L. 2, p. 85. 8 P, L. 2, p. 152. Letter of 2nd July, 1807. Cf. Cowper's "Trials give new life to prayer." * P. L. I, p. 425. 5 P. L. I, p. 234. 6 Miss Cooke's Collection, No. 114. Unpublished. HUNTINGTON THE MAGNIFICENT. 203 and the glory of the whole building. And He is the Corner-stone, the first in the angle which unites elect angels and men, Jew and Gentile, antediluvian and postdiluvian saint ; glorified souls above and godly souls below; God the Father and God's children altogether." Some of the letters are in rhyme, as, for example, that of July, 1785, to the Rev. John Cooke, of Maidenhead. Though Huntington wrote so cheerily to others, he was himself often low- spirited. Thus, in an unpublished letter of 5th May, 1 80 1, he says, " I have of late myself been under much darkness and confusion — darkness that might be felt, as if one's head was entangled or wrapped up in a woolpack.*" The letters are signed, according to whim, " W. H., S.S.," " The Doctor," " The Antinomian," " Parson Sack," " Q in the Corner," " The Coalheaver." In one he is " The Coal Merchant," and he adds, " You see I rise in the world." Of Huntington's Miscellaneous Works notices will be found in other parts of this book. The principal are The Arminian Skeleton, The Naked Bow of God, The Justification of a Sinner, and The History of Little Faith. As might be expected in the case of one who wrote so much, they are un- equal in value, but all are studded with original and stimulating thoughts. In even the most un- likely product of his pen one may meet with jewels of price. 1 To Miss Elizabeth Blaker. CHAPTER XIV I3TH JULY, 181O 20TH JUNE, 181I PROVIDENCE CHAPEL BURNT DOWN As we have noticed, Providence Chapel was injured by fire in November, 1788, and 63 V\^h6P6 is 1 1 * ' Providence ^^ ^.t least one Other occasion it Juiy'i^s.Tsio. escaped destruction by the same ele- ment only through a miracle.' In 1808, Covent Garden Theatre, and, in 1809, Drury Lane Theatre had been burnt to the ground ; and Huntington, regarding these events as judg- ments of God, publicly returned thanks for them. The time, however, had now come when his beloved chapel was to meet the same fate — to be licked up by fire as if it were of no more con- sequence than those "temples of Satan," the detested playhouses. The event occurred on July 13th, 1 810, in the broad daytime, and it seems to have been caused by sparks from some houses which were burning in a distant street. A nephew of Huntington's, Thomas Young, a carpenter, who was working inside, was the first to notice the flames, which burst from the top of the chapel, and rapidly spread to the galleries. He at once gave an alarm, but without avail, for in a few 1 G. v., p. 476, to George Lansdell. J ,% PROVIDENCE CHAPEL BURNT DOWN. 205 minutes the whole building was alight, and from the roar and crackling, for the place burnt like matchwood, it was evident that nothing could save it. Having procured a horse, Thomas at once posted to Cricklewood, and was ushered, blown, perspiring, and wild with excitement, into the room in which Huntington and Lady Sanderson were seated — appearing more like a maniac than a reasonable human being. Words refusing to come, he sank silent into a chair. "Why, Tom," said Huntington, "what's the matter ? Is your wife dead ? " [Tom had just been married.] " Oh, no, sir ! Wait a bit and I'll tell you." Presently Huntington repeated his enquiry, asking testily, " What is all this about ? " " Oh, sir," said Tom, " your chapel is burnt down to the ground." Huntington sat silent and motionless, but Lady Sanderson jumped up and ran about the room, wringing her hands, and exclaiming hysterically, " Oh dear ! oh dear ! what shall we do ? " " Now do be quiet," said Huntington ; "we are not bankrupt yet, nor our God either." Then turning to Young, he said calmly, "Well, Tom, God gave Ziklag to David, and He took it away by fire. He also gave me Providence Chapel, and has seen fit to take that also away by fire. I must not complain, for it is His doing." 2o6 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. " Dear Peg," he wrote to Mrs. Baker, " Such a stroke as this twenty-seven years ago would have caused our hope to give up the ghost — but being a little stronger in the Lord, faith has heavier burthens laid on. . . . This I know, that it shall work for our good, but how I know not ; if I did, I must walk by sight and not by faith. Bless God, we are not in beggary yet, nor ever shall. I herein enclose you a trifle, as I am going out into the country.'" Writing three weeks later^ to the Rev. Isaac Beeman, he said, " My God has not suffered my mind to be moved, nor one moment's sleep to depart from my eyes on account of the chapel. Numbers have long wished, and expressed their wish, that it might be burnt down, and God has fulfilled their desires. . . . The burning of the chapel was not sufficient ; they lamented aloud because we were not in the place when the fire began.3 The triumph of these will be but for a moment." The chapel was not insured, and the comments made on the occurrence by the proprie- tors of the Covent Garden and Drury Lane theatres are unrecorded. Although Huntington had heard the news with calmness, and had in a measure succeeded in preserving a quiet mind, the blow had been a heavy one to him. For days 1 G. v., p. 131. Referring to his proposed visit to Downham. The Sunday after the fire he preached at Bethlehem Chapel, Richmond, from John xiii. 7, " What I do thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know hereafter." ^ August 9. 8 See also P. L. i, p. 428. PROVIDENCE CHAPEL BURNT DOWN. 207 after it he kept quite alone, with the object of con- cealing his feelings from others, and of enquiring " the meaning of so dark a providence." In the meantime every ruffian, jade, and scoffer in London had been gloating over the event, and exulting over what they supposed to be Hunting- ton's ruin ; while a triumphant mob assembled daily round the smoking debris, and behaved so riotously that the authorities were obliged to go in person and disperse them.' Shrouds, sails, keel, pennant — the whole of the good ship Providence had gone up in flame and smoke. Even that little cabin — that Holy of Holies — in the stern where the captain had spent so many happy hours, and whence he had put up so many earnest prayers, had become nothing but a sacred memory. But the captain was safe, the crew had been spared, and, as Huntington had observed, the Ship-owner was still solvent. " Where is Providence Chapel now ? " enquired a voice in the crowd of sightseers. " I would lay the world if I had it," answered another voice, " that Huntington gets a better chapel and a larger one. You see if he doesn't ! '" In accordance with the intimation sent to Peg Baker, Huntington, accompanied by Lady Sander- son, left as soon as possible for the country, in the hopes of obtaining distraction. For a month he lay » p. L. i . 241. 'PL. vol. 4, p. 337. 2o8 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. perdu at Downham. As he had made no provision for his London followers, it was rumoured that he had deserted them, consequently they scattered themselves among neighbouring places of worship. The elastic, animating air of the country, however, soon put new life and vigour into him, and he returned to town on August 13th full of new and elaborate schemes. Immediately after his arrival he wrote to the Martins,' *' As my dear friends may wish to know how we got home, I thought I would drop them a few lines. We baited and breakfasted at Newmarket, but had but a very rough road thither. The next stage we were met by a violent shower which lasted hard upon two hours. We dined and baited at Great Chesterford,'' at the Crown Inn. We drank tea at Stanstead, and supped and slept at Harlow, about twenty-three miles from London. We baited next morning at Snaresbrook and dined at home. Various outcries had been raised against the poor Doctor during his absence. The chapel burnt, and he fled, and we left to bear the reproach ; that he was going into the country for good and all, and would return no more." Overjoyed to learn that these their fears were groundless and illusory, Huntington's people promptly hired for him^ the chapel in Grub Street, * Letter apparently unpublished. Lent me by Miss H. E. Cooke. Dated 14 Aug., 1810. ^ In Essex. Close to Cambridgeshire. • On 9th Aug., 1810. GOLD MEDAL ISSUED WHEN THE FOUNDATION STONE OF THE NEW CHAPEL WAS LAID. prom Photos supplied by the Rev. A. H. Scott- yyhite, of Batheaston, Bath. PROVIDENCE CHAPEL BURNT DOWN. 209 and on the following Sunday morning, though the news had had so short a time to circulate, two thousand persons crowded into it, and hundreds were turned away. As Huntington and Lady Sanderson rode in their carriage to chapel they saw several of his people passing on towards the City, and the sight of them deeply affected him. " When I came to go to the pulpit," he says, " and saw them so throng about me that I could hardly pass them, my bowels yearned and I had difficult work, when I began my prayer, to keep from burst- ing out, but it soon went off, and I got through with some degree of zeal and boldness. This was the first time they heard me since the fire, and their wistful looks, their glee, and the sympathy of their countenances put me to the test. I longed for Joseph's weeping apartment, for I had hard work to refrain and conceal. But I swallowed and shunned every pathetic expression, and by breaking out into a fiery zeal I soared above it. I admire the lamb in the closet, but the lion best becomes the pulpit."' Sunday after Sunday he preached at Grub Street, but the chapel was detestable to him, chiefly on account of the hubbub arising from the traders in the adjoining Fore Street. Once in the middle of a sermon he paused, and then exclaimed angrily, ** A man might almost as well try to preach in the belly of hell as in all this uproar and confusion." 1 G. V. p. 476. p #■*■ 2IO LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. It was not long before the congregation entered upon the resolve to erect a new chapel. Providence As early as the end of August he was Chapel, -^ . ^ Grays Inn able to write, " We are all in motion : some looking out for a spot of ground, some bringing their offerings, others wishing the glory of the latter house may exceed the glory of the former." Two months, however, were wasted in argument, and it was close upon November before they arrived at a decision. Writing on 1st November, Huntington, in an unpublished letter, says, " Four men undertook to see to the building, and those of the west end of the town hindered them with all their power, each wanting it built near his own house, till at last these men declined having anything more to do with it. I was at last screwed up to the highest pitch. Here I am attending strife and debate, while many in the country long for the gospel of peace. I therefore sent them word to look out no longer for ground, and to send the money back to the subscribers. I wrote to Barston' to hire me a house, and resolved to leave town, concluding that Providence had designed me for the North. When the people heard of this on Monday a new committee came to me, and they said they would do anything rather than be deprived of my services. They are unani- mous and diligent, and God seems to prosper the work of their hands. Ground is taken, the foun- * Thomas Barston, of Grantham. THE NEW PKOVIDEXCE CHAPEL. GRAY'S INN LANE (Grays Inn Road), NOW s. Bartholomew's church. From a Photo by Gordon Smilh, 15 Stroud Green Road, London, A". HERMES HILL HOUSE, PENTONVILLE. Huntington's home from i8ii till his death, 1813. The House, which was formerly surrounded by fields, :s now approached from Risinghill Street. St Silas Church is close lo it. From a Photo by Gordon Smith, 15 Stroud Green Road. London, S. PROVIDENCE CHAPEL BURNT DOWN. 211 dation is digging out. Every Wednesday I sit in the vestry [at Grub Street Chapel] to receive subscriptions, and the people offer willingly." The spot chosen was in Grays Inn Lane,' near the end of Guildford Street — a cow yard"* — and as the soil was low and soft, it was necessary to go deep. The ceremony of laying the foundation stone took place on November 21st, and a hand- some gold medal, bearing on the obverse an eleva- tion of the proposed chapel with the words, "Provi- dence Chapel, November 21st, 1810," and on the reverse a portrait of Huntington and the words, " Rev. W. Huntington, S.S. Chapel, Grays Inn Lane," was issued in commemoration of the occa- sion.3 By December 14th the walls were four feet high ; as the winter proved an unusually mild one the work proceeded rapidly; and by February, when Lady Sanderson's crocuses and snowdrops showed " their gold and silver gaiety,"* the build- ing was far advanced. For many months Huntington had been anxious on account of the failing health of his friend Jenkins. Owing to disease, °Rev.^*^ °^ Jenkins had become unwieldy to a dis- sept"!* Tlio. tressing degree, and when October set in it was seen that his hour was fast approaching. * Now Grays Inn Road. « P. L. Vol. 4. p. 322. ^ One of these medals is in the possession of the Rev. A. H. Scott- White, " Bonita Vista." Batheaston, Bath. * P. L. 2. p. 378. 212 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. For a time doubts and fears clouded his deathbed, but finally they vanished, and in the words of Joseph Morris, who called on him, " his joys were unutterable. He was so filled with a sense of divine love to his soul that he could hardly speak." Huntington had seen him during these last months as often as possible, and many letters passed between him and Lady Sanderson and Jenkins' housekeepers,' all of them breathing a beautiful Christian spirit and warm affection.^ Jenkins died — to Huntington's great grief, for he was the dearest to him of all his friends — ^ist September, 1810, aged 59. At the back of the chapel at Lewes he had some years previous made for himself a vault. It was there he wished to be buried, and Huntington, abandoning the idea of Petersham, nursed the hope of being laid by the side of his friend. As early as 22nd December, 1806, Huntington had written to Joseph Morris, " I have a desire, if God should permit me to die a natural death, to lay my bones near to those of his Excellency^ ; and James and old Peg Baker would like to sleep by me. I have children enow in London to fill the vault at Petersham, who per- haps will not be able to convey themselves further off. I wish, therefore, to know whether a bit of ground can be obtained, and what the expense of such a vault would be. Do, if time will permit, set 1 Ann Jones and Miss Diggens. " See Last Fragments of the Rev. J. Jenkins, pp. 204 — 234. 8 Jenkins. PROVIDENCE CHAPEL BURNT DOWN. 213 some friend to examine and estimate it.' Accord- ingly, the tomb was made. Returning to the sub- ject on gth May, 1807, he says, *' Some time ago Mr. Edward Aldridge"* desired to have part of my tomb at Lewes, to which I consented, as I much respect him. He said he would pay the expense of the erection. I therefore beg you to give him the bill, telling him that I desired it. He has more goldfinches^ than we have, and keeps a breeding- cage, which our families will not suffer us to do."* It was to this tomb — his little bed in the chapel garden, as he called it — that Jenkins' remains were conveyed. A little before his death he had ex- pressed the wish that nothing should be said over him at the vault unless his " good old friend the Doctor should happen to be there, and feel himself inclined to speak." As Huntington was unable to be pre- sent, the remains were interred in silence. Hunt- ington, however, visited Lewes a fortnight later, and on September 23rd preached a funeral sermon^ for his departed friend, taking as his text i Thes. iv. 16, " The Lord Himself shall descend from heaven with a shout." As we have already noticed, it was a most unusual occurrence for him to preach 1 p. L. I, p 197. See also P. L. Vol. i, p. 200. Writing to Hunting- ton, Rev. J. Jenkins says, " Mr. Morris has shown me your letter. The vault is three-width. One-third belongs to Mr. T. Hooper, one-third to Mr. Marchant, and one-third tome." He said there would be no difficulty, and that Huntington could lie by the side of them. Last Frag, of Jenkins, p. 167. ■^ Of Aldersgate Street, timber merchant. ^ Guineas, of course. * P. L. Vol. I, p. 210. * See P. L. 4, p. 124. 214 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. a funeral sermon,' and several times during its delivery, overcome by his feelings, he ejaculated, " I don't like this ! I can't bear it." He con- cluded with an affectionate tribute to the character of his departed friend, observing, " I ever found him from the first of our acquaintance a most hearty and sincere brother, who felt for me, and bore a part of my burdens in every calamity that befel me ; such a true yokefellow in the ministry I never found before, nor do I expect to find the like again." After the sermon he baptised several persons, and among them a poor girl. When the ceremony was over, he asked after her parents. "I have neither father nor mother, sir," she said. " Well, my dear girl," said Huntington, " may God be your Father ; and take this, you will find some need of it," with which he took from his pocket a handful of loose silver. The sermon was afterwards published, together with the correspondence between Jenkins and Huntington, under the title of Last Fragments of the Rev. ]. Jenkins,'' for the benefit of Jenkins's little niece, Winifred.^ Huntington also felt severely the loss of the Princess Amelia (favourite daughter of King George HI.), who had been a regular hearer 1 Only one other preached by him is recorded, that for James Baker. See p. 171. 2 Of the 47 letters of Huntington to Jenkins. 42 are in Ben. Vol. 14 (Liv. Test., Part 2, Nos. 53 to 94). There are 20 from Jenkins to Hunt- ington, and eight from various persons respecting Jenkins's death. 3 P. L. I, p. 233 (4th December, 1810) ; P. L. i, p. 395 (26th February, 181 1). Mr. Jenkins was succeeded by the Rev. John Vinall, who died in i860, aged 78. PROVIDENCE CHAPEL BURNT DOWN. 215 at the old chapel, and who died in November of the same year. I have already told a number of anecdotes respecting Huntington, but there are y, ^^g^,, others worth recording. Once when he dotes. was walking through Maresfield' churchyard, a friend drew his attention to an epitaph on one of the tombstones : " Where I am now you soon must be ; Prepare for death, and follow me." Huntington took out his pencil, and wrote under- neath : " To follow thee, is that the cry ? And not assert the reason why : To follow thee Pm not content, Unless I know which way you went." At one of the country places where he preached he was always saluted on leaving the chapel by a rich man, who vigorously shook his hand and expressed goodwill. Having learnt that this man was not only no supporter of the cause, but an active opponent of gospel teaching, Huntington became fired with indignation, and determined to read him a lesson. So the next time when the hand was offered, Huntington put his own hands behind his back, and, drawing himself up, said sternly, " Sir, what means all this shaking of hands ? You are an enemy to me and to my God.'* It is said that the rebuke led to a change in the person's manner of life. 1 In Sussex. 2i6 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. One day a gentleman left a ten-pound note with Mr. Over, desiring him to hand it to Hunting- ton. "Well," said Huntington on receiving the gift, " how marvellous is the providence of God ! There is poor (naming one of his hearers), just recovered from a fever that has afflicted him and all his family. I was about to give him two pounds, but recollecting it was all the money I had I resolved not to do so ; however, directly I had so thought, these words came to my mind, ' The liberal deviseth liberal things ; and by liberal things shall he stand." Instantly I gave him the money, little thinking that you stood at my elbow with five times the amount which God had sent me."" One evening, as Huntington and Mr. Thomas Bensley were riding together in the country, the vehicle broke down, and Huntington proposed that they should go to a cottage and get some tea while it was being repaired. The poor woman in the cottage, however, said in reply to Huntington's request that she did not think she had tea enough in the house. They told her to make them the best she could. She complied, and on taking leave Huntington put a guinea into her hand. Mr. Bensley, observing it, said, " Mr. Huntington, you are too liberal with your money." " Tom," replied Huntington, *' I never forget the time * Isaiah xxxii. 8, » W. S., Gospel Standard, 1861. PROVIDENCE CHAPEL BURNT DOWN. 217 when I stood in need of such a gift '" — indeed, he could never quite obliterate from his mind that starving runagate, lying those vengeance cold winter days under the Leyton hayrick. The feel- ing used to come over him that he would like to give the world a guinea all round. In May, 1793, it occurred to Huntington to revise and republish his verses, A Spiritual Sea Voyage, and with a view to furnishing himself with a store of knowledge sufficient for the purpose, he journeyed to Chatham* in the company of his friend, Dr. John Butler, of Woolwich, and went over " a new guardship of the first rate " that lay in dock for repair. On regaining the shore Huntington gave the boatman a guinea, instead of the accustomed fare of two shillings. The man stood for some moments staring after him in silence with his mouth wide open. Then, running after Dr. Butler, he said, " Oh, sir, when your friend comes again, do let me know. I should be so happy to wait upon him." "Sir," said Huntington's lawyer to him one day, '* you are aware that Miss Sanderson has a good deal of property, and as she attends your chapel, and there are many young men who might be look- ing after her, would it not be desirable to tie up her money, and settle it upon her in such a way that it could not be touched ? " " Yes," replied ' The Gospel Advocate, 1872, p. 32. * Ben. Vol. i, p. 379. See also Ben. Vol. 20, p. 273. 2i8 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. Huntington, " do so by all means ; and now we are about it, tie up Lady Sanderson's in the same way, so that I may not touch a shilling of it." Once when Huntington and his friend Edward Aldridge, the timber-merchant, were travelling in Sussex, Aldridge leaned back in the carriage and closed his eyes as if for a nap. •' Come, Edward," said Huntington, " don't sit there sleeping ; open your eyes and admire this fine prospect." " Ah, sir," said Aldridge, " I was thinking of the King in His beauty, and of the land that is very far off." ** Nonsense," said Huntington, who knew his man. " You were more likely thinking of buying timber." Another day, when walking in his garden at Cricklewood House, he saw his granddaughter, little Miss Blake,' at play there, and he remembered that it was her ninth birthday. Calling her to him, he wished her happy returns, and told her to hold up her apron. When she did so, he threw nine guineas into it. This sum was put out to interest, and the result was received by her when she came of age. Among Huntington's hearers was a Mr. Wilshere, who left a flourishing business in London in the hope of bettering himself at Kingston. After a » Perhaps the Mary Blake, who died in 1869, aged 72. See Gospel Advocate, 1869, P ^^5 PROVIDENCE CHAPEL BURNT DOWN. 219 year or two of prosperity in his new sphere, his business fell off to so great an extent that he and his family were brought to the verge of starvation, and his misery was accentuated by the fact that he had no ministry to go to for comfort. Eventually the poor man, in compliance with the advice of his wife, decided to consult Huntington ; but he entered the house in a palsy of fear. " Well," said Huntington roughly, after arrang- ing some papers, " I suppose you have been starved out ? " " It is so," sighed poor Wilshere. " If," said Huntington, " you had been a man of discernment, you must have known that if we sow to the flesh we shall reap corruption." He then put on his overcoat and hat, and said, " Follow me. They walked some distance, and at last came to a shop that was shut up. " Would you like to take that shop ? " said Huntington. "It might suit your business." After they had looked over it, Huntington gave Wilshere some money and said, " Pray over it, and come up the day after to-morrow at ,'* and he mentioned the hour. Wilshere did so punctually, but had resolved not to involve himself by taking the shop. When they once more arrived before it, Huntington procured the key and unlocked the door, revealing to Wilshere's astonished gaze a shop fitted with 220 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. various sorts of leather and other materials required for his business. " There," said Hunt- ington the Magnificent, " now you can go on with your trade, and may the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob bless and prosper you ! " In due time the currier who had supplied the goods called for fresh orders, and on Wilshere's offering to pay for the stock already in the shop, he said, " Mr. Huntington has settled the bill, and you can have any additional goods you want." Wilshere stayed in the house many years, and, to use his own expression, God prospered him.' One day somebody, pointing to Huntington's coach, said to him, " 1 wouldn't ride on a Sunday." " Perhaps not," said Huntington, " but I'm a son, you're a servant." " Religion should make us cheerful," Hunting- ton insisted, *' not sad ; " and once stopping in the middle of a sermon, he said, " There is a man sitting below me who always looks gloomy and melancholy. I don't believe that man knows any- thing experimentally about what I am preaching, for the Scripture says that God is to be the health of our countenance, but this man always looks as if he were going to be hanged at Tyburn."* After one of his sermons, some officious hearer entered the vestry, and whispered to him, " Sir, there are four men outside pulling your sermon to pieces." 1 Gospel Standard, October, 1870. "^ See Voice of Years, p. 43. PROVIDENCE CHAPEL BURNT DOWN. 221 "Any fool," said Huntington, "can pull to pieces either a sermon or a watch, the difficulty is to con- struct one." It would be easy to fill a volume with Hunting- ton's sayings. The following are a few of them : — " I never give a final decision against a man until he fights against the Persons in the Trinity. Then I give him up." " Our prayers have never gone to the extent of God's promises." " Riches never did a child of God any good, and poverty never did him any harm." " If a whole land were given to Poper)% and God had one child in it, He would bring that child forth." In one of his sermons he said, " I know the Lord Jesus as well as the best of you. He would have me because He would have me." CHAPTER XV 20TH JUNE, 181I i8tH JUNE, 1813 PENTONVILLE After residing at Cricklewood twelve years, Huntington was obliged to give up 72. Hermes Hill, 25th both his house and his farm ; an event Map., 1811. , . , , r " . 1 r to which he refers m a letter of November, 1810. " I have notice to quit my house next Lady-day," he says, " but I bless God for burning down the chapel ; I thank Him for turning me out of this house ; and I bless Him for all the plague, trouble, and opposition we meet with in the new chapel."' On 25th March, 181 1, he moved to a larger house on Hermes Hill, a district whose name is perpetuated by Hermes Street, a thoroughfare running north from Pentonville Road.^ The house, which belonged to Mr. Joseph Aldridge, had at one time been the residence of Dr. de Valagin, an eminent Swiss physician, who, indeed, had given the spot its name after the mythic Egyptian king, Hermes Trismegistus. " This is the fourth house 1 p. L. 2, p. 121. Cf. Rom. V. 3 : "But we glory in tribulations also." 2 The house is now approached by a court off Risinghill Street. It is close to St. Silas' Church. The observatory on it, erected by Valagin, has been removed, otherwise the house is unaltered. "SOMERVILLE," THE HOUSE AT TUNBRIDGE WELLS IN WHICH HUNTINGTON DIED. '■MY LAiJVS COTTAGE," Near Cranbrook. From a Photo by Mr. C. Good, Cranbrook. See p. i6o. PENTONVILLE. 223 I have had in town,'" says Huntington,' "and when I had made each fit and convenient then the rout came for my removal, that the sons of wicked- ness might enjoy my labours." As soon as he had settled in his new house he added a wing to it and erected some outbuildings. " I hope, sir," said Mr. John Over to him, " you have a long lease, for you are laying out a large sum on the premises." " No, I have not," said Huntington with heat — from which we may judge that Aldridge had in some way recently offended him — " I am only a yearly tenant. Joseph Aldridge has given me large sums of money, and I am determined to pay it all back to him ; he shall never have to plead at the bar of God that he has benefited me one farthing." For the most part Huntington was happy at Hermes Hill ; for it was a pleasant spot, with box- edged plots, fruit trees, gallant treillaged walks, and a hot-house. Between him and Lady Sander- sen, owing to dissimilarity of temperament, there were still occasional differences, but far too much has been made of them. Being neither a child nor a savage, Huntington disliked noises, whether produced by comb and paper, bells, or ivory keys ; and one of his trials was Miss Sanderson's fondness for the harpsichord — " the devil's rattle," as he testily called it. However, instead of prohibiting > His four London houses were : 29 Winchester Row, Paddington ; Church Street, Paddington ; Cricklewood House, Hendon ; Hermes Hill House. * 13th Dec., 1811. 224 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. its use, he built for himself on the wall which separated his garden from Copenhagen Fields a large summer-house with thick walls and double doors and windows. Having barred out the terrible quavers and semiquavers, he thought — deluded man — to enjoy *' the author's treasure, silence,'" but there were the loafers in Copenhagen Fields to be reckoned with ; and these gentry, having no harp- sichord, satisfied their musical instincts with pan or kettle, and further annoyed him with shouts, and an occasional stone. The coalheaver, however, still slumbered within the divine, and so one of his tormentors was to discover. One day, while Mr. John Over was sitting with him in the summer- house, a stone crashed through the window. In a moment Huntington ran to the outside gates, caught the man in the act of throwing another, and with the words, " You villain, I have you at last," felled him at a blow. On re-entering the summer house, Huntington, with troubled face, said to Mr. Over, " The moment I struck the man, the word of God struck me, ' No striker.'^ Here are two guineas. Go and find the man ; I dare say he is in some alehouse hard by, and on condition of his promising never to throw stones again give them to him." Mr. Over with some difficulty found the offender and delivered the message. The man readily made the promise, and as he took the 1 Cowper adapted. 2 I Tim. iii. 3. PENTONVILLE. 225 money said, " You tell Mr. Huntington he may knock me down as often as he likes provided he gives me two guineas every time." When Mr. Over returned to the summer house he found Hunt- ington on his knees confessing his sin. For what- ever reason, the loafers of Copenhagen Fields thenceforward left him in peace, and the summer house on the wall became in time almost as dear to him as had been the cabin at the chapel. Here he loved to meditate, and here he wrote many of the letters which the recipients so carefully read and treasured, and handed down to their children as heirlooms. It has already been observed that while Huntington was profuse, Lady Sanderson was even amusingly economical, and that to some extent he allowed himself to be influenced by her. But when her cardinal virtue overstepped all reasonable bounds (a habit of cardinal virtues), he hesitated not to manifest his displeasure in original ways. Thus, once on returning home after a long journey he found no food whatever in the house. It was not the first time he had been thus inconvenienced ; so he walked straight to the kitchen, and taking two or three plates from the rack he threw them one after another on to the stone floor ; though we will in charity express the hope that he picked out only the chipped and cracked ones. However that may be, the noise brought down her ladyship in a terrible fluster. There lay her crockery in shivers. 226 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. " Are you mad ? " she enquired. " What do you mean ? " He replied that plates are for use, not for orna- ment, and as there was nothing to put on them he thought he might just as well break them up. Though Huntington was abstemious in his living and never took wine, he liked his friends to be served with the best. Once when Mr. Thomas Bensley, his publisher, was dining with him, he invited his guest to take a second glass of wine, saying, " It is real Mansion House port." It seems, however, that, unbeknown to Huntington, Lady Sanderson had removed the genuine Simon Pure and substituted another wine — a wholesome wine, no doubt — of her own making. " It may be Mansion House," observed Mr. Bensley, " but it has never yet seen Oporto." Once when there was a visitor at Cricklewood the conversation turned upon a person who had died very rich. Lady Sanderson interposed the remark, " If I had possessed so much wealth I would have visited the poor and otherwise have spent it." Huntington, looking at her incredulously, asked, " Would you, indeed, my lady ? " " Yes, Doctor," she replied, " that I would." Huntington made no further remark, but it was judged that he still had his doubts. Like Huntington's first wife. Lady Sanderson was not altogether pleased because his duties PENTONVILLE. 227 made him so much of a recluse ; and society being vital to her, she sometimes sought it in a circle who were not to his taste. The Rev. Samuel Turner and another friend were once conversing with him in his study when tea was announced. " There's a set of them there," said Huntington, " I cannot endure, and I do not want to hear their chatter, so mind and get done as soon as possible and let us be quit of them." Huntington quickly took two cups of tea and scarcely spoke. When Lady Sanderson asked whether he would take more, he answered, " No more ; " and his two friends, in compliance with his wish, imitated him. Then said Huntington, ** As you've finished we may as well go ; " and he rose and walked, absorbed in thought, through the garden to his summer-house. They followed him, and on reaching it seated themselves one on each side of him. " Now," said he, " there's an honest man between two thieves." After a short pause, he said, " No, my dear brethren, we are all three thieves. Oh, have we not robbed God of His glory and our souls of comfort ? " The rest of the conversation comported with this remark ; for, to use the words of one of the two friends, Huntington was that evening " much favoured with a holy, happy frame of mind." If we had nothing beside these anecdotes and an occasional hasty remark, overheard by servants, to depend upon, we might fairly assume that 228 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. Huntington and Lady Sanderson were not very happy together; but there is abundant evidence to stultify the assumption, and to prove that these occurrences were nothing more than what takes place in a thousand families in which a deep-set Christian feeling, combined with mutual love, renders harmless the occasional outburst. " I am a living witness," says Thomas Bensley,' " of the love and esteem that subsisted between her ladyship and her late consort, who more than once, at distant periods, told me confidentially of the tender and affectionate regard she bore him." Let it be remembered, too, that Huntington was always absolute master in his house ; and though he gave way whenever possible in order to afford pleasure to his wife and her daughter, neverthe- less, to his wishes, when made plain, they in- variably deferred. He had but to put down his foot and all opposition vanished. The Rev. Samuel Turner often observed that "Lady Sanderson's conduct was consistent both as a lady and as a Christian ;"' and he records an incident connected with one of his visits, in order to show whence some of the idle tales respecting Huntington took their origin. The report had reached him that he and Huntington had quarrelled on separating. This amazed him, as well it might, for, to use his own words, they " had parted in peace and love." He then recalled the fact that * Writing after Huntington's death. ' Gosp. Adv., 1872, p. 52. PENTONVILLE. 229 in the warmth of their feelings, "not of contention but affection," they had raised their voices, and he doubted not that the report of the supposed quarrel originated with the servants, who, hearing the sound, had rashly or mischievously misre- presented the cause.' Sarah Bowyer Allsopp, granddaughter of James Bowyer,^ one of Hunt- ington's hearers and friends, corroborated Mr. Turner's testimony. She said she often heard her grandfather and her mother speak of the harmony which existed between Huntington and Lady Sanderson, closing her letter with — " Bless his dear and honoured memory, how I love it ! "^ Soon after Huntington had settled at Hermes Hill he generously put himself to the expense of cleaning the White Conduit,* a local public spring. In some persons, however, every act of his excited ill-feeling, and one night some of these miscreants caused a load of refuse to be tipped upon the spring, with the result that the water was rendered impure, and the public were deprived of the benefit which Huntington had hoped to confer. The new chapel' was finished within six months ' Gospel Advocate, 1872, p. 53. ^ For letter of Huntington to James Bowyer see Living Testimonies, Ben. Vol. 13, p. 278. ^ Letter of gth Jan., 1872, printed in Gospel Advocate, 1872, p. 52. ' * The White Conduit public-house marks the site. ^ The trustees were Thomas Bensley, Bolt Court, printer ; John Mason, Fleet Street, seedsman ; John Over, Fleet Market, butcher ; Edward Aldridge, Aldersgate Street, timber merchant ; Christopher Goulding, Cheapside, linen draper. 230 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. of its commencement, and Huntington ■ chape?^ arranged to open it with a special ser- june2o"i8n ^^^ ^^ ^^^^ June, 1811. As was the case in respect to his other under- takings, the financial department was sadly mis- managed. Strictly honourable himself, he again and again suffered from his fatal habit of assuming that others were actuated by the same principles ; indeed, he was at the mercy of every plausible and venal schemer. Even when the chapel was finished, he had but a nebulous idea of its cost. After some ;f6,ooo had been collected, he learnt that another ^500 was required to free it from debt. So he at once determined to visit the wealthier of his hearers, and desiring John Over and Edward Ald- ridge to accompany him, he said he would not return until he had obtained the amount. The first person they called on gave him ;f 20, the next ^50, and in a few hours he had collected all he wanted. On the day appointed, June 20th, Huntington opened the chapel, and preached to a huge congregation the sermon afterwards published under the title of " The Glory of the Latter House." We have Mr. Stevens's authority for the statement that Huntington, believing the building was all paid for, told his people so " the first or second time he preached in the new chapel." He soon discovered, however, that he was hopelessly out of reckoning, that the cost would be nearer ;^9,ooo than ^^6,000, of which he had collected only PENTONVILLE. 231 ;f6,i20/ However, he eventually surmounted all difficulties, for writing on February 29th, 18 12, he says, " When the various accounts for building the chapel were sent in, amounting to ^8,600, we wanted ;f 1,800 to complete that sum, which was subscribed within a few days, and the whole debt paid off/ That, however, was by no means the end, for in all ^^10,000 was spent. The whole of the money was raised by his own hearers. He pro- hibited his friends from soliciting contributions from outsiders, and when such money arrived he promptly returned it. Naturally he would have no organ in his new chapel. " Pompous appearances," he says, " and public parading to assemble and excite the curiosity of a multitude, with the assistance of an organ and such trumpery rattletraps, may serve to charm fallen nature, lay carnal prejudice in a trance, and fill a house with hypocrites ; but conversion to God is another thing."^ In a letter of 25th Nov., 181 1, he says, " The old cow pond is become not only the wedding chamber but also the nursery and the banqueting house to many. Our chapel is amazingly filled without organ, without fine singing. Christ All in all needs no addition."* And in July, 181 2, he wrote, " I think I never had the success that I have had in this place, so that I 1 p. L. Vol. 4. p. 331. > p. L. Vol. 4. p. 337. 3 P. L. 4, p. 429. The Modem Plasterer Detected * P. L. Vol. I, p. 397. 232 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. may say that I bring forth fruit in old age, to show that the Lord is upright. Yet I have many infirmities, cough, rheumatism, and the gravel. It is with difficulty I can walk or stand upright." " The glory of this latter house," he tells Charles Martin,' " has greatly exceeded the glory of the former. I doubt not but when the time comes that the Lord will write up the people, it will be said that this and that man was born there. I have received wonderful accounts, and I intend, if the Lord permit, to publish them. We are well attended, and the audience seem very attentive and devout, which affords me much encouragement and satisfaction." The seatholder's ticket"" used in the old chapel bore a picture of the Seven-horned Lamb and the inscriptions, "■ The Lamb in the midst of the throne," and "Providence Chapel, Titchfield St.;" that used in the new chapel a picture of Jesus and the woman of Samaria, with the inscriptions, "I that speak unto thee am He" Qohn iv. 26), and " City Chapel." The communion ticket had in the centre a picture of the Last Supper, supported by female figures representing Mercy and Truth; the inscription, "Providence Chapel, engraved by G. Terry,3 Paternoster Row ; " and the following texts — one in each corner: "Caution (i Cor. xi. 27); Direction (xi. 28) ; Consequence (xi. 30, 31) ; 1 29th Jan., 1812. ' See our illustrations. 8 The Garnet Terry referred to on p. 142. PENTONVILLE. 233 Example (Acts ii. 42)." The member's name and address were written on the back. " Only those who heard Huntington preach," said the Rev. Samuel Adams,' " can have any idea of the greatness of his 74. scenes at t.hG New mind in spiritual things, or can ever chapei. feel what those felt who heard the glorious truths of the gospel from his own lips. I shall never forget the impression I received under the first sermon I heard from him. I could only weep and pray. I felt an inexpressible awe. His writings give but a faint idea of this truly wonder- ful and holy man. His power as a preacher was seldom equalled, never surpassed." Among his hearers were Sir William Hay; Sir Ludlow Harvey; Mr. Hannah, Comptroller of the Household to Princess Charlotte ; Mr. Hunter, Keeper of the Observatory in Kew Gardens ; Mr. Saunders, the King's State Coachman ; Mr. Henry Peto, builder of London Bridge ; and the Earl of Liverpool,' afterwards Prime Minister, and several members of the royal household occasionally attended. In order to form an idea of a service at Provi- dence Chapel, let us suppose that an honest fellow. Farmer George Blunt from Buckingham- shire, is visiting one of Huntington's hearers — say » Vicar of Thornton, son of " Adam and Eve." See p. 86. ' He succeeded Mr, Percival as Prime Minister, and held the ofiBce for fifteen years. Sir Richard Hill, who died 28th November, 1808, had been a regular hearer in the old chapel. He was Rowland Hill's brother. 234 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. good John Keyt, on gth February, 1812. In the morning Keyt attends Providence Chapel alone, and on his return he is full of the sermon, which was entitled, " Naphtali ; or, Holy Wrestling." "The subject is to be continued this evening," says Keyt ; " come with me, and you will hear what you will never forget." After some demur, George, who has what in Buckinghamshire they call " the seventh-day ague," finally consents. He surveys himself in a glass ; he notes with satisfaction the setting of his neckcloth and the immaculate appearance of his flapped waistcoat, breeches, and buckled shoes ; he replenishes his snuff-box ; he puts on a chocolate overcoat and a sleek brand-new beaver; and he is ready. As they walk along Keyt slips into his hand a green ticket. " What's that for ? " enquires George. " They'll be no getting a seat without it," replies Keyt. When they arrive in Grays Inn Lane, George notices, to his surprise, that although they are full early the whole of the street in the neighbourhood of the chapel is blocked with chariots, hackney coaches, curricles, gigs, and other vehicles, while more are streaming towards them, and there is a queue of persons at each entrance, as if it might be a theatre. Presently the door at which they present themselves opens, and they pass in with the crowd. In a minute or two, though there is a quarter of an hour to wait, the whole of the building is full, area, gallery — everywhere. The PENTONVILLE. 235 pew into which Keyt and George enter is a small one, there being room for only one more person. Presently a young lady, neatly dressed in a poke bonnet tied under her chin with drab ribbons and a sober-coloured cloak, from the opening of which peeps a reticule, takes the vacant seat. George stares about him. " Who's that in the big wig?" he whispers. " Oh, that's Sir Ludlow Harvey." — " Who's that over there in the puce-coloured coat ? " " That's Lord Liverpool, but please don't whisper," says Keyt, and he tucks into George's hands a well-thumbed copy of Hart's Hymns. George, however, still continues to look about him. Though there are people of importance present — some of them, as he afterwards hears, members of the royal household — nevertheless the congregation consists for the most part of respectable tradesmen and their wives, plain decorous people, who eschew " ear bobs " and other meretricious ornaments. There was neither cottish' man nor hermaphrodi- tical woman ^ among them. Huntington is in the vestry. Often, he tells us, for a few minutes before going into his pulpit the Bible was " a sealed book " to him, his understanding in worse than Egyptian darkness — "some thousands coming to hear, and I with a blind mind, a lifeless form, and like a dumb man without a message or even a ' Effeminate. A favourite word with Huntington. See Bank of Faith, p. iig, " A gown has such a cottish appearance on a labourer in a vine- yard ; " and Ben. Vol. 4, p. 329, The Modem Plasterer Detected, addressed to Sir Ham Cottish. 2 Woman dressed like a man. See Ben. Vol. 4, p. 162. 236 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. heavenly thought — then all on a sudden a text has flown into my mind . . . has come with all its own native rays, in its own power and meaning, opened up, branched out in its admirable harmony, and text upon text to support the sense, and con- firm the meaning ; and in one minute have I got enough to last me two hours. Then the blessed Spirit preaches ; the outgoings of the King and the fair beauty of the Lord appear in the sanc- tuary — life and love fly round about, while every healthy conscience and cheerful countenance pro- claims the condescending visits of the Lord of hosts ; there Parson Sack (like Manoah and his wife) only looks on, while the angel of the Lord does wondrously.'" The vestry door opens, and all eyes are directed to the minister as, portly in form, with broad shoulders and solemn face, he slowly, and, it is judged, painfully, ascends the toilsome steep leading to the pulpit, which finally swallows him.* The clerk gives out hymn No. loo: " Come, ye sinners, poor and wretched, Weak and wounded, sick and sore." George stands to sing, but, to his surprise, finds that, following custom, all the others remain seated. So he sinks down in some confusion. The hymn concluded, the minister rises from his pulpit, ^ To Elizabeth Blaker. Gospel Advocate, 1872, p. 306. ^ Huntington's pulpit is now in the new chapel at Thane Villas, Finsbury Park. The minister, the Rev. W. Sinden, tells me that it has undergone only trifling alteration. PENTONVILLE. 237 and George is struck with his massive face, and his solemn, earnest, and statuesque appearance. When he commences to pray, the whole congrega- tion rises and remains standing. He prays with eyes couched, as if an illuminated seer — every sentence in his prayer being a verse of Scripture or part of one, for it was a maxim with him that in prayer we should strive to encompass the Almighty with His own promises. Then there is another hymn, and when it is concluded he gives out his text, Luke xiii. 24 : " Strive to enter in at the strait gate." " I showed you this morning," he begins, " that there was a gate or door into the sheepfold. . . ." In a moment every eye is strained towards him, necks are craned, hands placed to ears, while some persons in their anxiety not to miss even a syllable rise from their seats. George, who had expected to see what he had so often seen in the old parish church at Little Slumberly — a snuffy old gentleman prosing and droning over a sleeping congregation — can scarcely believe his senses. The preacher uses no action except crumpling a white handkerchief in his hand, though he marks by a significant nod any observation which he desires to be particularly noticed. He avoids levity and everything that even verges on the histrionic. He never exerts his voice, which is clear and agreeable. He lays great emphasis upon the concluding words of his 238 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. sentences. He speaks from the heart to the heart ; not, however, as a dying man to dying men, but as a man who will never die to men who also will never die. After some general remarks on the strait gate, he says that "at this gate we always find a pulling two different ways," and he dwells on the cruelty of men to each other. " You often hear of hundreds of men quarrelling and fighting and cursing each other, but you never heard of two devils disagreeing." He quotes the passage from Paradise Lost, Book 2, beginning, " Oh shame to men ! Devil with devil damn'd Firm concord holds." He then touches on the subject of false teachers, and tells the story of Ahab, Jehoshaphat, and Micaiah. " But the false prophets prophesy smooth things. So do the Socinians and the Deists of the present day. They gallop into God's presence like the unthinking horse into battle, and thus rush upon the thick bosses of God's buckler. Christ is the way to the Father, and if we embrace Him we shall find favour with the Father. We may see men who are fellow-soldiers and yet not of one heart with each other ; we may see in noblemen's families fellow-servants, but you cannot say of them, as John saith of the saints, ' He dwelleth in God, and God dwelleth in him.' This is higher than any fellowship that is found among men, for there is something of God lodged in us, and PENTONVILLE. 239 something of us lodged in God." After other remarks on human frailty, the preacher pauses to take breath, and a hum of approval circulates round the chapel. The young woman at George's side is deeply moved. " All my sins are before me ! " she mutters. Then the preacher goes on. " What is that lodged in us ? It certainly is His most Holy Spirit, for He hath given unto us His Spirit as an earnest of our inheritance ; and we in return give unto Him the greatest thing that we have ; but what is that ? Why, it is what the Lord Himself asks for : ' My son, give Me thine heart.' " Here the preacher's eyes fix themselves in the neighbourhood of Mr. Keyt's pew, and he exclaims, " Take care of your pockets ! " George promptly slips one hand on the fob con- taining his fat pinchbeck watch and the other on the pocket where his fatter purse should be ; and the fact occurring to him that there are female pick-pockets as well as male, he glances sideways at his fair companion, who, noticing his actions and reading his thoughts, blushes to the brow-locks. But his watch and his purse are safe. The pick- pocket is evidently some pews behind him. The preacher having given the warning goes on as if nothing extraordinary had happened. ''Christ says, ' I am the door ; no man can come to the Father, but by Me.' " After some remarks on the subject of grace, he says, " Come, I will ask 240 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. you a question. * Do not you with all your heart believe that you shall, sooner or later, find grace and favour with God, through Jesus Christ ? * * Yes,' say you, ' sometimes I do really believe I shall.' Well, then, hear what Christ says, * He that believeth hath everlasting life.' And do you find the saints the objects of your sincere regard and love? If so, then John says, 'We know that we have passed from death unto life, because we love the brethren.' Do you see these things ? If you do, I will despatch this part of my text." Here George, supposing that the sermon, which by his computation must have lasted over an hour, is finished, takes out his pinchbeck and turns his head to compare it with the clock in the gallery. But while he is in the act a voice comes from the pulpit, "We do not preach by the hour, sir." It suddenly dawns on George that the words are addressed to him, and that upon him two thousand pairs of eyes are for the instant focussed. Now it is his turn to redden ; but the preacher then goes on to speak of those who seek to enter in at the gate and yet are not able. "The reason is because they were never enlightened to see the glory, the beauty, the excellencies, and the preciousness of the heavenly Saviour ; nor were ever drawn by the Spirit of love to experience the spirituality of things above. And if they are not enlightened to see the preciousness of the Saviour, nor quickened by the influence of the Holy Ghost to know the unutter- PENTONVILLE. 241 able joy, the influence of love, the heavenly glory, the sweet enlargement and liberty of soul, the glory and beauty of Christ's righteousness, of the spiritual fulness of grace that there is in Him " — I say, "if they are not influenced by these things, then there is nothing under the sun so charming to them as sin, or else there is something of earthly treasure to outshine in their view the glories of heaven." Then he tells the story of the young man in the gospel ; and urges upon his hearers the importance of caring for the poor and needy. " It will be im- possible for you," he adds, "to enter the gate with the love of money and the love of the world in your hearts. I know what it is to enter in at this gate, and to enjoy my God, as much as any man in this world ; and I tell you that you cannot dwell in God and enjoy Him while you hoard up in your aff^ections anything of this world, for that will keep Him out. God bless the hints I have dropped. I add no more." After a hymn and the benediction the chapel empties itself, and many of the people wait outside to get a glimpse of the minister as he walks through the courtyard to his carriage, George and John Keyt among them. While waiting, the people discuss the sermon. " He was on it to-night," says one, referring to the doctrine of election. " How sweetly he put those thoughts about the bit of God in us, and the bit of us in God," says another. Here the principal doors of the chapel 242 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. open, and Huntington, accompanied by Lady- Sanderson, Mr. Goulding, and Mr. Bensley, walks through the crowd to his carriage, followed by a hundred God-bless-you,-sirs. The coachman gives his horses the whip, and the night swallows them up. By this time a little crowd has gathered round John Keyt. One notices William Stevens, John Eedes, the Rev. Thomas Burgess, Christopher Goulding, Cornelius Tozer, and other godly men. Tozer, who has taken down the sermon in short- hand, displays his manuscript. " The Doctor was as forcible as ever to-night," says Eedes, " but he ages fast." " Believe me, we shall not long have him with us," says Goulding; "he has never been himself since that last fit." Stevens links his arm with Keyt's, and the two, accompanied by George, walk home together, conversing on the influences of the Holy Spirit. "And what," asks Keyt of George, "most struck you in the sermon ? " " The preacher's method of explaining scripture with scripture," replies George. " Then, too, he seemed to know my thoughts. It was like holding up a glass to my face." " He never omits disagreeable truths," observes Keyt, " nor tries to soften anything down." George is not sure that he likes that comment, but Keyt, good man, intended nothing personal. Then, too, George had not relished the remark made by the preacher when he looked at his watch ; PENTONVILLE. 243 however, he soon recovers, and he resolves that when he gets back to Little Slumberly he will read his Bible attentively, and compare the preacher's words with the contents of the sacred page. He has been set thinking ; but matters will not rest there : he will go to hear Huntington again. In the preceding passage I have attempted to picture an evening at Providence Chapel. Nothing more, however, than a feeble idea has been given. The intense earnestness of the preacher, the inflec- tions of his voice, the atmosphere of the place — alive as it were with electricity — all these I was unable to convey. Both minister and people at Providence Chapel, indeed, were terribly in earnest. Huntington preached many sermons on his favourite doctrine of justification by faith in Christ, among the most powerful being one delivered on 27th October, 181 1, and published after his death under the title of "The Lord our Righteousness.'" " Christ," he says, " will require the blood of His servants spilt by persecuting Roman pontiffs and their cruel agents ; it was Christ they hated, as they do now, because His righteousness is imputed to the sinner. . . . And as the Lord's eye hath always been over His people since the foundation of our earth to the end, from Adam to the last elected soul ; so He declares the righteous shall be ^ Published in 1826 in pamphlet form of 82 pages, from notes taken in shorthand by Cornelius Tozer. 244 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. had in everlasting remembrance," After speaking of the various enemies of God's people, he exclaims triumphantly and grandly, " But notwithstanding all their malice and hatred, and readiness to per- vert, contemn, and alter the Word of God, and propagate errors, yet, blessed be God, they have never been able to change His covenant, alter His decrees, nor rob Him of one of His sheep ; no, nor never shall, for Eternal Veracity declares in my text, ' My salvation shall be for ever, and My righteousness shall never be abolished.' " On another occasion, when dwelling with great emphasis on the Justification doctrine, he all of a sudden paused, and said he would call a competent witness to prove it. Then in a moment, trans- forming himself from a minister of the Gospel in the pulpit into a judge on the judicial bench, he called aloud : " Is the Apostle Paul in court ? " And as if he had received an audible answer in the affirmative from Paul himself, he proceeded : — " Paul, I want you; stand up in the witness box. I wish to ask you a question or two." Paul, in a few moments, is supposed to have taken his place in the witness box, and then Hunt- ington went on : — " Your name is Paul, I believe ? " " That is my name." " And you are an apostle of Jesus Christ ? " " I am ; and glory in being so." " You have written a work, among others, called the Epistle to the Romans .'* " PENTONVILLE. 245 " I have." " And in that work you have laid down strongly and decidedly the doctrine of justification by faith in Christ ? " " I have." " And do you, witness, still adhere to that doctrine ? " " Most certainly." " And firmly ? " " Most firmly. It is the clearest, as well as the most important, doctrine in the ' glorious gospel of the blessed God.' " " You retract nothing of what you have said on the subject ? " '' Nothing." ** Not a single word ? " " Not a single word." " Well, you may stand down. You have given your evidence very clearly and satisfactorily." A person who was present on the occasion used to say that nothing could surpass the effect of this improvised judicial scene in a place of worship.' Huntington's sermons were rarely less than an hour and a half in duration, for he seldom troubled to keep to his text ; but despite his excursiveness no one excelled him in the art of expressing vital truths compendiously. Though he relied solely on the experimental and scriptural matter of his ser- mons, and avoided oratorical display, nevertheless, * Christian Standard, 2nd Jan. 1873. 246 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. he was easy in his manner, fluent, and at times eloquent. His aim, to use the words of one of his followers, was, " To probe delusion in each various guise, And show the power wherein religion lies."* As we have noticed, the charge of Antinomianism was often brought against him by his enemies ; and he sometimes alluded to this calumny in his ser- mons. " They tell us we may live as we list," he said ; " I would give ten thousand worlds to do so. I should never feel any more risings of inbred cor- ruption, no hidings of God's countenance, no motions of lust from the old man, no more doubts or fears; but I should live in the constant enjoyment of God's love all my days." He threw his hand down with much force on the cushion, and added, *' That's living as you list." " In the whole of the seven years which I heard him," says William Stevens, who records the incident, " this was the only time I saw him throw his hand down on the pulpit cushion."* Some of his critics — Mr. Terry, for example — found fault with his " dictatorial dogmatism " ; but he conceived himself simply as an instrument through which the Holy Spirit breathed. As, how- ever, I have cited some of Huntington's thorough- going admirers, I must, in justice, allow his leading antagonist a word. " Believe him, none but him," 1 John Eedes : The Twilight of Sardis. ^ Recollections, p. 42. PENTONVILLE. 247 says Mr. Terry, " and that is enough. If he aims thus to pin the faith of those who hear him, he will say over and over, ' As sure as I am born 'tis,* &c. ; or, ' I believe this,' or * I know that' ; ' I am sure of it,' or ' I believe the plain English of it (some difficult text) to be,' &c. When he adds, as he is wont, by way of fixing the point, * Now you can't help it,' or 'so it is,' or 'it must be in spite of you,' he does this with a most significant shake of his head, with a sort of beldam hauteur, with all the dignity of defiance. It is then he will sometimes observe, softening his deportment, ' I don't know whether I make you understand these things, but / understand them well.' His is the pleasant style of preaching, for in his speaking, as in his writing, he seems to laugh in his heart."^ If Huntington resented any action made by a member of his congregation, he instantly admin- istered a rebuke. The incident of the watch^ indeed, had many parallels. Once, on a week evening, the Rev. Mr. Howells, Vicar of St. An- tholin's,* a frequent hearer, who sat just in front of the pulpit, was seen to smile. Huntington instantly stopped, and asked with heat, "What are you laughing at, sir?" "I smiled with approbation at your discourse, sir," was the reply. " Oh, very well," said Huntington, and he proceeded with his sermon. » The Pulpit. Vol. i. ' Thames Street. 248 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. The hymns sung at the chapel were generally Hart's, and there was little variety in the tunes. Goodman Clarke gave out the words, and his son led the singing. One evening the young man ventured to introduce some new tunes, and rather plumed himself on the result. After the service the father enquired of Huntington, " How did you like the singing this evening, sir ? " " Not at all ! not at all ! " said Huntington. "Why, how so, sir? It was good, and my son led. He is reckoned a first-rate singer." " That may be," said Huntington, " but second- rate suits us best." Nevertheless when the old man died his son succeeded to his office and its emoluments. The ordinance of the Lord's Supper was ad- ministered once a month on a Sunday afternoon — Huntington giving the bread, and Mr. Lock the wine. Of Huntington's attitude towards baptism we have already spoken.' When one of his hearers wished to be immersed, he asked, " Why ? " " Because, sir," was the reply, " I think I can see Jesus in the water." " Then," said Huntington, " by all means go there after Him. I know I would, or anywhere else to find Him." And (fol- lowing his custom when any hearer wished to be immersed) he sent the man with some Christian message to the nearest Baptist minister. » Of the 900 members of Huntington's church about half were Baptists. PENTONVILLE. 249 On another occasion, after dwelling on the use- lessness of water unaccompanied by a spiritual change in the person baptised, he said, *' The bap- tism of the Holy Spirit is essential to salvation, but as to water, you may drag a man from Dover to Calais; that will do him no good." An event now occurred which touched Hunting- ton to the quick — the death of the Rev. 75 Death of W. J. Brook. On the 22nd of Septem- ^g^'rook,''' ber, 181 1, when he was walking in his Sep.2i.i8n garden at Pentonville, his gardener approached him and said, "Have you heard anything from Brighton, sir?" "No," replied Huntington. "Then," said the man, "I have to tell you, sir, that Mr. Brook is dead!"' Huntington staggered under the shock, then, without uttering a word, he walked on thoughtfully. Returning to the man, he said, with strong emotion, "So Mr. Brook is dead, is he, John? Well, mark this. Brook is gone to heaven, and my house is a complete hell to me."* Evidently something unpleasant had just oc- curred in his home, and with his customary impul- siveness he had expressed himself thus vehemently. But all through life, and in every manner of circumstance, it was his habit, as we have seen, in moments of tension, to make similar outbursts;^ 1 He was only 36. He is baried in St. Nicholas churchjrard, Brighton. *Cel. Coal. p. 81. 3 Cf. his remark re Brook, p. 159 ; re Joseph Aldridge, ch. 15, p. 223 ; and his treatment of the window-breaker in the same chapter. 250 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. and as we know not the attendant circumstances, it is impossible to erect any theory upon the incident. In January, 1812, Huntington revisited Lewes and Tunbridge Wells ; and on his 76. The Coal- ^ , , . , . heaver's Last return he resumed his duties in the Pilgrimage. , . .... , . , , pulpit and in his study with renewed energy. His letters to his friends were as bright as ever, and they usually concluded with such sentences as — " The Coalheaver and his lady send their love to the collector^ and his duchess ; " " My dame and the girls send their kind respects to you and Mrs. Bensley;"^ " My dame sends her love to you and Mrs. Morris." ^ As time went on, however, his writing became less and less firm. " My hand shakes," &c., concludes a letter of 23rd February, " and I cannot get on."* *' I have been poorly," he commences another of February 26th, " and my poor dame much worse." ^ During his last twelve months he devoted his thoughts particularly to the book of Revelation, and the conclusions to which he came are recorded in a series of letters to his friend, the Rev. Isaac Beeman.^ The death of Mr. Percival, who was shot in the » To Mr. Wm. Hudson, of Manchester. 12th Feb., 1812. P.L. 2. p. 91. ^ P. L. 4, p. 387 ; P. L 2, p. 311. "The girls" were Miss Sanderson and her friend, Miss Falkland. ^P. L. I, p. 249. ^ P. L. 2. p. 95. ^ P. L. I, p. 402. fi P. L. vol, 4, pp. 398 — 451. Letters, March 9th to April 27th. PENTONVILLE. 251 House of Commons, came as a severe blow to him, for, regarding it as the work of the Jacobins, he anticipated an outbreak of anarchy. " How small," he comments, " is the number of the sober-minded and thinking part of the nation when compared with the lower orders, who through ignorance have nothing to fear, and through idle- ness nothing to lose.'" The principal opponents of his latter days were the Rev. Vigors MacCulla' and the Rev. John Stevens (successor to the Rev. Richard Burnham), who had fulminated against him in various places for nine years.' On June 14th he was preaching at Cranbrook again.* The crowd to hear him had never been so great, and hundreds were unable to get into the chapel. Among those present was one of his friends, James Wilmshurst,^ who, having long been ill, had expressed the wish to hear Huntington once more. " He heard me," says Huntington, '' from 2 Cor. V. 4, 5. On Tuesday I went to see him, and Thursday noon he departed in peace. "^ From on Cranbrook Huntington drove to Tunbridge Wells, where Lady Sanderson, Miss Sanderson, and her companion. Miss Falkland, had arranged to join him. Referring to this journey, he writes to Re- becca Martin, " I had a sweet time on the road. 1 p. L. vol. 4, p. 386. 14th May, 1812. « P. L. vol. 4. pp. 387, 388. » P. L. vol. 4. pp. 387. 388. *P. L. 2. p. 66. ' Grandfather of the present Mr. Jonathan Wilmshurst. " P. L. 2, p. 20. 252 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. All nature looked gay, as it always does when God makes the heart cheerful." Proceeding in his letter, he laments his many failings, and, using a favourite phrase, confesses that he had been behaving more like the devil than the Doctor, adding, *' However, Jesus looked upon me, when all these mountains flowed down at His presence," and concluding with one of those remarkable sayings which cling to the reader like burrs, " Becky, I cannot live without Him ; He is my wheel of motion, my spring of life, and my weight of glory, and when these are gone, nothing is left but the clock-case."' Every six or seven years, as we have seen, it was his custom to revisit the five sacred spots — Mortlake, Kingston, Sunbury, Ewell, and Thames Ditton ; and in the summer of 1812 he made what proved to be his last pilgrimage to them. On this occasion, doubtless with the feeling that he would never see them again, he took them in chronological order, and therefore first visited Mortlake (his Ur of the Chaldees) and the old apple tree,"" near which he heard the voice which bade him separ- ate himself from his sinful companions, and leave the neighbourhood. From Mortlake he pro- ceeded to Kingston-on-Thames (his Sinai), with its memories of the lane, the little house, the single room and the prayer curtain. In the garden at Sunbury (as on a former visit) there stood a 1 p. L. 4, p. 243. ^ See p. 14. PENTONVILLE. -253 ladder at the very spot at which had stood the ladder associated with the effulgent vision. " I got upon it," he says, " and saw the little tool-house, wherein the good Spirit put up, in and by me, His first prevalent and all-pervading prayer, strictly ordering me to direct my supplications to Jesus Christ, which I accordingly did." In forty years the place had scarcely changed. The only difference was in Huntington himself. Instead of a spare, clownish-looking young man in blue with a shock head of hair and an apology for a hat, there was a stout, well-dressed old gentleman in black, in a short cropped wig and the slouched and three-cornered head-gear of a cleric — but forty more marvellous years no man, it is to be supposed, ever experienced. From Sunbury he went on to Ewell, and from Ewell to Thames Ditton. "But now," he con- cludes the letter which describes these visits, " old age is come on, and I think I have taken my final leave of all these little hills, hoping shortly to ascend into the hill of the Lord, where I shall find the substance of all these many pledges, earnests, and first fruits. It is with no small degree of pleasure that I remember the way in which the Lord hath led me these forty years in the wilder- ness."' Old age had indeed stolen upon him apace, and owing to his inability to take sufficient exercise, he steadily grew stouter. As a remedy" he had * To Joseph Chamberlain. 26th Oct., 1812. Lamentations of Satan, pt. 2, p. I. *» 254 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. recourse to cupping. A physician who attended him for that purpose noticed a large velvet cushion in the corner of his bedroom, and asked the use of it. " Oh, that is where I settle my accounts every night," he said ; " but perhaps you do not under- stand that.'" In his bedchamber at Hermes Hill indeed, just as in his poor room at Ewell, he had fallen into the habit of using a special place for praying. Though tried by his various ailments, and though his glass was running out apace, he was as diligent as ever in his self-imposed tasks. Thus we read of his rising so early on an August morning, in order to write a letter, that he could not see owing to the darkness ;' and he sent to the press the corre- spondence between himself and some persons who he hoped had received the grace of God in truth — The Lamentations of Satan, a work to which there are allusions in his letters of Aug. 24th,3 Sept. loth,'* and Sept. lyth,^ written just before its publication. After preaching on a Sunday he was so weak that he could scarcely walk ; but by way of comment he wrote, " Afflictions are of use, as they serve to humble us ; they discover and stir up our evils that are within, and bring us off from confidence in the flesh."^ » Cf. " Self-examination is to the believer the business of every day " (let- ter published in Gospel Standard, 1848, p. 350) ; P. L. 3, p. 227: "At such times I settle my accounts, recount and confess all that is amiss, rehearse all His past favours with thanks ; ' ' and P. L. 4, p. 162, cited in § 65. a P. L. 2, p. 314. 8 P. L. 2, p. 315 (letter of Aug. 24th). * P. L. Vol. I, p. 242 * Vol. 3, p. n8. 6 P. L. 2, p. 85 (Nov. loth, 1812). PENTONVILLE. 255 He was cheered, moreover, by a visit from the Rev. Samuel and Mrs. Turner,' who spent a week with him, though the lameness from which Mrs. Turner suffered dashed both his own pleasure and that of the others. " I believe," he said to Turner, among other remarks, " the Holy Spirit hovers over the elect from their infancy, and in due time enters to bless and to save." In after days, recalling this visit, Turner observed of Lady Sanderson, " I am convinced she was what she professed to be, a sincere Christian. She was very kind and attentive to Mr. Huntington." On 8th December, 18 12,' Turner wrote to Hunt- ington to tell him that Thomas Owram^ had just died at the age of 70. The letter, which contains an affecting account of ** Tommy's " last hours, concludes with, " My dear wife desires me to say that she heartily joins with me in kind love to you, dear Lady Sanderson (whose affectionate behaviour we cannot forget), and the young ladies."'* Hunt- ington, in reply, expresses his pleasure at hearing of '* the happy and honourable dismission of poor Tommy." He says that he has often prayed for Mrs. Turner, and that he is persuaded that God will heal her. " Every day," he adds, " when I draw near to the Lord in private, she is sure to be 1 Gospel Advocate, 1872, pp. 57 and 96. Letter of Mrs. Scott, Turner's daughter-in-law . ^ Lamentations of Satan, Part 2, p. 154. * See p. 141. * Miss Eliza Sanderson and Miss Eliza Falkland. 256 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. there. She is seated on my mind in the same dress, and with the same wistful and piteous coun- tenance, in which she appeared when she first made her request to me." The earliest preserved letter of 18 13 is that dated January 6th.' " I am now very Year 1813. feeble and old," says Huntington, "and yet bring forth fruit in old age. The Papists " — for the advances made by Romanism continued to trouble him — " are now making their greatest, and I believe last, struggle. The out- ward court of the Established Church will be given them." In the previous year had occurred the retreat from Moscow, nevertheless Huntington still feared that Napoleon would do mischief to our country, and in one of his day dreams he set up a throne in Moscow, had Bonaparte before him, and ordered a pole to be put out of the Kremlin win- dow to hang him thereon.^ Then, indignant with his fears, on account both of the Papists and Napoleon, and of his lack of faith in an omnipotent God, he cried out against himself, bewailing the earthly, sensual, and devilish wisdom that prompted these pictures.^ His letter of 8th February is in his old and best style. "Whenever God sends trouble or afflic- 1 p. L. I, p. 293. 2 p. L. 3, p. 203 (17th Jan., 1813). 8 His letters to Mrs. Thomas Hooper of Feb. 28th, and to Joseph Chamberlain of April 12th and May loth (P. L. i, pp. 405 — 416) are on the same theme. Those great characteristics of Popery, its undying energy and its tenacity of purpose, troubled him to the very end. ■t* HUNTINGTON'S TOMB, AT THE BACK OF JIREH CHAPEL, LEWES. From a Photo by Mr. Richard Hayler, Lewes. 3^ . Ml >,.„.^ v_v r .««l m^'i^ -« >^i f m , "i s' s a^ » i a 1 LADY SANDERSON'S TOMB, AT THE BACK OF " MY LADy's COTTAGE," CRANBROOK. From a Photo by Mr. C. Good, Cranbrook. PENTONVILLE. 257 tions," he says, " it is to furnish us for confession and prayer. . . . What comes from Him must lead us to Him. My hand shakes sadly. Dame sends her love with your old friend.'" In the last letter to Mrs. Waddelow he is still buoyed up by the doctrine of election, which he had life through^ so eloquently proclaimed. " The work," he says, " is all His own ; we can do nothing towards it. Under all His work we are passive as clay in the hand of the potter, while He forms us a people for Himself to show forth His praise ; and we are not our own : therefore I say, wait on.'"* Writing to Mrs. Turner on i8th February, 1813, Lady Sanderson says: " In consequence of hearing our beloved and valuable friend^ say that he had never forgotten you one day since we had the sweet satisfaction of receiving you here, I write to request you will inform us what success has been obtained ; whether prayer has been answered in the way you hoped, by your foot being better, and whether you can walk with more ease to yourself. . . . Mr. Huntington's ministry has been made a great blessing to me, for under him I got the first ray of hope I ever had. . . . The Doctor unites with me in love to you and Mr. Turner. We often talk of you. I felt a union of soul with you the moment we met — a oneness that is better felt 1 p. L. 4, p. 361. « p. L. 4, p. 363 (nth Feb.. 1813). • She invariably referred to her husband in this odd way. S 258 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. than can be described. I should like to know how you felt towards me. I know God has made your heart honest, and therefore you dare not deceive me."^ Huntington's letter to the Rev. Isaac Beeman, written perhaps on 24th December, 181 2, opens with the trumpet blast, " Happy, thrice happy, are we who have the God of Jacob for our help, who makes us wonders to the world, the admiration of angels, and riddles to ourselves. I am now an old man, and yet a new creature; I totter and tremble, and yet am a brazen wall and an iron fence; nothing but frailty, and yet possess everlasting strength. . . . The Kentish man sends to the man of Kent the compliments of the season, to wit, a comfortable Christmas and a peaceable New Year."^ On February 26th Huntington wrote to Samuel Berry; on February 28th to Mary Hooper, "Philo- mela;" and on April 12th and May loth to Joseph Chamberlain. * The Gospel Advocate, 1872, p. 58. »G.V..p.445. CHAPTER XVI 25TH MAY, 1813 1ST JULY, 1813 THE TWILIGHT OF SARDIS Day after day Huntington grew weaker, and he was himself firmly convinced that his end was near. After his return from the ^|t H^rnfes^^ usual Wednesday service on May 25th, "^ n^il^ he said, while Miss Falkland was help- ing him off with his coat, " Betsy, my work is nearly done ; a few times more and all will be over." She said, " No, sir, I hope not." " You may depend upon it, it is so," he con- tinued. " Oh, how I long to see my blessed Saviour ! What a glorious prospect is now before me — to be with Him where my faith has been fixed these forty years." Thenceforward he appeared dead to everything in which he had taken pleasure. The trees which he had planted, and whose growth in the spring he had so anxiously watched, he no longer noticed. His hothouse, in which he had spent so much time, he rarely entered. His conduct to those about him continued kind and affectionate, but he entirely lost that jocular familiarity, wit, and humorous turn which were characteristic of him. He fre- 26o LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. quently sat silent for hours in his study with Lady Sanderson, and when he opened his lips, it was to make an observation in reference to the goodness of God to him. At the end of May both the Rev. Samuel Turner and the Rev. Joseph Chamberlain once more paid visits " to dear Mr. Huntington." The former left on June ist,^ but the latter stayed for several weeks. On June 6th Huntington conducted what proved to be his last Sunday service. He preached in the morning from i Cor. viii. 3 : " But if any man love God, the same is known of him ; " and he spoke with deep feeling. In the afternoon he delivered, from a temporary pulpit on the chapel floor, a beautiful address on the institution and design of the Lord's Supper. Having administered himself, he turned round and said, with the cup in his hand, "You will not have the Coalheaver long, and when I am gone you will not have another ; I shall take my light with me." These words were evidently prompted by the belief that there was no person capable of succeeding him ; and that at his death his people would disperse — a premonition which proved correct. He then slowly took both elements to a large number of communicants — thirty-six at a time — the number the table pew accommodated. Owing to weakness he had to sit and rest twice while two 1 "The day month," Mr. Turner afterwards added in his text-book, " before he went to glory." [Huntington died on July ist, 1813.] Gospel Advocate, 1872, p. 51. THE TWILIGHT OF SARDIS. 261 verses of a hymn were sung, and then he spoke on the love of God. " Oh," he said, " if you did but know how great my enjoyments have been " — here he stopped short to administer a sharp reproof. " Some of you," he went on, " wish for comfort, but not to live accordingly. I feel my work is almost done ; but come life ! come death ! I am builded on the Rock, Christ.'" It was noticed that he had never been more cheerful or seemed so happy. After the elements had been delivered to all, he ascended the pulpit and blessed and praised God for His mercies to them as a church. On Wednesday evening, June gth, he closed his long and honourable service by an able discourse from Rev. iii. 3. Speaking with energy and solemnity, he reviewed what he declared to be the fundamental doctrines of Christianity,'' and urged his hearers to hold fast to them. Then he turned to the country in general : ** O Sardis," he said, " thy leaders cause thee to err, and destroy the way of thy paths. The Arian, the Socinian, and the Sabellian deny the true God, and so retain nothing but the idols of their own fancy." All through life he had impressed on his hearers and correspondents the paramount importance of watch- ing the hand of God. " Watch His hand in provi- 1 spiritual Magazine and Zion's Casket, 1839, p. 57. Recollections of the late Rev. W. Huntington (article by Cornelius Tozer). ' Belief in (i) a Trinity of Persons in the Godhead ; (2) the Divinity of Christ ; (3) Election ; (4) Particular Redemption ; (5) Justification by Faith ; (6) the Inhabitation of the Spirit and Regeneration by Him. See Rom. \-iii. 9 ; also The Spiritual Magazine, 1839, p. 78. 262 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. dence," he said in this last sermon, " for as He has said that He will make all His goodness pass before us, so, if we are not careful to observe His mercies when they come, we shall never acknowledge them with gratitude and thankfulness to God's honour. When we pray we must watch unto prayer, that the answers may not be overlooked."' He closed his discourse with the solemn remark, " For my part I have always been determined to keep back nothing from you, but to declare unto you the whole counsel of God ; therefore " (and with great emphasis he beat his hand upon the pulpit cushion — an unusual action, as we have already noticed) " I am clear from the blood of you all."^ His congregation were deeply moved. Among those present were Christopher Goulding, Cornelius Tozer — both of whom took the sermon down in shorthand — the Rev. Samuel Turner, the Rev. Thomas Burgess, John Eedes, John Keyt, and other good men, to whom we have already referred in these pages. William Stevens was unable to be there, but Keyt and a friend walked to Stevens's house to tell him about the sermon ; and they expressed their sorrowful belief that they had heard their beloved pastor for the last time. On June loth Huntington's son Gad, Mr. and Mrs. Over, and Mr. Edward Aldridge repaired to Hermes House, and all were impressed by the ' See also advice to Mrs. Golden, p. 76. * This sermon was published under the title of Final Exhortations. THE TWILIGHT OF SARDIS. 263 tranquillity of Huntington's mind and his cheerful and affectionate manner. Next day he rose early as usual, but was shortly after seized with symp- toms indicative of great danger. While his friends were endeavouring to warm his feet, he said, "These feet have carried me many miles to preach the gospel of Christ." On Saturday, June 12th, Mr. and Mrs. Blake' called to see him, but were informed that " the doctor did not wish him to be disturbed." This caused them deep concern, and other members of the family who enquired after him were told the same. Next day he was unable to leave his room, and the Rev. Algar Lock, who occupied the pulpit, alluded touchingly to his illness. The people listened in silence to these ominous words ; and their hearts sank within them. He felt better on Monday, and the improvement continued till Friday. On that day, following his custom, he rose at four in the morning, in order to pursue his studies, but at seven he was taken worse ; and the constant calls respecting his health so disturbed the household that Lady Sanderson, in order to secure quiet both for him and herself, determined to remove him into the country ; and she decided upon Tunbridge Wells. His carriage was ready for him at six o'clock on the morning of June i8th ; but owing to his weakness it was with great or Buts." j-rr 111 11 • ^ July 1,1813. dimculty that he could get mto it. On ' Rath Huntington. 264 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. the way he expressed to Lady Sanderson his con- viction that he should never return, and added, " I begged God before I quitted the house that I never might. My work is finished. I have laboured hard for forty years, and I have been enabled to declare the whole counsel of God." Owing to his exhaustion there were frequent stoppages, and the travellers' arrived not at Tun- bridge Wells till the following day.^ On Monday, June 2ist, Mr. Joseph Morris and Mr. Thomas Marchant went over from Lewes to see him. " He appeared greatly altered in his person," says Morris.^ " He told us that under no previous affliction had he been indulged with any sensible enjoyment, but was left to grapple alone. The reverse hath now been the case, he having been favoured for five days successively with a sweet calmness of mind, followed by sweet visits from the Most High, which meekened and melted his soul into contrition. While we were there his con- versation was particularly glorious, and appeared more than mortal. I never before experienced the like gracious and heavenly language from the lips of anyone." In a will which Huntington had made on 17th January, 1810, he expressed the wish to be buried 1 With Huntington and Lady Sanderson was their maid, Ann Spring- thorp, "Nanny." She afterwards married Huntington's coachman, Peter. * The house which they took, and in which Huntington died, is now called " Somerville," No. 79 Mount Ephraim. 8 Unpublished letter to Mr. W. Hudson, of Manchester, June 24th, 1813. THE TWILIGHT OF SARDIS. 265 by the side of his friend Jenkins. He assigned the chapel to trustees for the benefit of the congrega- tion worshipping in it ; he left to Lady Sanderson the various sums (amounting to about ^^8,000) which he had received with her, and which he had never touched ; to his daughter Naomi a house, and to his other children various small legacies. That Huntington's children had received consider- able sums of money during their father's lifetime we have already mentioned. It was nothing but fair that Lady Sanderson's money should be un- touched ; and as for himself, it was clear that, owing to his generosity, he would have, when his debts were paid, very little to leave anybody. In his last illness, influenced by Lady Sanderson, whose action is incapable of defence, he made another will, in which he refers, not without bitter- ness, to the incapacity of his sons and the sums of money which had slipped through their hands ; but the most amazing part of the will was that the income of the chapel was bequeathed to Lady Sanderson, with the request that she should settle the chapel for the use of the congregation, and pay his successor ;f 200 a year. Sir William Hay and Sir Ludlow Harvey were appointed executors. It is evident from the provisions of this will — which, to the credit of Huntington, was never signed — that Lady Sanderson, allowing her love for money to shoulder aside her sense of justice, had taken unfair advantage of a dying man. 266 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. Indeed, to a friend who called on him, Huntington said, " I have had nothing but law and physic ever since I have been at Tunbridge Wells, and my soul is sick of it." When, however, his sufferings became acute, and all likelihood of his recovery passed away, the financier once more subsided into the wife, and she forgot will clauses in her anxiety to do the utmost for her husband. " You have suffered acutely," she said one day to him. " I had worse pains once," he replied, " with a burning ague, not ^ a bed to lie on, and without an earthly comfort ; but now I have every blessing in providence to alleviate my sufferings." On another occasion he said, " My heart over- flows with the goodness of God, and I lament being unable to find epithets sufficiently expressive to describe to others the sense I have of it." Death presented to him no grisly terrors. " All lies straight before me," he said ; " there are no * ifs ' nor ' buts." I am as sure of heaven as if I were in it." After complaining of the opposition he had met with throughout the whole of his ministry, and the hatred which he had experienced, he turned to Lady Sanderson and said, " Take a pen and write my epitaph." And at his dictation she wrote : " Here lies the Coalheaver, beloved of his God, but abhorred of men. The omniscient Judge, at the great assize, shall ratify and confirm this, to » Cf. Hart's Hymns, No. 70, verse 8: "Buts, ifs, and hows are hurl'd." THE TWILIGHT OF SARDIS. 267 the confusion of many thousands ; for England and its metropolis shall know that there hath been a prophet among them." On Monday, 28th, he seemed to be sinking, and Lady Sanderson sent for her daughter and Miss Falkland, who arrived next day. He greeted them affectionately and kissed them. On Wednesday Mr. Thomas Bensley and Mr. John Over called to see him, and when they entered the room, Mr. Bensley said, " I am glad, sir, to see you look so comfortable." "Why should I look otherwise?" said Hunting- ton. " Death with me has lost its sting these forty years. I am no more afraid of death than I am of my nightcap." A little later arrived Mr. Blake and Huntington's daughters, Mrs. Blake and Mrs. Burrell. ** No one," says Mrs. Blake, " can express the sensations we felt on entering the room but those who have experienced the like. We clasped our arms round his neck and kissed him, but we were scarcely able to speak." He returned their caresses, made particular en- quiries after the family, and asked how they came and where they intended to sleep, adding, " Why did not you come here first, that we might have procured you private lodgings ? " Mr. Blake having expressed the hope that he would recover, he shook his head and said, " My constitution is broken up." 268 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. " Dear father," said Mrs. Blake, her eyes be- dimmed with tears, " I wish I could follow you, as that is all I desire." He replied, " Keep here, and you will not lose your hire." Though he had been very ill all day, nevertheless in the evening he appeared better, and said he would sit up to supper, for he felt an appetite. He asked the usual blessing in a weak and trembling voice, but in a solemn and impressive manner. During the meal, which he seemed to enjoy, he conversed with his usual cheerfulness and tran- quillity, dwelling on his mercies and his joy in death. When speaking of his church and congre- gation, he alluded especially to those who, in storm as well as in sunshine, had stedfastly abided by his ministry, and said that the blessing of God would ever rest upon them. Then came the time for parting. " We drew nearer to him," said Mrs. Blake, " as it was with difficulty we could hear him, he being so weak and his mouth parched with fever; after which he made a motion for some water, which was im- mediately given him by Mr. Blake. He stretched out his hands, laying one on my sister and the other on me, and said, 'You are my dear children, and I am glad to see you.' It being near his time of rest we took our leave of him ; he kissed us and gave us his blessing, and we parted never to meet him again in this world. He followed us with his eye; and, bowing, we withdrew." THE TWILIGHT OF SARDIS. 269 Before retiring to rest he spoke affectionately to Lady Sanderson, and thanked her for her unre- mitting attentions to him, declaring that ever since he had known her he had found her uniformly the same — kind, faithful, and affectionate. Miss Falk- land sat up with him that night, and in the morning there was a change for the worse. Lady Sander- son, Miss Sanderson, his solicitor (Mr. Stone), and one of his hearers, a Mr. Morgan, stayed by his side all day. Towards evening he appeared to feel intense raptures. When Mr. Morgan moistened his lips, he said, "God bless you, sir; I thank you, and bless His holy name." Towards evening he said, " Oh, bless His precious name! " and a little later, " Why is His chariot so long in coming ? " He then tried to raise himself in order to address those about him, but finding he could not articulate, he quietly laid himself down again. A terrific storm raged during his last moments, and the slanting hail pitilessly lashed the window- panes. He turned his head to listen. " The noise," said Mr. Morgan, " is caused by the hail." The dying man turned his head back and tried to speak. Lady Sanderson, on bending her ear to his mouth, heard him say, " Bless His precious name ! " Then he gave a sigh, and all was over. As his soul escaped from between his lips,' one of those present uttered the words of the psalmist, " Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright ; 1 One of Huntington's own expressions. See Ben. Vol. 9, p. 327. ^^o LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. for the end of that man is peace." It was twenty minutes to nine on July ist, 1813. Huntington was sixty-eight years and five months. The heavy tidings were rapidly carried to every corner of the country. The way they were received by Huntington's people may be judged by their effect on one of them — Cornelius Tozer. " Oh ! what solemn news! Oh ! what a severe loss!" he cried, and he kept repeating these words as he went silently about his work, weeping and endeavouring to hide his tears from those about him. " As soon as I could get to my home," he says, " I told the melancholy news to my wife ; we sat down, and for two hours gave vent to our grief. I have lost father, mother, two brothers, two sisters, and one child, but I never felt grief so real as I did at the death of our spiritual pastor." It was decided that Huntington, consonant with his repeatedly expressed wish, should ■^°G peat and ^e buried by the side of his friend Lamentaticm. J^i^kins in the graveyard at the back of Jireh Chapel, Lewes ; and the funeral took place on Thursday, July 8th. The procession, which consisted of a hearse with six horses, seven mourning coaches, and a great number of other vehicles, extended over a mile in length. So many carriages indeed had been hired in London that the streets were denuded, and strangers enquired the reason of the unwonted quiet and dulness. Huntington's sons and daughters followed as chief THE TWILIGHT OF SARDIS. 271 mourners ; Lady Sanderson, Miss Sanderson, and Miss Falkland came next, in her ladyship's own carriage ; then came carriages containing Hunt- ington's friends and members of his congregation. Multitudes attended on foot. From time to time as the slow, enormous, and tortuous procession defiled along the dusty roads between the tall hedgerows and under the burning July sun, the soft music of old hymns, sung to old tunes — an unpremeditated and unlaboured dirge — rose and fell and rose again. Every village was lined with wondering spectators. And so the body of the inflexible old evangelist was conveyed by a sorrow- ing people — though none knew better than they that there was no reason for sorrow save on account of their own loss — to its final destination — the vault at Lewes. The interment took place, in accordance with Huntington's express wish, amid absolute silence. Until late in the evening an unbroken stream of mourners filed to and from the grave. There were insufficient provisions to satisfy the multitudes who crowded into the town, and numbers of persons fasted against their will. In the evening the Rev. Joseph Chamberlain preached in the chapel, taking as his text Isa. Ivii. 2 : "He shall enter into peace;" and on the following Sunday he preached at Providence Chapel to Huntington's bereaved and sorrowing flock. There must have been 2,000 present, all of whom were in deep mourning ; but 272 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. in compliance with Huntington's peremptory direc- tions the pulpit was not hung with black, and no reference whatever was made to him. And per- haps this terrible silence — a silence that made individuals feel as though they must cry out — caused the void to seem to the afflicted congrega- tion even vaster than it would otherwise have seemed. In any case, their life had been inextric- ably bound up with his life. They were for a time as a people stunned. They mourned "with a great and very sore lamentation." When after a season they had arrived in that acquiescent state into which all Christians eventually enter after severe trials, they erected in their chapel a hand- some marble tablet to their dead pastor, and in- scribed upon it the epitaph dictated by himself a few days prior to his death. The memorial no longer exists, but the same words may be read on his tomb' at Lewes. 1 The following persons are commemorated on the monument : — (i) Thomas Marchant, died 2nd Feb., 1832, and his wife, Ann, who died 2nd Feb, 1847. (2) Ttiomas Hooper, died 27th May, 1836, and his wife, Mary [Philomela], who died 29th Oct., 1833. (3) Rev. J. Jenkins, died 1st Sept., 1810. (4) Rev. W. Huntington. (5) Rev. John Vinall, died 3rd Mar., i860. *af ^ ^ o •- O Q IS w < d o « z ** Q ' Short after her union with Hunt- ington, it is clear that he regards her simply as Huntington's mistress. Huntington's declaration that they were married evidently has no weight with Mr. Rigg. Others, taking their cue from this article, have formulated the charge in so many words, but there is absolutely no ground for it except the fact that Huntington nowhere mentions in what church the ceremony took place. For the benefit of Mr. Rigg and other astute persons who imply or directly make this charge, we may observe that Huntington nowhere mentions where or when his mother died, therefore, following the same line of argument, she did not die, and consequently is ' of ballad literature — and many old ballads refer to Huntington — Macaulay was a collector. 288 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. still living. Her age being over 200, she is qualified for an old age pension ; and for her son's sake I hope she will get it. Secondly, Mr. Rigg says that Mary Short's death was *' hastened by gin and chagrin, induced by a scandalous intimacy " which Huntington formed with Lady Sanderson. That Mrs. Hunt- ington's death was caused by indulgence in strong drink everybody knows, but, as I have already shown, the trouble began at least fifteen years before Huntington met Lady Sanderson. " The phrase, 'scandalous intimacy,' " observes Mr. T. B. Lock,' " is somewhat ambiguous, but if it means that there was any immoral intimacy between the two, there is no evidence of it in the authorities quoted. The hostile comments written at the time of Huntington's death are silent on the subject, certainly not because of tenderness for his memory. It may be that Lady Sanderson visited Huntington more frequently than she ought, and it may have been indiscreet of him to go long journeys in her carriage, but is this sufficient evidence on which to charge a titled lady and a popular preacher with committing adultery ? It was all done openly in the sight of the world, which is not the way adul- terers usually act." Now let us study the workings of Mr. Rigg's mind, and see how he arrived at his truly wonderful conclusions. 1 Shoe and Leather Record, i6th Oct., 1896. HUNTINGTON'S TRADUCERS. 289 1. The entry of a woman's marriage cannot be found. Therefore, she was not married, and must be called by her maiden name. 2. A Christian lady very kindly takes an old minister, who is bowed with infirmities, in her carriage when he goes on his ministerial journeys. Therefore, she has formed a scandalous intimacy with him. To a plain man this conveys the meaning that in Mr. Rigg's opinion adultery was committed. 3. Mrs. Huntington had been drinking hard for at least fifteen years before Huntington met Lady Sanderson. Thi^, even the published letters reveal. They also reveal that for years she had been marked for death ; and there is nothing whatever to associate Mrs. Huntington's name with Lady Sanderson's except the tittle-tattle of a servant. Therefore, Mrs. Huntington's end was hastened by the scandalous intimacy of her husband with Lady Sanderson. What perspicacity ! What reasoning! That is how Mr. Rigg writes biography. From Mr. Rigg and his wonderful logic one naturally passes to The Shoe and Leather Record of 27th December, 1895.' No. 27 of a series of articles on " Celebrated Shoemakers," which ap- peared in that periodical, is devoted to William Huntington. The writer, in his simplicity, accepts 1 Replied to in Gospel Advocate, March. 1896, by Mr. David Jarvis. A second article, " More about Huntington," appeared in Shoe and Leather Record, 24th July, 1896. It was replied to by Mr. T. B. Lock in same paper, i6th Oct., 1896, and by Rev. A. J. Baxter in The Gospel Advocate, Nov., 1896. 290 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. every foolish tale, every word said by any man however discredited, every piece of false reasoning — everything in fact that seems to tell against William Huntington ; and having raked together all his rubbish, he constructs for us a figure as lecherous as a Casanova or a mediaeval pope. To quote this discerning writer, " He " — that is to say, Huntington — " was an indifferent kind of person in all of his many occupations. He was bad from the beginning. . . . He had all the instincts of a vagabond even as a child, and was endued with every one of his father's evil qualities. . . . Young Hunt when he became famous wrote some highly imaginative accounts of his early life, in which all his escapades are glossed over as very trivial errors of youth.' . . . He changed his name to Huntington, became a gar- dener, and formed an illegitimate connection with a young woman named Mary Short. . . . When he was foodless he amused himself by declaiming to his companions on the iniquity of their lives. . . . He was a hypocrite all the time, and turned to religion merely as a livelihood in which he could utilise his undoubted natural abilities. . . . He provided for Mary and her children, and devoted himself to immorality amongst people of higher degree. Among Huntington's congregation was Lady Sanderson, the widow of a Lord Mayor. 1 He did not gloss over them, he gave them the ugliest possible names, he made no excuses, and he repented in dust and ashes. HUNTINGTON'S TRADUCERS. 291 He seduced her' and ultimately married her. . . . His career, he used to say, was no worse than that of some of the saints of the Old Testament, but there was this difference, that while the saints of the Bible were really ' converted,' and repented, Huntington pretended conversion to cover his sin and make money out of his iniquity." It is easy to understand how the writer came to construct this terrible bogey. As his article appeared in Decem- ber it must have been composed (for editors always pigeon-hole these things) about November the 5th, and so we have, not " old Guy Fawkes," of honoured memory, but " old Parson Sack," with his hat awry, his clothes ill-fitting, his toes turned in, and his generally tipsy air — a figure inspired not by history, which contains no figure that has the slightest resemblance to it, but by some scare-crow that happened at the time to be parading the street. The charges made by this writer are, as will be seen, merely a rechauffe of those made by persons with whom we have already dealt. On this account refutation is unnecessary, but they were at the time very ably refuted by Mr. David Jarvis, Mr. T. B. Lock, and the Rev. A, J. Baxter. Living, as I do, in a shoe-making town, and loving, as I do, a shoe- maker, whether he is or is not an adept in scare- crow making, I have a kindness for The Shoe and Leather Record. I would, therefore, suggest to the * The old, old calumny. The writer makes no attempt to investigate for himself. 292 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. editor that he try again next November (after drawing his blinds to shut out the procession), and give us another representation of Huntington — something a Httle nearer to Hfe, a Httle more engaging. Why, indeed, befoul his own nest ? There have been many great shoemakers, as all who have studied the history of the craft can tes- tify, but none greater, none more worthy to be held in honour than William Huntington. Southey, as we have seen, called Huntington "an inferior quack" ; Macaulay called Boswell " a great fool " ; so-and-so called somebody else something else. It really does not much matter. The sea is always casting up froth and mire. Crabbe's jealousy, Macaulay's ignorance or wanton perversion of facts, Mathews's mendacity, Southey's rancour, Mr, Rigg's astuteness. The Shoe and Leather Record's simplicity, taken severally or taken in combination, all amount to nothing. You might as well try to write down William Huntington as to write down Skiddaw or Helvellyn. CHAPTER XVIII HUNTINGTON'S APPRECIATORS It is pleasant to turn from Huntington's traducers to his appreciators. Among 1 ^^ r ^ i x-. 84. Romaine the earnest of these was the Rev. and WiUiam Romaine, Rector of St. Andrew Wardrobe and St. Ann's, Blackfriars. " God," observed Romaine, " raises up such men as John Bunyan and Wilham Huntington but once in a century." The opinion of John Sterling, the friend of Carlyle, may fitly follow. " I read last night," says Sterling,' " a small volume by W. Hunting- ton, S.S., called Heaven Taken by Prayer. Seldom have I been more astonished ; all my impressions of him having been derived from a dimly remem- bered and most scurrilous and coxcombical article of Southey's in the Quarterly Review, and from an anecdote quoted out of Mathews the comedian's life' — which, on such an authority, I do not credit. This little book shows him as the worthy compeer of Bunyan, and there is hardly anyone in history whose sincerity I could less easily doubt. His narrative is one of the most deeply affecting and heart-seizing I ever saw; and he seems to me to be * a Cobbett with a conscience.' In that additional idea, by the way, what a world of difference lies ! The book would have charmed Coleridge." * Letter in Hare's Life of Sterling. . * See p. 281. 294 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. Another ardent admirer of Huntington was the 85 Rev Sam- ^^^v. Samuel Adams, Vicar ofThornton. uei Adams, He savs : " For the last two years of Vicar of -^ -^ Thornton, his ministry I attended Providence and Rev. Dr. Doudney, Chapel with my father. Every Sun- Lukes, day and Wednesday evening I heard him, and, consquently, heard his last remark- able and solemn sermon, which I shall never forget. I have collected all things Huntington published, and every scrap, sentence, and letter I could respecting him. Someone published a small pamphlet after his death, called The Voice of Years] I consider it a most unjust and unfair statement." The Rev. Dr. Doudney, Vicar of St. Luke's, Bedminster, said of Huntington : " He had his faults. He possessed a bad natural temper — and that temper was greatly wrought upon by the base manner in which he was treated by the general professors of his day ; but ' the Coalheaver ' was nevertheless one of the boldest and most signally favoured champions that have lived since the days of the apostles." " Few men," says the cultured and scholarly Rev. J. C. Philpot, " have had to en- Phiipot!'M.A!i counter such a storm of contempt, ^^coie^and''' slander, enmity, and opposition as for Rev. A. J. many years fell to the lot of the maligned Coalheaver. But if he were 1 At one time Fellow of Worcester College, Oxford, and for twenty years (1849 — 1869) Editor of The Gospel Standard. His Letters, with Memoir, were issued in 1871 ; his Reviews, 2 vols., in 1901. Both are delightful and valuable works. HUNTINGTON'S APPRECIATORS. 295 thus despised and hated by enemies, he was pro- portionately loved and esteemed by his hearers and friends, and by many almost, if not quite, to idolatry. Indeed there was much in the man, independent of the grace that rested upon him, and his wonderful gifts in the ministry, to make him the centre and object of the greatest esteem and affection. He was gifted with a noble, liberal mind. Though born and bred in a low state, yet he was one of nature's gentlemen ; and we have heard from those who intimately knew him that there was a dignity in his person, manners, and appearance, which commanded respect.'" After referring to the slanders of Southey, Mr. Philpot proceeds : " It is not worth while, however, to dwell further upon this elaborate attempt to brand the character of a man, whom not to revere and admire, as one of the most gifted and most gracious servants of God, is to proclaim our ignorance of that grace which made him what he was. It may, perhaps, however, not be wholly uninteresting to take a glance at what may be considered some of the leading causes of this marked, this lasting enmity against so great and good a man, one so exemplary in life, so powerful in mental capacity, so vigorous, and yet so original in his mode of handling his pen ; combining the keenest wit and humour with a variety and some- times an eloquence of expression that stamp him, * Reviews, Vol. 2, pp. 632, 633. 296 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. in our judgment, as one of the greatest writers in the Enghsh language."' These causes, in Mr. Philpot's opinion, were : 1. His low extraction, "which, with all its attend- ant circumstances, served to raise to a high pitch the contempt and enmity of the educated classes." 2. His calling and occupation. And yet, as Mr. Philpot points out, there was no great distance between Peter with his nets and his hands slimy with fish and Huntington with his coal sack and his hands begrimed with coal dust. 3. The fact of his having published The Bank of Faith. 4. The Doctrines and Experience held and enforced by him, which were detested by mere professors of religion. 5. His attitude towards Jacobinism, which alienated many Nonconformists. 6. His singular influence with his congregation. " The world would not have minded if he had exercised his gift for the ministry among twenty or thirty people in a small town ; but that he should occupy a prominent position at the West End, have a large chapel and a crowded congrega- tion, and that when the chapel was burnt down, another and a larger one should be at once erected, and that such respect, veneration, atten- tion, and almost worship should be shown him, this was what the world could not bear." * Reviews, Vol. i., p. 545. HUNTINGTON'S APPRECIATORS. 297 7. The grace of God which was in him. " None of these circumstances, or all combined, would have drawn down upon him such a load of odium and contempt had he not possessed, in an eminent degree, the grace of God." This it was, declares Mr. Philpot, that tended more than anything else to stir up against him all the powers of evil. The Rev. Dr. Henry Cole,' translator of the Works of Luther and Calvin, after referring to Huntington as " that great and blessed servant of the Most High," says : " I believe he bore and left in Britain the greatest and most glorious testimony to the power of God's salvation that ever was borne or left therein." No one has written more valuably on Hunting- ton than the Rev. A. J. Baxter, of Eastbourne. The Gospel Advocate^'' of which he was editor, is crowded with appreciative allusions to the great preacher and teacher. " There are hundreds," says Mr. Baxter, " who will both speak and write with respect of such men of God as Owen, Bunyan, Romaine, Berridge and Newton who would recoil at the mention of the name of Huntington. And why ? Because his conduct was less consistent than theirs? No: but because in depth, closeness, and discrimination of vital ' Of Clare College, Cambridge. 2 I would also draw the attention of the reader to an article entitled, " Signs of the Times," Gospel Advocate, 1896. p. 383; and to another in the same volume, p. 83, " Huntington and his Traducers," by David Jarvis. A writer in The Gospel Advocate for 1895 (pp. 275 and 330) calls Joseph Hart, James Hervey, Augustus Toplady and William Huntington " The Four Carpenters " of the i8th century— in allusion to Zee. i. 20. 298 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. realities he excelled them all ; and was therefore the least comprehended — i Cor. ii. 15." — Gospel Advocate, 1872, pp. 27 — 31. Mr. Richard Heath's charming volume, The English Peasant, published by Unwin in ^^ard H^ath ^893, contains an original and though t- wVstyies' ^^^ article on Huntington. " Long as the English language lasts," says Mr. Heath, " may the first part of the Bank of Faith find a place on the British labourer's shelves ; and better still, may its sublime trust in the power of prayer be engraved on his heart. As to The King- dom of Heaven, it will, when the prejudice against his name has quite evaporated, come to be regarded as one of the most interesting pieces of spiritual autobiography the Church possesses." From the incisive and intensely sympathetic study of William Huntington, contributed to The Earthen Vessel^ by the Rev. W. Jeyes Styles, I have already quoted. In the concluding paragraph of this study, Mr. Styles says of Huntington, " His power proceeded from his wonderful know- ledge of the Scripture, his simplicity and clearness of expression, his calm and unaffected delivery, and the earnestness which throbbed and pulsed in his every utterance. The secret of success in the pulpit he knew lay in close and constant com- munion with God; and he was so much in the company of the Well-beloved, all of whose * gar- * Aug., 1905, to Dec, 1906. HUNTINGTON'S APPRECIATORS. 299 merits smell of myrrh, aloes, and cassia,' that the aroma of these clung to him and perfumed his whole ministry." " The revered William Huntington," says the Rev. T. W. Tobitt, " must be gratefully ■' -^ 88. The Rev. numbered among the valuable ascen- J. w. Tobitt sion gifts of Christ to His Church."' Rev. John e. " For more than twenty years," says the Rev. John E. Hazelton, "I have been a reader of Huntington's works, and am more impressed than ever with their freshness and power. There is nothing archaic about his style — it is terse, flexible, and pellucid ; and it not infrequently rises to superb eloquence. The twenty-eight volumes bearing his name constitute a treasury of Scrip- tural truth with which I should be sorry indeed to part. In so vast an output there is, of necessity, inequality, but in my opinion his works, as a whole, are the best and most readable treatises upon experimental religion that have been written. Huntington had a profound knowledge of the Word of God and of the human heart ; he was especially great in treating of the work of the Holy Spirit, as hig Contemplations on the God of Israel nobly testify. Dark or misunderstood pas- sages of Scripture are frequently lighted up with splendour as in sermon or letter he pursues his way. The secret of his wonderful ministry and of the beauty and worth of his best books is to be found in his communion with God. In seclusion, » See Eph. iv. 8. 300 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. in prayer and meditation, on bended knees and with streaming e3^es and a broken heart he pleaded with his Lord for the souls of those to whom he proclaimed, by voice or pen, the gospel of his l blessed God." :( A writer in The Gospel Magazine, October, 1850, says : " Huntington's writings have proved an in- valuable blessing to the Church of God ; those only who have travelled through the deeps in which he passed can properly feel their greatness or see their beauty. All who love and have experienced in their souls the truths of God will love and value this great man's works." But, after all, the best testimony to Huntington's worth was the character and conduct of his regular hearers — of the thousands who thronged the chapels in Titchfield Street and Grays Inn Lane. j William Stevens knew many of them, and he has left on record that their " conversation was most spiritual and heavenly." " I have known many," i he further observes, " who in their last hours have | blessed God for what He had done for their souls I by Huntington's ministry. I never knew of one ; who did or could bear a contrary testimony." Mr. Cleeve W. Hooper, writing in 1872,' said he had listened to the "edifying conversation of those godly people who used to attend Providence Chapel," and he could bear testimony that there were few at the time he was writing "so spiritually minded, so richly taught." 1 Gospel Advocate, 1872, p. 128. CHAPTER XIX HUNTINGTON'S DESCENDANTS AND FRIENDS By his first wife Huntington had thirteen children, of whom seven survived him ^ 1111 89. Hunting- — tour sons and three daughters — tons children namely, Ruth, who married James Blake, a leather-seller ; Naomi, who married first Mr. Wayte, a butcher, and afterwards Mr. Joseph Francis Burrell,' an artist, afterwards a minister ; Gad, a saddler, afterwards a minister, who died gth September, 185 1, aged 73; Ebenezerj a book- seller, who died ist March, 182 1, aged 42; William, a harness maker ; Lois, married to Mr. W. Clark, a cabinetmaker ; and Benjamin.^ Lady Sanderson survived her husband only four years. She died at Tunbridge Wells, gth November, 18 17, aged 52, and she ^°' Lady^ °^ was buried in the corner of " an apple imov"9j'1° 7. orchard" belonging to " My Lady's Cot- tage "^ at Hazleden Hill. The only mourner was Mr. Robert Burdon, a solicitor, who had married her daughter ; and he read the funeral service at her grave. The spot is marked by a handsome tomb enclosed in iron railings. The inscription I See Cel. Coal., p. 98. ' Mr. Parr, baker, of Throgmorton Street, left Gad. Naomi, and Lois £y>o each, and Benjamin ;^ioo. ^ See p. 160. 302 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. runs : " Within this vault lie the remains of Lady Sanderson, widow of the late Sir James Sanderson, Bart., her first husband, and of the Rev. W. Huntington, S.S., her second. Born August 4th, 1765 ; died in the Lord, November gth, 181 7. ' I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.' Her son and daughter, who sorrow rejoicing, have erected this monument." Of Huntington's personal friends the following survived him : — Mrs. Baker, " Old Peg " (died 1817) ;' Rev. Isaac Beeman (died 1838) ; Rev. Thomas Burgess (died 1824) '^ ^^^- Joseph Cham- berlain (died 1856) ;3 Charles Martin (died 1829) ; Mary, his wife (died 1862) ; William Martin (died 1833) ; Rebecca, his wife (died 1835) ; Rev. Thomas Oxenham (died 1848) ;* Thomas Bensley (died 1835); I^^v. Samuel Turner (died 1854); Mary Hooper, "Philomela" (died 1833); Rev. Henry Birch (died 1857) -■> Rev. John VinalP (died i860). To the congregation at Providence Chapel the death of Huntington was a blow from qt cq^. which it never recovered. Huntington elusion, was succeeded by the Rev. Algar Lock,^ who continued for twenty years, alternately with the Rev. Thomas Burgess, to minister to steadily diminishing numbers. In 1835 the building was secured for the Establishment, and it is now 1 See Facts, Letters, &c., p. 36. 8 See /tf., p. iia. ^ See 7 He died 15th Sept.. 1835. DESCENDANTS AND FRIENDS. 303 St. Bartholomew's Church. The fact that Hunt- ington's enormous congregation disappeared has been pointed to as evidence that immediately after his death his influence began to wane ; but no idea could be more erroneous. The fact proves nothing except that there was nobody gigantic enough to wear his enormous morion or to wield his tremen- dous sword. If his congregation scattered they did not abandon his teaching ; and wherever they went they carried their influence with them, whether into the Establishment or among the Nonconformist bodies; and it is felt to-day, not only in every corner of London — both among Episco- palians and Nonconformists — and in the south- eastern portion of England, which is the special Huntingtonian territory, but also in many other parts of the country and in America. In thousands of homes his name is a household word, his Bank of Faith the most treasured book next to the Bible. As the arts and sciences suffered no harm when the cultured Greeks quitted their country and spread themselves over Europe, so the root- truths that Huntington so eloquently proclaimed — the truths which, unhappily, so many professing Christians have at different times rejected or ignored — are embraced at the present day by a larger and even more tenacious public than they were in his own. And if his hearers had proved faithless, as did probably not an individual of them, he would still have been able to speak — he still does 304 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. speak — through his books. It is impossible to open them without benefit. To hosts they have given new Hfe ; indeed, no man can read them carefully without feeling his faith strengthened and his soul fired with a deeper love to God. The best of them deserve to be read and re-read, and read yet again ; and the choicest passages, of which we have indi- cated many, are worthy of being engraved on im- perishable tablets, and treasured like sapphires of the rocks. APPENDIX LIST OF HUNTINGTON'S WORKS Bensley CoUing- ndge I. 1780 I 2 A Spiritual Sea Voyage. Verse. 2. 1783 2 4 The Arminian Skeleton. 3- 1783 2 I The Naked Bow. 4- 1784 3 I The Bank of Faith, Part I. (See No. 64.) 5- 1784 I I The Kinsfdom of Heaven Taken by Prayer. 6. 1784 2 2 Spiritual Birth. Verse. 7- 1784 3 3 An Innocent Game for Babes in Grace. 8. 1784 2 I The Poor Christian's Last Will and Testament. 9- 1785 5 6 Epistles of Faith, Part I. lO. 8 4 Letters on Ministerial Qualifications. September. II. 1786 3 6 The Law Established by the Faith of Christ. 12. 1786 4 Tidings from Wallingford [Rev. T. Pentycross] . 13- 1786 4 Zion's Alarm. 14. 1787 2 2 A Sermon on the Dimensions of Eternal Love. 15- 1787 Popish Controversy. Letters to and from Miss Morton. 16. 1787 4 2 The Justification of a Sinner and Satan's Lawsuit with him. 17- 1787 4 The Modern Plasterer Detected [Rev. Cottingham] . 18. 1787 7 2 The Shunamite. Verse. 19. 1787 7 2 Music and Odours of the Saints. Sermon, 2nd September, 1787. 20. 1788 7 Free Thoughts in Captivity. (To Rev. James Skinner, of Cranbrook.) 23- 1788 8 24. 1789 8 6 25- 1789 8 6 26. 1789 8 27. 1789 6 6 28. 1789 8 29. 1789 lO 30. I790 9 I 31- I790 9 I 32- I79I 9 I 306 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. Bensley Colling- ridge 21. 1788 7 6 The Servant of the Lord Described. Sermons, February 17th, i8th, 1788. 22. 1788 7 3 Spoils taken from the Tower. (Addressed to James Davidson.) Way and Fare of a Wayfaring Man. A Rule and a Riddle, Part I. A Rule and a Riddle, Part II. The Bond Child brought to the Test. The Coalheaver's Confession. A Lawyer's Complaint. Letter to Rev. Caleb Evans. The History of Little Faith. The Cry of Little Faith. The Broken Cistern and the Spring- ing Well. (To Rev. John Ryland, Senr.) 33. 1791 II Excommunication. (Letter to Rev. John Ryland, Junr., re Mr. John Adams.) 34. 1792 Hieroglyphical Print of the Church of God. 1792 Key to Hieroglyphical Print. 1792 10 The Barber; or, Timothy Priestley Shaved, Part I. 1792 10 5 The Funeral of Arminianism. A sermon, March 2nd. 1792 II The Moral Law not injured by the Gospel. (To Rev. Rowland Hill.) 1792 The Bank of Charity for Reheving the Lord's Poor. 1792 II An Answer to Fools and a Word to the Wise. (To Maria De Fleury.) 1792 10 The Barber; or, Timothy Priestley Shaved, Part II. 1793 12 A Feeble Dispute with a Wise and Learned Man. (To Mr. Joseph Bramah.) 43. 1793 12 Forty Stripes Save None for Satan. (To Rev. William Vessey, of Chatham.) 44. 1794 12 Letter to Rev. Torial Joss. 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 APPENDIX. 307 BensUy CoUing- ridge 794 12 Advocates for Devils Refuted. (To Mr.; E. Winchester.) 794 12 2 The Mystery of Godliness. (To Mr. T. Loud.) 794 13 Living Testimonies, Part L 794 15 5 Moses Unveiled in the Face of God. Sermon, August 12th, 1794. 794 17 4 The Child of Liberty in Legal Bondage. Sermon, September 9th, 1794. 795 17 A Lying Prophet Examined. (Richard Brothers.) 3 Light Shining in Darkness, Part 1. Utility of the Books and Excellency of the Parchments. Sermon, 9th March, 1796. Living Testimonies, Part IL 5 The Breath of the Lord and the Sieve of Vanity. Sermon, Novem- ber 7th, 1797. 6 Epistles of Faith, Part IL 2 The Wise and Foolish Virgins. Two sermons, February, 1797. 798 17 6 Discoveries and Cautions from the Streets of Zion. Sermon, October 22nd, 1798. 798 17 Watchword and Warning. Sermon, Jer. li. 20. 799 18 4 Correspondence between Noctua Aurita and Philomela. 800 18 4 A Portion to Seven and also to Eight. (Addressed to Mr. and Mrs. James Davidson.) 800 19 3 The Loss and Restoration of the Image of God in Man. 801 19 Letter to Joseph Britton, of Down- ham. 802 19 2 Contemplations on the God of Israel. 803 3 I The Bank of Faith, Part II. (see No. 4). 804 20 2 The Destruction of Death by the Fountain of Life. 796 796 15 16 797 797 14 18 797 797 6 17 3o8 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. 66. 1804 Bensley 20 Colling- ndge 5 67. 1804 20 68. 1804 20 3 69. 70. 71- 1806 1806 1806 16 16 3 4 72. 1807 4 73- 1808 4 74- 1808 75- 1809 76. 1809 77- 1809 4 78.) 79- 80. 1809 81. 1809 6 82. 1811 6 83. 1811 6 84. 1811 85. 1811 86. 1811 87. 1812 6 The Joy of Faith in the Shadow of Death. (Wm. Blaker, who died loth December, 1804.) "Onesimus" in the Balance (Garnet Terry). Every Divine Law in the Heart of Christ. Light Shining in Darkness, Part II. The Son of God in Triumph. The Emblems of the Spirit and His Eternal Unction. (To Rev. J. Jenkins and Rev. W. J. Brook.) The Eternal Setting of the Sun. Sermon, 26th July, 1807. The Saint's Seed-time and Harvest. (To Rev. J. Jenkins and Rev. W. J. Brook.) Doctrines of Garrett Refuted (Jere- miah Learnoult Garrett). Coalheaver's Comments on Zion's Traveller (Rev. Vigors MacCulla). The Coalheaver's Scraps (addressed to Rev. J. Jenkins) The Heavenly Workfolks and their Mystic Pay. Two sermons preached at Cranbrook, 8th Octo- ber, 1809. " Penny a Day" ser- mons. The Love of Christ Always the Same. Parts I., II., III. The Apartments, Equipage, and Parade of Immanuel. Sermon, 9th December, 1809. Zion's Gates and Pleasant Fruits. The Colour of the Fields, and their Fitness for the Sickle. Works in 20 Volumes. Bensley. The Glory of the Second House. Opening Sermon. Fragments of J. Jenkins, W.A. Naphtali, or Holy Wrestling. Ser- mon, 9th February, 1812 APPENDIX. 309 BetuUy Colling- ridge 88. 1 81 2 Lamentations of Satan, Part I. 89. 1812 Lamentations of Satan, Part IL 90. 1813 The Glorious Ministration of the Spirit of God. Sermon, 26th May, 1811. 91. 1813 Final Exhortation. His last sermon. Preface by Christopher Goulding. 92. 1814 5 Gleanings of the Vintage, 322 letters. The number subsequently increased to 342. 93. 1814 to Posthumous Letters. 4 Volumes, 1822 592 letters. 94. 1826 The Lord our Righteousness. Two sermons preached at Providence Chapel, 27th October, 181 1, from Isa. li. 6. Taken in shorthand at the time by Cornelius Tozer. Published by Ebenezer Hunting- ton's Widow, 25 Grafton Street East, in 1826. WORKS REVISED, ANNOTATED, PUBLISHED OR RE-PUBLISHED BY HUNTINGTON. Zion's Ornaments and Offerings. By S. L.^(one of Huntington's hearers who had come to poverty). A Reviving Cordial for a Sin -Despairing Soul. By James Barry. [The Coalheaver's Cousin Rescued from the Bats.] Free Grace. By John Saltmarsh. Particular Redemption. By James Barry. Mystery of the Apple Tree. By James Barry. The Spirit of Prayer. By James Barry. Footsteps of Divine Providence. By A. H. Francke, of HaUe. I According to Mr. Ebenezer Hooper, this was Mrs. Ball. I. 1787 2. 1788 3- 4- 1792 1802 5- 6. 7- INDEX Acton, Huntington at, 114, 182 Adam and Eve (Mr. and Mrs. John Adams, of Northampton) 86 Adams (Rev. Samuel) 86, 233, 294 Advocates for Devils Refuted, 62 Aldridge (Edward) Timber Merchant, of Aldersgate Street, 142 ; wants part of Huntington's tomb, 213 ; a trustee of the new chapel, 229 ; calls on Huntington, 262 Aldridge (Joseph) 222 AUsop (Sarah Bowyer) 229 Anecdotes : — " Forty pound a year. Lord," 40 William Treble, 179 He sat under Mr. Wills, 179 The Two Witnesses, 180 The man from Salisbury, 180 "Cease ye from man," 181 "You want a lazy life," 181 Thomas Weller, 181 John Warburton, 184 A woman of the town, 185 Maresfield epitaph, 215 On shaking hands, 215 A cup of tea, 216 "Tie it up," 217 The King in his beauty, 218 The apron and the guineas, 218 " I'm a son," 220 The stone-thrower, 224 Breaking the crockery, 225 Mansion House port, 226 Three thieves, 227 Cleaning the conduit, 229 The Apostle Paul in court, 244 " What are you laughing at ? " 247 Jesus in the water, 248 Dover to Calais, 249 Arminian Skeleton, The, 26, 65, 192 Baker (James and Peg) 58 ; Old Peg and her pie, 132 ; Huntington wants them to live with him, 167 ; James BaJcer dies, 170 ; letter to Mrs. Baker after the fire, 206 Bank of Faith, Tfie, ist Part, 65 ; 2nd Part, 116 Barber, The, quoted, 50 Barry (James) 82 Barston (Thomas) of Leicester, log ; visits Huntington, 156 ; Huntington hopes to live near turn, 210 Baxter (Rev. A. J.) 196, 297 Beeman (Rev. Isaac) wants to erect a chapel at Cran brook, 130 ; letter to him after the fire, 206 ; letters to him on the Book of Revelation, 250; letter to him of Dec.. 1812, 258 Bensley (Thomas) atthe wedding, 157; his «iition of Huntington's letters, 196, 198 ; and the guinea, 216 ; on Lady Sanderson's conduct, 228 ; a trustee of the new chapel, 229 ; by Huntington's deathbed, 267 ; dies, 303 Berry (Samuel) has Huntington's portrait painted, 131 Bethlehem Chapel. See Richmond Bible, The, Huntington's eulogy, 85 Birch (Rev. Henry) 303 Birch (Mrs.) 198 Bird (Mrs.) 185 Black-currant wine, 175 Blake (Mr. James) 267 Blake (Mrs. James) Ruth Huntington, bom, 14 ; referred to, 25 ; at her father's deathbed, 267 Blaker (EUzabeth) " The Sparrow Alone," 96, 139; visits Huntington, 156 ; letters to, 197 Blaker (Mary) 96; visits Huntington, 156; letters to, 197; "the bed letter," 199 Blaker (William) of Bolney, 96, 197; dies, 139 Blunt (Farmer) 233 Bolney, 96 Bourne (Rev. James) 186 Bowyer (James) 229 Bramah (Mr.) 189 Breeches, Prayer for, 48 Bristol, Huntington at (in 1786) 80 ; ditto (in 18 10) 171 Britton (Rev. Joseph) 189 Bryan (John) Huntington's footman, 172, 180 r# ■-. *<• 312 M LIFE 'OF HUNTINGTON. Brook (Rev. W. J.) of Brighton, 129; breach with Huntington, 149; visits Huntington, 156 ; second breach with Huntington, 159 ; a friendly meeting with Huntington, 163 ; dies, 249 Brothers (Richard) 189 Bull (Mrs.) 103, 311 Bunyan's works, 77 Buonaparte, 139, 148, 256 Burgess (Rev. Thomas) 185 ; preaches at Providence Chapel, 242 Burnham (Rev. Richard) 40, 251 Burrell (Joseph Francis) 302 Burrell (Mrs.) Naomi Huntington, 136; at Crick lewood, 136, 147, 153; illness of her first husband, Mr. Wayte, 147 ; marries Mr. Burrell, 302 Butler (Mr.) Huntington's bugbear, 93 Butler (Dr. John) 217 Butler (Mrs. Thomas) her patchwork quilt, 199 Cabin, The (Huntington's vestry at Providence Chapel) 61, 112; "Oh, sweet spot ! " 133 Carnal (Mr.) 80 Carter (Rev. R.) 273 Catechism, the Church, quoted, 26 Chamberlain (Rev. Joseph) 156, 164, 256; Huntington's last letter to, 258 ; preaches at Providence Chapel, 271 Chamberlain (Mary) dies, 164 Chapman (Janet) her stuff-damask, 38.53 Chapman (John) 38 ; likens Hunting- ton to Job's wild ass, 41 ; removes to Petersham, 54 ; dies and is buried at Petersham, 127 ; his vault, 146 Charing, Huntington at, 9 Chichester, Huntington at, 10 Clarke (Nanny) in Clarke (the Jack of all Trades) in, 112, 248 Clark (Mrs.) Lois Huntington, 100, 145. 302 Clive's new house (Lord) 24, 285 Coach and horses, Present of, 112 " Coat of Arms," Huntington's, 41 Coalheaver's Cousin Rescued from the Bats, The. 67, 82 Confessional, Miss Morton on the, 70 Contemplations on the God of Israel 74, 186, 187, 299 Cole (Rev. Dr. Henry) 297 Cooke (Miss H. E.) 117 Cooke (Rev. John) of Maidenhead, 203 Correspondence between Noctua Aurita and Philomela, loi Cottingham (Rev. Mr.) 189, 235 Cottish, 235 Countess of Huntingdon, 88 "Countess of Huntington" (Mrs. Huntington) 88 Covent Garden Theatre, 205 Cowper (William, the poet) 194 Cowyard and pond, 211, 231 Crabbe (Rev. George) 276 Cranbrook, Huntington born there, i; builds a chapel there, 130; Hunt- ington at, 162 Cricklewood House, no; Hunting- ton leaves it, 222 Crockery broken, 225 Crouch (Mr.) 51 Curtain, Prayer, 17 Cushioned corner, Huntington's, 18, 254 Davidson (James) 82, 197 Debate respecting Huntington and Tom Paine, 108 Deuce's Grammar School, Cran- brook, 3 De Fleury (Maria) 86 Deptford, chapel at, 184 Dictionary of National Biography, 287 Diggens (Miss A. M.) 99 Disney (Rev. Joseph, Vicar of Cran- brook) 2 " Doctor, The" (Huntington's title) 97 Doudney (Rev. Dr.) 294 Downham, near Ely, 158, 200; Huntington there after the fire, 208 Drury Lane Theatre, 205 Edinburgh Review, 275 Eedes (John) hears Huntington for the first time, 90 ; his Twilight of Sardis, 246 Election, Doctrine of, 24 ; an iron pillar, 27 Epistles of Faith , 70 Espriella, Don Manuel, Preface, 275 Evans (Rev. Caleb, of Bristol) 81 Every Divine Law, 88, 194 Ewell, Huntington at, 32 ; he revisits Ewell, 92 ; his last visit, 252 INDEX. 313 Falkland (Miss Eliza) 250, 251, 255 ; Huntington's conversation with, 259 ; sent for to Tunbridge Wells, 267 Fever Qohn) son of Huntington and Susan Fever, 8, 12 Fever (Susan) 6 ; dies, 1 2 ; her son by Huntington, 12 Five Sacred Spots, 16, gi, 252 Forty Stripes Save None for Satan, 93. 95 Free Grace, 33 Friend (Rev. Henry, Rector of Frittenden) 5 Frittenden, The Rector of, 5 Gassons, 96 George IH. aids Huntington, 44 Gideon Chapel, Bristol, 171 Gleanings of the Vintage, 196 " God reigns, George ! " 148 Golden (Mrs., of Otford) 76 Goulding (Christopher) 89 ; a trustee of the new chapel, 229, 242 " Grace carries many rays," 31 Grub Street Chapel, 156, 209 Guardship, Huntington goes over a, 217 Gunners and swivels, 50 Hackston, a free-wilier, 32 Hannah (Mr.) 233 Harvey (Sir Ludlow) 233 Hart (Rev. Joseph) 61, iii, 236 Hassell (John) schoolmaster at Gran- brook, 3 Hazelton (Rev. John E.) 299 Hatton (Rev. Richard) Huntington's assistant, 176 Hay (Sir William) 233, 265 Heath (Richard) 298 Hermes Hill, 222 Hill (Sir Richard) 233 Hill (Rev. Rowland) 186, 188; the tongs story, 192 ; runs away from Huntington, 194 History of Little Faith, 85 Hooper (Mr. Cleeve) 100, 198 Hooper (Mr. Ebenezer) quoted, 197 Hooper (Mrs. Thomjis) "Philomela," 100, loi, 198 Hudson (Mr. William) 264 Hunt (Elizabeth, Huntington's mother) i ; buried, 5 Hunt (Martha, Huntington's sister) 2 Hunt (William, Huntington'sreputed father) i ; buried 5 Hunter (Mr.) 233 Huntington (Ebenezer) 160 ; his edition of Huntington's letters, 196, 302 Huntington (Gad) 161, 302 Huntington (Mrs., Mary Short) her marriage, 13; defends her husband, 25 ; letter in her handwriting, 44 ; her new gown, 53 ; Huntington's lettor to, 35; "The Countess," 88; has the gout, 118 ; her great fail- ing, 122; gout worketh wrath, 135; goes to Dorsetshire, 136 ; dies, 144 Huntington (Naomi). See Burrell (Mrs.) Huntington (Ruth). See Blake (Mrs. James) Huntington (William) birth, i ; steals loaf from a French boy, 3 ; at Squire Cook's, 4 ; at Battle Abbey, 4 ; with the Rector of Frittenden, 5 ; gives rein to his amorous passions, 7 ; saddled with a main- tenance order, 8 ; offers to marry Susan Fever, 8 ; at Charing, 9 ; at Danbury, 11 ; changes his name. 11; marries Mary Short, 13; at Mortlake, 13 ; his conversion, 14 ; at Kingston, 15 ; gardener at Sun- bury, 20 ; his vision in the pear tree, 27 ; hears Rev. Torial Joss, 30 ; begins to preach at Ewell, 32 ; coalheaver at Thames Ditton, 37 ; ordained minister, 41 ; attacked by rioters, 42 ; trouble about his name, 45 ; prays for breeches, 48 ; prays for a horse, 50; removes to 29 Winchester Row, 55 ; builds (old) Providence Chapel, 56 ; his " Cabin," 61 ; removes to Church Street, Paddington, 85 ; visits old haunts, 91 ; thrown from his horse, 93 ; removes to Cricklewood House, no; makes acquaintance of Lady Sanderson, 124 ; builds a chapel at Cranbrook, 130 ; journeys with Lady Sanderson, 1 36 : marries Lady Sanderson, 157 ; his character and appearance, 172 ; entertains 100 persons at Christmas, 173 ; as a writer, 186 ; his letters, 194 ; his last Sunday service, 260 ; his last sermon, 261 ; taken to Tunbridge Wells, 263 ; his two wills, 264 ; writes his epitaph, 268; his last words, 269 : his funeral, 270 Huntington (William, Huntington's son) 161, 302 #: SH LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. Jarvis, (Mr. David) 289, 291 Jealoi"jy, connubial, 120 Jenkins (Rev. J.)98 ; his "generous" housekeeper, 99; loses his "in- tended," 104 ; Contemplations addressed to him, 187; dies, 212; funeral sermon preached by Hunt- ington, 213 Jesus Christ, " Becky, I cannot live without Him," 252 Jireh Chapel, Lewes, 98, 213, 270 Jones (Miss Ann) 99 Joss (Rev. Torial) 30 ; ordains Hunt- ington, 41 Joy of Faith, The, 140 Justification of a Sinner, 78, 89 Katterns (the old clerk) 6i Keyt (John) 89, 234 Kingdom of Heaven Taken Prayer, 68 Kingston, 16, 91, 252 by Lamentations of Satan, 74, 254, 255 Lansdell (George) 120, 134; implores Huntington to raise his daughter from the dead, 147 ; " God reigns, George," 148 ; visits Huntington, 156 Lansdell (Sarah) dies, 147 Last Fragments of Rev. J. Jenkins, 214 Last Will and Testament, 77, 119 Law Established by Faith, The, Lewes, Huntmgton s tomb at, 272 Littleport (Isle of Ely) Huntington at. 117. 153. 163 Liverpool (The Earl of) 233 Living Testimonies, 103 Lock (Rev. Algar) 177, 248 ; alludes to Huntington's illness, 263 ; preaches at Providence Chapel, 303 Lock (Mr. r. B.) 288, 289, 291 Lois (Huntington's daughter). See Clark (Mrs.) Lord our Righteousness, The (a sermon) 243 Love of Christ Always the Same, The, 164 Macaroni Parson, The, 22 Macaulay, 285, 292 McCuUa (Rev. Vigors) i8g, 251, 273 Mansion House port, 226 Marchant (Elizabeth) 100 Marchant (Thomas) 100, 213 Maresfield, 215 Margaret Street Chapel, 46 Martin (Charles, of Downham) 116, 202, 232, 303 Martin (Mrs. Charles) 116, 303 Martin (Henry) 117 Martin (William) 117, 203 Martin (Mrs. William) Rebecca, 117, 203 Mason (John) Seedsman, 229 Mathews (Charles) 280 Medal (Gold) Providence Chapel, 211 Milton, 67, 77 Modern Plasterer Detected, The, 189, 190, 192, 235 Moral Law not Injured by the Everlasting Gospel, The, 193 Morris (Mr. Joseph) 100, 198, 213 Mortlake, 13, 16, gi, 252 Morton (Miss E.) 70 Mumping Friars, 73 " My Lady's Cottage," 160 Naked Bow, The, 42, 65, 175 Naphtali, or Holy Wrestling, 234 Napoleon, 139, 148, 256 Nash (M.) 273 " Nature looked gay," 252 New Providence Chapel. See Provi- dence Chapel, New Newton (Rev. John) 56, 128, 147, 278 Nile, Battle of the, 108 Northampton, 86 Old Bailey, 154 Onesimus in the Balance, 143 Onesimus. See Terry (Garnet) Organ, 231 Over (John) Butcher, of Fleet Market, 142 ; and the ten pounds, 216 ; and Huntington's house, 223 ; in Hunt- ington's summer house, 224 ; a trustee of the new chapel, 229 ; by Huntington's deathbed, 267 Owram (Thomas) 141, 255 Oxenham (Rev. Thos.) 114. 182, 303 Paine (Thomas) 108 Parr (Mr.) Baker, of Throgmorton Street, 129, 202 Paley (Sarah) 184 Paul (The Apostle) in court, 244 Pavey (John) 35 Pee-pee bird, 132 Pellegrini paints Huntington's por- trait, 131 ''k- v^ INDEX. 315 " Penny a Day " sermon, 165 Pentycross (Rev. Thomas) i8g Percival (Mr.) shot, 250 Peter (the coachman) 112, 264 Petersham, Mr. Chapman removes to, 54 ; the vault at, 127 ; Mrs. Huntington buried there, 146 Peto (Mr. Henry) 233 "Philomela," 100, loi, 198, 272 Philpot (Rev. J. C. of Stamford) on Huntington's letters, 195; on Huntington, 286, 294 Pitt's Virgil, 67, 77 Plymouth Dock, Huntington at, 105 Popery, 70, 73, 256 Posthutnous Letters, 124, 196, 198 Prayer, Huntington on, 102 Praying-place, Huntington's, 18, 254 Priestley (Dr.) 189, 190 Priestley (Rev. Timothy) 189 Prodigalis, 78 Providence Chapel (Old) erected, 56 ; on fire, 83; enlarged, 115 ; burnt to the ground, 205 Providence Chapel (New) looking for a site, 210; the cowyard, 211 ; gold medal, 211; opened, 230; scenes in, 233 ; now standing, 303 Puipit, Tlie, &c., by " Onesimus," 144 Purgatory, Huntington on, 72 Quarterly Review, 278 Resurrection of Seirah Lansdell, The suggested, 148 Retford, 141 Richmond, Bethlehem Chapel, 108 ; Mr. WilUngham, 170 ; Huntington preaches there, 206 Rolvenden, Huntington at, 8 Romaine (Rev. William) 62; apprecia- tion of Huntington, 292 Romanism, 70 ; its advances, 73, 256 Rigg (Mr. J. M.) 287 Ring (John) Schoolmaster at Tun- bridge Wells, 134 Rule and the Riddle, The, 74 Running before God, 53 Russell (Barnabas) Huntington's father, i ; buried, 5 Rutherford (Samuel) 193 Ryland (Rev. Dr.) 86 Sack (Parson) 89, 108, 203 Sanderson (Eliza) her property, 217 ; her harpsichord, 223 ; sent for to Tunbridge Wells, 267 Sanderson, Lady, 124 ; accompanies Huntington to Littleport, 135 ; marries Huntington, 157; her economy, 161 ; writes to Mrs. Turner, 257 ; dies, 302 Sanderson (Sir James) 124 Satirist, The, 158, 191, 273, 275, 281, 282 Saunders (Mr., the king's coachman) 233 Sayings of Huntington : — " Grace carries," 31 It is a great, 40 I used my prayers, 50 Fortune, luck, and chance, 66 Nature should not be forced, 103 How prevalent is prayer, 125 The Trinity, 221 Our prayers, 221 Riches, 221 Popery, 221 He would have me, 221 I cannot live without Him, 252 Seals, Huntington's, 60 Shoe and Leather Record, 289 Short (Mary). See " Huntington, Mrs. ■ ' Shunamite, Divine Poem on the, 65 Skinner (Alderman) 126 Skinner (Rev. James, of Cranbrook) 201 Springthorp (Nanny) 264 Sinden (Rev. W.) Preface, 6g, 236 Smith (James and Horace) 277 Snuffbox, Huntington's, 175 Southey (Robert) 278 Sparrow Alone, 'The, 97 Spiritual Magazine and Z ion's Casket, 261 spiritual Sea Voyage, A, zij " S.S." [Sinner Saved] 113 Sterling (John) 293 Stevens (Rev. John) 251 Stevens (William) 187, 230, 242 Stock (James) the chapel thief, 152, 154 Stone (Mr.) Huntington's solicitor, 269 Styles (Rev. W. Jeyes) quoted, 8, 26, £7, 298 Sunbury, 16, 91, 252 Swivels and prayers, 50 Taylor (Mr., of Biggleswade) 18 Taylor, Ann, 125 Terry (Garnet) " Onesimus," 142, 246, 273 4' 3i6 LIFE OF HUNTINGTON. Thames Ditton, i6, 37, gi, 252 Tobitt (Rev. J. W.) 299 Thornton (John, " The Great ") 39 Tozer (Cornelius) Article by, 242, 243 Traducers, Huntington's, 17 Treble (William) calls on Hunting- ton, 179 Tunbridge Wells, Huntington at, 10, 263 Turner (Rev. Samuel, of Sunderland) letter to, 170, 181 ; in Huntington's summer house, 227 ; visits Hunt- ington in 1812, 255 ; visits Hunting- ton in 181 3, 260 Turner (Mrs. Samuel) 255 Ur, Huntington's (Mortlake) 15 Vessey (Rev. William, of Chatham) 95 189 Voice of Years, The. By Crouch, 178, 294 Velleity, Uselessness of acts of, 50 Vision of brilliant light, The, 27 Voice of Years, The, 178, 220 Waddelow (Mrs., of Littleport) 117; will preach in her barn, 152 Wagram, Battle of, 163 Warburton (John) calls on Hunting- ton, 184 Watching of Providence, The, 75 Way and the Fare, The, 74 Wayte (Mrs.) Naomi Huntington. See Burrell (Mrs.) Wayte (Mr.) 147, 302 Weljb (Ann) 33 Webb (Samuel) 34 Weller (Thomas) 181 Willingham (Mr., of Richmond) 170 Wilkinson (Rev. John, of Plymouth Dock) 105 Willows (Mr.) Letters to, 178 Wills (Rev. Thomas) 179 Wilmshurst (Mr. James) 251 Wilmshurst (Mr. Jonathan) 251 Wilshere (Mr.) 218 Winchester (Rev. E.) 189 Winchester Row, Huntington resides at, 54 Witnesses, The Two (in Revelation) 180 Woking, Huntington ordained at, 41 ; Huntington's chapel, 114 Worplesdon, Chapel at, 114 Yeoman, Page boy to a, 3 Young (Daniel) husband of one of Huntington's sisters, 7 ; hangs him- self, 96 Young (Thomas, the elder) husband of one of Huntington's sisters, 7 Young (Thomas, the younger) 204 Zion's Alarm, 80 Printed by Farncombe «• Son, y6 Southbridge Road Croydon. 4 ill YO .17433