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1 
 
ADAM CLARKE PORTRAYED. 
 

ADAM CLAKKE 
 
 PORTRAYED. 
 
 BY 
 
 JAMES EVERETT. 
 
 Half a word fired upon, at, or near the spot, is worth a cart-load of recollection," 
 
 Gray, in a Letter to Pbegravk, 
 
 SECOND EDITION, CAREFULLY REVISED AND ENLARGED. 
 
 VOL II. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 W. REED, 15, CREED LANE, LUDGATE STREET; 
 HAMILTON, ADAMS, AND 00., 
 
 PATERNOSTER ROW. 
 
 1866. 
 
B , 
 
 c s ? 7 3, ^ 
 
 V- 2 - ' 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 PAET IV. 
 
 SECTION IV.— 1809. 
 
 On all public, as well as private occasions, Dr. Clarke shunned parade; 
 especially in matters connected with the ministerial character. Having 
 to preach in a place of worship belonging to a religious community 
 different from his own, in the metropolis, and whose officiating minister 
 always appeared before his auditory in gown and bands, in favour of 
 which there was a strong feeling on the part of the people, he was in- 
 ^ formed in the vestry, that he would be expected to appear in the same, 
 — and that huge offence would be given, if he did not comply with the 
 wishes of the friends. This, to the Doctor, appeared as much out of 
 character as Saul’s armour to David, and would have felt no less cumber- 
 some in the pulpit, than Saul’s in the field : and just as the keeper of the 
 vestments turned round to bring them, the Doctor quietly slipped into 
 the chapel, took some of his longest strides up the pulpit stairs, invoked 
 the divine blessing on his labours, and proceeded with the service. Had 
 the Wesleyan s been accustomed to such things, they would have been 
 in keeping with the man^ as much as it would be out of character for a 
 clergyman of the Established Church to appear in the pulpit without 
 them. He amply atoned, however, for any want of adornment in his 
 person, by the weight of his matter, which excited the admiration of his 
 hearers. 
 
 Though he might not, on all occasions, meet the views of those with 
 whom he mingled, or was brought into collision, yet he carefully avoided 
 giving wilful offence. An appeal having been made to him on a particular 
 subject by a friend who observed, “ You will have a long letter. Doctor, 
 in return, and, I am afraid, it will be a bitter one ; ” he replied, “ It will 
 make no difference to me ; I wuite no bitter letters in reply to any that I 
 ^ may receive ; my plan is, to cut the throat with a feather, or so to oil the 
 hone on which the razor is sharpened, as not to provoke reply : the person 
 to whom you refer, shall have nothing but good words from me.” It was 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 B 
 
2 
 
 ADAM CLAKKE. 
 
 in this way he acted on the latter part of the old proverb, though totally 
 rejecting the former, — ‘‘ Treat your friend as though he were one day to 
 become your enemy, and your enemy as though he were one day to 
 become your friend.” 
 
 Being invited to a social party with some of his brethren, and conver- 
 sation turning on the evils induced by the fall of man, Mr. McMcoll 
 pensively remarked, “ These are the miseries we have to deplore ! ” The 
 Doctor, who was ever disposed to look at the sunny side of the landscape, 
 feeling that there was a danger of losing sight of the rich provision 
 of mercy which followed, glanced his eye on his young friend, and in 
 cheerful raillery, said, “ You may well talk of the miseries consequent on 
 the fall, seated, and sighing there, over roast-beef and plum-pudding ; let 
 me tell you, Davy, that you have much to be thankful for.” This — 
 however the original defection might be deplored — led the way to the 
 superior advantages reaped by the human family in consequence of the 
 fall, — plucking, as it were, from the very branches of that tree, whose 
 deadly shade was thrown over all, and whose noxious productions had 
 infused poison into every part of the human system, fruit, — wholesome — 
 healing — delicious — abundant — immortal ; a subject luminously, convin- 
 cingly, and impressingly touched off by Mr. Wesley, in his sermon on 
 — “ Not as the offence, so also is the free gift,” Rom. v. 15. 
 
 Some one, in the course of conversation, having introduced Burnet’s 
 account of the death of the Earl of Rochester, it was taken up by another 
 of the company, who stated that he felt a difficulty in subscribing to the 
 conversion of Rochester ; intimating, that Burnet appeared anxious to 
 make out a case, as a set off, against infidelity — that he laboured to make 
 the most of it — and that Rochester apparently embraced from fear, what 
 he formerly rejected from principle. Dr. Clarke, who was not over- 
 weeningly fond of Burnet as a writer, and awake- also to the charge 
 of inaccuracy which had been brought against him, laid claim, neverthe- 
 less, to all that could be ceded in favour of Rochester’s sincerity. 
 
 On Ezekiel xxiii. 2 being quoted in illustration of the mercy of God — 
 “ Say unto them. As I live saith the Lord God, I have no pleasure in the 
 death of the wicked,” the Doctor observed, “ Faith in the declaration of 
 God, firmly anchored in the heart, is a chain fastened to his throne ; and 
 by the constant exercise of which, we must endeavour to climb to 
 heaven.” Then glancing at the state in which mercy finds us, as des- 
 cribed 1 John, V. 19, “The whole world lieth in wickedness,” or as it is 
 rendered, “ lieth in the wicked one,” he exclaimed, “ The world reposing 
 in^ and its life’s blood circulating through him, this is indeed an infernal 
 bed ! ” 
 
 Speaking of critics, and other writers on the sacred text, he was high 
 in his praise of Dr. Newcome’s “ Harmony of the Gospels,” which he 
 stated to be the best ; and to which he was indebted for considerable 
 
PAKT IV. — SECTION IV. 
 
 3 
 
 help. A friend complimenting Yitringa on the prophecies,* the Doctor 
 said, “ Though excellent, I rarely make any use of him ; he is too diffuse ; 
 he overwhelms you with unnecessary argument : for my part, I am afraid 
 of prophecy, lest I should add to the words of God, by my explanations.” 
 Referring to Yitringa on the Apocalypse, some time after this, he said, 
 ‘‘My nephew, John Edward Clarke, has written as satisfactorily as most 
 men on a part of ‘ The Revelation of Jesus Christ.’ He came into 
 my study one day, exclaiming, in the language of the great mathe- 
 matician, ‘ Evjojyfca, Evprjica^ I have found it — I have found it ! ’ Found 
 what? I inquired. ‘ The number of the Beast,’ he replied. I told him 
 to look carefully over his calculations again, and if he found them cor- 
 rect, I would, if he wished it, publish the result in my notes. 1 further 
 told him, that he would have to read over the Byzantine writers before he 
 finally decided ; and this he did, carefully going through the whole 
 twenty-three volumes. ”t Scarcely a writer on the Scriptures could be 
 named, whether ancient or modern, concerning whom the Doctor could 
 not furnish an analysis either of his work, or some of his peculiar cha- 
 racteristics ; yet with all his knowledge, he was wide of the charge 
 couched in the sally of Hall against Dr. Kippis, — that “ he laid so many 
 books upon his head that his brains could not move ; ” for more like Hall 
 himself, he could always think : a page was to him more serviceable than 
 a volume to many; a single hint expanded itself into a treatise, — the 
 adopted was lost in the begotten. 
 
 The subject of the divinity of Christ being introduced, a friend 
 puzzled on some minor points, turned to the Doctor, and asked his 
 opinion, when he remarked, “ There might be a gradual manifestation of 
 the Godhead to the humanity of the Saviour ; and this may be intimated 
 in the fact of his increasing in wisdom and stature ; somewhat analagous 
 to the manifestation of mind in matter, as it respects man. The infant 
 mind cannot unfold itself at first, but as there is muscle, nerve, &c., by 
 which it can act, it increases, and puts forth its energies, as the powers of 
 the body are strengthened and enlarged for its peculiar manifestation. 
 So it might be with Christ. His not knowing ‘ the day and the hour,’ 
 may denote that the full communication of Deity had not been made ; 
 — and thus he travelled on, till he reached the thirty-third or thirty- 
 fourth year of his age, when his humanity may be supposed to have 
 arrived at its full growth or perfection, and then probably we come to 
 
 * Comment on the Book of the Prophet Isaiah, in 2 vols. folio. 
 
 t The Doctor lent him his own copy, — Byzantinse Historiae Scriptores Praecipni, 
 Greece ;et Lutine, a Variis Editoribus, Emendati et Notis Illustrati, 23 vols. folio, in 26, 
 fine set, uniformly bound in vellum, — Venetiis, 1729—1733. This copy was bought at 
 the sale of his library, by H. Bohn, for £19 19s. 
 
 In 1814, J. E. Clarke published the result of his labours, entitled, “A Dissertation 
 on the Dragon, Beast, and False Prophets of the Apocalypse of St. John, in which the 
 number 666 is fully explained. To which is added. An Illustration of Daniel’s Vision of 
 the Ram and He-Goat.” London, 8vo, 10s. 6d. ! j a 
 
 B 2 
 
4 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 the meaniDg of that expression, ‘ In him dwelleth ali the fulness of the 
 Godhead bodily.’ Such a supposition is, at least, plausible ; and we may 
 explain many difficulties by it, as well as account for many extraordinary 
 expressions, which seem to require something like this to render them 
 perfectly intelligible.” 
 
 The gentleman who had drawn him into the preceding remarks, spoke 
 with great modesty and Christian feeling upon the possibility of seeing 
 God in heaven. The Doctor dissented from him, and stated his belief in 
 the greater probability of the Divine Essence remaining invisible, — man 
 being utterly incapable of supporting it. “ The glorified humanity of 
 Christ,” said he, “will no doubt be visible, and may possibly approximate 
 more and more towards perfection, as it advanced towards maturity 
 while upon earth, — still heightening as the redeemed shall be able to 
 behold it; — it being the grand medium of communication between 
 absolute Deity and man. Through this, God may let his creatures into 
 his own infinite glory, which eternity itself will never be able to exhaust ; 
 let them into it as they are able to bear it ; and these fresh inlets to him- 
 self — by one revelation succeeding another, just as he discovers himself 
 to us by degrees here, may — in part at least, constitute our future 
 happiness.” 
 
 These remarks led to a conversation on the omnipotence of God, 
 when the Doctor said, “It requires the same power to preserve, as to 
 create ; our being is the effect of a cause ; withdraw the cause, and the 
 effect must cease : mind is an emanation from God’s own intelligence ; 
 this can only cease by a special act of Deity ; — but the same causation 
 preserves, and is, in a certain sense, a continued act of God to support 
 life. Look at a mill, the wheel of which is turned by a stream ; the 
 water is the cause of motion, and is as necessary to preserve as to 
 originate it ; should this cease to act, all stands still : life, in like manner, 
 is a continued act of God’s preserving power, and omnipotence alone can 
 sustain it.” 
 
 The recognition of Saints in heaven being noticed, and several 
 passages of Scripture being adduced to support the theory, the Doctor, in 
 reference to difficulties proposed on the objective side of the question, 
 replied somev/hat impatiently, “ It will be a humbling reflection, if I am 
 to know less in a perfect state, than I know here, where knowledge is so 
 circumscribed. The ancients had a fable about the Lethean streams 
 of oblivion, which made them forget everything tliey had ever said or 
 done in the present life ; but I know of no such thing in Christian 
 theology.” On Matth. xxii. 28 — 30, being quoted, — “ For in the 
 resurrection they neither marry nor are given in marriage ; but are as 
 the angels of God in heaven — Whose wife shall she be,” &c. “That,” 
 he replied, “ is not a subject in which I am interested ; I have had but 
 one wife, and my wife has had but one husband ; ” then to ward off 
 
FAHT IV. — SECTION IV. 
 
 5 
 
 further discussion, which he perceived would lead to no improving 
 result, the whole being involved in mystery, he closed pleasantly with, — 
 
 “ A friend once said to my Mary, ‘ If you were to die, the Doctor 
 would be married again, and you would then lose him : ’ ‘ That,’ said she, 
 
 ‘ excites no concern, for I know I shall have the first claim in a future 
 state.’ ” 
 
 He manifested, however, none of this reserve when conversing on 
 subjects which tended to produce wholesome Christian principle, and base 
 the mind in the truth of God. The evangelists passing in review — 
 “ Mark,” said he, ‘‘ makes a plain statement of what he knows to be fact ; 
 his grand design is to show, that although Jesus is man, there is a Divine 
 Power visible in all he does. — Matthew draws no inference ; he deviates 
 from all other historians, whose object is to establish certain positions — 
 who show how an argument may be strengthened — how impossible it is 
 to mistake, &c. : there is nothing like the labour of proof — no effort to 
 produce an impression. — On the other hand, John proceeds all along to 
 assert and to establish the divinity of Jesus Christ. Were the three 
 preceding evangelists swept entirely away, the testimony of St. John 
 would perfectly satisfy my mind as to the divine authority of the Bible — 
 the godhead and manhood of Christ.” He noticed this one day to his 
 friend, Mr. Alexander Knox, when the latter said, “ Adam, that argu- 
 ment is as indestructible as the sun in the firmament — as firm as the 
 pillars of heaven ! ” 
 
 “ Redeeming the time,” was one of those precepts of which Dr. Clarke 
 furnished a daily practical exposition, both at home and abroad. Being 
 in the house of a friend, and taking up the Life of Bridaine, he observed, 
 ‘^Though I have written a character of this man, I never till now saw 
 this life of him : what I wrote was published several years ago in the 
 Arminian Magazine^ Having read the Memoir in the course of the day, 
 and made some extracts from it, he said, “ The Abbe Maury, preacher in 
 ordinary to the French king, extolling the exquisite exordium of Cicero 
 in his first Oration against Cataline, — ‘ Quousque tandem abuterey &c., 
 observed, that the only traces of this ancient and vigorous eloquence 
 remaining among us, (which was no other than the first voice of nature,) 
 was to be found among the missions in the several provinces ; where 
 apostolic men, endued with a strong and vigorous imagination, knew no 
 other success than conversions^ and no other plaudits than tears ; and 
 though occasionally destitute of taste, and descending into burlesque 
 detail, yet strongly striking the senses, — impressing terror by their 
 threatenings and exciting general concern in their hearers. The Abbe 
 heard Bridaine preach his first sermon in the church of St. Sulpicius in 
 Paris, where a number of the nobility, from curiosity, had been drawn to 
 hear him, together with bishops, decorated personages, and a crowd of 
 ecclesiastics : the exordium, as given by the Abbe, is a fine specimen of 
 
6 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 the preacher’s eloquence and powers of mind. Bridaine was in France, 
 wliat Whitfield was in England, — only possessed of a far superior mind 
 to that of the English orator : he could raise, melt, terrify an audience, 
 and send the profane away in a state of penitence. The Abbe states, 
 that, with a popular eloquence, full of images and emotions, few men 
 possessed in a more eminent degree than he, the admirable talent of ren- 
 dering himself master of an assembled multitude. He had such a fine 
 voice, as rendered credible all the prodigies which history recounts of the 
 declamation of the ancients ; and was as easily heard by ten thousand 
 persons in the open air, as if he had spoken under the most sonorous arch. 
 In all that he said, turns naturally rhetorical might be observed ; and in 
 some instances, he was not inferior to Bossuet or Demosthenes. It was 
 his chief design,” proceeded the Doctor, “ to break and rend the heart, 
 and to dismiss the people in distress, if not in despair ; considering 
 this as compensating, in some measure, for the sins of their past lives, 
 and so preserving a kind of balance between the past and the present : he 
 was properly a Royal Missionary. When Queen Anne came to the throne, 
 she allowed some persons the privilege of visiting the various churches, and 
 preaching to the people, after having first given notice of their intention.” 
 
 Mr. 0. — “ If something of this kind were permitted now, — the men 
 themselves being devoted to God, it would prove highly beneficial both to 
 clergy and laity.” 
 
 Dr. Clarice. — “ Mr. Wesley always regretted one thing — that he had 
 not asked for a privilege of this kind.” 
 
 Mr. E. — ‘‘ Are you aware. Doctor, of any occasion occurring in 
 which it would have been at all prudent or proper to prefer such a 
 request ? ” 
 
 Dr. G . — “Yes, — on the occasion of the pamphlet which he published 
 on the American war ; a pamphlet with which the government was so 
 pleased, that copies were ordered to be distributed at the doors of all 
 the churches in the metropolis ; and respecting which, one of the highest 
 officers of state waited upon him — wishing to know whether government 
 could in any way be of service to either himself or his people.” 
 
 Mr. C. — “ What was the reply ? ” 
 
 Dr. C . — “ Mr. Wesley stated, that he looked for no favours, and only 
 desired the continuance of civil and religious privileges. The nobleman, 
 again pressed the question ; but Mr. Wesley, with equal courtesy and 
 firmness, declined all favours. At length, the nobleman, just on the point 
 of retiring, observed, — ‘ In all probability. Sir, you have some charities 
 which are dear to you ; by accepting £50 from the privy purse, to appro- 
 priate as you may deem proper, you will give great pleasure to those for 
 whom I act.’ This was accepted ; but Mr. Wesley expressed himself to 
 me afterwards, as sorry that he had not requested to be made a royal 
 missionary, and to have the privilege of preaching in every church.” 
 
PAKT IV. — SECTION IV. 
 
 7 
 
 Mr. E . — “ You named the Abbe Maury ; what is your opinion of his 
 Essay on Eloquence ? ” 
 
 Dr. C. — “ He analysed, with great ability, many of the living 
 preachers of the day ; and though he sometimes laid such men as Tillot- 
 son, and other English preachers, on their backs, he at the same time paid 
 them some high compliments ; and the book cannot but please.” 
 
 The Pope having been mentioned, the Doctor referred to the back- 
 wardness of Lord Lyttleton to kiss the toe of his holiness, when at Eome. 
 “ His hesitancy being perceived, the Pope said to him, with great polite- 
 ness, ‘ Do not be afraid, my lord ; draw near ; — an old man’s blessing will 
 do you no harm.’ Without remarking on a custom so revolting to a 
 Protestant, the sentiment is good, and well expressed. On opening a 
 new chapel in London, I availed myself of it, and it produced a good 
 effect. Some of the hearers were retiring immediately after the collection 
 was made ; this gave me great pain of mind, and elevating my voice I 
 said, ‘You had better stop, and take God with you, — the preacher’s 
 blessing can do you no harm : ’ then, after prayer, I pronounced this 
 benediction, — ‘ Go in peace — live in peace — and the God of peace be with 
 you always ! ’ ” 
 
 The Doctor’s taste, though far from fastidious on the elegancies of 
 style, was sometimes a little nice in cases of verbal innovation. He could 
 scarcely bear the term, “ March of Intellect,” with common patience, 
 because of the abuse to which it had been subjected. A friend employing 
 the Americanism, “ talented young man^''’' he said, “ I am astonished to 
 hear you make use of the term talented; it is not to be found in the 
 English language.” He next amused his friend with Dr. Johnson’s 
 definition of the word net., pronouncing his Dictionary to be a “ great 
 work ; ” stating, however, at the same time, that the plan was not 
 original. In support of this sentiment, he remarked, that he had three 
 copies of a Persian and Arabic Dictionary, in which the words were 
 illustrated by quotations from the poets, &c., — that subsequently to this 
 work, an Italian Dictionary had been published on the same plan, — and 
 after this a French Dictionary appeared on a similar one. With the latter 
 he found fault : and then adverting to Johnson’s religious character, to 
 which he was led by some remarks made at the time, he said, “The 
 Doctor had the terror., rather than the fear of God.” 
 
 Dr. Clarke was not one of those men, whose visits produce anything 
 like satiety. He was the reverse of a person whom he named, who had 
 stopped some time in a house, to the annoyance of the family. “ A. B.,” 
 said he, “ partakes of the qualities of Mr. ; he makes a dose of him- 
 
 self wherever he goes : there should not be more than two such persons in 
 the same county.” Then, pleasantly added, “ In my country, we have 
 the vis., — then the visit., — and next the visitation. The visits of A. are 
 always the longest., and so extend to a visitation.'''' Another person being 
 
8 
 
 ADAM CLAP.KE. 
 
 named, as remarkable for loquacity as for lingering visits ; “ She,” said 
 he, by way of dismissing the subject, “is like evermore.'''' 
 
 He was occasionally thrown into the company of persons who were 
 exceedingly annoying. The writer recollects an officious man, who, when 
 the Doctor was from home, was constantly obtruding his remarks, and 
 making appointments for him ; and the Doctor being told that some 
 method should be adopted to check such conduct, said, “Let him alone ; 
 rny pot is boiling as well as yours, — but I still have the lid on.” Then 
 laughing, and turning it off, — “ I knew him in early life ; through his 
 incapacity for business, he ran through £14,000 : he was born under a 
 threepence-halfpenny planet, and was never to be worth fourpence. Let 
 us bear with him ; he is a good man after all, and has a great deal of 
 what the French call Vunction piete about him.” Seeing this same person 
 from the window, (who was remarkable for late attendance in his engage- 
 ments, and at the house of God,) posting his way to the house of a friend; 
 the Doctor opened the door for him, and delicately rebuked him with, — 
 “ Here he comes — ‘ And Amalek smote the hindmost of them.’ ” Having 
 borrowed his spectacles a moment, and feeling disposed to settle an 
 account of cleanliness with him also, he said, while rubbing them, — 
 “ Why, Brother G., you may almost sow mustard seed on them.” 
 
 Though remote from fault-finding, yet there were little points in 
 social life which he could not forbear noticing, and which, when known, 
 might convey a useful hint to others, especially in the conduct of children, 
 and their mode of treatment. Travelling in company with a family, 
 they all came to an inn, at a time when the different public accommodations 
 were full, in consequence of the assizes. He asked to be conducted to a 
 room, having been a good deal annoyed by the dust : the servant showed 
 him into one of the attics — confined, and apparently rarely used. “ Have 
 you not a lower room?” he inquired. “ Be thankful,” was the reply, 
 “ that you have got that.” “ I have no gratitude to expend upon it,” 
 the Doctor returned. On descending to the lower part of the house, he 
 entered a small back parlour, where the lady and gentleman, together 
 with their children, were seated, surrounded with their luggage. The 
 Doctor looked for a seat, and no one being offered, he touched the coat of 
 the writer, and going to lounge in the street, — “Alas!” he exclaimed, 
 “ what an education those poor children must have received ! There aro 
 chairs for you, for T., and for myself ; and yet the parents can see us 
 walking about, without requesting a child to stand, or offering to take 
 one on the knee.” It may be added, that these persons had been laid 
 under many obligations to the Doctor. He loved order and good 
 breeding; that kind of training which imparts ease and freedom, — 
 though he was as remote from the artificial, and the unnecessarily sub-^ 
 dued tone of abject feeling, as he was from selfishness and vulgarity. 
 Mr. C.’s little daughter was clinging round the neck of her father; 
 
PART IV. — sp:ction IV. 
 
 9 
 
 “ There,” said the Doctor, with a gush of fine paternal feeling — “ that is 
 the image which St. John had in view, when he said, ‘ Little children,’ 
 or '‘dear little children,’ — for so the word will allow in point of meaning : 
 there is tenderness on the one hand, and confidence and simplicity on the 
 other.” Mr. C., on another occasion, was swinging his child; — “That 
 is the best exercise,” said the Doctor, “ for delicate persons and children. 
 Walking fatigues them; whereas, in swinging, the child is taking in 
 fresh air by every breath, — absorbing vitality every moment. The 
 swinging, however, should cease gradually, as otherwise, it would too 
 suddenly give the lungs a different kind of action. Dr. Percival, of 
 Manchester, recommended swinging for a child of mine, but we were 
 unable to rear her; the plant was too tender.” Some one, tickling one 
 of the children, the Doctor said, “ My brother tickled me once, so that I 
 nearly died under it : but all my children have been disciplined, till they 
 have become perfect stoics.” 
 
 Conversation now taking a philosophic turn, and the question — 
 “ Why is there so much sea?” being asked, the Doctor entered largely 
 into the experiments and calculations of Ray, and after him, of Dr. 
 Long, showing how far they had succeeded, and the advantage of their 
 discoveries to their successors, on the subject of evaporation, &c. ; — 
 diverging, as the remarks of others led the way, to the subject of the 
 deluge ; — marine substances found on the tops of mountains ; — the con- 
 fusion of tongues; — and lastly to the possible irruptions of the sea — 
 occasioning the waters to recede in some places, and make inroads on the 
 land in others. In reference to the latter case, the Doctor said, “ When 
 I was in the Norman Isles, I took up an old map, and traced the different 
 parts as marked out. On coming to one point, I found a castle and a 
 promontory referred to, and inquired where they were to be seen, when 
 the people told me, that they were under water, and that when the water 
 was still and clear, the ruins were still discernible at the bottom. Now,” 
 continued he, after an abrupt pause, “ I will give you an anecdote, — 
 though (referring to the writer) 
 
 ‘ A cMel’s amang you, taking notes, 
 
 And, sure, he’ll prent it.’ 
 
 It refers to the earthquake on which Mr. Fletcher has written so learnedly 
 and foolishly.^ A gentleman came to him, and stated that he had some 
 money, which he wished to lay out to the best advantage ; that he did 
 not like government security ; that banks made scarcely any returns ; 
 and that he was averse to the trouble attendant on business ; closing, 
 with, ‘I have concluded to fix it on terra Jlrma.’’ ‘ Terra firma!' ex- 
 claimed Mr. Fletcher, ‘ dare is no terra fir ma,'' It so happened, that the 
 gentleman purchased some ground on the banks of the Severn ; and that 
 
 * See Fletcher’s Works, vol. v., 207—270 ; 18mo. 
 
10 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 was the very ground where the irruption took place, and on which Mr. 
 Fletcher preached, — the estate being swallowed up on the occasion.” 
 
 Unphilosophically as the Dr. deemed Mr. Fletcher had treated some 
 parts of the subject, he valued him highly 4s a Christian and divine, and 
 could not but view in the “ Dreadful Phenomenon,” as it is termed by 
 Mr. Fletcher, a suitable occasion for the spiritual improvement of his 
 flock. He was no- ordinary observer of providence, any more than of 
 nature. “ I like to consult providence,” said he, on one occasion, “ and 
 to attend to its various openings. God may lead me on to a certain 
 extent, and expecting to go straight forward, where an object appears, 
 I may fix my eye upon it: but He, in this case, makes an abrupt 
 turn to the left : here I am obliged to follow, without knowing a 
 single step of the way ; when suddenly God has cleared my path, and 
 wrought out my deliverance. This is my frequent experience. The 
 consequence is, I have the strongest reliance on the providence of my 
 Maker.” 
 
 The introduction of an occasional circumstauce threw a gleam of light 
 on the native benignity of the Doctor’s mind.; Having a considerable 
 share of influence, during his connection with government, he was waited 
 upon by the Rev. James Bean, a clergyman of the Established Church, 
 (now no more,) who was directed to him by the higher authorities, some 
 of whom were disposed to serve him, provided he had sufficient qualifica- 
 tions for the office for which he stood a candidate. On all ceremony being 
 laid aside, and a good understanding being established between them, the 
 Eclectic Review became the subject of notice, when the Doctor, aware 
 who was the author of th,e critique on “ Zeal Without Innovation,” asked 
 Mr. Bean, whether he kn^wwho was the writer? ;Mr. Bean stated, that 
 he did not, and was led into s^me concessions as to the. authorship of the 
 work upon which the critical Nscalpel had been exercised. “What,” said 
 the Doctor, with apparent surprise, “ are you the author of ‘ Zeal With- 
 out Innovation ? ’ ” Mr. Bean, pot without fear of displeasure, from the 
 manner in which he had treated the Wesleyans in the work, ventured a 
 timid reply in the affirmative. “ Mr. Bean,” said the Doctor, “ you have 
 exercised your own judgment on the subject, and, as an honest man, have 
 given your thoughts to the world, which will decide whether you are 
 correct or otherwise : with that I have nothing to do ; but in proof of the 
 fact, that I am incapable of petty prejudice, you shall have a strong 
 recommendatory note from me, on the British Museum business ; ” and 
 upon this alone, Mr. Bean obtained the desired appointment.* A sincere 
 friendship was established between them, and the Doctor repeated to 
 
 * Mr. Bean, in addition to “ Zeal Without Innovation,” (which was reviewed by the 
 Rev. R. Hall, in the EdictiCy and is now in his works, vol. ii., p. 269, 12mo edition,) 
 published “Parochial Sermons,” 8vo, and also “Family Worship,” 8vo; the last of 
 which was spoken of in most favourable terms by Dr. Clarke. 
 
PART IV. — SECTION IV. 
 
 11 
 
 him, on one occasion, with some degree of jocularity, an epigram written 
 on his work, by Mr. T. Roberts ; — 
 
 “ What is zeal with innovation ? 
 
 Wishes to Christianise the nation. 
 
 What is zeal without it ? Wishes 
 To eat the precious loaves and fishes.” 
 
 Mr. Bean complimented the epigrammatist, and outlived some of his pre- 
 possessions against the Wesleyans, though firmly attached to the Esta- 
 blished Church. 
 
 Without any anticipatory remarks on Dr. Clarke’s great work— his 
 Commentary on the Scriptures, towards the period of the publication of 
 which we are fast approaching, and without at present touching on any 
 peculiar views which he might entertain on particular portions of the 
 Word of God, it may be observed, that, in speaking of the nachash or 
 monkey species, he states, that he had paid some attention to the habits 
 of these, as well as other, animals. He had, for a considerable time, a 
 little monkey, which had become a favourite, owing to its gentleness, 
 kindness, mimicry, and sportiveness ; but merry little Jack died ; and to 
 Mr. Me. Mcoll, who had occasionally taken an interest in his frolics, the 
 Doctor observed in a note — not without a touch of quiet humour, — 
 “ Dear Davy, — Poor Jack the monkey is dead ! He went into a decline, 
 and wasted regularly away, just like a human being in the same disease ; 
 bore all with most amiable patience, and died regretted by all who knew 
 him. I buried him in the garden, under a good piece of English 
 marble, and made an epitaph for him ! — which has been much esteemed 
 by the knowing ones ! I do assure you, I was sorry for the poor fellow’s 
 sufferings and death, and never think of him but with regret.” The 
 epitaph, as a curiosity of its kind, may here be introduced : 
 
 hi iJHemon'am, 
 
 JUCUNDI CERCOPITHECI, 
 
 QUI MULTIS PLEBILIS OBIIT 
 Novembris NONO CaLENDAS, 
 
 Anno humanje salutis 
 
 MDCCCIX. 
 
 Hoc maemor 
 ADAMUS CLEETCtJS 
 Dominus ejtjs intentus 
 Et amicus charus 
 M.®rens posuit. 
 
 In securitate imperturbata 
 Sine pcenis, sine conviciis. 
 
 Animal meum parvulum, 
 
 Mittissimum, et jucundissimum 
 
 TUI GENERIS, 
 
 Hominum ineptiarum 
 Innocuus imitator, 
 
 In jeternum 
 Requiesck. 
 
12 
 
 ADAM CLAKKE. 
 
 Another subject of the lighter kind may here be noticed. It may 
 startle some Christian readers to learn, that Dr. Clarke wrote a romance, 
 the manuscript of which, it may be added, is in the possession of the 
 biographer. An abstract from the first page will let the reader into a 
 portion of its history : 
 
 “ As writers require not only labour but rest, so those who devote 
 themselves to mental exercises, require a little occasional relaxation, that 
 they may afterward return to study with increased vigour. This, in my 
 opinion, cannot be done better than by diverting the mind on some 
 agreeable subject, where pleasure and instruction are intermingled. This 
 is indeed what I have endeavoured to accomplish in this work, in which, 
 among many pleasant fictions, I have mixed some learned railleries against 
 the ancient poets and historians, without even sparing the philosophers, 
 who have related to us as facts, many fabulous and ridiculous tales. 
 Clesias, for example, in his History of the Indies, has told us things 
 which he never either saw or heard ; and lambulus has composed an 
 ingenious History of the Wonders of the Ocean, without having the 
 smallest regard to truth. Many others have acted in a similar way, 
 relating various adventures which they state to have happened to them 
 in the course of their different voyages, interlarding the whole with de- 
 scriptions of divers monstrous animals, unheard of cruelties, and barbarous 
 and savage customs, after the manner of Homer, who describes the cap- 
 tivity of the winds, the enormous bulk of the Cyclops, the cruelty of the 
 Anthropophagi, with many-headed beasts, the metamorphosis of his com- 
 panions into swine by the charms of a witch, with several other reveries 
 relative to the Phoceis, which he has published for the entertainment of 
 the ignorant. But this is no marvel in a poet, who is accustomed to tell 
 lies, seeing we find the constant recurrence of such things among philo- 
 sophers ; I am only astonished that historians have endeavoured to 
 persuade us to believe the same monstrosities. Nevertheless, I became 
 envious, that I was the only person in the world who had not the privi- 
 lege ©f indulging in fiction, or of composing some romance in imitation of 
 those who have gone before. But I desire, in thus avowing my senti- 
 ments, to show myself more just than they ; and this avowal must serve 
 for my justification. I am now going to relate things which I have never 
 either seen or heard ; and what is more, things which have no existence, 
 nor can have any : therefore, let the reader take heed not to believe a 
 word that is penned.” — The work closes with, — There were two great 
 wonders in the king’s palace : a which was not very deep, but when 
 any one went down into it, he heard everything that was spoken upon 
 earth ; and a looking-glass^ from which everything that was done below, 
 was reflected. I have often seen my friends and acquaintance in it, but 
 do not know they saw me. Now, if any doubt of the truth of what I 
 have spoken, let him go to the same place, and when he is there, he will 
 believe me.” 
 
PAKT IV.— SECTION IV. 
 
 13 
 
 The work was written without any view to publication, — if not as a 
 relaxation from severer studies, possibly for the amusement of a friend. 
 As a specimen of the wildly imaginative, it exceeds all the wonders of 
 Thalaba — only, it wants the beauty and magnificence of that Arabian 
 fiction, as to subject, and its “Arabesque ornament” of metre; par- 
 ticipating, if possible, more largely in the improbable ; — carrying, in fact, 
 absurdity to its extreme verge, and showing whither fiction is likely to 
 lead its admirers, when once the rein is thrown on the neck of imagina- 
 tion, and a conscientious regard for truth is sacrificed by the writer. It 
 is to be viewed, in short, only in the light of a keen but merited satire on 
 the novel and romance writers of the present day ; while the reader is 
 sufficiently guarded against the credibility of the tale, by the Doctor’s 
 own regard to truth, and his censure of those who trick out fiction for 
 the purpose of polluting the imagination and corrupting the heart — 
 already sufficiently deceptive. Whatever might be his peculiar views 
 on the subject of his juvenile library, he deeply lamented the pestiferous 
 character of the romances and novels of the day. Dr. Clarke’s laudable 
 object in the work, was that of recording a condemnatory sentence 
 against this species of writing, as food for the public ; so that his object 
 appears to have been less his own amusement or relaxation from severe 
 thought, than the benefit of others, in this little satirical sally. He was 
 indeed, not one of those men who required much of such employment ; he 
 had that within himself which rendered it unnecessary : “I am thankful 
 to God,” said he one day to the writer, “ for a natural flow of spirits ; 
 and I rarely get to the end of them : had this not been the case, I should 
 have been dead long ago ; but the spirit helps the flesh and bears me up : 
 and so long as ^Ye keep on the innocent side of that which God has given, 
 all is well.” 
 
 In the onward course of conversation, reference w^as made to pecu- 
 liarities connected with official situations, calculated to check a natural 
 flow of animal spirits. Among these, the instance of a judge passing 
 sentence upon a criminal the first time, was adduced, as likely to be 
 exceedingly painful, even allowing for a previous course of discipline at 
 the bar, during which several persons might have been executed on 
 evidence he himself had elicited, and the arguments he had adduced. “ I 
 was personally acquainted with Sir H. W.,” observed the Doctor; “he 
 told me that such w^as the effect made upon him by pronouncing the 
 extreme sentence of the law upon a man, when on the bench, for the first 
 time, that it nearly cost him his life ; he subsequently received an 
 appointment in India. In the course of his official duties, a Hindoo 
 brought before him a complaint of improper treatment which he had 
 experienced at the hand of a European, in consequence of some trifling 
 disagreement respecting an article of Avorkmanship done by the former 
 for the latter, who commanded him to be beaten by his servant. Sir 
 
14 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 H. W. immediately issued a warrant for the apprehension of the 
 offending European, and fined him a piece of gold for every stripe he had 
 occasioned to be given. This instantly spread through India, and the 
 Colonial government complained, stating that it was placing the natives 
 on a level with Europeans, and that it would lead to the subversion of all 
 authority. The consequence was, the recall of Sir H. W. He imme- 
 diately memorialized the House of Commons on the occasion, which 
 objected to the subject, — telling Sir H. W. that he had his pension, and 
 of course sustained no loss by the circumstance of being recalled. The 
 reply furnished to this was, that he would sooner forfeit every sixpence, 
 than not be heard, and that justice should not be done to the injured : 
 remonstrance, however, then proved ineffectual.” Law being still the 
 theme, the Doctor added, that on Judge Bailey being asked which was 
 the most likely way to obtain a suit, he replied, You must have a good 
 cause — a good attorney — a good jury — a good judge ” — subjoining signifi- 
 cantly and emphatically, and lastly, good luck," 
 
 While Dr. Clarke delighted himself and others by notices of any- 
 thing that would reflect honour on the character and proceedings of dis- 
 tinguished men, he never failed to give human nature its due, in oppo- 
 sition to those who are in the habit of proclaiming its dignity. “ Were it 
 not,” said he, “for the restraining grace of God, man would go on 
 destroying his fellow, till the last villain would be found standing alone on 
 the earth, and the devil the only personage left to bury him.” Some 
 persons being represented as “ new creatures in Christ Jesus,” of whose 
 tempers and conduct he did not exactly approve, — “ If these,” said he, 
 “ are new creatures,^ what must they have been while they were old 
 ones ? ” 
 
 As few things escaped his observation on the subject of Methodism 
 and its literature, the following remarks may here be introduced, as con- 
 nected with the hymns generally sung in the body : 
 
 Dr. Clarke . — “ Latterly, I have given out but few verses in connection 
 with public worship. I am less in love with singing than formerly, in 
 consequence of a growing passion among us for instrumental music.” 
 
 Mr. R . — “The preachers must find it a great annoyance to be inter- 
 rupted either in their devotions or studies, just before service, by having 
 the hymn-book presented to them by the leader of the singers, for the 
 hymns intended to be sung.” 
 
 Dr. C . — “ I invariably refuse an indulgence of that kind, as I am not 
 always fixed as to subject ; but take care to give sufficient time for the 
 selection of the page, hymn, and tune.” 
 
 Mr, S . — “ Singing constitutes an important part of devotion.” 
 
 Dr. C . — “ With many, it is a mere animal exercise, and not so much 
 the medium of receiving good as of destroying evil. I shall never forget 
 a remark of Mr. John Allen, towards the close of a warm debate in Con- 
 
PART IV. — SECTION IV. 
 
 15 
 
 ference : ‘ Let us sing a hymn,’ said he, ‘ and get rid of this improper 
 feeling.’ ” 
 
 Mr. L . — “ Congregational singing appears to have been carried to 
 high perfection in Mr. Wesley’s day.” . 
 
 Dr, 0. — “Mr. Wesley was extremely partial to vocal music, and 
 loved to hear the men and women take their separate parts. The con- 
 gregation being out once, he said, ‘ You sing that tune wrong.’ Then 
 giving the air of the tune with an inclination to the nasal, (which the 
 Doctor imitated with good effect,) he said, ‘ You should sing it as brother 
 Bradford and I do.’ But his voice, whatever it might be in early life, 
 was, as far as singing is concerned, anything, at that time, but sweet and 
 harmonious.” 
 
 Mr. R . — “ Did not the circumstance of the males and females taking 
 their separate parts, lead to repetition ? ” 
 
 Dr. C . — “Not in such tunes as are to be found in the ‘ Sacred Har- 
 mony,’ or in tunes generally allowed by Mr. Wesley. ‘ There is as much 
 piety,’ said he once, ‘ in a six or eight lines repetition, as there is in a 
 Lancashire hornpipe ; ’ and he was perfectly correct : those pieces are next 
 to profane, in which the name of God is so often repeated ; they have an 
 injurious effect on the moral feeling, and this leads me to dislike them.” 
 Turning to Mr. M., whose taste was somewhat vitiated in singing, and 
 anxious to promote a cure, he proceeded — under the persuasion that a little 
 burlesque might be helpful, — “ In your famous tune, in which the word 
 hallelujah is so often repeated, there is a snappishness in hallel., as though, 
 while giving utterance to it, you would snap the nose from the face of an 
 angel : it is so marred, both in the English and in other languages, that 
 it would be difficult even for an angel to comprehend its meaning.” * 
 
 Mr. S . — “ Do you not think that instrumental music in a place of 
 worship is helpful to singing, Dr. Clarke ? ” 
 
 Dr. C . — “ No : and if God spare my life, I hope to deliver my senti- 
 ments to the Methodist body on the subject in such a way as God, in the 
 order of his providence, shall register to the end of time.” 
 
 Mr. E . — “ For congregational worship, some of the old tunes can 
 scarcely be surpassed.” 
 
 Dr. C. — “ Take ‘ Marianborne ’ — the fullest, finest, most majestic 
 
 ♦ In sedater mood, the Doctor’s language is — “ The word rr* ibbn, hallelu-Tah, 
 pram ye Jah, or Jehovah, which the Septuagint, and St. John from them, put into Greek 
 letters, thus, AXkr\\ovia, allelou-ia, is a form of praise which the heathen appear to have 
 borrowed from the Jews, as is evident from tlaeiv p deans, or hymns in honour of Apollo, 
 which began and ended with eXeXeu iVj, eleleu ie; a mere corruption of the Hebrew 
 words. It is worthy of remark, that the Indians of North America have the same word 
 in their religious worship, and use it in the same sense. ‘ In their places of worship, or 
 beloved square,’ says Adair, in his History of the American Indians, ‘ they dance some- 
 times for a whole night, always in a bowing posture, and frequently singing halleluyah, 
 Te ho wah ; praise ye Yah, Ye ho vah : ’ probably the true pronunciation of the Hebrew 
 nin", which we call Jehovah.” 
 
16 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 tune we have : a tune like that is admirably adapted to the hymn begin- 
 ning with — ‘ Lo ! God is here ! let us adore.’ The punctuation of the last 
 line of the first verse of that hymn, by the way, is faulty : a comma 
 should have followed ‘ reverence ; ’ then — which is the proper meaning — 
 it would have been, we ‘ serve ’ him with ‘ awe,’ we ‘ serve ’ him with 
 ‘reverence,’ we ‘ serve ’ him with ‘ love,’ instead of ‘Serve him with awe, 
 with reverence love.’ There is an unfortunate collocation, also, in the 
 fifth verse, where the ‘ sea,’ rather than ‘ man,’ falls ‘ prostrate.’ ” 
 
 Mr. S . — Giving the air of a tune, — “ That will go very well to the 
 hymn on page 465, ‘ Come let us anew. Our journey pursue. With vigour 
 arise.’ ” 
 
 Dr, C. — “ Yes, you may lilt away with that, and keep pace with the 
 motion of a vessel on the ocean, when the waves are beating time against 
 her sides. I like none of those light airs in a place of worship.” 
 
 Mr, E, — “ There are some fine hymns included in those ‘ Describing 
 judgment.’ ” 
 
 Dr. C. — “ Take, among others, ‘ Stand th’ omnipotent decree.’ The 
 closing line forms an admirable climax — ‘ And both fly up to heaven.’ 
 But the tune which has just been sung to it, falls flat upon the ear : one 
 should have been selected which would have risen with the words — higher 
 and higher — just as ‘ the heavenly spirit towers,’ and ‘ mounts above the 
 wreck.’ ^ There is another fine hymn in the anapaestic form — ‘Away 
 
 * This Hymn was introduced into the first edition of Dr. Clarke’s Notes, and was 
 the subject of a subsequent conversation, which occasioned a slight reduction of praise 
 in the second, as to originality. The biographer asked the Doctor whether he was 
 aware that the first and second verses of the Hymn were a mere transcript of a part 
 of the Sixth Canto of Young’s “ Night Thoughts,” the blank verse being turned into 
 rhi/me f he stated, that he had no recollection of what was referred to. The passage was 
 then adverted to, in connection with the Hymn. 
 
 Young. 
 
 ‘‘If so decreed, th’ Almighty’s will be done. 
 
 Let earth dissolve, yon x>ond’rous orbs descend, 
 
 And grind us into dust : the soul is safe : 
 
 The man emerges ; mounts above the wreck, 
 
 As tow’ring flame from nature’s funeral pyre : 
 
 O’er devastation as a gainer smiles.” 
 
 C. Wesley. 
 
 “ Stand th’ omnipotent decree : 
 
 Jehovah’s will be done ! 
 
 Nature’s end we wait to see, 
 
 And hear her final groan : 
 
 Let this earth dissolve, and blend 
 In death the wicked with the just j 
 Let those ponderous orbs descend. 
 
 And grind us into dust. 
 
 “ Rests secure the righteous man ! 
 
 At his Redeemer’s beck. 
 
 Sure to emerge, and rise again, 
 
 And mount above the wreck ; 
 
PART lY. — ^SECTION IV. 
 
 17 
 
 with our sorrow and fear,’ which is often sung to a tune selected for, ‘All 
 glory to God in the sky.’ Though Mr. Wesley was averse to repetitions 
 generally, he Hked the repetition in that, because it furnished an occasion 
 for the males and females taking their separate parts.” 
 
 The doctrine of Christian perfection was adverted to, which is forcibly 
 advocated by Charles Wesley, in his hymns. The Doctor observed, that 
 “ when his friend, Mr. Robert Roberts, between whom and himself there 
 was the most cordial affection, was at Alnwick, he went to hear 
 Mr. Marshall, a burgher minister, preach. Mr. M. perceiving him in the 
 congregation, availed himself of the opportunity of going a little out of 
 his v/ay for the purpose of reaching him, by stating, in broad Scotch, 
 
 Lo ! the heavenly spirit towers, 
 
 Like flame o’er nature’s funeral pyre. 
 
 Triumphs in immortal powers, 
 
 And claps her wings of fire.” 
 
 Mr. Clarke, one of the Doctor’s sons, who was present on the occasion, observed, 
 that “the date of the composition, and next to that, of the publication, would deter- 
 mine to which of the writers the charge of plagiarism belonged.” It was replied to 
 this, that, as the men had no communication with each other, and were therefore not 
 likely to have access to each other’s manuscript treasures, the time of publication 
 would be the fittest criterion by which to judge. This was soon determined. Dr. John- 
 son, in his life of Young, states, “ The Night Thoughts were begun immediately after the 
 mournful event ” — ^referring to the death of his wife, “of 1741. The first ‘Nights’ 
 appear, in the books of the Company of Stationers, as the property of Robert Dodsley, 
 in 1742. The Preface to * Night Seventh' is dated July 7th, 1744.” From hence it 
 appears, that the six first books were before the public prior to the seventh. The Hymns 
 of Charles Wesley were first published in 2 vols. 12mo, in 1749, by Felix Farley, of 
 Bristol j but the Hymn in question is not to be found there : nor yet in the “ Hymn and 
 Tune Book,” of 1761. It is inserted, however, in the 3rd edition of the Large Hymn 
 Book, published in 1782. In what other earlier collection it appeared remains to be shown . 
 Still the remaining part of the hymn, — characterised by Montgomery as a “ daring and 
 victorious flight,” affords proof, that though he set out with the pinions of another, he 
 not only tried, but successfully mounted on his own, before he descended from the 
 heights to which he had been enabled to soar : and it detracts little from a man like 
 Charles Wesley, who had so much originality of his own, to state, that high as he 
 soared in the region of song, he often winged his way to still greater heights, when 
 he caught a noble thought from some one of the poets, or a passage from the Sacred 
 Writings, distinguished for its sublimity. 
 
 This notice of Young’s “ Night Thoughts,” in connection with Charles Wesley, led 
 to other remarks, when Dr. Clarke stated, that two of the old preachers, who had read 
 the poem, and had been charmed with the manner in which the poet had descanted on 
 the subject of Redemption,— inferring from thence that the strains could only flow 
 from a heart distinguished for the deepest piety, put themselves to some inconvenience 
 to pay him a visit. On being introduced, and stating the pleasure with which they had 
 read his poem, the Doctor asked them— waiving all higher considerations, what news 
 they had ? They told him, in the simplicity of their souls, that the chief news which 
 they had to communicate was, that the Lord was enlarging his dominions, by bringing 
 sinners to himself. The Doctor, apparently , engrossed with other things, again 
 enquired— supposing them to have been recently in the metropolis, what was the 
 last news they had ? when they again replied, that they knew no better tidings than the 
 increasing prosperity of the work of God. It was not long before they found a wide 
 difference between the poem and the poet, and concluded that either the poet knew 
 nothing of experimental religion, or was otherwise averse to its introduction. 
 
 VOL. II. C 
 
18 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 ‘ There are some folk doon the street, wha hald the doactrine o’ parefac- 
 tion, — they talk aboot it, — but the back o’ my ban to them.’ Mr. Roberts 
 said, in relating the circumstance to me, ‘ I could have reasoned on the 
 subject, and could have quoted scripture in defence of the doctrine ; but 
 what reply could be given to that ? it was unanswerable ! ’ ” * This 
 brought into notice. Law, on “ Christian Perfection,” together with his 
 other works, when the Doctor observed, “Law has very little of the 
 atonement ; his works are useful to persons already converted, and may 
 guide them in their Christian course, but they are not at all calculated to 
 bring sinners to God.” 
 
 Having, in the course of reading, dropped on the twenty-fifth chapter 
 of Job, he coupled, in some remarks v/hich he made, with the fifth verse 
 — “ the stars are not pure in his sight,” those other passages — “ his angels 
 he charged with folly,” and ‘Hhe heavens are not clean in his sight ; ” and 
 showed the absurdity of the inference drawn by Mr. Hervey from these 
 texts against the doctrine of holiness : the first intimating, that whatever 
 excellence there may be in them as stars, it sinks into insignificance in 
 comparison with Him from whom they derive their existence and splen- 
 dour ; but by no means contradict the fact, that “ a man can be justified 
 with God,” through the blood of Christ, and that “he can be clean who 
 is born of a woman,” through the sanctification of the Spirit. “The 
 second passage,” he observed, “ is often perverted, by substituting the 
 past for the present tense : it is not chargeth^ but charged; he charged 
 those with folly, who kept not their first estate. But we have no proof 
 that he is charging others in the same way, who maintained their sted- 
 fastness : and still, there is not anything in this that operates against the 
 doctrine of Christian holiness. As to the third, with its connection, ‘ he 
 putteth no trust in his saints — yea, the heavens are not clean in his sight,’ 
 — God knows that there is not anything absolutely immutable but Himself, 
 and that no intelligent being can subsist in a state of purity^ unless con- 
 tinually dependent upon, and deriving constant supplies of grace, power, 
 and light from Him who gave them their being. He alone is immutable ; 
 saints may fall — angels may fall,— all their goodness is derived and depen- 
 dent ; the heavens themselves have no purity compared with His. Here 
 also, the doctrine of Christian perfection is untouched.” He proceeded ; 
 “ The book of Job is an extraordinary production : it comprises all the 
 philosophy, all the natural history, all the astronomy, and all the theology 
 of the East, known in that day, either in the way of statement, illustra- 
 tion, or allusion.” 
 
 Taking a beautiful little edition of Virgil from his pocket, he put it 
 into the hands of Mr. T. S. Clarke, and requested him to read the 
 
 ♦ The biographer, when a boy, occasionally sat under the ministry of Mr. M., who 
 was then an old man. He sustained a good Christian character, and his hear®rs were 
 much attached to him — distinguished generally for a decent moral exterior. 
 
PAKT IV. — SECTION IV. 
 
 19 
 
 PoLLio. During the course of the reading concerning the extraordinary 
 personage then about to be born, who should introduce a golden age into 
 the world, and restore all things, the Doctor interrupted him, every now 
 and then, applying different passages to the birth of Christ — the Gospel 
 — ^its effects — the millennium, &c. The writer told him he might thank 
 his own Christian light and training for the power to apply and interpret 
 the passages as he did.* His remarks were learned, appropriate, ingenious, 
 and sometimes playful. In this way, he occasionally employed the social 
 hour, kindly instructing those who had less reading than himself. 
 
 * Leslie is also very happy in the employment of this argument in his ‘‘Short and 
 Easy Method with the Deists.’* 
 
PAET V. 
 
 SECTION L— 1810. 
 
 Men will be apt to call it pulling up the old foundation of knowledge ; I persuade' 
 myself that the way I have pursued lays those foundations surer/* — Anonymous. 
 
 ‘‘ A knowledge of the truth is equal to the task both of discerning and of confuting 
 all false assertions and erroneous arguments, though never before met with, if only 
 they may be freely brought forward.” — A ugustine. 
 
 Is not from hence the way that leadeth right 
 To that most glorious house that glistereth bright 
 With burning stars, and ever-living fire. 
 
 Whereof the keys are to thy hand behight ? ** — Spenceh. 
 
 We have now arrived at a period in the life of Dr. Clarke, in which the 
 stores and endowments of his mind were to be concentrated upon a sub- 
 ject of universal importance, and universal interest. The light which had 
 for many years been gathering and expanding within him, was now to 
 break forth in all its purity, brightness, and usefulness, upon the world : 
 what had been read, observed, and acquired, was to be eminently conse- 
 crated to the service of God, in the contemplated benefit of mankind • 
 and as he had never either preached or written for the sake of signalizing 
 himself, so now he was eager to scatter around him the rich fruits of a 
 diligent and successful seed time, for the purpose of benefiting others. 
 The nature of the great work in which he was about to engage, (a Com- 
 mentary on the Sacred Scriptures,) required great labour and research. 
 The acuteness and strength of his intellect, the character of his studies, 
 his deep and enlightened piety, and the preparations already made, will 
 enable the reader to form some idea of his qualifications for the task now 
 to be undertaken.* Instructed in the Scriptures from his youth, and 
 deeply imbued with their spirit, he dived into the more hidden mysteries 
 of the things of God. His extensive knowledge, too, of oriental literature 
 and usages ; his taste for all that was curious and scientific ; his spirit of 
 intelligent enquiry, which led to obtaining an insight into subjects which 
 would escape the observation of most persons; his general philosophic 
 knowledge; and above all, his familiarity with the varied character of 
 
 * The reader may here, if necessary and so disposed, refresh his memory, by a re- 
 perusal of Part ii. Section v. ; also Part iii Section i of this Memoir. 
 
PART V. — SECTION I. 
 
 21 
 
 men, — with the springs and motives of action, and the intricate windings 
 of the human heart; — all combined to constitute him an able com- 
 mentator upon a book which required the above qualifications for its 
 proper elucidation. His object in studying the inspired volume, from 
 beginning to end, was to discover the mind of God towards man, in 
 reference to his restoration to the divine image. He knew the Bible was 
 not a creed but a revelation ^ — that it was not a dry analysis— ^a rigid 
 summary, in which Truth, though it looked a body, was indeed but a 
 dead body. To his extended and ever deepening survey, truth lay there 
 in mountain masses — in depths, lengths, breadths, and heights, which 
 disdained all formal, scholastic, and sectarian admeasurements. In it he 
 saw revealed the depth, the breadth, and the fulness of God’s mercy to a 
 fallen world, glorious with the mighty theme of its redemption by the 
 Son of his love ; and this view of the sacred volume inspired his mind 
 with a power, and energy, and elasticity of thought, which “ travelled 
 through eternity ; ” and thus was his intellect richly freighted for all the 
 purposes of the vast undertaking ; — acquiring buoyancy and light as he 
 proceeded ; growing more consciously great as he became more divinely 
 fitted for the work ; and nobly surmounting the difficulties, and over- 
 coming the discouragements, which occasionally opposed his progress. 
 His prime object was to leave no insurmountable difficulty in the sacred 
 word, and to set every doctrine in as full and clear light as possible. 
 With this feeling of the importance of his work, he read the whole 
 Hebrew Bible, so weighing every fact and word as to be able fully to 
 -enter into the spirit and design of the different writers in the inspired 
 volume, and to see on what ground those doctrines stood which are generally 
 received among Christians, — particularly the doctrines of the atonement, 
 influence of the Spirit, justification by faith, purification of the heart, 
 and duration of final rewards and punishments ; and all others collaterally 
 connected with them. He sat down to this work with an anxiously en- 
 quiring mind, determining to form his judgments as the issue of this 
 enquiry might be; and that he might make no false conclusions, he 
 earnestly implored direction from the “ Father of Lights.” Few men 
 ever examined the Hebrew Bible as he did at this time : he had, it is true, 
 comparative leisure ; that is, he had nothing to do but to preach in the 
 evenings, and attend to the Record Commission. As he proceeded in the 
 examination, he noted down in proper books, everythiug of importance 
 which occurred in the examination of facts and words^ and especially such 
 things as commentators had left unnoticed, or perverted through their 
 ignorance of the original language, or their attacWent to their different 
 theological systems. Many difficulties and perplexities attended such 
 investigations ; but he would not proceed till he had done the utmost in 
 his power to make everything plain. ,^This led to the close examination of 
 all the original texts and versions, from which (especially the Samaritan, 
 
22 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 Chaldee, Targum, Septuagint, and Vulgate,) he derived much assistance. 
 When this work was finished, he found himself in possession of some 
 thousands of notes on every part of the Bible, all produced in regular 
 order ; and these he occasionally revised and improved, up to the period 
 of which we now speak. 
 
 And thus, as he rose above common discouragements, so he did like- 
 wise above common engagements, in the progress of this undertaking. 
 He “ viewed the Scriptures as a rich mine, which he wished to dig to the 
 bottom of ; ” and while, on the one hand, we find him complaining that 
 his “ instruments were not good, nor his strength sufficient for the task,’’ 
 we hear him, on the other, expressing himself as “experiencing great 
 delight in examining and illustrating the Holy Scriptures, and as having 
 no relish for any other kind of work ; believing that God, in the course 
 of his providence, had called him especially to this one, for which he had 
 spent many years in qualifying himself, and which had cost severe 
 thought, intense anxiety, and great labour.” 
 
 The somewhat perilous situation of the Church in the present day, 
 renders the study of the Scriptures binding, irrespectively, upon all ; and 
 while we feel a tribute of grateful acknowledgment to be due to those 
 fathers of the early Church, to whom reference is ever and anon made, 
 and who by their learning and piety threw such a halo of light on the 
 sacred volume, and gave so much perspicuity of interpretation to many 
 “ things hard to be understood,” no less tribute is due to a man of piety 
 and letters in our own day, who comes forward and lends his hand and 
 his heart to such an undertaking. As we would see the Scriptures 
 universally disseminated, so would we wish them fairly interpreted ; and 
 we should as much dread the princijple which would deprecate a lucid and 
 unreserved exposition of the doctrines of the inspired volume, as we 
 should the one which would hinder or circumscribe its circulation. The 
 fathers of the Mcene church, to whose expository tomes we have just 
 adverted, would afford a bright example, in this respect, to those of our 
 own day, who, while they profess to revere their characters, and imitate 
 their actions, choose rather to follow them in disputable points, than take 
 them as guides in this one. Gregory, Augustine, and Chrysostom, would 
 no more have thought of keeping back the great doctrines of the Bible 
 from the common people, than of denouncing the twelve apostles as 
 enthusiasts, who neither knew nor understood the things whereof they 
 affirmed. 
 
 If the statements of Taylor, in his “ Ancient Christianity,” be correct, 
 the Nicene church was far from being apostolical, or that model of per- 
 fection to which the Tractarians would fain have the modern Church to 
 conform itself. Indeed, it is singular and melancholy to observe, that 
 Christianity had scarcely alighted upon our world, ere it was disfigure<l 
 and corrupted in various ways by the depravity of men. Nothing can 
 
PART V. — SECTION I. 
 
 23 
 
 present a greater contrast to the manly wisdom of the apostles, than the 
 puerile, senseless rites prescribed by some of the fathers ! But we recur 
 to our inestimable source of consolation, “ The word of the Lord liveth 
 and abideth for ever ! ” 
 
 Notwithstanding the repeated entreaties of his friends, Dr. Clarke 
 delayed, until the close of the year 1809, to appear formally before the 
 public, to solicit attention to his forthcoming Commentary, which, how- 
 ever, he then announced in the following manner : — “ The Holy Bible, 
 containing the Old and New Testaments : the Text carefully printed from 
 the most correct copies of the present Authorized Translation ; including 
 the Marginal Headings, and Parallel Texts. With a Commentary and 
 Critical Notes ; designed as a help to a better understanding of the Sacred 
 Writings.” But even then, the probability was against its appearance, 
 had it not been for a trifling incident which occurred, and which may be 
 classed with many other apparently insignificant forerunners of important 
 events. Supping one evening in company with Messrs. Butterworth, 
 Bulmer, Middleton, and some other friends, conversation turned upon the 
 subject in question ; when the Doctor was induced to mention the progress 
 he had made in the work. This led to a renewal of the entreaties of the 
 party, that he should immediately proceed with its publication ; when 
 Mr. Butterworth proposed to take upon himself the whole of the respon- 
 siWlity. The result was, the immediate issue of a prospectus, a copy of 
 which will be found in Dr. Clarke’s “ Miscellaneous Works,” vol. xi., p. 
 466, in which he gives a minute narrative of his labours. On this followed 
 a letter from Mr. Butterworth, dated January, 1810, addressed chiefly to 
 the Wesleyan body. 
 
 “ I lately published a prospectus of Dr. Adam Clarke’s Commentary 
 on the Old and New Testament, which will, I expect, be stitched in' the 
 Methodist and Evangelical Magazines, the Christian Observer^ and the 
 Eclectic Revieiv^ for the next month. I now beg leave to solicit your 
 kind assistance, in giving further publicity to the work in the circle of 
 your acquaintance ; and as it is very desirable to ascertain the probable 
 number of copies which may be wanted, I shall esteem it an additional 
 favour, if before, or during the month of ApHl next, you could, through 
 the superintendant preacher of your circuit, oblige me with information 
 of the number of copies likely to sell in your class or neighbourhood. 
 An impression has been received, that this will be merely a critical, 
 learned, voluminous, and expensive Commentary : it may, therefore^ be 
 necessary again to refer to the advertisement, in which Dr. C. expressly 
 states, that in his work, " the great doctrines of the Law and Gospel of 
 God, are defined, illustrated, and defended ; ’ and that '‘the whole is applied 
 to the important purposes of practical Christianity and vital godliness: ’ 
 and for a more particular view of the leading objects of the work, I beg 
 
24 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 leave to refer you to the third page of the prospectus. Most certainly, much 
 learning, original information, and sound criticism may be expected from 
 Adam Clarke, and that his work should not consist of mere common-place 
 remarks, nor of unworthy compilation from other authors : but it would 
 be injurious to his character, and to the cause he has so deeply at heart, to 
 suppose that he should merely present a collection of dry, learned 
 criticisms to the Christian world, and not intend his work for the 
 particular henefit of families^ and private individuals ; when it is so well 
 known, that to labour zealously, not for the display of his learning, but 
 for the salvation and edification of souls, has been the chief business of 
 his life. With respect to his criticisms. Dr. C. states in his prospectus, 
 that he has endeavoured to render them as ‘plain and intelhgible as 
 possible ; ’ so that ‘ the most uninformed reader cannot stumble at anything 
 of this kind he may meet ; ’ and that ‘ nothing is introduced from foreign 
 languages without a translation.’ Instead of the work being ‘very 
 voluminous,’ Dr. C. pledges himself in his prospectus, ‘ that it shall not 
 and adds, ‘ I labour with all my might and skill, to say as little as possible 
 on each part, as far as is consistent with perspicuity ; and to avoid, as 
 much as possible, even the appearance of encumbering the sacred text.’ 
 It remains for me to say a few words on the expense. All who are 
 acquainted with Dr. Clarke, are well aware of the noble generosity, and 
 entire disinterestedness of his character ; and that to make money has 
 been the furthest object from his thoughts. He states, in the note to the 
 second page of his octavo prospectus, that he has given away four different 
 collections of Notes and Observations, which he had made on different 
 parts of Scripture : and it was in consequence of some of his notes 
 appearing in print, that he was at length persuaded to hasten the pubhcation 
 of his present work. As to myself, it is true I have undertaken to get it 
 printed ; but I can assure you, I do not intend to gain any profit by it 
 whatever. My great objects are, to give the work a wide circulation, in 
 order that it may do as much good as possible, and that some little pro- 
 vision may be made from it, towards the support of our friend, his wife 
 and six children, as his state of health renders him unable to take the 
 usual labour of a circuit. It is expected that the whole of the Bible and 
 Commentary will be published at about six^ but not to exceed eight guineas; 
 and as it will published in parts^ at distant periods, price only 10s. 6d. 
 each, and also in shilling numbers^ to be taken in once a week, fortnight, 
 month, or whenever convenient^ it is presumed that the generality of people 
 may be able, in due time, to accomplish the purchase. But, as the cheap- 
 ness of the work must in a great measure depend upon the number of 
 copies printed, it becomes very important to enlarge the number as much 
 as possible. A larger number, as all know who are acquainted with the 
 printing business, can be executed at a much less expense in proportion, 
 than a small number : and it is intended, in the course of publication, to 
 
PAKT V. — SECTION I. 
 
 25 
 
 give a larger quantity of letter-press for the money, than is stated in the 
 proposals, if the charges of the work should admit of it. 
 
 “ I am, with much respect, your affectionate and obedient servant, — 
 Joseph Butterworth. 
 
 “ P.S. The names of subscribers will be received by any of the 
 Methodist preachers in town and country ; but no money to be paid till 
 the delivery of the work.” 
 
 Though Dr. Clarke objected to subscriptions, as noticed in another 
 case, he was not opposed, as a prudential measure, to the act of canvassing 
 for subscribers, though one of the last men to appear himself in the work. 
 From this he was saved, through the voluntary and kind intervention of 
 Mr. Butterworth, who was, in a brief space, favoured with a list of 1,600 
 subscribers, among whom were some of the nobility — Lord Teignmouth 
 being among the foremost, several members of the Established Church, 
 Dissenters, and others. With this anticipatory tribute paid to the author, 
 the work was sent to press nearly with the commencement of the year, 
 and such were the sanguine hopes of success entertained by Mr. Butter- 
 worth, that 10,000 copies were ordered to be struck off, on common paper, 
 4to demy; and 1,000 of the fine, or large paper copy : nor were his expec- 
 tations too enlarged, for 750 additional copies had to be printed of the 
 Pentateuch, and also of St. Matthew’s Gospel, of the common copy, as 
 well as an additional number of the large paper impression. With all 
 the Doctor’s anxiety and care to moderate the size and price of the work, 
 the common paper copy was published at £14, and the fine at £23. It 
 was found necessary, also, to vary the price of the different j^arts^ by way 
 of preserving the books, gospels, and epistles commented on, entire ; and 
 hence some were somewhat above, and others below the standard price 
 originally proposed by Mr. Butterworth. 
 
 Another reason why the Commentary was published in parts, besides 
 that of suiting the convenience of purchasers, was, the Doctor’s state of 
 health — ^he scarcely dared to calculate on its completion ; observing to the 
 writer, that he never considered himself pledged to the public to complete 
 it, and that it was less necessary to do so, from the fact of each book 
 being distinct and perfect in itself. So far down as 1816, he stated to the 
 biographer, that it was not his intention to publish anything either on the 
 Song of Solomon or the Apocalypse ; not only because of the difficulty 
 he had to satisfy his own mind on several points, but from a fear that he 
 should not be able to render these books sufficiently instructive to general 
 readers. After making up his mind to furnish notes on both, the Bev. 
 W. Jay of Bath, who met him at Mr. Butterworth ’s, said, “ Allow me. 
 Dr. Clarke, to request you not to disturb the Song of Solomon ; many 
 devout persons consider it to be a conversation between Christ and his 
 Church ; that opinion, to say the least, is pious and harmless, and it is a 
 
26 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 pity to unsettle their faith.” The Doctor replied, — “ To such interpreta- 
 tions I can attach no degree of credit ; the book cannot be considered in 
 any other light than that of a poem, — a point which is capable of being 
 illustrated by expressions, &c., employed by the Eastern poets; and unless 
 a direct revelation from God stated this to refer to Christ, and that to 
 the Church, I could not adopt the mode of interpretation given to it by 
 several of our expositors.”* 
 
 On the publication of the Doctor’s prospectus, a writer in the Ghristian 
 Observer^ whose initials were T. S.,t took exception to the following 
 passage, “ the Septuagint was the version to which our blessed Lord and 
 his apostles had constant recourse, and from which they made all their 
 quotations.” In a letter to the conductors of that excellent periodical, 
 dated May 26, 1810, and which is inserted in Dr. Clarke’s “ Miscellaneous 
 Works,” vol. X., p. 368, he not only established his position, but with fine 
 temper, smartness, and scholarship, removed the ground from beneath the 
 feet of his opponent. Since then — though not precisely in the same way, 
 or to the same extent — both Sir Lancelot C. L. Brenton, Bart., and Dr. 
 Wall, have rendered good service to biblical students. One great ques- 
 tion connected with it, and which, as a critic rightly observes, is to be 
 decided, is the extent to which Hellenization was carried in central and 
 western Asia, under the Macedonian empire of Alexander and his suc- 
 cessors. Egypt, under the Ptolemies, is the portion of that empire of 
 which we have the most perfect account, and there can be little doubt 
 that the language and literature became perfectly Greek. There is evi- 
 dence that the Seleucidse endeavoured to bring about the same change in 
 their Syrian kingdom ; and though they were not equally successful, we 
 find, from the New Testament, that the Greek was the commonly spoken 
 language in Palestine itself ; so that when Christ on the cross made an 
 exclamation in Syrian, {Eli, Eli, lama sahacthani,) the bystanders did 
 not understand his words, (they said, “ He calleth for Elias.”) It is 
 noticed as a remarkable circumstance, that St. Paul on one occasion ad- 
 
 * The Doctor’s Introduction to the book is full of varied learning and research, and 
 is distinguished for some nice balancing of expository opinion. His general opinion 
 was, that “ it is a very fine ode : ” and the poems to which he had special reference, in 
 his remarks to Mr. Jay, were those of Jayadeva an ancient Hindoo poet, which he con- 
 sidered very similar both in construction and phraseology to the book of Canticles, 
 and the poet himself, who flourished before the Christian sera, the finest lyric poet in 
 all India The Doctor met with a part of the Gitagovinda in 1798, as noticed Part iii.. 
 Sect. i. of these memoirs, which forms the tenth book of the Bhagavet, written pro- 
 fessedly to celebrate the loves of ChrisJina and Radha, or the reciprocal attraction between 
 the Divine goodness and the human soul. He cautioned young Ministers especially against 
 preaching on Solomon’s Song. “ If,” said he, “ they take a text out of it, to proclaim 
 salvation to lost sinners, they must borrow their doctrines from other portions of 
 Scripture, where all is plain and pointed. And why then leave such, and go out of their 
 way to find allegorical meanings, taking a whole book by storm, and leaving the word 
 of God to serve tables ? ” 
 
 t The Rev. Tliomn<? Scott, nuthor of an excellent Commentary on the Bible. 
 
PAllT V. — SECTION 1. 
 
 27 
 
 dressed a Jewish mob in the Hebrew tongue ; and far the greater part, if 
 not the whole of the Hew Testament was written in Greek. Then comes 
 the fact, that the quotations made from the Old Testament in the New, 
 as shown by Dr. Clarke, are taken from the Septuagint, or, if even driven 
 to that, some other Greek version, and not in any demonstrable case from 
 the original Hebrew. It is not necessary to extend this enquiry further, 
 else it would be easy to show, that the Jews who settled in Alexandria 
 exercised a very decided influence over their brethren in Palestine, and 
 that this influence increased the tendency to Hellenism, which it was the 
 policy of the Macedonian rulers to establish. 
 
 In addition to the original Hebrew and Greek languages, with others, 
 ancient and modern. Dr. Clarke made free use in his notes of a fine old 
 MS. Bible, to which slight reference has been made, attributed by some 
 to Widiff^ and by others to an older translator, and which he highly valued 
 for its simplicity — as being in many cases, (though in the main taken from 
 the Yulgate,) much more faithful to the meaning of the Hebrew text 
 than our own version — and as one of the finest specimens of our mother 
 tongue, spoken in these countries in m.ccclx, which was about the period 
 assigned for its translation. This black-letter treasure was purchased for 
 him by Mr. Baines, when in London, in 1795, at the sale of the library 
 of Dr. Fell, Principal of the Dissenting College of Hackney, at a mere 
 nominal price. Mr. Baines had only one competitor — a gold-beater, who 
 wished to have it merely for the sake of its parchment leaves. On the 
 day of sale, though weighing several stones, the Doctor shouldered it with 
 joyous heart, and with equally joyous step, carried it from Paternoster 
 Bow to Spitalfields — observing, that he “ sweat under the heavenly load.” 
 He took great delight in directing the attention of the writer to different 
 passages in this venerable specimen of a student’s toil.^ 
 
 The first part of his Commentary issued from the press in the summer 
 of 1810, comprising the whole of Genesis ; — and the “ General Preface” 
 which is an elaborate composition, and shows an unusual range of severely 
 critical reading, bearing date, July 2nd of that year. Though exceptions 
 were taken to detached portions of the work, yet, no one (which he 
 expressed as affording him great satisfaction) ventured to object to his 
 plan. One of the subjects on which he was the most fiercely assailed was 
 that of the nachash^ chap. iii. ; but even here, objection was more fre- 
 quently employed than argument, ridicule than fair criticism. On 
 opposition assuming a somewhat serious and scholar-like form, in the 
 
 Classical Journal,” he stepped forward, and, in the sixth number of 
 
 * A minute and interesting account is given of this rare MS., 2 vols., folio, in the 
 sale “Catalogue of the Highly Interesting and Valuable Collection of European and 
 Asiatic Manuscripts of the late Dr. Adam Clarke,” p. 69, 70, 8vo ; comprising no less 
 than 625, and including a particular description of most of them. Mr. Cochrane gave 
 £110 for the MS. in question, at the sale. 
 
28 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 that work, published what he entitled, “ A Reply to various Critiques on 
 the First Part of Dr. A. Clarke’s Bible,” which has since been transferred 
 to his “ Miscellaneous Works,” vol. x., p. 383. He disliked controversy, 
 and rarely entered into it ; but he never appeared more the victor, than in 
 this argument. His reply not only shows his learning, discrimination, 
 force, and tact, but also affords ample proof that he never advanced 
 an opinion without good ground upon which to rest it ; and never main- 
 tained one, which he had not skill to defend, — whether, in every instance, 
 satisfactorily to others, is another thing. But a man is always entitled to 
 respect, who can furnish a reason for his belief. 
 
 The reader will be gratified by the introduction of the following 
 spirited and characteristic letter on the subject of the critique upon the 
 nacJiash: it was written to Mr. Butterworth, immediately after the 
 Doctor’s receipt of a proof sheet of the review sent to][him by Mr. Valpy, 
 the editor of the ‘‘ Classical Journal.” 
 
 My very dear Brother, — Mr. V. has sent me the accompanying 
 sheet, with which I have been so long threatened. And what is it ? A vast 
 deal of apparent learning to prove that a snake is a snake ; and that 
 nachash signifies a serpent, which I have never denied. And after all his 
 quotations in Latin, Greek, Spanish, Samaritan, Hebrew, Ethiopic, and 
 Syriac, he has not removed a single difficulty, nor given one solid answer 
 to even the weakest of my objections ; and what is most curious of all, he 
 concludes with the absurd story from an idle Rabbin, and echoed by an 
 apocryphal gospeller, that ‘‘ the serpent once had feet^ but God cut 
 them off!'''' Against his Hindoo stories, what a noble set off I could 
 make, by the worship of the ape in Egypt, — one of the most ancient of 
 all their objects of idolatry ; ^nd this worship, in a country contiguous to 
 the place where the awful catastrophe happened, and a country where 
 almost all the ancient usages of the inhabitants of the earth had taken 
 refuge.* I believe the piece was never written in Oxford : I am pretty 
 sure it is the offspring of Great Coram Street disguised: it convicts 
 itself by the acknowledgment that the writer had not the Apocryphal 
 Gospel at hand : a misnomer surely, in the presence of the Bodleian and 
 Radcliffe libraries ! However, if he had sent to me, I would have lent it 
 to him. Instead of signing his name, he puts the Arabic word 
 altefteesh^ which signifies Investigator or Inquirer. For all him, nachash 
 keeps his place. — Yours affectionately, A. Clarke. 
 
 His veneration for the Word of God was rarely exceeded, — extending 
 to its simple typography. A servant wishing to prop open the cabin-door 
 
 * The writer states, as a mere matter of curiosity, that a friend noticed to him, that 
 Jie was aware of the existence of a fine specimen of old black oaJc furniture, in Holland, 
 the carving of which represented an ape offering an apple to Eve in the Garden of Eden. 
 
PART V.— SECTION I. 
 
 29 
 
 of the Corsair^ when crossing the Irish Channel in a storm, where the 
 writer was seated with him, took a Bible and placed it on the floor. 
 “ Poor Margaret,” said the Doctor, ‘‘ has no religion, or she would have 
 paid more respect to the book of God, than to put it to that use. When 
 I was a boy, Bibles were comparatively scarce ; but of the scores who 
 possessed them, not one would have been found to treat the Word of 
 God with disrespect.” After some remarks on the subject, in which 
 notes were compared and found to harmonise, he intimated that he could 
 not endure any portion of the Bible to be devoted to any mean use, and 
 was in the habit of treating paper with respect, that had upon it the 
 names of any of the persons of the Holy Trinity.^ While preaching 
 
 I in his usual style at Wigan, in Lancashire once, he paused a few seconds,^ 
 and without the least air of ostentation, said — his eyes beaming mean- 
 while with benignant pleasure on an attentive and rapt auditory, — 
 ‘‘ Some of you may have seen Adam Clarke before ; — more of you may 
 have heard of him, — and among other things, you may have been told,, 
 that he has studied hard, and read much ; but he has to tell you, that he 
 never met with but one book in his life, that he could hug to his heart, 
 and it is this blessed book of God,” (takiug up the large Bible at the time, 
 whieh had lain open before him, and placing it to his breast, with tho 
 endearing embrace of a mother clasping her child to her bosom.) The 
 effect was electrical; a simultaneous burst of half-stifled applause was 
 heard through the whole congregation, — men, women, and children 
 weeping, while his own eyes were brimmed with tears. All was simple, 
 patural, touching, sublime ! 
 
 An opportunity has been afforded of noticing his “ Succinct Account 
 of Polyglott Bibles.” That account, though published in his Biblio- 
 graphical Dictionary, was slightly remodelled, and printed in a separate 
 form for private circulation, — from seventy to one hundred copies in 
 all. One of these copies was presented to the Bishop of Peterborough, 
 who, in his Lectures, pronounced it the best work extant on the sub- 
 ject. Another copy — though the Doctor knew not by what means, — 
 found its way into France, and was characterised by a French critic, 
 who regretted its limited circulation, as a work of uncommon value. 
 One of these copies the writer holds as a treasure, haying been given 
 to him by the author. Though the Doctor had long Ibeen impressed 
 with the desirableness of a new edition of the London Polyglott 
 Bible, and would have been ready to aid such an undertaking, it 
 was not till now, ( 1810 ), that he entertained sanguine hopes of such 
 a work being seriously entered upon and accomplished. Having been 
 
 ♦ The biographer, not aware of the custom, was sensibly touched on seeing the whole 
 congregation rise from their seats, on his first visit to Dublin, and stand till the text 
 was read ; thus preserving a proper distinction between the text and the sermon,— 
 reverently listening to God in the one, and to man in the other. 
 
30 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 brought into an intimate acquaintance with the Rev. Josiah Pratt, in 
 consequence of their union with the British and Foreign Bible Society,, 
 it was often the subject of conversation. And besides, he knew that 
 Mr. Pratt had long been before the world on the subject; stating in 
 the first volume of his Bibliographical Dictionary, p. 239, which was 
 published in 1802, — “ The Rev. J. Pratt has lately issued proposals for 
 a new edition of a Polyglott Bible ; in which he promises, that with 
 the greatest exactness the text of the Septuagint will be printed from the 
 original edition, published in folio at Rome in 1587, by order of Sixtus 
 V., under the care of Cardinal Carafa:” adding with regret, “ but this 
 work of Mr. Pratt’s does not appear to go forward.” The following 
 conversations at a subsequent period, will throw some light on this in- 
 teresting subject. 
 
 Dr. CZar^e.— Did I ever furnish you with a tract, entitled ‘ A Plan 
 and Specimen of Biblia Polyglotta Britannica, or an enlarged and im- 
 proved edition of the London Polyglott Bible, with CasteU’s Heptaglott 
 Lexicon ? ’ ” 
 
 J, Everett. — “No, Sir.” 
 
 Dr. C. — “ One was sent to the British Museum, with a view to 
 preserve it; another, to one of the Scotch Universities, the receipt of 
 which was acknowledged by the professor with a vote of thanks.” 
 
 J. E. — “ By whom was the plan drawn ?” 
 
 Dr. C. — “ Mr. Pratt drew one plan on imperial paper, and I drew 
 another on a smaller scale — measuring, as I proceeded, the quantum of 
 room required in a given space — some languages requiring more than 
 others, as the Hebrew, Greek, Latin, Persian, Arabic, &c. &c. — and 
 noticing with precision the proportions which the several languages 
 bore to each other.” 
 
 J. E. — “It must have been a heavy tax on your time, viewed in 
 connection with the Government Records, reading and correcting the 
 proof sheets of your Commentary, together with other engagements, 
 among which the demands of the Bible Society were not the least.” 
 
 Dr. C . — “ Industry, order, and early rising, will enable a man to go 
 through a great deal of work. To Mr. Pratt, the work was comparatively 
 easy ; his mind was of a highly analytic order, and adapted to such pur- 
 suits.” 
 
 J. E . — “Were the prospectuses widely circulated?” 
 
 Dr. C. — “They were confined chiefly to the literati at home and on 
 the continent. A professor on the continent engaged to take the Arabic, 
 and I pledged myself to the superintendence of the Hebrew and the 
 Persian.” 
 
 tl. E. — “ Were you well supported at home ? ” 
 
 Dr. C. — “ Our first meeting, after having talked the matter over with 
 a few literary friends, and made the way plain by a few preliminary mea- 
 
PART V. — SECTION I. 
 
 31 
 
 sures, was held in the house of Lord Teignmouth. In addition to his 
 lordship, Mr. Pratt and myself were met by Dr. Burgess, Bishop of St. 
 David’s, Archdeacon Wrangham, Professor Shakespeare, and Dr. 
 Williams of Kotherham : at this meeting, it was agreed that a specimen 
 sheet should be sent to all the lay lords of the land, to the bishops, and 
 to the different members of His Majesty’s Government ; the first to be fur- 
 nished with specimens by Lord Teignmouth, the second by Dr. Burgess, 
 and the third by myself, through the Bight Honourable Charles Abbot, 
 Speaker of the House of Commons.” 
 
 J. E, — “ Can you form any idea of the length of time such a work 
 would take to complete it ? ” 
 
 Dr. C. — “ Seven years.” 
 
 J. E. — “ Great expense would be incurred from the mere lapse of 
 time.” 
 
 Dr. C. — “The sum required was calculated at £100,000. Several 
 gentlemen came forward with munificent offers, some of whom you know. 
 Mr. Butterworth promised £500 towards the expense of the first 
 volume, and £50 per annum for a period of seven years. Mr. Eobert 
 Speare also promised £50 per annum during the same period, and Dr. 
 WiUiams £30.” 
 
 J. E. — “ Were any of the bishops in favour of the project, besides the 
 Bishop of St. David’s ? ” 
 
 Dr. C. — “ The Bishops of Durham and Carlisle were doth disposed to 
 assist, and to be members of the committee ; but the others, though they 
 saw and felt the desirableness of it, were unwilling to work ; and being 
 addressed by some influential men to defer it awhile, in order to see 
 whether Parliament would be induced to take it up, with a view at the 
 same time to prevent an application to His Majesty, who was supposed to 
 have too many works in hand to support it, the undertaking was 
 checked. At one time, I had serious thoughts of going to the throne 
 myself ; and I have some reason to believe, that His Majesty would have 
 sanctioned it.” 
 
 The Doctor then enumerated the different languages in which the 
 work was proposed to be published, and furnished the names of several 
 persons who had engaged to assist in the literary department ; expressing 
 his confidence in securing the aid of His Eoyal Highness the Duke of 
 Sussex. The object of the Doctor and Mr. Pratt was, as expressed by 
 them in the plan published on the occasion, to render the work a reposi- 
 tory of the purest copies of the original texts, and ancient versions, which 
 could be formed from all the accessible sources of criticism at the respec- 
 tive periods of publication, constituting, in consequence, standard texts ; 
 exhibiting, at the same time, the texts and versions in such order and 
 connection, as to supply the best means of interpreting the Scriptures. 
 One argument instituted in favour of the object was, the more recent 
 
32 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 discovery of invaluable copies of the originals, together with ancient 
 versions not known to exist, the one having been diligently collated with 
 the other, and thus correcting and illustrating the sacred text. They 
 further observed, in developing their plan, that, “ In such an undertaking, 
 besides the additions which may be made to the London Polyglott, 
 and the correction of the texts and versions from all the authorities 
 hitherto discovered, the Latin translations of the ancient versions, well 
 known to be very faulty, and often to have misled students, must be 
 entirely revised, and the arrangement of the whole may be so much im- 
 proved as to exhibit, on a single opening of the book, all matters connected 
 with the texts, versions, and various readings of any passage ; instead of 
 having to turn to different volumes, as is the case in preceding Poly- 
 glotts.” Desirable, however, as the work was, and honourable as it 
 would have been to the projectors, and even to the nation itself, it was 
 finally abandoned, — an event regretted by no one more deeply than Dr. 
 Clarke. 
 
 Mixed up with the conversations on the London Polyglott, were 
 some remarks on the close attention paid to it by the Pev. Samuel 
 Wesley, (Rector of Epworth,) whose copy was destroyed on the burning 
 of his house in 1709, and who himself projected an edition of the Holy 
 Scriptures, including the original texts and principal versions on a more 
 contracted plan, and in a more portable form ; of which he gave some 
 account to his son John at Oxford, in 1725. What the full nature and 
 extent of his scheme was, the Doctor was unable clearly to ascertain : but 
 his language is, “ It seems he had contemplated a copious list of various 
 readings ; intending particularly to show how the Yulgate Version (pro- 
 posed by St. Jerome to be taken from the Hebrew text) differed from the 
 original ; and how the Alexandrian and Vatican copies of the Septuagint 
 differed from each other ; and also to point out the variations between 
 them and the ancient Greek Versions of Symmachus and Theodotian, 
 together with other existing fragments of the Hexapla of Origen. He 
 appears to have intended also to show the variations between the Hebrew 
 and Samaritan Pentateuch. He tells us he had, in the space of one year, 
 gone four times through the Pentateuch. By this I suppose he meant, 
 reading — 1. The Hebrew text ; 2. The Chaldee paraphrases of Ben 
 Uzziel and Onkelos; 3. The Septuagint; and 4. The Vulgate; and to 
 read each of these critically, and the whole in twelve months, was no 
 mean labour.”^ 
 
 * The Hebrew Bible used by the Rector of Epworth was a copy of the second edition 
 of Sebastian Munster’s, printed at Basil, 1546, folio, and the above fact of diligent read- 
 ing is confirmed by the Rector himself, both at the beginning and end of the Pentateuch, 
 in his own handwriting. The first volume, containing the Pentateuch, is now in the 
 possession of the biographer. “The collation,” says Dr. Clarke, “which was done at 
 Wroot, exists in the margin, and is one of the most curious specimens of careful, 
 laborious, and accurate criticism I have ever soon.” The volmne itself appears to be 
 
PART V. — SECTION I. 
 
 33 
 
 He stated that the one projected by Mr. Wesley was similar to the 
 Polyglott published by Mr. S. Bagster, ia a 4to, 8vo, and 12mo size ; 
 the Old Testament comprising, at one view, first, the Hebrew text, with 
 points ; secondly, the authorised English version, with various readings 
 and parallel texts ; thirdly, the Greek version of the Seventy ; and 
 fourthly, the Vulgate Latin : and the Hew Testament comprehending, 
 first, the Greek text ; secondly, the ancient Syriac ; thirdly, the Latin 
 Vulgate ; and fourthly, the authorised English version as above. Being 
 asked by a friend his opinion of Bagste'r’s publication, he said, ‘‘ To answer 
 you catachrestically — applying a molehill to a mountain — the miniature 
 to magnitude — and covering the earth over with a white surplice, it may 
 be called a Polyglott.” The same person speaking of Lexicons, the 
 Doctor observed, The one published by Junius is excellent ; Dr. Johnson 
 preferred Stephens, but he was not sufficiently acquainted with Junius.” 
 Inseparably connected with Dr. Clarke’s acquisition of various lan- 
 guages was his appropriation of each to its own use, and his affixing to 
 each its just amount of value. A writer quoting Pococke, Hunt, Ockley, 
 and Schultens, as authorities in support of an opinion of his own, — viz., 
 that a knowledge of the Arabic was necessary to a thorough understand- 
 ing of the Hebrew, and that a complete knowledge of the Scriptures 
 could be obtained only by a familiar acquaintance with the Arabic prose 
 and verse writers, — the Doctor replied, However respectable the names 
 
 may be by which this opinion is sanctioned, I feel no reluctance in pro- 
 nouncing it rash and unsupported. A man may understand the whole 
 phraseology of the Hebrew Bible, who knows not a letter of the Arabic 
 alphabet ; and though I readily grant that a knowledge of Arabic may 
 be of considerable service in supplying deficient roots, whose derivatives 
 alone remain in the Hebrew Bible, yet, as to the general understanding 
 of the Hebrew Scriptures, I must maintain, that a knowledge of Hel- 
 lenistic Greek, and especially that of the version of the Septuagint, will 
 avail more toward a thorough understanding of the sacred text, than all 
 the Arabic in Hariri or the Koran. Of all the books in the Old Testa- 
 ment, the book of Job is the only one to which Arabic learning can be 
 successfully applied, from the number of Arabisms which it contains ; yet 
 even here it does comparatively little, as is pretty evident from the exces- 
 sive labours of Schultens and Chapelow on this book, both eminent 
 Arabic scholars and critics, who nevertheless, in the judgment of those 
 best qualified to form a correct opinion on the subject, have contributed 
 little, very little, toward the elucidation of the abstruse parts of this 
 very ancient book.” 
 
 the only surviving wreck of the Rector’s collection for his projected Polyglott ; and 
 what became of his other preparations for the work, Dr. Clarke was never able to ascer- 
 tain. The biographer honoured the surviving volume with a morocco binding, when it 
 came into his possession, 
 von. II. 
 
 r> 
 
34 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 Difficult as it may appear, for a man in the midst of literary labours, 
 and crowned with literary honours, to maintain the dignified simplicity 
 which marked a comparatively obscure period of his fife, we yet find the 
 subject of our memoir holding his onward course with precisely the same 
 afiability of deportment, and the same singleness of purpose, as formerly ; 
 “ integrity and uprightness preserved him,” and “ the fear of the Lord 
 was his confidence.” Simplicity was a characteristic of his intellect ; the 
 supreme object of his life was the glory of God, and to this all his studies 
 and his thinkings, were made tributary. He was ever erect to seize on 
 things spiritual and eternal ; instead of panting for wealth and fame, and 
 creeping to gather the dust of the earth, we find him longing to become 
 acquainted with those mysteries which now only astonish and perplex ; 
 his mind ever intent on the realities of things eternal, and its energies 
 employed in the discovery of truth, moral and divine — grasping after the 
 indefinite and the infinite — living amid forms of perfect beauty — delight- 
 ing itself in contemplations certain of being realized, and the realization 
 certain of exceeding not only all the honours and highest pleasures of this 
 state, but of all the imaginings his intellect could form in this confined 
 and obscure region ! It was this elevation of mind which kept him out 
 of the profitless and harassing arena of controversy, when in several 
 instances challenged to the battle. ‘‘I have a great work to do and 
 cannot come down to you,” was the usual frame of his mind. “In the 
 genuine spirit of ruthless bigotry,” he observed to a friend, “ Mr. H. has 
 been attacking me, finding abundance of faults with my Commentary, 
 not one of which has he proved ; but my maxim, you know, is always to 
 answer such persons kindly, — having reason to believe that by this method 
 some have not only been softened but made ashamed of themselves. I 
 find it is not only impossible to please everybody^ but that it is scarcely 
 possible to please anybody. Woe to him who writes a Commentary, 
 and consults his own judgment and conscience in the work ! How dif- 
 ferent a temper does real Christianity exhibit ! All hail, thou truth of 
 Jehovah, be thou established for ever ! ” 
 
 “Doctor,” observed a fair friend one day, “ your Doctorate does not 
 appear to have made any change in your manners, you are just as kind 
 and condescending as ever to us.” “I feel neither the better nor the 
 worse for it,” he replied, wfith a mixture of cheerfulness and more deeply- 
 toned feeling : “ even if it may have been the occasion of procuring an 
 increase of notice in some quarters, I could have done very well without 
 it ; I have more honour than ever I expected, and have no desire to go 
 further ; to secure the honour which comes from God, and which will 
 alone stand me in stead when the heavens and the earth are passed away, 
 is that which I am striving after ; I wish ever to be guided by God, and 
 to take no steps but those pointed out by his providence ; I might now 
 get both wealth and honour, but I dare not take the path which leads to 
 
PART V. — SECTION I. 
 
 35 
 
 them ; I have stood in the day of adversity^ but prosperity might bring 
 overwhelming temptations ; from the love of money I have hitherto been 
 saved, and honours I never sought, — they have been pressed upon me, 
 while endeavouring to escape them.” 
 
 How admirably in keeping with our foregoing remarks, is this beauti- 
 ful exhibition, of Christian feeling ! 
 
 In 1810, the Doctor w^as requested by the Committee of the British 
 and Foreign Bible Society to look out for such works as would be useful 
 to the Society’s translators in India, while proceeding with their im- 
 portant labours ; when he drew up a list of more than fifty articles, 
 which he classified under nine distinct heads, stating them to be works 
 that would come into every question of general sacred criticism, and 
 which works were approved by the committee, though two — namely, 
 Herodotus and Diodorus Siculus, were afterwards omitted at the request 
 of the Rev. Joseph Hughes.* 
 
 It was about this time also, that Dr. Clarke became personally 
 acquainted with Miss Mary Freeman Shepherd, — a lady, at this period, 
 well stricken in years — possessed of a masculine mind — considerable 
 acuteness — a vivid imagination — a thorough knowledge of several lan- 
 guages — eccentric — noble spirited — and, withal, a liberal member of the 
 Church of Rome. She was co-partner, in early life, with the famous 
 Alexander Cruden, in correcting WoodfalVs Public Advertiser , of which 
 eleven thousand copies were published daily; she also translated the 
 foreign mails, from 1754 to 1759. Previously to Miss Shepherd’s personal 
 acquaintance with Dr. Clarke, which was brought about by Miss Sarah, 
 the daughter of Mr. Charles Wesley, she had, in different instances, 
 
 * This excellent man, distinguished for piety, judgment, and a pacific disposition, 
 took, as a Calvinist, exceptions to some passages in the Doctor’s Preface to his Com- 
 mentary, to which the latter replied, with equal catholicity of feeling ; observing, after 
 entering into some explanations, that he had “ seen with great grief the provokings of 
 many, and had a thousand times in his heart said, 
 
 ‘ Semper ego auditor Tanttjm, nunquamque reponam, 
 
 Vexatus toties ” 
 
 Further stating, that his ‘‘love of peace, and detestation of religious disputes, induced 
 him to keep within his shell, and never to cross the waters of strife.” Mr. Morris, the 
 biographer of Hall and of Fuller, on reading this letter to Mr. Hughes, after having in- 
 dulged in some severe strictures on the Doctor’s Commentary, in his “ Biographical 
 Recollections ” of Hall, had the manly candour to avow that he had misunderstood the 
 character of the learned Commentator. “The letter in question,” observes Mr. 
 Morris, “is touching in the extreme, and gives a view of Dr. Clarke’s character 
 which I had never before witnessed, adding to it a charm which I never before 
 suspected it to possess. It would give me pleasure to see any error corrected, 
 or to retract any expression that conveyed a want of reverence or respect for 
 the memory of so eminent a man. The sentiments of Adam Clarke on some points 
 were sufficiently heterodox, and in my opinion, of an injurious tendency; but after 
 seeing his tender and modest concessions to Mr. Hughes, it is impossible not to feel the 
 highest admiration of his character.” With a spirit like this, Wesleyans, Calvinists, 
 Churchmen, Baptists, Moravians, &c., &c., may all retain their different peculiarities, 
 and yet dwell together in harmony. 
 
 D 2 
 
3G 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 owing to her high regard for Mr. John Wesley, rendered good service to 
 the Methodists. Dr. Coke, in the autumn of 1791, visited Paris, at the 
 request of Lady Huntingdon, who had received a letter from two Englisii 
 schoolmasters, informing her ladyship, that if a preaching-room could be 
 procured, it would soon be filled with attentive hearers. The Doctor, 
 accompanied by Mr. Gibson and Mr. De Quetteville, engaged to purchase 
 a suppressed church, capable of containing about 2,000 or 2,500 persons, 
 for £120, and hired a room for a month, close by the Seine, till it should 
 be ready for the reception of a congregation. He soon found that he had 
 been deceived by the representations of the schoolmasters, who had 
 adopted this expedient to awaken attention to the English language ; and 
 not being able to obtain hearers, was compelled to abandon his intention 
 of benefiting the Parisians. But how to procure, in an honourable way, 
 a revocation of the bargain he had entered into for the church, was 
 beyond his ken. It providentially turned out, that when he advertised 
 in the public prints, his intention to preach in Paris, the advertisement 
 caught the eye of Miss F. Shepherd, who had known something of Dr. 
 Coke in London ; and who for some time resident in France, had retired 
 to a convent, in order to escape the miseries and dangers that accom- 
 panied the Kevolution. On recollecting his name, she sent him and his 
 companionsan invitation to dine with her at the convent, in the Faux- 
 bourg St. Germaine. Of this they accepted ; and on their arrival, were 
 received wfith the utmost politeness, and entertained according to the 
 established manners of the place. 
 
 In the course of conversation. Dr. Coke named to her his disappoint- 
 ment on visiting Paris, arising from an inability to procure a congrega- 
 tion ; and stated also his wish to have the church, which he had pur- 
 chased, taken off his hands. On hearing this, she caused a letter to be 
 written, addressed to the principal agent of the convention, who, with 
 maii}^ others, had the management of the suppressed churches, abbeys, 
 and convents, committed to his care. In this letter, the peculiar embar- 
 rassment of her countryman — (for Miss F. S. was born in England, 
 though descended on the maternal side from the ancient and noble house 
 of the Falletti of Piedmont, formerly sovereign princes in Italy, and 
 herself educated in a convent at Rome) — respecting the church was set 
 forth ; who, it was stated, had been deceived by a letter that had pro- 
 mised to a Protestant minister a congregation, which could not be 
 procured. And finally, as it would not be to the disadvantage of the 
 agent to annul the bargain, he would oblige the writer, and all who were 
 interested in the issue, by again taking the church into his possession. 
 Furnished wdth this letter. Dr. Coke repaired to the agent, and soon 
 found that it had not been wudtten in vain. With a degree of politeness 
 that could scarcely have been expected, the latter made no difficulty in 
 retracing his former steps, and complying with the wishes which Dr. 
 
PAKT V. — SECTION I. 
 
 37 
 
 Coke expressed. Instead of demanding money, lie only requested his 
 attendance a few times at the office, that he might ratify by his 
 signature the various formularies through which they were obliged to 
 pass. This circumstance is recorded, as one instance among many, of 
 the catholicity of this noble-minded woman, from whose intelligent, 
 literary, and racy correspondence. Dr. Clarke derived so much pleasure, 
 part of which, in her own handwriting, is in possession of the bio- 
 grapher. 
 
 Well would it be, if the same catholic feeling were also displayed by 
 some of the members of the Anglican Church, from whom the Wesleyans 
 are now experiencing much annoyance in cases of burial and baptism : 
 and which annoyance is the more remarkable, when it is known, that 
 at this period of the Doctor’s personal history, it was determined, by 
 Sir John Nicholl, in the Ecclesiastical Court, Doctors’ Commons, that all 
 Dissenters and Methodists and their children, who had been baptized 
 either by laity or clergy^ were legally entitled to Christian burial^ 
 according to the Kites of the Church of England ; and all clergy- 
 men refusing to bury^ were liable to certain heavy penalties. This decision 
 ought to have some influence upon men who hold the sacred office, 
 in bridling an intolerant feeling. But even apart from the respect due to 
 the laws of the land, a moderate share of human sympathy and common 
 decency, ought to prevent men from carrying any litigious feeling — 
 any little ceremonial differences, to the verge of the grave, where parents, 
 friends, and relatives, have the cup of sorrow dealt out to them to the 
 full, — -even running over, in the act of committing “ bone of their bone 
 and flesh of their flesh ” to the dust. Let the reader imagine what the 
 feelings of such a father as the subject of the memoir would have been, 
 on finding, as he approached the grave, that the clergyman refused to 
 bury his child, because of its having been baptized in a Methodist 
 chapel : a man who, many years after burying a lovely boy named after 
 himself, could say — as if passing through a part of the process on every 
 revived recollection of the occasion, — “I have buried many another 
 person’s child with resignation, and exhorted the bereaved parents to 
 look to God ; but, ah ! it is not so easy to bury our own children ; I 
 felt as though I was committing myself to the grave, on committing 
 my Adam to it : old Adam seemed to enter it with young Adam — the 
 one only a brief space before the other.” This cost him so much, that 
 he would never name another child after himself, and confessed that he 
 had a feeling on the subject bordering upon superstition. Without 
 dwelling on what is otherwise a mere passing remark, and surrounding 
 the subject with similarly painful associations, it is to be hoped, that a 
 more charitable state of feeling will be cultivated among the different 
 sections of the Protestant Church, when we have such an example of 
 
38 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 Christian charity presented to us in Mary Freeman Shepherd — a mem- 
 ber of the Church of Rome ! ^ 
 
 Part of May, the whole of June, and the greater part of July, 1811, 
 were spent on a tour through part of Wales, and a considerable por- 
 tion of Ireland, — the Doctor, Mr. Butterworth, and Mr. J. W. Clarke, 
 the Doctor’s eldest son, forming the party. Having rendered the tour 
 subservient to his official engagement with Government, in the exami- 
 nation of various diplomatic documents, and the writer having noticed 
 some little incidents, as received from himself, in connection with this 
 visit to his native land, in his summary remarks on the preparations 
 for a Continuation of Rymer’s Foedera, only such points of interest 
 shall be embraced in this tour as may seem to justify a more special 
 reference to some of its details. 
 
 On arriving in Dublin, the subject of the memoir was soon found in 
 his old place of resort — the Library of Trinity College. Here, in con- 
 nection with Dr. Barratt, he spent some time, as he had done on a 
 former occasion, to which reference has been made, in an examination 
 of the Codex Rescriptus, together with the Codex Montfortii, or Codex 
 Dublinensis, cited by Erasmus, as previously noticed, under the title 
 of the Codex Britannicus ; the result of which examination he has given 
 to the world in his “Sacred Literature,” vol. i., p. 71, 8vo ; and in 
 a critique in the Eclectic Review^ on Barratt’s “ Evangelium Secun- 
 dum Mathseum,” since transferred to his “ Miscellaneous Works,” vol. x., 
 p. 178, &c. ; in both of which, but especially the latter, there is a great 
 deal of curious, recondite matter, and fine manly criticism, the perusal 
 of which will be no mean treat to the reader. The conductors of the 
 Eclectic^ were anxious, on the publication of the critique, to present 
 a copy of it to Dr. Barratt ; and naming their wish to Dr. Clarke, the 
 latter said, “ I have no objection.” A Codex Rescriptus, as some readers 
 may know, is a parchment from which the original writing has been 
 partially or wholly erased, and on which a new work has been written in 
 its stead ; its legibility, therefore, necessarily varies ; rarely happening, 
 however, that the former writing is so completely erased, as not to leave 
 some traces ; and in a few instances, both writings are legible. Mont- 
 faucon found a MS. in the Colbert library, which had been written about 
 the eighth century, and originally contained the works of St. Dionysius ; 
 new matter had been written over it, three or four centuries afterwards, 
 and both continued legible. The first of the manuscripts here noticed, 
 
 * Selden said that, “had he fallen into a pit, and the devil had extended his cloven 
 foot, he would have accepted it.” This was going far enough,— yet he was right ; but 
 prejudice is generally both blind and intolerant, and especially so upon the subject of 
 religious creeds, — for here Satan assumes the garb of “ an angel of light,” whose advent 
 is hailed with fervent acclamations. 
 
PART V. — SECTION I. 
 
 39 
 
 as examined by Dr. Clarke, contained the Gospel according to St. Mat- 
 thew, which had been partially obliterated to make way for a work 
 of Isidore. “Some of the characters,” said the Doctor, “were scarcely 
 perceptible to me ; but Dr. Barratt had a peculiar eye for these things, 
 and could take in the whole.” The Anatomy House in the Park, and 
 the Library, comprising 68,946 volumes, formed a fine range for him 
 while in Dublin. In addition to his occupying the pulpit in his own 
 chapel, he attended Divine service, and received the sacrament at St. 
 Patrick’s Cathedral. 
 
 The travellers took in their way to Armagh, Drogheda, Dundalk, the 
 district distinguished for the Battle of the Boyne, and Newton Hamilton. 
 The battle-field, in consequence of various associations, noticed in the 
 early part of the Doctor’s history, was like enchanted ground. Here he 
 lingered — ruminated — measured distances — and dilated on the struggle 
 and its results. After leaving the field, he observed to the writer, that 
 they overtook a poor woman, with a little boy, about six years of age, who 
 was anxious to proceed to Dundalk. The travellers commiserating her 
 circumstances, took them into the carriage. On paying the driver at the 
 end of the stage, he touched his hat, and said, “There are two more 
 to pay for, please your honours.” “ What,” it was pleasantly replied, 
 “ did we not hire the conveyance, and had we not a right to do with it as 
 we pleased, as to the number of passengers ? We took in the poor worna'a 
 and her boy, it is true ; but that concerned us more than you, as we sub- 
 mitted to inconvenience through it.” “ It is no matter, your honours,” 
 it was responded, “it is customary to pay.” They then took, him on 
 another tack, to try his sympathies. “We did it as a matter of charity,” 
 said they. “Ah, your honours, and sure the Lord Almighty will settle 
 with you for that same.” Here the travellers were posed ; and however 
 they relished the wit of the driver, they were not at all disposed to push 
 him any further, when referred to such a source for requital. 
 
 At Armagh, anciently the metropolis of the county, and still the seat 
 of the consistorial court of His Grace the Archbishop, who is the primate 
 and metropolitan of all Ireland, the travellers remained a few days — 
 finding the accommodations agreeable. Being importuned by the friends 
 to give them a sermon, and the Wesleyan chapel being small, the Doctor 
 preached in the large Presbyterian meeting-house, which was obligingly 
 lent for the occasion. The congregation was large, and several ministers 
 and persons of condition were present. The text was taken from 1 Thess. 
 V. 16, 17, 18. The germ of this discourse is to be found in his notes on 
 the passage. On this occasion, he defined, expounded, and enforced the 
 whole, with uncommon freedom, energy, and unction, — an unction of 
 which, a hearer advertiug to it more than twenty years afterward, had a 
 vivid recollection. This same gentleman, dilating on this visit of the 
 Doctor to his native land, stated, that himself and many others followed 
 
40 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 the party to Charlemont and Portadown, to which places they proceeded 
 from Armagh. At both of these towns he preached ; but the chapel in 
 the former was unable to contain one-fourth of the assembled multitudes, 
 and a respectful request was forthwith sent to the commanding officer for 
 permission to preach in one of the yards, which was courteously granted. 
 The day was stormy, and the place itself not one of the most religiously 
 promising, yet the people assembled, — many of them comiug a distance of 
 fifteen and twenty miles. One circumstance annoyed the Doctor, — he 
 was announced as “ The religious and learned Dr. Adam Clarke ; ” at a 
 fitting period of the service, with a view of checking the inconsiderate 
 flattery, he told the people, that a person had been announced to preach 
 who, in the proper sense of the terms used, was not now standing before 
 them ; then proceeding to define the terms, and giving to each its highest 
 sense of meaning, he told them, that so explained, they would not apply 
 to himself ; while, at the same time, he thanked God for the portion of 
 each which he possessed, and urged his hearers to strive, at any rate, after 
 a higher state of religious privilege and attainment than they at present 
 enjoyed. 
 
 Leaving these and other intermediate places, we proceed to the scenes 
 of his birth, and of his childhood, and behold him perambulating the 
 grounds and villages adjacent, such as Magherafelt, Desart Martin, 
 Maghera, Garvah, &c. This, and two subsequent visits, furnished some 
 conversational remarks, which may here be introduced. 
 
 J. Everett. — “ Did you find any person resident on the spot. Doctor, 
 who knew you in childhood ? ” 
 
 Dr. Clarke. — “An aunt was still living, nearly one hundred years old, 
 from whom I elicited several little incidents respecting early history. She 
 was at the expense of annually painting the tombstones of my uncle and 
 other relatives, which, through her care, presented inscriptions as entire 
 as they were fifty years before, when I saw them. These tombstones I 
 was somewhat puzzled to find at first, though I had a recollection of their 
 form, and how they lay, — only, I took one side of the ground instead of 
 the other, which excited the surprise of my aunt, to whom everything was 
 familiar, and who forgot to make allowance for childhood and the lapse 
 of years between.’’ 
 
 J. E . — “ Was the tombstone whose Latin inscription you interpreted, 
 when a boy, still entire ? ” 
 
 Dr. C . — “ Of the situation of that I had a correct impression, and 
 had the Latin inscription in my mind when I inquired after the graves 
 of the family.” 
 
 J. E. — “ The house in which you were born would, no doubt, be an 
 object of curiosity ? ” 
 
 Dr. C. — “ Scarcely a trace of it remained ; and but a small vestige 
 was left of the house to which my father removed when I was about four 
 
PART V. — SECTION I. 
 
 41 
 
 years of age. Somewhat more of the house at Maghera was standing, 
 though most of it was also in a state of ruin. The people there rarely 
 mend their houses, but permit them to wear out, and then build others. 
 Even respectable persons have been known, on the rain finding its way 
 into one room, to go into another ; and have thus suffered themselves 
 to be driven from room to room, till dislodged by the weather and 
 decay.” 
 
 J, E , — “ The church, I hope, was found in tolerable repair? ” 
 
 Dr. C. — “ There was slender room left for boasting : I borrowed the 
 keys, and, on entering, felt strange emotions, in looking back on early 
 days, when my uncle held me a babe in his arms, and dedicated me to 
 God in baptism. On casting my eye round, I found myself within two 
 or three yards of the tablets of my godfather and godmother ; and recol- 
 lecting the promises of my sponsors at the font on my behalf, and how 
 little I owed them, as to any religious concern they appeared to manifest 
 toward me, I felt at the moment as though I had communion with the 
 dead, and would gladly have exonerated them from all their engagements: 
 under this impression, and as though the vows of others were pressing 
 upon me, I stole into the communion — knelt down — took them all, as if 
 made by myself — and solemnly renewing them, dedicated myself once 
 more to my Maker.” 
 
 J. E . — “ Had you access to any of the parish registers ? ” 
 
 Dr. C. — “ I tried in vain to find the register of baptisms, which, if in 
 existence when I was taken to church, had been destroyed ; and I am yet 
 only enabled to make out the time of my birth and baptism from collateral 
 circumstances.” 
 
 J. E . — “ There is but little cleanliness, we may be allowed to conjec- 
 ture, among those persons who are so indifferent to the repair and comfort 
 of their houses.” 
 
 Dr. C. — ‘‘ Very little. My aunt belonged to an opposite class. She 
 would never allow a servant, on entering her service, to go into a bed 
 belonging to her, till first put into a large vessel of water, in order to 
 receive a thorough washing. All had to pass through this ordeal ; this is 
 to be outrageously clean.” 
 
 The Doctor was not quite satisfied with himself for having preached 
 in a Socinian chapel at Garvagh, owing to the circumstances in which a 
 minister of a different persuasion is placed, being either driven to conceal 
 his own views on the occasion, or unhandsomely to oppose the principles 
 of the party to whom he is laid under obligation for the loan of the 
 chapel : and not having had the fact communicated to him, till after the 
 service, prevention — could he even have charged himself with any indis- 
 cretion, came too late. After preaching in the court-house, at London- 
 derry, and visiting his old friends at Coleraine, to whom also he preached, 
 he proceeded to Ballyaherton, where he had spent his boyhood, and from 
 
42 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 thence to Dunluce Castle and the Giant’s Causeway. Independently of 
 his own relatives, he had met, up to this time, but few persons whom he 
 knew among his youthful associates, with the exception of Captain Church 
 and Captain O’Neil, both of whom had been schoolfellows. At Bally- 
 mena, the chapel, as at other places, being too small for the congregation, 
 the rector was asked by some of the friends, with whom he was on terms 
 of intimacy, for the loan of the church, to which he readily consented ; 
 stating, that though he had no personal acquaintance with Dr. Clarke, 
 yet from what he had heard and read, he believed him to be a pious and 
 learned man, and he should have the use of the church on the occasionw 
 On the party arriving at Grace Hill, a Moravian establishment, the 
 minister showed them over the house, and pressed the Doctor to preach ; 
 observing that a congregation would be present within the space of five 
 minutes. Consent being gained, the bell was heard, and in a few 
 minutes all capable of attending, were found in the chapel. Speaking of 
 this visit afterwards, he observed that he was indebted to his ignorance of 
 the Moravian hymns for his discourse ; for not being familiar with its 
 contents, he gave the hymn book to the resident minister, who selected a 
 hymn in which the Holy Ghost was invoked upon the congregation : this 
 at once fixed the Doctor’s mind as to subject, and he addressed the people 
 on the Witness of the Spirit ; and twenty years after, when the writer 
 was with him at the same place, he was reminded by the minister, his 
 good lady, and a few other friends, while at the social meal, of the season 
 of refreshing enjoyed from the presence of the Lord, — the circumstance 
 being employed as an argument in favour of another address, in 1830. 
 
 Having had his attention directed to the Round Towers, which are 
 found at Swords, Munster Boyce, and Antrim, he embraced the opportu- 
 nity of examining the latter the day after he left Grace Hill, as he 
 did others on his way to Dublin. An interesting paper on these antique 
 remains is inserted in his ‘^Miscellaneous Works,” vol. xi., p. 78 — 91 ; 
 which will well repay a perusal, and in which paper — after much reason- 
 ing and minute observation, he concludes by presuming, “ that they were 
 introduced by the Asiatic missionaries, who first preached the Gospel 
 in the land, — serving the same purpose as the Oriental Minarets, and 
 possibly some of them at first as a sort of Atush Khaneh^ or fire temples 
 in the time of Irish heathenism, but afterward converted to a sublimer 
 use, when the nation had embraced the Christian religion.”* He visited 
 
 * This paper was read by the Doctor before the Antiquarian Society. — A Tower of 
 a somewhat similar description is noticed in the Gent. Mag., vol. xliii., p. 230, for 1773, 
 as standing near Loch Eribol, in the north of Scotland, where most of the inhabitants 
 speak the Irish language. It is called the Dune or Damadilla. In a French work on 
 Gaulish antiquities, there is a print of a Druidical temple in France of the same kind, 
 which does not appear to have come under the notice of Dr. Clarke, any more than the 
 one in Scotland. In a work on the Antiquity of the Irish Language, Dorn means a 
 round stone, so that ahdorn would mean the round stone of the priests ; na is of; and Di is 
 
PART V. — SECTION I. 
 
 43 
 
 successively Belfast, Lisburoe, Lurgan, Portadown, ISTewry, and Drog- 
 heda ; at the last of which places he laid the foundation-stone of a new 
 chapel, having preached either within or without doors at the other 
 places, to immense concourses of spectators. The late Bev. Matthew 
 Langtree, observes in his “Biographical Narrative,” p. 216, that he was 
 present at Portadown, on this occasion, and that the Doctor, contrary 
 to his usual custom, was present at a large tea-party, invited to meet 
 him, though, of course, without partaking. To render the meeting as 
 useful as possible, as it was in compliment to himself and his friends, 
 the Doctor touched a chord which he knew would vibrate with pleasure 
 on the ears of all present, — he dwelt on the leading doctrines of Metho- 
 dism, and their intimate connection with experimental religion ; toge- 
 ther with the direct tendency of the whole economy to promote holiness 
 and happiness among its professors, and to diffuse the same unspeakable 
 blessings throughout the world. 
 
 One object of the Doctor’s return to Dublin was, (agreeably to pre- 
 vious arrangement,") to preside at the Conference, whose sittings com- 
 menced July 4th. On the advantage of his presidency, Mr. Langtree 
 thus observes, — “The examination of characters was conducted with 
 great strictness: our doctrines, discipline, and ministry, after a lucid 
 explanation of them by the president, were faithfully, as in the sight 
 of God, brought home to the bosom and business of every preacher.” 
 The subject of the increasing deficiencies of the Irish Connexion, had 
 become a matter of serious investigation among a number of respectable 
 friends, who were at this time in Dublin, in which Mr. Butterworth also 
 took a lively interest. An address, unsolicited, and unthought of by 
 the Irish preachers, was prepared, and a subscription opened toward the 
 liquidation of the debt. This was signed by the Dublin leaders, and 
 influential friends, and sent through all the circuits in Ireland. The 
 hearts of a Clarke and a Butterworth, the former of whom could plead 
 better for others than himself, are seen in the concluding remarks, — 
 “ The preachers themselves have borne their difficulties in secret, and 
 silently submitted to their numerous privations : but their embarrassment 
 must necessarily depress the work ; for how can a preacher properly 
 pursue his private studies, and go on with spirit in his public ministry, 
 whose family is in circumstances of distress and want ? ” Mr. Butter- 
 worth, in a select meeting of preachers and friends, gave, at the sug- 
 gestion of Dr. Clarke, an account of Lord Sidmouth’s Bill, which was, 
 happily for the Wesleyan body, thrown out, and respecting which another 
 opportunity may be afforded to look at its detail. 
 
 Hard labour, during the Doctor’s Irish tour, rendered the visit less 
 
 God; vlia means a place of devotion : so that Dor-na-Di-ulla will signify the round-stone 
 place of the worship of God; or, perhaps, it might allude to some round stone preserved 
 within as a sacred emblem of divinity. 
 
44 
 
 ADAM CLAKKE. 
 
 advantageous to health than was anticipated; and on his return to 
 England, he was met with the tidings of the death of his mother at 
 Bristol, whom he had seen but a short time before he left for Ireland. 
 This stroke was keenly felt ; and the more so, as he was deeply indebted 
 to his mother for much of what he was, as a man and a Christian.* The 
 effective education of the reason, (as Heraclitus well observes,) is not to 
 be supplied by multifarious acquirements ; for there is but one knowledge 
 fitly called wisdom, — that knowledge Mrs. Clarke possessed, and commu- 
 nicated to her son ; and by her teachings instrumentally he became what 
 for a long series of years he was, — a burning and a shining light. She 
 did not possess, it is true, the varied acquirements of our modern educa- 
 tion ; but she was well furnished in the law of the Lord ; and, like 
 the mother of Timothy, she so ably instructed her son, that from a child 
 he knew the Holy Scriptures ; and Adam Clarke is an illustrious instance 
 of the established axiom, that truth, falling from the lips of a judicious 
 mother, on the ear of the listening child at her knee, becomes the great 
 moral force, whose momentum, increasing in every succeeding generation 
 of men, bears along with it the eternal interests of nations yet unborn ; 
 and whose constantly accumulating power, ceases only when and where 
 the great purpose of all human teaching shall be consummated ! 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 1811. 
 
 The English Conference being in Sheffield this year, (1811,) the Doctor 
 repaired thither to attend its sittings, having been previously requested to 
 preach the first of a series of sermons. With this request he complied, — 
 delivering the former part of his sermon in Carver Street Chapel, on 
 a Monday evening, and the latter in Norfolk Street, on the forenoon of 
 the succeeding Sabbath. His text was Heb. xi. 6, and the plan of his 
 discourse is inserted in his Notes at the close of the same chapter. The 
 writer having heard both, has a distinct recollection of the overwhelming 
 impression produced on the auditories ; his reasonings and arguments, in 
 the first instance, filled the mind with reverential awe ; and in the 
 second, — becoming more experimental and practical, — suffusing, by one 
 sudden burst of impassioned eloquence, every cheek with tears. At the 
 
 * Wlien people say such an one is injudicious, or ignorant, or feeble, or shallow, 
 but she is a good mother ; they talk nonsense. That which the woman is the mother 
 will be ; and her personal qualities will direct and govern her maternal instinct, as her 
 taste will influence her appetite.” 
 
PART V. — SECTION II. 
 
 45 
 
 close of an argument he observed ; — “ God is good, — goodness itself in 
 the abstract ; essentially good in himself, and relatively good to man : 
 He can will nothing contrary to his nature, and can purpose or decree 
 nothing contrary to his will ; and he willeth that men everywhere should 
 be saved : ‘ Say unto them, As I live, saith the Lord God, I have no 
 pleasure in the death of a sinner Go home, then, ye parents, and tell 
 your children that Christ died for them ; go home, ye children, and tell 
 your parents that Christ died for them ; husbands, wiyes, men and 
 women, proclaim it in the hearing of your neighbours, that Jesus Christ, 
 by the grace of God, tasted death for every man : tell them that he died 
 for ally whether in hell, earth, or heaven; tell them that those of the 
 human family now in heaven, are saved, — that those in hell might have 
 been saved, — and those on earth may be saved ! ” Mr. Benson preached 
 in the evening of the same day that the second sermon was preached. 
 The celebrated William Dawson having heard both of these extra- 
 ordinary men on the occasion, hit off their peculiarities as preachers, 
 to the writer, in his own graphic style, some time afterwards. “ Image 
 to yourself,” said he, “ Adam Clarke and Joseph Benson in the same 
 pulpit ; Jesus Christ in one corner of the chapel, and a penitent in 
 another : the former presses the penitent to go direct across the chapel, 
 and through the crowd to Christ : ‘ No, brother Clarke,’ says Benson, 
 ‘ that won’t do ; he must not disturb the people in the centre ; let 
 him go round the skirts of the congregation, and by taking the 
 extremity of the chapel, he will be able to come at the Saviour in that 
 way, without inconvenience to others.’ Adam’s is the shorter cut; 
 he concludes that the penitent cannot reach Christ too soon^ and that 
 others ought to forego any little inconvenience either by simply rising, or 
 by stepping aside. He has the sinner brought to Christ, before Benson 
 has got well through his definitions.” On the Monday evening, the 
 abstract idea of God seemed at one time to be too much for the Doctor’s 
 mind, and in a moment of difficulty, when he felt the poverty of human 
 language, he craved the indulgence of the congregation to allow a 
 coinagcy and with their permission, he would style the Supreme God, 
 “ The Omni-Being !” 
 
 In accordance with the “ short cut ” of Mr. Dawson, it may be 
 remarked, .that the Doctor, on reading a treatise on faith, by an old 
 author, in which he had numbered no less than fourteen hundred divi- 
 sions and subdivisions, threw down the volume, saying, “This is not the 
 faith by which a penitent is to be brought to Christ ; it is calculated to 
 perplex rather than direct.” 
 
 In speaking of faith, of justification, and those subjects which 
 naturally press themselves on the attention of some preachers, in their 
 addresses to awakened sinners and newly converted characters, he never 
 employed the term righteousness ; and it is rarely found in any of his 
 
46 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 published works : this was owing partly to the difficulty persons had of 
 affixing proper ideas to it ; still more because of the manner in which it 
 had been abused, especially by persons of antinomian principles, and not 
 a little the result of his views of general, in opposition to particular re- 
 demption. He has even been known to omit the first verse in the 19 th 
 hymn of the large Hymn-Book, beginning with, “Jesus, thy blood and 
 righteousness,” because of the ambiguity of the term, as he supposed, to 
 the generality of those to whom he preached. 
 
 Though the Doctor’s studied avoidance of the same text, as the 
 ground-work of discourse, has been noticed, yet, in two or three rare 
 cases, the writer has been able to trace a repetition. One may be men- 
 tioned. When on a visit to Manchester, to preach an occasional sermon, 
 he was waited upon by Mr. Anderson on the Saturday evening. The 
 Doctor said to him, in a frank way, “ Give me a text for to-morrow, for 
 I have no set sermons, like you lads.” Mr. A., who had heard that he 
 had preached a great sermon some time before on Luke xxiv. 46 — 48, and 
 was anxious to hear his views on it, took up the Bible, and after turning 
 over some leaves of the New Testament, said, “To-morrow is Easter 
 Sunday ; here is a text will suit the day, ‘ Thus it is written, and thus it 
 behoved Christ to suffer,’ &c.” “ That will do,” observed the Doctor, 
 
 and accordingly preached upon it : whether he recollected having had it 
 before, or whether it was forcibly impressed upon his mind, so as to lead 
 him out of his usual course, cannot be stated ; but owing to the circum- 
 stance of his accustomed method of preaching from his general know- 
 ledge of a subject, rather than from previously written notes, the pro- 
 bability is, that the discourse would abound with a great deal of varied 
 matter. 
 
 As several allusions to the Doctor’s ministry have been interspersed 
 through the preceding pages, it may be proper to take a more general 
 view of his ministerial character, for the sake of distinctness, and for the 
 purpose of furnishing the reader with a model of one of the brightest 
 ornaments of the English pulpit. 
 
 In looking at Dr. Clarke’s published sermons, and comparing them 
 not only with each other, but with those we have heard from his lips, we 
 feel it is impossible for posterity to understand his character as a preacher 
 and sermoniser, without attending to the manifest difference between his 
 oral and his published discourses. The truth is, in one class of sermons 
 the excellent author was seated in his study ; in another, he was found 
 occupying the pulpit ; and it is only in the latter case that a just estimate 
 can be had of his real character as an apostle of God, or a satisfactory 
 discrimination made between the student and the preacher. This was a 
 point which, during life, his stated hearers could easily decide, by com- 
 paring his printed with his oral discourses ; and this will account 
 sufficiently for any real or apparent inequality between some of the 
 
PART V. — SECTION II. 
 
 47 
 
 earlier and some of the later of his published discourses; the former 
 having been expressly prepared for the press — the latter intended simply 
 for present use and a limited circle, as food for the affections and intelli- 
 gence of his auditory. When he wrote, it was not for the generation 
 moving around him merely, but for posterity. When he preached, he 
 assumed more the character of a person standing by the highway, who, 
 on observing the multitudes pass along, many of whom he might never 
 see again, was anxious to give them a word of wholesome advice, to aid 
 them during the remainder of their journey. Hence, in the one case, we 
 find fewer references to classical authority, less painstaking, less for- 
 mality, and more frequent appeals to the hearer ; in the other, direct 
 addresses to the reader, accompanied often with those quotations, 
 references, and qualities of matter which are more adapted to the retire- 
 ment of the closet, than to the momentary pause of a hearer from the 
 bustle of life ; — though in both cases, the holy and the useful are pre- 
 eminently in view. He was so completely transformed from the student 
 into the preacher, that the two seemed to combine, leaving the one in the 
 study, and bringing the other into the house of God, full of holy fervour, 
 simplicity, and heavenly wisdom : in this consisted the charm of his 
 ministry as a learned man, and in this was to be found the advantage of 
 his hearers. 
 
 Though he had a plan in the pulpit, ‘and that plan was perceptible, in 
 most instances, to the more intelligent of his congregation, it was rarely 
 announced with the formality of division and subdivision. The plan was 
 unfolded by degrees, in the execution of the several parts. The whole was 
 free, easy, and yet not careless ; all being poured forth like one unbroken 
 stream, with here and there a powerful rush, setting all around on the 
 move ; deep, clear, and refreshing, — simple as the element itself, and 
 without any apparent effort. In cases where order was the least percep- 
 tible, the fine fiow of thought and feeling in which he indulged, was 
 invariably taking within its vast and sweeping range, whatever of the 
 useful came in its way on its route to the ocean of eternity, whither he 
 was always conducting his hearers. Numerous as might be the windings 
 of the argument through which he conducted his auditors, it was still, 
 like the same stream, working out its own natural bed amid the moun- 
 tains and over the plains, coming, as it were, from the heights of the 
 understanding, and finally settling down into the heart, in fixed and 
 steady purpose. 
 
 Still he was the pure child of nature, ranging at liberty ; hence, he 
 was not only discursive, but occasionally excursive. He never fixed his 
 mind exclusively upon his text, just like a fly, confined to the spot on 
 which it alights, and with limited vision, taking in one object at a time, 
 and that object immediately before him ; nor did he, though neither text 
 nor context were disregarded, confine himself to the connecting passages ; 
 
48 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 sufficient attention was paid, if not ample justice done, to both. He 
 often took up some broad general truths, and showed the bearing of one 
 part of God’s Word and God’s economy of grace upon another, and the 
 relation of each part to the whole ; the one answering the other like an 
 echo, less powerful, only because more distant ; and then, after having 
 ranged, like the bird of the sun, along the broad expanse of heaven, he 
 would drop down upon the text, like the same bird upon its food — would 
 dissect it with the finest discrimination, and hand round portions suited, 
 to the varied character and condition of his hearers; and all, with a 
 freedom and grace not to be found in any of his writings, except in some 
 letters on religious subjects written in early life to his Mary. 
 
 His plan was chiefly expository ; and this, of all others, without great 
 care and labour, will lead to a certain stiffness and abruptness in manner. 
 But though Dr. Clarke was in an eminent degree an expounder of God’s 
 Word, he was, as just stated, at the most remote distance from anything 
 like inflexibility in the pulpit. With great compass and reach of mind, 
 there was nevertheless very often a great deal of closely webbed and 
 microscopic thought, — a great deal of minute criticism, one thought very 
 often thrown back upon another, each dependent upon the other, and the 
 whole brought up again with the combined effect of a piece of beautiful 
 mechanism to the eye, — though still the mechanism of nature rather than 
 of art. He spoke from his general knowledge, 'as well as from a know- 
 ledge of the original of the particular text under discussion ; and while 
 the one aided him in the different shades of meaning attached to the 
 same word in different connections, the other, like a fountain, was con- 
 stantly welling forth of its abundance, refreshing and enriching the vine- 
 yard of the Lord. His biblical knowledge, his Oriental researches, and 
 his skill in criticism, were always apparent, but so sanctified by piety, 
 and so unostentatiously employed in the house of God, that his more 
 acquired accomplishments appeared natural, — so natural indeed, as to 
 resemble shoots from a parent stock, rich in native fruit. 
 
 There were great leading truths which occupied his mind, and which 
 run through the Bible, linking themselves to the present and eternal 
 destinies of man ; and some of these were employed, because of their 
 adaptation to sacred purposes ; but even these were varied in expression ; 
 and, like so many orbs revolving on their own axes, were presenting the 
 auditory with new views, — new, as occasioned by the unusual shinings 
 forth of his own mind, and the more than ordinary influence of the Spirit 
 of God at the time ; as well as new in their use to the hearers, and in 
 their application to other subjects ; and perfectly aware of repetition, a 
 reference in some instances was made to preceding observations, and 
 reasons assigned for still further discussion and explanation. This, how- 
 ever, instead of palling, was refreshment to the memory ; and an old 
 thouglit, allied to a new text, brought with it so many new companions, 
 
PART V.-— SECTION II. 
 
 49 
 
 that, like an old friend, it was welcomed the more on account of its 
 associates, — never failing to yield variety and life to the whole. 
 
 He had a large oblong volume, called his text-book,* in which there 
 
 * A reference having been made to the Doctor’s readings preparatory to preaching, 
 an extract from one of the MSS. which he employed for the occasion may be given, 
 labelled, Text-Book for every day of the year. 1796. From Jiine 21st to August 30th, 
 inclusive ; ” each page occupying two days. 
 
 June 25. 
 Prov. I. 
 II. 
 
 Luke VIII. 
 
 Ephes. II. 
 
 20 — 23. The cry of wisdom to man, and the promises she makes. 
 
 10. When wisdom entereth into thy heart, and understanding is plea- 
 sant unto thee. 
 
 5. Parable of the Sower. 
 
 27. The man possessed by a legion of devils. 
 
 41. Jaims’s daughter raised to life. 
 
 1. You hath he quickened who were dead in trespasses. 
 
 8. By grace are ye saved through faith. 
 
 19. Now, ye are no more strangers and fore’gners, but fellow-citizens. 
 
 June 26. 
 Prov. III. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Luke IX. 
 
 Ephes. III. 
 
 1 — 4. My son, forget not my law, but let thy heart keep my command- 
 ments. 
 
 5, 6. Trust in the Lord with thy whole heart, and lean not to thy own 
 understanding. 
 
 11, 12. My son, despise not the chastening of the Lord — neither faint. 
 
 21 — 26. Keep sound wisdom and discretion — they shall be life to thy soul. 
 
 27—28. Withhold not good while it is in the power of thy hand to do it. 
 
 14, 15. Enter not into the path of the wicked — avoid it, pass not by It, 
 turn from it. 
 
 18. But the path of the just is as the shining light — See the Hebrew. 
 
 23. Keep thy heart with all diligence. 
 
 1—6. Christ’s commission to the Apostles to preach and heal, 
 
 11. The people followed him — he received them — spake to them of 
 
 kingdom. 
 
 23. If any man will come after me, let him renounce himself. 
 
 8. Unto me, whom am less than the least of all saints. 
 
 14. For this cause I bow my knee unto the Father. 
 
 In this way he went through the whole Bible, selecting each day, in regular succc:' 
 sion, from three of the writers of the Old and New Testament, such portions of trxith 
 as seemed most adapted to instruct and impress the people of his charge : and it was 
 scarcely possible, from a cursory glance at such selections, for a mind like that of the 
 subject of the memoir, net to settle down on some of the texts for the day, and to pre- 
 sent to his hearers a constant stream of varied instruction. 
 
 In the same MS. the whole of the Psalms were divided, towards the close, and 
 portioned out into thirty-one parts, for the month, and similar selections made from 
 them. 
 
 Day op the Month. PsaUn I. to XIV. 
 
 Psalm I. 
 
 Psalm IT. 
 
 1 . Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the un- 
 
 godly. 
 
 2. But his delight is in the law of the Lord. 
 
 3. His blessedness — He shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of 
 
 water. 
 
 4—6. The character and misery of the wicked — The ungodly are not so. 
 
 1 . The opposition, and had success of the great and the godless again st 
 
 Christ and his gospel. 
 
 7, 8. The purpose of God to save by Christ Jesus, and the extent of that 
 salvation. 
 
 VOL. IT. 
 
 E 
 
50 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 were divisions for dates, for the lessons of the day, together with 
 book, chapter, and verse. Each chapter, having been previously 
 examined, had the verse or verses distinctly marked, which offered 
 themselves to his notice as texts. This plan cost him a great deal 
 of labour and close attention ; but when completed, as he informed a 
 friend, it amply rewarded him ; for by adopting it, he was never without 
 a text on any day during the year ; while his general knowledge of the 
 sacred writings, and an application of the mind to the selected passage, 
 soon furnished him with a sermon, or with such a portion of instruction 
 
 Psalm II. 11, 12. 
 Psalm III. 
 
 Psalm IV. 
 
 4—6. 
 
 7. 
 
 Psalm V. 
 
 6, 7. 
 
 8 . 
 
 1-3. 
 
 — 11 , 12 . 
 
 Psalm VI. 
 Psalm VII. 
 
 Psalm VIII. 
 
 Psalm IX. 
 
 Psalm X. 
 Psalm XT. 
 Psalm XII. 
 Psalm XIII. 
 Psalm XIV. 
 
 1 . 
 
 9, 10. 
 
 1 , 2 . 
 
 1, 4. 
 
 1 . 
 
 9, 10. 
 17, 18. 
 7. 
 
 1 . 
 
 1—6. 
 
 7. 
 
 The duty of those who have the decree published among them, and 
 the care they should — 
 
 The duty, confidence, and security of the godly man. 
 
 Salvation belongeth unto the Lord. 
 
 Know that the Lord hath set apart the godly man for himself. 
 There may he many that say. Who will show us any good ? 
 
 The comfort and security of those who are in the divine favour. 
 Give ear unto my words, O Lord ! consider my meditation. 
 
 But as for me, I will come into thy house, in the multitude of thy 
 mercies. 
 
 Let all those who put their trust in thee rejoice — for thou. Lord, 
 ■wilt bless. 
 
 The distresses and petition of a penitent soul. 
 
 O let the wickedness of the wicked come to an end ! but establish 
 the just. 
 
 0 Lord, our God, how excellent is thy name in all the earth ! 
 
 What is man, that thou art mindful of him, and the Son of Man, 
 
 that thou visitest him ? 
 
 1 will i^raise thee — I will shew forth all thy marvellous works. 
 
 The Lord will be a refuge for the oppressed, — And they who know 
 
 thy name. 
 
 Lord, thou hast heard the desire of the humble, thou ■wilt j)repare 
 their heart. 
 
 For the righteous Lord loveth righteousness : his countenance 
 doth behold — 
 
 Help, Lord, for the godly man ceaseth, for the faithful fail from 
 among men. 
 
 David’s complaint — exercise of soul— sui^plication — confidence, and 
 success. 
 
 0 that the salvation of Israel were come out of Zion ! when the 
 Lord bringeth — 
 
 In addition to the line exiDressive of the general sense of the text, there was some- 
 times a remark appended, in a hand more erect, with a view to attract attention ; as 
 Ephes. vi. 10 — matter for many discourses V voy. xiii. 18, “see the Heb. ; “ Col. iii. 
 18, 22. “ The Duties of, 1 Wives, 2 Husbands, 3 Children, 4 Parents, 5 Servants.” 
 Eccl. iv. 9 — 12, “remark four things in the verse John xvii. 1—5, 6 — 11, 11—19, 20— 
 26, “ This chapter may be paraphrased in these four parts ; ” Pssd. xix. 7 — 14, “ each of 
 these eight verses is a proper text ; ” Psal. xxiii. 1 — 6j “each verse here is a good text;’* 
 Psal. Ixxiii. 1 — 20, “paraphrase this — it will be very profitable ; ” Psal. xci. 1 “a most 
 beautiful and important dialogue ; ” Psal. cx. 1 — 7, “ this is a Psalm of uncommon 
 excellence Psal. cxi; 1 — 10, “ a fine Psalm; ” Psal. cxii. 1 — 10, “a fine Psalm contain- 
 ing a number of excellent texts ; ” PsaL cxxxi. 1 — 3, “ very instructive,” &c. &c. 
 
 These text-books, which were originally written in parts, were at length entered into 
 a thick oblong book, which, he observed to the biographer, “occupied aboiit four 
 hundred days to complete.” 
 
PAKT V. — SECTION II. 
 
 51 
 
 or spiritual food, as was calculated to feed the flock of God. Still, it has 
 numerous and important advantages, and was peculiarly adapted to the 
 genius that struck it out. Dr. Clarke, favoured with ready utterance and 
 an extensive vocabulary, both in his own tongue and in that of others, 
 and a mind stored with biblical and general knowledge, could have strewed 
 — if not flowers, a goodly portion of fruit, along any path in which he 
 was disposed to walk. 
 
 As a preacher, his action was far from varied, and not, perhaps, in 
 every instance, graceful to fastidious taste ; but it was rarely otherwise 
 than chaste, and always appropriate. His voice, though not round and 
 melodious, was strong and clear ; and though unable at all times to 
 manage its tones, which rendered it in the more logical parts of his dis- 
 course a little monotonous, yet when the argument was brought to a close, 
 and the people were wound up to conviction by it, there were outbreak- 
 ings in the voice, as outpourings among the people, rarely heard and rarely 
 witnessed, except from himself, and under his own ministry. It was like 
 the wand of Moses smiting the rock ; the heart was touched, and the eyes 
 were instantly suffused with tears ; or his appeal to the children of Israel, 
 when, as with one voice, they exclaimed, “ The Lord our God will we 
 serve, and his voice will we obey.” One instance, among many, may be 
 noticed, heard by the writer, and which can never be forgotten. The 
 Doctor was preaching on the occasion of opening a new chapel.^ His 
 text led him to dwell on the love of God to man — ^his favourite theme. 
 After having established, the doctrine of universal redemption by a process 
 of reasoning equally original, powerful, and conclusive, and the hearers 
 having apparently brought their hearts and understandings to the subject 
 — feeling and perceiving more and more the possibility, the certainty, of 
 present, personal salvation, he gave a sweep with his arm, then drawing 
 it toward himself, and grasping his hand as though he had collected in it 
 several objects of value, to throw them, like alms, in the full bounty of 
 his soul, among the people,— “ Here,” he exclaimed, in a strain of im- 
 passioned feeling, and with one of those sudden and peculiar elevations of 
 voice for which he was remarkable, frequently melting the whole congre- 
 gation to tears, — “ Here,” said he, ‘‘ take the arguments among you — 
 make the best of them for your salvation — I will vouch for their validity 
 — I will stake my credit for intellect upon them ; — yes, could they be 
 collected into one, I would suspend them from a single hair of this grey 
 head, (pointing at the same moment to his fine white locks,) and defy all 
 the sophistry of men, and all the malice of devils, to sever it from the 
 throne of the all-merciful God, to which it is inseparably fastened ! ” It 
 is an expression, the force of which can be felt only by those who are in 
 possession of the previous reasoning — (reasoning like that employed in his 
 sermon on “The love of God to a Lost World,”) — and to the truth of 
 * Ebenezer, SlielReld. 
 
52 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 wliicla there was a sudden burst of responsive applause from the lips of 
 the auditory, similar to a burst of triumph in a political assembly ; re- 
 strained, however, within due bounds, by the sanctity of the place, and 
 the hallowed influence which accompanied the words. 
 
 Persons who knew him not, might say, he never rose to eloquence ; 
 that he had little imagination — that his manner was dry and scholastic — 
 and that his sermons, though argumentative, logical, and acute, and there- 
 fore chiefly addressed to the judgment, were calculated to please only the 
 scholar and the mathematician, but not to interest the majority of man- 
 kind ; persons, it is repeated, who knew him not, might talk and write 
 thus. But he had something more than imagination — (and even of that 
 he had more than he dared to indulge ;) he had energies allied to real 
 genius, if genius be what a writer defines it to be, “ strong feeling and 
 judgment,” or in two words, “ impassioned wisdom.” * He blended with 
 the wisdom of a sage the simplicity of a child. Confessed as it has been, 
 that he was always at home when combating the subtle objections of in- 
 fidelity — establishing the truth of Christianity — demonstrating the im- 
 materiality of the human soul, and expounding the Scriptures ; yet it 
 ought not to be forgotten, that he was equally happy when soaring to the 
 heights, or diving into the profounder depths of Christian experience; 
 accommodating himself equally — as will be perceived in his sermons — to 
 the babe, to the young man, and to the father in Christ. Though he 
 exercised the talents of a master in the field of legitimate argument, and 
 wielded with mighty energy the weapons of truth, he never failed, while 
 taking with him the head of the scholar, to take along with him the heart 
 of the humble, uneducated Christian ; no, not even when he seemed filled 
 with the inspired glimpses of the seer — was expatiating upon experimental 
 religion — or exploring the hidden regions of future blessedness. Though 
 never loose and declamatory, still there was thought without its apparent 
 labour. The whole had the breath of a morning in May, rather than the 
 vapidness of materials that had lost their freshness and spirit by long and 
 constant exposure. His mind was like an immense mine, as well as an 
 ever and overflowing stream ; he seemed to have read all, to have known 
 all ; and from the inexhaustible treasures within, was perpetually giving 
 forth from his fulness. Still, (to change the metaphor,) it was not a 
 mere forest of thought, tedious and oppressive to the hearer from the 
 multiplicity apparent, always saying everything that could be said, instead 
 of what should be said ; he never appeared to exhaust a subject, but when 
 he had preached one hour, seemed as though he could preach another, 
 leaving his hearers always desirous of more, and wondering that he should 
 finish so soon. 
 
 Many men are to be found with more elegantly formed minds than 
 Dr. Clarke, but with that elegance, at an immeasurable distance from him 
 
 Ebenezer Elliott, the Corn-law Rhymer.* 
 
PAKT V. — SECTION II. 
 
 53 
 
 in learning and critical acumen. Persons are to be found, too, 'with finer 
 voices, and who have cultivated the art of public speaking, with all its 
 prettiness, much his superiors ; but without a ray of his genius ; without 
 any of his depth, compass, originality, or wealth of thought. His mind 
 — though in the strictest sense of the term, not an elegant one, was 
 sufficiently elegant to preserve him from offending ; his voice sufficiently 
 tuned to please ; his speaking sufficiently engaging to attract ; and his 
 diction, though remote from the ornate, partly through choice, has gene- 
 rally had the character of being remarkable for its simplicity, its purity, 
 its strength, and its perspicuity. Except in his younger days, he never 
 appears to have paused to turn a period : and with this we are the more 
 surprised ; for so far as the ancient classics are concerned, both Greek and 
 Roman, he appears to have taken the- advice of Horace, agreeably to the 
 translation of Francis — ‘‘ Read them by day, and study them by night ; ’’ 
 — an assiduous attention to which is so much calculated to form the taste, 
 nourish the genius, and improve the style. Profound and elevated as were 
 his thoughts, he was never “ hard to be understood.” One of the finest 
 compliments ever paid to a great man, is said to have been unintentionally 
 paid to him by a poor woman in the Zetland Isles. The aged matron 
 referred to, had, with others, heard of his celebrity, and went to hear him 
 preach at Lerwick. On her return home, she remarked with great sim- 
 plicity, “They say that Dr. Clarke is a learned man, and I expected to 
 find him such ; but he is only like another man, for I could understand 
 every word he said.” This is too plain to require comment ; and if 
 learning and obscurity are synonymous with the vulgar. Dr. Clarke was a 
 happy exception. 
 
 At the Conference to which reference has been made, the subject of 
 introducing organs into the Wesleyan chapels was long and warmly 
 argued ; Dr. Clarke was strongly opposed to it, but the question was at 
 length carried in favour of the introduction of one into Brunswick 
 Chapel, Liverpool.* This place of worship, just completed, the trustees 
 applied to the Doctor to afford his aid in opening : he remarked to them 
 in reply ; — “ Though I have nearly made up my mind never to preach in 
 a chapel where an organ is used, yet as I love the people in Liverpool, 
 many of them being the seals which God, in his mercy, has granted to 
 my ministry among them, I would gladly have embraced the opportunity 
 you offer me of testifying my affection for them, by undertaking the 
 opening services of their chapel, had you found it convenient to have kept 
 to the time originally proposed ; but as that is postponed to a time to 
 
 * The biographer, being present on the occasion, bears a lively recollection of the 
 debate. Mr. Bunting had, by that time, acquired influence, especially among the 
 junior preachers, and those of them who had a vote, and a taste, for the Respectable^ 
 like himself, paired off with him. This conquest enabled him to pitch his note still 
 higher in the Leeds organ case, whose frightful sound was heard through the whole 
 Connexion. 
 
54 
 
 ADAM CL All A K. 
 
 which it is impossible to protract my stay in these quarters, I must 
 decline it.” 
 
 A somewhat humorous incident turned up, when he was preaching at 
 a certain place, on — “ Let him that is athirst come. And whosoever will, 
 let him take of the water of life freely.” He offered the people a free 
 gospel, strengthening his remarks by a reference to Isaiah Iv. 1, where the 
 “ waters ” are presented “ without money and without price ; ” stating by 
 a little ingenuity of thought and expression, that, in every place of public 
 worship, where the gospel is preached, a “ well-spring ” of the “ water of 
 life ” is opened up — gushing fresh and pure from the throne of God — 
 whence the tide of mercy is ever seen to flow — and to which every 
 redeemed soul is invited to repair and drink, that he may live for ever. 
 Just as he was taking up the Hymn-Book to announce the page of the 
 closing hymn, one of the stewards stepped up the pulpit stairs, and whis- 
 pered — “There is to be a collection this morning, sir, for the chapel.” 
 “ Had I known that,” replied the Doctor, “ I should have taken another 
 text.” A free gospel^ “ without money and without price,” and a collection 
 appended to it, seemed, for the moment, to place the announcements some- 
 what at variance with each other: however, though a little disconcerted, he 
 made an ingenious appeal, and the collection was improved by the circum- 
 stance. Still somewhat unhinged, and this being perceived by the lady 
 of the house at which he dined, on his return from the chapel, she accosted 
 him, — “ It is all right. Doctor : we have a well at a distance from our 
 house, to which the servant goes every morning, to fetch from it the water 
 necessary for the day : we pay nothing for the water ; it is free of all 
 cost, save paying for the pitcher in which it is carried : now, the ‘‘ water 
 of life ” is equally free ; we pay nothing for it ; we only pay for the 
 chapel, which is the pitcher, so to speak, where the water is contained. 
 O yes ! Sir, the gospel is quite free ; and let us thank God, that we have 
 only to contribute our mite towards the support of the servant, who is 
 worthy of his hire, and to the purchase of the vessel that carries so 
 valuable a gift.” Though the truth of the fact of a free gospel was 
 always present in the mind of the Doctor, as it must be in the mind of 
 every Christian minister, yet it was by the ingenious illustration of the 
 lady of the house that the unpleasant feeling was dissipated — feeling 
 rendered additionally acute from the circumstance of his return to the 
 different places being generally fixed for making collections, when extra 
 aid was required, as he always commanded crowded congregations, and 
 consequently large contributions. He was the first who raised the 
 tone of the public collections in the body. A gentleman compliment- 
 ing him on the large sums collected after his sermons, he answered, — 
 “I never stoop to what is called begging; I have preached the gospel 
 in different parts of the kingdom for many years ; in my sermons, I have 
 laboured to give a good character of my Maker, as a God of mercy ; 
 
PART V.— SECTION II. 
 
 55 
 
 the message finds its way to the heart ; and when the heart is melted, 
 then is my turn to step in, and to ask a little for the support of his 
 cause.” 
 
 Though he rarely deviated from the plan, already noticed, of selecting 
 a passage of the Scripture readings for the day, there was a particular 
 exception, which may be noticed. I preached yesterday forenoon,” said 
 he to the writer, “ for the first time in my life, on a text given to me in 
 a dream : and a divine time we had ! I dreamed on the Saturday night, 
 that I was in a chapel — that a minister was in the pulpit, with whom I 
 had no personal acquaintance — that he took for his text a passage in the 
 Psalms, beginning with, — ‘ Lift up your heads, O ye gates ; and be ye lift 
 up, ye everlasting doors,’ xxiv. 7 — and that he was unable to make anything 
 of the text : — that I was then called upon to take up the subject, and 
 finish it — and that just as I entered upon the work, I awoke. When I 
 arose on the Sabbath morning, and, agreeably to custom, read the lessons 
 selected for the day, several texts were presented from which, I concluded, 
 I could preach ; but my mind as often reverted to the psalm of the dream, 
 and from which I had never before taken a text. I again went over the 
 lessons, but was still directed to the psalm, though unable to see clearly 
 into it. Besides, I am naturally averse to all dependence upon dreams 
 and sudden impulses, from the liability to be deceived by them. At 
 length, being unable to get rid of the impression, I said to myself — 
 ‘There may be something of God in this: I will even take it.’ There 
 was evidence in the congregation, — whatever may become of the 
 dr earn y that I was divinely directed to the subject to which the text gave 
 rise.” 
 
 Being told that a minister, of whose mind, scholarship, and powers of 
 utterance, he entertained a high regard, had preached an excellent sermon 
 on Abraham offering up Isaac, he observed, — “ That is a portion of God’s 
 word which I never dared to take as a text ; nor can I perceive — beyond 
 two or three particulars, which may be expressed in very few words, 
 what use can be made of it to a Christian congregation. It is one 
 of those things for which I can give no rational account — that God should 
 try^ or tempt a man, to sacrifice his own child ; to go so dehberately 
 about the work of taking away his life ! I know that God was in it — I 
 see his hand — I can connect the type with the anti-type ; but reason is at 
 fault, and I leave it as one of the strange things of God, which he only 
 can interpret.” The subject of human sacrifices being noticed, he said, 
 “ Some writers have concluded, that they originated in this act of 
 Abraham; and though there is no positive record to contradict it, — 
 having no account of any such case preceding, though numerous instances 
 following it, — yet I cannot fully close in with the opinion : it is a fact, 
 nevertheless, that many persons of high intellect, but unvisited by the 
 clear light of a Divine revelation, have concluded, that, in some extra- 
 
5G 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 ordinary cases, the Divine Being demanded sacrifices of this kind, and 
 would only be propitiated in this way. But it is a doctrine with which 
 Christianity has nothing to do ; we have but one altar — one sacrifice : 
 ‘ Christ our passover is sacrificed for us.’ ” He then reprehended the 
 practice of which some persons are guilty, in designating abominable 
 lusts, as so many Isaacs^ which are to be sacrificed ; — a subject respecting 
 which he has entered a severe protest in his Notes, at the close of 
 Gen. chap. xxii. 
 
 To the interests of the Bible Society he continued, as heretofore, 
 to attach himself with all the ardour of youth. He remarked, to a friend, 
 “ I am — as far as that word can be properly used, quite proud of the 
 Methodists in Liverpool : they have done themselves great credit — and I 
 hope to make some good use of the circumstance at our next meeting. 
 The Methodists alone, I find, are nearly one half in the amount of 
 the annual subscriptions ; and whereas, there is one annual subscriber 
 of £5 5s. among all the other inhabitants of Liverpool, there are not less 
 than twelve among the Methodists alone ! Blessed be the name of the 
 Lord ; they have done just as Methodists should do.” Having the 
 arrangement of some lectures chiefly confided to him, and the plan being 
 interfered with, he observed to Knight Spencer, Esq. — “ The letter to 
 Mr. Saumarez is that, I suppose, which you took for Coleridge^s Pro- 
 spectus. I have seen nothing else of this kind. You should not publish 
 this without giving him an opportunity of revising it — a revision it 
 certainly requires. — Many persons will feel objection at so much of the 
 course being occupied with Bhakespeare and Milton, Five lectures out 
 of twelve, is an arrangement utterly disproportionate, while so many 
 subjects essentially belonging to the Belle Lettres and Oratory, are left 
 untouched. We want science — and science assuming a body., so as to 
 render itself tangible.” It was in this way he was always disposed 
 to reap the greatest possible advantage from occasions that offered, 
 adopting the most substantial part of any particular subject proposed for 
 selection. 
 
 To the English language he had paid close and deep attention, 
 and some of bis remarks to a literary friend on the subject, are distin- 
 guished by their justice and discrimination : — “ I have long deplored the 
 ravages made in our language by the introduction of foreign terms, the 
 injudicious mode of accentuation, and the confused rapidity which has 
 long prevailed, and is still prevailing, in our pronunciation. Several of 
 our best winters have contributed to the debasement and metamorphosis 
 of our language ; some by introducing Graecisins and Latinisms, — espe- 
 cially the latter ; and others by affected terms. Dr. Johnson has formed 
 a compound language, which may be called Anglo-Latin ; and, in so 
 doing, he has left nine- tenths of the nation behind him, and greatly 
 injured the nervous simplicity of our language, while rendering it more 
 
PART V. — SECTION II. 
 
 57 
 
 sonorous.* But indeed sucb. innovations in the English tongue set 
 criticism at defiance, as we have scarcely any standard by which altera- 
 tions and pretended improvements may be tried : our present language 
 being a compound from all the languages of Europe. — The elements 
 of every language should be simple, in order to be understood ; and 
 especially the letters, or what is commonly called the alphabet. The 
 English alphabet is remarkably defective in proper sounds for its vowels, 
 and in proper sounds and names for its consonants ; and it is encumbered 
 with consonants, which are of no service whatever, as they contain no 
 elementary sounds ; and their power is expressed by other letters in the 
 alphabet.” After establishing his charges, by going through the whole of 
 the alphabet, he proceeded : — “ As to pronunciation, one rule should 
 always prevail, particularly in compound terms, — that is, to pronounce 
 the compound parts as distinctly as possible, that the import of the word 
 may be more clearly discerned : but the reverse is now generally prac- 
 tised ; for, in all such words, the accent is laid as near as possible to the 
 first syllable, if not on it. This renders pronunciation confused and indis- 
 tinct. There is a depraved pronunciation used even in the higher ranks, 
 as well as at the bar, and on the stage. If these, by their ridiculous 
 mincing and Frenchified modes be ruining our language, and the pro- 
 vinces or counties not far behind them, in sublime grammatical corruption, 
 need we wonder if the vulgar herd deal, by wholesale, in that which 
 is gross ? — But we are not content with marring our native language : we 
 are daily making depredations of the most serious nature upon the Greek 
 and Latin. These two languages are now pronounced by the English as 
 no other nation in Europe pronounces them. If the true method respect- 
 ing the Latin language exist, it must be taught among the Italians, 
 Spaniards, Portuguese, and French. With respect to these, one thing is 
 worthy of remark, that, though they all pronounce their respective lan- 
 guages very differently, yet one of the Latin prevails among them ; 
 so that a Frenchman, Spaniard, Italian, and Portuguese, and I might add 
 German, have precisely the same method : a proof this, that they have 
 still the true pronunciation of this ancient and noble language among 
 them.” 
 
 It was his love of the force and simplicity of the language in which 
 the Homilies of the Church of England are addressed to the people, 
 (though especially the doctrines and practice inculcated,) that induced 
 him to recommend, abaut this time, a new edition of the work, which 
 was undertaken by some provincial publishers, and had an extensive 
 circulation : and about five years afterwards, — another edition being 
 
 * “ Our lan^age,” observes the late admirable head master of Rugby School, (Dr. 
 Arnold,) “has lost much of its flexibility and power, and much of its native character, 
 by its having adopted, and incorporated into it, such a jumble of Latin, Greek and 
 French exotics with the original Saxon.” 
 
58 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 called for, he wrote, at the request of some intelligent friends, a historical 
 introduction to the work, subjoining a few notes ; characterising it, at 
 the same time, as a “ blessed monument of primitive Protestant faith,” 
 and considering himself “ honoured in having his name registered in front 
 of such compositions.” 
 
 Dr. Clarke was now (1811) projecting a new edition of “ Sturm’s 
 Reflections,” designing in it to throw aside all papers which did not 
 connect science with religion^ and supplying their places with others 
 in philosophy, natural history, chemistry, and domestic economy ; each of 
 which treatises he designed to terminate with a few reflections ; which, 
 while they would still maintain the original design and spirit of the work, 
 would make it, at the same time, much more generally useful. He 
 intended to begin January with the introduction of the most Popular 
 Proofs of the Being of God; a subject he deemed not sufficiently dwelt 
 upon, and on which many simple-minded persons were grievously 
 tempted ; he proposed also, in the course of the work, to supply a paper 
 on each of the attributes of God, one or two upon botany, and a distinct 
 one on each of the planets, on the sun, and on the fixed stars ; and then 
 to touch the subjects no more. Sturm, he thought, made his papers 
 tedious, by coming over his subjects again and again, and with nearly the 
 same materials. 
 
 For want of time, this edition was not published in the precise form 
 in which it was intended to appear. A third edition, however, was pub- 
 lished after his death, as noticed in an earlier part of his personal history, 
 including several new papers.* 
 
 The circulation of the Word of life, whether in the regularly authorised 
 version, or accompanied with note and comment, was a subject which 
 invariably interested Dr. Clarke ; and to aid this, he wrote an Introduc- 
 tion for a ‘‘ Grand Folio Bible,” issued by some enterprising publishers, 
 accompanied with engravings ; in which Introduction, in addition to 
 varied and extensive reading, he suggests some useful remarks in answer 
 to the question, How may a man profit most, and grow wise unto 
 salvation, by reading the Word of God?” 
 
 Perceiving, about this time, a lack of devotional feeling stealing upon 
 the societies in different places, and some of his colleagues in the ministry 
 complaining of the same, he was induced to write an article, “ On Kneel- 
 ing in Public Worship,” which was one of the points that demanded 
 immediate correction ; and the article having been published in the 
 Arrrdnian Magazine, had a happy influence on those who became 
 acquainted with its contents. Sitting at prayer being noticed one day, 
 the Doctor said, “ The best thing I can wish those who irreverently sit at 
 prayer, is a porcupine skin for a cushion.” 
 
 In a conversation on different points connected with the service of the 
 
 i 
 
 \ 
 
 < 
 
 i 
 
 
 * See the Biographer’s Preface to Vol. hi. of Dr. Clarke’s “Miscellaneous Works ’ 
 
PAllT V. — SECTION II. 
 
 59 
 
 sanctuary, one of the party laid considerable stress on preachers meeting 
 the societies after sermon on a Sabbath evening ; — a second was emphatic 
 on the greater importance of a prayer-meeting; — a third denounced long 
 sermons ; — and a fourth defended long preaching, provided it were good. 
 The Doctor being aware that the latter was offering an apology for him- 
 self in what he maintained, observed, “I once heard Mr. Wesley give his 
 opinion on long preaching, while referring to an example that came under 
 his own notice, stating, that l;ie heard a minister distinguished for three 
 half hours’ sermons ; — that the first half hour was spent in explaining the 
 text, the second in repeating what had been said, and the third in contra- 
 dicting the whole ! ” This was sufficiently severe, and felt in the right 
 quarter. 
 
 Directing attention to the subject of government — on a public character 
 being noticed — the Doctor observed, ‘‘Persons might enter his company 
 when they would, without being the wiser: he sat — heard all — took what- 
 ever was^ convertible to his own purposes — left — but gave nothing in 
 return : he was always lurking behind the scenes, and on the watch ; and 
 yet nothing was either said, sung, or published, by those around, that 
 did not bear the high tone of his authority, as though all were afraid to 
 give publicity to anything that did not entirely accord with his views 
 and feelings.” “ Do you not think. Doctor Clarke,” it was remarked, 
 “ that a government of that kind, with such a head, would be likely to 
 degenerate into absolute despotism ?” Dr. Clarke : “ Unquestionably : 
 then turning, like the sun-fiower, to its parent orb, he again introduced 
 Mr. Wesley, in contrast, and said, “ He was a model of a man in most 
 things ; he had power ; but it was the authority which he had acquired as 
 the father of his people ; — he always used it with judgment ; — and from him 
 a word was generally sufficient ! Obedience was cheerfully ceded to him 
 as a right ; and it was his supreme delight to find a spirit of brotherhood 
 among the preachers. There was no attempt to stamp the system, or 
 
 * The name of the person referred' to, was withheld in the ilrst edition out of 
 tenderness, as he was then living; but as years have passed since his death, the 
 tenderness indulged, to which he was not entitled, may now be withdrawn, as it can 
 inflict upon him no personal pain. Such of the living, as were personally acquainted 
 with him, will realise at once, a correct photographic likeness of Jabez Bunting, whose 
 motto from the first was “Am at being first;” — a motto, perpetuated by his son, in 
 tlaehalf-length sketch whicbflfoe has published of him to the world ; a motto to which there 
 can be no great objection, on the admission that purity of motive, suitable vigour, and 
 legitimate means, attend the ascent of the giddy height. Adam Clarke was tender 
 of character, and on a blemish being apparent, he was more ready to conceal than to 
 lay it bare. He was, on this occasion, in social intercourse with a few friends — persons 
 who entertained kindred opinions of the man with himself— and were agreed, as to the 
 little touches and finishings, in the correctness of the likeness. Jabez Bunting was 
 never intended to be a suitable hand-mate for Adam Clarke. There was no congeniality 
 between them, whether of nature or habit. If such were Adam’s views of character 
 then, what would have been his views and feelings if he had lived till the disruption 
 of 1849, when the added policy and despotism of several years had deepened the shades 
 of the picture ! 
 
■60 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 surround the ministerial character, with a kind of authoritative awe, 
 bordering upon that which would tend to constitute the brethren lords 
 over God’s heritage, — leaving the impression of a distinct interest ; the 
 people having one, and the preacher another ; instead of binding them 
 together in love. The moment authority is felt burthensome, that moment 
 the tie is severed, vfhich links man to man. Combined with wisdom, the 
 great secret of Mr. Wesley’s government was loveJ'^ ‘‘Was there not,” 
 it was enquired, “ something like occasional severity, and an attempt to 
 impose burthens upon the brethren, which some of them were unable to 
 bear?” Dr. Clarke: “There might be the appearance of the thing; 
 but facts would not support it. Take a case : Mr. Wesley established 
 preaching at five o’clock in the morning, being persuaded that the people 
 could not prosper without morning and evening preaching : and why ? 
 The preachers rarely visited the people, in consequence of the wide range 
 of country they had to travel over. In one of my early circuits, it 
 occupied me three months in going round to the different places. Mr. 
 Wesley, on finding that the morning preaching had been omitted by some 
 of the brethren, complained. Mr. Pawson, and some others, objected 
 that their physical strength would not allow it. Mr. Wesley, perhaps, laid 
 too much stress upon it ; but afraid lest there should be wilful neglect in 
 some cases, he said, ‘ Those of the brethren, who cannot do it, are unfit 
 for the work, and ought to go home again.’ Kobert Roberts rose, 
 and with great firmness, though perhaps with too little delicacy, said, 
 ‘ Then, Sir, according to your own principles, you ought to be put away 
 from the body, for you do not preach every morning at five o’clock.’ Mr. 
 Wesley threw himself back in his chair— reclined in silence — closed his 
 eyes, while the tears gushed from between the lids, then raised himself, 
 and with softened tone, falteringly said, ‘ You may put me away, if you 
 will.’ This is one instance, among many that might be noticed, of the 
 tenderness of Mr. Wesley’s spirit, and his aversion to the exercise of un- 
 due authority. He acted in this, as well as in other instances, with 
 judgment, and from the necessity of the case, but was open, at the same 
 time, to conviction, — and the moment he was convinced, he yielded ; never 
 holding anything from obstinacy. This,” continued the Doctor, as he 
 remarked on another occasion, “ was true dignity : for it is true dignity 
 to acknowledge we are wrong, when we are convinced of the fact.”^ 
 
 Mr. (afterwards Sir James) Williams, was on intimate terms with the 
 Doctor ; and, owing to his numerous acquaintance, the latter was occa- 
 sionally thrown into society, which his duties and habits would not 
 otherwise have led him into. He here met, about this time, with the 
 author of “ The Wanderer of Switzerland,” whose lays had won him high 
 honour, and with whose genius, Christian spirit and conversation. Dr. 
 
 * How different to this, was the nameless character he photographed in the same 
 •conversationn ? 
 
PART Y. — SECTION II. 
 
 61 
 
 Clarke was Highly delighted. Speaking of the genius of Methodism^ 
 and the local preachers, the Doctor observed, the latter would be rendered 
 still more extensively useful if they would confine themselves to what 
 they knew, and were to cultivate their talents by reading. A gentleman 
 in the company, as if afraid the Doctor did not fully appreciate their 
 worth, (though no one did more so,) remarked, that “ the rams’ horns 
 were useful, and employed by the Divine Being.” ‘‘ True,” replied the 
 Doctor, “ but each horn was perfect in its kind ; but that is not the case 
 with the local brethren, nor even with most of us in the regular work. 
 We all have to go a long way before we reach perfection.^ He referred 
 to the case of some of them attempting occasionally to expound the 
 Scriptures — a practice of which he highly approved, but which he knew, 
 required peculiar tact and extensive biblical knowledge, to be effective. 
 A friend stepping in who had been hearing Mr. Benson preach, the 
 Doctor asked, “ What kind of sermon have you had ? ” But before he 
 could receive an answer, added, “ I need not enquire ; it would be a great 
 one — for he is incapable of anything else.” 
 
 It was in the course of one of these visits, that the Doctor, Mr. Benson, 
 the celebrated Abernethy,t and some others friends met. Abernethy 
 gave full proof of the interest he took in the conversation of the two 
 Wesleyans, by reluctantly leaving their society to visit two patients, and 
 hastening back with all possible dispatch. He could scarcely keep his 
 eye off Mr. Benson’s peculiarly formed head, and in the freedom of social 
 intercourse, requested the privilege of examining it, which was pleasantly 
 acceded to ; and on his return home he made a drawing of it from 
 recollection, stating it to be the most extraordinary head he had ever 
 seen. 
 
 Mr. Williams had a two guinea piece of the reign of William and 
 Mary ; the Doctor had not one in his collection ; and looking at it, he said 
 pleasantly to Mr. Williams, “ ‘ Thou shalt not covet : ’ were not this in 
 the way, I should be tempted.” Mr. Williams replied, “ I intend this to 
 enrich your collection, — but, it is on this condition ; if I am the survivor, 
 I am to have it agairf!” A bargain,” subjoined the Doctor. Three 
 weeks after his death, being a lapse of twenty years, the coin was returned 
 to Sir James Williams. This was carrying out,— though exercised on a 
 
 * Mr. Montgomery regularly heard the local preachers, for a series of years, in 
 Carver Street Chapel, Sheffield, on a Sabbath afternoon ; and though not a Wesleyan, 
 few indeed were the members of the body, who gave them a more candid and attentive 
 hearing ; remarking on one occasion, when some unguarded distinctions were made on 
 the score of talent, ” I never hear one, however feeble, but he has a message from God 
 to me.** 
 
 t Abernethy was at this time in the height of his fame. So early as 1797, the 
 author of the “Pursuits of Literature,** distinguished him as “ a young surgeon of an 
 accurate and philosophical spirit of investigation, from whose genius and labours, the 
 medical art and natural philosophy had reason to expect very great accessions.** 
 These were fully realised. 
 
62 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 comparatively insignificant matter, — tlie great principle which governed 
 all the conduct of Dr. Clarke : for, be it remembered, as an universal rule, 
 “ He that is faithful in little, will also be faithful in much.” 
 
 The public mind had been greatly agitated, by a bill brought into the 
 House of Lords by the Eight Hon. Lord Viscount Sidmouth, entitled, 
 ‘‘ An Act to explain and render more effectual certain Acts of the first 
 year of the reign of King William and Queen Mary, and of the year of 
 the reign of his present Majesty, so far as the same relate to Protestant 
 Dissenting Ministers.” The novel interpretation of the Toleration Act, 
 which had excited so much unpleasant feeling in the course of the pre- 
 ceding year, was carried into this, and the “ Committee of Privileges” 
 was in communication with Mr. Percival, Chancellor of the Exchequer 
 and Prime Minister, on the subject. Dr. Clarke, referring to one of these 
 interviews toward the close of February, observes to a friend, “ Mr. Per- 
 cival received our deputation with great courtesy. You have the general 
 account in the Circular Letter ; the conversation occupied nearly three 
 hours. He assured us, that neither His Majesty’s Government, nor Par- 
 liament, had any design to restrict or abridge any privileges we enjoyed 
 under the Toleration Act, and thought we had not so much cause for 
 alarm as we apprehended; and rather took it for granted, that the 
 decisions that were pending in the Court of King’s Bench, would not be 
 of the kind apprehended by several persons ; but, that if the law should 
 be found to require a different interpretation to that in which it had 
 been generally understood, and we suffered in consequence. His Majesty’s 
 Government would be glad to hear us at any time on the subject. He 
 certainly gave us no reason to suspect that there was any hostile, or even 
 unfriendly feeling towards us.” In accordance with this view, another 
 gentleman on the ‘‘ Committee of Privileges ” at the time, remarked, 
 “We have gained this much by the interview with Mr. Percival, that he 
 has engaged to permit further access to him ; and, little as I like ‘ the 
 man and his communication,’ I incline to believe that he will not 
 encourage the introduction of any measure of hostility. I think the 
 ‘ present expediency,’ (which is the leading feature and the guiding helm 
 of the crooked system of politics usually adopted by the minister of the 
 day) is in our favour. He is between the Scylla and Charybdis of Popery 
 and Methodism ; and his innate dread of the former will throw him 
 insensibly on the side of the latter.” Tl*e prognostications of both were 
 found correct ; and in the whole affair, the influence of the Doctor, Mr. 
 Butterworth and T. Thompson, M.P., of Hull, was sensibly felt. 
 Speaking on the subject afterwards to the writer, he observed, “ I had a 
 long conversation with Mr. Percival on the subject of Llethodism and 
 Methodist chapels, and explained to him the whole system; and Mr. 
 Percival gave his pledge, first, that every Methodist chapel should be 
 free, and on the same footing as the places of worship belonging to the 
 
PART V. — SECTION II. 
 
 63 
 
 Establishment, — exempt from rates ; secondly, that the churches should, 
 like Methodist chapels, have free sittings for the poor. Three days 
 after this conversation he was shot.^ 
 
 ^ The Doctor had now brought on his Commentary to the conclusion of 
 the Book of Joshua ; on which he facetiously remarked, “ Joshua’s sun 
 and moon standing still, kept me going for nearly three weeks.” That 
 owing to the pressure of other work, he became dispirited, will appear 
 from some remarks made to Mr. Butterworth. — I am oppressed with 
 labour of every kind ; looking at what is still before me, I feel no 
 encouragement in reference to the Commentary. I had many grievous 
 knots to untie^ which commentators in general have agreed to cut ; and 
 where shall be the end of this extending work ? Yet, it is my belief, all 
 yet written is indispensably necessary to the useful apprehension of those 
 ancient Records. When Pope undertook the translation of the Iliad 
 and Odyssey, he found it too laborious a task for one mind, and so asso- 
 ciated others with himself, who each took a particular book and versified 
 the whole of it ; Pope merely revising their work. But mine will not 
 admit of this ; I must work alone, and endeavour to make every part 
 perfect so far as I go.’^ But as his was a mind which could only be 
 relieved by renewed labour, we find him escaping from. himself by a 
 second visit to Cambridge, for the purpose of examining different libraries, 
 those especially of Corpus Christ! and Magdalen, in order to complete the 
 projected edition of the Foedera. 
 
 Though in quest of State Papers, the Doctor did not hesitate to step 
 out of his way to indulge in literary research less public in its character : 
 and hence, we find him gratifying both himself and Lord Glenbervie, one 
 of the Lords Commissioners on the Public Records, with observations on 
 an Allegorical Poem, entitled, “ King Hart,” written by Gawin Douglas, 
 Bishop of Dunkeld, and brother to the Earl of Angus, of whom his 
 lordship was a descendant. A printed copy of this curious old poem is to 
 be found in Pinkerton’s Ancient Scottish Sougs; and the Doctor’s 
 remarks on the original MS., in the Pepysian Library, Magdalen 
 College, Cambridge, are published in his “ Miscellaneous Works,” vol. x., 
 p. 376. One opinion entertained by the Doctor, in connection with this 
 poem, seems to possess a little too much of the imaginative, namely, that 
 John Bunyan had, in all probability, borrowed his Pilgrim’s Progress ” 
 from Bernard’s “Isle of Man;” — Bernard, his “Isle of Man” from 
 Fletcher’s “ Purple Island ; ” — Fletcher from Spencer’s “ Fairy Queen ; ” 
 — Spencer from Gawin Douglas’s “ King Hart ; ” and Douglas had taken 
 his plan from the old “Mysteries” and “ Moralities,” which prevailed at 
 
 * He was assassinated in the lobby of the House of Commons, by John Bellingham, 
 May 11th, 1812, the latter of whom was executed for the offence, on the 17th of the 
 same month.— An annuity of £2,000 was granted to Mrs. Percival, and £50,000 in total 
 to her children. 
 
64 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 a still earlier period. On the first, a remark has been made elsewhere ; 
 and to enter fully into the question, would furnish matter for lengthened 
 criticism. 
 
 The late Rev. Thomas Galland, M.A., who was at this time studying 
 at Cambridge, furnished the biographer with an incident bordering upon 
 the amusing. The Doctor took up his residence in Trinity Street ; and 
 while there, supped one evening with Mr. Galland, who had some prime 
 ale. Though not a beverage to which he had any great partiality, yet 
 the flavour was more than usually agreeable to his taste. Mr. Galland 
 having to return the compliment, by supping with the Doctor, and 
 taking it for granted that a little of his old October would not be unac- 
 ceptable, after a day’s toil among dusty folios, especially as it was above 
 the common run of the city, felt disposed to surprise his learned friend, 
 and so took two bottles with him, one in each pocket. Though moving 
 on at a somewhat slower pace than Gilpin, and properly balanced, with 
 less probability of his brittle charge swinging round to the back and 
 coming in contact with each other, and preserved also in tolerable 
 equipoise, and in a state of amity with each other, the contents of one of 
 the bottles, in consequence of the mildness of the weather, and the 
 agitation produced by Mr. Galland’s step, began to be a little turbulent, 
 and at length burst indignantly away from its place of confinement. This 
 disaster occurred just after Mr. Galland’s arrival. The consequence, 
 however, was likely to prove serious, for one of the pieces of glass struck 
 his leg, and made an incision w^hich, on reaching his lodgings, he found to 
 require immediate attention ; and he was laid up by the wound for some 
 time. The evening, it may be observed, was spent agreeably, in religious 
 and literary conversation ; and the Doctor was not only delighted with 
 the literary advantages of the place, but impressed with the piety of 
 several young men with whom he spent the evening. 
 
 About six weeks after his return from Cambridge, he visited Ireland, 
 in company with his eldest son, for the purpose of prosecuting his labours 
 in connection with the Record Commission. He preached in Liverpool 
 on his way, where his ministry was specially owned of God. After a 
 night of storm and peril, a safe landing was made at Dublin. Here he 
 preached, as well as elsewhere, attended Conference, and was assiduous in 
 his researches among the archives of Christ Church, and those of other 
 public institutions. It was during this visit that he met with Dr. 
 Workman, one of his old school-fellows, whom he had satirised when a 
 boy, but had not seen for a period of forty years. Having spent about 
 five weeks in Ireland, he was requested by the Speaker of the House of 
 Commons to proceed with his researches in the Tower of London, and 
 also at Oxford ; at the latter of which places he arrived in the early part 
 of the month of August. Here he wf^s received with great respect by 
 Mr. Gaisford, Regius Professor of Greek in Christ Church, who was also 
 
PART V. — SECTION II. 
 
 65 
 
 curator of the Bodleian Library : and what was to him more than 
 ordinarily delightful, in the way of association, he lodged in the apart- 
 ment once occupied by the celebrated Dr. John Uri, to whose memory 
 he left a merited tribute of respect, in an inscription of forty-three 
 lines, cut by a diamond on a square of glass in the window of the room 
 in whigh he studied. He was not a little gratihed too, on finding himself 
 seated at the table, where Charles Wesley sat, when a student at Christ 
 Church. A letter, however, to Mr. Butterworth, by the perusal of 
 which the intelligent reader will be gratified, will further express his 
 feelings on this subject, as well as furnish him with an idea of the per- 
 plexing task which awaited the Doctor, in reference to some of his 
 Record searches. 
 
 London^ August 18, 1812. 
 
 You know I went to Oxford at the request of the Commissioners, and 
 the first work appointed me was to collate a transcript, made by Wm. 
 Ellis at Durham, of what is called the Boldon Book ; it contains an 
 ecclesiastical survey of the Bishopric of Durham, made in the twelfth 
 century. A letter from the Speaker introduced me to the Bev. Professor 
 Oaisford ; who, as soon as he had read it, said most cheerfully he would 
 render every assistance in his power. He invited me to dine in the Hall 
 at Christ Church, that day ; and thus I had the pleasure of sitting at 
 the table where John Locke, Charles Wesley, and Charles Abbot, had 
 often dined. I had of course, an introduction to the Bodleian ; and 
 Mr. Bandinel, sub -librarian, to whom the Professor had communicated the 
 Speaker’s letter, received me very politely. I requested that a room 
 might be granted to write and collate in, and they appointed me one 
 sequestered from the building, into which no person comes but the libra- 
 rians, and where their most choice MSS., and all their editiones principes 
 of classics are kept. This was just such a place as we needed : we began 
 our work, and were fortunate enough to find two MSS. of the Boldon 
 Book; one among the MSS. oi Doctor Raidlnson^ and the other among those 
 of Archbishop Laud, I had not proceeded far, until I found that Mr. E.’s 
 transcript was not from the original survey made by Bishop Pudsey, in 
 1183, but from a revisal of that survey made by Bishop Hatfield^ 194 years 
 afterwards : of these things the MSS. afforded me a sufficiency of internal 
 evidence. It cost five days’ working to collate these two MSS. with the 
 transcript ; and this furnished a very large harvest of various readings, 
 and a multitude of corrections for the transcript made at Durham. At 
 the end of the Laud MSS. there were several ancient Charters, Placita, 
 Inquisitiones, &c., which I did not think proper to copy without further 
 advice, as they did not appear to be connected especially with the subject 
 of the Boldon Book. When I had gotten proper insight into the work, 
 and was sure of the ground upon which I stood, it struck me I had better 
 ma-be a report to the Speaker himself, rather than mediately through 
 VOL. II. F 
 
66 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 Mr. Cayley. I drew up a long letter, stating the discoveries I had made 
 relative to the MSS. of the Boldon Book. I regret that the Revision had 
 been copied, instead of the original, which rendered it so very awkward to 
 adjust the various readings to it ; and that, after all, it was absurd, as 
 now the scion was made to bear the stock, instead of the stock bearing 
 the scion. At the same time I stated, that I had been over the Carte 
 collection of MSS., and that the only volume which could have been of 
 use to me, containing Charters, and State Papers, from a.d. 1000, and 
 of the contents of which a return was made to His Majesty's Commis- 
 sioners, was not to be found in the Bodleian Library. Without examining, 
 they had set down the contents of a volume (which it does not appear to 
 me they ever possessed) from a MS. catalogue. I hinted, also, that, if the 
 Commissioners wished it, I tvould draw up a detailed report on the* 
 Boldon Book ; the contents, history, &c., of which I pretty well under- 
 stood. As I found that Mr. Bandinel had just been printing proposals 
 for a new edition of the Monasticon, and thinking that the Speaker 
 would feel interested in the business, I enclosed a prospectus of the work. 
 To this long letter I received the Speaker’s reply yesterday ; and from 
 such a man, such a letter is no mean compliment. Two letters also, from 
 Lord Clenbervie, expressing his delight with what I did for him, both at 
 Oxford and Cambridge ; his letter of to-day cautions me “not to work 
 myself to death, nor to aim at too high perfection in the Fcedera.” 
 
 Aware that Sir William Jones had set a high value on a Persian MS. 
 in the Bodleian Library, and pronounced it the most beautiful of any he had 
 ever seen, the Doctor examined it very minutely ; after which, he gave 
 the preference to one in his own collection, and invited the librarian, 
 when in London, to call upon him to see it; the latter did so, and 
 acknowledged the superior excellence of the one in the Doctor’s possession. 
 If the Doctor prided himself on one part of his library more than another, 
 it was in his rich collection of Hebrew, Greek, Latin, Persian, Arabic, 
 &c., MSS., and which he would say would compete with that of any 
 “ private individual in the kingdom.” ^ 
 
 Much as he had already accomplished, his work seemed to accumulate 
 as he proceeded ; reminding us of the traveller at the close of day, who, 
 in fixing his eye on what he supposes to be the last hill, finds, on reaching 
 its summit, height beyond height, over each of which he has to wend his 
 
 * This jocose species of glorying will be ceded to him as a right, when the reader 
 peruses “ A Historical and Descriptive Catalogue of the European and Asiatic Manu- 
 scripts in the library of the late Dr. Adam Clarke, F.S.A., M.R.S.A., &c. &c. &c., 
 Illustrated by fac-similes of curious Illuminations, Drawings, &c., by J, B. B. Clarke, 
 Trinity College, Cambridge.” London : published by J. Murray, 1835. Royal 8vo, pp. 
 235; comprising 254 European, 17 Hebrew, 310 Persian, Arabic, Syriac, &c., 4 
 SiNGALESE, Pali, Sanscrit, &c., Manuscripts. A copy of this “Historical and 
 Descriptive Catalogue,” which the biographer is happy to possess, is a rarity, and 
 seldom to be met with. 
 
PART V. — SECTION II. 
 
 67 
 
 way, before he arrives at the place of promised rest. At the close of the 
 year, he found 15,000 instruments of the reigns of Henry III, Edward I., 
 &c., in the Tower, still to be examined ; together with chests of treaties, 
 and other documents in the Chapter House ; a report to be written on no 
 less than 366 Papal Bulls ; with sundry commercial and military transac- 
 tions in the reigns of Henry VIII., Qaeen Elizabeth, and the beginning 
 of James I. ; and yet this was only a part of what lay before him. 
 
 notwithstanding the tendency of such pursuits to unfit the mind for 
 the more hallowed ones of religion, he never appears to have relaxed his 
 ardour in theological studies : he gave to the world this year, a valuable 
 edition of the Rev. John Butter worth’s ‘‘ Concordance,” with several 
 additions and corrections ; — accurately distinguishing the parts of speech, 
 — improving the natural history of different beasts, birds, trees, plants, 
 and precious stones, — expunging the fabulous relations adopted by Wilson 
 and others, — defining the proper names derived from the Hebrew, Greek, 
 Latin, &c., and comparing them with the originals, — altering the defini- 
 tions of several theological terms, &c. ; closing with a recommendation of 
 the work, as “ the most useful and valuable of its kind in a portable size.” 
 
 Being frequently consulted in cases involving the interests of different 
 parties and individuals, he never failed to give his advice with firmness, 
 precision, and honesty of purpose. I would not wish you,” said he to 
 a friend, “ to have anything to do with a republican paper — that in 
 question, being on the government side, has more to recommend it. The 
 Constitution is good, — it is the best under the sun,— it can scarcely be 
 mended. The executive government may, in particular cases, adopt bad 
 measures — and therefore should not be vindicated in those things : — yet, 
 in general, the executive government must be supported, because, if it 
 be not, down goes the constitution, and up rise anarchy, and every 
 possible evil. In these cases, you must be your own master, and not be 
 obliged to follow the dictates of a proprietor, who probably may not be 
 able to discover the end from the beginning ; — better be a hewer of wood 
 and drawer of water, than be political slave to such a person : be free; and . 
 
 ‘ Scorn to have your free-born toe 
 Dragoon’d into a wooden shoe.’ 
 
 I believe the present murderous war has, on our side, been wrong from 
 the beginning. We should never have engaged in it ; there was not one 
 political or moral reason why we should : it is the war of Pitt’s ambition ; 
 — a crusade in behalf of Popery. I have heard all the infantine reasons 
 that have been urged for its support ; it has ruined Europe — has aggran- 
 dised our enemies — and is ruining us : * — no sophistry can prove the 
 contrary, or make it even plausible.” 
 
 * Whatever difference of opinion might be entertained on the subject, and however 
 the results may be contemplated by statesmen, there can be but one feeling among 
 Christians, respecting the waste of human life, and but one opinion on the subject of 
 
 F 2 
 
68 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 To a young lady iu affliction, he observed, The accompanying 
 volumes I have had lying by me, waiting for a favourable opportunity of 
 sending them to you. As their avowed tendency is to illustrate the Word 
 of God, so as to make it both edifying and pleasing ; they may serve to 
 beguile a tedious hour, or steal something from pain and suffering, 
 without unhinging the mind from its great centre.” To have a friend 
 like this thrown across the path of life, who makes it his study to assuage 
 human woe, whether in young or old, is an unspeakable blessing : and 
 yet, in this case, this was only a passing acquaintance. Being in the 
 house of another friend, where one of its heads laboured under consider- 
 able physical debility, and seeing a glass of ale standing on the table for 
 dinner, he quietly slipped the poker into the fire, and when red hot, put 
 it into the liquor, and stirred it round ; then handing it to his friend, 
 said, ‘‘ Drink that, and it will wrap round your stomach like a piece of 
 warm flannel, and will, at the same time, impart strength, in consequence 
 of its being impregnated with the iron.” 
 
 His native cheerfulness rarely forsook him, even when suffering from 
 indisposition. Handing the Bible^ to the writer, “ There,” said he “ you 
 shall be chaplain for us to-night; internal ailments are but poor accom- 
 paniments, I assure you, to prayer.” This being said with some degree of 
 pleasantry, it was observed, “You are moving the muscles. Doctor, in the 
 wrong direction.” “ It is the fact, however,” he returned, in the same mood, 
 “ and I do not wish you to try it.” Mr. S., some time after, looking upon 
 the mantel-piece, and seeing a small piece of paper lying, with something 
 wrapped up in it, was about to take it up, — “ Let that alone,” said the 
 Doctor, “ it is my medicine : ” further remarking, with the same humour, 
 ‘‘ but I need not be anxious about it, for I suppose I shall not find any of 
 you very willing to take it for me.” The fire being rather low after 
 supper, and Mr. J. S. going to it, and stirring it rather carelessly, the 
 Doctor, in the same vein as before, said, “ If you do not do better than 
 that, Johnny, we may call in the neighbours to see it die.” 
 
 The season being rather cold, and a brisker fire than usual being neces- 
 sary, it called up a somewhat ludicrous reminiscence, which shows the 
 
 expenditure ; the great continental struggle having cost the Powers engaged iu it, 
 less than £2,699,000,000, of which sum, we find £750,000,000 placed to the account of 
 Great Britain ; while, under the eleven years of the reign of Napoleon — to say nothing 
 of what ■ preceded, — 5,449,000 men were sacrificed, — ^beiug a greater number than is 
 stated to have been carried off daring the civil wars of three centuries. In the last 
 year of his reign, Napoleon levied, independent of the National Guards, 1,300,000 which 
 is upwards of 100,000 per month. 
 
 ♦ The Bible belonged to a friend, and having been freely used, the Doctor bad devoted 
 part of the day to the work of repairing it — ^i)asting pieces of paper neatly on some of 
 jts tom pages, and writing on it, “ This Bible was repaired by Adam Clarke ; ” stating 
 further, that if not repaired at first, a heavy book will soon fall into pieces. Idleness 
 would have'been one of the heaviest calamities that could have settled down upon his 
 comforts. ; 
 
PART V. — SECTION II. 
 
 69 
 
 inimitable spirit in which the Doctor’s favourite — the venerable Wesley, 
 met the various “ Incidents of Travel.” Mr. John Broadbent, who 
 travelled with the latter in Scotland, complained of cold, though having 
 six blankets on his bed. Mr. Wesley, finding an equal number on his 
 own, took the one half of them off, and piled them on the bed of his travel- 
 ling companion, who though oppressed with the weight, passed the night 
 under them with tolerable comfort. 
 
 The Doctor himself was generally on the side of contentment, and 
 could brook complaining as ill as self-complacency, and self- adulation. 
 In a committee, in which he presided, a blunt, but honest man, losing for 
 a moment a sense of the respect due to the meeting, told the members 
 that he cared for no man, that he would never flinch from urging his 
 claims, and stating what he thought right, — concluding with some self- 
 praise in the discharge of duty, in which he considered himself entitled to 
 equal attention with his brethren. After a momentary pause, the Doctor 
 rose from his seat — placed his knuckles on the table, with his back 
 partially bent, and his face towards the speaker, and asked in a half 
 serious, half comic tone — “ Is he dead ^ ” The gentleman, unable to com- 
 prehend his meaning, inquired, “ What is that, Sir ? ” “I ask,” replied 
 the Doctor, significantly, ‘Ms he dead ” Still in the dark with regard to 
 the enigmatical question, it was subjoined, “ Is who dead. Sir?” “Your 
 trumpeter, '' returned the Doctor. The members of the committee burst 
 into a fit of laughter, and the voice of the good man was hushed to instant 
 silence. 
 
 Dr. Clarke’s literary honours having been already adverted to, it is 
 unnecessary to say more than that, in the early part of 1813, he was 
 elected fellow of the Antiquarian Society. In support of the honours he 
 had thus won, the year was also distinguished for the publication of part 
 of his Notes on the Four Gospels ; the close of St. Matthew’s being dated, 
 “London, Oct. 22, 1812,” — St. Mark finishing with, “Nov. 12, 22, 
 
 1812, ” — St. Luke, “ Feb. 16, 1813,” — the “ Harmonised Table of Con- 
 tents of the Four Gospels,” appended to St. John, “ London, June 1, 
 
 1813, ” — and the “Introduction to the Four Gospels, and the Acts of the 
 Apostles,” prefixed to St. Matthew, “Feb. 21, 1814.” Mr. T. Clarke, 
 the Doctor’s second son, took part of the labour of correcting proofs, &c., 
 upon himself, being well acquainted with the languages, and one in whom 
 the fullest confidence was placed. This left the Doctor more at liberty 
 to attend to the Kecord Commission, and other duties which more im- 
 mediately pressed upon his time and attention. One little incident is 
 worth naming ; for, averse as Dr. Clarke was to receiving money in the 
 shape of donation, there was one instance, (owing to its object, and the 
 peculiar manner in which it was conveyed,) in which he condescended to 
 accept a trifling sum from a friend — given not for work either done or in 
 prospect, any more than from necessity, but for something to work upon. 
 
70 
 
 ADAM CLARXE. 
 
 On publishing his Commentarj on the Gospel of St. Matthew, he for- 
 warded the first copy he received from the binder, to the late William 
 Marriot, Esq., London, accompanying it with a letter, in which that 
 gentleman was reminded of a circumstance which occurred when the 
 Doctor resided at Spitalfields ; Mr. M. slipped a five pound note into his 
 hand one day, saying, “ I find you have commenced your Commentary ; 
 apply that sum to the purchasing of pens and imperj it will honour me 
 thus far to forward the work.” “This circumstance,” the Doctor ob- 
 served in his letter, “will probably be as completely obliterated from 
 your mind, as an inscription on the sand of the sea shore, when washed 
 away by the returning tide. I have now, however, the pleasure of pre- 
 senting you with i\iQ first-fruits of that Commentary, so far as the New 
 Testament is concerned ; the sum you gave, was applied precisely to the 
 purpose for which it was bestowed.”* 
 
 St. Paul’s epistles being noticed, and a question being asked, respecting 
 an extended Life of the Apostle, several were mentioned, as well as ad- 
 mirable sketches, by popular Christian writers. On the inquirer naming 
 “ The Life of the Apostle, as related in Scripture, by Joseph Gurney 
 Sevan,” the Doctor stated, that he was personally acquainted with its 
 author, that it was more distinguished for its piety than for literary merit, 
 and that its circulation was chiefly confined to the Society of Friends. 
 That published by Dr. Stephen Addington was deemed much superior, 
 and as furnishing some excellent “ critical and practical remarks.” A 
 gentleman present, who set a high, and not unjust value on the Puritanic 
 school, lauded old Henry Bunting’s “Itinerarium Totius Sacrse Scripturse : ” 
 on this, the Doctor, who was not over fond of arithmetical minutiae in 
 every trivial circumstance, — laughiug at the minuteness of his observations, 
 said, “ What, you refer to that queer old writer, who measures the steps 
 of patriarchs, prophets, and apostles, and states how many miles of ground 
 they went over ! ” the mental, moral, and religious qualities of the Apostle, 
 being of greater importance than the measurement of his steps. The 
 following remarks will be deemed of value, as eliciting the Doctor’s views 
 on two or three points. 
 
 P. — “ Is there suflacient ground in any of the writings of St. Paul, for 
 the censure indulged in by St. Jerome, and others, of inelegance and 
 obscurity, and of the Apostle’s ignorance of the more elegant Greek ? ” 
 
 M . — “ Blackwall, (in his Vindication of the Sacred Classics,) Eisner, 
 Bos, PtapheliuG, and others, have not only illustrated with great beauty, 
 but defended with uncommon force, the writings of the Apostle against 
 such insinuations, preferred mostly by sceptics, or persons imperfectly 
 acquainted with the Greek language.” 
 
 * A section of this paper, 4to, ruled for text, notes, marginal references, &c., is 
 preserved by the biographer as a curiosity, among other relics belonging to the Com- 
 mentator — showiug a portion of the ground on which he planted so many rare 
 thought?. 
 
PART V. — SECTION II. 
 
 71 
 
 E, — “ Might not the scholarship of the Apostle be inferred from his 
 reference to different uninspired authors? Take, for instance, Acts xviii. 
 28; 1 Cor. xv. 33 ; Titus i. 12.” 
 
 P. — ‘‘These might possibly have been quotations, which, like passages 
 from Shakespeare, Milton, and others, had passed from mind to mind, 
 nnd become familiar to others than general readers.” 
 
 E, — ‘‘ Bishop Bull’s remark on, ‘ Bring with thee the books that I left 
 ut Troas,’ seems very natural, viz., that it is evident, that Paul read other 
 books than the Bible, and that, from his frequent use of Platonic phrases, 
 lie was well acquainted with the writings of their philosophers.” 
 
 Pr. (7. — “ His style, allusions, and quotations, go in support of the 
 fact, that he had read the best Greek writers; and he was evidently 
 master of the three great languages spoken among the only people who 
 deserved the name of nations, — languages, which, notwithstanding the 
 cultivation of society, have maintained their rank through successive ages, 
 thus proving their decisive superiority over all the languages of the world ; 
 I refer to the Hebrew, and its prevailing dialect, the Chaldaic- Syriac ; to 
 the Greek and the Latin. The city in which he was born, forms no ob- 
 jection to this opinion — Tarsus being not only the rival of Alexandria, 
 but of Rome and of Athens, in the arts and sciences : and one of the 
 very writers whose language he quotes — (Aratus,) was a Cicilian, a 
 countryman of his own. The words, ruv yaQ Kai ye.vog ec^iiev, We are also 
 his offspring^ are to be found literatim in the Phoenomena of Aratus ; and 
 although the sentiment is to be met with in the Hymn of Cleanthes,* yet, 
 as Aratus flourished about 300 years before the Apostle, and Cleanthes 
 240, it is not unlikely that the latter borrowed from the former ; the 
 Apostle in all likelihood, being perfectly acquainted with both : his range 
 of reading being implied in the expression — ‘ your own poets,'' referring 
 not to poets exclusively born at Athens, but to Grecian poets, generally, 
 Aratus and Cleanthes being among the most popular. The Apostle’s 
 natural powers were not only extraordinary, but his education, as we 
 learn both from his historian and his writings, was at once liberal and 
 profound.” 
 
 M , — “ May not something of his character for universal knowledge 
 be also inferred from the remark of Festus to him, on his speech before 
 Agrippa, ‘ Much learning (iroWa ypafijxaTa^ reading of many books) hath 
 made thee mad ? ’ ” 
 
 E. — ‘-That, taken in connection with what the Doctor has" stated, 
 respecting his animated address to the Athenians, in which he showed 
 that he was no stranger to their poets, is sufficiently decisive — that he not 
 
 * This Hjmn was translated into English verse, by Gilbert West, in his Odes of 
 Pindar, &c. A critic has remarked, in reference to this Hymn, that an intelligent 
 reader may be surprised to find Such just sentiments of duty in a heathen, and so 
 much poetry in a philosopher.’* 
 
72 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 only had the credit of being a general reader, but incidentally maintained 
 what others directly awarded to him. Nor is it too much to say, (for his 
 mental character would lead to it, being more metaphysical than poetical,) 
 that he was acquainted not only with the poets, but with the writings of 
 the philosophers and historians both of Greece and Rome, which neces- 
 sarily familiarised him with the principles and customs, the laws and 
 manners, of distant ages and nations, as well as with the distinguished 
 characters and public transactions in each. To which of the Greek 
 writers are we to give the credit of ‘ Evil communications corrupt good 
 manners ? ’ ” 
 
 Dr. C. — “ There are many of them, as ^schylus and Diodorus Siculus, 
 in whose writings not only the sentiment, but nearly the same words are 
 found ; and there is a proverb among the Rabbins which bears a strong 
 resemblance to it ; but the general opinion is, that it was taken from the 
 comedy of ‘Thais,’ by Menander,* which is lost : on examination it will 
 be found to make a perfect lambic verse.” 
 
 M. — “ Are we correct in attributing to Epimenides the Apostle’s- 
 quotation in his epistle to Titus — ‘ One of themselves, even a prophet of 
 their own, said, The Cretans are always liars, evil beasts, slow bellies? ’ ” 
 Dr, C. — “ The writings themselves cannot now be appealed to for the 
 fact, because not extant ; but on the testimony of St. Jerome, Socrates, 
 Nicephorus, and others, the words are taken from a work of Epimenides 
 on ‘ Oracles,’ and they evidently form an hexameter verse.” 
 
 F . — “ How comes it, that the Apostle, an inspired man, gives to this 
 heathen the honour of a prophet ? ” 
 
 Dr. C . — “ Several prophecies are attributed to him by Diogenes 
 Laertius, Plato, and others ,* the latter designating him a divine man 
 (avrip Ocloq) ; while Cicero gave him the credit of foretelling future 
 events. The Cretans, for a period of between five and six hundred years 
 before the Apostle wrote, had deemed him a prophet ; and as such,, 
 on his death, according to Plutarch, rendered him divine honours. The 
 Apostle, therefore, only intimates that he was reputed such by the 
 Cretans. It may be added, that rates and jpoeia, were synonymous 
 among the Romans— j)7Vj?/iet and poet.” 
 
 E . — “ To return to the objection with which the remarks started ; 
 friend P., who, as aU are aware, is no unbeliever, wdll find few object to 
 the sentiment of a gentleman in high repute in the republic of letters, — 
 that, ‘ The Apostle Paul’s wisdom did not seek after the beauties of lan- 
 guage, but the beauties of language offered themselves, and attended on 
 his wisdom.’ ” 
 
 M . — “ If liis preaching bore any resemblance to his writings, he must, 
 
 Menander drowned himself 293 years before the incarnation of our Lord. Some 
 of his fragments have been published in English by Joseph Wharton, Francis HawkeS;> 
 and George Colman j the latter in his Translations of the Comedies of Terence. 
 
PART V. — SECTION III. 
 
 7S 
 
 agreeably to the sentiments of those who have paid the closest attention 
 to the subject, and are most capable of forming an estimate of his general 
 strain, have been unusually serious, solid, argumentative, tender, pathetic,, 
 experimental, spiritual, and heavenly — evangelically practical, and prac- 
 tically evangehcal.” 
 
 Some remarks were then made on the real ability of several of the 
 ancients, as exemplified in their writings, and the great difference, 
 between an enlightened and an unenlightened author, with the advan- 
 tage of the one over the other ; the Doctor closing with, — In some 
 of the old writers, we have a spark of life in a continent of mud:’’ 
 particularising the Venerable Bede, who was the first man in England 
 to translate a part of the Bible into our language — then Saxon, but who 
 was, certainly, more remarkable for piety than for intellect, as, ‘‘ a 
 weak-minded man, — believing down every absurdity, and so resembling 
 a river emptying itself into the sea.” 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 1814. 
 
 In the spring of 1814, the Doctor, in consequence of several spasmodic 
 attacks induced by intense labour, felt his health more seriously injured 
 than usual, and was anxious to diminish, if possible, the amount of work 
 which pressed upon him ; but instead of that, he had forwarded to his 
 residence several chests of manuscripts, by Miss Sharp, granddaughter of 
 the primate of that name, and niece of the excellent Granville Sharp,, 
 comprising collections belonging to the Archbishop himself, to Bishop 
 Chandler, and to Dr. Mangey, containing notes and criticisms on 
 antiquities, languages, and the works of the Greek writers. Through 
 these he waded with invincible patience and perseverance; and after 
 arranging them, and setting aside collections for the British Museum, 
 the libraries belonging to the dioceses of Durham, York, &c., he found 
 himself amply repaid by meeting with some papers which threw con- 
 siderable light on the “Wesley Family;” and of which he afterwards 
 availed himself. The death of Dr. Coke, too, which gave an impetus 
 to missionary enterprise and feeling, and became a powerful argument 
 in favour of public meetings, necessarily brought with it an accession of 
 toil. 
 
 At the Conference of this year, held in Bristol, he was elected 
 President for the second time ; its sittings were distinguished, in addi- 
 tion to ordinary business, by a vote of thanks to “ the Preachers of the 
 
74 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 Leeds, Halifax, York, Sheffield, Cornwall, and Newcastle Districts, who 
 had been concerned in the formation of Methodist Missionary Societies,” 
 — together “with the members and friends of the said Societies;” 
 — a recommendation of “the plan of Classical Education, originally 
 drawn up by Mr. Wesley, for the use of Kingswood School,” and to 
 be forthwith “ revived and adopted ; ” — and an “ Address to His Royal 
 Highness the Prince Regent,” expressive of loyal affection to the person, 
 family, and Government of the Sovereign, gratitude for religious privi- 
 leges, and for “ the restoration of peace to the nations of Europe,” 
 closing with an “ entreaty that his Royal Highness would be pleased 
 to use his utmost endeavours to prevent the threatened revival of the 
 African Slave Trade,” as well as “secure the immediate and universal 
 abolition of that most inhuman and unchristian traffic.” 
 
 On the subject of the proposed address to the Prince Regent, Dr. 
 Clarke’s opinion was at variance with that of the Conference ; he had 
 ^iven it his best consideration, and the result was, that he deemed it 
 would not be proper. 
 
 1st. Because the Methodists had not been reduced to the necessity of 
 carrying their complaints to the throne : consequently, the Prince had 
 not been petitioned in reference to any measures of relief. • 
 
 2nd. As the Prince took no part at all in the business, (nor was it 
 necessary he should do so,) and gave the royal assent to the bill in 
 question, just as he did to others, (for there was no marked peculiarity 
 in his assenting in the present one), it did not appear to him that an 
 address of thanks was at all called for ; and as the Doctor was ever most 
 sensitive upon the point of the Methodists putting themselves pro- 
 minently forward, and courting the attention of Government, or inviting 
 the eye of the country, so he felt, that silence on the occasion was the 
 most proper course : he was of opinion, also, that the act was not so 
 much an indulgence^ as a fair and honest desert ; for, in conversing with 
 a friend, he observed, “ we have been, are now, and I trust shall be, 
 for ever liege subjects, conscientiously attached to our king and country, 
 and consequently having a right to claim the protection of the laws ; 
 a protection which, in many cases, has been shamelessly withheld from 
 us, not only by Government, but by the sub-executors of the law;” 
 and with this view of the subject before him, he felt that the Metho- 
 dists had no more than their right ; indeed, that in strict justice, there 
 were arrears not yet paid off. 
 
 On another point, also, he felt delicately ; and with fine tact, his 
 mind distiuguished between the pure Christian simplicity of acknowdedg- 
 ing God as the Giver of all good, and of bringing human instrumentality 
 too prominently on the foreground. He was thrillingly sensitive, also, in 
 reference to the 'person to whom the proposed address was to be pre- 
 sented. “Had our beloved sovereign the reins of government in his 
 
PART V. — SECTION III. 
 
 75 
 
 own hand,” he observed to the above-mentioned friend, “ I should 
 feel very differently ; I might then wish to seize the present as an oppor- 
 tunity of telling him, how much we revered and loved him, and how 
 amply he had redeemed the pledge he gave to his people on his accession 
 to the throne ; and how, in consequence, he had conciliated the affections 
 of all his subjects ; and how he had recommended and illustrated, by his 
 own example, the whole code of political, moral, and domestic duties;” 
 but the person in this case, he felt, rendered the address from the Con- 
 ference, as the Wesleyan organ, improper; and the majority of our 
 readers will, no doubt, be of the Doctor’s opinion. 
 
 In connection with this Conference a subject may be referred to, 
 which, though in the estimation of some it may appear of trivial import- 
 ance, proves the Doctor’s abiding hostility to what he deemed pernicious ; 
 and which, while it shows his inflexible adherence to rule, contains a fine 
 moral : it is alluded to the more readily, as the person who underwent the 
 examination in reference to it, has ceased to live among men. 
 
 The candidates for free admission into the ministry, among the Wes- 
 leyan s, are ranged before the President, and examined on various points 
 of doctrine and discipline. Among other matters it is required of them 
 that they should not indulge in the use of tobacco, in any form whatever. 
 Among the young men now claiming for admission, was one whom 
 the Doctor knew to be an immoderate smoker, and whom, as he enter- 
 tained a high opinion of him, he was resolved, if possible, to rescue from 
 the pernicious and objectionable habit. The question was proposed — 
 
 Dr, Clarhe, — ‘‘Do you use tobacco in any form, brother?” 
 
 Candidate, — “ A little. Sir.” 
 
 Dr. C. — “ You must give it up.” 
 
 Cand. — “ I use it for the sake of health. Sir.” 
 
 Dr. C. — “ Our rule is against it, and I cannot admit you, unless you 
 will give it up.” 
 
 Cand. — “ Well, Sir, I will try to give it up.” 
 
 Dr. C. — “ An attempt will do nothing, unless persevered in.” 
 
 Cand. — “ I think it hard. Sir, where health requires it.” 
 
 Dr. C. — “ Our rule knows no exceptions ; and I would not, in the 
 situation in which I am placed, admit my own father — no not an angel 
 from heaven, without the pledge of total abandonment. You can take 
 time to consider it ; do nothing rashly ; if, after you have thought upon 
 it a day or two, or another year, you think you can conscientiously give 
 the pledge, you can then be received.” 
 
 Here the candidate began to consider it a serious affair, as he was not 
 prepared to resign his place in the body, or to be put back on trial. 
 
 Cand. — “ Well, Sir, I feel inclined to relinquish it.” 
 
 Dr. C. — “ Do you solemnly promise it?” 
 
 Cand. — “I do. Sir.” 
 
76 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 Dr, C . — “ Express yourself clearly, brother. — Am I to understand 
 that you will bind yourself to give it up now — only for a short period, and 
 be at liberty to resume it ? There is no mental reservation, is there ? ’’ 
 Cand. — ‘‘ I cannot say, Sir, what circumstances of health, &c., might 
 occur to call for it ; but I intend it at present.” 
 
 Dr. C , — “ On these terms, I will not receive you. You can make the 
 experiment for twelve months ; and then, if you think you can subscribe 
 to the requirement, you can come forward for full admission into the 
 work.” 
 
 Cand. — Pausing — somewhat chagrined — and perceiving the case to 
 deepen in serious effect, — “ Well, then, Sir, I solemnly promise to give 
 it up.” 
 
 Dr. C. — For ever ? ” 
 
 Cand. — “Yes, by the help of God, not to resume it.”'^ 
 
 Adverting to the subject some time after this, the Doctor remarked, 
 “ How brother could relapse immediately into the habit of smok- 
 
 ing, is a subject I do not like to dwell upon. I examined him con- 
 
 * A more smart and humorous examination than this took place at a subsequent 
 period, at City Road. 
 
 Dr. Clarke. — “ Do you take tobacco in any form, brother ? ” 
 
 1st Candidate. — “ Yes, Sir, I take a pipe now and then.” 
 
 Dr. C. — “ Give it up.” 
 
 1st Cand. — “ I should be very glad to give it up, Sir, but my medical man recom- 
 mended it to me.” 
 
 Dr. C. — Playfully — “ Give my love to him, and tell him he is a dirty fellow.” 
 ls^ Cand. — ” When I take a pipe, it always costs me a day’s illness.” 
 
 Dr. C. — ” If you have the punishment with the sin, and a medical gentleman recommends 
 it, you will have to go on a little longer.” To another ; — 
 
 Dr. C. — “Do you take tobacco in any form, brother ? ” 
 
 2nd Cand. — (Somewhat pertly) “I take a little snuff, Sir.” 
 
 Dr. C. — ” Give it up.” 
 
 2nd Cand.—*'" I will give it up. Sir, if the Conference require me.” 
 
 Dr. C. — ” I am the Conference, Sir, while I am seated here, and I order you to give it 
 up.” 
 
 2nd Cand. — A good deal toned down by the Doctor’s authoritative air, and handing 
 out a small box, about the size of the first joint of his thumb — “ That serves me some 
 months. Sir.” 
 
 Dr. C. — ” Hand it this way ; as it is so small, it can be no great cross to give it up.” 
 The Doctor met with a more hazardous subject, in the case of a preacher who had 
 long been in the itinerant work. The late Mr. D. Isaac was lodging at the same house 
 with him one Conference, and after dinner, stepped into the garden to enjoy his pipe. 
 The Doctor followed shortly after, and having been seen by Mr. Isaac through the 
 opening leaves, the latter popped the pipe into the centre of a thick gooseberry bush. 
 But the fumes of the tobacco prevailed over the fragrance of the sweetest of Flora’s 
 children ; and the Doctor coming up to Mr. Isaac, who appeared to be demurely gazing 
 on the beauties of nature, jocosely said, ” What, you are ashamed of your idol ? ” “No, 
 Sir,” returned Daniel, who was resolved to brave it out, and at once disarm his 
 assailant, “ I have only hid it to avoid giving offence to a weak brother ; ” leaving the 
 Doctor the choice of applying the remark either to himself, or another gentleman at no 
 great distance. This was said so much in keeping with the native character of Mr. 
 Isaac, that the Doctor could not refrain from smiling at the wit and presence of mind 
 displayed ; both of which placed, for the moment, the extinguisher on the pipe. 
 
PART V. — SECTION III. 
 
 77 
 
 scientiously, as in the presence of God, and would not pass him without a 
 solemn promise, which he gave, — I fully believe, in the fear of God ; and 
 yet, he is again a slave to it, — can sit up till 12 o’clock at night, or later, 
 
 Avith Mr. of , and next day regret that time was so short, 
 
 and wish for another night’s enjoyment of his ‘ rich conversation.^ ” A 
 friend remarked, — “ For a man to make the solemn pledge, he did, and 
 deliberately to break it, was to lie before God.” “ Why no,” returned 
 the Doctor, “perhaps not. Some of the candidates who have given the 
 most solemn promise to relinquish smoking, have afterwards experienced 
 inconvenience, and unpleasant sensations arising from the absence of the 
 accustomed stimulus, &c. ; have worked themselves into a persuasion that 
 the thing was necessary to health, and assisted their studies ; and that 
 though man had wished them to give it up, yet God did not require it — 
 that they had even done wrong in making the promise, by removing 
 from themselves a provision in nature which God had supplied for their 
 benefit, — and that they were absolutely injuring themselves by yielding 
 to the restriction. All this, I say, is possible, and I thus endeavour to go 
 with them: but what I object to is this — the Conference refuses to 
 admit a man, (referring to another case,) because he cannot conscien- 
 tiously subscribe to the notions of a few individuals on a point of 
 theology, which a Christian man may either believe, or not, without 
 injury to his faith, piety, or usefulness, and which was never till now 
 urged as a test of candidateship for the ministry ; and yet will compel 
 persons to subscribe to a rule on smoking and snufl&ng, and allow them to 
 violate it without rebuke or monition. When latitude is given, in cases 
 which seem to involve principle and conscience, and the most stringent 
 impositions are observed in others which seem to involve neither, we 
 may then take up the language of an old Scotch minister and ex- 
 claim, — ‘ I hae seen an end o’ all perfakshun.’ ” The Doctor loved 
 consistency. 
 
 The questions proposed in the foregoing examination, are still sub- 
 mitted to candidates for the ministry among the Wesleyan body. It is 
 not the writer’s purpose to enter into the merits of the case here, as bear- 
 ing upon the physical and mental health of the individual ; but few 
 persons would entertain a doubt as to the expediency of an attempt, on 
 the part of the Conference, to abolish the practice of smoking in the case 
 of those who are to hold the office, and sustain the responsibilities of 
 ministers in the church ; the habit, generally speaking, is a mere indul- 
 gence, and the inconvenience resulting from its abandonment would con- 
 sist more in the difficulty of self-denial, than in any injury to the health 
 or spirits ; the arguments used against it, if they have any force at all, 
 apply with peculiar emphasis to Christian ministers : time with them is 
 precious ; and although midnight lucubrations are not to be commended, 
 oven on the plea of redeeming time, yet to devote the hours of evening to 
 
78 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 the pipe, and to be shrouded and obfuscated in fumes of tobacco, while 
 the books lie dimly seen in the dreamiuess of the sublimed, or nearly un- 
 conscious, student, is indeed an evil, least to be tolerated in expounders of 
 the oracles of God ! But while the duty of those who have the solemn 
 and important responsibility of laying down requirements for admission 
 to the Christian ministry, is on this point clearly ascertained, it would 
 surely be well, precisely to define the nature of the pledge to be taken, 
 and to be especially careful that those who have the authority to propose 
 it, give no opportunity, in their own conduct, for supposing that the test 
 is merely formal; and that while it bears upon the practice of the 
 individual under examination, has no particular reference to his duty 
 after examination : many a good rule has fallen into desuetude through 
 this very cause ; for, if the legislator be not scrupulous as to the prac- 
 tice of his own laws, neither can he, with any show of justice complain, 
 if they meet little respect from those for whose behoof they were framed. 
 If Conference be itself enveloped in the perfumes of the narcotic weed, 
 how can it expect to irradiate the minds of candidates on the necessity of 
 abstinence from the indulgence of the pipe ? and if, as it now and then 
 befalls a reverend questioner on the subject of snuff -taking^ he apply the 
 pulverised weed to his nose, while he proposes the test from his lips, how^ 
 can it be expected that the answer will contain no mental reservation, 
 regarding in its issues the practice of the unconscious examiner ? Con- 
 sistency on this point is a great desideratum in the body of Wesleyan 
 ministers ; and should any feel inclined to blame the conduct of the 
 young candidate, above referred to, who violated the promise made, 
 touching his determination to relinquish smoking, let him call to mind 
 the searching rebuke of our Lord, to the accusers of the erring woman 
 in the Gospel : — “ He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a 
 stone.”* 
 
 Toward the close of the year, the first public Missionary Meeting was 
 held among the Wesleyans in the metropolis, in accordance with similar 
 ones which had been convened at Leeds, York, Hull, Halifax, Sheffield, 
 Newcastle-upon-Tyne, &c., in order to raise supplies for the support of 
 the Missionary cause. On this occasion Dr. Clarke took the chair, and 
 delivered an appropriate address, which, at the request of the meeting, 
 was published in a separate form ; and afterwards in his “ Miscellaneous 
 Works,” vol. xiii., p. 19 — 39. The article is entitled, “ A Short Account 
 of the Introduction of the Gospel into the British Isles ; and the obliga- 
 tions of Britons to make known its salvation to every region of the earth ; 
 in an address delivered in the Chapel, City Road, London, on Thursday 
 
 * Not only many of the preachers, all of whom have passed through the ordeal, have 
 returned to the pipe, and become inveterate smokers, but even the Presidents are not 
 unfrequently found among non-abstainers ; — say, John Gaulter with his jotpc and Jabez 
 Bunting with his the latter, aiter 'his pledge, refusing to deny himself in Com- 
 
 mittees of Examination. 
 
PART V. — SEOTIOX III. 
 
 79 
 
 evening, December 1, 1814, at the formation of a Missionary Society^ 
 among the people called Methodists, in that City : ” with this motto,, 
 “ Many shall run to and fro, and knowledge shall be increased,’’ Dan. 
 xii. 4. The whole shows extensive reading, and a thorough knowledge of 
 the subject proposed.* About the same time he finished a paper on “The 
 Spread of Biblical Knowledge,” and sent it to the “Editor of the 
 Methodist Magazine^'^ published it also in the same volume of his “ Mis- 
 cellaneous Works,” and which pairs admirably with the “Address.” It 
 opens with, “ The British and Foreign Bible Society have realised, in re- 
 ference to the habitable globe, in a moral sense, what Archimedes vainly 
 wished in a physical sense : Aoe wou orw, he said, teat rov Koagov KLVfjcno^ 
 ‘ Give me a place to stand on, and I shall move the world.’ Following 
 the mechanical ideas of this great mathematician, I am authorised to state^ 
 that the providence of God has become a station, on which the vast lever 
 of the British and Foreign Bible Society has been erected, and worked by 
 a few individuals. They have been enabled, by the good hand of God 
 upon them, to move the whole habitable globe. We, who live in this 
 favoured day, have seen this institution, as the angel in the apocalypse^ 
 ‘ flying in the midst of heaven, having the everlasting gospel to preach 
 unto them that dwell upon the earth, and to every nation, and kindred, 
 and tongue, and people.’ Our forefathers longed to see this day ; they 
 did anticipate the glorious era, for God himself had foretold it ; and their 
 hearts rejoiced in the lapse of ages that were bringing forward those 
 auspicious times, and the talia soecla currite I ‘ Roll onward, ye glorious 
 times ! ’ was modified into ten thousand prayers. It is enough ; God has 
 given the commandment ; and the nations of the earth have opened their 
 hearts to receive the word of life.’' Another article followed, with an 
 amount of condensed information, rarely to be met with in the same com- 
 pass, entitled, “ The Necessity and Existence of Missions, proved from 
 Prophecy, Precept, and Testimony ; together with an Historical Account 
 of the earliest and Chief Missions employed by God and Man to establish 
 them : ”f published also, in the volume with the above. He never lost 
 the feeling of early days, when he preached from house to house, with the 
 Hymn-book as the ground- work of his evangelical lispings, as though, at 
 that time, the Bible was too profound a text-book for one so young : 
 
 * The biographer possesses the copy with the Doctor’s last corrections, dated “May 
 6, 1821,” which, for the gratification of the reader, may be stated to be that of which the 
 piece in his “Miscellaneous Works,” is a correct copy. 
 
 t This piece was entitled by the Doctor, in the MS., but afterwards altered by the 
 Rev. J. B. B. C., “ Means used by God and Man to Spread the Knowledge of the Gospel, 
 of Christ throughout the Earth.” In the “ Remarks,” towards the close, the Doctor 
 had a particular, which stood in the order of “3d.” to which was appended, “Then 
 Human Learning was resorted to as a substitute for this unction : but there were no con- 
 versions under this ministry.” This was crossed out by the same pen which had altered 
 the other, but was restored by the Editor of the Doctor’s “ Miscellaneous Works,” as a 
 subject not to be blinked. 
 
80 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 his whole soul was imbued with the missionary spirit, and steeped in 
 the sublimities of heaven — ever panting after the salvation of the 
 world ! 
 
 Wherever help was needed, and he had the power and opportunity to 
 impart it. Dr. Clarke waited not for an invitation ; but modestly and 
 prudently stepped forward, — the same in reference to the individual, as 
 to the mass. Hearing one day of the illness of an aged disciple of Christ, 
 and other duties preventing the possibility of a visit, he immediately 
 addressed a sympathising note to him : “It was not with a small degree 
 of concern that I heard this morning, by Mr. Myles, that you were very 
 ill, and not likely to recover. I should have been glad to have seen you, 
 but fearing that you might be called to glory, before I could reach your 
 house, I choose, by this paper, to talk a little with you, to tell you that I 
 love you ; and to tell you, what I trust you gloriously feel, that God 
 loves you. He has long continued you an useful member of his Church ; 
 and has put honour upon you by employing you in his work. If he be 
 now determined to remove you from your labour^ it must be to your 
 eternal rest. I do not wish you to look at anything you have done or 
 suffered for God, as any recommendation to his favour : much less, as the 
 ^rice of his glory : you have been better taught. You know that you 
 have redemption only through his blood ; and that whatever you have 
 done and suffered in his cause, it has only been through his own grace 
 strengthening you : for without him you could do nothing. But as being 
 a child of God, by faith in Christ Jesus, you have a right to look for an 
 inheritance among the saints in light: for if sons, then heirs. Claim 
 every promise of God as your own ; fear not your adversary ; Jesus will 
 bruise him under your feet ; he knows that you are feeble, but he has not 
 brought the poor Israelite so far through the wilderness, to leave him now 
 to perish in the desert.” 
 
 Heavily taxed as was his time in the metropolis, and little as he had 
 to spare for occasional sermons, yet such was the importunity of the 
 people in different parts of the Connexion, that he was obliged to yield 
 himself up to their entreaties, and take upon himself the extra labour of 
 opening chapels, &c. One occasion, about this time, is still vivid in the 
 writer’s recollection — the opening of the Holbeck Chapel, Leeds. The 
 Doctor’s text was, 2 Peter i. 4, &c. Several ministers of different 
 denominations were present ; among whom, as men of distinguished 
 eminence, may be noticed the Revs. James Parsons, of York, and R. W. 
 (now Doctor) Hamilton, of Leeds. Adverting to the term “ lust,''^ 
 Dr, Clarke remarked, that at the time of the translation of the 
 regularly authorised version of the Scriptures, it was employed in a less 
 offensive sense than at present — simply signifying desire.^ and supported 
 the rendering by a quotation from Spenser’s “ Shepherd’s Calendar,” for 
 July, in the Eclogue of Thomalin and Morrel : 
 
PAET V. — SECTION III. 
 
 81 
 
 “ If th.ee lust to holden chat 
 
 With seely shepherd’s swain, 
 
 Come down, and hear the little what — 
 
 That Thomalin would sain.”* 
 
 Id the course of his sermon, he took an opportunity of delivering a some- 
 what severe philippic against the heartless, unsubstantial, tinselled, flimsy 
 discourses, prevalent in some quarters ; and which were ill- calculated 
 either to instruct or impress the hearts of an auditory, — designating the 
 method described as a kind of “ namhy 'pam'by mode of preaching.” 
 While at dinner, at Mr. Ripley's, the celebrated William Dawson, being 
 one of the party, said, in his usual pleasant way, directing his conversa- 
 tion to the Doctor, “ There was one form of expression in your sermon. 
 Dr. Clarke, which I should like to hear more fully explained, — it was 
 ‘ namby pamby : ’ what are we to understand by ‘ namby pamby preach- 
 ing ? ’ ” The Doctor, who was seated before some whipped cream, which 
 rose in a pyramidal form, crowned with comfits of different colours, took 
 up a knife, and dexterously sweeping it through the middle, without in 
 the least disfiguring the article, said, on laying down the knife, — “ That 
 is what I mean by namby pamby preaching : it makes no impression : ” 
 subjoining with pleasantry, “ Do not be alarmed ; it is perfectly classical, 
 — it is a term employed by Dean Swift! The preaching to which I 
 referred, bears the same relation to that which I should like to see every- 
 where established, as the whipped cream bears to the roast beef at the 
 head of the table. The Doctor knew to whom he was addressing him- 
 self ; and this was jast adapted to the taste and genius of Dawson. 
 
 It was near the same time, too, that he opened the Wesleyan Chapel 
 at Bingley ; on which occasion he was generously and respectfully enter- 
 tained at the residence of General Sir J ohn Byng. 
 
 The case was rare, in these excursions, in which he would allow any 
 one, above the capacity of a servant, to act the part of a porter by carry- 
 ing his luggage, when he could conveniently take it himself. Mr. Filter, 
 on one occasion, requested to be allowed to carry a bag for him ; no, re- 
 turned the Doctor, “ Let every horse carry its own harness.” 
 
 He met, in his travels, with Henry Taylor, of North Shields, formerly 
 a local preacher in the Wesleyan Connexion; but then one of the 
 Society of Friends, and a person of great respectability. They were both 
 in the coach, but not personally known to each other. Conversation was 
 free and varied, though chiefly religious. Turning upon Methodism, Mr. 
 Taylor observed, “Of all the preachers, in John Wesley’s society, I would 
 like to see and converse with Adam Clarke.” The Doctor, afraid lest the 
 good man should in some way commit himself, and so occasion unpleasant 
 feeling, immediately observed, “ You need not go far to see him, as you 
 have the man before you.” Seldom as it is that the Friends betray any- 
 
 * The Sermon was afterwards published in 1830; see Sermons, vol. iii., p. 12, 8vo. 
 
 VOL, II. G 
 
82 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 tiling like emotion, Mr. Taylor evinced no ordinary feeling of pleasure ; 
 and something of the spirit of brotherhood was felt and cherished on both 
 sides. 
 
 The unexampled success which attended the appeals made by Dr. 
 Clarke, to the benevolence of the public, occasioned, of course, frequent 
 solicitations for such valuable services : but the largest benevolence may 
 sometimes be overtaxed ; and he became at length completely uneasy of 
 a description of service to which, at the best, he had always felt a strong 
 aversion ; and which nothing but a still stronger sense of duty could have 
 induced him to perform. Conversing with a friend on the subject, he 
 said, — I am never backward to take my due proportion of labour in any 
 'Charitable collection among us ; but I do not like to be the packhorse of 
 every charity. Last Sabbath they saddled me with a charity sermon, at 
 City Eoad, for a work for which I had preached a little before at Spital- 
 helds ; to-morrow I must go out of my place to preach for the Sunday- 
 schools at Southwark : wherever I go they^ire sure to have a collection; 
 so that my friends, or the strangers who come to hear me, are constantly 
 tahen in ; this has now become nearly intolerable. I have been persuaded 
 for the last twenty years, that none of our charities should be in debt : 
 God calls us to expend no more in this way than his providence puts into 
 our hands. What do we think of an individual who runs into debt, in 
 order to give to the poor ? Why, that he is either a had man, or a mad 
 man. We should have done with this work ; it can be no more innocent 
 in a society than in an individual.” 
 
 In some cases he was not a little annoyed with the selections of 
 hymns for Sunday School Anniversaries. When requested to preach on 
 one of these occasions in Lancashire,^' he had the pieces put into his hand, 
 which were to be sung ; one of which contained a versification of the 
 99th verse of the cxix. Psalm — “I have more understanding than all my 
 teachers; ” which was headed with, ‘‘To be sung by the children.” He 
 very properly reprehended the teachers for putting such language into the 
 ]nouths of the children, and would not allow it to be sung ; stating, that 
 liowever suitable the words might be for David, they were unfit for them ; 
 and that what was fit for wisdom, age, and experience, was often out of 
 place with childhood. There were certain prejudices and prepossessions, 
 too, which he could not surmount. He refused pressing and repeated 
 invitations to preach in another town in Lancashire, assigning as a reason, 
 the circumstance of the Wesleyans having sold an old chapel for a theatre, 
 which was to be replaced by a new one. Without entering into the 
 merits of the case, the bare act itself is rather revolting to the puritanic 
 character of Wesleyanism. 
 
 Of all the sermons preached in the Wesleyan body, of an occasional 
 character, trial sermons, so called, were the most repulsive to his feelings. 
 
 * Bridgewater Street, Mancliester. 
 
PART V. — SECTION III. 
 
 83 
 
 A young man, who had belonged to another religious community, having 
 been appointed to preach one of these sermons before a district com- 
 mittee, the Doctor observed to one of the Irish brethren, ‘‘ You are too 
 much like Noah’s ark, in this instance ; taking in both clean and unclean : 
 I would not have admitted one of these runners^ either on this, or the 
 other side of the water. As for trial sermons, I hate them ; they are no 
 proper criterion by which to judge of a man’s fitness or unfitness for the 
 work. Mr. Wesley never observed anything of the kind, except occa- 
 sionally, when a man was accidentally, or otherwise, thrown near London, 
 when he himself was there. He simply questioned those who knew him, 
 and in whose judgment he could confide, respecting the man’s piety, 
 talents, and usefulness ; and if satisfied, sent him to a circuit. There 
 was one man, who thought he had a call to preach, and whom Mr. Wesley 
 heard : on the latter leaving the chapel, he was asked by Mr. Pawson 
 what he thought of him as a preacher, when he briefly replied, ‘ He aims 
 at nothing.’ Had Mr. Wesley seen any object that the man had out of 
 him on the people, and anything in him, however awkwardly delivered, 
 but which, in the course of time, was likely to be useful, he would have 
 borne with him, and engaged him in the work of the ministry. Dr. 
 Coke, in his zeal, was too lax in taking young men out into the mis- 
 sionary field ; and when objections were made to the objects of his choice, 
 he would have literally shouted out in the Conference, and charged the 
 brethren with suppressing the spirit of prophecy, when some of them, in 
 fact, had not a prophecy for the people.” A young person present, with 
 some flippancy, accompanied by a touch of contempt, and an air of supe- 
 riority, inquired of the Doctor to what hatch the preacher belonged who 
 was appointed to preach before the district committee ; when, to check 
 such pertness, he asked in return, ‘‘ Do you know what a ‘ batch ’ is? ” 
 On perceiving something like hesitancy, he proceeded ; “I will tell you : 
 it is dispatch of cloth sewed upon another piece — and denotes to mend,’'’* 
 The last word was delivered with its appropriate and emphatic meaning. 
 The Rev. D. M‘Nicol, who had been at the place a little before, was 
 eulogised as a preacher. When David came first to me,” said the 
 Doctor, he committed all his sermons to memory, and read them out of 
 his heart to the people ; but I told him he must be broken of that : and 
 on giving up his memoriter sermons, he became a much better and 
 more effective preacher.” 
 
 On the subject of memory, he remarked : The more I consider the 
 
 faculty, the more I am inclined to fall in with the system of Father Mal- 
 branche ; — that in early life, an idea passes over the mind, and leaves its 
 trace upon the brain — just like a snail, (by way of illustration,) passing 
 over the ground, and leaving its trace — line after line, filling as they pro- 
 ceed, and becoming smaller, shorter, and fainter as age advances. I have 
 a . distinct recollection of what I was taught and conversant with in 
 
 g2 
 
84 
 
 ADAM CLAKKE. 
 
 youth ; but for some years back, though things have been accumulating, 
 tKeir impression is less strong and distinct. We must look to our schools,’’ 
 continued he, “ for churches ; good impressions received there seldom fail ; 
 for if the subjects of them go out of the way, they will continue to 
 follow them — even to the gallows.” A steady friend of Sunday-schools 
 being present — having waited upon the Doctor to request his aid, by 
 preaching and making a collection — availed himself of the last sentence to 
 hitch in a remark in favour of his plea for help, by relating the case of a 
 young lad, who, about that time, had been accessory to the murder of an 
 excellent man, a teacher in a Sunday-school, whom the biographer had, as 
 a hearer, a short time before the fatal catastrophe took place. The boy 
 had also been a scholar in one of the schools with which the gentleman 
 himself was connected ; he closed his narrative with a confirmation of the 
 Doctor’s remark on the permanency of early impressions, by stating the 
 fact, that he had visited the youth in the condemned cell, when his early 
 instructions came to his aid — -he became deeply penitent — and furnished 
 ground of hope that he had obtained mercy before he reached the place of 
 execution. Some uneasiness having been manifested in the school in 
 question, and the gentleman being about to enter upon the subject, with 
 a view to show the real state of the case, the Doctor observed, ‘‘ Do not 
 let me hear of anything bad, or I shall be unable to preach : I never like 
 to enter into long details about schools ; few preachers are able to manage 
 them, and, I believe, I am one of these ; they only set the people 
 reasoning, wdien they ought to be set a giving ; for the latter, a single 
 sentence is all that is necessary, comprised in about half-a-dozen lines. 
 The men and women v/ho teach in these schools, give, in the sacrifices 
 they make, much more than others do by their pounds ; for neither 
 themselves nor the children can come at their full quota of instruction, 
 under God, as they are not, in common with others, under the Gospel.’’ 
 Then, in reference to the state of the funds, to which allusion had been 
 made, he proceeded, in a stra,in similar to that which distinguished his 
 address to his friend, “ It is not right to go, (in expenditure,) beyond the 
 ii come of any school, in hope, that, through some incidental fit of charity, 
 people may be induced to give. We ought to trust to no one in this 
 way ; there is a common fund of benevolence, on which we may draw, 
 and we should never go beyond reasonable expectation. To run into 
 debt, in the expectation of some remarkable impulse, is a piece of impu- 
 dence and presumption : it is in effect putting God’s providence into debt^ 
 and we have no right to do this : God never does a work in any Church, 
 without providing the means of support ; and let us not go beyond.” 
 Though a little shy of public exhibitions, without which some men 
 find it difficult to live, yet he would have courted a little ordinary work, 
 rather than indulge the greater pain of idleness. Spending a few days 
 with a friend, at a distance, he observed, “I have no notion of eating the 
 
PART V. — SECTION III. 
 
 85 
 
 bread of idleness here, for a week together ; I should like to do something 
 for it in the neighbourhood : ” adding, “ if the preachers were to ask me, 
 I think I should have no objection to preach.” To this it was responded, 
 ‘^Publicity should be given to it.” “ No,” replied the Doctor; “ I will 
 have no publicity given to it ; I only wish to have the man’s congrega- 
 tion whose place it is to occupy the pulpit ; and then (turning to Mr. P., 
 who had just entered the room) I shall see how you are liked at home.” 
 
 Dr. Clarke was appointed to preach in City Road Chapel, Sunday, 
 January 22nd, 1815; and took for his subject, ‘‘The Christian Race.” 
 This, though exceedingly appropriate, was not selected for the occasion ; 
 but, as usual, came in the regular course of reading. The text was 
 1 Cor. ix. 24 — 27 ; and after elucidating and enforcing the most prominent 
 expressions employed by the Apostle, and the customs to which allusion 
 was made, he closed with one observation upon the whole, on the necessity 
 of earnestness in religion. “ Exercise,” said he, “ seems to be so necessary 
 to the life of man, that he cannot exist comfortably without it. In 
 coming along the streets this morning, and seeing the people running, I 
 said, Here is an useful lesson : if they do not run they must freeze ; and 
 we also shall freeze, brethren, if we do not continue to exercise ourselves 
 in faith and prayer. I cannot conceive how a man can preserve the con- 
 solations of God’s Spirit, unless he be active. If we do not run, we 
 freeze. When I see you careless, and not putting forth the strength God 
 has given, I inquire. Are you warm? are you healthy? have you a 
 vigorous appetite? And so it is in religion : do you enjoy the salvation 
 of God ? if not, it is because you are careless : you are not running to 
 keep yourselves warm. Jesus went about doing good, and the Spirit of 
 Jesus lives in those who go about doing good. I would give very little 
 for that religion which does not lead men to labour, in order to bring 
 glory to God, and good to their fellow-creatures. If we look to the con- 
 clusion, we shall see the necessity of exercising ourselves in this way : 
 ‘ Lest,’ says the Apostle, ‘ I should be a cast-away.’ ” 
 
 It was somewhere about this time, that he became acquainted with 
 Mr. Boyd, an excellent Greek scholar ; and translator of “ Select Pas- 
 sages of St. Chrysostom, St. Gregory Nazianzen, and St. Bazil,” — “Select 
 Poems of Synesius and Gregory Nazianzen,” — “The Agamemnon of 
 JEschylus,” &c. With this gentleman the Doctor had some correspon- 
 dence on the Greek Article : the views of the former may be seen in an 
 Essay, with its Postscript, at the close of the Doctor’s Commentary on 
 the Epistles to the Ephesians and to Titus. The divine^ as well as the 
 scholar, was taxed in the Doctor, and he wrote to Mr. Boyd, after this, 
 by way of settling a disputed point, on the Infinite Merit of Christ’s 
 Sacrifice. 
 
 The following letter from Dr. Clarke, to his confidential friend and 
 relative, Mr. Butterworth, will exhibit an important and interesting 
 
86 
 
 ADAM CLAKKE. 
 
 scene, as well as place Mr. Boj^d in an advantageous point of view before 
 the eye of at least the Wesleyan reader. 
 
 My very dear Brother, — Yesterday was an ordeal to me without 
 the slightest previous notice or intimation. When we began our District 
 Meeting, I found myself called upon to answer certain inquiries respect- 
 ing my soundness in the faith. Mr. , rose and stated the most 
 
 serious objections to my Commentary on the Epistle to the Bomans ; anfl 
 especially to the extract made from Dr. Taylor : he spake for about 
 half an hour, and was followed, on the same line, by nine others : they 
 all treated me, of course, with respect *, but augured the most awful con- 
 sequences from the work, entreated me to “call it in,” to “abolish it 
 from the copies still unsold, and to write another preface.” I said little, 
 save that I was fully satisfied that none of the objections they stated lay' 
 fairly against the extracts made, however they might lie against Dr.. 
 Taylor’s scheme in general ; that I was perfectly willing to give any 
 reasonable explanation, but, that they must have very shallow minds, 
 who, after having read in different parts, the strong and new explanation.-: 
 and demonstrations, which I had given of the doctrines of Christianity, 
 could accuse me of heterodoxy. They unanimously agreed that I was 
 sound in faith, in every respect ; but that Key ! that Key ! ! Upon the 
 whole, I perceived, that had the same things been written by myself, they 
 would have been all sound and fair ; but the name of Dr. Taylor , 
 
 against whom Mr. W , wrote, has blasted all. I know that this work 
 
 has done much good : nor did I hear it could ever be suspected of harm 
 until yesterday morning. Mr. Boyd, a thorough scholar, especially as a 
 Grecian, and a rigid disciple of Calvin, has been converted by reading 
 this very reprehensible thing ; I scarcely recollect a recent event whicl; 
 has afforded me more satisfaction, than his communication of this fact to 
 me. At different times Mr. Creighton has written to me on the subject. 
 of my comment on this epistle, and once said, — “ The extract made from. 
 Dr. Taylor, and the manner in which you have executed your task, in 
 reference to this epistle, excels all you have ever done in your life.” What 
 am I to do ? You may guess I am not a little pained.* 
 
 The following letter will be acceptable to the Biblical student, and to the classicul 
 reader ; it does equal credit to the learning and candour of the writer : — 
 
 My dear Mrs. Rowley, — Understanding that it is your intention to assist in pub, 
 lishing a life of your distinguished father, I have thought it would not be unacceptable 
 if I wrote to you respecting a passage in the Acts, on which he, of course, commented. 
 It is in the xiii. c. v. 48, — “ ./Vnd as many as were ordained to eternal life, believed.” 
 Your father considers this passage to imply, — that as many as were inclined, or disposed 
 to embrace the offer of eternal life, believed. When I was a young man, it appeared to 
 me, that this passage was certainly Calvinistic, and that in his zeal against Calvinism 
 he had gone too far ; and I think I mentioned my opinion about it to various persons. 
 It may be supposed that in the course of twenty -five years, I have acquired a little moiL* 
 critical knowledge, and more sound judgment j and I may also remark, that when a 
 
PART V. SECTION III. 
 
 87 
 
 He found it necessary to be more explicit in his views on the subject, 
 and to defend himself against the prejudices of some of his brethren. “In 
 my notes on the Epistle to the Homans,” he remarked, “ I have entered 
 at large into a discussion on the subjects to which I have referred in the 
 Epistle to the Galatians ; and to set the subject in a clear point of view, 
 
 young man, I did not critically study the Spriptures much. It is now my decided 
 opinion, that if I examine the passage critically, I cannot embrace the Calvinistic view. 
 My reason is this, — If the author *of the Acts had been speaking of God’s eternal pre- 
 destination, he would, undoubtedly, have used the Scripture phraseology : he would 
 have employed the word Trpocopicr/xei/oi, or at least TTpoTeray^evoi, but certainly not 
 TeraY/xevof. Can any one produce a passage, wherein an eternal predestination is evi- 
 dently spoken of ; and yet the verb racra-cj is employed ? The passage, if quite literally 
 translated, would stand thus, — “And they believed, as many as had been set in order, 
 or drawn up in battle array for life eternal.” The metaphor is taken from a body of 
 soldiers drawn up in order of battle. 
 
 Saint Chrysostom wrote, in the form of Homilies, large and luminous commentaries 
 on various parts of the Holy Scriptures ; and among them, on the Acts. As Greek was 
 his native language, and as his writings abundantly evince that he was a great and con- 
 summate master of that language, and also had a great knowledge of the Scriptures, 
 his interpretation of the words must surely be regarded with respect; I might say 
 with reverence. His comment is as follows : — Tout’ cctvlv, a<pmpi<rfjLevoc tw 0ew. EvrevOev 
 deiKvva-i, Kai to iJLeyeOo^ rm Trpoatpecrewy, Kai to raxo? — That is — set apart to 
 
 God. From hence he shows both the greatness of the predilection, or preference, and 
 the quickness of the benefit. 
 
 It is, I think, admitted by every scholar, that almost all of the Hew Testament was 
 written originally in Greek. Assuredly it is very strange that neither St. Chrysostom, 
 nor any other Greek father, ever stumbled on any of the Calvinistic tenets ; and it is 
 worthy of especial notice, that he who brought forward such tenets was not only a 
 Latin writer, but a Latin, who disliked the Greek language, and knew but little of it, 
 St. Augustine excogitated those doctrines, or at least doctrines similar to those, which 
 were afterwards devised by Calvin. 
 
 I have often regretted that, on more i)oints than one, unlearned men find their par- 
 ticular views more sanctioned in our translation of the Hew Testament than they are 
 by the original ; but let it be ever kept in mind, that with respect to Popery our version 
 is correct and sound. In every passage of import, and wherein our translation differs 
 from that of the Roman Catholic, ours is most decidedly correct. I speak as a scholar, 
 not as a theologian. I say that ours is most decidedly correct. In two different works, 
 I have commented on different parts of the Ehemish version, which are erroneously 
 translated, and on the falsehoods the notes contain. There is, however, one passage 
 on which I have not yet commented, and I am desirous of mentioning it here. In the 
 19th chap, of St. Matthew, v. 11, we read OuTrauxe? %ropoucri tov Xoyov tovtov. A truly 
 critical Greek scholar will see at once, that these words cannot possibly have any mean- 
 ing than one. All men are not capable of receiving ; they are not able to receive : our 
 translators, therefore, thus rendered them, — “ All men cannot receive this saying.” If 
 I were to say to a friend — how much does that pitcher liold ? I should mean — how 
 much is it capable of holding ? My friend would understand what I meant, and would 
 reply — it holds so much. If I spoke in Greek, I should use tlie verb x^P^w. If you 
 will refer to the 2nd chap, of St. John, v. 6, you will see a clear illustration of what I 
 have just said ; and that our version of the passage in St. Matthew is powerfully con- 
 firmed : in both places the same verb is used. As the Ehemish translation was made in 
 the very infancy of Greek learning, and long before Greek criticism was born, I think it 
 probable that the mis-translation was the result of mere ignorance ; but what can we 
 think of the men who, in this learned age, sanction and i)erpetuate the various errors 
 of the Ehemish version ? Is it possible that, in every instance, they can be profoundly 
 ignorant of the true menning of the original ? 
 
 I remain, yours very sincerely, — K. S. Boyd. 
 
88 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 I have made a copious extract from Dr. Taylor’s Key to that epistle ; 
 and I have stated, that a consistent exposition of that epistle cannot be 
 given but upon that plan. — I am still of the same opinion ; it is by 
 attending to the distinctions stated, which are most obvious to all unpre- 
 judiced persons, that we plainly see that the doctrines of eternal^ uncon- 
 ditional, reprohaiion and election, and the impossibility of falling finally 
 from the grace of God, have no foundation in the Epistle to the Komans. 
 Dr. Taylor has shown that the phrases and expressions, on which 
 these doctrines are founded, refer to national privileges, and those exclu- 
 sive advantages which the Jews, as God’s peculiar people, enjoyed, 
 during the time in which that peculiarity was designed to last ; 
 and that it is doing violence to the sense, in which those expres- 
 sions are generally used, to apply them to the support of such doc- 
 trines. In reference to this, I have quoted Dr. Taylor ; and those 
 illustrations of his which I have adopted, I have adopted on this ground ; 
 taking care never to pledge myself to any of his peculiar or heterodox 
 opinions : and where I thought an expression might be misunderstood, I 
 took care to guard it by a note or observation. — Now, I say, that it is in 
 this sense I understand the quotations I have made ; and in this sense 
 alone these quotations ought to be understood ; and my whole work 
 sufficiently shows that Dr. Taylor’s peculiar theological system makes 
 no part of mine ; that, on the doctrine of the fall of man, or original sin, 
 the doctrine of the eternal deity of Jesus Christ, the doctrine of justifica- 
 tion by faith in the atoning blood, and the doctrine of the inspiration and 
 regenerating influence of the Holy Ghost, we stand on two points of a 
 vast circle, in diametrical opposition to each other. Yet this most dis- 
 tinguishing difference cannot blind me against the excellences I find in 
 the above work ; nor can I meanly borrow from this or any other author, 
 without acknowledging my obligation ; nor could I suppress a name, 
 (however obnoxious that might be, as associated with any heterodox 
 system,) when I could mention it with deference and respect. Let this 
 be my apology for quoting Dr. Taylor ; and for the frequent use I 
 have made of his industry and learning in my exposition of the Epistle to 
 the Romans. If I have quoted, to illustrate the Sacred Writings, 
 passages almost innumerable from Greek and Roman heathens, from 
 Jewish talmudists and Rabbinical expositors, from the Koran, from 
 Mahommedan writers, both Arabic and Persian, and from Brahminical 
 Polytheists, and these illustrations have been well received by the Chris- 
 tian public, surely I may have liberty to use, in the same way, the, works 
 of a very learned man, and a most conscientious believer in the books of 
 Divine revelation, however erroneous he may appear to be in certain 
 doctrines which I myself deem of vital importance to the creed of an 
 experimental Christian. Let it not be said, that, by thus largely quoting 
 from his work, I tacitly recommend an Arian creed, or any part of that 
 
PART V. — SECTION III. 
 
 89 
 
 system of theology peculiar to him and his party ; I no more do so, than 
 the Indian matron, who, while she gives the nourishing rind of the 
 cassava to her household, recommends them to drink the poisonous juice 
 which she has previously expressed from it. After this declaration, it 
 will be as disingenuous as unchristian for either friends or foes to attri- 
 bute to me opinions which I never held; or an indifference to those 
 doctrines, which (/ speah as a fool) stand in no work of the kind, in any 
 language, so fully explained, fortified, and demonstrated, as they do in 
 that before the reader. On such a mode of judgment and condemnation 
 as that to which some resort, on matters of this kind, I might long ago 
 have been reputed a Pagan, or a Mahommedan, because I have quoted 
 heathen writers and the Koran. Paul might have been convicted of 
 having abandoned his Jewish creed, or Christian faith, because he had 
 quoted the heathen poets Aratus and Cleanthes. The man is entitled to 
 my pity who refuses to take advantage of useful discoveries in the 
 philosophical researches of Dr. Priestly, because Dr. Priestly, as a 
 theologian, was not sound in the faith. I have made that use of Dr. 
 Taylor which I have done of others ; and have reason to thank God that 
 his Key^ passing through several wards of a lock which appeared to me 
 inextricable, has enabled me to bring forth and exhibit, in a fair and 
 luminous point of view, objects and meanings, in the Epistle to the 
 Romans, which, without that assistance, I had perhaps been unable to 
 discover. Thus I have done with Dr. Taylor’s works ; and thus I de- 
 sire every intelligent reader to do with my own. When I was a child, 
 I had for a lesson, the following words, — Despise not advice even of the 
 meanest; the cackling of geese once saved the Roman state; and since I 
 became a man, I have learned wisdom from that saying, — Blessed are ye 
 who soiv beside All Waters ; that send forth thither the feet of the Ox and 
 the Ass.” 
 
 The person who led the way in this opposition, and spoke for “ half 
 an hour,” was Jabez Bunting, who had a hard struggle to pass through 
 the strait gate of admission into the Itinerant Ministry, as noticed else- 
 where, before the District Committee, in consequence of some heterodox 
 notions which he entertained on the subject of Baptism : but the crooked 
 are generally anxious to appear straight. He had travelled at this time 
 only about sixteen years ; but he was desirous of appearing wise and 
 orthodox — sought every fitting occasion to push himself forward, and 
 demurely fixed his eye on the top of the tree. He had been nibbling at the 
 subject some time in the social circle, trying quietly to enlist recruits for 
 the premeditated attack, thus displaying his usual generalship, to cover 
 himself from the fire that might ensue. Dr. Clarke’s defence of himself 
 placed him in a very humiliating position, and must — besides showing him 
 his want of footing — have been anything but grateful to his feelings. 
 
 Dr. Clarke, finding his health gradually undermined, by his sedulous 
 
90 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 attention to his Commentary, his duties as a preacher, and the part 
 which he took in the management of various associations for literary, 
 scientific, benevolent, and religious purposes, contemplated a change of 
 residence, observing to Mrs. Clarke, ‘‘I must hide my head in the 
 country, or it will shortly be hidden in the grave.” Several of his^ 
 friends, who had watched with solicitude his state of health, strongly 
 seconded his views, and urged him to relinquish the greater part of his 
 public pursuits ; while public institutions, and especially the ‘‘ British 
 and Foreign Bible Society,” entreated his continuance in the metropolis ; 
 the committee of the latter, on the first intimation, directing the Rev. 
 John Owen, one of the secretaries, to state, that there was “ a depart- 
 ment in the business of the society, which no one but the Doctor was 
 competent to direct ; ” that, ‘‘ in that department the committee could 
 work with him, or rather under him, but could do nothing without him 
 particularising the Arabic, the Ethiopic, the Abyssinian, and the Syriac 
 versions, in all which languages they stood pledged to the world for 
 something which had not then been executed. The Doctor, in his 
 answer to the members of the committee, stated, that they had sailed 
 round the world, and knew well how to work their vessel in every sea ; 
 that even their enemies had been serviceable, by lighting up beacons in 
 every place of danger, through which means they had been preserved 
 from rocks, shoals, and quicksands ; and that in this, the wrath of man 
 had been compelled to praise God. 
 
 In the course of this summer, he made a tour, — not of pleasure, but of 
 labour, — through Bristol, Cornwall, Exeter, Birmingham, Liverpool, and 
 some other places, chiefly to promote the cause of Missions ; a work in 
 which he had taken a share also in the spring ; having presided at the 
 formation of Missionary Societies in IManchester, Spitalfields, &c. While 
 at Birmingham, he preached, on Sunday, July 26, a sermon preparatory 
 to the public meeting, which was to be convened for the purpose of form- 
 ing a Missionary Society ; the text was Isa. ix. 7 ; in discussing which 
 he showed, with singular propriety, and evident effect on all present, the 
 constant and certain increase of the kingdom of God on earth. Having 
 reviewed former dispensations, and reminded the congregation, that the 
 inhabitants of every succeeding age had enjoyed privileges superior to 
 their immediate predecessors, he exhibited to their hopes and wishes, 
 bright and animating prospects of future improvement. On the Monday 
 forenoon, he preached in Cherry Street Chapel, on Colos. i. 27, 28. Here 
 he gave a perspicuous and affecting statement of the leading doctrines of 
 Christianity ; which he proved by a process of reasoning at once power- 
 ful and convincing. The public meeting, as a testimony of the high 
 approbation it entertained of this sermon, and of love to the truth, 
 unanimously requested the Doctor to allow it to be printed. In the 
 course of the public meeting, at which the Doctor presided, after one of the 
 speakers had adverted to the Wesleyan Mission at Sierra Leone, he excited 
 
PAKT V. — SECTION III. 
 
 91 
 
 considerable interest, by giving an account of a poor negro boy, who was 
 brought from thence by one of the Missionaries ; and whom he (the Doctor) 
 had received into his own house. His daughters, he observed, had taught 
 him to read and write ; and he had at length succeeded in apprenticing him 
 to a citizen of London : concluding with, “ If he faithfully serve his time, 
 we shall have the novel sight of one, who was once a ;poor slave, becoming 
 free of one of the first cities in the world.” 
 
 It was not possible for the Doctor to visit Birmingham without recol- 
 lecting early days, when, on his way to Kingswood School, in 1782, he 
 was kindly entertained by Joseph, brother to Mr. John Brettell : the 
 good man was now reduced in circumstances ; the change touched the 
 Doctor tenderly, who sat and conversed with him — administering the 
 consolations of religion. His sympathies were easily awakened : as he 
 was returning he saw a little dirty child weeping by the side of a puddle;, 
 when, with a parent’s feeling, he took it up, saying, as he carried it across, 
 what, to it, seemed an impassable gulph, “ I will help thee, my poor 
 child ! ” Infancy and age, with all the stages between, found help from 
 him, when help was required. 
 
 At Plymouth Dock, as at Birmingham, grateful recollections were 
 awakened. He preached on, “ What must I do to be saved? ” Acts xvi.. 
 30, and was two hours in delivering the discourse. Most of the ministers 
 in the town were present on the occasion, and followed him into the house 
 of the resident preacher ; not only to pay their respects to him, but tO' 
 request the publication of the sermon : one, a rigid Calvinist, stating 
 that he would take two hundred copies for his congregation ; — 
 the pastor of a Baptist congregation, offering to take two hundred and 
 fifty copies for his ; — a third, two hundred copies ; — and a fourth, five 
 hundred : but he informed them, that he neither had outline nor notes 
 written upon it, and that such were his engagements, he had no time to 
 spare for the work.* With this journey, and its attendant toil, he was 
 
 * At the close of the year, when removed from the hustle of the city, he found time 
 to pen his thoughts on the subject j the sermon bearing date, “ Millbrook, Dec. 25, 
 1815.” The original title of the Sermon, in its separate form, was, — “ The Doctrine of 
 Salvation by Faith ; or. An Answer to the important Question, ‘ What must I do to be 
 saved ? ’ by Adam Clarke j ” with the following mottoes : — 
 
 “ Father, thy word is past j man shall find grace ; 
 
 And shall not grace find means ? — 
 
 Atonement for himself, or offering meet. 
 
 Indebted and undone, he none can bring. 
 
 Behold ME then ; me for him, life for life, 
 
 I offer.” — Farad. Lost, b. III., 1. 227. 
 
 Mia ecrni/ t] odo? Siicaiovcra,^ tj Sia TrttrTeu)?. ^CU'tnen. 
 
 It was first published separately, by Butterworth and Son,— then in his “ Sermons,” 
 vol. III. p. 234, 8vo -and lastly, in his “Miscellaneous Works,” vol. VII. p. 120. He 
 informs his readers, in an “ Advertisement,” that he sought truth of every description, 
 especially religious truth ; that for more than half a century he had been in pursuit of 
 it, and had neglected no means to attain it; that he had watched with the ancients, and 
 laboured with the moderns ; that he had searched the Scriptures, and prayed for the 
 succours of the Spirit of wisdom ; that he had made himself acquainted with the 
 
n 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 much exhausted ; having “ travelled,” in his own language, both day 
 ^nd night.” 
 
 He reached London in the former part of J une, and contemplated his 
 removal, necessary as it was, with no small degree of solicitude. He 
 observed to his friend, Mr. Boyd, in a letter, that he should leave 
 London with regret ; and could not think of forming new friendships. 
 His old friend, Wm. Marriott, Esq., was at this time declining in health; 
 and entered the world of spirits on the 15 th of the month following. 
 Being requested by the family to preach a sermon on occasion of his death, 
 he remarked, “ You must not expect from me anything in the form of a 
 Funeral Sermon ; I shall never preach one while my name is Adam ; 
 whatever you furnish me with to read, I will most cheerfully and affec- 
 tionately do it ; and should anything worthy of remark occur to me, I 
 will make it. I told your brother so yesterday : as I am now getting 
 ready for Conference, I cannot possibly spare the time to-morrow, which 
 your note requires ; if I knew the time precisely you would be at the 
 chapel, I would endeavour to meet you there : do not send any coach for 
 me.” At the close of the sermon, which was preached in City Road 
 Chapel, July 23rd, the Doctor echoed the same sentiment: — “ You will 
 expect something more in this service : you have heard lately of the death 
 of an eminent member of this society — Mr. Marriott. I happened to be 
 the only preacher that saw him in his illness : you perhaps expected a 
 funeral sermon, but I never preach funeral sermons, — I never will. I have 
 attempted to do it, but did not please ; and, therefore, determined never to 
 do it again.” Then followed the account of Mr. Marriott’s last moments. 
 
 Conversing with a friend on the necessity of a country retreat, to 
 which allusion has been made, he observed, “I have made up my mind, 
 if God will open me a way, to leave this distracting place ; to get out of 
 the way even of a turnpike road, that I may get as much out of every 
 passing hour as I can. I ought to have no work at present, but the 
 Commentary ; for none can comprehend the trouble, and often anguish, 
 which the writing of these notes costs me; and what adds to the per- 
 plexity is, the multitude of little things to which, almost incessantly, ray 
 attention is demanded ; and to which, while remaining in town, I must 
 attend.” 
 
 Agreeably with the resolution thus prudently made. Dr. Clarke 
 purchased an estate, in the neighbourhood of Liverpool, to w-hich he re- 
 paired with his family, in the autumn of 1815. 
 
 One little incident may be noticed in connection with the alteration 
 of the house at Millbrook, which was the name of his new residence, and 
 which, had it not been for his Protestant heresies, would have gone along 
 way towards canonizing him as a Romish saint. While the painter was 
 
 religious systems ; that he had examined, with diligence and candour, creeds, cate- 
 chisms, confessions of faith, and bodies of divinity ; and that he had turned from all to 
 the Bible, which he had read carefully, with intense study and fervent prayer. 
 
PART V. — SECTION III. 
 
 93 
 
 engaged in graining the staircase walls in imitation of stone, he found 
 that the person who preceded him, had painted in a number of dark and 
 light stones, and that, by mere accident, the dark ones formed a large 
 cross on the principal side which faced the entrance of the hall-door. |The 
 Doctor and the painter viewing the wall, and each at the same time per- 
 ceiving the cross, — “ I must put it out,” said the latter. i^o,” said the 
 Doctor, “ I like the cross.” “ Yes,” returned the painter, “ but you will 
 be taken for a Catholic priest, to have that facing the entrance of your 
 house ; I must put it out.” “ Oh, no ! ” exclaimed the Doctor, ‘‘ keep it 
 in, keep it in, Milne ; I love the cross. Oh, yes ! I glory in the cross of 
 Christ.” That he was not ashamed of the cross, was evident, from the 
 fact of his having expressed these sentiments before a number of workmen, 
 and with an enthusiasm worthy of the subject ; and yet, in the midst of a 
 Roman Catholic population, as was the case around Millbrook, the cir- 
 cumstance was open to misconstruction by those who were accustomed to 
 look at the sign, instead of the thing signified. 
 
 The Doctor’s library, of which more will be said in a future page, was 
 large and well-arranged. Pointing to a few MS. volumes, he said to a 
 friend one day, ‘‘These are worth more than seven hundred pounds.” The 
 order for which he was almost proverbial, entered into his library. The 
 biographer had occasion to consult some works one evening, and left them 
 on a sideboard in the dining-room, to be ready in the morning for further 
 consultation. A little before the family retired, the Doctor, who had 
 been in his study, entered the room ; and, on seeing the books closed, 
 inquired, “ Have you done with those books, Everett ? ” On replying, 
 that they were laid aside for the following morning, he piled one upon 
 another, and, taking them up, said, — “ I never like a book of mine to 
 sleep out of its own bed ; ” and passed on to the library with his load, 
 prohibiting all interference in assisting him to carry them. Another 
 friend, being about to sit down with the family to breakfast one morning, 
 was thus accosted by the Doctor, — “ You are wanted in my study.” Mr.. 
 Strachan immediately arose, proceeded to the study ; then to the library ; 
 but found no person there, as he expected : on returning, he asked, “ Who 
 wants me. Sir? I find no one there.” “ Did you not see a book on the 
 library table, which insisted on again being put in its proper place?” 
 Mr. S. had left it there ; and in this way the Doctor taught him order ; and, 
 the more permanently to impress him, he sent him off, pleasantly withal, 
 just as he v/as about to seat himself at breakfast. He took as much 
 delight in gazing on the collective mass, as on the order in which they 
 were placed. On the former subject, he observed, “ When a Methodist 
 Preacher begins to tire in seeing a number of books around him, he 
 should be hung up to dry.” * 
 
 Duty and order were twins in his conception : he deemed that the 
 one, properly attended to, generally resulted in the other. The writer 
 was with him one day at the house of Mr. Tomkins, a banker, who asked 
 
'94 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 one of the members of the family for his “ Key,” meaning the key of the 
 iron safe, of which each partner kept a separate one ; so that it could not 
 foe opened font in the presence, and with the mutual consent of the whole. 
 The Doctor remarked on this, that when he was commissioned by Govern- 
 ment to examine the MS. library of Corpus Christi College, Cambridge, 
 formerly belonging to Archbishop Parker, he found that the treasures 
 were secured by three different locks, with so many different keys, kept 
 by three curators, who had to be present before access could be obtained 
 to the documents. He proceeded,— “ I was shown into a room, and told 
 that any document which I might want, would be regularly brought to 
 me. My wants, however, became so numerous, that one of the curators 
 stated, that, in order to save trouble, he had obtained the keys belonging 
 to his colleagues, and would regularly supply me : and so it is, that good 
 things get abused, in consequence of persons not attending to their duty.” 
 
 His general plan was, to rise in the winter at five — in summer, at four 
 o’clock in the morning. The bell rung at eight for family worship; 
 breakfast followed ; he then retired to his laboratory of thought ; he dined 
 at one ; took nothing again until supper, which followed immediately 
 after evening prayer ; he always retired to rest precisely at ten o’clock. 
 
 The conversation turning on poetry, he said, “ Beautiful versification 
 is lost in hymns ; the sense is that which is chiefly necessary.” He then 
 sung the first stanza of — “ Stand the Omnipotent decree,” with all the 
 apparent indifference of a person ignorant both of music and verse, with 
 no small share of effect, for the purpose of showing how both might be, 
 and actually were murdered, by the generality of worshippers. Though 
 he was not altogether deficient in the music of poetry, his iuclination led 
 him much more to its sense than either to its music or its beauty. Quoting 
 a couplet, in which he found — “ health, peace, and competence,” he re- 
 marked, ‘‘I was so pleased with the fulness and variety of thought which 
 the three words contained, that I took them for a text once, and preached 
 from them ; defining each term, and showing, under Christian feeling, 
 their sufficiency, &c.” 
 
 His definitions were frequently sought by the biographer. Taking up 
 Parkhurst’s Hebrew Lexicon, and pointing to bnx ahel^ a tenty the Doctor’s 
 attention was directed to it ; when he was asked what he thought of the 
 opinion which some critics entertained, who concluded Koah’s tent to be a 
 tahernachy or place of worship he replied, that he had no doubt that 
 tabernacles were in use, if not among the antediluvians, at least in early 
 times ; that the tabernacle in the wilderness was a substitute for these, 
 as the temple was a substitute for the tabernacle, and Christ was a sub- 
 stitute for the temple, who himself becomes both Lord and Temple, and 
 receives all true worshippers ; but that Noah went into a place of worship 
 to roll himself, he very much doubted ; and would not publish such 
 an opinion, with his name to it, for five pounds. Though the Doctor 
 
PART V. — SECTION III. 
 
 95 
 
 •awarded to Parkhurst all due praise, he was far more partial to Leigh as 
 •a critic. In answer to an observation on the difficulty of obtainiog good 
 oopies or rare editions of works in the country, he stated, “ I sought for 
 Cruden’s Concordance several years before I met with a copy.” 
 
 Keverting to Scripture characters, he said, “ I have not written ill of 
 any man ; nor will I, if I can do otherwise : to many I have given a lift 
 where I could. The more rigid of the Calvinists do not like me, because 
 I have abridged their liberty of dealing out damnation to others, while 
 they believe themselves to be safe ; and they know they are safe, because 
 they do not believe their own doctrine.” 
 
 After some remarks on Reason, he put a Sermon into the hand of the 
 biographer, which he had purchased among some other tracts, enjoining 
 a perusal. The title was, — Aoytfci} Aarpeia, Or a sermon proving 
 that Reason is to be our Guide in the Choice in our Religion ; and that 
 nothing ought to be admitted, as an Article of Faith, which is Repug- 
 nant to the Common Principles of Reason, or Unintelligible to the 
 Human Understanding. London: printed for J. Roberts, near the 
 Oxford Arms, in Warwick Lane, 1716.” 12mo. pp. 18. Ho name 
 
 being prefixed to the sermon, the author was unknown : but what had 
 impressed the Doctor so favourably with it was, the fact of his having 
 written a Sermon on the Province, &c., of Reason, only two or three 
 months before he himself had read it, and the striking coincidence 
 between them, both as to thought and the process of reasoning em- 
 ployed. He put the same sermon into the hand of Mr. Drew, the author 
 of an “ Essay on the Soul,” together with his own MS., and once 
 thought of appending the printed one to his, and publishing both. But 
 this he never carried into execution ; and this is the more to be regret- 
 ted, as the subject is one of no ordinary importance : for though it has 
 not been lost sight of by theological writers, it requires no ordinary 
 degree of delicacy, discrimination, and firmness in the handling. Part 
 of the title of the printed sermon is somewhat startling, and requires 
 the author’s reasonings and elucidations to render it every way satis- 
 factory.^' 
 
 * Without professing to state the precise views of either the Doctor, or the anony- 
 mous author, a few remarks may not be impertinent. — With some persons the ear is 
 open only to the voice of reason ; and with them, the reason of God, the reason of man, 
 and the reason of things, — all acceptations of the same word, — are often either igno- 
 rantly confounded, or artfully concealed; and, therefore, in arguing from one to 
 another, indiscriminately employed. Instead of contemplating reason as a power of 
 mind, variously possessed, and variously exerted, by different men, it is merely con- 
 sidered as a metaphysical faculty, whose sole employment is that of logic, without the 
 most distant allusion to either. Nor does the idoliser of reason less err in the estimate 
 he has formed of its capabilities, and the province in which it is destined to move ; 
 proceeding in his calculations and remarks, without reflecting, that, as a subject may 
 either be viewed in a wrong aspect, or not be pursued to the utmost limits of its natural 
 consequences, so there must, of necessity, be a right and a wrong reason, as well as a 
 reason otherwise lamentably defective. The inference deduced from hence is, that if 
 
96 
 
 ADAM CLAKKE. 
 
 Doctor Clarke was too well taught not to assign to reason its proper 
 province, and to faith its proper exercise and object. 
 
 To the untiring constancy of Doctor Clarke’s friendship, reference has 
 already been made : even in cases of defection from God, he has been 
 known to treat an old acquaintance with the tender considerations of 
 former days: aware that there is a description of persoos ever ready 
 to avail themselves of this kindly feeling to excite prejudice, willingly 
 confounding an act of courtesy with a habit of intimacy, the Doctor 
 observed to one of these hypercritical (and hypocritical) carpers, — “ I 
 speak to Mr. , and will still pay him attention : when he was walk- 
 
 ing to heaven, I endeavoured to keep him in the way ; and now that he 
 
 reason may be right or wrong in reference to truth, and diflfers in its degrees of strength 
 and clearness in different men, it cannot, agreeably to some writers, be a sufficient guide 
 in matters of religion. 
 
 It is not denied, that a final appeal is made to reason, in order to determine whether 
 revelation itself be genuine or spurious ; and that on the assumption of its Divine 
 authority we are assisted by it, in reference to the teachings and requirements of the 
 sacred volume, in doctrine and practice ; but even in this case it has its assigned 
 powers, and its prescribed limits, without which we should be unable to preserve a 
 proper medium between vanity and enthusiasm, on the one hand, and scepticism and 
 superstition on the other. Here it is that the very revelation', thus examined and 
 received, comes in with its aid, (just as a friend may do who is admitted into our 
 dwellings, and of whose integrity, importance, and good intentions, we have been con- 
 vinced), not by assisting reason in its powers to discern, compare, combine, and 
 analyse, — nor even by imparting any new ability for the work, — ^but by furnishing 
 suitable materials to work upon ; offering to its consideration truths which it could 
 never have discovered by induction, and adding its own light to each particular subject ; 
 just in the way that day -break brings before the eye a variety of objects, which, till the 
 dawning ai>pear, are invisible to the beholder, though he might have exercised the 
 organ of vision on a diversity of objects before, to which he might have been led by 
 means of a lighted taper. The Divine Being, therefore, does not abolish reason, by 
 which we are to understand' the clear conviction of our faculties ; but so far honours it, 
 as his own gift, (as in the case of the eye just employed for illustration,) as to permit 
 it to perform its proper work, by imparting a more lucid, a fuller, and more lively con- 
 viction of the truth of whatever is passing in review before it, than could otherwise be 
 attained. But still it has its range and its bounds, beyond which, like the surges of the 
 deep, it cannot go. There are heights to which it cannot soar; lengths to which it 
 cannot reach; breadths to which it cannot extend; depths which it cannot fathom. 
 After it has taken its soundings, and even attempted in its divings to reach *‘the deep 
 things of God,” it is compelled to pause; and, looking downward to the profound still 
 beneath, constrained to exclaim,— “O the depth!” The great mistake is, that reason 
 attempts the work of faith ; whereas reason, in contradistinction to faith, has only to 
 attend to the evidence arising from the nature of things ; faith having invariably to 
 proceed on the authority of the testifier. A truth is sometimes a matter of faith only ; 
 and at others, both of faith and reason, though in widely different respects : the one, 
 therefore, is neither to usurp the province, nor trench upon the bounds of the other. 
 
 Our attention is directed to the astonishing achievements of Archimedes, the 
 amazing erudition of Grotius, the strength and perspicuity of Chillingworth, the pro- 
 found observations of Locke, and the surprising discoveries of Sir Isaac Newton. And 
 by whom, and for what purpose ? By men who appear more solicitous to support the 
 honour of reason, than to attend to the declarations of God; desirous of clothing it, 
 rather than their Saviour, with something like the attributes of divinity ; and to bring 
 us to its footstool in the humble attitude of adorers. But we can present in our turn, 
 by way of preserving a proper balance, a long list of subjects in which reason has been 
 
PART V. — SECTION III. 
 
 9 ' 
 
 going to hell, I will endeavour to keep him out; of it.” The Doctor was 
 well aware, that, in sharing his bread and salt with a man, he was 
 furnishing himself with an opportunity of doing him good, which fifty of 
 those heartless ceremonies, denominated “ morning calls,” could not 
 afford; and, therefore, following out the apostolic injunction, to restore 
 the fallen disciple “ in the spirit of meekness,” he kept the poor de- 
 linquent in view ; and knowing that he could not, as heretofore, company 
 with him, he could still live for him, by drawing upon the influence 
 of former friendship ; he watched with earnest solicitude for some 
 relentings of heart, by which, perchance, he might restore the man 
 to the path of duty and happiness. Thus, the principle of friendship 
 
 busily employed for successive ages, and wMcli are yet unexplored. While this exhibits 
 the folly of implicitly adhering to such a guide, — a guide so defective, so susceptible of 
 delusion, — it ought to moderate the pretensions of those men who a»e for bringing 
 God himself to their bar, instead of ^oing to his; taking the dimensions of infinite 
 wisdom by the shallow and erring faculties of a finite mind; affecting, at the same 
 time, to despise the lowly follower of Jesus, who marvels at nothing more than his 
 own ignorance ; and experiences no satisfaction, no consolation, equal to that which 
 arises from faith in bis sacrificial death. 
 
 Let the reader, if not weary with this digressive note,— though led to it by the 
 subject of this memoir, — apply the remark to the doctrine of Christ’s satisfaction, as 
 oonveyed to man in the expressive language of revelation, and constitute an inquiry into 
 the province of reason, in the case — How far it can conduct us ? where it is that its 
 work commences, and where it terminates ? The first discovery made by unassisted 
 reason, is that of human guilt ; a subject established on the testimony of the heathen, 
 in the confessions and acknowledgments which they have invariably made of the crimes 
 they have i^erpetrated. Having acquired this knowledge in the outset, the second 
 discovery, naturally i^roeeeding from the first, is, desert of punishment; to demonstrate 
 which, no other evidence is requisite than the remorse and fear with which the con- 
 sciences of the same people are repeatedly agonised. The third conclusion to which it 
 brought, by gradually proceeding from proof to presumption, is, a persuasion, that 
 the Being against whom so many offences have been committed, and who is justly 
 displeased because of those offences, may, nevertheless, be induced to yield to the 
 entreaties of bis creatures. To attest the truth of this, we might adduce every prayer 
 that has been uttered by pagan lips, every temple he has erected, every altar before 
 which he has bowed as a worshii)per. Eeason, however, stops not here : it is capable of 
 advancing still further; and to give it all the honour due, (and that is not a little,) it 
 may be further remarked, that the fourth pcdnt ascertained by it is, the necessity of 
 satisfying Divine justice : a truth this, which is supported by every sacrifice, every 
 burnt offering, every human victim, and every drop of blood which has flowed around 
 the altar of the untutored savage. Thus far has reason proceeded in regions that have 
 never been visited by Divine revelation; but further than this, it cannot go: here it 
 comes to a breathless stand; all beyond is darkness that may be felt, deep as that which: 
 enwrapped the Egyptian, when a man was unable to see his fellow ; nor can it, in the 
 language of inspiration, even by “feeling after” it, grope its way to the cross of 
 Christ. How plausible soever, therefore, these speculations may be, they form only, in 
 the expressive language of a writer of the last century, a systematic body without a 
 head: for no positive promise of pardon from God, can by possibility belong to them, 
 either separately or in their associated character. The mystery of redemption belongs 
 exclusively to God; for he €>nly could reveal that, because only he could plan, and only 
 he could execute that profound relief : and now that infallible wisdom has made it 
 known, reason is in arms against it : and in cases, when not wholly socinianally averse 
 to the doctrine, is absolutely absorbed in its depths, and requires all its submission to 
 re jiive it as an article of faith. 
 
 V^OL. II. 
 
 n 
 
98 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 was in him like the love of God ; it penetrated and possessed the soul^ 
 ruling and swaying with an absolute sovereignty : and let the whited*- 
 wall and painted-sepulchre-pharisee of modern days, be told, that the 
 very way to superadd callousness to indifference, is to turn the back upon 
 a man, who, in the hour, has unhappily fallen by the power, of tempta- 
 tion ; but who, had any sought to restore him in the spirit of Christian 
 love, might have been timely delivered from the power of the tempter. 
 
 Though the Doctor was located at Millbrook, he took as great a share 
 of pulpit labour as his strength, in conjunction with other duties, would 
 allow. His frequent visits to the metropolis, in reference to the Record 
 Commission, would not, even had he been favoured with physical energy^ 
 have permitted him to take the regular work of a circuit ; but as the 
 Government engagement had the sanction of Conference, the simple act 
 of residence at Millbrook, could not subject him to the title of super- 
 numerary, any more than did that of some of his brethren in London, 
 who for a series of years were appointed to attend to the secular affairs 
 of the Connexion ; and, therefore, unable to take regular circuit duty. 
 His attention to his estate had a beneficial influence on the health and 
 spirits of Dr. Clarke : he had been in the neighbourhood previously 
 to his permanent residence, and had found it necessary to expend con- 
 siderable sums upon the land, ruthlessly exhausted by its former posses- 
 sor ; the grateful soil in time made its returns, the wilderness became 
 a fruitful field, and Adam was thus beheld in his miniature Eden. 
 
 But though his habits had become so fixed, as to render it nearly im- 
 possible for him to settle down from the student into the farmer, yet the 
 joyousness of boyish days, when he assisted to cultivate his father’s little 
 farm, often stole over him. The original and the intellectual, were 
 associated with the power by which Coleridge defines genius to be dis- 
 tinguished, namely, — the ability to carry the freshness and feelings of 
 childhood into the powers of manhood. His kindly feeling for the brute 
 creation has been noticed : some years previously to the time of which 
 we now write, he observed to a friend, — “My heart has often been dis- 
 tressed on witnessing the abuse of which the poor ass is the subject; 
 should God ever give me a few acres of land, I am determined to make at 
 least one ass happy : ” accordingly, we find him directing his bailiff to 
 purchase one, and to have it treated with proper care : a paddock was 
 assigned to “ Baudet,” as the ass was named, and often did the Doctor 
 himself go to the field taking a quantity of corn with him. “ We will 
 never abuse her,” said he, addressing one of his family who stood 
 watching the feeding process. ‘‘Woe to the man who could ill-use even 
 an ass.” 
 
 As the scene around him improved in appearance by culture, he 
 became enlivened, and would talk to an intimate friend now and then, 
 (as though the pride of farming had come upon him,) on the subject 
 
PART V.— “SECTION III. 
 
 99 
 
 of poultry, cows, and other live-stock; — aye, with the apparent plea- 
 surable feeling of Earl Spencer, Coke of N’orfolk, or any other gentleman, 
 famed for his skill in stock and agricultural experiments; a case not 
 exciting much surprise, when we take into the account, as already 
 intimated, early pursuits and the balm, and breeze, . and health, and 
 freedom of the country, compared with the noise, smoke, and cooped-up 
 life of the city. 
 
 It was amusing to overhear a little of the colloquial with a pleasant 
 friend, who, with his sparkling wit and cheerful temper, threw an air of 
 sunshine on all around him ; the one satisfied, if not pleased with his 
 own, and the other disposed, by his roguery, to draw him off, and 
 surprise him into something else. 
 
 The feelings of boyhood came over him, on other subjects than 
 farming : “ To-day,’^ said he, ‘‘ it rained very hard, and having provided 
 some fishing-tackle, I went down to the pond, and soon caught a dish of 
 very fine perch and dace ; two of the former, at least a pound weight 
 each.” 
 
 As a specimen of the more serious and substantial in farming, the 
 following letter to his brother-in-law, gives an interesting peep at the 
 domestic circle at Millbrook, and of the opening success of his agricul- 
 tural and other efforts : it embraces also a topic of deep interest, — the 
 Bill on behalf of Children in the Manufactories, the success of which 
 engaged the Doctor’s most benevolent feelings, and anxious hopes. 
 
 Millhrooh. 
 
 My vp:ry dear Brother, — On my return from holding my District 
 Meeting, in Manchester, I found your letter and all the notes safe. What 
 you say concerning the unprofitableness of farms, &c., when compared 
 with money in the funds, I most readily admit. I know too much of 
 agriculture, and have too high a sense of the propriety of keeping every- 
 thing in order, and in a high state of cultivation, to expect to gain much 
 in this way : but what is gain, — what honour, — ^what abundance and 
 luxury, in comparison of mental ease and bodily health ! Here, so far as 
 I can expect to be, in a state of trial, I am happy : and should be healtiiy 
 also, if excessive labour did not so repeatedly prostrate my strength. 
 Here, a handful of herbs, a few potatoes, and a drink from my own 
 brook, are to me angel’s food : because, wherever I go, I see little else 
 than God, and his noble instrument, — Nature, — perpetually at w^ork. 
 The land here, though excellent, was greatly exhausted ; and nothing 
 could be expected from it till put into a state of thorough repair : this I 
 have endeavoured to do ; and, though heavily expensive, it has been to 
 me a pleasing labour ; because I fully understand the business, and have 
 exhibited plans of improvement which some of the first agriculturists 
 here do not hesitate to copy : everything now begins to assume a pleasing 
 
 II 2 
 
100 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 form, and a little more money and labour expended upon the estate will 
 set my eye at ease. Here, then, we are happy, and want only a chapel 
 on the premises, to leave nothing worthy of a wish behind. I have a 
 Popish neighbourhood, and no place of v/orship near me ; and many I 
 know would come and hear, if we had a little chapel : my girls have been 
 very useful in the neighbourhood : they have talked with the people, from 
 house to house; explained the leading doctrines of Christianity; given 
 away tracts, Testaments, and Bibles ; are teaching adults to read ; making 
 various articles for the poor ; and God has owned this : some are already 
 awakened, and some brought to God ; we have indeed laid ourselves 
 out to be useful : the people feel it ; and not a few have blessed God, 
 because we have been brought to the place. A chapel that would hold 
 three hundred would be sufficiently large : I will have it supplied by the 
 Prescot preachers, and will have the prayers read in it. The poor people 
 say, — “ An you had a chapel, we would all go your road.” So that now, 
 in the name of the blessed Trinity, I shall begin to build a house for God ; 
 and hope to take little rest till I have a tabernacle for the God of Jacob, 
 — the God of Paul, — to dwell in ! I am now going to order the bricks ; 
 and I hope to have the walls raised by the time Mrs. B. and yourself 
 come to see us. 
 
 Concerning the projected Bill, in behalf of children in the manufac- 
 tories, I have carried your papers both to Leeds and Manchester, and was 
 surprised to find, except among the preachers, who rejoice in the principle 
 of the Bill, a shyness to enter into the subject, or even to speak upon it. 
 I could not comprehend this, until Wednesday last, when I dined with 
 several manufacturers, who have in their employ twelve or fifteen thou- 
 sand children. I spoke of the Bill, and of its most benevolent principle ; 
 and expressed my hope that it would take up the subject from the founda- 
 tion, and that it would pass into a law. What was my astonishment 
 to find all present against it : they spoke of it as a measure fraught with 
 the deepest and most extensive mischief; — a measure, which had for its 
 object the total abolition of Sunday-schools, religious instruction, the 
 Sabbath-day, all Methodist and other such preaching ; and which, if 
 passed into a law, would be an antidote to all our religious blessings, and 
 a wide-wasting curse : that they were prepared to prove by the most 
 incontrovertible evidence, that the health and morals of the children in 
 the manufactories, were beyond all comparison better than those wffio 
 were out of them ; that the temperature was just what agreed best with 
 their health ; and that they grew into more effective men and women than 
 others. They added, that the very idea of being visited by the Govern - 
 ment inspectors, was hateful to them. In a word, they are all deter- 
 mined to oppose the Bill, and give evidence against it. They were all 
 intelligent men ; and some of them both pious and humane. At this 
 meeting T learned, also, that of twenty-three manufacturers, in the town 
 
PAKT V. SECTION III. 
 
 101 
 
 of Colne, twenty bad failed ; that the weavers in general could not get 
 more than eight shillings per week, that there were then in Manchester 
 itself, eighteen thousand persons out of employ, and that if things did 
 not mend speedily, there would be a general rising in a few weeks. You 
 may naturally suppose that these things were calculated to give me a 
 heavy heart. 
 
 But it was the moral scene which was beginning to smile around, upon 
 which the eye of the Doctor rested with the greatest benignity : the little 
 chapel was now finished, and Divine service regularly performed in it. 
 ^Tearly forty children, previously under no kind of moral culture, were 
 collected into a Sunday-school; and who, after having been taught to 
 read a little, were initiated into the meaning and importance of our 
 admirable liturgy, and taught to repeat, with becoming reverence, the 
 responses and other congregational parts of the service ; those of them 
 who evinced a talent that way, were taught, one evening in every week, a 
 few plain tunes, which they soon learned to sing with propriety and 
 tolerable correctness. The poor children, as soon as they perceived them- 
 selves to form a responsible portion of the congregation, became regular 
 in their attendance, neat and cleanly in their appearance, and becomingly 
 sober in their deportment. This improvement in their children could not 
 fail to have its share of influence on the parents ; the neighbourhood was 
 principally Eoman Catholic, and the inevitable consequence of the moral 
 policy of that wretched system, was painfully illustrated in the stoical 
 indifference with which, for some time, all attempt to instruct either the 
 mind or the heart, was received ; but as it is an axiom of universal appli- 
 cation, that the heart of the parent is to be reached through his child, so 
 the Millbrook family found it : the children were noticed and instructed ; 
 and the parents, persuaded by their little ones, came — at first, from 
 curiosity, to listen — from this to inquire — to weep and to pray ! Few, at 
 first, in number, because timid of adventuring into a Methodist place of 
 worship, the congregation increased as the moral courage of the hearers 
 rose, from the acceptance of a few plain truths, made apprehensible to 
 them ; and in a short time, from among this once wretchedly benighted 
 peasantry, a small Christian society arose, which was watched over with 
 sedulous attention and patient perseverance. Two full services every 
 Sabbath, besides one in the week, invited the devotions of the people ; 
 and though the regularly appointed ministers could give their labours only 
 occasionally, (the intervals being supplied by the local brethren,) the inter- 
 ruptions to these visits had but the effect of enhancing their services, 
 when they could be granted. Among those ministers the Rev. Phillip 
 Garrett, a man of strong original mind, ready utterance, fervent zeal, 
 and undoubted piety, was the universal favourite : he was, in the critical 
 sense of the term, a popular preacher — the people’s favourite. Plis 
 
102 
 
 ADAM CLAllKE. 
 
 oratory might lack the grace and polish of the schools, but it had plenty 
 of point ; it came from the heart, and it went straight to the heart : the 
 bow drawn, sometimes at a venture, with the whole moral strength of the 
 man, sent forth its rougbly-headed arrow, piercing the very centre of 
 some, till then, impenetrable heart ; and the tear might be observed 
 rolling down the cheek of him, who, a short time before, had been a 
 nuisance to his neighbour, and a pest to his family. “ Broad is the road 
 that leads to hell, my brethren, and you are all walking in it, and you 
 will soon be there,” exclaimed this Boanerges ; ‘‘ and do you know what 
 sort of a place hell is?” — then followed a somewhat fervid description. 
 “ But what do I see there ! a poor wretch weary of his sins, while tears 
 are hdling from his eyes ; take courage man, J esus Christ died to save 
 just such as you ; cry, — ‘ God be merciful to me a sinner ; ’ that will be 
 enough, for you do not know how to pray ! God will hear you, and 
 pardon you — but make haste — begin now — time is short — you may 
 die even to-night — flee to Jesus Christ : he is the Saviour of sinners, and 
 he is now, at this moment, waiting to pardon you ! ” Such was the rough 
 rhetoric, wherewith Mr. Garrett addressed the poor ignorant people, who, 
 with eyes and mouth open, were seeming, by every sense they possessed, 
 to absorb every word he spoke : ornament of style, and grace of diction, 
 might have been presented to them for ever, but they would have fallen 
 as on the deaf, or on the dead ! — but here, all which was necessary to sal- 
 vation, was taught them, in language they immediately apprehended ; 
 and much good resulted from these plain and affectionate warnings, invi- 
 tations, and appeals. 
 
 SECTION lY. 
 
 1816 . 
 
 In the early part of 1816, the frost was long and intense, and a number of 
 mariners who sailed out of the port of Liverpool were out of employ. Not- 
 withstanding the provision made for them by the authorities and respect- 
 able inhabitants, there were several in a state of great destitution. Resolved 
 to lend his quota of help, the Doctor sent to Liverpool for twenty-five of 
 these brave fellows, some of whom had fought their country’s battles, and 
 fed them for three weeks. Not having convenience to accommodate 
 them with beds, a quantity of dry wheat straw was strewed on clean 
 boarded floors, with an ample supply of blankets. During the day, they 
 levelled a piece of ground to form a carriage-road to the house. One of 
 them stood cook; and as soon as meal-time arrived, the Doctor was sure 
 to be present to see that they had enough. 
 
PART V. — SECTIOX IV. 
 
 103 
 
 The Doctor’s benevolence was like the ocean-deep, pure, expansive, 
 and yielding ; it had its daily flowings and its ebbings ; but whenever it 
 seemed to retire within itself, it was only occasioned by the law of neces- 
 sity : it returned with a kind of spring- tide power. One of these spring- 
 tide feelings may be named : — He went to Manchester — while there, 
 some poor Irish people heard of his visit, and assailed him with their 
 complaints of wretchedness. Pat’s tale of woe was too touching for the 
 Doctor to resist ; and forgetting the prudence which ought to be an 
 attendant on charity, as well as feeling his nationality, he relieved him- 
 self of a considerable sum given by Mrs. Clarke for the purchase of 
 various articles ; and left her commission unfulfilled. Money,” he 
 remarked, “ never stays with me and then playfully subjoined, I am 
 sometimes called to book for it ; but my answer is, ‘ Well, Mary dear, all 
 I can say is, I have not spent it on myself.’ ” Speaking of charity, on 
 another occasion, he said — (not, be it observed, in the language of self- 
 adulation, but by way of incentive,) ‘Ht is rare, indeed, that I send 
 a beggar away without giving him as much as will procure food for 
 the day. I was amused lately with a person who solicited alms ; he was 
 low in stature, and had something on his feet that had been shoes once ; 
 on relieving him, I said, ‘It is a pity to see you in that plight ; ’ on which, 
 the little fellow turned round, and said, ‘ Sir, I am in this state, while 
 some of God’s swine are riding in c^irriages ; ’ then, with a stately step, 
 strutted off.” Some curious remarks would steal out from the Doctor 
 himself now and then, when inward emotions were exhibited by external 
 indications. “ I do not very well like the appearance of that man,” said 
 he to the writer, respecting another person who had solicited alms ; he 
 has a face drawn up by cross tempers, like the puckered heel of an ill- 
 darned stocking.” Then, as if he had been too severe, by way of soften- 
 ing matters, he added, “ I sometimes find my own face puckered up, but 
 on detecting it, I instantly say, — ‘ It shall not be so.’ ” 
 
 The Wesleyan Mission to the East Indies had begun, ere this, to 
 exhibit signs of success ; and the brethren aware of the interest Dr. 
 Clarke took in the spread of evangelical truth, forwarded several interest- 
 ing communications to him ; nor was he without joy of heart in learning 
 from Mr. Toase, instances of the success of the labour bestowed on the 
 French prisoners of war, in the river Medway, and elsewhere ; some of 
 them, on their deliverance from captivity, on the restoration of peace, 
 and when embosomed in their own families, writing to England, and 
 expressing with grateful emotions, the good they had received from Mr. 
 Toase himself, and others. Success was invariably connected, in the 
 Doctor’s mind, with the honest and affectionate enforcement of truth. A 
 reverend gentleman was congratulating himself on what he supposed to 
 be the effect of his conduct on his ministry : “I have had the charge of a 
 flock,” said he to the Doctor, “now nearly forty years, and have had 
 
lG-1 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 nothing but peace and good neighbourhood among my parishioners 
 during the whole of that time.” The Doctor having some slight know- 
 ledge of the gentleman, and not altogether ignorant of his pulpit furni- 
 ture, bluntly replied, for the purpose of making a deeper impression, “ I 
 am very sorry to hear it, for a ministry of such a date ought to have 
 raised either God or the devil before nov/ ; ” glancing at that view of the 
 subject which our Lord has given us — ‘‘ I came not to send peace, but a 
 sword.” 
 
 Notwithstanding the quiet of rural life, the Doctor, (like most per- 
 sons long accustomed to the metropolis, where everything, however 
 trivial, is within reach, and wdiich only becomes important as its want is 
 felt,) experienced a few occasional inconveniences ; some of which, how- 
 ever, became sources of amusement rather than pain. One may be 
 noticed: — His own razors being out of order, he desired his hairdresser to 
 send him one; two were immediately sent. No. 1, and No. 2, in a case. 
 The trial of the first was far from satisfactory ; and the other was still 
 worse : he, however, proceeded in the operation ; and while hackling and 
 scraping — the tears, meanwhile, rolling copiously down his cheeks, he 
 gave utterance to the following homely, though amusing impromptu 
 
 “You may take number one, 
 
 And if that will not do, 
 
 You next, may go on. 
 
 And try number two ; 
 
 To shave— if with neither— 
 
 Should be your mishax^, 
 
 Then rectify either. 
 
 By using the strap.” 
 
 The hairdresser had fortunately sent a strop with the razors. “ For the 
 last forty years,” said the Doctor, “ I have tried to understand the 
 philosophy of dipping a razor into hot water, in order to give it a keener 
 edge, and so make it cut more freely ; but have been unable to compre- 
 hend it.” Yet, though not altogether satisfied on the subject of which he 
 professed ignorance, he had entered into it as far as many, and then 
 rested in the enjoyment of a more agreeable operation ; being the result 
 of the fact he could not satisfactorily explain.* 
 
 The writer on looking at a portrait of Dr. Franklin, which was in 
 the possession of Dr. Clarke, was led to offer some remarks on the 
 execution ; and these again led to the literary history of that celebrated 
 man. “ Dr. Franklin,” said he, when speaking of emphatic words, 
 
 * It may be modestly suggested, that the x>bilosopby of the above fact may be found 
 in the ascertained principle of the expansion of bodies by heat ; for though water 
 oannot be so hot as to injure the temper of a razor, it does at the same time, cause the 
 steel to expand; and it would seem that the principle philosophic, is dependent on tliis 
 circumstance; the cutting atoms on the edge of the razor, are a little protruded by the 
 heat, and the edge thus becomes a very perfectly line saw, which the more keenly cuts 
 up every obstacle in its way. 
 
PAET V. — SECTION? IV. 
 
 105 
 
 printed in the italic character, regretted that there was not something 
 in typography which would express, by the character employed for the 
 occasion, the different degrees of force and emphasis which a writer 
 wished to give to his meaning : this he considered a serious defect ; ” and 
 so, also, it was judged to be by Dr. Clarke himself, who was more- 
 solicitous of meaning than style : hence the endless examples of it in his 
 Motes, Sermons, and other writings. He was equally curious in his 
 etymological remarks, and affinities of language. ‘‘I have observed,” 
 said he, among the simple, honest inhabitants of the county of Antrim 
 and Londonderry, in Ireland, that the common name for the devil or 
 Satan, is — The Sorrow : a good sense of the original word, 6 Trovrjpog^ the 
 Wicked One, the Evil One, the Sorrow. He who is miserable himself, 
 and whose aim is to make all others so. Where sin is, there is sorrow.” 
 Then, adverting to sin and sinners, he said, ‘‘ The sins of the wicked, in 
 their immediate results, and future consequences, are, in their relations, 
 like so many links in an immense chain, the last of which is fastened to 
 the burning throne of the arch-fiend of hell.” 
 
 Though Dr. Clarke avoided the ornate, he was a foe to all careless- 
 ness. Some young men, as is usual, were examined previously to their 
 being received into full connexion: one of these, on coming up to the 
 table, dipped his pen into the ink, and then, finding he had taken up too 
 much, shook his hand, and scattered it on the floor, to prevent blotting the 
 paper. The Doctor, with a view to make a more permanent impression, 
 as well as to instruct him in some other niceties, called him to him, and 
 said, — “When you wish to shake the superfluous ink from the pen, 
 (taking a clean one in his hand, and suiting the action to it,) take care to 
 sprinkle it always on your own white neckerchief, where it will be seen, 
 and be sure to be taken off.” The young man felt it, and so did others : 
 the lesson intended was, — that carelessness in little things, will lead to 
 neglect in matters of great moment. 
 
 He was especially anxious that a proper bias should be given to the 
 mind in early life. This induced him to deliver a course of lectures to a 
 select academy of young gentlemen ; some of whom were intended for the 
 church, some for the bar, and some for the army. After the delivery of 
 one of them, several of the gentlemen begged to be favoured with the 
 definitions and leading principles. To oblige them, the whole was drawn 
 up and published under the title of, — The Origin and End of Civil 
 Government,” founded on Komans xiii. 1. In the delivery of tins lecture 
 he quoted no authorities; but poured forth his sentiments from the 
 general knowledge he had of the principles of just government, and frona 
 his acquaintance with the civil constitution under which he had the 
 happiness to live ; to deal with which, he was the better qualified from 
 the course of reading and study required by the Kecord Commission. All 
 party politics were avoided ; these he abhorred ; and he steered equally 
 
106 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 clear of these in bis Discourse on ‘‘The Rights of Grod and Caesar,” on 
 Matt. xxii. 15 — 21, in which are several topics capable of being incor- 
 porated in the former *, and which, in all probability, would have occupied 
 a space there, had not the occasion dictated the propriety of observing 
 brevity.* 
 
 Though the Doctor was fully aware that the biographer . was in the 
 habit of preserving memoranda on literary subjects of general interest, 
 which turned up in the course of conversation, and would playfully 
 remark on what ought, and what ought not to be preserved ; * yet, in 
 reference to his extempore addresses, in the pulpit, he was extremely 
 jealous ; and dealt out, with an unsparing hand, some heavy blows against 
 short-hand writers, who were in the habit of appropriating a minister’s 
 public discourses to their own private gain. He observed, “ I was in a 
 house once, in which the lady and her husband had, just before I entered, 
 some unpleasant words with each other : it was like a heavy swell at sea 
 between adverse tides, wdth one wave at the prow and another at the 
 
 stern of the vessel ; the swell continued, and at length Mrs. , 
 
 addressing me, said, “ My husband. Sir, has been employing a short-hand 
 writer to take down your sermons, with a view to publish them after your 
 death.” This was permitted to pass, for the moment, with the simple 
 statement, “Ho man can follow me, and I reprobate the act.” Some 
 time after this, observed the Doctor, “ I asked the gentleman to show me 
 the sermons ; this he refused, except on condition that I promised to 
 return them : this, 1 did ; but on their being placed in my hand, a match 
 might have been lighted at the man’s face ; and well might he redden, for 
 I found arguments without conclusions, and conclusions without argu- 
 ments. This,” continued the Doctor, when the same subject was on the 
 tapis, some years afterwards, on the publication of his Sermons, in three 
 vols. 8vo — “ this is the key to the prefatory remarks to my Discourses.” 
 Another gentleman, a very popular preacher, told the Doctor one day, 
 that he had two or three of bis sermons in MS., which had been taken 
 down by one of his congregation. The Doctor said, “ If any man had 
 presented me with two sermons, stated to have been delivered by you, I 
 should, before I had looked at them, have asked him — Does Mr. , 
 
 * Without, in the least, committing the Doctor to a Life by the biographer, or con- 
 cluding that he was aware that a Memoir was contemplated, a word, in self-defence, in 
 n,ddition to what has been stated, in the Preface to the first volume, may be allowed : — 
 “ There are some incidents in my life, Everett, which you may publish, if you please, 
 when I am dead.” Dr. Clarke, Tuesday, June 17, 1828. — On another occasion, having 
 made a minute of an astronomical observation, “See, Doctor,” said Mr. R., “what a 
 packet of leaves Mr. E. has filled while journalising!” Dr. Clarke: “Mr. E. sows 
 besides all waters, and brings the feet of the ox and the ass to them.”-— At another time, 
 on priestly domination being named, and knowing the writer’s abhorrence of it, the 
 Doctor laughingly said, “ Put that down, E.,” and then, in the same jocose mood, he 
 quoted Hudibras— 
 
 “ ’Tis owned he was a man of wit, 
 
 Yet many a foolish thing he writ.” 
 
PART V.— SECTION IV. 
 
 107 
 
 know of tills? has he seen them? does he acknowledge them to be his? 
 has he had the opportunity of correcting them, and so, of preventing you 
 from putting forth words not his own ? If he could not have answered 
 these questions in the affirmative, I should have immediately returned 
 
 them without perusal.” Mr. looked abashed : and though on habits 
 
 of intimacy before, and still on friendly terms, when accidentally thrown 
 in each other’s way, he never came to the house afterwards.* “ My papers 
 I purpose leaving to my sons : my letters are not worth publishing ; they 
 are mere letters of business. During one of the years of my presidency, 
 I wrote three hundred connexional letters alone ; but the interest of these 
 died with the day.” It is unnecessary to state, that this estimate of many 
 of his letters is too low ; and the w^riter possessing many scores of them, 
 is able to form a pretty correct judgment on their merits. 
 
 On Boswell’s “ Life of Johnson” being named, he said, “ Boswell’s vanity 
 is everywhere perceptible ; yet he has preserved a great many useful 
 things, which otherwise would have been lost.” It was remarked by the 
 biographer, in reply to this, that it was impossible not to have a pleasur- 
 able feeling in his association with such a man as Johnson ; and that, 
 though his admiration of his subject might lead him astray, his feeling 
 was no other than that of every other historian, who attempts the life of 
 an esteemed friend ; and who, after all, is left with a discretionary power, 
 as to the character of the materials which are to be employed for his 
 work : should those materials be as ample as were Boswell’s, it will not 
 be matter of surprise to find friendship, which, like love, is very often 
 without eyes, dealing out its “ littleness.” “ But you will allow, Doctor,” 
 was continued, “ that it is the best method of writing a life ; and that 
 the history of such men as Sir Isaac Newton, Boyle, La Place, and others 
 of a higher order of intellect, would be highly beneficial to society ; as in 
 the case of Selden’s ‘Table Talk,’ published by Milward, his amanuensis!” 
 
 Conversing one day in his study with his eldest daughter, the subject 
 of biography was introduced ; when she observed, — “ There is no style of 
 biography, I think, so generally interesting as that adopted by Boswell in 
 his life of Dr. Johnson.” 
 
 Dr. C. — “In its application to great literary characters, and perhaps 
 also to travellers, your observation is perfectly correct; and if Boswell 
 had not hit upon that plan of noting down Dr. Johnson’s conversation, 
 the world would have known comparatively little of that great man.” 
 
 A . — “ But do you not think it would be the most agreeable and most 
 natural way in which the facts of a life can be thrown together, in order 
 to form a correct portrait ? because, if you have the opinions and fulness 
 of the subject, as given forth in his every-day remarks, you must neces- 
 sarily feel yourself in company with him.” 
 
 Dr. C. — “ Why this would suppose mind to be constituted more 
 * The gentleman referred to was Dr. Raffles. 
 
108 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 generally alike, than we really find it to be ; in numerous instances, 
 Boswell’s plan would be impracticable : even in the case of Dr. Johnson 
 it could not be fully carried out ; he knew he was speaking for the public, 
 and was, therefore, circumspect ; thus, in some measure, it might be said 
 of him, that, in the fulness of his sufficiency, he was in straits ; he was 
 ever on his guard, and spoke for the press ; so, many of what were really 
 the most natural points of character, could not be caught.” 
 
 A. — ‘‘Boswell was not, it appears to me, a man of high intellectual 
 endowments.” 
 
 Dr. C. — “ No ; but he had a vast memory, and was almost a wor- 
 shipper of Johnson : then he could follow him without weariness, indeed 
 with perfect admiration, through all his changes of mind, as well as his 
 caprices of temper : hence he was, in many respects, well-fitted for his 
 work.” 
 
 A. — “ I have often wished you had some friend of this sort : there 
 are so many important historical and literary facts, and so much curious 
 incident you are continually telling, that it seems a great pity they should 
 be lost, and very many of these are little known ; most of the anecdotes, 
 indeed, only to yourself.” 
 
 Dr. C . — “ Why, there would be this great difference between the 
 cases of Dr. Johnson and my own, — I never could talk for the press: 
 I could not bind myself down to the plan, which there is no doubt he 
 kept in view, in all his conversations ; especially when in the society of 
 Boswell : yet there are many curious things which will be lost when I 
 am gone ; and many queer ones, too, will be buried with poor Adam.” 
 
 In April of this year. Dr. Clarke went up to London, where he 
 presided on the 25th, at the Annual Missionary Meeting, in City Road 
 Chapel. He made a tour, too, through part of Lancashire, Westmore- 
 land, Scotland, and Ireland, in the months of June and July, in com- 
 pany with some friends. The lakes and the mountains, especially 
 Skiddaw and Helvelyn, among the latter, were objects of unusual 
 interest ; Keudal, Keswick, Penrith, Carlisle, Gretna Green, the birth- 
 place of Burns, &c., all shared in his remarks. They proceeded to Port 
 Patrick, in order to embark for Donaghadee, and arrived at Belfast on 
 the 23rd of June. “ His visit to Belfast,” a friend remarked, who was 
 present on the occasion, “was most seasonable. He attended our love- 
 feast on the Lord’s-day, and spoke his experience with great simplicity, 
 testifying his happy enjoyment of salvation, by faith in the atonement 
 and intercession of our Lord Jesus Christ — of which he felt assured, as 
 well by rational demonstration, as by the witness of the Holy Spirit. On 
 the evening of the same day he addressed an overflowing audience, from 
 Luke vii. 20 — 23, setting forth, in the demonstration of the Spirit, and 
 with power, the glory of Immanuel, God with us, as manifested to the 
 Jewish nation, by the display of his miracles. Next day, we were 
 
PAKT V. — SECTION IV. 
 
 109 
 
 favoured with his company to breakfast, with a number of Christian 
 friends, who were anxious to enjoy the privilege of his conversation.” On 
 leaving Belfast, the Doctor and his friends visited the scenes of early 
 days, Gienarm, Coleraine, Port-Stuart, Garvah, Grove, Maghera, and 
 other places, embraced mostly in the tour of 1811, with a few additional 
 towns and villages. On leaving the north of Ireland, they proceeded to 
 Dublin, where the Doctor attended the Irish Conference, at which he 
 presided ; and whose valuable services are the subject of eulogy in the 
 ‘‘ Address ” of the Irish Conference for the year. 
 
 Some of the descriptions of the wretchedness of the Irish peasantry, 
 whom the Doctor visited in the course of his journey, deeply affected the 
 biographer, when he heard them narrated ; especially the case of a beau- 
 tiful young woman, about eighteen years of age, nursing her first child, 
 in a hut with scarcely any furniture, a little fire on the mud floor, with 
 the daylight shining through the walls, which, in the expressive language 
 of the Doctor, ‘‘ were run up without either sod, mud, or a single table- 
 spoonful of lime, to knit the stones together, or keep out the cold ; ” and, 
 also, the case of Nanny Morray, an old woman, who dwelt in the cleft of 
 a rock, open to the sea, and dripping with wet, whose chief support was 
 the milk of a goat ; a drink of which she gave the visitors, and of which 
 the Doctor was somewhat shy of partaking ; having a prejudice, as he 
 observed, against any milk but that which came from the udder of the 
 cow. The driver of the vehicle, who was standing by, either out of jest, 
 or from an idea that the cave was a suitable place for the concealment of 
 such an article, asked, ‘‘ Why don’t ye giff the gintlemen some whisky ? ” 
 Here the old woman cast a suspicious glance at the Doctor, who had his 
 ink-bottle suspended at his breast, as though a little apprehensive of the 
 presence of an excise officer. His kindness and bounty soon relieved her, 
 while he felt grateful for the opportunity of imparting happiness to a 
 fellow-creature passing her days in a place not fit for the lair even of a 
 brute; without shoes or stockings, a damp bed, and the water oozing 
 through the swamp on the pressure of the foot. 
 
 He was only a short time at home before he had to leave to attend the 
 sittings of the English Conference, held in London. Here he accompanied 
 the remains of his old friend, the Kev. Samuel Bradburn, to the grave, 
 and read the funeral service on the occasion. His views of Mr. Bradburn, 
 as an orator, have been already expressed. It may be added, and this is 
 from the personal knowledge of the biographer, that the whole framework 
 of Mr. Bradburn’s person was noble and commanding : such was the 
 flexibility of muscle which he possessed, that, like Garrick, he could have 
 thrown the various emotions of the soul into every feature of his face : in 
 addition to this advantage he brought to bear, in the more splendid and 
 solemn passages of his discourses, a full, rich, mellow voice ; the effect of 
 which was frequently overwhelming. His genius, too, was of no ordinary 
 
110 
 
 ADAM CLADKE, 
 
 kind : as a speaker, he was what has been said of some writers, too full 
 to be exact; and, therefore, preferred throwing down his pearls in 
 heaps before his auditory, rather than being at the pains of stringing 
 them ; but then, it was here also that his danger lay ; as it occasionally 
 pushed him to extravagance. If the sentiment be correct, that, in 
 oratory, Artis est celare artem^ he exhibited this quality in perfection. 
 There was no appearance of aifectation, — no smell of the lamp, — no 
 rhetorical excursions or flourishes, to supply the place of argument ; he 
 acted as a person who deems it better for a man, as a writer observes, who 
 is doubtful of his pay, to take an ordinary silver piece with its due stamp 
 upon it, than a gilded piece which may perchance contain a baser metal 
 under it, and who prefers a welhfavoured virtuous woman, though with 
 a tawny complexion, before a besmeared and painted face. His eloquence, 
 when at the highest pitch, left scarcely any room for reflection; but 
 addressed itself very often to the imagination and the affections, and at 
 once captivated the heart, while his reasoning subdued the understanding. 
 He scorned the beaten path, and was, as Goldsmith would express him- 
 self — though often to his hurt— “bravely eccentric.” And such is the 
 destiny of men of superior powers, that their genius incessantly exposes 
 them to be the butt of the envenomed darts of calumny and envy. 
 Though Mr. Bradburn’s fine temper very often shielded him from severity, 
 yet he shared the common fate of “ greatness ” — deserved or undeserved — 
 and respecting which the poet of Nature exclaims: — 
 
 “ Millions of false eyes 
 Are struck upon thee! Volunaes of report 
 Run with these false and most contrarious quests 
 Upon thy doings I Thousand ’scapes of wit 
 Make thee the father of their idle dreams, 
 
 And rack thee in their fancies.” 
 
 As life advanced, and eternity dawned upon him, he became more 
 spiritual; and realised the picture of Sir P. Sidney; — “ The great, in 
 afiliction, bear a countenance more princely than they are wont ; for it is 
 the temper of the highest, like the palm-tree, to strive most upwards, 
 when it is most burthened.” 
 
 Everything good and great in man was honoured by Hr. Clarke ; 
 because of the source whence every good and perfect gift flows. Truth, 
 therefore, in every form, received his homage, and was held with the 
 tenacity of life. That he difiered from some of his brethren, and ulti- 
 mately with the Conference, when the controversy became a connexional 
 matter, on one theological subject, at least, is a matter of notoriety ; and, 
 though there is no disposition to enter either into the subtleties of the 
 point in question, or into a detailed history of the debate, yet to pass 
 it over in silence would argue either timidity on the part of the biographer, 
 or unfaithfulness towards the subject of the memoir ; while, to enlarge 
 
PART V. — SECTION IV. 
 
 Ill 
 
 v/ould only be the means of awakening a feeling, v/hich, since it has been 
 hushed to repose for several years, it would be injudicious to disturb. It 
 will be readily perceived, that reference is here made to the doctrine of 
 the Eternal Sonship of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Though 
 the Doctor’s view of the subject was published in 1813, it had excited 
 little attention, (except with a very limited number in social life,) till 
 1815, when a somewhat covert attack was made upon him in the 
 Methodist Magazine^ in the shape of an eulogy upon Dr. Coke. 
 When Mr. Benson threw open the door of that authorised periodical of 
 the body to the opponents of Dr. Clarke, a host of writers rushed in, 
 and kept up a running fire till 1819, when the Conference interfered. 
 Some of the writers were but ill equipped for the fight, being more dis- 
 tinguished for their zeal than for acuteness or profundity; not knowing 
 how much more honourable it is to the head, as well as to the heart, to be 
 misled by eagerness in the pursuit of truth, than to be safe from blun- 
 dering by contempt of it ; but these sharpshooters seemed quite blinded 
 to the fact, that the mind must be in a state insusceptible of knowledge, 
 when there is rather an eagerness felt to detect a possible fallacy, than a 
 sincere wish to discover how much truth there is in a man’s arguments. 
 The ready admission of these papers gave great offence to many, some of 
 whom were not altogether friendly to the Doctor’s views ; several addresses 
 were forwarded to the latter, from Salford, and other societies, some of 
 which were as annoying to him as the attacks : for being a lover of peace, 
 he dreaded anything like angry feeling settling in the breasts of any of 
 the people. Several pamphlets were* also published on both sides, but 
 especially against the view contained in the Doctor’s Notes. With the 
 exception of two or three, they expired with the day. The Conference, 
 as stated, took up the subject, and drew out of it a test for candidateship 
 to the ministry ; maintaining the view opposed to that of the Doctor as 
 its own. The latter stated his opinions in his Notes on Luke i. 35, — con- 
 firmed them in Acts xiii. 32, and Hebrews i. 5, — and defended them at 
 the close of the second chapter of the Epistle to the Hebrews. 
 
 A conversation which Dr. Clarke had with Mr. Wesley on the 
 subject, supports the view taken of it by the Wesleyan Conference. 
 “ On the doctrine of the Eternal Sonship of the Divine Nature of 
 Christ,” he observed, ‘‘I once had the privilege of conversing with 
 Mr. John Wesley, about three years before his death : he read from 
 a book, in which I had written it, the argument against this doctrine ; 
 which now stands in the note on Luke i. 35. He did not attempt to 
 reply to it ; but allowed, that, on the ground on which I had taken it, the 
 argument was conclusive. I observed, that the proper essential Divinity 
 of Jesus Christ appeared to me to be absolutely necessary to the whole 
 Christian scheme, and to the faith of penitent sinners and saints ; that it 
 was of the utmost importance to set it in the clearest and strongest light ; 
 
112 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 and that, with my present conviction, I could not credit it, if I must 
 receive the common doctrine of the Sonship of the Divine nature of our 
 Lord. He mentioned two eminent divines who were of the same opinion ; 
 and added, that the eternal Sonship of Christ had been a doctrine very 
 generally received in the Christian church : and he believed no one had 
 ever expressed it better than his brother Samuel had done in the fol- 
 lowing lines : — 
 
 ‘ From Thee in one eternal now, 
 
 Thy Son, Thy offspring- flow’d ; 
 
 And everlasting Father thou, 
 
 As everlasting God/ 
 
 He added not a word on the subject, nor ever after mentioned it to 
 me, though after that we had many interviews. But it is necessary 
 to mention his own note on the text that had given rise to these observa- 
 tions; which shows that he held the doctrine as commonly received, 
 when he wrote that note : it is as follows — ‘ Thou art my Son ! God of 
 God, Light of Light. This day have I begotten Thee; I have begotten 
 Thee from eternity, which, by its unalterable permanency of duration, 
 is one continued unsuccessive day.’ Leaving the point in dispute out 
 of the question, this is most beautifully expressed; and I know not 
 that this great man ever altered his opinion. However necessary this 
 view of the subject may appear to me, I do not presume to say that 
 others, in order to be saved, must see it in the same light : on such a 
 point, it is necessary that every man should be clear in his own mind, 
 and satisfied in his own conscience. Any opinion of mine, my readers 
 are at perfect liberty to receive or reject. I never claimed infallibility ; 1 
 say with St. Augustin, ^ Errare possum ; hoereticus esse noloJ' Kefined 
 Arians, with some of w^hom I am personally acquainted, are quite willing 
 to receive all that can be said of the dignity and glory of Christ’s nature, 
 provided we admit the doctrine of the eternal Sonship, and omit the word 
 ‘ unoriginated ; ’ which I have used in my demonstration of the Godhearl 
 of the Saviour of men ; but, as far as it respects myself, I can neither 
 admit the one, nor omit the other. The proper essential Godhead of 
 Christ lies deep at the foundation of my Christian creed ; and I must 
 sacrifice ten thousand forms of speech rather than sacrifice the thing. 
 My opinion has not been formed on slight examination.” 
 
 The controversy, it may be observed, in which Dr. Clarke took no 
 share, in any separate form, was chiefly confined to the Wesleyan body. 
 One of the best papers on the subject, published in the Magazine, thougli 
 not written professedly in reference to the dispute, was a brief extract 
 from the Biblical Magazine of 1801, under the signature of Gaius ; and 
 evidently the production of the Rev. Andrew F uller. 
 
 Though copies of some of the addresses to the Doctor are in the 
 possession of the biographer, together with their replies, and also the 
 
FART V.— SECTION IV. 
 
 m 
 
 letters which passed between him and the President of the Conference of 
 1819, with lengthened conversations on the subject ; it would be difficult 
 for even a friend to give the feelings of the inner-man on this occasion^ 
 and still more difficult for a stranger to trace the links composing the 
 chain which held Dr. Clarke bound to the Wesleyan body, in the 
 midst of what he felt to be persecutions,* when such a host was arrayed 
 against him: it was not accident, — nor was it rule, — nor even the 
 influence of long and early association. We must look for the profound 
 reason in the force of those high moral principles which actuated his 
 whole conduct — that exalted tone of feeling which led him to abide, 
 through evil report, and good report, by that religious sect which had 
 been the object of his deliberate choice, and which, in itself, he believed 
 to be the most useful of the numerous sections into which the church was 
 divided. Indeed, upon one occasion, being unusually pained by an 
 unworthy attack made upon him, he observed to his eldest daughter, — 
 “ Well, thank God, this is not Methodism, but its abuse : they bring 
 their horse and foot into the field against me. Had I been without 
 influence, and without a morsel of bread, I should have been sacrificed ; 
 to destroy the former they have for years been publishing incessant 
 sly calumnies. Through God’s mercy I stood — most of their darts fell 
 short of their mark ; — the rest flew over my head ; ” and then, with 
 deepened emotion, he added, — “ For nearly fifty years I have lived only 
 for the support and credit of Methodism ; myself and my interests, 
 the Searcher of hearts knows, were never objects of my attention. I 
 came into the Connexion with an upright heart, and one dominant 
 principle ; and, by the help of God, I will retain both to the end.” Here, 
 then, was the sublime secret of his strength ; it enabled him to endure and 
 rise above all, and to act toward the many as he carried himself toward 
 the individual : he heaped coals of fire upon their heads, by embracing 
 every opportunity of doing them service; a method which never fails, 
 provided there be any emotion left upon which kindness can be exercised. 
 
 Upon being elected the third time to the presidental chair, he 
 examined the young men on the subject, who were to be received into 
 full connexion, and discharged his duty with the greatest fidelity and 
 affection ; saying, — “ I must examine you on the subject of the Eternal 
 Sonship of Jesus Christ ; and, in this, I shall be honest : as a private 
 individual, I hold a different opinion to that of the body ; but I have 
 nothing to do with it here: it is my place to examine you Methodis- 
 tically, and as President of the Conference; and although I cannot 
 condemn you in my private capacity, yet, as President, I neither can nor 
 will pass any one of you, unless you are Methodistic in your creed : the 
 Conference may pass you, but I cannot.” He added, I feel for you all, 
 as if you were my own children: I deeply sympathise with you.” On 
 
 * See Appendix, No. 2, “Treatment of Dr. A. Clarke.” 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 I 
 
114 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 finding them all correct, and passing them, he said, — “I would not 
 go through what I have suffered the last two days on your account, for a 
 great deal : now, I am free and satisfied.” 
 
 In the midst of all, however, the Doctor became increasingly popular ; 
 and the Methodist Magazine itself was made the vehicle of eulogy : “To 
 a young preacher, who signs himself — ‘ An earnest Inquirer after Truth,’ 
 we recommend a careful perusal of Wesley’s, Fletcher’s, and Sellon’s 
 works; together with the Commentaries of Coke, Benson, and Clarke.” 
 See 1816, p. 788. It might have been deemed affectation for Mr. 
 Benson, the editor, to have omitted himself. 
 
 In these Notes, not only are tlieological subjects placed luminously 
 and forcibly before the Biblical student ; but every available opportunity 
 is embraced, for removing the ground from beneath the foot of the 
 infidel. Speaking on this latter sulyect, in reference to Taylor, Carlisle, 
 and others, he quoted that passage in the Psalms, — “ He that sitteth 
 in the heavens shall laugh them to scorn ; the Lord shall have them 
 in derision:” and then remarked, “I say this with the flame of God’s 
 eye upon my soul: He will laugh them to scorn, and He will hold them 
 in derision ; yes, if ever that passage was employed by the ever-blessed 
 God, by way of taunt, it must be in such a case as this:’’ repeating, 
 “ ‘He will laugh them to scorn.’ ” A person belonging to this school, 
 accidentally met with the Doctor, when this position was laid down : — 
 “ That either the apostles misunderstood our Lord, or that we misunder- 
 stand them, when they attribute the redemption of the world to his 
 sufferings and death.” The principal line of argument pursued by the 
 Doctor was, of course, in favour of a proper understanding ; in process of 
 which, he answered the hackneyed objection brought against the justice 
 of God, in punishing the innocent for the guilty ; — an objection which 
 courts support from the well-regulated laws of civil society, in which 
 are found various enactments, and multitudinous provisions, in order to 
 prevent the innocent from suffering for the guilty, — closing with the 
 whole being foreign to all the principles both of justice and humanity. 
 A believer in Divine revelation will find a solution of the difficulty 
 in the fact of our Lord having been a volunteer in the cause of suffering : 
 he had power to lay down his life, and power to take it up again ; and 
 ill this we see the virtue and value of his sufferings. Had his sufferings 
 been compulsory, then the objection would have some weight : but when 
 fie died, fie did not die from necessity of condition, but dispensation 
 of grace. “They spake of his decease, which he should accomplish at 
 Jerusalem.” The word “accomplish” is not passive but active; de- 
 noting that death was not so much inflicted upon him, as suffered 
 by him. But we are wandering from the Doctor : his writings, and 
 especially a sermon on Luke xxiv. 46 — 48, in which he afterwards took 
 up the subject, will be found to speak explicitly on this point. 
 
PART V. — SECTION IV. 
 
 115 
 
 Anxious to meet not only the wants of the heathen, but the rising 
 and expansive spirit of benevolence at home, he continued to let himself 
 out more freely than his physical strength, and other engagements, 
 warranted, in attending Bible and Missionary Meetings. Some of the 
 latter, at which the writer had the happiness of being present, as at 
 Manchester, Liverpool, Warrington, &c., are still vividly present in the 
 recollection, though thirty years have since then elapsed. At the first 
 ^Missionary Meeting held in Liverpool, the Doctor presided : one of the 
 speakers, who afterwards became very popular upon the platform, apolo- 
 gised for having to speak before him, alluding in a somewhat fulsome 
 manner to his learning and titles, when the Doctor turned to him and 
 s aid, “ Sir, you have been pleased to allude to my titles, and to lay some 
 stress upon them : you are welcome to the whole ; they have never been 
 '.vorth sixpence to me.” Previously to one of the meetings held at War- 
 rington, he occupied the pulpit. The orator, in the strictest sense, was 
 not there ; and yet there was an oratory which was the preacher’s own, — 
 a something which never could have been acquired by art, enchanting to 
 the hearer, and peculiar to himself: some of his etymological criticisms 
 might not meet every mind — such especially as old prejudices required to 
 be uprooted from ; but his conceptions were always clear, the lucidus ordo 
 was complete, and an unction attended the word throughout, which was 
 striking and impressive ; the whole place, to borrow the language of the 
 upper regions, seemed celestialised, and the atmosphere itself appeared as 
 though it had undergone a kind of chemical process, which enabled the 
 audience to breathe of nothing but heaven ! 
 
 Being appointed to preside at the Irish Conference of this year (1816,) 
 lie found it necessary, on account of the disturbed state of the Societies 
 on the question of the Lord’s Supper, to bring into exercise all the 
 wisdom, experience, forbearance, and fortitude, he possessed, for the occa- 
 sion ; and owing to the important services he rendered, and the deep 
 interest which the Societies had in the question, as to its final issue, as 
 well as the fact of the struggle becoming, in all probability, a matter of 
 history, it may be necessary to dwell upon the subject more at large. A 
 letter of intimidation was sent into the Conference from Saurin, the 
 Attorney- General, on the subject of Chapel Trusts, and a similar docu- 
 ment embodying the threatenings of certain trustees. On these, the 
 Doctor relieved the minds of the brethren from much anxiety, by entering 
 into the connection which subsisted between the Irish and British Con- 
 ference.* Several of the preachers, having administered the sacrament, 
 
 * In a letter from the Doctor, after the succeeding British Conference, he remarked 
 to a friend ; “ So variously are your Chapels settled, that no case could be made out that 
 could take in the several trusts in your deeds, leases, &c. You should not, therefore, 
 have expected the English Conference to obtain you any opinion on this head. The 
 matter is exceedingly short in law. Every trust is sacred; and as the trust, so will be 
 the decision in any court ... If, on the examination of your deeds, you find that 
 
 I 2 
 
IIG 
 
 ADAM CLAKKE. 
 
 at the urgent request of the people, were arraigned at the bar of ihe 
 Conference on a violation of its rule, and for that violation were repre- 
 hended; a full account of which may be seen in “A Biographical 
 N"arrative of Matthew Langtree, written by himself,” he being one of the 
 parties impeached. A pacific Committee, however, was appointed ; and, 
 though considerable difficulty was felt in coming to a conclusion, it v/as 
 at length agreed by a majority, That something must be done to meet 
 the spiritual wants of our people, and it must be done noiv ; ” — a decision 
 which must have taken off a considerable portion of the edge of the 
 censure, since it admitted at once the necessity of a change, owing to 
 which necessity the brethren were driven to the line of conduct which 
 they pursued. A long debate succeeded, both on the trial and the report, 
 in the course of which several of the preachers delivered their sentiments. 
 Among the more prominent, were Messrs. Averell and Tobias, who were 
 opposed to each other. Several petitions were lying on the table, re- 
 questing the administration of the Lord’s Supper ; and' on the motion 
 being called for, the votes for granting the prayer of the petitioners were 
 sixty-two, against it twenty-six : — this majority being no small compli- 
 ment to the brethren under censure, — apart, as it was, from premature 
 administration, which involved the violation of rule. 
 
 The Doctor, through the whole of the debate,— one of the moht 
 important that had ever engaged the Irish Conference, — displayed the 
 greatest fidelity and impartiality ; and when the question was decided, he 
 is said to have appeared even more than himself. In a speech of two 
 hours’ length, he, as Representative of the British Conference, addressed 
 the brethren in the most impressive manner, at the close of which he 
 received a unanimous vote of thanks. A mere outline of this address is 
 all that can be admitted here. He observed, — 
 
 1. “Mr. Wesley had no plan, except that of foJloiving the openings 
 of Providence : had he followed a plan, it would have been the creature of 
 man, not of God. He acted as he believed God s Spirit dictated. Our 
 doctrine is from the revelation of God. Mr. Wesley was a great instru- 
 ment, in the hands of Providence, of reviving and spreading scriptural 
 Christianity in the world ; but it is from the Head of the Church, that 
 our doctrines have, through him, been committed to us, and they go 
 through our whole economy. 
 
 2. “Mr. Wesley, in following providence, and the order of God, was 
 compelled to do many things opposed to his prejudices^ — these, I well 
 know, were of the high-church character. I have full evidence of this, 
 
 neither preaching in Church hours, the Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper, &c., are 
 proscribed,; and that there are no conditions specified relative to such uses of the chapels, 
 then no trustee can legally shut them up. A trustee can only plead on a breach of the 
 tru^t : and he, as guardian, may interfere to prevent the premises from being alienated 
 from their original purpose. Saurin, therefore, is not right : it is the trust clause, 
 alone, that determines concerning the uses of the chapel.” 
 
PART V. — SECTION ly. 
 
 117 
 
 from being in possession of the original papers sent by Mr. Wesley’s 
 father to Archbishop Sharp, and am well acquainted with the Wesley 
 Family, and the education given to Mr. John Wesley. Besides, 
 (pleasantly,) I was one of what was called Mr. Wesley’s privy council, 
 and am therefore well acquainted with his mind on the most important 
 subjects. It was according to his great principle of action, that Mr. 
 Wesley ordained Dr. Coke for America, as he did others for Scotland. 
 He foresaw that the Methodists should be a great people, and therefore 
 ordained several preachers to keep up the spirit of the Church of England : 
 but providence never intended that any individual should be a successor to 
 Mr. Wesley. When he died. Dr. Coke came to Dublin, to put himself at 
 the head of the Irish Methodists, but he (Adam Clarke) being then in Dub- 
 lin, opposed it, and dismissed the Doctor as fast as he came. On the same 
 subject, there was, in England, a competition between Dr. Coke and Mr. 
 Mather, which was over-ruled by the appointment of district meetings. 
 
 3. “ With regard to the introduction of the ordinances, I believe it 
 originated in the demands of the people — they urge them at the British 
 Conference. By not attending to their earnest entreaties, we sacrificed 
 the lovely Society at Chester ; and for the same reasons was the church 
 service, which Mr. Wesley appointed to be used at Whitefriar Street, laid 
 aside at his death. I have been as much prejudiced as Adam Aver ell ; 
 but I had to submit to the force of truth. In England, we were pushed 
 to the greatest extremities. In the Conference of 1792, the brethren were 
 so perplexed, that, for the sake of peace, they agreed to decide the ques- 
 tion by lot. That year they lost 300 members ; the next year, they said, 
 they could not proceed thus ; and though they were surrounded by men 
 who came to the Conference with good temper, but opposed to innovation, 
 yet they agreed to the Plan of Pacification, and the consequences were 
 blessed beyond their expectation.” 
 
 4. Adverting, after this, to a reflection of Mr. AverelFs on the religious 
 state of the body, to the opportunities with which he had been favoured 
 of becoming fully acquainted with the state of Methodism, compared with 
 earlier times, and of course, his competency to judge of its spirituality 
 and prosperity, he proceeded, “I have been twice President of the British 
 Conference ; I was so at the grand cltmacterical year of Metho- 
 dism, at which time all its great offices were in my hands. I had access 
 to Government ; knew its sentiments of Methodism, and had full evidence 
 that it had not lost its character or influence. I have met more classes 
 in my circuit than any other man, and have seen no loss of spirituality. 
 I will not make invidious comparisons between the Methodists in England 
 and Ireland ; in both, they are the children of my God and Father ; but 
 this, I will say, from perfect acquaintance with the subject, that they have 
 in England, comparatively, more grace, and more stability, since the 
 introduction of the sacrament than before.” 
 
118 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 5. He concluded by refuting the calumny against the character of the 
 preachers — from his own knowledge, and from the judgment of Govern- 
 ment, stating, — “I have had access to the inmost archives of the State,, 
 where their characters were properly appreciated. I have had a par- 
 ticular conversation with Lord Sidmouth and Mr. Percival, in which they 
 spoke most honourably of the utility of the Irish preachers in the time of 
 the rebellion. It is well known they have been bulwarks to the church 
 against the attacks of Popery, and other enemies,” &c. 
 
 A letter to a friend previously to the Conference, which it was>, 
 scarcely proper to anticipate, will show his mind a little more fully on 
 different points, and especially on the main question : — 
 
 My dear Brother, — About ten minutes ago I received your letter, 
 dated May 21, and had been, a little time before, resolving to write to^ 
 you. The Dublin brethren did not honour me with their letter ; but I 
 
 saw that of the trustees and Mr. in a friend’s hand. I was not 
 
 a little pained at both. Either the writers were ignorant of the truth, or 
 they disguised it. If ignorant, they should not have written on the sub- 
 ject ; if they knew better, they must answer it to God, and his injured cause. 
 
 I know Methodism better than any man in Ireland, and better than 
 any correspondent the Dublin people can boast ; and I can say that our 
 having preaching in church hours, and the sacraments from the hands of 
 our own preachers, have been marked by the most distinguished appro- 
 bation of God. And I’ll tell you what to these gentlemen seems to be a 
 secret, that the Methodists in England are a thousand times more 
 attached to the Church of England and her service, than they ever were 
 before; and the method which we were before taking to drive them x.> 
 the church, was driving them, as it is now doing the Methodists of 
 Ireland, into dissenting congregations. 
 
 I am now one of the oldest preachers in the British connexion, an i 
 have had the principal concerns of this connexion before me, for betwecit 
 thirty and forty years; often, indeed, the administration of their 
 weightiest concerns. I have been a medium of intercourse between them 
 and the Government, and can say, that, they never stood so high with 
 Government, never so high with real churchmen, and were never so- 
 prosperous, as they are now. Far from there being a wall between us 
 and our usefulness to the church, I can say that the wall which our own 
 bigotry once raised, similar to that which foolish people are now raising 
 among you, has been, by the goodness of God, levelled to the ground, and 
 our usefulness to the church is greater than ever. 
 
 When we had no service in church hours, nor sacrament from our 
 preachers, we crept on as we could. At length the people in many places 
 clamoured, and we were obliged to grant the sacrament in a few cases, or 
 lose the Societies : as more requested the same blessing, certain trustees, 
 
PART V. — SECTION IV. 
 
 119 - 
 
 who had got some good bigoted men to join them, cried out innovation^ 
 and were impious enough to predict (because of their caprices) the ruin of 
 the work of God. We then, by lot, determined that the sacrament 
 should not be administered for one year in any place. On this God 
 frowned most fearfully : from the commencement of Methodism till that 
 time, we had always been on the increase. In that awful year, and 
 thank God there is only that one in the annals of Methodism, we not 
 only gained none, but we decreased three hundred members ! The next 
 year the sacrament w^as allowed, under certain restrictions, and we had 
 four thousand of increase ; and from that day to the present, we have 
 been increasing from four to ten or twelve thousand annually ! And let 
 me tell those persons who pretend to be so very wise in this business, that 
 Methodism has more solidity^ more consistency^ more rational yodliness^ 
 and more of the life of God, than it ever had in former times. In the 
 teeth of a false assertion contained in one of your circulars, I say, that 
 owing to this vile bigotry, Methodism has made no proportionate pro- 
 gress in Ireland. 
 
 You have a body of holy and sensible men for your preachers ; and 
 these men have had both their prayers and their labours hindered. For 
 my own part, I have made up my mind never to witness the disgrace of 
 my country, while it continues under the anti-christian yoke : this alone 
 has caused me to refuse the honour done to me by my brethren. They 
 have it now in their power to throw off this yoke ; if they do it, they will 
 soon have such blessings as they never before experienced ; but let every- 
 thing be done in the spirit of Christ. 
 
 The Doctor, who loved peace, and whose intention it was, as will have 
 been seen, not to attend the Irish Conference, was overruled , and it was 
 fortunate this was ^the case, from ihe manner in which the business of 
 Conference was conducted. Remarking on his passage from Ireland to 
 Holyhead, he said, “ It w^as short but rough ; the sea wrought through the 
 whole of the night, and it was very tempestuous ; nearly all on board were 
 sick, except myself, who bore up pretty well ; we landed after four a.m.” 
 
 The ultra party being dissatisfied with the decision of the Conference, 
 and the brethren being pressed with various difhculties respecting the 
 chapels, the Doctor was consulted ; and his closing paragraph on the 
 subject of the Lord’s Supper, may here be introduced : My advice to 
 
 you all is, look up to God, and keep close together ; never think of 
 measuring back your steps to trustee-craft again. Give up the Sacra- 
 ment of the Lord’s Supper when you go to drink the new wine in the 
 kingdom of God. Let neither fear nor flattery induce you to it one 
 moment sooner. Had you had it twenty years ago, you would have been 
 doubly more numerous and doubly more holy. God has broken your 
 chain; if you heal it, or suffer others to do so, you will have his curse and 
 
120 
 
 ADAM CLARKE, 
 
 not his blessing. If the genuine Methodists of Ireland stand fast in their 
 fiery trial, God will make you both great and glorious : — Look for your help 
 from Him : do not suppose that any man’s money is necessary to the sup- 
 port of Christ’s cause : — ‘ The earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof.’ ” 
 
 These religious dissensions occasioned him much pain of mind. “ The 
 conduct of these chapel-shutters,” said he, “is unchristian. To take 
 away the chapels from the people, is to deprive them of the word ; and to 
 deprive the preachers, their wives, and their children of bread.” He 
 gloried in the stand which English Preachers made against the Anti- 
 Sacramentarians ; and styled the plan adopted by the Irish dissentients, 
 “ The Starvation Plan ; ” bitterly complaining of the delay of the law- 
 suit relative to the chapels, and expressing a hope that he would be pre- 
 served from Irish law. When the suit was gained, he trusted that it 
 'would be a salutary lesson to the persecutors. 
 
 There was a scrupulosity and nobility of soul in the Doctor, which in 
 others — good men too — would have slumbered, though placed in similar 
 circumstances. As he could not endure to eat the bread of idleness, so 
 when even engaged in hard labour, he hesitated, and even refused to take 
 anything, except for the identical work in which he was engaged. During 
 the present appointment, his quarterage was sent to Millbrook ; he how- 
 ever returned it, stating that he did not consider himself as having 
 laboured for it, and therefore could not conscientiously take it. Though 
 this may, and ought to tell its tale in certain quarters, still, it is our 
 opinion that Dr. Clarke erred in this ; for, in addition to his attending 
 to the general interests of Methodism in the Connexional Committees, 
 preaching occasional sermons, assisting in Missionary Meetings, &c., he 
 was regularly stationed on the circuit by the Conference, and paid his 
 monthly visits agreeably to previous arrangement and engagement, which, 
 with his other labours, was as much as his health would admit. Let this be 
 brought to bear upon the preachers who have young men appointed to assist 
 them, and what will be the result ? Let Dr. Bunting answer the question. 
 
 Though entirely indifferent to the current coin of the day, his eye 
 shone out with more than usual brilliancy, on the sight of coins and 
 medals of ancient date: he had one in his collection upon which he set a 
 high value : it was a beautiful coin, bearing a representation of the head 
 of our Lord ; with this inscription — “Jesus of Nazareth — Jehovah 
 AND Man united ; ” having one peculiarity, viz. that Jesus was written 
 with the which the Jews avoided, and which would have been to 
 constitute him a Saviour, which they denied, holding him in utter abhor- 
 rence. He also had a Hebrew Medal, which he much prized, struck off 
 apparently about the same time. His knowledge of coins was as curious, 
 correct, and extensive, as his passion was strong : taking them on his way 
 to History, as a key, which unlocked not a few of its secrets and its 
 triumphs. 
 
PAET VI. 
 
 SECTION L— 1817. 
 
 “I call Mm a wise man, whose knowledge is rich and varied ; —digested and com- 
 bined;— and pervaded, through and through, by the light of the Spirit of God.”— 
 Altered from Da. Arnold. 
 
 “ From Sextus, and from the contemplation of his character, I learned what it was 
 to live a life in harmony with Nature ; and that seemliness and dignity of deportment, 
 which ensured the profoundest reverence, at the very same time that Ms company was 
 more winning than all the flattery in the world : of all his attractions he set the least 
 value on the multiplicity of his literary acquirements.”— Translated from M. Antoninus, 
 by Coleridge. 
 
 “ Not only — ^unlike many, who, in the ‘ warm beams and sunshine,’ cast off their 
 innocence, as the traveller, in the fable, his cloak— did he hold fast his integrity, but he 
 manifested that weanedness from the world, and indifference to its trifling vanities, 
 wMch must of necessity be enumerated among the surest proofs of godliness. The 
 lowliness of his mind, instead of being diminished, seems to have been increased with 
 the accumulation of honour; and riches, used by him with the moderation which is 
 divinely enjoined, so far from being trusted in, gave frequency and solemnity to his 
 anticipations of a final account.” — Williams’s Life of Sir M. Hale. 
 
 It is curious to find, that while the zest with which Dr. Clarke pur- 
 sued his different studies continued, and the affection which he had for 
 different places, persons, and things, was retained and even augmented in 
 its force, his antipathies gathered strength in the same way. Dining with 
 a friend, at whose table a roast pig was the bottom dish, and being re- 
 quested to say grace, he rose from his seat, and spreading abroad his hands 
 invoked a general blessing ; then, as if to save his credit for consistency, 
 singling out the obnoxious article, added, — “ And if thou, O Lord, canst 
 bless under the gospel, what thou hast cursed under the law, bless also 
 this pig.” It required no ordinary command of muscle to look grave on 
 the occasion. The writer being assisted to a little ham by him, on another 
 occasion, quietly asked, how he could help another to that which he 
 deemed pernicious : ‘‘ There is no law in this land,” he returned smartly, 
 “ to prevent a man from eating swine’s flesh should he be so disposed.” 
 
 In the course of 1817, he opened a Wesleyan chapel in Lichfield, 
 which was the first place of worship of any magnitude the Methodists had 
 in the town. It brought to his recollection earlier days, and ‘‘ troublous 
 times,” when, on the division occasioned by Mr. Kilham, he met in solemn 
 conclave with Messrs. Mather, Pawson, Rogers, Dr. Coke, Bradburn, 
 Moore, and T. Taylor, to deliberate on the affairs of the connexion. He 
 
122 
 
 ADAM CLAEKE. 
 
 now had a private house to go to, instead of an inn, and was accompanied 
 by Mrs. Clarke. The contrast produced a joyousness of heart, wdnch 
 made him next to playful in the social circle, while his state of mind fitted 
 him more fully for entering into feelings of a literary character, in visiting 
 the birth-place of Dr. Samuel Johnson, — a man, who, like himself, from 
 not one of the most auspicious outsets in life, had worked his way up, 
 through the strength of his own intellectual character, to some of the 
 highest Alps in the republic of letters. 
 
 The good friends in Hull had long entertained an ardent desire to have 
 a visit from the Doctor ; and in the December of 1817, he complied with 
 their request. He was accompanied by a friend ; and while journeying 
 toward the place, one of their subjects of conversation was, the circum- 
 stances in which those religious persons are placed, who are obliged to 
 pursue their business by frequent journeys both by sea and land, in which 
 all privacy is precluded; and where, consequently, that daily walk which 
 a Christian should observe towards his Maker, is often so unavoidably 
 interrupted, that it is next to impossible to have a recollected mind, or a 
 heart regularly turned to God by prayer and meditation. In discussing 
 the subject they agreed, that to have a solemn form of well-chosen words, 
 by which the mind could fully express itself in reference to its circum- 
 stances, without the labour of looking for suitable expressions, would be 
 of great utility ; — and the third Collect for Grace, in the Liturgy of the 
 Church of England, appeared to contain both the ideas and words, which, 
 above all others, were best adapted to such occasions ; and in which every 
 Christian heart could join. On this account, he termed the Collect, 
 “ The Traveller’s Prayer ; ” and then formed the resolution, on the event 
 of commanding sufficient time, to write a short discourse upon it, not 
 only with the view of recommending such a suitable and comprehensive 
 form for the purpose, but also to explain the import and force of each ex- 
 pression, that the person who should use it in such pilgrimage, might have 
 the full benefit, by praying not only with the spirit, but with the under- 
 standing also. His purpose however, remained unfulfilled, till August, 
 1828, on his return from the Zetland Isles, in the circumnavigation of the 
 entire group of which, the biographer had the pleasure of accompanying 
 him. The fatigues of this voyage, and a long land journey, gave new 
 vigour to his purpose ; and one day’s repose furnished him with an oppor- 
 tunity of composing this very useful and ingenious discourse. 
 
 While in Hull, he domiciled with Mr. Robert Garbutt ; and during 
 his sojourn there, a native of Turkey, who could not render himself 
 sufficiently intelligible in English, was introduced to him by some friends, 
 who were anxious to know something of his personal history, and the object 
 of his visit to England. The Doctor proposed some questions to him in the 
 Persic and Arabic languages, but found him somewhat taciturn, — ascertain - 
 ing sufficient, however, to understand, that a little pecuniary aid would 
 
PART VI. — SECTION I. 
 
 \2S- 
 
 not be unacceptable. * The ministry of the Doctor was highly appreciated, 
 and the collections made on the occasion, greatly aided the fund of the 
 School. He had been in quest some time of the beautifully twisted horns 
 of the Narwal, commonly called the Sea-Unicorn — the Monodon mono- 
 cercGS of Linnaeus,, for the purpose of forming two posts for a bedstead^ 
 and was fortunate enough to secure one in the course of his visit. He 
 left a commission with the writer to secure a fellow for it ; but it was not 
 till some years after he was laid at rest in the tomb, that the writer met 
 with an entire bed, supported by a handsome pair, beautiful as the ivory 
 from the tusk of the elephant, and nearly six feet in length, exclusive of 
 the sockets ; — a purchase preserved not only as a rarity, but in memory of 
 him, who otherwise would have had the offer of it for acceptance. 
 
 Having to make a collection for the schools in Bridgewater Street 
 Chapel, Manchester, he took occasion to animadvert on a practice which 
 we consider to be, at least of very questionable utility : toward the 
 close of the sermon he paused; and looking at the seats appropriated 
 to the poor, observed, with evidently painful feeling, — “ I am sorry to 
 see the poor’s seats so comparatively unoccupied ; and it will ever be so> 
 while you have that theatrical custom of taking money at the doors ; 
 you would have had a better collection without it : and I add, so long 
 as this is done, you will never see Adam Clarke here again.” He waa 
 extremely tender of the poor, and was jealous of any encroachment upon 
 their freedom — a freedom chartered by God himself : “ The poor have 
 the gospel preached unto them.” 
 
 In the month of February, 1818, the Doctor proceeded to Oxford, 
 in company v/ith Mrs. Clarke and two friends, in order to fulfil his 
 promise of taking a part in the opening services of a new Wesleyan 
 chapel in that city. When within a couple of stages of its destination, 
 a young lady rode up to the coach attended by her servant, and begged 
 to know, as it was raining, whether she could be accommodated with a 
 seat ; although the vehicle had its full complement, the party cheerfully 
 acquiesced in the lady’s wish, who was soon comfortably seated between 
 the two gentlemen, and opposite to the Doctor and Mrs. Clarke. 
 Finding the company communicative, she felt disposed to improve the- 
 
 * The Mohamedan’s taciturnity seemed to arise from timidity and distrust, lest he 
 should let out more than was compatible with personal safety ; being totally ignorant 
 of the character of the Doctor, and the designs of tbe persons who introduced him to- 
 Ms mjtice; and besides, his language was not the pure Arabic, but rather of a mixed 
 character. To this corruption the Doctor refers to his son-in-law, Mr. Hook, in another 
 case : “ Any book written in the African Nusk, like that which you have forwarded for 
 my inspection, can easily be read by any European who understands the Arabic. But 
 I know from long experience, that the African Mohamedans have scarcely any works- 
 among them worthy notice. The Koran, some lives and sayings of their saints, a very 
 few Tareechs, and some works on Judicial Astrology, are the chief I have ever seen 
 from that quarter : and they are the worst writers of Arabic in the world. To form a. 
 collection of such MSS., would never defray the cost and trouble of making it.” 
 
124 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 opportunity, and having ascertained they were all going to Oxford, and 
 likely to remain a few days there, she told them she was going to attend 
 the opening services of the new Wesleyan chapel, although not herself 
 a Wesleyan, and importuned them, as they might not be favoured with 
 such an opportunity again, to go and hear the celebrated ministers who 
 were engaged for the occasion; “but especially,” she added, looking 
 across at the Doctor, “I should like you. Sir, and your lady, to hear 
 the celebrated Dr. Adam Clarke; I do not know that gentleman 
 myself, and have understood that he is by no means so eloquent an 
 orator as Mr. Watson ; indeed, that he is, in his style of preaching, a 
 very plain man ; yet he is a man highly distinguished for learning, and 
 other great attainments, and I dare say will preach a most excellent 
 sermon, therefore I should much wish you to hear him.” By this time the 
 Doctor’s friends were nearly convulsed with irrepressible mirth ; upon 
 perceiving which, she said, — “ Gentlemen, you may make yourselves 
 merry if you please, but I am at a loss to know what portion of my 
 conversation can possibly have created so much levity ; I do not believe 
 either of you will go, but I think (bowing courteously to her opposite 
 neighbours) this lady and gentleman will ; — may I not hope, madam, 
 I have prevailed with you?” Mrs. Clarke said, “I think you will see 
 us both there ; and will you promise, if we comply with your wish, 
 that you will come and speak to me at the conclusion of the service ? ” 
 — the thing was agreed, and the conversation then turned upon the days 
 in which the Papal persecutions consigned men to the stake for their reli- 
 gious faith. “ Ah, yes ! ” ejaculated the young lady, “ these were indeed 
 times of trial ! I wonder whether ^ue could burn for our religion. 
 You know of course. Sir,” addressing the Doctor, “ that Oxford claims 
 two celebrated martyrs.” The travellers were now in the renowned seat 
 of learning ; and once more reminding Mrs. Clarke of her promise, they 
 shook hands and separated. The next day found Mrs. Clarke and 
 
 Miss , side by side, (though of course accidentally) in the new 
 
 chapel, and the two friends seated just behind them ; she bowed to Mrs. 
 Clarke, thanked her for coming, and said, — “ but indeed, from the beha- 
 viour of your friends yesterday, I certainly did not expect they would 
 have been here.” At length Dr. Clarke ascended the pulpit stairs ; — 
 
 let the condition of Miss be imagined : she looked at Mrs. Clarke in 
 
 speechless agony, and unutterable dismay, for a second, then burst into 
 tears and said, — “ That was too bad Mrs. Clarke, too bad ! ” But the 
 poor girl’s trials on the occasion, did not end here : IMr. Watson, having 
 heard the affair narrated with great glee by the Doctor’s friends at 
 a dinner table, related it to a large party who took tea at the house 
 in which he was entertained on the occasion ; expatiating with consider- 
 able naivete upon the singularity of the case, and the probable feeling of 
 the young lady on recognising the Doctor in the pulpit : he was listened 
 
PART VI. — .SKCTIOX I. 
 
 125 
 
 to, of course, -with great delight by the major part of the company ; — but 
 one sat there, who was mute as the skeleton of the Egyptian feast — 
 it was the heroine of the tale ! Dr. Clarke hearing of this, wrote 
 an affectionate letter to her, fearing lest the adventure should have 
 an unhappy effect upon her ingenuous mind ; and as in the interim.^ 
 he had learned her history and family connections, gave her a kind invita- 
 tion to Heydon Hall ; an invitation accepted during a visit paid by the 
 writer to the same hospitable mansion, when an opportunity was afforded 
 of having the entire narrative, fresh and glowing from the lips of Miss 
 C herself. 
 
 The Doctor’s opening sermon on the Thursday forenoon, was remark- 
 ably plain and simple, and only about half an hour in length. This 
 might be partly accounted for, from the circumstance of having had his 
 mind somewhat disconcerted by the singers ; who, in opposition to an 
 expressed wish, resolved to sing a piece before the sermon. The next 
 evening, however, (Friday the 10th,) he amply compensated : the dis- 
 course, on the testimony of the Rev. Daniel Walton, a very competent 
 judge, being one of the most extraordinary he had ever heard the Doctor 
 deliver : his first text was selected from the Epistle to the Hebrews, the 
 second from Psalm Ixxxix. 15, 16. 
 
 One, of a party invited to meet the Doctor while in Oxford, and who 
 was a preacher, was an incorrigible smoker. This gentleman stole down- 
 stairs to enjoy himself, placing the pipe-head and his mouth, as much 
 within the range of the fire-place as the heat would allow, in order 
 to prevent the tobacco fumes from ascending to the higher part of 
 the house. But the Doctor’s scent was too keen on this subject to admit 
 of escape ; and like a vision, he soon stood in the kitchen revealed before 
 the eye of the reverend gentleman. ‘‘ Brother A.,” said he, “you are 
 killing yourself ; my father killed himself with smoking.” Though taken 
 by surprise at first, Mr. A. soon rallied, and finding that a little hardihood 
 would serve his purpose better than timidity or confession, he replied, — 
 “ We are opposed to each other on this subject. Dr. Clarke: the pipe 
 does me good, and my father died of constipation of the bowels because 
 he could not learn to smoke.” 
 
 This year the Chapel Fund was instituted, which is one illustration 
 among many others, of the varied movements to which the system of the 
 Wesleyan body is propelled by the principle of Christianity, to bear 
 on the outfield population. This fund Dr. Clarke justly classed 
 “ among the many improvements which have been made of late years in 
 the external economy of Methodism.” His sentiments, — that “ it is a 
 great charity to build chapels for the accommodation of the poor,” may 
 be subscribed to, with equal cordiality. It would be a serious omission, 
 while adverting to this subje<jt, not to name his valuable “ Letter on the 
 General Chapel Fund,” in which the principle is not only ably discussed, 
 
126 
 
 ADAM CLAKKE. 
 
 but through which the fund itself was essentially aided. He had a strong 
 feeling against mere ornament ; and to show his contempt of some orna- 
 mental plaister-work around the aperture made for the chain of the 
 chandelier in the centre of the ceiling, which was not in keeping with the 
 other part of the erection, he inquired significantly, turning his eye 
 upward, “ Why have they placed those glorified cabbage leaves there?” 
 He considered Methodism infinitely more honoured by the aggregate 
 amount and influence of the more humble structures, in dissolute and 
 wretched neighbourhoods, than by her costlier temples. 
 
 Being asked his opinion of the Toleration Act, as passed about this 
 time, and being interested for his native country, he remarked, — “ In 
 looking into that Act, I am surprised to find there is nothing in it, 
 referring directly to Ireland ; though I think, in the way of implication, 
 the 9th and 10th articles will apply.” Not being satisfied with it, he 
 <jonsulted a professional gentleman, stating his own opinion of these two 
 articles. The legal gentleman coincided with his interpretation, as pre- 
 sumptive evidence that the Act was intended to include the United 
 Kingdom ; only, reminding him, that the Act stated that in “ cases 
 of infringement penalties could be sued for, only in the courts of England 
 and Wales.” The opinion which the Doctor stated to the biographer, 
 and which may be of service another day, is as follows : — 
 
 ‘‘ The Acts repealed by the last Toleration Act did not extend to 
 Ireland, but to England, and Wales, and Berwick only. Had they 
 extended to Ireland, an argument, though perhaps not a good one, might 
 have been supported in favour of the last statute, that it was meant and 
 intended to include, and did include, Ireland.” 
 
 “ The other statutes which the last Act proposed to amend, did not 
 include Ireland, and there should have been probably a specific enact- 
 ment to bring her under the protection of that Act, or the amendments 
 may be considered as limited to the places which were protected by the 
 Acts amended by the last statute.” 
 
 “ The Church of England upon the Union with Ireland, became the 
 Church of the United Kingdom ; and therefore, calling her by that 
 name in a statute passed since the Union, is not I fear sufficient, to give 
 a jurisdiction under the Toleration Act to Ireland, and the protecting a 
 person fully employed as a minister in any part of the United Kingdom 
 was perhaps meant to preserve itinerant preachers from the milifia. 
 Suppose a case : A person qualifies in England, and the Conference sends 
 him to Ireland or to Scotland, he would, in either country, be exempt 
 from the militia, even admitting that the statute does not apply in its 
 general tenor to either country. Upon the whole, though under the 
 impression of doubt, I am inclined to think that a statute should be 
 obtained to amend the last with respect to Ireland.” 
 
 The Doctor added, “ This opinion is of consequence, as a similar 
 
PART VI. — SECTION I. 
 
 127 
 
 omission has attended the Marriage Act, which has occasioned some of 
 our preachers in Ireland to conclude, that they have no authority to 
 solemnise the marriage rite in that country, between those who have a 
 ticket, or take out — a ticket to denote they belong to the Society. If, 
 therefore, the Toleration Act does not extend to Ireland, those marriages 
 are at least doubtful.” 
 
 Though Dr. Clarke knew Mr. William Dawson before this, by 
 character and name, yet it was not till now they had the pleasure of 
 enjoying each other’s society ; first, in the city of Chester, at a Mis- 
 sionary Meeting, and next at Liverpool, on a similar occasion. They 
 both preached. Mr. Dawson, as a “ tiller of the ground,” represented 
 the heathen world under the notion of a field ; and the Baptists, 
 Moravians, Calvinists, &c., as engaged in cultivating the great moral 
 waste. The Doctor was much pleased with the freshness, force, and 
 ingenuity displayed. They travelled between Chester and Liverpool, in a 
 post-chaise, in company with a friend who had lost a leg, and who, in 
 consequence of the vehicle not being exactly adapted to the bulk of three 
 such personages, aided by its jostling, permitted on first starting — of 
 course unintentionally — its unfeeling substitute to play off a few rubbers 
 against the Doctor’s more sensitive shin, — there was less disposition for 
 free conversation at first, than the social arm-chair would have admitted. 
 However, as Mr. Dawson observed to the writer, they were soon indulged 
 with some fine gleams of sunshine; and the Doctor adverting to the 
 cultivators of the foreign waste in his speech, pleasantly remarked — 
 showing at the same time, his strong general redemption principles, — 
 “ Jf I found a Calvinistic field in heaven, I should pass by it, and go to 
 some other.” In travelling the eighteen miles, the Doctor forgot his 
 shins and his wedgings at least two-thirds of the way, being so much 
 delighted with the conversation of his companion ; and the next morning 
 accosted a friend, who came to meet him thus : — ‘‘ Your friend Mr. 
 Dawson and myself talked all the way to Liverpool yesterday evening, 
 and what an astonishing mind the man has ! He assigned reasons con- 
 stantly for everything he had done.” Shortly after this, Mr. Dawson 
 again met with him in the city of Bristol, when he was. much struck with 
 a statement by the Doctor, namely, “ That he had examined the religion 
 of the Hindoos, the Mahomedans, &c. &c., but in all the different 
 religions which had passed in review before him, Christianity was the 
 only one that staked its credit for 'pardon on present belief. 
 
 In the month of May, the Doctor was requested to visit the 
 Metropolis, in order to preach two of the annual sermons in aid of the 
 funds of the Wesleyan Foreign Missions, and attend the public meeting. 
 While on the platform, he received a letter from Sir Alexander John- 
 stone, then within sight of land, on his return from the island of Ceylon ; 
 and in about half an hour another note was handed to him from the same 
 
128 
 
 ADAM CL AUK E. 
 
 gentleman, stating his actual arrival, and adding a wish to see him as 
 soon as possible. On the following day he had an interview with Sir 
 Alexander, who informed him that he had brought with him two of the 
 high priests of Budhoo, who had left their country for England, to be 
 instructed in the truths of Christianity. Two days after this, the Doctor 
 received them from on board the vessel at Blackwall. The name of the 
 one was Munhi Bat’hana, Teerunanxi, was twenty-seven years of age, 
 and had been high priest eight years : the other bore the name of 
 Dherma Kama, was twenty-five years old, and had been between six and 
 seven years in the priesthood, for which both had been educated from 
 their youth. They were cousins-german, and exceedingly interesting 
 both as to person and intellect. As a full account of them, as to their 
 lineage, person, character, studies, progress in knowledge, &c., is to be 
 found in Dr. Clarke’s “ Miscellaneous Works,” vol. xii. pp. 18 — 79, it is 
 unnecessary to enlarge beyond a few remarks. 
 
 It will be proper, however, as Sir Alexander Johnstone is introduced 
 into the history, to go back to Dr. Clarke’s first acquaintance with that 
 gentleman, which took place in the year 1812, previously to Sir Alex- 
 ander’s second visit to Ceylon, when he was appointed supreme judge. 
 This gentleman, ever anxious for the political, moral, and religious 
 improvement of the natives, to w^hom, in the order of Providence, he was 
 appointed to administer justice, applied to the Doctor, then residing in 
 London, to know if he could recommend to him two intelligent, pious 
 young men, who would be willing to go to that part of India, and 
 become schoolmasters, catechists, and teachers, in order to diffuse the 
 knowledge of unadulterated Christianity, among a million and a half of 
 British subjects, degraded by heathenism and superstitious darkness ; and 
 who, weary of their delusions, would be glad to receive the truth ; not 
 having, in fact, one prejudice against the Christian religion. Dr. Clarke 
 promised to inquire ; and, accordingly, did so at the ensuing Conference. 
 The late Dr. Coke, having perhaps as much of the spirit of a missionary 
 as any man since the apostolic age, volunteered his services to conduct a 
 mission to continental India. Dr. Clarke pleaded strongly for the pro- 
 priety of attempting the Christianisation of the island of Ceylon, as the 
 first step, showing that it might in all probability be the key to conti- 
 nental India. The Couference agreed to the proposal with the greatest 
 unanimity, and adopted the measure by appointing Messrs. Lynch, 
 Erskine, Harvard, Squance, Ault, Clough, and McKenny, to proceed to 
 India under the direction of Dr. Coke ; one of the missionaries was to be 
 left at the Cape, one at Java, and five to proceed to Ceylon. They 
 sailed, as previously noticed, in 1814 ; Mr. McKenny went to the Cape, 
 but the way to Java not yet appearing sufficiently open, neither of the 
 brethren was left there. Dr. Coke died on his passage; the other six 
 reached in safety the island of Ceylon, where they were received in the 
 
PART VI. — SECTION I. 
 
 129 
 
 most humane and Christian manner by the constituted authorities, and by 
 several well-disposed persons at Colombo, and elsewhere. They saw, 
 however, that little good could be expected to result from their labours, 
 till they had acquired a knowledge of the vernacular tongues of the 
 island, and they first attempted Cingalese. In this they made such pro- 
 ficiency that in a comparatively short time, they were enabled, by the 
 assistance of some learned natives and others, to translate the whole 
 !N’ew Testament into that language. This translation got into the hands 
 of the two Cingalese priests in question, who having naturally curious 
 and inquiring minds, read it with care and attention, and were deeply 
 impressed with the character of our blessed Lord, and were from his 
 history led to contemplate him as the most wise and benevolent of 
 beings. Their attention thus roused, they inquired and sought deeper 
 still into the truths of our holy religion ; and in proportion to their 
 inquiry, so was their reliance shaken in their belief of Budhooism. Still, 
 however, they could not see— for they mutually examined and perused 
 this translation of our Testament together — how they^ could, without sub- 
 jecting themselves to privations and hardships, make any profession of 
 their growing attachment to Christianity while in their own temple ; 
 but the desire to know it yet more fully induced them to wish to visit 
 that happy country, in which they knew it was the established religion, 
 and of which they had formed the highest conceptions. Hearing that 
 •Sir A. Johnstone was about to return to Europe, on account of his lady’s 
 health, they agreed to request him to allow them to accompany him to 
 England. Previously to this, they had no personal acquaintance with 
 that gentleman ; but they knew the excellency and philanthropy of his 
 character ; and as were their views of him, so was his conduct towards 
 them : he treated them with respect and tenderness. On their arrival in 
 England, Sir Alexander was at a loss how to dispose of them, in order 
 that they might attain the end for which they had undertaken so long 
 and wearying a voyage, and communicated his anxieties to Dr. Clarke, 
 whose counsel he solicited. The Doctor observed, “I think our Mis- 
 sionary Committee will take them ; but if not, I will do honour to their 
 motives, trust in the Lord, and take the whole burden upon myself.” 
 Sir Alexander rejoiced, and said, ‘‘ You shall not bear the burden alone ; ” 
 and it was agreed that the Doctor should lay the subject before the 
 Missionary Committee. This was accordingly done : the committee 
 heard the Doctor at great length on a number of topics connected with 
 the history, religion, and object of the priests. The issue was, the com- 
 mittee agreed to take them, be at the expense of their support, and by an 
 unanimous vote placed them under the care of the Doctor, who offered 
 his gratuitous services. They arrived at Millbrook on the 16th of the 
 month in company with their friend — Dr. Clarke, who was destined to be 
 their preceptor. 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 j 
 
130 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 After living in the family twenty-two months, they were baptised hy 
 the Doctor in Brunswick Chapel, Liverpool, March 12, 1820, being 
 Sunday. Though the ceremony was kept as private as possible, the 
 chapel was crowded to excess. The Doctor, after an interesting address, 
 went regularly through the whole service for the baptism of adults. To 
 the respective questions, the young men, though deeply affected, answered 
 clearly, distinctly, and with much animation. This done, they both knelt 
 down, and were baptised in the name of the Holy Trinity, water being 
 thrice poured upon their heads ; that is, once on the mention of each of 
 the Divine names. The elder earnestly requested to have the name of 
 his Christian instructor added and prefixed to his own ; and was accord- 
 ingly baptised Adam, Sree Goonah, Munhi Eat’hana ; his sponsors were 
 Thomas Kaye and John Forshaw, Esqs., and Mrs. Forshaw. The 
 younger, wishing to take the name of his patron, the Hon. Sir Alexander 
 Johnstone, was baptised Alexander Dherma Rama ; his sponsors were,, 
 the Rev. Robert Kewton, William Comer, Esq., and Mrs. W. Comer. 
 The Doctor, afte^this, addressed the sponsors, and then, in the most 
 solemn and impressive manner, taking the priests successively by the 
 hand, said, By this baptism administered to you in the name of the 
 most holy Trinity, and by the suffrages of this congregation, I admit you 
 into the Christian Church.” There were few in the congregation whO' 
 were not in tears ; and what was remarkable, long as the service was, and 
 cold as was the season, not so much as a cough seemed to be heard ; the 
 whole mass of the congregation being so engaged in the sacred worship as 
 to absorb their animal feelings, and to suspend all personal considerations ; 
 it was the stillness of intense feeling, and a feeling too, which few would 
 forget, and which would never be remembered but with the liveliest 
 emotions of gratitude and joy. 
 
 The Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper was then administered to many 
 hundreds of persons, the priests and their sponsors occupying the first 
 table. This was a most solemn scene : Dr. Clarke, evidently indisposed 
 before he began, had now been employed upwards of two hours without 
 intermission, and appeared much exhausted ; but when he came to 
 administer the sacred elements to the newly-baptised strangers, his feel- 
 ings completely overpowered him, and he found it difficult for some time 
 to proceed ; the tears flowed down the cheeks of the new Christians, and 
 a deep and universal sobbing plainly told the heartfelt interest all took in 
 the solemn scene before them ; a scene whose novelty was only exceeded 
 by its sacredness. Alexander Dherma Rama, who had long through fear 
 of death been subject to bondage, had, during this service, his fears re- 
 moved, saying, “ Oh ! I no fear to die now ; if I die I go straight to the 
 kingdom of God.” Adam Munhi Rat’hana, on returning to his room, 
 prostrated himself on the floor, and spent a long time in tears, prayer, and 
 praise. Both expressed themselves as powerfully affected, and “ feeling 
 
PART VI. — SECTION I. 
 
 131 
 
 more happy, and their hearts more light, than they had ever experienced 
 in their lives.” 
 
 In addition to the account published of them in the twelfth volume of 
 the Doctor’s Miscellaneous Works, som*e idea may be formed of the diffi- 
 culty he had in communicating correct views of God to them, by a 
 reference to his sermon on “ St. Paul’s Metaphysics,” founded on 
 Rom. i. 20, vol. vii., p. 383. Yet they were intelligent men. The 
 Doctor used to call them his “lovely young fellows,” (to the writer,) — ^ 
 “ black but comely; ” and observed, that they were “ as docile as spaniels.’^ 
 He bore testimony to their intense thirst after knowledge, and considered 
 them well instructed in the literature of their country, having been 
 educated not only in their maternal language, but also in the Patois 
 Portuguese, the Pali, the Tamul, and the Sanscrit. The Doctor wrote for 
 them, and subsequently published, his “ Clavis Biblica.” 
 
 Shortly after their baptism, it was resolved they should return to their 
 native country ; and as Sir Richard Ottley was about to sail for Ceylon, 
 as judge, it was deemed advisable that the priests should enjoy the 
 advantage of his company on their passage home. In the latter end of 
 April, Doctor and'Mrs. Clarke went up to town, accompanied by the twg 
 priests. Previously to leaving Millbrook, the feelings of the priests 
 increased in intensity as the time of their departure drew near : they 
 wept and deplored the necessity of their return ; visited each accustomed 
 haunt, bidding it adieu ; and then went into every room of the house. 
 Dr. Clarke, after this, took them into the study, where, kneeling down, 
 he commended them with much earnestness to God. This concluded, and 
 covering their faces with their hands, in deep agony of spirit, they stepped 
 into the chaise which was to convey them from a scene so endeared. The 
 Doctor wrote a certificate strongly commendatory of diligence, acquire- 
 ments, and character, “ To all whom it [might] concern,” dated. May 
 7th, 1820. Another was written by the direction of Lord Bathurst, 
 signed, “ Henry Goulbourn,” and dated, “ Colonial Office, May 6th.” 
 On their arrival at Gravesend, Alexander Dherma Rama wrote to the 
 Doctor; and again from Deal on the 22nd of the same month. The. 
 following letter supplies a short account of their voyage : — 
 
 Colombo^ Dec. 1821, 
 
 My dear Father, — Here I am comfortable and happy ; however I will 
 tell you my good generally : Since we sailed from England we have every 
 Sunday had prayers, and sometimes had a sermon ; every morning and 
 evening we have met in Sir Richard Ottley’s cabin to read the Bible and 
 pray ; indeed, sometimes, some of the other passengers have joined. We 
 have three Sundays had the Lord’s Supper ; indeed my mind sometimes 
 rejoices concerning my soul. 
 
 Every day Judge Ottley order us to go to him for our improvement; 
 
 .1 2 
 
132 
 
 ADAM CLADKE. 
 
 indeed, by his teaching, we have got great knowledge — also, he is very 
 kind to us. Your book teaches us great knowledge : he talks to us out 
 of it, and my mind is greatly satisfied with him all the time. I now 
 better understand what you wrote to us in your little book, (Clavis 
 Biblica,^) and I am now sorrowful in my mind, when I read your excel- 
 lent teaching, seeing my great danger of everlasting death ; but I have 
 often, after reading, much satisfaction in my mind : you have done great 
 kindness to me, and I feel much as I can for your sake. 
 
 On the 30th of October we arrived at Colombo ; the governor very 
 kind to me, and put me under the Kev. Dr. S , who came from Eng- 
 
 land, colonial chaplain ; with him I study Christian religion, and I hope, 
 in a very short time, to be able to preach the salvation of Jesus Christ. 
 When I was with you, I told you I wish to have some power to preach 
 the Gospel to heathen people ; my wish, I thank God, he has done for 
 me, and I have now exceeding happiness in receiving this great blessings 
 and in seeing my welfare in this respect. My dear father, I will never 
 forget you : you cut me some of your hair, and when I think of you I 
 take it in my hand, and seeing that, my mind is full of sorrow, wanting 
 you. Hereafter I hope you send me your likeness ;• what you have done 
 for me makes me feel highly, and my daily prayer is for you and your 
 
 family. j obedient servant. 
 
 To Dr. Adam Clarke. Adam Mxjnhi Kat’hana. 
 
 On landing, they were favourably received by the local government. 
 The eldest was appointed a Government Proponent, or chaplain, with 
 authority to preach the Gospel to his countrymen of his own caste, and 
 to baptize and marry. The younger was made a Mohunderam, or inferior 
 magistrate; and neither of them, up to Dec. 18, 1829, had evinced the 
 slightest attachment to their former idolatry, but in everything relative 
 to their religious profession, showed themselves to be sincere converts to 
 Christianity. 
 
 One circumstance came to the Doctor’s knowledge, which gave him 
 great pain. A missionary, in whose house one of them was domesticated 
 
 * The title of this work, which has already been adverted to, is, “ Clavis Biblica ; 
 or, a Compendium of Scriptural Knowledge : Containing a general view of the contents 
 of the Old and New Testaments ; the principles of Christianity derived from them, and 
 the reasons on which they are founded : with directions how to read most profitably 
 the Holy Bible. Originally drawn up for the instruction of two Teerunanxies, or High 
 Priests, of Budhoo, from the island of Ceylon. By Adam Clarke, LL.D., F.A.S., 
 M E.I.A., M.B.A.S., Member of the American Antiquarian Society, and Honorary 
 Member of the Historical Society of New York.” It was addressed to the President of 
 the Conference; the Eev. Messrs. Joseph Taylor. Bichard Watson, and John Burdsall, 
 Missionary Secretaries ; Joseph Buttervvorth, Esq., M.P., and the Eev. Geo. Marsden, 
 General Treasurers; and nil the gentlemen and ministers composing the General Com- 
 mittee of the Wesleyan Missionary Society. 
 
PART VI.— SECTION I. 
 
 133 
 
 for a certain period, treated him as a menial ; ^ and the priest entering his 
 presence on one occasion, with some degree of familiarity, was repulsed, 
 and asked why he did not put off his shoes before he entered his apartment 
 and his presence : “ and this,” remarked the Doctor, “ by a man who was 
 sent thither to destroy caste, and to a man who had been treated as one 
 of my own family, who had dined at the same table with Sir R-ichard 
 Ottley, and who had been treated with respect by the first gentlem.en in 
 this country.” This Missionary was no other than Elijah Hoole^ after- 
 wards one of the Missionary Secretaries, whose name, like that of Jabez 
 Bunting, was withheld in the first edition of the memoir, but since, 
 together with the fact, published in “ Methodism as it is.” 
 
 The “ Language Society ” having been named, the Doctor observed, 
 “It is a remarkable fact, that, with the exception of the Vulgate, &c., 
 most of our modern translations are by the Heathen. The Missionaries, 
 and others, have employed them ; and not being masters of the language, 
 have depended entirely on the heathen for a word in their language 
 equivalent to the Greek. In this way, a great deal of Calvinism, and 
 many improper readings, have been introduced, which will have an im- 
 portant bearing on the creed of the people for whom the translations have 
 been made. In one instance, a member of the Society noticed the term 
 stinginess^ which had been employed for a word which referred to a 
 directly opposite principle.” 
 
 Passing on to the Christian ministry, “ There is,” said he, “a great 
 deal of fictitious character among the ministers of the present day. 
 Formerly it was not so. The men with whom I associated in early fife, 
 
 were of sterling make. But now, they are aping Mr. and Mr. . 
 
 A young lad came to my house — a preacher ; I asked him to pray : if I 
 
 had not known, I should have thought it was Mr. f • His voice and 
 
 his sentences were perfectly of the school : and the imitation was 
 
 so complete, that it descended even to the reading of a note and the 
 
 winking of the eyes. It was Mr. everywhere, — before and behind. 
 
 The young men, especially, are quite a different race from their fathers : 
 they are stiffened up, and cut out by reading, study, and mimicry, till 
 there is very little genuine natural character left. I abhor all aping, — I 
 care not who the man is.” 
 
 Another subject which engaged his attention at this time, in connec- 
 tion with the Sunday Schools, is worthy of serious consideration : it is 
 taken up in a letter to the Rev. J. Entwisle, w^ho had pressed him to 
 preach some occasional sermons at Sheffield. 
 
 My dear Brother, — Last evening I returned from an excursion of 
 more than 200 miles, which I made to preach for Sunday Schools. I 
 went off afflicted with lumbago, and brought it back with me ; on my 
 
 * Elijah Hoole. 
 
 t J. Bunting. 
 
134 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 return, I began seriously to reflect upon my conduct, and to examine 
 whether there were most of wisdom or folly in it. I thought, there was 
 a time, when Sunday Schools were not well established, and but little 
 known ; and then extraordinary exertions were necessary to prove their 
 utility to the public ; the case is now widely altered ; — these schools are 
 established and well known ; and their importance universally acknow- 
 ledged : these extraordinary exertions are, therefore, no longer necessary ; 
 and every school should be so organised as to render them useless, and it 
 must be so if we wish to secure their permanency — for whatever is forced 
 is unnatural, and whatever is unnatural cannot be permanent. I con- 
 cluded, that I had possibly been doing evil rather than good, by 
 encouraging that species of unnecessary exertion, and preventing the 
 people from having recourse to those more natural and regular means 
 w^hich would induce them to proportion their expenditure to their regular 
 income, and not take those incautious steps by which they burthen them- 
 selves, and cripple a good work, depending upon the fortuitous influence 
 of some strange preacher, who it was hoped would succeed in exciting the 
 people to give more than they were wont to do, or, perhaps, could be well 
 justified in doing. After thinking a great deal upon this subject, I could 
 not help concluding, that, at best, I was acting no wise part ; and that 
 nothing could vindicate the steps taken but the opportunity of preaching 
 Christ crucified where he could not be heard of, but which case could not 
 occur in our connexion. Most seriously do I think, that these things 
 should be left in every place to the preachers on the spot ; and that this 
 is the only way to bring them to a regular plan, and secure their per- 
 manency ; for, I repeat it, this forcing work will not answer the end much 
 longer, and should be immediately abandoned. In the Missionary cause, 
 labours of this kind may ever be useful ; because the necessity of the 
 measure cannot be known but by accounts received from heathen nations, 
 of the great want of the Gospel, and the wretchedness of the inhabitants ; 
 and these should, by the ministers of Christ, be brought, at least once a 
 year, before the Christian public, to excite their commiseration and charity. 
 
 Though I should be glad to see the friends at Sheffield, yet I cannot 
 believe that my going is at all necessary upon this occasion, while such 
 men as yourself and coadjutors are there — men whom we are accustomed 
 to call from their circuits to preach for such charities in other places ! 
 Besides I have several Missionary Meetings to attend in April, and 
 believe it will be hardly possible for me to get through the whole : this 
 will sufficiently plead my excuse with my good friends in Sheffield. I 
 hear of nothing strange in the Connexion. 
 
 I am, yours affectionately, — A. Clarke. 
 
 One little incident, characteristic of the Doctor's kindness and conde- 
 scension, while at Millbrook, should not pass unnoticed. Some of the 
 
PART VI. — SECTION I. 
 
 135 
 
 <30111613, wlio were members of the Wesleyan Society, observed, that they 
 had to rise at four o’clock in the morning to go to their employment, and 
 expressed a fear lest they should nob be up in time. The Doctor quietly 
 remarked, “ I will pledge my word, you will be ready in time for your 
 work.” The next morning, precisely at four o’clock, the Doctor was un- 
 expectedly at the doors of the poor men in his neighbourhood, rousing 
 them from their slumbers ; a practice which he continued for some time. 
 Overwhelmed with gratitude, but unable to requite him for such atten- 
 tion, they thought they must nevertheless meet it in some small way. 
 Having heard that he was sometimes feverish in a morning, and dry and 
 parched in the mouth, they concluded that an apple would be very cool- 
 ing: and, accordingly, at their bidding, their children were wont to 
 steal out early in the morning, walk through the wet grass, and pluck 
 two' or three apples with the dew upon them, and take them to the study 
 window, which, when the gentle tap was given, was presently opened by 
 the Doctor, who, with a view to relieve the parents from a sense of 
 obligation, as well as to encourage emotions of gratitude, received the 
 boon; the children tripping off with buoyant step delighted by his accept- 
 ance of their offerings. 
 
 From the Conference of 1817 to that of 1819, the Doctor’s name stood 
 on the Minutes for Liverpool ; and there he took the share of labour 
 allotted to him in connection with the other preachers. It was in the 
 year of the last date, that things were assuming a threatening aspect in 
 Ireland. He observed on the subject, ‘‘ The times do not appear 
 auspicious ; and I am afraid, that the measures which our Government 
 are now pursuing, will make all worse ; as the lower classes, which are 
 the numerical bulk, and physical strength of the kingdom, appear to have 
 lost all confidence in their rulers. Nothing is done to soothe these dis- 
 contented spirits ; and, I am sure, it is perfectly possible to draw the cord 
 too tight. But complaint is useless : they think these strong coercive 
 measures are the best ; and they may answer the end for a time, but they 
 v'ill have a re-action ; for so it has been, in such circumstances, in the 
 history of every nation in the world. Strong coercive measures, founded 
 on petty occasions, are not the characteristics of a magnanimous Govern- 
 ment, but of a feeble and timid one. How far these observations apply 
 to our present administration, I leave others to decide.” This subject he 
 dwells on more minutely in a letter to his brother-in-law, Mr. Butterworth. 
 
 My dear Brother B., — It is true ‘‘ we seldom hear from one another 
 this I have often deplored, because I have frequently needed your counsel, 
 and would have asked it, but that I feared coming upon you at a time 
 when you might be borne down with business and Litigue, and my 
 application would only add to the grievance. The contents of your 
 letter are grievous— but to me not new. I seldom meddle with public 
 
13G 
 
 AVAU clakkp:. 
 
 affairs : God has not made me a ruler of the people ; but I see much 
 distress, and hear of more, and I must be utterly unworthy the name of 
 Christian, if my eye and ear did not affect my heart. The three great 
 interests in the nation are in a state of the most afflictive distress — I 
 mean the mercantile ; the agricultural ; and the manufacturing interests ; 
 and which is the least hopeless case I can scarcely tell from anything 
 within my own view. I have seen failures here to the amount of nearly 
 two millions of money in the course of a single week ! and failures too, 
 where none were ever suspected. The exorbitant assessed taxes, and the. 
 poor-rates, are draining the vital blood of the agricultural interests ; for, 
 as our manufacturers have comparatively fallen, and as our commerce has 
 become crippled, there is neither money nor employment for the poor and 
 the mechanic ; and the farmer, who is obliged to cultivate his land, and 
 has paid a high price for labour, &c., cannot sell the ample produce of his 
 fields for one-half of the money it has cost him ; and, consequently, 
 cannot meet the demands of tax-gatherers, the claims of the poor-rate, 
 and the rent of the landlord. The agricultural interest can never live, 
 unless every farm produce three rents : one, of course, goes to the land- 
 lord, one for taxes and maintenance of the stock, and one to the support 
 of the family. But the taxes and rates alone, take more than one rent ; 
 and as the produce sells so much below its value, there is little left for 
 the family, the stock, and the expensive contingencies which invariably 
 occur. My own estate is one of the best of its size in this country ; in its 
 cultivation, science and economy walk hand in hand; now, such is the- 
 depreciation of the produce of the fields, owing to the scarcity of money 
 resulting from the failure of trade, that, had I to meet the demands of a 
 landlord and the interest of stock, after paying taxes and rates, I am 
 satisfied I could not meet those demands, out of the produce of the soil, 
 with 2s. 8d. in the pound ! ISTow, if this be my state, what must the state 
 of others be in the same circumstances, and without my advantages ? 
 But enough of this — you tell me, there are some schemes at least in 
 embryo, for the help of the poor. I am glad of this ; for, though I con- 
 sider all such as necessarily partial in their operation, and inefficient in 
 reference to the mass of the people, yet they must do public and general 
 good from this circumstance, — The people see, from such exertions, that 
 their distresses are known, felt, and commiserated ; and this excites their 
 hopes, inspires public confidence, and prevents despair. Howsoever local 
 the application of relief may be, the beneficial impression will be general ; 
 especially if men high in office, and connected with Government, will take 
 an ostensible and decided part in such benevolent endeavours. Had I 
 authority and means, I could do much ; but I have done what I could : 
 the poor have not been able to get clothes : in God’s mercy to them, the 
 winter has been mild — I have bought blankets, shirting, fiannel, &c. &c., 
 and clothed many a naked individual, and helped not a few families : this 
 
PAIIT VI. — SECTION I. 
 
 13.7 
 
 has removed wretchedness from the poor of my own immediate neighhonr- 
 hood, and I have contrived labour for several who were wholly unem- 
 ployed : I have also answered many an objection, and quieted many a 
 murmur against Government. May God help us ! for inefficient must be 
 all the help of man, to remove the aggregate of these evils. I am now on 
 my road to Yorkshire, but will send you the laws of St. Lucius as soon as 
 I return, — it is an excellent work. Is Mrs. B. better ? 
 
 Yours affectionately, — A. Clarke:. 
 
 Tact is necessary to meet private as well as public hostility and 
 grievances, and will sometimes silence clamour, when force would only 
 aggravate the feeling it was designed to tranquillise. Apply this to 
 religious persecution. ‘‘ I was in company,” said the Doctor, “ where* 
 the subject of persecution was introduced ; when a person present, to 
 whom I was a stranger, told us, that his mode of acting, when he fell 
 among the enemies of religion, was this: — When anything was said 
 against the Methodists and the people of God, he immediately gave the* 
 person who said it, to understand, that he was one of them, and then 
 desired to know what he had to allege against them ; for, as he had 
 joined them from a persuasion, that they were the people of God, if they 
 were not so he should be glad to be undeceived. He generally found that- 
 this Was sufficient to silence these men.” The Doctor added, on thi& 
 fact, “In the presence of the decided Christian, the sinner is awed and 
 confounded.” 
 
 It was in the course of this year, 1819, — having previously more than 
 once tried to disengage himself from it, — that he resigned his office as Sub- 
 Commissioner of the Public Kecords ; and having freed himself from it, 
 he proceeded with greater regularity and rapidity with his Commentary ; 
 taking an occasional preaching excursion at the urgent request of hi& 
 friends, for the benefit of the church and its funds. One of these excur- 
 sions was taken in the autumn of the year, when he went into Cornwall,, 
 and preached respectively at Hayle, Helston, Redruth, Falmouth, Truro, 
 St. Austell, and Dock. At St. Austell, the timbers in the gallery being 
 too short, it was found they had started out from the walls, through the 
 immense pressure upon them, which shook it to its centre — being left- 
 supported only by its pillars. Though great terror and confusion spread 
 through the congregation, the Doctor, who, in all probability, would 
 have been one of the first victims, preserved his presence of mind, and 
 his post, and no one was hurt. From thence he proceeded to London,, 
 and preached in City Road Chapel the last Sunday in October. This 
 journey, and its pulpit toil, had a painful effect upon his physical energies. 
 His buoyancy of spirit, however, never forsook him, gleams of which are 
 to be seen in the following remarks on his journey from London to Mill- 
 brook, to his son-in-law, Mr. Hook. 
 
138 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 “ Upon the whole, we get on as well as could be expected ; but the 
 roads were in such a condition, that we lost rather more than two whole 
 hours ; for we did not reach Prescot till almost nine at night. We then 
 took a chaise, built all our luggage about us, and without us ; and got to 
 Millbrook a little before ten — where we found every one well ; and we 
 have not yet heard that anything has been wrong since we left home. 
 We were well known all along the way ; and though we had an 
 immensity of luggage, yet we were not charged one penny. I did not 
 wish to let kindness go unrewarded ; and, therefore, gave to each of the 
 guards 7s. 6d. Mother bore the journey very well: I was very weary: 
 the Portuguese took a glass of rum with everything, and took snuff 
 wholesale. He spoke French very well ; and I, as well as I could. I 
 have not spoken so much French for thirty-five years. Give our love to 
 the lads. Thras’ vile bottle, as strong as a cobweb, containing the anti- 
 flatulent liquor, broke, without any provocation, in mother’s work-bag, 
 and ruined the whole navigation. How abominable to keep bottles that 
 are too weak to carry their own fill of fluid ! ” 
 
 Being in London again at the close of the year, and not having an 
 opportunity of seeing Mr. Butterworth at the time he wrote, he addressed 
 him on a subject which will not quite coincide with the views of some of 
 the Wesley ans in the present day, but to which they will do well to take 
 heed, and would have done better, provided the same sentiments had 
 imbued their minds. 
 
 My very dear Brother, — I have heard, since I came to town, 
 that it is in contemplation to publish a newspaper among the Methodists. 
 Had I not had this information from a quarter that puts its truth beyond 
 doubt, I could not have believed it ; as a measure more fraught with 
 danger could not, in my apprehension, be projected or executed among 
 us. We have, at present, a great deal too much of a political spirit ; a 
 spirit as distant from the spirit of the Gospel, as light is from darkness. 
 Already I perceive a great tendency to political and party feeling ; and a 
 newspaper will determine the business, and divide those who may long con- 
 tinue one without such excitements. We are the friends of all, and the ser- 
 vants of all : when we take up a newspaper, we take up a determinate 
 side ; and, in effect, shut the doors against all those who may hold political 
 opinions differing from our newspaper. I have seen this fatally exem- 
 plified in the ministry of those who were justly deDominated “ political 
 preachers ” among ourselves. I have known the democratic preachers 
 -divide the congregations and societies : I have seen the outrageously loyal 
 do the same, and the flock of God has been scattered by both ; but this 
 was upon a limited scale : such preachers were not numerous, and being 
 succeeded by men who preached nothing but the Gospel of Jesus Christ 
 crucified, the divisions were soon healed ; though not without loss on 
 
PART VI. — SECTION I. 
 
 139 
 
 both sides of much spiritual life, and scars and cicatrices, observable 
 enough, of the wounds they had received. A newspaper among us will 
 effect all these evils on a great scale : one party will think it too high ; 
 another will think it too low : disputations will arise, and spirituality and 
 true religion be irreparably damaged. To talk of a newspaper without 
 politics, and to talk of politics without taking a determined party side, is 
 as absurd as it is universally contradicted by facts. We are too apt 
 already to become incautious in our language, and to express sentiments, 
 wliich, when properly examined and analysed, will appear to the dis- 
 passionate, as far from the spirit of the Constitution, as they are in the 
 mode of their discussion, from the spirit of Methodism. As to the 
 disgrace which would necessarily attach itself to our body from such a 
 measure, I need say nothing, because it is sufficiently obvious. Whatever 
 influence you have, I beseech you to use it in order to defeat this project : 
 if it become serious, I will do what I can to prevent it. I shall feel it 
 my duty to warn the Church of God against it ; and then leave the issue 
 to Him who is the head of all principality and power ! 
 
 I write thus to you my opinion on the subject of the newspaper ; you 
 may make what use you please of it. I shall not attend the meeting to- 
 ^ay, as I do not wish to spend any time in making observations which 
 would now be useless ; and yet which, if there, I should probably feel 
 myself obliged to make. Yours affectionately, — A. Clarke. 
 
 One of the great evils attached to Jabez Bunting’s character and 
 proceedings was that of dabbling in newspapers, and Methodism suffered 
 seriously in consequence of it; many of the evils specified by Dr. Clarke 
 being the unhappy result. 
 
 In the early part of 1820, the Doctor made considerable accessions to 
 his library and museum, but found himself cramped for want of shelves, 
 cases for his mineral and other specimens, &c. ; in the arrangement of 
 which he was exceedingly orderly and scientific. Though all seemed 
 fixed for life, and the estate was improving under his care, he felt the 
 inconvenience of a remote residence from the metropolis, and more espe- 
 cially in reference to the printing of his Commentary : hence, he observed 
 to a friend, Were I sure of a proper place near London, I would think 
 of looking out for a purchaser for Millbrook.” 
 
 Though several of his preaching excursions were often painful to him, 
 he met with little incidents of real life by the way, which he would have 
 found it difficult to have foregone. He had been at Bolton Abbey, the 
 property of the Duke of Devonshire, and was much pleased with the 
 venerable ruin and the scenery around. From thence he proceeded to 
 Birstal, near Leeds, to preach and attend a missionary meeting. At the 
 close of his sermon in the morning, he inquired, “ What has brought me 
 here ? I was never in this place before, — I know none of you, — I never 
 
140 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 saw you as a people before:” then, turning round with benignant 
 feeling to Mr. Hopkins, who sat behind him in the pulpit, he said, ‘‘I 
 will tell you what brought me here — ^love to Robert Hopkins, whom I 
 have known for nearly the last forty years, and between whom and 
 myself, there has existed nothing but the purest friendship.” Mr. 
 Hopkins, a simple-hearted man, thrown off his balance by this unex- 
 pected personal appeal, started up, and, as if resolved to be even-handed 
 with the preacher, exclaimed, “ Bless God, we have had the best sermon 
 we ever had in our lives ! ” The Doctor was dumb ; he could proceed no 
 further in the war of friendship ; and turning to the Mission cause, which 
 he found much more tenable for remark than the fire which burnt in the 
 bosom of his friend, he made his appeal, and opened up the sluices of 
 benevolence in the hearts of his audience. He was appointed to dine at the 
 house of a gentleman in the neighbourhood ; — “ !N^o,” said he, “ if Robert 
 Hopkins has only a potato and salt, I intend to dine with him, and from 
 hence I will not move.” — The tale of eccentricity is not yet closed. 
 
 Here the Doctor met, for the first time, the celebrated Samuel Hick, 
 the “Village Blacksmith;” and related, with much of pleasantry, 
 this his first interview. Samuel, with his usual openness and simplicity — 
 his face covered with smiles, stepped quickly up to the Doctor, — shook 
 hands with him — and, after a few words, artlessly proceeded : — “You can 
 get through with preaching better than me : I cannot bear to be disturbed : 
 I have but one idea, you see ; and if I lose that, why, I then have no 
 more to go to : but you. Sir, you have a many ideas ; so that if you were 
 to lose one, you could pick up another by the way, and go on with it.” 
 By “one idea,” poor Samuel meant the leading thought on which he 
 intended to dwell. While the relation assists the illustration of intel- 
 lectual character, it shows also the desolation which sometimes appeared 
 to himself, occasioned by a want of reading, when he turned his eye 
 inward. On going to the public meeting the Doctor had to encounter 
 the outbreaks of another of Nature’s originals. Old John Phillips, of 
 Osset, was present, and was called upon to speak. He was queer — 
 quaint — imaginative — bold — often loud — taking every now and then his 
 hearers by surprise. At first, the Doctor seemed scarcely to entertain 
 common respect for him : he sat — listened — turned away the eye — then 
 reluctantly brought it back again : John, at length, laid hold of him, and 
 in a strain of pure impassioned eloquence, riveted him to the spot : the 
 Doctor was like a child in his hand ; he brightened up all at once — the 
 eye dilated — the crystal tears rolled down his cheeks in succession — and 
 the only opposite feeling left was, that he was compelled to leave the 
 meeting before it concluded. 
 
 Mrs. Butterworth, Mrs. Clarke’s youngest sister, died in the course of 
 the month of June of this year, after a painful and lingering illness. On 
 this occasion Dr. Clarke wrote a consolatory letter to Mr. Butterworth, 
 
PART VI. — SECTION I. 
 
 141 
 
 embodying in it a sketch of her character : to that letter, written some 
 time after, the following refers, embracing another point or two for which 
 it is chiefly introduced. 
 
 My very dear Brother, — I have made some alterations in the 
 enclosed, and subjected it to a sort of arrangement, adding a line or two. 
 Of her usefulness, I think something should be said : she certainly was 
 very diligent and very useful. When I heard of her death, I wrote you 
 a letter in which I gave a sketch of her character as it then occurred to 
 me ; will you have any objection to let me have that letter, and permit 
 me to draw her character a little more at large that it may be published 
 in the Magazine ? I think this necessary : it is owing to you, to her, and 
 to the society, to do this ; and I have reasons for it, which you shall 
 know some other time. You must have read to you the sermon on the 
 “ Eights of God and Csesar ; ” it is not long, and may be read at a 
 sitting. The other piece, which you have read, is not a sermon, but a 
 lecture delivered to some young gentlemen : it contains, without party 
 views, the essential principles of the British constitution, and of law 
 itself. I think I know the principles of law and justice as well as most 
 men ; for if I am ignorant of these, I am ignorant of the whole system 
 of science and theology. You have put in a note concerning “Ques- 
 tionable Details ; ” I venture to state, that there is not one aphorism of 
 the whole, that admits of a question at all ; each of which is an absolute 
 demonstration on the principles laid down, or the facts referred to. The 
 enclosed letter, which I received from one of our chief magistrates, 
 relative to my lecture, you will be pleased with. I have another from a 
 gentleman here, who, in the time of the disturbances, wrote an address 
 to the people in favour of Government, which was dispersed in thousands : 
 he also speaks in the highest terms of the lecture, and wishes it circulated 
 over the whole empire. I think one should be sent to several of our prin- 
 oipal men ; and they will see in it a hair split, which it has not occurred 
 to any of them to attempt. Yours affectionately, — A. Clarke. 
 
 The Doctor had frequently been solicited to write a Life of Mr. 
 Wesley, and as time advanced was importunately pressed to undertake 
 and complete the work without delay.^ In consequence of the appear- 
 ance of Southey’s Life of Wesley, solicitations crowded upon him, 
 supported by a resolution of the Conference of this year, requesting him 
 to write one “suited to the present time and circumstances.” Mr. 
 Butterworth, the Doctor’s brother-in-law, was among the most urgent, 
 expressing his readiness to undertake the publication of it, on any 
 terms he might propose, or to give him £500 for tl^ copyright. The 
 
 * An allusion to these entreaties will be found, vol. i., pp. 282, 284, 315, in the first 
 edition of the Memoir. 
 
142 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 Doctor himself was strongly inclined to the work ; and, in his frank- 
 ness, remarked to the biographer one day, “It has often appeared 
 to me, that Mr. Wesley was more free and playful with me than 
 with others, under an impression that I might possibly contemplate a 
 Life of him ; he entered into various family and other affairs, and 
 dwelt upon them, as if anxious to impress me, and give the most correct 
 information. I have many things that have never been presented to 
 the public, both with regard to John and Charles ; and if these col- 
 lections were added to others, some additional light might be thrown 
 on John’s life and labours, for as yet we have no proper character of him : 
 the men who have written of him, have not properly understood him. 
 Charles was an enemy to lay preachers, and encouraged them, not so 
 much for their work’s sake, as under an impression that they might be 
 stepping-stones to his brother and himself. John was not so : he valued the 
 men, under God ; — employed and respected them — and considered them as 
 an essential part of his system.” The Doctor, on the vote of the Conference, 
 wrote to Mr. Lutterworth : 
 
 Liverpool ^ August 21, 1820. 
 
 My very dear Brother B., — I should have written to you before 
 now, but understanding that your eyes were bad, and that you were out 
 of town for your health, I delayed it till the present. I am come in to 
 go up the shore for my health, for the benefit of salt water. 
 
 You will have heard, that I have been requested, by a vote of the 
 Conference, to write a Life of Mr. Wesley; which, the vote stated, 
 should be submitted to a committee of the preachers, who should 
 report to the Conference, which should authenticate the work, &c. 
 Now, if I undertake it at all, I cannot hope to do it tolerably, 
 unless I have the concurrence of the body ; and, on this ground, I 
 am satisfied with their having taken it up, as I have now a right to 
 ask for, and expect materials, from every part, of the Connexion ; 
 and on no other ground could I do this without exciting jealousy. As to 
 its being subjected to a committee of the Conference, I fear nothing : I 
 believe I shall not write anything on that subject, that the great body 
 will not approve; but I think it would have been more creditable to 
 themselves not to have mentioned this, because the public might be led to 
 judge from it, that it must be a partial thing ; and perhaps some may go 
 so far as to say, that it was written to serve the party, and not to display 
 things as they were. I know the reviewers said of Mr. Hampsbn’s and 
 Messrs. Coke and Moore’s Life, that the former was written “for Truth 
 and the Public, and the latter for the Connexion ; ” but possibly all this 
 may be obviated without much difficulty : however, what I state, is 
 merely my own jmpression on the general subject. When Southey’s Life 
 became a subject of discussion in the Conference, I spoke on the 
 character of Mr. Wesley for about half an hour ; it was without pre- 
 
FART VI. — SECTION I. 
 
 14a 
 
 meditation or design, but the effect was astonishing— many of the old 
 men were in tears ; and I never met with more gratifying demonstrations 
 of affection and respect than were shown afterwards. If there was a particle 
 of jealousy, it was obliged to look out at a friendly eye, and there it was 
 drowned in the tears which flowed for the character which was delineated. 
 After all, I did not engage to undertake it : the Commentary is still a. 
 dead -weight upon my mind, and I cannot plod at it as formerly : my 
 health gets soon impaired by close sitting, and my eyes get soon weary. 
 
 At my own request, Mr. Moore, who certainly knows more of Mr. 
 Wesley than any other man living, was desired to assist by his counsel 
 and communications, should I undertake it. All were desired to collect 
 materials and anecdotes of original Methodism — its introduction into 
 particular places, &c. If this be done, much valuable and new publish- 
 ing matter may be collected and saved. Before I received your letter on 
 this subject, which you may recollect was before Conference, two of my 
 particular friends had urged the measure ; they thought Southey’s Life a 
 libel on Methodism, and that nothing but a genuine Life could coun- 
 teract the evil. After all, I should like to do the work, and want only 
 health and time. I should rejoice to get suggestions from any judicious 
 hands : I know of none to whom I can look but you, and Mr. Ward : 
 see what you can do. When I see the way clearly, then I shall know 
 whether I can walk in it. I know you feel a very deep concern in this 
 business, and God has given you counsel and strength : I wish to vindi- 
 cate the truth of God, and the character of one of the first of men. 
 
 Yours affectionately, — A. Clarke. 
 
 Though the biographer differed in opinion from Dr. Clarke, on 
 Southey’s Life of Wesley, both as to its literary character, and its effect 
 upon the public mind, yet fidelity binds him to give the following letter 
 to Joseph Lutterworth, Esq., which enters more fully into his views and 
 feelings on the subject : — 
 
 Millbrook, Bee. 11, 1820. 
 
 My very dear Brother B., — Your long-expected letter is come to 
 hand : I could have wished that you had been more explicit and decisive 
 in delivering your opinion. Your letter was broken open, and had 
 affixed on it the royal arms, with the legend “ Comptroller’s Office.’' 
 Penny Post Office. Is it usual or proper to have the letters opened in 
 this way, and then sent without any reason being given, or apology for 
 such an infraction made on the rights of privacy and confidence? If 
 this be right, why then, there is no longer any security for the safety of 
 private communications of any kind, even through the medium of a high 
 
 * John Ward, Esq., solicitor, Durham ; an exemplary Christian character, — a man of 
 sound judgment, good taste, and extensive reading; — one to whom the writer is deeply 
 indebted for counsel and kindness in early life, when in the habit of visiting the 
 paternal roof. 
 
144 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 and extravagant postage system, or through that of the privileges of 
 Parliament. As I waited for your answer, I have not written a single 
 line of the Life ; indeed I could not attempt it till Job was finished : for, 
 whatever you or others may think, I could as soon serve two masters as 
 carry on two such works consecutively. I have no courage to undertake 
 the Life, and am weary of the Commentary ; I have now finished the 
 only rerfiaining book that required any especial skill or knowledge. Of 
 the Prophesies I know nothing, and will not expose my folly as others 
 have done theirs, by writing on what I do not understand. Much might 
 be said on the Psalms, but that must be nearly common-place ; and I 
 believe it is a Book which stands less in need of a comment than any 
 other in the Bible ; almost everybody understands it in a general way, so 
 far as edification is concerned. Now as to the Life ; if I had the same 
 opinion of Southey’s work which you have, I should deem it a totally 
 superfluous wbrk to offer another Life to the Public. But I am satisfied, 
 such a work as has been called for, is absolutely necessary, because of the 
 
 mistaken views created in the public mind by S ’s Life of Wesley. 
 
 Even its literary merit is small ; yet, were it candid, were it true, were it 
 a fair representation — not an anamorphosis of facts — its want of literary 
 merit might be easily passed by, and I should be the last to complain of 
 it ; but it is in most respects what it should not be. From its construc- 
 tion and tendency it must do evil ; — not adventitiously but positively — 
 of direction, and in course. Its grand object in reference to Mr. 
 Wesley is, to show, that his ruling principle was ambition ; — to the grati- 
 fication of which he bent all his powers, exerted all his zeal, and 
 employed all his diligence ; — and that he was an enthusiast in the 
 adoption of means to accomplish this end. If, then, as Mr. S every- 
 
 where states, his ambition was at the bottom of all his exertions, — that 
 it was not only the primum mobile^ but the totum mobile of all his 
 
 conduct, — then he was, on Mr. S ’s showing, a hypocrite: one by 
 
 whom God could not work ; and consequently, all the religious effects, 
 produced by his exertions, are only enthusiasm and delusion. There is 
 
 no escape from this conclusion. I assert, that Mr. S , in every page, 
 
 directly or indirectly, studies to show, that Mr. Wesley acted, ever acted 
 by enthusiasm, — through ambition ; and if so, Mr. Wesley, considering 
 the wondrous effects produced by his agency, can be considered in no 
 
 other light than that, which, on Mr. S ’s principles, shows him to 
 
 have been. Allow Mr. S ’s principles, and you must allow these ; 
 
 and if you allow his book to exist, then the above is the fair and legiti- 
 mate conclusion. A man pretending, during the whole of a long life, to 
 labour for the glory of God, and the good of the world, — working 
 throughout the whole from the principle of ambition to the gratification 
 of the passions it excites, — must have been a man, against whose influence 
 the world should be put on its guard. 
 
PART VI. — SECTION I. 
 
 145 
 
 It is true, that from the turn Mr. S has given to this subject, and the 
 
 warm colouring with which he has invested it, he shows, that the princi- 
 ples may be profitably used, and get a salutary state- direction ; and the 
 very people themselves, who act from these principles on their established 
 system, may be pressed into the service of that worldly religion, which is 
 used by the rulers of the earth, for the accomplishment of state purposes. 
 Hence, several worldly men have read the Life, recommended it to others, 
 seized on the principles by which such mighty works have, as they think, 
 been done ; — wish to put them into another channel, under another 
 direction, in reference to another widely different end. These will not 
 
 hesitate, from Mr. S ’s account, to extol Mr. Wesley as a wise man 
 
 — a great man — one who did a vast deal of good, &c. &c. ; and would 
 wish, nay labour, to have his followers united to, and absorbed in, the 
 ecclesiastical establishment of the country. Does one of these men exalt 
 him as the man who was appointed by God to awaken a nation sleeping 
 on the very verge of the gulph of perdition ? — the man who demonstrated 
 the fallen condition of the human race, — who asserted, defended, and 
 enforced the doctrine of justification by faith, through the Sacrificial death 
 of Christ Jesus, — as the man who showed that true religion is Christ in 
 us the hope of glory, — who maintained and proved, the doctrine of the 
 witness of the Spirit, — and of salvation from all sin in this fife? Ho, 
 
 no ! for in these lights Mr. S never sees. Moral good must, it is true, 
 
 be respected; for decency of conduct is necessary to cover ambitious 
 
 designs. On Mr. S ’s principles, no spiritual good was done by Mr. 
 
 Wesley’s preaching, nor by that of his successors ; all this is enthusiasm 
 
 with Mr. S . God is not, cannot be in such a work— for with Mr. S 
 
 there is no such religion ; there is no communion with God ; there is no 
 life of God in the soul of man, implied in Christianity ; the pretence to it 
 
 is enthusiasm: and hence, Mr. S extols those preachers most, whose 
 
 labours were least distinguished by the conversion of sinners. See the 
 all-speaking, all-overwhelming proof which he gives in selecting Mr. G. 
 S •,* whom he exalts above all the preachers who had ever been asso- 
 
 ciated with Mr. Wesley ; and who, he says, never entered into the enthu- 
 siastic system ! — a preacher whom you, and all who knew him, knew him to 
 be a good and sensible man ; was perhaps one of the least owned of God, 
 
 in the public work. This exactly suited Mr. S ’s system, and this man 
 
 is exalted beyond all the others, for the great purpose of pouring con- 
 tempt on the spiritual work ; and yet S ^s experience in the Arminian 
 
 Magazine^ for 1782, from which Mr. S took all he could know of him, 
 
 is the most barren of all the original lives of the Methodist preachers ; and 
 gives account of only two years of his ministry, viz. : — 1763 — 64. The 
 latter years of his life, between twenty and thirty, he spent in London, as 
 corrector of the press, and assistant in the concerns of the book-room, and 
 * George Storey. 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 K 
 
uo 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 had his regular station with the travelling and local-preachers ; and 
 during all this time, he was never distinguished for anything but his 
 honest, blunt uprightness ; and never appears to have been used in any 
 
 particular way for the conversion of souls. This very man Mr. S 
 
 picks out as the most eminent of the Methodist preachers, and who could 
 never enter into the system of enthusiasm. You must surely see the 
 reason of all this. 
 
 I have read Mr. Watson’s observations ; it is an excellent defence of 
 
 Mr. Wesley and Methodism, against the calumnies of Mr. S . With his 
 
 personalities I have nothing to do. Mr. S deserved anything in this 
 
 way; but such matters in controversy can never add any weight to an 
 argument, and should be omitted: I should have been glad if Mr. 
 Watson had left everything relative to the quondam political creed of 
 
 Mr. S and his tergiversation out of his work. Still it is a complete 
 
 refutation of the calumnies of Mr. S , and a successful defence of 
 
 Methodism and its doctrines against his aspersions ; and should be dis- 
 persed by thousands through the Connexion, and through the nation, at 
 the lowest possible price. It is personality I regret ; because everything 
 of this kind must be retorted ; and then there is an end of fair discussion 
 in order to find out truth. In such cases, the weight of the old adage 
 should be felt on all sides •: “ He that resides in a glass house, should 
 beware how he throws stones at the dwellings of neighbours.” * 
 
 If I am not much mistaken, S ’s Life will be a source of injury 
 
 to many in our Connexion ; men of little religion, but strong in worldly 
 
 prudence, will, on the show of S ’s bait, swallow the hook concealed 
 
 in it. They will think, that it will be best for Methodism to put itself 
 more particularly under the protection of the State ; and wish us to 
 sacrifice our Christian liberty in order to procure worldly respectability ; 
 
 and should we do what Mr. S and his friends advise, we should at once 
 
 annihilate the discipline of our Society, our spiritual government of God’s 
 Church, and soon make shipwreck of the doctrines that are according to 
 godliness. Even our loyal principles are pleaded against us, to Show that 
 we should make overtures to form the recommended coalition ! Any 
 attempts on our part to do this, would be the immediate cause of a divi- 
 sion. The most holy part of the people would be faithful to their original 
 calling, and set up for themselves, and soon be exposed to persecution, 
 because their principles would be suspected of disloyalty. Some time ago, 
 it was proposed to Government to direct the ‘‘bishops to ordain twenty- 
 three of the travelling preachers ; and from this condition, the whole body 
 of Methodists would be brought into the vortex of the Church ; twenty- 
 three of the chief being ordained, would bring all the rest ; and the 
 people would necessarily follow their leaders. Our separate communion 
 
 * Mr. Watson’s tergiversations are dwelt upon at some length in ‘^Methodism as 
 it Is,” vol. i., p. 69, &c. The retoit ” is without stint. 
 
PART VI. — SECTIoy I. 
 
 147 
 
 would be given up, allowing only the privilege of class^leading ; and by 
 this the Church would gain such an acquisition of political strength, and 
 the State likewise, that the dissenting opposition would be worthy of no 
 regard, and soon dwindle into nothing.” This scheme, after it had been 
 submitted to the Archbishop of Canterbury, was laid before me ; and, 
 although I was one of the twenty-three elected, I lifted up my voice 
 against it, and denounced it. Were the time unfortunately come, in 
 which the Methodists must either throw their whole weight into the 
 national or dissenting scale, — did Providence clearly indicate, by circum- 
 stances, that it had placed us in this dilemma, — I believe, the great body 
 would not long deliberate — it would, without hesitation, range its many 
 thousands under the banner of the Established Church. But we are not 
 in these circumstances — we are a middle party, existing independently of 
 either, and capable of doing good to each ; and while we abide in our 
 calling, sacrificing nothing to pomp or worldly influence, we shall continue 
 to be what, by the grace of God, we are now —a respectable and useful 
 people : in a word, the salt of God in the nations of the earth. I have 
 received no communication from any quarter relative to the Life, but from 
 the holy and venerable rector of St. Chad’s, in Shrewsbury ; he has fur- 
 nished me with all the letters that passed between himself and Mr. Wesley ; 
 and some anecdotes of Dr. Annesly, by Samuel Wesley, sen., (father of John,) 
 and of Mr. Wesley himself. I did not know that such things existed till 
 he wrote and proffered these helps. In a long sheet of anecdotes written 
 as small as Greek, which I received last night, you will not be displeased 
 with the following note to myself : 
 
 “ Shrewsbury^ Bee. StJi^ 1820. 
 
 “ My dear Sir, — The above are all the letters I ever received from 
 Mr. Wesley ; I value them, I cannot tell you how highly. Glad shall I 
 be if they will afford you any service. You are the fittest man upon 
 earth to write his Life ; and I pray for grace, health, encouragement, and 
 success. Well do I remember you, with Mr. Wesley, when I called upon 
 that good man in Bristol between forty and fifty years since ; like myself 
 you were then a young man — in this month I shall complete my 7 5th 
 year. I remember also, how much I was taken with you : may our 
 friendship be eternal ! I thank you for your letter, and hope the answer 
 
 I return will be agreeable. I am reading S ’s Life of Wesley, which 
 
 I wish had never appeared. I cannot see what other motive he could 
 have had in writing it, besides getting money ; but I suppose his end will 
 be accomplished. Shall I tell you a secret before we part ? I should wish 
 to have my name, worthless as it is, to pass down the stream of time 
 united to yours and Mr. Wesley’s. Being once mentioned, if in the 
 margin, will please and satisfy your admiring and affectionate friend. 
 Begging your prayers, I am, my very dear Sir, your affectionate brother 
 and servant, “ Thomas Steadman.” 
 
 K 2 
 
148 
 
 AL>AM CLAliKE. 
 
 Mr. Steadman and I met at Park Gate Ferry, in the year 1811, ihe? 
 first time since the year 1789 ; though both comparatively old and grey- 
 headed, we at once recognised each other. Should it please God that I 
 write this Life, his name shall stand prominently, not in the margin but 
 in the text ; and I shall think the page honoured where it stands. Mr. 
 A. Knox was with him a long time, and gave him about thirty letters- 
 that passed between Mr. Wesley and him, and with them several impor- 
 tant papers, and all in confidence. He tells me that he has written to* 
 him for permission to communicate the letters to me ; if I get these they 
 will be a treasure. I now come to thank you for the hints relative to the* 
 Life : they are excellent, and should be carefully attended to, by any one 
 who undertakes this task. I would not, however, rank the speech to the 
 poor people when penniless — (he was stepping into the chaise at City 
 Road,) — in the imperfections of his character : from my perfect knowledge 
 of him, I must conscientiously say, that he stands, in my opinion, at the 
 head of the whole human race ; and to maintain and prove this point I 
 should feel little difficulty. 
 
 I am sorry, truly so, for the death of your brother Thomas ; he was a 
 man I greatly respected : if he has made his own will, there is little room 
 to fear any litigation after his death. It is only the wills made by lawyers- 
 that are uncertain, confused, and dangerous. The law of words and 
 phrases exists not in the law of wills ; wherever the intention of the- 
 testator is expressed, all is safe ; the law works at nothing but this. If I 
 possessed millions, I would take care that no lawyer’s pen should ever be 
 used to express a purpose of my heart. In making a will, common sense> 
 is better than all the botherums and borums in the nation. The state of 
 the country is every way bad : it is time our ministers should go about 
 their business ; they have been too long employed about that of the 
 country, which they were never able to manage ; whether better may be 
 gotten, I cannot tell, but I believe the change would allay the ferment in 
 the country. You know little of this in London ; you cannot know it 
 it is not fairly represented to you, and of it the king appears totally 
 ignorant. We cannot get above 7s. 6d. for the best wheat, and we cannot 
 bring a bushel of it to the market which has not cost us 12s. ; let it fall 
 in price as it may, the oppressive taxes still continue. If the agricultural 
 interest of the nation sink, (and it is sinking as fast as it can,) what 
 signifies the commerce of the nation, or its political relations? Hot one 
 rush. I know it is common for those who affect to be loyal to deny these 
 things, or to gloss them over ; and so would I, if I did not fear a lie : our 
 great men may continue to despise i he cry of fire, till the flaming roof 
 falls in about their ears. I am endeavouring everywhere to preach 
 patience, forbearance, and trust in God. It is a mercy that the people 
 hear us. Our own we can keep quiet, because the religion of Christ has- 
 hold of their hearts. 
 
PART VI. — SPXTION IT. 
 
 149 
 
 I am sorry for the long and severe continuation of your affliction, and 
 we have made it, and often still make it, a point of pleading in our 
 prayers, that God may relieve you and spare your sight. I have no doubt 
 that it is a nervous affection, and that rest and bracing of the whole 
 system are essentially requisite to your recovery. I wish you would come 
 to us for a month : I am sure we could make you comfortable. You know 
 our family is small: only the big and little Mary and myself. Mary 
 Anne will write your letters for you ; and it may be, that under your 
 •direction, I might begin this Life. Our air is pure and healthful. Job, 
 you know, has been some time finished, and I hope it will be brought into 
 oireulation before Christmas : no part of the sacred writings has cost me 
 so much trouble and anxiety as this : it is a poem at least as obscure as 
 the Cassandra of Lycophron ; the latter has never yet been understood, 
 and probably not the former. All here send their love to you. 
 
 Yours affectionately, — A. Clarke. 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 1821. 
 
 The political miasma which continued to hang over the public mind, 
 occasioned unpleasant feeling in the Doctor. Addressing a friend, he 
 observed, “ A part of what you communicated caused me a very uneasy 
 night, and deprived me of rest. I mean what refers to the j)ublic con- 
 duct of a certain person. I had drawn up a very strong, and loyal 
 address to the king, which was passed unanimously by the Conference ; 
 but I must confess, had your information been received before that was 
 adopted, I should have altered several expressions, though the principle 
 and declaration of loj^alty would have been precisely the same. As the 
 case now stands, I am sorry for it — as such conduct has a most direct 
 tendency to impair the loyal feeling of the nation ; — at this time, we need 
 nothing of this kind. The nation is becoming increasingly disaffected. 
 The Methodist preachers, however, are all true men. It will pain you to 
 hear, as it does me to relate, that this year, through what is called 
 Radicalism, we have lost between 5,000 and 6,000 members. This is such 
 u blow as we never had since we were a people.” * 
 
 * Wiiat would the good Doctor have felt, if the “departing knell” of “one 
 HUNDRED thousand” had rung in his ear, as in the ears of others, in 1849, — when so 
 many men, women, and children, were driven from the Wesleyan fold, not because of 
 ‘“Radicalism,” but at the fiat of Jabez Bunting, who would have ousted himself, if he 
 «ould,— and for no other cause, as shown in “Methodism as it is,” than that of the 
 exposure, by some unknown persons, of the evils resulting from his own policy and 
 despotic acts. See Appendix, No. 3. 
 
160 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 The Doctor, in speaking of disaffection and radicalism, threw hi& 
 mind back upon different events, which, for some months, had greatly 
 agitated the public mind, embracing the trial of the consort of George 
 TV.y — the movements and trial of Mr. Hunt, — several public meetings 
 convened by agitators, — the publication of infidel tracts by Carlisle, 
 Taylor, and others, — the “ Cato Street Conspiracy,” and arrests and 
 trials for high treason. One thing may be named in passing: the 
 Doctor’s connection with Government was generally known ; but more 
 might be taken for granted, of his knowledge and connection with other 
 departments of public affairs, than was warranted. It is on the latter 
 supposition, that the following circumstance is conjectured to have taken 
 rise : he received a packet, enclosed in an envelope, directed to himself 
 and within that, another envelope, directed to the king and his ministers. 
 In the note addressed to the Doctor, the writer expressed his belief, that 
 he (the Doctor) was in some way connected with Government, and that 
 he wished him to forward the enclosed immediately to the proper 
 quarter, as it involved matters of vital importance to the State. The 
 Doctor immediately wrote to Lord Sidmouth, saying he had jast received 
 the packet as directed, — that he knew not from whom it came, and was 
 also ignorant of its contents ; that it might be the ravings of a maniac, or 
 something vexatious in its character, yet he had deemed it necessary tO' 
 send it. His lordship wrote an immediate acknowledgment, thanking the 
 Doctor for his promptitude and discretion ; further stating, that whatever 
 such things might contain, it was always well to forward them. Though 
 thrown into his lordship’s society afterwards, the Doctor delicately* 
 avoided all reference to the packet : nor did Lord Sidmouth refer to it. 
 The same week, the “ Cato Street Conspiracy,” — one of the most 
 diabolical on record, in a Christian state, was discovered; and the 
 Doctor could scarcely resist the persuasion, that one of the conspirators 
 had made the communication, and that the packet added to the informa- 
 tion, of which Government was previously in possession from other 
 quarters. Independently of all, the discovery and defeat of the design 
 was a national blessing. 
 
 Though the loss of so many members from the Methodist Society at 
 home was cause of regret, occasioned by the tumultuous upheavings of the 
 maddened spirit of the times, the Doctor was encouraged by the pleasing 
 aspect which religious affairs assumed abroad. One of the missionaries 
 presented him with Patoe’s Portuguese Hymn-Book, and various fact& 
 relative to the Conformity of Asiatic Customs and Manners with those 
 mentioned in the Bible ; the latter of which were exceedingly useful to 
 him in his biblical researches. He considered the Wesleyan Mission to 
 the East, one of the most important the body liad established. From 
 information received, he found that the treatise which he had written for 
 the instruction and confirmation of the Buddhist Priests, was translated 
 
PART VI. — SECTION II. 151 
 
 into the Singhalese language by the Rev. J. Calloway, and printed at tLe 
 Wesleyan press. 
 
 In his correspondence with Archdeacon Wrangham, about this time, 
 the Doctor informed him, that he had secured for him the set of Titles to 
 Walton’s Polyglott for which he wrote, and that he had succeeded in 
 reference to the Titles (^facsimilies) of the Paris Polyglott, which had 
 been formed on a model, printed, and stained in close imitation of the 
 original. For his own copy of the Paris Polyglott, he gave thirty 
 guineas, and was charged fifteen guineas duty, exclusive of other 
 expenses. The duty sat as heavy on the Doctor’s mind, as it lay like an 
 incubus on the free circulation of sacred literature. He wrote on the 
 subject to Mr. Yansittart, under an impression of overcharge. But Mr. 
 Yansittart informed him, that it was the fixed duty ; never remitted to 
 individuals, and only now and then to public bodies. He was pleased to 
 find in a letter about this time, from the Rev. G. Townsend, (now Pre- 
 bend of Durham,) that he was on the eve of publishing the Scriptures of 
 the Old and Hew Testament, arranged agreeably to chronological order ; 
 a work in which he rejoiced, and wished him the greatest success. 
 
 A person of some rhyming respectability requested the patronage of 
 the Doctor for a work he was about to publish ; when he was met at the 
 threshold with, — rarely read poetry: what I read in early life did 
 not profit me : poetry is a dangerous thing for imaginative beings.” 
 This was somewhat discouraging. Another person, in whom he had more 
 confidence, and whose subject he preferred, observed to him playfully, yet 
 sincerely, — “ I intend to dedicate the work I have in hand to you, 
 Doctor.” “You may,” he facetiously replied, “ dedicate your old shoe to 
 me, if you please.” 
 
 Referring to the original defection of our nature, he remarked, — “The 
 doctrine of original sin has been denied by many ; while its opposers, as 
 well as those who allow it, give the most unequivocal proof that they are 
 subjects of its working. I have seen men impugn and defend it with an 
 asperity of temper and coarseness of diction which afforded suflBcient 
 evidence of a fallen nature. A late writer on the subject has excelled in 
 this way, and by his bad temper spoiled his works : he has published two 
 books on the Scriptures, translating and commenting, both of which 
 witness against him.” Then speaking of the odious nature of sin, and its 
 contagious character, which is compared to leprosy, it led him to describe 
 a case of leprosy which came under his own notice : “ Such a deplorable 
 object I never before beheld ; the body, the arms, legs, &c., were terrific ; 
 every sort of association with this person was avoided, and life was 
 an insupportable burthen ; so that the patient was incessantly and 
 earnestly entreating God to put an end to it ! I believe death in an}^ 
 form would have been preferred by this unfortunate being to this life of 
 suffering. This,” he added, “is descriptive of sin: the leprosy began 
 
352 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 with a spot, hidden infection being the cause ; for the spot itself was only 
 the first evidence of the vicious principle within : and there is, in like 
 manner, a contagion in human nature, an evil principle opposed to the 
 truth and holiness of God. This is the grand hidden cause of transgres- 
 sion. It is a contagion from which no soul is free ; it is propagated with 
 the human species — no human being was ever born without it ; it is the 
 infection of our nature.” He always spoke strongly on the great facts of 
 revealed truth. 
 
 Having been removed from Liverpool to Salford in Manchester, 
 during the last Conference, in both of which districts he was chairman ; 
 the Salford friends felt happy in the appointment, while those on the 
 Manchester side of the Irwell, were delighted in having him so near. To 
 Mr. and Mrs. Brookes, of the latter place, he remarked, — “In all my 
 visits to Manchester, for two years, I was entertained at your house ; and 
 I must say, that never in the whole course of my peregrinations through 
 the wilderness, have I met with more affectionate attention than in your 
 house, — where, if it were possible, I was even more than at home ; and if 
 ever a moment’s pain arose, it was on account of being treated far beyond 
 not only my deserts, but beyond everything which the rights of 
 hospitality, or even my relation to you as a messenger of the churches, 
 entitled me to expect. As poor Dherma said to me when he left 
 England, — ‘ I thank you for your great and glorious manner of good- 
 ness ; ^ so I may address you ; and may the all-bountiful God, in whose 
 name you received me, pay the debt I owe you ! I regret now, that all the 
 time I was in Manchester, I did not once visit Salford : for, now being in 
 Salford, I cannot, with any show of propriety, visit Manchester ; yet, I 
 really must spend a day or two with you before I die, if possible ; that I 
 may once more be happy with you, and talk over old things. Job is now 
 finished, and a hard task I have found it ; — far in difficulty beyond any- 
 thing which had before engaged my thoughts.* If it do not please and 
 profit, I shall sadly grudge time and pains. I have no spirit to begin any 
 more of the Commentary. Such a work, done on my plan, requires more 
 than the life of any human being.” 
 
 Being in London in the early part of February, 1821, and finding 
 that Mr. Benson was dangerously ill, he paid him a visit ; he was then 
 near death. The Doctor, after praying with him, observed, — “ You feel 
 the power of those great truths which you have for so many years 
 declared to us, and find you have not followed a cunningly devised 
 fable.” Mr. B. answered, “ JSTo, no ! my hope of salvation is by grace 
 
 * In a letter to the biographer about the same date, he remarked in a similar 
 strain This is the hardest task I ever undertook, I will venture to say, that no 
 man, for these thousand years past, ever understood the Book, — and still, both the 
 language and matter lie in darkness. The language is a mere compound — and may be 
 termed Idumaico — Arabico — Hehraico — Chaidaico, &c. I have done my best on it, and 
 have brought forth, to its illustration, all the knowledge and skill I possessed.’* 
 
PART VI. — SECTION II. 
 
 153 
 
 through faith.” He died Feb. 16, and was buried in the ground adjoin- 
 ing to the City Eoad Chapel, on Thursday, Feb. 22. Dr. Clarke 
 delivered an impressive address to an immense concourse of people 
 assembled on the occasion, in the course of which he gave a most honour- 
 able testimony to the deceased, as a sound scholar, a powerful preacher, 
 and a profound theologian. In one sentence, he struck off the peculiar 
 character of Mr. Benson as a preacher. ‘‘ You have heard this man’s 
 terrible ministry,” said he ; intimating that it was terrible in itself — no 
 man, for argument and application, having so firm, and so extensive a 
 hold of the conscience as himself — leading his hearers to acknowledge him 
 as a minister of God ; and that it was terrible to such as might be 
 induced to slight it — for having heard him, and yet, under his appeals, 
 remained impenitent, it would be more tolerable for such, than for the 
 inhabitants of Sodom and Gomorrah, in the day of doom. “You have 
 heard this man’s terrible ministry.” If a fuller illustration of his meaning 
 be necessary, it is to be found in a sentence employed in familiar conver- 
 sation with the writer, some time after, and which may be borne out by 
 Mr. Benson’s Sermons on the second coming of Christ, — “ He used to 
 preach sermons enough to alarm hell, and frighten the devil.” The 
 Doctor spoke the more strongly perhaps on this subject, from the great 
 dissimilarity between Mr. Benson’s ministry and his own, — the love of 
 God being his favourite theme. 
 
 Though much pained by Mr. Benson’s ready admission into the 
 Wesleyan Magazine — urged on at the same time by Dr. Bunting and his 
 party — of a number of papers, (many of them ill-argued,) against the 
 Doctrine of the Sonship, yet he felt anxious, he remarked, “ to pay him 
 this last tribute of respect, that if there were anything in his heart con- 
 trary to love, it might go to the grave, and be entombed with the corpse 
 which had just been deposited there.’’ Trivial as this may appear to 
 some persons, it was of importance to the Christian, and showed anxiety 
 to preserve all right within. 
 
 Knowing the Doctor’s wish to possess whatever would tend to elucidate 
 the Sacred Eecords, the biographer directed his attention to a review of 
 Belzoni’s “ Narrative of the Operations and Eecent Discoveries wfithin 
 the Pyramids, Temples, Tombs, and Excavations in Egypt and Nubia, 
 &c.” Among other particulars, the following subject was especially dwelt 
 upon : — “ In a tomb, in the Vale of the Tombs of the Kings, he (Belzoni) 
 found a number of figures and hieroglyphics sculptured in bas-relief and 
 painted over, except in one chamber where the outlines only were given. 
 The greatest care appeared to have been taken to have them accurate ; as 
 several sketches were observed on the walls in red lines, which had after- 
 wards been traced with corrections in black ; the stone seeming then to 
 have been cut away from the side of the chamber all round the black 
 lines, leaving the figure raised to the height of half an inch or more, 
 
154 
 
 ADAM CLAKKE. 
 
 according to its size. A coat of whitewash was then passed over it, which 
 was still so beautiful and clear, that the best white paper appeared 
 yellowish when compared with it. The painter came next, and finished 
 the figure in colours, which after more than 2,000 years retained all their 
 original brilliancy. Among the numerous representations of figures in 
 various positions, one group was singularly interesting, as describing the 
 march of a triumphal procession, with three different sets of prisoners, 
 evidently Jews, Ethiopians, and Persians. Here the Doctor’s attention 
 was riveted ; when it was further observed, that the procession commenced 
 with four red men with white kirtles, followed by a hawk-headed divinity ; 
 these were Egyptians, apparently released from captivity, and returning 
 home under the protection of the national deity. Then followed four 
 white men in striped and fringed kirtles, with black beards, and with a 
 simple white fillet round the head *, these being obviously Jews, and might 
 be taken for the portraits of those, who, in more modern times, walked 
 the streets of London. After these came three white men with smaller 
 beards and curled whiskers, with double-spreading plumes on their heads, 
 tattooed, and wearing robes or mantles spotted like the skins of wild 
 beasts ; these were Persians or Chaldeans. Lastly, followed four negroes 
 with large ear-rings ; and white petticoats supported by a belt over the 
 shoulder ; these being Ethiopians.” It was to Dr. Young, however, that 
 the public were indebted for the illustration of the subject, which 
 heightened Dr. Clarke’s interest in the relation ; who observed, — “ I was 
 prejudiced against Belzoni, because I knew he had formerly exhibited 
 himself on a stage : and was ready, when you named him, to ask, ‘ Can 
 any good thing come from such a Nazareth? ’ You, however, convince 
 me, that I may profit much by his researches.” Further attention being 
 drawn to the subject, plates 6, 7, and 8, were specially noticed, as ex- 
 hibiting the most remarkable feature in the embellishments of the Cata- 
 combs, and serving to elucidate, in a wonderful manner, a point of ancient 
 history, which was the more interesting from the extraordinary coinci- 
 dence of the same event being related in the Sacred Writings and by 
 Herodotus. The plates contained the procession already noticed of native 
 Egyptians, and of captive Ethiopians, Jews, and Persians, each distinctly 
 and characteristically marked in feature, colour and dress ; an event 
 agreeing with the history of the times : for it was ascertained, from 
 the great source of all authentic information relating to ancient 
 history, (the Bible,) that Necho, the father of Psammis, carried on war 
 against the Jews and Babylonians; and Herodotus noticed his expedition 
 against the Ethiopians ; so that the procession might very naturally be 
 considered to represent descriptions of captives made in his wars. The 
 history of Herodotus was then compared with 2 Chron. xxxv. 20 — 24 ; 
 chap, xxxvi. 1 — 4. The Doctor regretted the Narrative had not been 
 published before his Notes on Kings and Chronicles appeared. He was 
 
PART VI. — SECTION II. 
 
 155 
 
 reminded that the Notes on Jeremiah had still to be written, where, in 
 chap. xxii. 11, 12, Shallum or Jehoahaz was mentioned ; the very person 
 led in chains to Egypt, and who possibly was present in the mind of the 
 ancient artist, when he drew his figure on the wall — as the king was 
 much more likely to animate his pencil than any of his subjects ; and 
 also, that the identical battle, noticed 2 Chron. xxxv. xxxvi. chapters, 
 was referred to by Jeremiah, xlvi. 2, &c. ; and which the figures were so 
 well calculated to illustrate. The Doctor, in consequence of this, sent for 
 Belzoni’s narrative ; but it was out of print, and the subject seems after- 
 wards to have escaped his recollection. 
 
 In a correspondence between the present writer and Bigland, the 
 author of Letters on History, some remarks were made on a passage in 
 the Doctor’s Notes on one of the Epistles to the Corinthians, which were 
 communicated to him ; to which the Doctor replied, — “ I thank both 
 Mr. Bigland and yourself for the critique. When I read it I could not 
 believe that I had made the mistake — as I have in my mind, the map of 
 these countries as perfectly as it is down anywhere on paper : nor could 
 I be convinced till I referred to the places : the mistake, however, if pro- 
 perly ascertained by the compass bearings, will be found slighter than at 
 first view may appear. You will find it is laid correctly down in my map 
 postfixed to the Book of Acts. Such communications will always be 
 acceptable to me, and of no mean use to my work.” No credit is here 
 claimed by the biographer ; — it is due alone to Mr. Bigland ; but it is- 
 introduced to show the spirit of the Doctor. 
 
 The la1?ter part of April, and nearly the whole of May, the Doctor 
 was much indisposed; yet he fulfilled various pulpit engagements at 
 Chester, Salford, Manchester, Kidderminster, Stourport, and Birming- 
 ham. On the completion of these he had, according to previous arrange- 
 ment, to pay a visit to Ireland. Though Mr. and Mrs. Forshaw, of 
 Liverpool, and Mr. J. Came, of Penzance, had agreed to go with him^ 
 the family were unwilling that he should take the journey without one of 
 its members ; accordingly, his second son, Mr. Theoderet Clarke, accom- 
 panied him. One part of the plan was, to visit the scenes of his youths 
 and to spend a fortnight at Portstuart for the advantage of sea-bathing. 
 
 Though he coupled a journey of pleasure with his visit to his native 
 country, yet it is doubtful whether he would have been induced to take it 
 precisely at this time, had it not been for an engagement to open a new 
 chapel in Abbey Street, Dublin. A few notes may be here introduced, 
 without professing to follow him through the whole of his movements and 
 remarks. The Doctor domiciled with Mr. Cooke, his brother-in-law, 
 Ormond Quay.* 
 
 * Mr. Cooke was a Law Bookseller, and tke brother of Mrs. Clarke ; a member of 
 the Wesleyan Society, and excelled most men in the literal fulfilment of the Apostolic 
 injunction— “ In everything give thanks.’' Some years previously to this visit, his. 
 
156 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 The service in which he was engaged, commenced in Lower Abbey 
 Street Chapel, June 3, at twelve o’clock in the forenoon. The chapel 
 was crowded to excess. He refused to read Mr. Wesley’s abridgement, 
 and took the full Liturgy. Mr. Charles Mayne, brother of Judge Mayne, 
 of the Irish Bench, and one of the three Benchers stationed in Dublin 
 for the year, read the responses. The Doctor’s text was Deut. iv. 7 — 9. 
 The collection amounted to £140 Os. 2d. He was upon the whole pleased 
 with the chapel ; but expressed his disapprobation of the story over it, 
 intended as a residence for a preacher, the chapel-keeper, and for the 
 accommodation of classes. The following are some remarks made to Mr. 
 Mackey, on his return to Dublin, June 17th : — 
 
 “We reached Belfast on Monday the 4th. Tuesday, 5th, we took 
 the Derry mail, and passed through Antrim to Coleraine, at which latter 
 place we slept. Wednesday and Thursday were spent at the Giant’s 
 Causeway, and along the coast. On Thursday evening, I preached at 
 •Coleraine. Friday, we went to Maghera, and Magherafelt, that I might 
 ^igain see my native cottage. But, alas, scarcely a vestige of it remained. 
 Mr. Holdcroft, who accompanied me from Dublin, took, however, a sketch 
 *of what remained. We were more fortunate with respect to the School- 
 house, to which I first trudged.^' This stood in pristine style ; and of 
 this a sketch was taken. Of the companions of my youth, one survived 
 who remembered me ; another, whom I met, was going on crutches, and 
 •could not recollect me at all. I intended to have sought out two or three 
 more, whom I heard were still living, but finding so much in the decay 
 of nature in the one I had seen, I was unwilling to see any *more of its 
 Tuins. My school-fellow, walking with crutches, reminded me that I also 
 must be old. Got to Antrim about half-past nine, — stopped there 
 about ten minutes, while the chaise was getting ready, and thence to 
 Belfast by half- past twelve. I was in bed an hour and three-quarters ; 
 arose, took the day -mail at five, and got to Dublin at seven on Saturday 
 evening.” 
 
 This was posting indeed ! But thus had he driven, and thus had he 
 attained his eminence in the literary and religious world. He was never 
 very partial, however, to the mode of conveyance in Ireland ; and 
 observed, that he liked those things the least, which had, what might be 
 designated “tow traces.” 
 
 He again preached in Abbey Street Chapel, June 10, at the same 
 
 house took fire in the night, when himself and family were asleep. The good hand of 
 ■Ood, however, preserved them unhurt, though they barely escaped in their night- 
 clothes ; all else falling a prey to the flames. On getting clear of the frightful element, 
 tind seeing all his family around him, he was so filled with gratitude, that he literally 
 shouted for joy. He was a fine specimen of implicit confidence in the wisdom and 
 goodness of God, and of obedience to his laws. 
 
 * Mr. Mackey, who had seen the antiquated building, observed to the writer, that 
 bhe door had neither thumb-piece nor string to lift the latch ; but a round hole into 
 ■which the arm was introduced for the purpose of opening it. 
 
PART VI. — SKCTION II. 
 
 157 
 
 hour as on the Sabbath preceding. His text was John xiv^. 16, 17. This 
 sermon, in the esteem of the best judges who heard it, far exceeded its- 
 predecessor. On both occasions, there were present Fellows of the 
 University, Episcopalian and other ministers, several eminent lawyers^ 
 the Earl and Countess of Belvidere. A powerful impression was made 
 on all classes of persons by this sermon. 
 
 Part of Monday was spent at Black Bock and Dunleary, in search oi 
 minerals. He was presented by his friend Mr. M., with an Irish diamond 
 found in the county of Kerry, and a fine specimen of copper ore, brought 
 from the Lakes of Killarney, To his friend, who presented, them to him,, 
 he said, — “There are none of these studies, which I have not brought to 
 bear on the Word of God, and employed to help me to explain it.” It 
 was his intention after this to go with Mr. Came to the mountains of 
 Wicklow, and to spend a day or two in exploring the mines, and trying 
 to collect what might be allied to the curious and the antique. This was- 
 communicated by a friend to Mr. Hodgins, whose father resided between 
 the towns of Wicklow and Arklow, and had a good collection of minerals- 
 and antiques. But the project terminated with, — “ I would gladly 
 embrace the opportunity ; but the excursion must be given up : Mr. 
 Came has to set off in the morning for Cornwall : if, however, a bargain 
 can be made for any rarity, or a few good mineral specimens, I shall be 
 glad to have them.” Several antiques being noticed ; he observed, as in 
 the case of mineralogy, — “Through the medium of these, I have been 
 able to explain passages in the Bible, which I could not otherwise have^ 
 understood.” 
 
 Mr. Cooke invited several friends to meet the Doctor at dinner 
 among whom was Dr. Paul Johnston, who had been on terms of friend- 
 ship with Lorenzo Dow. Dr. Johnston generally assumed the garb and 
 quietude of a Quaker, but was a Wesleyan in sentiment ; — ^very bene- 
 volent, but touched with eccentricity — a constitutional fault. 
 
 Reference was made to the period when Dr. Clarke travelled in 
 Dublin ; and some points were elicited not yet dwelt upon, which it may 
 be proper to notice. Previously to his appointment to the city, in 1790, 
 Mr. Wesley had requested Mr. Myles to give the cup at White Friars- 
 Street Chapel ; and had himself established service there at eleven o’clock 
 in the forenoon of the Sabbath. A violent clamour was raised against 
 him for these two things, by the leading men. His conduct was much 
 blamed, and his character vilified through the medium of the newspapers. 
 Mr. Wesley deemed it proper to write some letters in his own defence, in 
 which he repelled the imputations, and justified the procedure. Answers 
 to these, as well as the letters themselves, were pubhshed, and are still 
 extant. The ferment was not allayed when Dr. (then Mr.) Clarke was 
 sent thither. Hoping to put an end to the “ strife of tongues,” he dis- 
 continued the eleven o’clock service, which he afterwards regretted; 
 
158 
 
 ADAM CLAKKE. 
 
 stating, on the present occasion, — ‘'It is the only ecclesiastical sin of 
 which I ever was guilty, and I have repented of it ever since. Had 
 service been continued at that hour, there is no doubt it would Lave given 
 permanency to Methodism in the metropolis, and would have led to the 
 introduction of the system in other parts, long ago. The energies of the 
 Methodists would have been employed in the accomplishment of their 
 own work ; and they would not have been mere hewers of wood and 
 drawers of water, as they have long been, for other churches.” Belfast 
 took the lead, in 1820, in establishing service in what are called “ church 
 hours.” Dublin adopted the same plan, a few months previously to the 
 Doctor’s present visit ; and the service in the new chapel was intended to 
 be at the same hour. Some of the leading men in the society, in 1790, 
 joined the Clonites, — so called from the town of Clones, in the county of 
 Managhan, — who separated from the Wesleyan body, in 1816, because the 
 Sacrament was allowed to be administered by the regular travelling 
 preachers. These designated themselves “ Primitive Wesleyan Metho- 
 dists,” professing unalienable attachment to the Church of England. 
 Several of the most respectable and influential of these, who were among 
 the Doctor’s bitterest opponents at the period referred to, called to pay 
 their respects, and press him to their tables. He quietly remarked, 
 somewhat in the style of Johnson to Chesterfield, on their withdrawal, — 
 When I needed their friendship, it was not shown ; but they would 
 appear friendly now, when I need it not.” He consented, however, by 
 way of showing that no hostile feeling was permitted to lodge within his 
 breast, to take breakfast with one of them on the morning of em- 
 barkation. 
 
 Miss Cooke, one of the Doctor’s nieces, was added to the party, and 
 they all sailed for England, June 14, and landed at Liverpool early in 
 the morning of the 15th. It may be remarked, on closing this visit, that 
 the Doctor, soon after his arrival in Dublin, presented a donation of five 
 guineas to the trustees for the new chapel. Previously to his leaving, the 
 trustees enclosed, in a letter, a £10 -note, Irish currency, — in British, of 
 course £9 4s. 7d., and gave it to him to meet his travelling expenses. 
 Just on the point of leaving, he gave Mr. Mackey a letter for Mr. Tobias, 
 which was not to be delivered till after he set sail for England. The 
 letter was like the man : it contained four sovereigns ; — having calculated 
 that the balance would defray his expenses, and being resolved not to 
 profit by the transaction. By looking at his subscription of £5 5s., we 
 find that he took fivepence less than he gave. 
 
 About a month after his return to England, he was elected a member 
 of the Royal Irish Academy ; from the secretary of which, he received a 
 polite letter, intimating that the society would be glad if he would furnish 
 a paper, — leaving the subject to himself. With this request he was 
 disposed to comply, and wrote to a friend to procure for him the “ Trans- 
 
PART VI. — SECTION II. 
 
 159 
 
 actions ” of the Society, that he might not trench upon ground already 
 occupied. In the same month, he regained in loyalty what he might 
 have lost by the appearance of radicalism across the Irish Channel, when 
 he prayed for the Consort of George IV. ; for on the day of His Majesty’s 
 coronation, his domestics, the labourers, together with their wives and 
 children, were favoured with a holiday, and treated with roast beef, 
 plum-pudding, and fruit ; and, in addition to their day’s wages, had silver 
 and copper dealt out to them, according to their age, merits, and ser- 
 vitude ; — the flag joyfully streaming in the wind from morning to evening 
 over the whole. 
 
 It will be remembered, that about this time, 1821, the conduct of the 
 queen, on the Continent, was made the subject of very free and unsparing 
 discussion; several strange accounts were, through the medium of cer- 
 tain papers, so broadly affirmed, and, apparently, so well authenticated, 
 that the Doctor, with many others, was induced to believe they must be 
 true ; and, indeed, expressed a wish to see the king divorced, in order 
 that he might re-marry, have issue, and secure the succession in a direct 
 and indisputable line. While the Ministry was instituting the necessary 
 inquiries on the Continent, and the trial of the queen, which was to result 
 in proofs of her guilt or innocence, was pending, the Doctor forbore to 
 pray for her as queen ; but when that business was ended, and he saw 
 there was not one of the alleged facts proved against her, and, as he 
 observed, “not anything in point of law or justice proved, that should 
 affect the life of a dog ; ” and when afterwards she was acknowledged as 
 queen by the Ministry — by both Houses of Parliament — and by the king 
 himself, in his message to the lower House to make provision for her — 
 then, to use his own language, — “ I saw her innocence established as clear 
 as the unclouded sun at noon-day ; and, as they had now left her queen, 
 and acknowledged her such, he should, from that time, by the help of 
 God, pray for her in his public ministrations ; ” and so indeed he did, in 
 all places where he was appointed to preach ; not, however, without 
 giving umbrage to some ; though, in order to yield as much as he con- 
 scientiously could to what he considered blind or bigoted prejudice, he 
 never mentioned any of her adjuncts, — nor even her name, but simply 
 the title in the phraseology of our Liturgy, — That it may please Thee 
 to bless the queen and all the royal family.” * Upon one occasion of his 
 reading this prayer, the person who acted in the capacity of clerk, 
 adopted the singular and arrogant resolution of refusing to make the 
 response ; as though, as the Doctor expressed himself, under an evident 
 feeling of annoyance, “ the clerk and others who took his part, were 
 better qualified to judge concerning the propriety of praying for the 
 
 * This gave great umbrage to Messrs. J. Bunting and R. Watson, whose hostile feeling 
 to the queen continued, and who frowned upon the venerable Richard Burdsall, bio- 
 grapher, and others, who entertained the views, and pursued the course of Dr. Clarke. 
 
160 
 
 ADA:M CJ.ARXE. 
 
 queen than he was, who knew all the charges brought against her in the 
 original matter ; — who had read every document on the subject, months 
 before the public ever saw them.” well know,” he observed in a 
 letter to a friend, “ the law on the subject ; and that neither the king’^ 
 nor his council, nor the whole bench of bishops, has authority to expunge 
 that prayer in the Liturgy while there is a person in the land legitimately 
 sustaining the title of queen. A royal proclamation is no part of the 
 laws of England, nor indeed has the force of any. For my own part, ne 
 human power could make me desist from what I deem my duty to God 
 and my country : I am not the first to take this consistent and scriptural 
 part, nor shall I be the last ; but while I live, and there is room for it, I 
 shall act as I have done ; ” then, referring to the novelty above set forth, 
 he continued, in a tone of honest and manly indignation, in retrospection 
 of the offered insult, “ Was the mode of treatment, of which you were 
 witness, last Sunday morning, such as it should have been to an old grey- 
 headed minister of Jesus Christ? was it proper behaviour to Adam 
 Clarke, whose life has been spent in the closet and in painful research 
 into the Book of God ; as well as into all points relative to the very 
 subject in question, whether considered in a theological, ecclesiastical, or 
 political relation?” From this extract it appears, that the Doctor’s- 
 resolution of mind was not carried out without concern for the opinions 
 and reflections of those about him ; for it will be seen, that he joined 
 exquisite sensibility v\^ith undaunted firmness ; yet, however unpleasant 
 or painful the struggle between the two might be, he never allowed the 
 clear and cool decision of thought to be overwhelmed by the conflicting 
 emotions of a tender heart ! 
 
 Lord Sidmouth was at this time Secretary of State for the Home 
 Department; and on the visit of George IV., to Dublin, in the month 
 of August, accompanied his Majesty. The royal visit being expected 
 some time, the Irish Conference agreed to present an address to His 
 Majesty on the occasion. Dr. Clarke being at the British Conference, 
 wrote from thence to Lord Sidmouth in reference to this Address ; but 
 dated his letter from White Friars Street, Dublin, and wished his 
 lordship, with a view to prevent delay, to transmit his reply thither. Mr. 
 Mayne took the letter to the Castle, and left it at his lordship’s office. In 
 consequence of its being dated from White Friars Street, his lordship, 
 supposing the Doctor to be there, immediately dispatched a messenger 
 with an answer, begging to see him at the Lord Lieutenant’s residence in 
 the Phoenix Park that evening at five o’clock, or at the Castle the next 
 day. This being the case, Messrs. Tobias and Mayne waited on hi& 
 lordship in the evening, the former explaining to his lordship, that the 
 Doctor had given him authority to open any answer that might be 
 returned. His lordship spoke in the most complimentary terms of the 
 Doctor, and would have had great pleasure in seeing him, as he had not 
 
PART VI. — SECTION II. 
 
 161 
 
 seen him for some time. The Address was duly pres anted by his lordship, 
 and graciously received : and Mr. Mayne, who refused to read the response, 
 and whose refusal might be remotely mixed up with his Majesty’s ex- 
 pected visit, was less disposed after this, to associate anything discordant 
 with the political creed and feelings of his learned countryman. 
 
 Having been pressed to open a new chapel at Ep worth, in Lincoln- 
 shire, the birth-place of the founder of Methodism, the Doctor acceded to 
 the wishes of the friends, and proceeded thither, in company with Mrs. 
 Clarke, about the middle of September, posting it a good part of the 
 way. Mr. Atherton was their travelling companion, who had also 
 engaged to take a part of the services, and was at that time one of the 
 Doctor’s colleagues in the Salford circuit. With the Doctor’s predilection 
 in favour of the curious and antique, every place of interest was examined 
 with care, — the Church, its pulpit, its communion, — the Parsonage-house, 
 erected by old Samuel Wesley, the Sycamore planted by his hand, his 
 tombstone, &c. He gleaned a few anecdotes respecting the “ Wesley 
 Family,” which he afterwards successfully employed in the publication 
 under that title ; and bore off with him, on his departure, with a feeling 
 of triumph, the parlour tongs, with other relics of Samuel Wesley. The 
 
 Eev. Nelson, Rector of Wroote and curate of Epworth, treated 
 
 him with the greatest respect, and gave the fullest scope to every 
 feeling of curiosity and every object of interest. As his visit was gene- 
 rally known, the people watched his progress through the villages, and 
 where an opportunity was afforded, several thrust their hands into the 
 chaise window, to shake hands with him. In one place, where the chaise 
 stopped, he got out, entered a small house, took a piece of bread and a 
 little milk, which were apparently in use with the family, knelt down 
 and gave the people his blessing, not forgetting to leave a more substan- 
 tial token of his benevolent feeling. They dined at Retford on their 
 return ; and from thence to Nottingham, passed through part of Sher- 
 wood Forest. Here, early days stole over his feelings ; and, with 
 astonishing recollection, freedom, precision, and humour, he went over 
 the story of “ Robin Hood ” and his men, which he pictured forth in such 
 vivid colours, that they seemed to constitute a part of the retinue, and to 
 be mingling ever and anon with the ancient oaks by their side, whose 
 sylvan ancestors furnished them with shelter both from their pursuers, 
 and from the heat and the storm. In the course of their drive from 
 Derby, through the vale of Matlock, and onward to Buxton, he was 
 enchanted with the scenery, and rarely had his head within the chaise 
 window, it being the first time he had travelled that way. 
 
 This visit imparted new vigour to his purposes to proceed with the 
 history of the Wesley Family,” respecting which several letters passed 
 between him and the present writer ; part of two of which, as they are 
 somewhat explanatory of the position in which the Doctor stood, and 
 
 VOL. II. L 
 
162 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 show that the failure of the Eesolution of Conference being carried out, 
 was no fault of his, may here be given. 
 
 My dear Everett, — I have been a little puzzled to comprehend 
 how a measure that was so earnestly and solemnly pressed upon me by the 
 brethren at the last Conference, should have occupied so little of their 
 attention since. The fact I believe to be this, that few like trouble ; and 
 to have complied with my desire, would have produced a little trouble, and 
 obliged the brethren to go a little out of their common way, and this 
 they did not like : and one probably thought he might be excused, as he 
 supposed others would more than supply his lack of service. As this 
 impression appears to have been general, I had therefore no communica- 
 tions. Now, indeed, they appear to be a little stirred up, for I have had 
 four or five letters since the publication of mine in the Magazine. The 
 most valuable documents which I have received, since that time, are some 
 MSS. of Mr. Wesley, which had found their way into strange hands, and 
 are now lent to me with much ceremony and restriction. But I shall 
 submit to anything honest to get help. 
 
 I have got that long correspondence that passed between Mr. Wesley 
 and a person signing himself “John Smith,” supposed to have been 
 Archbishop Seeker. The Letters will, I fear, be of little service to me, 
 as they are all written against and for the Witness of the Spirit. Never 
 was Mr. Wesley so nearly matched in learning, temper, and logic. 
 
 I think I shall be able to bring to view several matters relative to the 
 Wesley Family, which have never been before the public. But how shall 
 I mention the fact of Mr. Wesley’s father being in Lincoln Castle for 
 debt, and there preaching, as he terms it, to his “ brother jail-birds ? ” 
 I have two of his letters written from that place of Durance vile ! But 
 do not mention this.* 
 
 Now, with respect to what you have been doing. It does not appear 
 to me, that you could have pursued a more judicious and effective plan. 
 It is by such means alone, the perishing originals of, Methodism can be 
 recovered and preserved. The first, relative to the old man, was within 
 a few days of being irrecoverably lost.f With all my heart, I wish you 
 had a travelling commission over the whole Connexion, that you might 
 glean upon your present plan, everything recoverable. My “ bread and 
 cheese,” I would cheerfully divide with you. In the course of the same 
 year, he again introduced the subject : 
 
 * The whole case having since then been publi^ed by the Doctor himself, in the 
 “Wesley Family,” at once dissolves the bond of secrecy. 
 
 t The Doctor refers to the biographer’s Histories of Methodism in Sheffield and 
 Manchester, and the Vicinity of each, 8vo, and Papers forwarded for the History of 
 the “ Wesley Family.” “The old man” referred to is George Wainwright, of Dore, 
 near Sheffield, aged 107, whose likeness the writer sketched, on his last visit to the 
 house, which likeness, with the portraits of others of patriarchal standing, were 
 sketched in the same way, and engraved for the two Histories. 
 
PART VI.— SECTION II. 
 
 163 
 
 Dear Everett, — As you have taken such an interest in the work 
 which was given me to do, I feel it a sort of duty to afford you some in- 
 formation concerning my progress. But first, I have to return you thanks 
 for the parcel, which, on my way to this place, [Stourport], I met with 
 at Manchester. I have read a good part of your “ History of Methodism 
 in Sheffield ; ” and am going on with it. I feel much pleased with it ; 
 and wish you could go to London, Newcastle, and Bristol, and draw up 
 a similar account. I am sorry that neither what you nor I have said on 
 the subject, seems capable of awakening the Conference to its importance. 
 I hope the petty puerile jealousies which at present operate against such 
 works as these, will cease at least when our heads are laid low. As you 
 are now the prisoner of the Lord in a certain sense, I think you should lay 
 out your accounts to write all you can, to preserve the memorials of the 
 work of the Lord. Our children’s children should not be ignorant of the 
 rising of that little cloud, which has now covered the whole face of heaven, 
 and is pouring out its fertilising contents on every corner of the land. 
 
 After Conference, I gave up my Commentary and every other study, 
 and addressed myself with all the zeal of the warmest partisan, to write 
 the history of the Wesley Family. I hoped the preachers would have 
 brought to me a good harvest of particulars — but was sadly disappointed; 
 — I got only a few letters. From other quarters, I received good mate- 
 rials. I applied personally to Mr. Moore, for the assistance which he was 
 requested by the Conference to afford. His answer, I shall not soon 
 forget; — “I shall be glad to see a Life of Mr. Wesley written by you; 
 and shall give you any help I can in honour ; but I will not let you have 
 the use of the Papers of Mr. Wesley, confided to me.” I was not a little 
 surprised. You know that Mr. Wesley’s Will, in reference to these 
 Papers, ran thus : — “ I give all my Papers to Dr. Whitehead, Dr. Coke, 
 and Mr. Moore, to be published or burnt, as they see good.” W^hen 
 Dr. Whitehead had done with these Papers, he gave them to Mr. Pawson, 
 to be delivered to Dr. Coke and Mr. Moore. Mr. Pawson burnt many 
 hundreds, and many he gave away to his friends ; the rest were sent to 
 Mr. Moore. Now, these, according to the Will, should be burnt or pub- 
 lished — if in being, (which they are,) they should be delivered to me, as 
 they must now be the property of the Conference. If they be not all 
 delivered to me, 1 will not write the Life, unless they be all published or 
 all burnt. The moment he refused them, I said, “ Sir, I will deliver up 
 to you, all the original papers and collections in my possession, and you 
 shall write the Life ; and I will, besides, give you all the assistance in my 
 power.” This was refused on the ground, that the Conference had ap- 
 pointed me to the work. I then thought I would divide the Wesley 
 family into two parts ; — the upper and the lower, — and write the history 
 of the upper, and leave subsequent matters to the workings of Providence. 
 I began, and have now, through the good hand of God upon me, written 
 
 L 2 
 
164 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 distinct memoirs, 1. — Of Bartholomew Wesley, rector of Charmouth, 
 Mr. Wesley’s great grandfather. 2. — Of John Wesley, vicar of Whit- 
 church, Dorset, Mr. Wesley’s grandfather. 3.^ — Of Mr. Matthew Wesley, 
 surgeon, Mr. Wesley’s grand-uncle. 4. — Of Mr. Samuel Wesley, rector 
 of Epworth, Mr. Wesley’s father. 5. — Of Dr. Annesley, Mr. Wesley’s 
 maternal grandfather. 6. — Of Samuel Annesley, merchant, Mr. Samuel 
 Wesley^ brother-in-law. 7. — Of Miss Eliza Annesley, afterwards 
 
 D unton, Dr. Annesley’s daughter. 8. — Of Miss S. Annesley, afterwards 
 Wesley, Mr. Wesley’s mother. On these, I have written nearly 400 
 large, close quarto pages, and have brought out a number of facts and 
 incidents of which the public and the Methodists know very little. My 
 wife is transcribing them, and when done, I shall send them to the Book 
 Committee to be disposed of as they think proper. These Lives contain 
 the upper family: Samuel, John, and Charles, with their seven sisters, 
 include the lower ; and for all these, many original materials are already 
 collected. But I shall not touch Mr. Wesley’s history, unless I get the 
 papers, or am sure that they, and all copies, are burnt. I have rescued 
 many parts just in the way, and as near perdition as those you rescued 
 from old Wainwright. But you see, I am to be thwarted in the work, 
 w^hich the Conference desired me, by a strong and solemn vote, to accom- 
 plish. I thank you for the three autograph letters, and doubly so for the 
 permission to keep them.* Of Kezzy, I had no letter, till yours came to 
 hand ; that of Mrs. Wesley supplied an important date ; and that of 
 Martha (not Mrs. Wright, but Mrs. Hall) will connect with a new 
 memoir of her Life, in which her conduct in reference to her sister Kezzy, 
 jilted by IMr. Hall, will be set in a glorious light. With Mrs. Hall, I had 
 the honour of being acquainted. I shall now take up Mr. Wesley’s, 
 sisters, and his brother Samuel : — if I get the papers, John and Charles. 
 — I believe Mr. Entwisle has many of the Wesley papers, which were 
 given him by Mr. Pawson ; but I need not ask them. I never had any 
 misunderstanding with him, but I believe he never loved me : — if you 
 could hint it to him, it might be well ; — but I despair of any help from 
 the quarter. t Your’s affectionately, — A. Clarke. 
 
 The history of the “ Wesley Family,” intimations of which have 
 more than once crossed the path of the reader, was at length published by 
 the Book-Boom, in one volume, 8vo., the copy wright of which edition the 
 Doctor presented to the Connexion, and for which he received the “ most 
 cordial thanks of the Conference ” of 1822. It was subsequently enlarged 
 to twice its original size, and published in two thick 12mo. vols., in com- 
 panionship with his “ Miscellaneous Works,” after his demise. 
 
 ♦ The letters, and other papers, forwarded by the biographer to Dr. Clarke, were 
 among those which fortunately escaped the fire lit up by Mr. Pawson. 
 
 t Mr. Entwisle was under the sole influence of Mr. Bunting, which at once banished 
 all hope of help; an influence fatal, in many cases, to private friends, as well as to 
 Methodism generally. 
 
PART VI. — SECTION II- 
 
 165 
 
 Having, in the course of the autumn, received various presents of 
 game, from the Derby family, who had visited Millbrook, and manifested 
 more than ordinary respect for himself and family, he occasionally trans- 
 mitted a portion to London, accompanied with some unusually playful 
 epistles, one of the least gay of which may here be subjoined : — 
 
 To John Wesley Clarke, Theodoret Samuel Clarke, James Hook, 
 Eliza Hook, James Clarke Hook, John Logan Hook ; — Dear Children : — 
 Earl Derby has this day sent me two golden pheasants and a hare ; which, 
 with one consent, all join in presenting to you, and hope they will prove 
 some of the best of their kind. We have no doubt, if you can make 
 room, that you will invite Thrasyles and Adam to partake of the noble 
 fare ; and I hope Eliza will have two shares for dressing them, and James 
 a share and a-half for house-room ; and that the Bachelors will be obliged 
 to find the wine as a tax on their celibacy. 
 
 Sarah Cooke set off on Thursday, and after having encountered a 
 dreadful storm, they put back, after twenty-four hours, to Liverpool, all 
 but a wreck. She sailed in the ShamrocTc yesterday morning, — weather 
 good, — wind so-so. 
 
 The “ Original Letters of John Wesley and his Friends,” published 
 by Dr. Priestly, Birmingham, 1791, are sold by Johnson, St. Paul’s 
 Churchyard. You may probably get a copy there for me. All send 
 their hearty love to you, with dear John and Co. 
 
 Your affectionate Father, — A Clarke. 
 
 Dr. Clarke, having reprinted a few copies of the Kepublican Preface 
 to Walton’s Polyglott Bible, and also some Titles to the Paris Polyglott, 
 as well as that of the London, Surgeon Blair informed his Poyal High- 
 ness the Duke of Sussex of the fact, who, in return, requested him to 
 address the Doctor on the subject, and solicit a copy of the former, in 
 order to perfect one in the possession of his Koyal Highness. Some 
 letters passed between T. J. Pettigrew, Esq., and the Doctor, at the 
 instance of his Boyal Highness : the copies were promptly forwarded, 
 and the Doctor was pressed by his Eoyal Highness to call at Kensington 
 Palace, on the event of his visiting the metropolis: he did so in the 
 month of May, when he went up to London, to preach before the 
 Missionary Society in Great Queen Street and City Road Chapels, and 
 to assist at the Missionary Meeting. The collections after the two 
 sermons, amounted to about £00, besides £250, w^hich he had jiiit into 
 his hand by a friend the preceding Friday, which he presented to the 
 meeting. 
 
 The Doctor, in his speech, combated the Popish error of withholding 
 the Scriptures from the people, as urged in a pamphlet which had been 
 published by a Roman Catholic priest, against the Bible Society ; and 
 
166 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 the opposite error, maintained by others, who deemed the Bible alone 
 sufficient for the conversion of the world, without the preaching of the 
 gospel. On quoting that passage, — “ Is not my word a hammer, that 
 breaketh the rock in pieces?” he observed, “We have the hammer, it is 
 true ; but we need the vigorous and divinely nerved arm to lift it, in 
 order to dash the sinful, obdurate rock in pieces. The Bible and 
 Missionary Societies must go hand in hand, and, if we send both, we 
 have the world at command. God has opened all its great roads, and 
 passages before us. On ordinary occasions, we might see the finger of 
 the Lord, — on occasions a little more extraordinary, his hand, — but on 
 occasions like these, we may, if I might so express myself, see his arm, 
 in sending forth his word.” After descanting on other topics, he pro- 
 ceeded, “ I once thought, how shall the world be converted? When I 
 first felt a concern for immortal spirits, no nation confined my wishes, 
 feelings, desires, prayers ; but it seemed to be beyond calculation how the 
 word of God could be sent to the different nations of the earth. I saw 
 that its languages were so different, so numerous, so intricate, that it 
 seemed scarcely possible. I read Bishop Wilkins with deep attention, 
 and felt great interest in his attempts to form an universal language, but 
 I found that his plan was only to form a philosophical one. I afterwards 
 met with an attempt by another person. I took up that with interest, 
 and was, as before, disappointed. But when I saw that God had 
 inspired modern Missionaries with a peculiar aptitude for learning lan- 
 guages, and sent them to the East, I felt the Pentecostal times were 
 about to be realised. I prayed for the life of Carey, and Marshman, 
 and Ward, as for the life of a father, and was afraid lest every arrival 
 should inform us that these great men had died in their work ; but they 
 are alive still. I saw a most promising Mission at Ceylon, rising exactly 
 in the same way ; the gift of tongues, in this sense, is given also there, 
 and now the Word of God is widely circulated, and the kingdom of God 
 is coming with rapidity and power.” Mr. Butterworth, who presided on 
 the occasion, observed with grateful feeling, “ that it was twenty-five 
 years that month, since his excellent friend and brother. Dr. Clarke, 
 gave him a note of Admission into the Methodist Society.” On the 14th 
 of the same month, the Doctor preached and presided at a Missionary 
 Meeting at Dudley ; on the 23rd at Sheffield ; and in November, took the 
 chair at one in Salford, when a friend gave him £70, to present to the 
 meeting ; and another in the course of the same month, in Liverpool. 
 His whole soul was imbued with a Llissionary spirit. 
 
 The Duke of Sussex, having been apprised of his being in the city, 
 sent an invitation to him to dine the next day at Kensington Palace. 
 On his arrival at the Palace, he was received by his Koyal Highness in 
 his closet, and was conducted by himself through his library, when he 
 was shown several curious and rare works. On his Koyal Highness 
 
PAKT VI. — SECTION II. 
 
 167 
 
 proposing any question to fhe Doctor, wliicli elicited remarks of a 
 literary character, he requested his Librarian to make a memorandum of 
 the same. After passing through the general library, the Doctor was 
 next taken into what he termed his Royal Highness’ “ Sanctum 
 Sanctorum,” where his choice selection of rare works were properly 
 classified and shelved: ‘‘ There,” said his Royal Highness,. pointing to a 
 certain part of the shelves, “ There is your Bibliographical Dictionary, 
 Dr. Clarke, and there are other writers on Bibliography, but I prefer 
 your work to the whole.” This might have been construed into a mere 
 compliment ; but here comes the proof of his Royal Highness’ sincerity : 
 I have carefully read your work. Doctor, and long ago made up my 
 mind, to possess myself of every work noticed by you, with approbation ; 
 and if you look around, you will find that I have nearly accomplished 
 my purpose.” The Doctor felt the compliment, but in order to defend 
 himself against becoming responsible for the whole, and to throw his 
 Royal Highness more immediately back upon himself, in the exercise of 
 his own judgment and observation, remarked, “ Your Royal Highness, I 
 have added many other books in an interleaved copy,* and have made 
 at least between one and two thousand corrections, since that work was 
 published, — for there are many errors in it, some through inattention in 
 transcribing, some through the carelessness of the printer, and some 
 owing to my absence from the press.” His Royal Highness then inquired 
 why he did not publish it? The Doctor pleasantly replied — knowing 
 withal that it was only a work for the few, — “ It will take a great deal 
 of money to bring it into the market.” The Duke with equal pleasantry, 
 and not less sincerity, said, “We will help you. Dr. Clarke.” 
 
 The party that met on the occasion, consisted of Dr. Parr, Sir 
 Anthony Carlisle, the Rev. T. Maurice of the British Museum, the 
 
 Honourable Gower, Colonel Wildman, Sir Alexander Johnstone, 
 
 Lord Blessinton, T. J. Pettigrew, Esq., and Dr. Clarke. They sat 
 down to dinner about seven o’clock, and closed about half-past nine, re- 
 tiring into the Pavilion, where tea and coffee were served about eleven. 
 “The conversation,” in the Doctor’s own language, “was unique, 
 curious, and instructive. The party left about twelve o’clock, with 
 the exception of the Doctor, who, at the request of his Royal Highness, 
 tarried behind ; who beckoned to him to take a seat by his side, where a 
 familiar conversation was carried on between them on various subjects. 
 The Doctor rising, his Royal Highness took him by the hand, stating 
 that he should be happy to see him some morning, when alone, the time of 
 which should be arranged between his secretary and the Doctor, and so 
 
 * This copy was purchased by Mr. Tegg, with the Doctor’s Miscellaneous Works,” 
 and was in his hand when last seen by the biographer; but not being a work for the 
 mass of the people, he stated his disinclination to hazard an edition, — doubting whether 
 it would remunerate him for the expense of publishing. 
 
168 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 bade him a friendly “ good night,” when he found to his surprise, one of 
 the royal carriages in waiting to convey him to his lodgings. The 
 esteem of his Eoyal Highness could not but be sincere, from the fact of 
 his repeated visits to Dr. Clarke, on the latter taking up his residence at 
 Haydon Hall, and the still further fact of his expressing a wish that the 
 Doctor would sit to an artist for his bust, which he wished to preserve as 
 a memento of his regard for his character.* 
 
 Dr. Clarke left London, May 10th, and on his arrival at Birmingham, 
 where his friend Mr. T. Hickling, of Bartholomew Square, was waiting 
 to receive him, he remarked in a letter to his son-in-law, Mr. Hook — 
 “We got on well, except a little before we came to Oxford, when one of 
 our horses taking fright at a drove of pigs, was within a liair’s-breadth of 
 overturning the coach; we were indeed all but gone, but, through 
 mercy, saved.” He added among other miscellaneous matter, — “ I am 
 summoned back to London. What shall I do ? I have engagements to 
 the 25th. The Duke of Sussex wishes to see me as soon as possible ; and 
 Professor Lee is coming up on Tuesday, from Cambridge, to consult with 
 me on the great subject, and I cannot reach him with a letter before he 
 sets off.” 
 
 Being comfortably seated with Mr. Hickling, in the bosom of his 
 family, and being questioned on the subject of his visit to the metropolis, 
 the Doctor adverted to a part of the conversation which took place in the 
 course of his visit to Kensington Palace, which referred to the “ Sublime ; ” 
 when one of the party complimented Longinus, on his selection of the 
 nobly expressed sentiments of the Jewish Legislator, as one of the finest 
 in the sacred records, — not omitting the particularity in the manner of 
 its quotation, — “And God said, — what ? — let there be light, and there 
 
 * There were many fine traits in the character of his Eoyal Highness the Duke of 
 Sussex. The following relation by Dr. Heugh, at a meeting held in Edinburgh, to 
 hear the report of the deputation from the Voluntary Church Association, referring to 
 an interview with the Duke of Sussex, is not without interest : — “ There is one 
 anecdote,” said the Doctor, “ of his Eoyal Highness, which I would wish the meeting 
 to hear, for I am sure they would long remember it. He said to us, ‘ Gentlemen, I am 
 sixty -five years old. Thirty-five of these years have been spent in indisposition ; that 
 sobers a man, that makes a man think, that corrects many opinions he may have enter- 
 tained in former years. It has done so with me. I have been accustomed every 
 morning alone to read two hours in the Bible before breakfast ; and if a man read that 
 book as he ought to do, he, in some measure, becomes inspired by it.’ His Eoyal High- 
 ness then went on to give some comments on different passages of the Scriptures. He 
 is a distinguished linguist, and the first thing we did, when we visited him in Kensing- 
 ton, was to go to his library, which consists of 1,500 copies of the Bible in all languages 
 and editions, being the most perfect collection certainly in this kingdom, and perhaps 
 the most perfect in the world. Its cost is estimated at £40,000, or £50,000. His Eoyal 
 Highness commented on a passage quoted irom Isaiah by the apostle in his Epistle to 
 the Corinthians, ‘ Death is swallowed up in victory,’ ‘The root of the word victory,’ 
 he observed, ‘ ought properly to have been translated eternitj’-, so that the most correct 
 reading of the passage would be. Death is swallowed up in eternity.’ I mention this to 
 show that his Eoyal Highness is not a mere cursory or formal reader of the Bible, 
 but that he thinks deeply of what he reads.” 
 
PART VI. — SECTION II. 
 
 169 
 
 was light. Let the earth be, and the earth was.” Dr. Clarke remarked^ 
 that there were passages in the sacred writings, which, in his judgment, 
 were distinguished for a sublimity superior to that of the one quoted ; 
 instancing as an example, Isaiah Ivii. 15, — “ For thus saith the high and 
 lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, whose name is Holy ; I dwell in the 
 high and holy place,”— - insisting particularly upon his ‘‘inhabiting 
 eternity.” Whether the superior claims sought, were ceded to the passage, 
 was not stated ; but all admired its sublimity, and no one — not even Dr. 
 Parr — preferred an objection against the arguments and illustrations 
 employed to establish its ascendancy to the throne. 
 
 He paid another visit to the metropolis in the month of J uly, at the 
 close of which, he was elected President of the Methodist Conference for 
 the third time ; the first instance of a third election since the days of 
 Mr. Wesley, who invariably presided in the annual assemblies of his 
 preachers. At this Conference, it was urged upon the preachers to be 
 more frequent and fervent in prayer, for the abundant outpouring of the 
 Holy Spirit, and to employ every possible means to effect so desirable an 
 object among the people : and it should seem that God was not unmindful 
 of the prayers of his servants, for in the course of the year, from July 
 1822, to July 1823, an accession of 25,533 members was made to the 
 Wesleyan Methodist Societies throughout the world, under the British, 
 Irish, and American Conferences, exclusive of regular travelling 
 preachers, supernumerary, and superannuated preachers. A general 
 tract committee was also formed, which, since then, has done an incal- 
 culable amount of good. It was at this Conference too, that the Eeso- 
 lution of thanks was proposed to the Doctor for his present of the 
 “ Memoirs of the Wesley Family,” to the Connexion. 
 
 On his return to Millbrook, the Doctor wrote to his eldest daughter ; 
 and the letter is the more readily introduced here, because of his opinion 
 of a work of some celebrity at the time when he wrote. 
 
 My dear Annie, — We got home safely last evening, and found all 
 well ; we were sadly fatigued and oppressed with heat and dust. Do not 
 
 prevent F from obeying the summons of the committee, — let him go ! 
 
 I dare say you have heard that we ended the Conference well : I think 
 the preachers were never better pleased, and I have ninety-nine hearts 
 and hands out of every hundred ! I am reading Barry O’Meara’s 
 *‘ Voice from St. Helena ; ” one of the most interesting books I have ever 
 seen, with every characteristic of truth. When they hear of the indig- 
 nities and cruelties which Napoleon suffered from that consummate, 
 
 ineffable rascal, even his enemies will drop a tear for him, vEile Lord 
 
 will have none to lament his death : yet he was not his most immediate 
 tormenter! Sir H. L will have his name handed down to ever- 
 
 lasting fame ! The Ministry — by dismissing O’Meara from the service, 
 
170 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 have put the broad seal of the kingdom to the truth of his statements ; 
 'poveri imhecili ! Write and tell me if Nightingale be come. Love to 
 all. Your affectionate father, — A. Clarke. 
 
 Among other conversations on the subject of Missions at home and 
 abroad, at the Conference, several details were entered into respecting the 
 Hebrides, Orkneys, and especially the Shetland Isles ; the latter of which 
 were not adequately supplied with Christian instruction. Dr. McAllum, 
 on an arrangement made by the President of the Conference, the Pev. G. 
 Marsden, when at Glasgow, on the 20th of June, sailed for Lerwick, in 
 order to ascertain the real moral and religious condition of the islands of 
 which it is the capital. His report, which is published in his “ Remains,” 
 pp. 85 — 116, and which was impressively and vividly placed before the 
 brethren, produced the resolution of sending the needful aid, so soon as 
 circumstances would admit. Dr. McAllum, with whom the biographer 
 was well acquainted, was admirably qualified for the mission on which he 
 was sent : he had a fine intellect, and a benevolent heart, but was cut off 
 in the sunshine of usefulness and popular favour, 1827, in the thirty - 
 third year of his age. His tale of woe affected Dr. Clarke, who, on his 
 return home, wrote to Robert Scott, Esq., of Pensford, on the subject, 
 who generously offered £100 per annum for the support of a missionary 
 to Zetland, and £10 towards the erection of every chapel that should be 
 erected in the islands. To Mr. Scott’s benefactions, others were added 
 from Mrs. Scott, Miss Grainger, of Bath, and others, personal friends of 
 the Doctor. The Rev. Messrs. S. Dunn and J. Raby, who both had an 
 interview with the Doctor at Millbrook, and received instructions from 
 him, relative to the mission, were the first who were sent out ; and their 
 united labours were not in vain in the Lord. The principal weight of 
 providing for this mission lay upon Dr. Clarke, who wrote, travelled, 
 preached, and begged for it, far and near, among friends and strangers, 
 and who, for the missionaries as well as the people, felt all the tender 
 solicitude of a parent. Death alone put a period to his toils in this 
 sacred cause. Messrs. J. Bunting and E. Watson, two of the general 
 secretaries at the Mission House, drew in the same yoke together, and 
 manifested anything but a friendly co-operation with Dr. Clarke ; which, 
 from the general expression of their zeal in the cause of missions, could 
 only resolve itself into personal prejudice in the minds of many of the 
 thoughtful and candid people. To enlarge here, however, becomes the 
 less necessary, as the subject will again be adverted to, in the course of 
 the memoir, and as the thirteenth volume of the Doctor’s “ Miscellaneous 
 Works,” furnishes both a detailed and comprehensive view of the mission 
 up to the period when he exchanged worlds. 
 
 Dr. Clarke, in common with all who knew him, but more especially as 
 a fellow-labourer in the British and Foreign Bible Society,” deeply 
 
PART VI. — SECTION II. 
 
 171 
 
 regretted the death of the Kev. John Owen, one of the distinguished 
 secretaries of that Institution, which took place at Eamsgate, on Thurs- 
 day, the 26th of September. As an eminent instrument in the Divine 
 hand of consolidating and extending this great society, this excellent 
 man had successfully devoted his powerful talents for upwards of eighteen 
 years. Directed as these talents were, by a candid and conciliatory 
 spirit, he left an impression of regard on all who had the happiness to 
 act with him, which no time could efface ; and Dr. Clarke was emphati- 
 cally one of that number. The biographer has listened with delight to 
 this highly-gifted man, who was as one that playeth well upon an instru- 
 ment, and whose instrument was always in tune. 
 
 Resolutions having been entered into, in the course of the recent Con- 
 ference, (though not published in the printed Minutes,) respecting the 
 distressing circumstances in which the Irish preachers were placed, in 
 reference to their financial affairs, a circular, embracing a foolscap folio 
 sheet, was sent “ To the Methodist Preachers in Great Britain,” ex- 
 plaining the whole case, and containing an appeal to their generosity. 
 This was signed by the president and secretary of the Conference, and 
 was followed by another touching appeal in the Doctor’s individual 
 character, the beneficial effect of which was substantially felt by his 
 countrymen across the water, who knew that they had in him “ a friend 
 that sticketh closer than a brother.” His circular v/as dated “Mill- 
 brook, October 21, 1822,” and it was intimated to him by one of the 
 brethren in the metropolis, that there was good reason to hope that the 
 appeal would realise £1,000. 
 
 Toward the close of the year, the Doctor presented his Royal 
 Highness the Duke of Sussex with a copy of as much of his Commentary 
 as was then completed, embracing the Pentateuch, Joshua, Judges, and 
 the Hew Testament, with a promise of the remaining Books when pub- 
 lished, accompanied with a long letter containing a general account of 
 the literary labour in which the principal part of his life and strength 
 had been spent, stating that, “ were the work then to commence, millions 
 of silver and gold would not, with the knowledge he had of its difficulty, 
 induce him to undertake it.” The gift was condescendingly acknow- 
 ledged by his Royal Highness, in a long letter written by his own 
 hand. The Commentary, however, appeared to be on the eve of being 
 prematurely closed, by a dreadful storm in the early part of December, 
 which, through its terrific ravages, threatened the utter destruction not 
 only of the Doctor’s house, but of the lives of the whole of its inmates. 
 In Liverpool, where the full sweep of the tempest was also felt, several 
 lives were lost. The premises at Millbrook were left in a sadly dilapidated 
 state ; but all were grateful for the preservation of life. 
 
 In the month of January, 1823, the Doctor was elected a member of 
 the Geological Society, in London ; and, at the request of Sir Alexander 
 
172 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 Johnstoce, allowed himself also to be nominated for the Royal Asiatic 
 Society, of which he was duly elected a member in the following month. 
 
 ISTotwithstanding the delight which Dr. Clarke took in the oriental 
 languages, and the knowledge he had acquired of the literature, arts, and 
 sciences of Asia, he was no less partial to what was nearer home, and 
 frequently referred with pleasure to the power and simplicity of the 
 Anglo-Saxon language; entering, with Bosworth, in his Saxon Grammar, 
 into all the minutiae of grammatical criticisms, descanting on its trans- 
 parency, and its amazing facility of composition, not forgetting the 
 analogy of other languages ; and thus showing how a comparatively dry 
 subject might become the handmaid to divine truth. Without advert- 
 ing to conversational remarks, he has assigned sufficient reasons in his 
 Notes for giving the c. and cxiv. Psalms, and ir, or from verse 161 to 
 verse 168 of the cxix. Psalm, in Saxon, with a literal English version. 
 One of the finest specimens, perhaps, of the Anglo-Saxon is, a conversa- 
 tion between Boethius and King Alfred on the Freedom of the Will. 
 
 The spring of the year was laboriously filled up between the Doctor's 
 ordinary pulpit work, his Commentary, his general Correspondence on 
 Connexional subjects, as President, and his attendance on public meet- 
 ings, in different directions ; — having either taken the chair, preached, or 
 otherwise interested himself, on Missionary occasions, in the months of 
 March, April, and May, at Warrington, Liverpool, Manchester, Bath, 
 London, and other places. Yet, in the social circle, there was no 
 appearance of lassitude as the effect of excessive toil. A subject was the 
 only thing necessary, as at other times, to draw him out ; and wffien there 
 was lack on the part of others, he threw a remark, like a ball into a ring, 
 when needful, for others to foot. Hooke’s “ Roman History” being noticed, 
 and the fact of a gentleman of the name of Hooke being mentioned in 
 one of the early Minutes of Conference, as attending the Church Service, 
 the Doctor remarked, — “ The Methodists are not generally aware, that it 
 is the historian, and that he was originally a Roman Catholic Priest.” — 
 That he was an admirer of Fenelon, whose life he translated from the 
 French, — that he attended Pope on his death-bed, and brought him a 
 priest, for which he incurred the abuse of Bollingbroke, — that he was the 
 correspondent of Harley, Earl of Oxford, — that he received £5,000 from 
 the Duchess of Marlborough for writing the book, entitled, ‘ An Account 
 of her conduct,’ — that he left two sons, one of whom became a clergy- 
 man of the Church of England, and the other a Doctor of the Sorbonne, 
 — and that he was a Romanist, was familiar to those who were 
 acquainted with Nichols’s Bowyer ; but his alliance to the priestly office 
 was information, while his sons Avere proofs, that not only the sacred 
 office had been renounced, but its unnatural appendage— celibacy. 
 Whence the Doctor had his information, was not stated ; but if Hooke 
 had been educated for the priesthood, and had ever officiated at the altar. 
 
PART VI. — SECTION II. 
 
 173 
 
 it must have been in early life, and not generally known. A young 
 friend being seated next the Doctor at table, who had resided under his 
 roof, and with whom he was on the most familiar terms, was accosted, — 
 We shall be glad to see you back again, John, for I can assure you, 
 that you have left a night’s lodgings behind you yet : ” then, playfully — 
 having been helped to the wing of a fowl, and passing it on to him — said, 
 Here, John, eat that for me ; I have done as much for you in another 
 way, before now, and will do as much again.” Heathenism being intro- 
 duced, with all it had to offer to the intellect and to the heart, he said, — 
 “ You may as well attempt to suck milk out of a goat’s horn, as to 
 abstract support or consolation from paganism : ” then, adverting to a 
 popular preacher, who had done good service to the cause of Missions, he 
 observed, — “ He has cultivated the preaching talent the most highly of 
 any man among us ; he can go and preach his sermons verbatim ; his 
 prayers are the same ; both of which I have heard, not only in the city 
 but in the provinces.” 
 
 Few men enjoyed more domestic comfort than Dr. Clarke; and, 
 owing to the art of managing them, he was generally well served by his 
 servants. He would say, — “ It is so extremely difficult to get good 
 servants, that Ave should not lightly give them up when even tolerable. 
 My advice is — Bear a little with them, and do not be too sharp ; pass by 
 little things with gentle reprehension : now and then, a little serious 
 advice does far more good than sudden fault-finding when the offence 
 just occurs. If mjr Mary had not acted in this way, we must have been 
 continually changing ; and nothing can be more disagreeable in a family ; 
 and, indeed, it is generally disgraceful. ‘ She is continually changing 
 her servants,’ is the phrase by which ill-tempered and unreasonable 
 mistresses are generally characterised, by their neighbours, and those who 
 know them : and this will equally apply to masters.” His opinion of the 
 metropolitan servants was very low: ‘‘ London,” said he, “speedily ruins 
 the best of servants ; one London girl will spoil a regiment of those who 
 come from the country ; they make it their business to corrupt them, — to 
 render them disaffected with their masters and mistresses, and to be discon- 
 tented with their wages. These are among their first endeavours.” 
 
 His joy was heightened, in his religious connections, by the tidings 
 received of the success of the Zetland Mission, from Messrs. Dunn and 
 Baby : and with a view, not only to enlarge their knowledge, but with a 
 remote intention of writing a history of the Islands, he proposed a string 
 of queries to them respecting the Islands and their productions — grain, 
 seed, &c., — horticulture and planting, — fish, — fowls, — beasts, — inhabi- 
 tants,— food, — implements, — treatment of women and children, — trades, 
 — vices, — pastimes, religion, — language, — literature, — popular supersti- 
 tions, — population, — diseases, — laws, — courts of justice, — phenomena, — 
 letting of lands, — rents, — tenures, — taxations, — civil and religious con- 
 
174 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 tracts, &c. &c., — which they were to answer, as far as they could, with- 
 out interfering with their regular work. The Doctor, in his review of 
 the Life of Sir William Jones, adverts to certain questions which that 
 great man intended to propose on his going out to India: that those 
 of Sir William were a remote reflection in the mind of Dr. Clarke, 
 when he proposed the queries referred to, is likely enough, for they are 
 perfectly in keeping with his habit and principle of • seeking and inter- 
 meddling with all wisdom. 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 1823 . 
 
 Having to preside at the Irish Conference, Dr. Clarke left Millbrooky 
 May 26th, 1823, accompanied by a friend, and his daughter Mary Ann. 
 The Eev. James Miller had written to him previously, to preach a sermon 
 at Carlisle, on his way to Scotland, which he had to visit on his route to 
 Dublin ; grounding his request on a promise made by the Doctor several 
 years before. One whole day, during the present visit, was devoted to 
 the inspection of the city, — its cathedral, churches, castle, courts, and 
 other objects of note, wdiich, in his well-stored mind, awakened various 
 historical recollections. Passing through Dumfries, he met with an old 
 man who was personally acquainted with Robert Burns, and received 
 some curious information from him respecting the poet. With Burns’^ 
 monument he was disappointed, and was equally so with Lanark, as a 
 town, at which the party dined. Edinburgh was reached on the evening 
 of the 28th, the day they left Carlisle. The chief objects of attraction to 
 the party in this city, were, Holyrood House, Arthur’s Seat, Calton Hill, 
 and the Castle. The Doctor preached twice ; at the chapel in Nichol- 
 son’s Square, in the morning, and at Leith in the evening. After the 
 evening service, he supped with his friend, the Rev. J. E. (now Doctor) 
 Beaumont ; in the course of which, he observed, that he wished to see him 
 (Mr. Beaumont,) early the next morning ; designedly omitting to name 
 the occasion, out of reverence to the Sabbath, as it was a journey of 
 pleasure he had in contemplation. 
 
 The proposed excursion was to the Pentland Hills, where he had 
 some reason to believe he should find, on the river Logan, Habie’s How, 
 and other places, described by Allan Ramsay, in his “ Gentle Shepherd;” 
 a poem he had read when a boy, and whose pictorial descriptions were 
 still vividly embodied in his recollection. The Doctor, his daughter, Mr. 
 Smith, Mr. and Mrs. Beaumont, and Mr, Darling, formed the party ; 
 the last named gentleman, acting, — from his knowledge of the country, — 
 
FART VI. — SECTION III. 
 
 175 
 
 as guide. On coming to a deep glen, toward what is called Habie’s 
 How, it was found impracticable to take the carriage any further. On 
 reaching a small hut, into which they were admitted, they took some 
 refreshment, after which, the Doctor took off his hat and made a collec- 
 tion, binding every one to give silver, the whole of which he poured into 
 the apron of the female, the mistress of the hovel, who stood speechless 
 before her visitors, while the Doctor was still more happy than herself in 
 all the glory of his benevolence. The four gentlemen left the ladies with 
 their humble hostess, and proceeded two or three miles up the glen. 
 They at length reached the spot which approached nearest to the descrip- 
 tion of the poet, and which, Mr. Darling observed, was believed, by 
 many, to have been the scene of this beautiful pastoral comedy. En- 
 closed among some hills, was a small lake ; the scenery was sterile, and 
 fell short of the impressions the Doctor had received in his perusal of the 
 poem, and of the painting and imagery of the poet : disappointment was 
 the result, with a conviction that the Esk, rather than the Logan, was 
 the place towards which he should have bent his steps for the scene. He 
 gazed, however, some time in silence, and after philosophising and moral- 
 ising, he collected some minerals from the margin of the lake, which he 
 intended to preserve as a memento of their visit to the place. 
 
 The gentlemen, after a fatiguing journey over rocks and rivulets, and 
 amidst hills and dales, returned to the ladies ; but, alas, the carriage had 
 disappeared. Search was made among the hills, but in vain. On coming 
 to the trysting house, they still pursued their inquiries ; but meeting 
 with no tidings, two of them proceeded to the manse, and asked the 
 clergyman for the loan of his horse, in order to make further search, by 
 taking a wider range: “Weel,” said his wary reverence, “ye may hae 
 the bit beastie, but as I dinna ken ony o’ you, ane o’ you mun bide here 
 as a hostage, for the safety o’ the beast.” Mr. S. was retained ; and Mr. 
 Darling, as best acquainted with the country, proceeded with the clergy- 
 man’s servant, in quest of the driver. The Doctor, Mr. Beaumont, and 
 the ladies, meanwhile, walked on to the inn, where they tarried till about 
 nightfall, when the Doctor became impatient, and set off on foot, in the 
 direction of Edinburgh, which was a distance of twelve miles. Mr. 
 Beaumont, afraid lest he should miss his way, and with a view to keejo 
 him company in his solitary walk, followed him, after having arranged 
 matters for the comfort of the ladies. The Doctor inquired why he had 
 left his companions ; but was told that they were at the inn, and would 
 soon be joined by Mr. Darling. What increased the Doctor’s disappoint- 
 ment, which had assumed the shape of something like mortification, was 
 his having taken up a book at the inn, in which it was affirmed, on what 
 was deemed good authority, that Habie’s How was not the identical 
 scene described by Ramsay. This, though confirmatory of his own sus- 
 picions, was the less welcome, as it came upon him in the midst of other 
 
176 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 disappointments, and before the fatigues of the day had subsided. While 
 he proceeded on his way to Edinburgh, under the shades of the evening, 
 weariness was somewhat beguiled by an interchange of remarks on the 
 state and culture of the land, and such natural objects as presented them- 
 selves to the eye, as they passed along. At length, however, they were 
 both relieved by hearing the rumbling of their carriage wheels. Mr. Dar- 
 ling had discovered the man by the side of a hill ; he having found his 
 way to an “illicit still,” where he had been sipping the “mountain dew,” 
 in all its youth and freshness, leaving his horses to graze near the spot, 
 till he slept away a portion of its fumes. The party arrived in Edin- 
 burgh about 11 o’clock the same night. Mr. Beaumont, not being 
 perfectly satisfied with the conflicting accounts respecting Habie’s How, 
 consulted Professor Jamieson (Professor of Natural Philosophy, distin- 
 guished both as a philosopher and an antiquary,) on the subject, who 
 gave it as his opinion, that what they had seen, was the identical Habie’s 
 How of Allan Ramsay. Though hills, lakes, glens, and rivulets, are the 
 least subject to mutation, yet single hamlets, villages, and even towns 
 often disappear, and the whole face of a district is changed in the course 
 of a few years, in consequence of culture or neglect. One hundred years, 
 it should be recollected, had, in this case, intervened, between the com- 
 position of the poet and the visit of the scholar : to say nothing of the 
 creations and embellishments of the poet, thrown like a garland in May, 
 around the scene, not a little is to be deducted from the youthful fancy 
 of “ little Adam,” which was as expert at creation, in the way of associa- 
 tion, as the inventive faculty of the “ skull- thacker,” as Allan humor- 
 ously designated himself in connection with his civil profession: and 
 living on with these youthful creations of his own, and the grave man of 
 thought and of learning stealing imperceptibly in, to gaze upon the 
 scene, mature age seems to have demanded the literal accuracy of the 
 topographer, instead of the airy notions of the poet, who, like Sir Walter 
 Scott, in his novels, could throw a hundred pages of fiction round one 
 historical fact. 
 
 As the General Assembly of the Kirk of Scotland was at this time 
 sitting. Dr. Clarke felt desirous of being present, and was granted admis- 
 sion. This was new to him ; and, struck with the contrast between the 
 business, feeling, and freedom of an English Methodist Conference, and 
 a Scotch General Assembly, the one, owing to its familiarity, being 
 more congenial to his habits and feelings than the other, he pleasantly 
 exclaimed to his companion, — “ Methodism for ever ! Methodism for 
 ever ! ! ” allowing, of course, a member of the General Assembly, to 
 reiterate the same exclamation in reference to his own form of Church 
 government. 
 
 He left Edinburgh for Glasgow on the 4th of June, and was enter- 
 tained by James Swords, Esq., of Annefield, where he met with Dr. 
 
PART VI. SECTION III. 
 
 377 
 
 McGill, Professor of Theology in the University, and other literary 
 friends. While here, he preached once, went over the Hunterian 
 Museum, and viewed different parts of the city. He left Glasgow on the 
 7th, on board the Eclipse steam -packet, sailed down the Clyde, and 
 encountered a severe storm on his passage to Belfast, at which place he 
 landed on the 8ch, and had to take the pulpit almost immediately on his 
 reaching the quay ; and again in the evening. The next day he visited 
 the Northern College, and in the evening laboured to settle some differ- 
 ences in the Society. A friend asked the Doctor, whether he thought, if 
 the Government were applied to for a Keglum Donum for the Wesleyan 
 body, as in the case of the Presbyterians, it would not be granted? 
 “ Perhaps it might,” he replied, but I should be sorry to see the Metho- 
 dists trammelled with government patronage and emolument.” This is a 
 correct view of the subject. 
 
 The Doctor arrived in Dublin on the 14th, after having visited the 
 Giant’s Causeway, his ovm birth-place, Coleraine, at which place he 
 preached, and several intermediate towns and villages. A few hours after 
 the party left Maghera, it was attacked by the Kibbonmen ; several per- 
 sons were killed in the conflict, and the probability is, that if they had re- 
 mained, as they were importuned to do, they would also have fallen victims 
 to the fury of the assailants, who were indiscriminate in their attacks. 
 The Doctor preached twice in Dublin ; and was entreated by preachers 
 and others, not to proceed to Cork, where he had an engagement and was 
 expected, in consequence of the disturbed state of the country, — the 
 whole of the south of which was under the Insurrection Act. He pro- 
 ceeded, notwithstanding; and when he, with his daughter and Mr. S., 
 entered the post-office yard, they found two guards with the mail, each of 
 whom had a broad-sword by his side, and four pistols in his girdle, thus 
 confirming all the fears his friends entertained. They arrived at Cork 
 on the 19th, and while the Doctor was engaged in inspecting the Cork 
 Institution and other objects of public interest, in visiting some friends 
 in the islands of Hop and Incherra, and in preaching in Cork and at 
 Bandon, his travelling companions paid a visit to the Lakes of Killarney. 
 Mr. M., who appeared to have followed the Doctor, pen in hand, during 
 this visit, communicated with the biographer on the occasion. 
 
 The Doctor’s first public service was, to preside at a Missionary Meet- 
 ing at Patrick Street Chapel, in which he gave a luminous account of the 
 commencement and progress of the Missions. 
 
 Next day a gentleman of the city put a mutilated MS. into the 
 Doctor’s hand, beautifully written with black ink, and ruled with red. 
 In the course of the day, he arranged the leaves, which were loose 
 and out of order ; having found the contents to comprise two Persian 
 Manuscripts, the one in poetry, and the other in prose. The poem, being 
 paged, was soon set right ; the work in prose could only be arranged by 
 YOL. II. M 
 
178 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 the catch-word at the foot of the page. After the whole was completed, 
 he said good-humouredly to a friend, who sat by him, “ Now, I’ll hold 
 you, there is not a man in County Cork would have done that, and could 
 have told what he did a remark, by the way, which arose from his 
 knowledge of the lack of Persian scholars in that part of the country. 
 
 He preached on the 22nd, morning and evening, breakfasting with 
 Mr. James Wright, dining and supping at Colonel Hall’s.* The chapel 
 was well filled ; several came from Bandon, sixteen Irish miles, to hear him. 
 “ The sermons ” were stated to have “ produced a powerful impression,” 
 by one who heard them. A lady, who was one of the Church Metho- 
 dists, so called, addressing herself to Dr. Clarke in the evening, on hearing 
 him refer to Mr. Wesley, asked, “ Was not Mr. Fletcher, Doctor, a holier 
 man than Mr. Wesley?” The Doctor, lifted up his hand, and in his 
 own nervous manner, said, “No, no; there was no man like John 
 Wesley. There was no man whom God could trust with the work he 
 had to do, but John Wesley. There were prejudices here, and prejudices 
 there ; but his prejudices always gave way to the force of truth.” He 
 continued ; “ the personal religion sufficient for Mr. Fletcher, in his 
 limited sphere, was far beneath that deep intimacy with God, necessary 
 for Mr. Wesley in the amazing labour he had to undergo, the persecution 
 he had to face, the calumnies he had to endure, his fightings without, the 
 oppositions arising from members of society within, and his care of all 
 his churches.” This decision seemed to give general satisfaction, especially 
 as it awarded to each his proper measure of grace for the sphere in which 
 he moved, — a point towards which sufficient attention is not always paid. 
 
 It having been published for him to preach at twelve o’clock at 
 Bandon, t on the 23rd, he proceeded thither in company with some 
 friends. Had a prince entered the town, scarcely greater tokens of 
 respectful recognition could have been paid. Persons were posted all 
 along the street by which the carriage entered from Cork, who had been 
 eagerly waiting his arrival. Friends and strangers were collected from 
 every part of the circuit, extending thirteen miles; and several had 
 travelled from Skibbereen and Bantry, the latter of which places is thirty 
 miles from Bandon, to hear the word of life from his lips. The chapel in 
 which he preached, was opened the year before, and was then the only 
 Methodist Chapel in Ireland in which there was an organ. In reference 
 
 * The Colonel was an English gentleman. He commanded the Devonshire Militia ; 
 and, after the peace, settled in Ireland. He and his family were exceedingly hospitable 
 and friendly j himself a constant hearer of the Wesleyan preachers, and several of the 
 family members of Society. That as many as possible might enjoy the Doctor’s con- 
 versation, about seventy persons were invited to meet him at supper. 
 
 t The town belongs chiefly to the Duke of Devonshire and the Earl of Shannon : it 
 at that time contained a population of 10,000 inhabitants, mostly Protestants, 500 of 
 whom were in the Methodist Society, besides a number of regular hearers. It was an 
 English Colony, and, to the present day, the people possess a tolerable share of the 
 English character, — blunt, honest, liberal, straightforward. 
 
PART VI. — SECTION III. 
 
 179 
 
 to the organ, the Doctor observed to Mr. Waugh, ‘Mt will do you no 
 good.” He preached an excellent sermon on Jude 20, 21, and made a 
 collection for the Missions, which amounted to upwards of £30, being 
 twice as much as had ever been collected for the purpose .before, though 
 two sermons were usually preached on the Sabbath on the occasion. Two 
 of the daughters of Lord Bandon were at the service, and subsequently 
 expressed themselves highly gratified. 
 
 Seated with his friends in the carriage, on his return to Cork, he 
 related some facetious anecdotes respecting Mr. Cricket, with whom he 
 was personally acquainted, and who was well known in some parts of 
 Ireland. Adverting to his own tour in Scotland, he remarked that, 
 though much pleased with it, the coldness and reserve of the people did not 
 harmonise with his feelings. Antrim being named, he said, “ The county 
 Antrim women are among the finest in the world.” Conversation shifting 
 like the scenery, he was asked, whether he preferred learning Hebrew 
 with or without points, when he replied, “ With them.” On it being 
 observed that he had not used them in his Commentary, he said, I have 
 spelt the words as if I had. Had I used the points, I should have lost a 
 line in the printing.” The Doctor was asked by the same gentleman, on 
 another occasion, what edition of the Septuagint he would recommend ? 
 when he advised him to procure Field’s, published at Cambridge, in 1662, 
 18mo. ; adding, “There is one in 4to, by Lambert Bos, 1709, which is 
 the most useful.” The gentleman, naming an exception which he had 
 met with in his Greek Testament, to the rule given in the Dissertation on 
 the Greek Article, by Mr. Boyd, appended to his (the Doctor’s) Com- 
 mentary on the Ephesians, he said, “ I lay no stress on the Greek Article : 
 I cannot yet see the weight of the arguments drawn from it, and was 
 almost forced to insert the paper. I will thank you, however, to furnish 
 me with any exceptions you meet in your reading.” 
 
 The Doctor, Miss Clarke, and Mr. S., returned to Dublin, where they 
 arrived on the 25th ; in which city the Doctor had to preside in the 
 annual Conference, which commenced its sittings on the 27th ; in the 
 course of which he preached and held a Missionary Meeting. The Con- 
 ference closed on the 7th of July, and on the 9 th he was safely housed 
 with his family at Millbrook ; the whole of the tour, together with its 
 mercies, harmonising with his insertions in a couple of Albums, pre- 
 sented to him for his autograph; in the one, “Keep pace with Time, 
 and union with God ; ” and in the other, “ God is love ! So witnesseth 
 St. John, and so witnesseth Adam Clarke.” The journey, he observed to 
 a friend, embraced six weeks, and extended 2,000 miles. 
 
 He had not been long at home before he had to repair to Sheffield to 
 attend the sittings of the British Conference, during which (on Sunday, 
 July 27th,) he opened Ebenezer Chapel; a building capable of seating 
 about sixteen hundred persons, and purely Gothic in its design, with the 
 
 IM 2 
 
180 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 exception of the fronts of the gallery. The solemnities connected with 
 the opening of this chapel were, for a time, awfully interrupted by an 
 occurrence, which, however, proved in the end more alarming than fatal. 
 When Dr. Clarke was drawing near the concluding point of his excellent 
 discourse, a sudden noise and confusion took place in a corner of the 
 gallery, which, it is feared, was the effect of wicked design to create 
 panic and consequent tumult in the congregation. The .disturbance, 
 once begun, was increased, through the operation of some very false and 
 foolish rumours, which had been industriously circulated in the neigh- 
 bourhood, respecting the safety of the building. About one-third of the 
 people present were induced to make their escape from the chapel as 
 quickly as they could. The rush to the doors, for several minutes, was 
 dreadful ; but, by the good providence of God, no material injury was 
 sustained by the persons thus needlessly alarmed. This was the second 
 case of imminent danger which the biographer himself had witnessed, 
 owing to false alarm ; once about five years before, in W altham Street 
 Chapel, Hull ; and on the present occasion, during which he was pinned 
 against the wall of the communion-place by a dense mass of the congre- 
 gation, without being able, for some time, to move either hand or foot. 
 Montgomery, the SheflSeld bard, who was present on both occasions, 
 observed in the “ Iris,” in reference to the latter, — “ Those who, either 
 by their wickedness, (if such there were,) or by their weakness, in 
 yielding to unfounded apprehensions, and thereby increasing the tumult 
 excited, contributed to the danger of the scene, — a danger arising n^ 
 from the building, but from the panic, — had special reason to be thankful^ 
 that the affair did not terminate in any more serious disaster than the 
 breaking of windows, and other injuries to the chapel, easily repaired. 
 We record the circumstance, chiefly because it affords the opportunity of 
 inculcating the duty, of which perhaps all crowded congregations should 
 be occasionally reminded, of being careful to avoid whatever may give 
 rise to sudden terrors in persons of weak nerves or timid character, and 
 of remaining resolutely calm and still, if unhappily an alarm should at 
 any time be created. Even in the case of real danger, it would almost 
 always be augmented by an attempt at hasty flight ; whereas by refrain- 
 ing from noise and tumult, people would at once promote their own 
 security, and be guiltless of increasing the perils of others. Their 
 ‘ strength ’ usually is ‘ to sit still.’ ” No man ever carried out his advice 
 more fully to the letter than did Montgomery, who remained resolutely 
 calm and still.” This was the third tumult the Doctor had witnessed, 
 one of which was the opening of the chapel in Rochdale : and in reference 
 to the present, he remarked, “ This is the last chapel I intend to open.” * 
 
 * One circumstance is worth recording : — In the midst of the confusion, a little 
 girl who was standing outside the chapel, ran home in a fright, and told her father, 
 who was in bed, in consequence of previous inebriation, that the Methodist Chapel hp.d 
 
PART VI. — SECTION III. 
 
 181 
 
 It was fortunate that the friends in a place in the Ashton-under-Lyne 
 circuit, secured his services for the opening of a new chapel on his way 
 to the Conference, as it is doubtful whether he would have been induced 
 to engage in them — after the disaster at Sheffield. 
 
 The two official sermons of the year, those of the President and 
 ex-President, were preached on Sunday, August 3rd ; the former (Mr. 
 Moore’s) on Heb. vi. 1 ; the latter (Dr. Clarke’s) on John iv. 24. Six- 
 teen preachers, after due probation, and the most satisfactory examina- 
 tions, were solemnly taken into full connexion. Dr. Clarke delivered the 
 charge ; and exhorted them, in a manner, and with an unction and 
 power, which those who were present could never forget, to take heed to 
 themselves and to their doctrine, and to continue in these things ; so that 
 they might save themselves and those who should hear them. 
 
 Having resolved to leave Millbrook, as most of his family were settled 
 in. the metropolis, he, as a preparatory step, was stationed, in the course 
 of the Conference, on the second London circuit, styled, ‘‘London 
 West.” He was, however, still puzzled how to relieve himself of Mill- 
 brook : “ If I sell,” said he, “ I sacrifice ; if I let, I run the risk of all 
 being spoiled. You advise me not to sell. I incline to your opinion, but 
 know not what to do.” 
 
 After Conference, he was much indisposed, in consequence of an 
 accident with Avhich he met ; stating, September 14, “I have been laid 
 up as you may have heard. I am, through mercy, beginning to grow 
 l&etter; but cannot yet repeat even the Lord’s Prayer.” His sympathies 
 for others, whether himself in sickness or in health, were always awake. 
 ‘‘ Give,” said he, to a friend who was going to the place, (referring to a 
 female servant who had married from the family, and was not in the best 
 of circumstances,) “ Give poor Ellen that guinea for me.” To another 
 
 friend, he said, “ Give Mrs. a guinea for me. I had subscribed to 
 
 her ‘ Lay of Marie ; ’ but the book was not published while I stayed in 
 London ; it was, however, sent after me as a present, because I had been 
 helpful to her in its composition. But such a gift, in such circumstances, 
 it would be wrong to receive. Do not mention the circumstance, but 
 give her the money as an order from me.” In another case : ‘‘ I have just 
 
 heard,” said he to the person addressed, “ that Mr. has become 
 
 bankrupt, and is in great distress. Can you show him any kindness ? 
 I have sent by Mrs. S. £2 2s., which you will give to him with my love. 
 
 fallen in, and that upwards of a hundred persons were killed. At this, the father 
 started up — ^put on his clothes — and hurried off to the chapel, which he was surprised 
 to find standing. After a few inquiries, he stole within the doorway to see how much 
 of the interior had given way ; he next proceeded a short way up one of the aisles, part 
 of which was left vacant by those who had taken flight, and after looking round him, 
 settled down into the attitude of a hearer, when the few remaining words which the 
 Doctor had to say, by way of winding up his subject, left a permanent impression on 
 the man’s mind, and he became a member of the Methodist Society. 
 
182 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 Do not delay to find him out.” Cases of this kind were of frequent 
 occurrence. 
 
 On the 17th of the same month, he was far from being well ; stating, 
 that he “ coiild not speak five minutes at a time.” After observing, that 
 he should be glad, “if any small place, from three to fifty miles from 
 London, could be obtained,” he added, “ but we should rather be 
 thinking of our last change, than of making another removal.” Kesolved, 
 however, to curtail as much as possible, all extraueous labour, and alt 
 inducements that would lead to it, he gave orders to a friend to sell his 
 share in the London Institution, for which he gave, he remarked, in 1795, 
 “ seventy-five guineas, and never had a farthing’s worth of profit by it.” 
 
 While at the Conference, Messrs. Holy, Beet, and others, of Sheffield, 
 promised him some cutlery for the poor Shetlanders, consisting of axes, 
 hammers, knives, scissors, &c. &c. ; and a cotton manufacturer, in Lan- 
 cashire, presented him with 248 yards of strong white calico for shirting, 
 &c. “ This,” said he, to the biographer, “ I shall place in the hands 
 
 of the preachers’ wives, that they may give it prudently among the most 
 destitute of the females, and males too, where much needed. I have 
 heard nothing about the things you have sent off, but they will perhaps 
 arrive in due time. The missionaries have begun their chapel and 
 dwelling house, and have the former more than half up, and have hung 
 the whole about my neck ! Poor souls, they have no one else to look to, 
 and I have only my own particular friends to apply to ; for the Rules 
 prohibit begging. Several thought I might have raised a good sum in 
 Shefiield ; but I could not in honour ask the good people there, who had 
 already exerted themselves so much in building a chapel for themselves ; 
 — therefore I asked nothing, and got nothing, only the promise of 
 cutlery.” 
 
 Recalling to recollection his address to the young men at Conference, 
 he remarked to the writer, “ I had totally forgotten the quotation to 
 which you refer : but I think it must have been from a small valuable 
 
 Persian poem, entitled, 0 ‘ The Poem of the King 
 
 and the Beggar,’ or ‘ King and the Derveesh,’ and from the sense you 
 give, these must be the lines : — 
 
 It is an extraordinary instance of paronomasia and alliteration ; and con- 
 tains a number of very important senses ; one of which I gave in the 
 address, which it is unnecessary to add here. Need I remind you of a 
 
PART VI. — SECTION III. 
 
 183 
 
 former request ? — to pick up any MSS., or curious antiquities. Some- 
 times curious matters may be had in the country, sought for in London, 
 in vain. Old English MSS., and especially those, that are poetic, I 
 should prize much. I have not forgotten the small imperfect Latin MS., 
 containing a few fragments of Augustin, which you put into my hand, 
 and which I took to my lodgings.” — On naming another subject, he 
 remarked in reference to it, “I doubt whether Samuel Wesley’s Hebrew 
 Poetry would be worth reading. And as to anything he has written on 
 the Yowel Points, I fear the same may be said. That he may have 
 reduced some of the Psalms to Hebrew metre, is possible — but certainly 
 not all, much less the poetical books of Scripture, hymns of the Penta- 
 teuch, &c. He gives a specimen on the song of the Well, Xumb. xx. 17, 
 consisting of five lines, which he does in a note, in illustration of the fol- 
 lowing lines; but does not mention a word of its being done, nor of his 
 having attempted, or intending to attempt any such thing : the poem I 
 quote from was printed in 1700 : ^ 
 
 * Primitive Verse was graced with pleasing Ehimes, 
 
 The Blank, a lazy fault of after-times ; 
 
 Nor need we, after proofs of this to plead 
 With those the sacred Hebrew Hymns can read : 
 
 If this, to lucky chance alone, be due, 
 
 Why Ehime they not in Greek and Latin too ? ’ 
 
 The note appended is ‘ Vide Psalm Ixxx. an(f Ixxxi. ; where some verses 
 have treble, others quadruple rhimes, four in one verse.’ The ‘Pious 
 Communicant,’ of which you speak, is a very poor work. I have got J. 
 Dunton’s ‘ Post Angel,’ 3 vols. 4to., and some others of his works.” The 
 versifications of the Rector of Epworth, as will be perceived, led to these 
 remarks, and they tend to clear up a point on which there was some doubt, 
 as to the fact of his having reduced the Psalms to Hebrew metre. 
 
 Though the subject has been more than once adverted to, it may be 
 proper to observe that, on the publication of the “ Wesley Family,” the 
 following note was forwarded to him by the Secretary of the Book- Com- 
 mittee : — 
 
 “ Sir, — I am directed by the Book-Committee to transmit to you the 
 following Resolution : — ‘ That Doctor Adam Clarke be respectfully re- 
 quested to accept 30 copies of his Memoirs of the Wesley Family, with 
 the grateful acknowledgments of the Committee acting in behalf of the 
 Conference, for the very satisfactory manner in which he has brought 
 that work to its completion, and for the great liberality with which he 
 has acted towards the Connexion in this business.’ ” 
 
 * The Poem referred to is entitled, “ An Epistle to a Friend concerning Poetry. By 
 Samuel Wesley. London : Printed for Charles Harper, at the Flower de Luce, in Fleet 
 Street.” Folio. The copy in the writer’s possession, which was lent to Hr. Clarke, 
 and which is the only copy the Doctor ever met with, belonged originally to Mr. J; 
 Lambert,— whose autograph it bears, — the son-in-law of Mr. Samuel Wesley. 
 
184 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 In this profession of “ grateful acknowledgments,” and “ the very 
 satisfactory manner in which he had brought the work to its completion,” 
 there were some things the Doctor found it difficult to account for : “ I 
 feel,” said he to the biographer, some time after, “ as though something 
 personal were attributable to the proceediugs of the Book- Committee : I 
 see Mr. Moore’s Life of Mr. Wesley recommended and advertised, and 
 also Mr. Benson’s Commentary; while the Wesley Family is but little 
 noticed. It is a work on which I spent much labour, and gave it to the 
 Conference without fee or reward. Others may try to write themselves 
 to the top of the Connexion, but I doubt whether they will succeed, 
 though I wish them success. I devoted four months to the work, during 
 intervals from other engagements, and at a time when I was much indis- 
 posed. Since then, I have received much additional information, which 
 I have inserted in an interleaved quarto copy,* and which will make a 
 work twice the size of the original. Persons who were indifferent before, 
 have, on reading what has been published, felt interested, and are now 
 willing to work and hand out their stores. But I am at a loss to know 
 what to do with the additions and improvements : the Book- Committee 
 have scarcely advertised the first edition. They omitted several things ; 
 and though I gave them full liberty to do with it as they pleased, yet I 
 could scarcely have supposed that they would have left out Samuel 
 Wesley’s preparations for a Polyglott, which, in a literary point of view, 
 ought not, I think, to have been omitted. Miss Sharpe, almost the only 
 survivor of Archbishop Sharpe, has furnished me with many letters from 
 Mr. Oglethorpe, together with the plans of his English estates, and those 
 of the colonies, t all of which are curious.” 
 
 Without wishing to detract from the merits of so interesting a work, 
 or of even supposing that it was solely at the work the members of the 
 Committee looked, still it is doubtful whether continued, and especially 
 varied biography, was the Doctor’s forte. John Wesley was one; Dr. 
 Clarke had made him a study, and, had he taken up his single life, every 
 feature would have been correctly and strikingly delineated ; but in the 
 “Wesley Family,” we find the many, requiring the many-sidedness and 
 versatility of a Shakespeare, to become each in turn, and to enter into 
 the view's, feelings, sympathies, and characteristic peculiarities of all. In 
 the “Wesley Family,” we perceive the power of accumulation and re- 
 search ; but the character is not always Sustained throughout ; and there 
 is an occasional recurrence of thought. The Doctor could hit off a slight 
 sketch from a general character, sacred or profane, and discriminate ad- 
 mirably; but the whole man — in full length — body, soul, and spirit, — 
 did not ahvaj^s come fairly out to view ; — he was seen more in the detail 
 
 * This volume is now in possession of the biographer. 
 
 t These plans were also given to the biographer by Mr. Tegg, the publisher of the 
 improved edition of the “ Wesley Family,” and the Doctor’s “Miscellaneous Works,” 
 and sustain the character given of them as “ curious.” 
 
PAllT VI. — SECTION III. 
 
 185 
 
 than in the mass — more in some given prominence than in the grouping. 
 The truth is, the Doctor had too much on hand, to admit of his chiselling 
 out the little niceties of human character, and to bring out by excessive 
 toil, and care, and patience, and polish, all the delicacies and beauties of 
 the human mind. He was a commentator, not a biographer. The “ Lives 
 of the Poets” would have been as awkward in his hand, as his Commentary 
 would have been in the hand of Dr. J ohnson. “Every man in his own order.” 
 In the month of November, he observed to his son-in-law, Mr. H., 
 “ W e have some prospect of being able to sell the whole estate, [Millbrook] 
 — that is, if we ask little enough for it.” Then again : — “I expected to 
 have heard something from you relative to the house [in London]. I 
 wish you to see the form of the lease, if there must be one ; and see that 
 I am not pledged (according to the wretched slang of such legal con- 
 veyances,) to leave on the premises what I did not find there,” &c. His 
 nice observation on articles of furniture peeped out at every turn; — ‘‘Go,” 
 said he, “to Mr. Wilkinson, and see what good chairs, tables, &c., can be 
 had for.: I do not mean articles formed out of that brown grey, open 
 work, wretched Mahogany, which is common ; but the good, close- 
 grained wood, weighty and solid, that when put together will stand, and 
 look the better the longer they are used. Such chairs, what per dozen ? 
 Tables, what, of such dimensions ? Good bedsteads — not in the height of 
 the gim-crack fashion ? ” &c. Closing a long letter on temporalities with 
 a little seasoning; — “Do not forget 3^our class, nor Missionary Meetings : ” 
 — thus preserving in full play, inward piety, and outward benevolence, 
 the one in meet companionship with the other. 
 
 Previously to the removal of the family from Millbrook, the Doctor 
 proceeded to London, and took up his residence in Canonbury Square, 
 Islington, where a house had been taken for him, and which he was 
 desirous of putting into a state of preparation for the reception of Mrs. 
 Clarke, his library, &c. Here he was several weeks, giving vent to his 
 graver and gayer feelings ; — “ I send jou the enclosed, by which you will 
 find that a large present of game is coming from Earl Derby. It is all 
 tempest here ; the house seems as if it would be blown down ; ‘ no small 
 tempest lies upon us.’ The packages we want, were sent off from Liver- 
 pool on the 13 th, so we cannot see them soon. Oh ! how lonely I feel! 
 Nobody to look at — Nobody to speak to ! weary with my yesterday and 
 to-day’s work, and not able for want of due conveniences to read or 
 
 study. I send Eliza they are either too long or too short. Addie 
 
 and I had a good dinner of sprats and potatoes ; and threepenny worth of 
 sprats and half a pint of porter is tolerably moderate ! ” 
 
 He was no sooner in London, than the friends of different charities 
 were on the alert to secure his services : and among the foremost acknow- 
 ledgments tendered to him, were the “ unanimous thanks of the Com- 
 mittee of the Lying-in- Charity, for his kindness in so effectually advo- 
 
18G 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 eating their cause.” Little time as he had, however, in consequence of 
 his situation, “to read and study,” he contrived, in the midst of his bustle, 
 and the want of his literary apparatus, to write some observations on the 
 “ Complutensian Polyglott,” which was done at the request of His Royal 
 Highness the Duke of Sussex, and which had been the subject of a 
 previous correspondence and conversation with that illustrious personage. 
 These criticisms were forwarded to his Royal Highness, Feb. 25, 182f, 
 and inserted by T. J. Pettigrew, Esq., in the “Bibliotheca Sussexiana.” 
 
 It may be added, that in the midst of the inconveniences he ex- 
 perienced, he maintained unbroken his extensive correspondence with his 
 friends, and with the Missionaries. Among the hundreds of letters lying 
 on the table before the biographer, it would not be difficult to furnish tv/o 
 or three volumes of epistolary correspondence, on almost every variety of 
 subject ; these have been dealt out with a sparing hand in the memoir, 
 and still must be so: the following extract, however, from one to a 
 preacher, anxious to improve his mind, and who had requested the 
 Doctor’s opinion on different works, may be useful to others desirous of 
 similar information : — 
 
 “ Why should you make any apology for writing to me, or, as you 
 call it, ‘ troubling me ? ’ When have I shown any reluctance to help, in 
 my little way, any that needed such assistance as I could afford? 1. 
 Learn all you can, and keep what you have gotten ; but this you cannot 
 do, unless you continue to improve. That which we have already 
 attained, both in religion and science, is preserved by continual additions 
 of the same kind. Thus alone we grow in grace and in knowledge. 2. 
 The best Hebrew Bible, for general use, is certainly that of Van der 
 Hooght, by Van der Hooght, — not by Frey, or Alexander, or any other. 
 I can trust none of these minor gentry. But if you seek a folio, that by 
 Montanus of 1572, or 1584, is undoubtedly preferable to every other. You 
 know that it contains the whole of the Old and New Testament, with a 
 literal interlineary version in Latin. Either of the above editions is 
 equally good the former the most scarce and splendid. All the subse- 
 quent editions are on miserable paper. This work was reprinted in the 
 London Polyglott. Apropos, cannot you get a copy of the Polyglott ? 
 Live thin, and ‘ raise the wind,’ but secure, at all events, Montanus. 
 Baynes has now an excellent copy of the edition of 1584. I would lay 
 hands on it for you, if I thought you would approve of it. 3. An Arabic 
 Bible scarcely ever appears in the market. Few have ever been printed, 
 except for the East, and thither they have all been sent, with the excep- 
 tion of very few copies. A few years ago, an Arabic Bible was printed 
 in folio,* at Newcastle, without points : I have it, but I do not know its 
 
 * He afterwards observed, “I thought all the copies of the Newcastle Arabic Bible, 
 were printed in folio, but I see it was printed in quarto, though my copy, and several 
 
PART VI. — SECTION III. 
 
 187 
 
 critical -value. No Bible, intended for the use of Mohammedans, should 
 be -without points. They would despise it, as pretending to be a revela- 
 tion from God, if destitute of these. No Koran was ever written without 
 points, though multitudes of their books, in all departments of literature, 
 are daily written without them. 4. The Arabic Verb is the most 
 difficult and important. Professor Baillie’s 60 Tables of the Arabic 
 Verb, have for ever made that part of Arabic Grammar what it should be 
 with these. Bichardson’s Arabic Grammar will be sufficient. Golius’ 
 Arabic Lexicon is the best ever published : * for Arabic and Persian, 
 Bichardson, as edited by Dr. Charles Wilkins. 5. Persian is, I think, 
 the most beautiful language in the world, and in it there are inex- 
 haustible treasures ; and it is not difficult to be acquired. 6. It will not 
 be any great task to get the Psalms in Arabic, — the Pentateuch also, and 
 perhaps the New Testament. As I am now (Jan. 23, 1824,) resident in 
 London, and likely to be so for some time, I offer you my service in any- 
 thing you may wish to employ me.” To the same friend, about the same 
 time, he remarked, “You cannot be too particular in marking down 
 everything that strikes you as likely to be useful. The Hebrew language 
 will be an endless fund of profit and entertainment to you. I bought a 
 capital set of the London Polyglott,t for the Mission at Columbo, for 
 £26 10s. It is a burning shame that these poor fellows have been 
 obliged to plod at translating the Scriptures, and no copies of the 
 original procured for them. If I be spared I shall make a revolution 
 there.” 
 
 And yet, with all his labours, the past appeared trivial, and he was 
 ever planning new schemes of usefulness : — “ The Missionaries in the 
 Shetlands,” said he, on adverting to the subject, “ go through incredible 
 privations, and accomplish unheard-of labours — but God . crowns those 
 labours with success. I purpose, please God, to visit those northern 
 regions in the spring. I think it is laid upon me, in the course of Divine 
 providence, to go thither, and yet it will be no easy task. I cannot bear 
 fatigue as I was wont — and especially what comes by sea. Probably I 
 have but a little time, and I should do all I can to redeem it. I have lost 
 much, and mispent much ; — may God show me mercy ! The day of pro- 
 bation to any man is the purchase of the blood of Jesus.” In the course 
 of the same month, (January,) he could say, in the midst of these deeply 
 
 others, no doubt, were printed on folio paper. If perfect, it must be cheap at what you 
 mention. The Rev. — Moyses, a very good oriental scholar, was corrector of the press, 
 and I should think, therefore, that the work is correct.” 
 
 * A copy at this time brought £7 lOs. 
 
 t The Doctor always congratulated himself on the beautiful preservation of his own 
 copy, bound in Russia, and ruled with red ink by his own hand ; in which he wrote— 
 ‘‘Matchless copy — with two Prefaces, Dedication, original Advertisement given with 
 the first vol. Thorough Titles, &c. &c.” This exquisite copy is now in the possession 
 of J. R. Kaye, Esq., Bass Lane House, near Bury, Lancashire. 
 
188 
 
 ADAM CLARKE, 
 
 impressive sentiments, “ I am now writing when I should be sleeping. 
 Five o’clock in a winter morning is an early hour to rise.” 
 
 In the early part of February, the Doctor was joined by Mrs. Clarke 
 and the other members of the family. He was not the man, however, on 
 leaving a place, to take with him all the sympathies and endearments 
 which belonged to it : “ When,” said he, “I built a chapel at Millbrook, 
 
 I offered it for ever to the Conference, if they would be at the expense of 
 the writings : this they did not choose. When I thought of selling the 
 estate, I reserved a piece of ground for the purpose of erecting a chapel on 
 it, in the place of the other ; — and this I have actually done. At present, 
 it appears only a dwelling-house ; but it was built for a chapel, and can 
 be converted into one in a day. This would have been done before, but 
 Mr. Greenall did not choose to have the other chapel shut up, or con- 
 verted into houses ; as he said, ‘ It would be a sad pity that the people 
 should not have the place to say their prayers in.’ Though he has left 
 the estate to Mr. Harford, yet he has laid no rent on the chapel ; and by 
 a private agreement between him and me, if he ever shuts it up, he is to 
 deliver seats, pews, and pulpit, for the use of the other chapel, which is 
 now a dwelling-house, in the occupation of a relative, who is to lodge the 
 preacher, I giving so much per annum. It was only for the sake of this 
 late chapel, that I reserved the little property left.” So much for disin- 
 terestedness. 
 
 Much as Dr. Clarke had laid out on the house he now occupied in 
 London, it still required many repairs, — not having been inhabited for a 
 period of two years ; and through the smoke and damp, “ his books,” he 
 declared, “ had sustained more damage in a short time there, than they 
 had received in twenty years before.” 
 
 Up to March, as appears from one of his letters to the biographer, he 
 was still resolved on a voyage to the Shetland Isles ; and was at work 
 with pen in hand. Having forwarded to him some original letters of the 
 Wesley Family, which had been long in his possession, and having had the 
 promise of others, he observed, — I shall be exceedingly glad to have the 
 things you mention, — even on loan. You have given me already, what I 
 have made good use of, and hope to profit much by what you may yet 
 procure, and what you may lend. I need not tell you how great an 
 advantage a man derives from having the originals before him : it gives 
 confidence to him, and confidence and satisfaction to the reader. Indeed, 
 I always feel but half convinced of the truth of what I quote from copy : 
 but when I can get nothing else, I am thankful even for this.” The last 
 sentence refers to a gentleman who was only disposed to part with copies, 
 and was afraid of trusting the originals in any other hands than his own. 
 To one who had promised him some implements for the poor Shetlanders, 
 and from whom he was counselled to expect nothing by the writer, he 
 observed, when hope deferred had made his heart sick, “I do most 
 
PART VI. — SECTION III. 
 
 189 
 
 sincerely hope that Mr. D. may send nothing : what he even pro- 
 mised is superseded by other ex corde donations. I pity the man who 
 gives nothing to God ; a time will come, when God will give nothing to 
 him.” In reference to others who had manifested indifference towards a 
 work of interest, — “ Shame on them,” said he, “ who have neglected it : 
 I have plenty of coals, and will roast them, when I find them out.” 
 
 Though seriously indisposed, which had been the case for some time, 
 he nevertheless preached the Missionary Sermon in Great Queen Street, 
 on the 2nd of May. This, however, threw him back, confined him to 
 the house some weeks, and finally compelled him to give up all intention 
 of visiting the Shetland Isles in the course of summer, as proposed. 
 
 Having several friends on the look out for him, as usual, both at home 
 and abroad, he was not a little elated, on being informed by the Eev. A. 
 M., that he had secured for him, in Ireland, some Elf-stones, the largest 
 and most regular he had ever seen, of Irish growth ; and also, a gold 
 ornament. The latter, from the description given of it, led the Doctor to 
 conclude, that it was the ancient p-nD nr yodin morin^ or Arch Druid’s 
 Breast Plate of Judgment, which actually turned out to be what he con- 
 jectured ; and as he had nothing of the kind before, he rejoiced in its 
 possession. On its reception, he addressed his friend, with all the 
 sagacity, caution, and prying curiosity of the antiquarian : ‘‘Now, there 
 is another thing you must do, viz., — get me its whole history: I mean, 
 where, when, how, and by whom it was found? — In what country, town, 
 or village, — in what kind of earth or bog, — at what depth under the 
 surface, — 'what occasioned the holes in it ? — was it struck with a fork in 
 the ground ? — was anything found in the same place ? — chains, links, or 
 little images. Can you get me anything else of the same kind, or any 
 truly Irish antiquities. Ancient coins, I believe there are none in 
 Ireland ; for there is no evidence that they ever had a coinage. Do not 
 intimate that such things are curious and valuable ; for, in that case, Pat 
 will ask ten prices for them, and go and hawk them about, till at last he 
 is obliged, at a distance from home, to sell them for half their worth. 
 The intrinsic worth of a golden ornament, of truly ancient workmanship, 
 is from £3 10s. to £3 15s. per oz. : but in every case, we must pay some- 
 thing for the rarity of the thing, — and where singular, as much more, 
 or even twice the worth of the gold ; and some will go even further than 
 this. But at the price of the metal, it is always cheap ; and half as much 
 more, in most cases, is not a bad bargain ; — but this depends on the form, 
 workmanship, &c. When you have the opportunity of purchasing such 
 things as you have now sent me, get possession of them at once, for fear 
 another should come and get them away ; taking care to leave a deposit 
 with the owner, till you write to me.” The intrinsic worth of this 
 ancient relic was about £8 ; but the Doctor had to pay for it £9 4s. 7d., 
 or £10 Irish. It was found some miles from Belfast, Ireland. 
 
190 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 On the publication of the first volume of Mr. Moore’s Life of 
 Wesley, something in the shape of disappointment being experienced, 
 the Doctor observed, that “some of the heads of houses had been with 
 him, pressing him to comply with the resolution of Conference, in pre- 
 paring such a Life as the state of the Connexion required, and the public 
 would, in all respects, be satisfied with.” But he declined, for reasons 
 previously stated ; though he was the more satisfied, that he had laid 
 everything else aside, as life was uncertain, to finish the enlargement and 
 revision of the “ Wesley Family,” for a second edition. 
 
 The health of the Doctor being still in a feeble and precarious state, 
 and his medical advisers recommending a situation somewhere in the 
 country, he purchased Haydon Hall, an estate at Eastcot, near Pinner, 
 about sixteen miles from London, whither he removed in the month of 
 September. Here he had ample range for his library, his mineral cases, 
 maps, plans, and various antiques ; and once classified and placed in 
 order, they only required the pen of a Washington Irving, as in his 
 interesting details of Sir Walter Scott, at Abbotsford, to convey a perfect 
 image of the whole to a non- visitant. Here, too, the Wesleyan Ministers, 
 belonging to the Windsor circuit, found a home, in the course of their 
 visits to Pinner and the neighbouring places. 
 
 As soon as the Doctor was settled in his new abode, he resumed, in 
 good earnest, the completion of his Commentary ; observing, that he 
 commenced with Jeremiah on the 1st of FTovember, and finished that and 
 the Lamentations on the 30th of the same month ; and that he began 
 with Ezekiel, December 1st, and finished it on the 21st; subjoining, that 
 the whole had been written with the same “ miserable pen.” 
 
 The year 1 825 found him somewhat improved in health, though far from 
 well. He was able, however, to attend to literary pursuits, and to preach 
 occasionally. Among others who called at his residence, were two gentle- 
 men of the Baptist persuasion, who said, they had formed a tract society, 
 that they were then employed in distributing tracts from house to house, 
 and that they would feel obliged if he would encourage and patronise 
 their endeavours. After a friendly conversation on general subjects, they 
 were dismissed. “ These gentlemen,” said he, to the Rev. A. Strachan, 
 on their retiring, “ are engaged in propagating the peculiarities of the 
 Calvinistic theology. I could not, in conscience, promote their under- 
 taking.” Though there was no asperity of feeling, yet, he could never 
 forget his Methodism in the presence of Calvinism : he deeply deplored 
 the manner in which the latter had been abused by persons destitute of 
 Divine grace, and the fatal leap which many had taken from it, into the 
 whirlpool of Antinomianism. 
 
 Perceiving that Mr. S. was somewhat indisposed, after an excessive 
 day’s labour, the Doctor observed, — “ My dear brother, you must either 
 moderate your labour, or go to a premature grave. The command of 
 
PART VI. — SECTION III. 
 
 191 
 
 God is — ‘Thou shalt do no murder.’ Should you kill yourself by inju- 
 dicious exertion, even in a good cause, I am quite certain you will be 
 closely examined as to the validity of your claim to be admitted into the 
 society of those, who have ‘ finished the work which he gave them to do.’ 
 What will you say, when, on arriving at the gate of the celestial city, 
 the question shall be proposed, — Who sent for you ? On whom rests the 
 responsibility of providing for your wife and children ? With whom have 
 you left ‘ the sheep,’ I committed to your care ‘ in the wilderness ? ’ ” &c. 
 He then mentioned several of his early associates, who fell in the vigour 
 of manhood, in consequence of imprudent exertion; and kindly urged 
 the propriety of prizing, and the necessity of preserving, health. 
 
 On another occasion, when Mr. S. was entering the breakfast room, 
 about eight o’clock one morning, in the depth of winter, the Doctor 
 accosted him, — “ I have been at work yonder,” pointing with his finger in 
 the direction of his study, “ about three hours ; and shall be glad to knov/' 
 how you have been occupied this morning.” Mr. S. replied, “Delight- 
 fully.” Perceiving, by the expression of the Doctor’s countenance, that 
 the answer was indefinite, and not quite satisfactory, and that he was 
 about to require an account, though in familiar mood, of the work done, 
 Mr. S. immediately added, “You must recollect. Sir, that I walked 
 sixteen miles yesterday, preached three times, and administered Baptism 
 and the Lord’s Supper. Now, I maintain, that, after such a day’s work, 
 it was but an act of heathen justice, fairly due to exhausted nature, to 
 indulge the body with a little more sleep than usual.” After a significant 
 shake of his head, which left it, after all, doubtful, whether he ceded that 
 point, notwithstanding his cautionary remarks against excessive labour, 
 he expressed himself strongly — as a kind of counterpoise — on the brevity 
 of human life, and of attending to the cultivation of the miud, as well as 
 to the health and comfort of the body. Mr. S. remarked, that it had 
 always been a cross to him to rise at five o’clock in the dark and cold 
 mornings of winter ; and that, notwithstanding he had the benefit of the 
 Doctor’s example, he found it impossible to convert the practice of very 
 early rising into that source of enjoyment which it seemed to be to him. 
 He further remarked, that he was at a loss to know, v/hether it was the 
 effect of a bad habit, formed in early life, or whether it might not be 
 some constitutional defect — some “ thorn in the flesh ” — which could not 
 be eradicated ; that he had been protesting and praying against it for 
 several years ; but that it still lingered, and seemed to be a most inveterate, 
 if not incurable, evil. “My dear brother,” said the Doctor, “you have 
 entirely misapprehended the case. The remedy is simple, and of easy 
 application. It has been a maxim with me, for many years, never 
 to trouble the Almighty about a thing which I could do myself. Now, 
 instead of lying in bed, and praying on the subject of early rising, I get 
 up at the appointed time, dress myself, and go at once to my study and 
 
192 
 
 ADAM CLAHKE. 
 
 my books. If you take my advice, you will act in future on the same 
 maxim.” 
 
 To another minister, he remarked, “You do well to cultivate your 
 mind as far as you possibly can. You ought to do so, as a minister of 
 the Gospel, and as a man. I believe the intellect of Adam was created 
 dependent on cultivation, for that perfection of which God had made it 
 capable. I thank God, I have lived to some purpose in the Methodist 
 Connexion : having induced several of the preachers to acquire a know- 
 ledge of the Greek and Hebrew Scriptures ; and hope we shall, ere long, 
 have not only a pious, but a learned and efficient ministry.” 
 
 On Dr. C. standing to read the Scriptures in the family one morning, 
 Mr. S. took the liberty of asking the reason of it ; and though the subject 
 has been slightly touched in a preceding page, yet his fuller and more 
 special reply is worthy of record, for the sake of both the sentiment and 
 the expression: he remarked with solemnity, “This Book,” opening the 
 Bible as he spoke, “ I consider as being the representative of the infinite 
 God, whose voice addresses me as often as it is read in my hearing. Do 
 the ‘ eyes of a servant look unto the hand of his master, and the eyes of 
 a maiden unto her mistress,’ when they appear in their presence, to 
 receive their instructions? and is it not equally reasonable, that I should 
 place myself in an attitude of respectful attention, when I come to 
 be instructed in my duty, by the Supreme Being ? ” 
 
 Being in company with the excellent Mr. Jay, of Bath, conversation 
 turned upon preaching, when the Eev. T. S. was noticed as a preacher. 
 The Doctor, after deservedly praising him on many points, strongly 
 objected to the apparent indifference and indolence of manner with which 
 he dealt out truth in the pulpit. Gliding next into the languages of the 
 East, a gentleman in the party, observed, that they were next to unat- 
 tainable by Europeans : the Doctor instantly interposed, and said, with 
 a slight degree of sharpness, — “ Our Missionaries, Sir, have mastered the 
 languages.” 
 
 He was favoured about this time with the intelligence of a Homan 
 Catholic priest having been converted to Protestantism, by reading his 
 Commentary on the Scriptures. 
 
 The first production of his pen this year, dated, “ Eastcott, Jan. 1, 
 1825,” was a brief, but curious and erudite article, full of close, practical 
 observation, entitled, “ Cursory Remarks on the English Tongue, and on 
 the present prevailing mode of Public Education.” He employed with 
 great dexterity the lines of Dr. John Wallis on Twist, against the 
 Frenchman’s Corde ; the latter expatiating on the copiousness of his 
 native language, and its richness in derivatives and synonymes, in proof 
 of which, he produced four verses on rope-making, composed apparently 
 for the purpose ; and the former showing, in an English translation of 
 the lines, that the English furnished a greater variety of flexions, and 
 
PART VI. — SECTION III. 
 
 198 
 
 afforded more terms and derivatives from one radix, without borrowing a 
 single term from any other tongue, or coining one for the nonce, than 
 the Frenchman was capable of, — Dr. Wallis refusing to entertain a single 
 exotic, and employing only the pure Anglo-Saxon. ‘‘ I question,” said 
 Dr. Clarke, in reference to the English translation, “ whether any other 
 language could produce a root from which such a number of derivatives 
 could be formed to explain a trade or manual operation in all its parts. 
 I doubt whether the Arabic, with all its oppressive fecundity of terms 
 for the same thing, or the Persian, with all its privileges of borrowing 
 from the Arabic, and creating participles, &c., ad libitum^ would not 
 both fail on the trial. I think also that the best Grecian in the land 
 would be puzzled to find any legitimate parallel to the English verses ; and 
 as for the Latin, it will fall miserably short.” He then asks, after some 
 other remarks, Why is not such a language as this, (the English,) better 
 studied ? Why not studied analytically ? It is by its analysis that we 
 discover its force and truth. It is the language of every art and science ; 
 for there is no other in which they can be so well and so intelligibly 
 described. Whatever has been effected by the greatest Grecian or Koman 
 orator, can be effected by the Englishman who fully understands bis 
 mother tongue ; and perhaps above all the languages of all the babbling 
 nations of the earth, the English is that in which the sublime science of 
 salvation can be best explained and illustrated, and the things of God 
 most forcibly and effectually recommended. What a pity that, with such 
 a language, the best part of the lives of so many of our youth should be 
 spent, if not wasted, in studies, and in languages that, in ninety-nine 
 cases out of a hundred, serve only to pass through the forms of schools 
 and colleges, and, however they may have acquitted themselves in Greek 
 and Latin, Mathematics, and a still inefficient Aristotelian Philosophy^ 
 enter upon life with scarcely a requisite for passing honourably and use- 
 fully through it ; many of them not being able properly to read, scarcely 
 at all to analyse, and hardly to spell their mother tongue. I have seen 
 private letters of the most learned man of the seventeenth century, who, 
 besides Greek and Latin, of which he was a master, possessed such a know- 
 ledge of the seven Asiatic languages as perhaps no other man then in 
 Europe did, and wrote upon and explained them with profound accuracy, 
 and yet was so ignorant of his own native English tongue, that he could 
 not construct a single sentence with propriety ! 
 
 ‘ Let every foreign tongue alone, 
 
 Till you can read and spell your own/ 
 
 is a sound piece of advice, comes from high authority, and should be 
 treated with great respect. I do not speak against learning, — nor even 
 think against it, nor against proper Schools or Colleges ; but I speak 
 against useless and deficient education. I speak against the preposterous 
 
 VOL. II. N 
 
194 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 plan of teaching our English youth, anything, or everything, but their 
 mother tongue.*” 
 
 Mr. Walter Griffith, who had been in a declining state of health some 
 time, died on the 30th of the month : “ He expired,” said the Doctor to 
 the friend whom he was addressing, about ten o’clock on Sunday morn- 
 ing. I visited him twice after he was totally laid up. He had perfect, 
 strong support in the whole of his sickness, and died powerfully witness- 
 ing the efficacy of the blood of the cross, and that that blood can cleanse 
 from all sin. His judgment was not less sound than his piety. He had 
 a clear understanding, and was powerful in all his ministerial offices. He 
 was once our President ; and, without exception, the best that ever 
 occupied that chair, since the decease of Mr. Wesley.” 
 
 The slave question continuing to agitate the public mind, and some 
 stirring pamphlets having been published on the subject, the following 
 sentiments were elicited : — 
 
 Dr. Clarke . — “ Do you wish to have my mind on the subject ? ” 
 Friend . — “ I do. Sir.” 
 
 Dr. C . — “Then here it is. The whole trade is diabolic, from the 
 trepanning of the innocent creatures in their country, by their own 
 people, whom we have corrupted, so as to render them like all European 
 Slave-dealers, insensible of all the charities of life, till that time in which 
 these forlorn creatures breathe their last in the service of that nondescript 
 in nature, a West India Planter.” 
 
 Friend. — “ It is now a great political question, whether these should 
 have their liberty at all, or whether by slow degrees.” 
 
 Dr. 0 . — “ It is, to the summary scandal of our nation. Their liberty 
 is not ours. — It belongs to God and themselves. The highest angel of 
 God cannot claim a control over it. Our legislature sanctioned it in the 
 beginning, and realised it in the end. And now, after being forced to 
 acknowledge our iniquity, we hesitate to undo our wicked acts ! ” 
 
 Friend. — “ The principle is admitted, that they should not have been 
 made slaves ; and, now that they are such, should be made free, — but 
 then, it is argued, that an enlightened policy refuses to give them their 
 liberty all at once, as there is no reason to believe they would use it to 
 their own advantage.” 
 
 Dr. C . — “ So then, their bondage is to be continued on the presump- 
 tion that they cannot make a proper use of their liberty ! — This is 
 assuming a further control, — we arrogate to ourselves the right to judge 
 when their minds should be made free as well as their bodies ! Who does 
 not see that questions of this kind admit of no decision ? and the plain 
 English is, their bondage must be perpetual.” 
 
 Friend. — “ But would you advise that they should all be immediately 
 emancipated ? ” 
 
 Dr. C. — “ Most certainly.” 
 
PART VI. — SECTION III. 
 
 195 
 
 Friend. — ‘‘ What, all of them ? ” 
 
 Dr. C. — “ Yes, all that you have in bondage.” 
 
 Friend. — “ Then they would knock us all on the head.” 
 
 Dr. C . — “Possibly — and therefore take care of your heads, — but in 
 the moment, fiat justicia mat cmlum ! Their liberty is their own, and 
 you have no right to it — not for one moment.” 
 
 The Doctor, who had himself been in another kind of bondage some 
 years, had an oppressive load removed from his mind in the early part of 
 this spring ; and none of the feathered songsters warbled forth a sweeter 
 note than that to which he gave utterance when he made the following 
 announcement to a friend, which has been echoed in the Commentary 
 itself ; — “It will give you no little pleasure to hear, that on March 27, 
 1825, at eight o’clock, p.m., I wrote, upon my knees, the last note, on the 
 last verse, of the last chapter of Malachi. Thus has terminated a work in 
 which I have painfully employed upwards of thirty years.” He must have 
 employed great assiduity towards the close of his labours, for on the 6th 
 of the same month, he observed to Mr. H., “For some time past I have 
 suffered much in my eyes ; it is impossible that they should last. All 
 winter I have written several hours before day, and several after night. 
 Under this they have failed ; but I want to get the Commentary done. 
 I have got to the end of the sixth of the twelve minor Prophets, so I 
 have six more to do ; and if my eyes had continued, I would have had 
 the whole Commentary completed by your return. Jeremiah and 
 Lamentations are finished at press, and published. Of Ezekiel and 
 Daniel thirty chapters are already printed off, and half of the minor Pro- 
 phets ready for the press. You see, then, that I am fully in sight of land.” 
 “ Having now,” he adds, “ a little more leisure, I shall be able to give 
 more time to my Mineralogy and Conchology, in which I take much 
 delight. I am making a collection of the shells of England and Ireland ; 
 and getting as many from foreign parts as I can. I have my minerals 
 beautifully disposed, but the collection is far from being complete. The 
 little book you have sent me, is, I believe, in the Telinga language ; but I 
 do not know the subject.” 
 
 All who are acquainted with the issue of the Commentary, are aware 
 that the New Testament was published before the books of the Old were 
 completed. By the middle of summer, the whole of the press work was 
 finished, and only waited a brief period for the General Index, which was 
 also soon worked off. Though several of the other works of Dr. Clarke 
 will ensure immortality to his name, yet that on which it will descend to 
 posterity, under the auspices of the purest lustre, is his learned and 
 voluminous Commentary on the Holy Scriptures, the sale of which has 
 been almost unexampled.* This laborious work, notwithstanding some 
 
 ♦ A gentleman who had been looking out some time for the large paper copy fortu- 
 nately met with one in London a few weeks after this. Naming the circumstance to the 
 
 N 2 
 
196 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 peculiarities which it occasionally exhibits, contains more original matter 
 than any commentary that has appeared since the days of Calmet. It is 
 alike adapted for the use of the learned critic and private Christian. His 
 last literary employment, it may be added, was that of revising this im- 
 portant work for a second edition. 
 
 Everything curious in his nature continued in full operation, and on 
 an opportunity presenting itself for the gratification of his passion for the 
 rare and curious, it was embraced with eagerness. His son-in-law, Mr. 
 Hook, having arrived at Teneriffe, had his memory refreshed with — “ Do 
 not forget me when in Africa. Bring any curious minerals you can meet 
 with. I want a good piece of native gold, or gold ore, silver, amber, 
 shells, uncommon and good, from the very largest to the smallest ; any 
 curious animal, which you think may live with me with little trouble ; 
 curious eggs, and curious sticks, stones, grasses, cloth, cotton, or anything 
 you may judge proper, that will not cost much; specimens of native 
 work — in cloths, baskets, cups, boxes, &c. ; specimens of rare timber, 
 when there is anything curious in the colour, hardness, grain, &c. — 
 Could you bring me a very nice, healthy negro boy and girl — regular 
 features — perfectly good-tempered — not less than twelve or fourteen 
 years of age ? But this I leave with you ; if I had a nice maid for the 
 children, I should be glad. I wish you also to mark any curious custom 
 you may meet; with such 1 greatly illustrate many portions of the 
 Bible.” Deep piety was blended with the whole ; “We have prayed for 
 you incessantly since your departure, and shall continue our supplications. 
 Do not forget, while in Africa, that you are a Christian.” To another, 
 in the course of the same month, in another region, he remarked, “ I 
 know the fihulm well : buy those you mention, though they are the 
 smallest of the kind, and can be worth little more than their weight in 
 gold. However, make the best bargain you can. As to the coins, there 
 is not one in ten thousand Eoman copper coins, worth twenty shillings, 
 much less forty. With regard to the Nerva and Antoninus, except some 
 very rare reverses, they are worth, in copper, in good preservation, about 
 Is. or Is. 6d. a-piece ; but I have handsful of them. There are some 
 reverses for which, to complete my set, I would give four or five shillings. 
 But, with a man who does not know what to ask, I would not deal. 
 Every honest man knows what his wares cost him, and what is the per- 
 centage by which he can live. He who charges in this way, never 
 wrongs either himself or his neighbour.” 
 
 A message having been delivered by Mr. Pettigrew, in the month of 
 April, at the command of the Duke of Sussex, for the Doctor and his 
 eldest son to dine at the palace, in order that His Royal Highness might 
 
 Doctor, the latter replied, When my daughter was married to Mr, Smith, I wished to 
 present her with the fine copy. Mr. Butterworth had not a copy of Genesis ; I offered 
 three guineas for that part alone, but could not obtain it.’* 
 
FART VI. — SECTION III. 
 
 197 
 
 introduce them to the Duke of Hamilton, the Doctor proceeded to the 
 metropolis, where he also embraced the opportunity of consulting his 
 medical adviser respecting his eyes, which had been seriously affected for 
 some time. When at Kensington he was introduced to two Indian gen- 
 tlemen, by the Koyal Duke, who said, “ Here is my friend. Dr. Adam 
 Clarke, who will speak Persic or Arabic with any of you.” On the 
 chaplain invoking a blessing, in a brief, undertone, that was neither 
 audible nor yet distinct, his Royal Highness turned to the Doctor, and in 
 a pleasant half whisper, said, ‘‘Precious short. Dr. Clarke.” Sometime 
 after this visit, on his Royal Highness having returned the compliment at 
 Eastcott, where he read four chapters of the Bible, and had been consult- 
 ing the Hebrew text on a particular passage, Mr. S. inquired on his 
 departure, “ Do you think. Doctor, that the Duke is a converted man ? ” 
 “ I do not know what you would do,” he replied, “ but I think I would 
 not hesitate to admit him on trial.” 
 
 On the 29th of the same month, the Doctor preached in Great Queen 
 Street Chapel, and made a collection for the Wesleyan Missions. His 
 text was that singular portion of Holy Writ, Jeremiah x. 11, so expres- 
 sive of the ulterior destruction of idolatry throughout the world. On 
 Monday, May 2nd, he went to City Road, accompanied with Mrs. 
 Clarke, Mrs. Smith, and one of the Irish Preachers. They had but two 
 platform tickets among them ; and as the Doctor was not personally 
 known to the two police officers, who were stationed at the side door, 
 they would not allow him to pass. He then gave Mrs. C. and Mrs. S. in 
 charge of his friend, and literally pushed them past the constabulary 
 force. He himself was seized by them, and refused admission. Whether 
 from amusement, or otherwise, he forebore giving his name ; and it was 
 not a little laughable, to see him in the hands of two of the city officers, 
 prevented from going into a chapel in which he had so often preached, 
 and into which he was then going to attend a Missionary Meeting. On 
 the persons coming up, who had commissioned the men to be there, he 
 was instantly released from their grasp. His name was his passport ; and 
 that being announced, the men — though only discharging an office of 
 trust — felt somewhat abashed. On the day after the meeting, the Doctor 
 baptised the first-born of his daughter, Mrs. Smith ; the name of the 
 child was Adam Clarke Smith. 
 
 Though far from well, his eyes being much inflamed, he started by 
 coach for Bristol on the 14th. He was at the office about half-past four 
 o’clock in the morning, and walked to and fro till five. “ I was per- 
 suaded,” said Mr. M., who accompanied him, “that we should be too 
 early.” The Doctor replied, “ I was never too late for a coach or a boat 
 in my life.” The famous “ White Horse,” cut on the side of a chalk 
 hill, about ten miles from Marlborough, stated by the coachman to be 
 100 feet from the tip of the ear, to the tip of the tail, and nearly 50 feet 
 
198 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 from the hoof to the mane, and formed simply by removing the earth 
 from the chalk, the latter of which gives it its light colour, attracted the 
 attention of Mr. M. The Doctor, on hearing its antiquity assigned to 
 the time of Alfred the Great, observed, that he found a MS. of the 
 eleventh century, in the College of Corpus Christi, Cambridge, which 
 described this “ White Horse,” and stated it then to be of so ancient a 
 date, that the period of its formation was lost in antiquity. On arriving 
 at Bristol, about nine o’clock in the evening, the Doctor and his friend 
 found the Kev. J. Wood and Mr. J. Hall waiting for them with a coach ; 
 but the Doctor declined entering — took his carpet bag in his hand — and 
 walked off to his lodgings. The next day, the Doctor preached twice, 
 though very much indisposed ; “ unwilling to draw back,” as he re- 
 marked, “ while he could drag along.” 
 
 An elderly matron having heard that his eyes were much affected, 
 waited upon him, and recommended an infallible remedy, in a certain 
 kind of snuff, which she urged with great earnestness : but it was not for 
 a man, who had battled all his life against tobacco in every shape, to 
 submit to it on such authority, though he could not but be obliged to the 
 lady for her good intentions, while he was amused with her faith and her 
 zeal : and besides, recent tidings of the beneficial effects of his treatise 
 against the weed, in America,^ occasioned too much joy to admit of any 
 change of feeling or sentiment on the subject. On going up-stairs to one 
 of the bedrooms, in the house of Mr. Hall, he pointed to a chamber 
 clock, and said to his friend, “Do you see that clock?” “ Yes, Sir.” 
 “That was once mine; I had to sell it to buy bread.” Mr. J. Hall 
 having driven Mr. M. to Mr. Scott’s, of Pensford, in his gig, six miles in 
 thirty-five minutes, Mr. M. made a remark upon it ; when the Doctor 
 replied, “ I tell you, sir, he drives like a fury ; he drove me once to 
 Bath from Bristol, a distance of thirteen miles, in an hour and four or 
 five minutes : I thought he would have broken my neck.” 
 
 The Doctor presided at the Missionary Meeting. On his being waited 
 upon by the friends, to pay him his expenses, Mrs. Arthur, in a good- 
 humoured way, said, ‘‘Bemeinber wear and tear.” To this they were 
 about to attend ; but the Doctor positively refused anything beyond 
 actual cost, saying, “ I have never taken for wear and tear — and I never 
 will.” 
 
 Being earnestly importuned to hold a Missionary Meeting in Cork, 
 he gave his consent ; observing on the occasion, in reference to another 
 subject, “ I had not heard a word about the Conference being at Cork, 
 till your letter came. I first moved to get it from Dublin, where it had 
 been long a drug, and consequently little regarded. I am glad it is gone, 
 and hope it will be in Belfast the year following.” He sailed from 
 Bristol, accompanied by his son Theodoret, and Mr. and Mrs. John Hall, 
 
 * American Tract Mag. 
 
PART VI. — SECTION III. 
 
 199 
 
 of Bristol, rn a steam packet crowded with passengers, among whom were 
 several persons of rank. He was requested to preach to the passengers, 
 but declined as there were some clergymen on board ; so that the duty 
 devolved on Dr. Woodward, son of the Bishop of Cloyne. He was, how- 
 ever, perfectly at home with them, Avhile they plied him freely on almost 
 every variety of subject ; several pressing him, at the same time, to visit 
 them at their country seats near Cork and Limerick. 
 
 The Chairmen of the several Districts met, July 6, and the Doctor 
 presided the whole of the day. The next day, the Stationing Committee 
 met, in which he also presided, and took a deep interest. iSTot being 
 President on the occasion, he was the more at liberty to take a share in 
 the discussions of the several sittings. In consequence of the incon- 
 venience, expense, and humiliations, to which the members of society 
 were subjected, a Memorial was agreed to by the separate Leaders’ Meet- 
 ings of Belfast and Carrickfergus, to be forwarded to Conference, re- 
 questing that the Preachers — as the civil law did not prohibit it, and the 
 Preachers in Scotland had set them the example — should be allowed to 
 celebrate the marriage ceremony. The Doctor was requested to present 
 the one from Belfast, and argued in its favour, saying, in his own strong 
 w'ay, “ In the name of God, I would let them marry one another.” For 
 this the Conference was not quite prepared ; but we have his opinion on 
 the case. He was equally in favour of preaching in “ Church Hours,” 
 and carried with him the effects of the discussion on the subject from 
 Cork. On the question being asked, “ What can be done to revive and 
 extend the work of God ? ” he spoke on the necessity of introducing men 
 of suitable talent and education into the ministry ; stating, while ad- 
 verting to the improvement which had taken place in the Society, that 
 ‘‘the preachers ought still to keep their distance : ” adding, “We have 
 enlightened the world, and the world looks to us for the light. Hitherto, 
 in many cases, we have only womaned the walls, but now we must man 
 them.” One of the preachers, who held a responsible official situation, 
 not being present at the Conference, led him also to animadvert strongly 
 on the circumstance of official characters neglecting their public duties. 
 An opportunity having offered itself, he delivered a long and impressive 
 speech on the operations of the human mind; — gliding — as he was on 
 Irish ground, and was well versed in the superstitions of his countrymen — 
 into its belief in the existence of Fairies. “ Man,” said he, “ feels his 
 weakness ; therefore it is, that he looks out for foreign help, and hopes 
 for supernatural existence.” With a view to pursue the subject, by en- 
 tering into its causes, tendencies, effects, &c., he requested the Preachers 
 to furnish him with any “ Fairy Tales ” they might meet with in their 
 travels. In this, “ little Adam,” was seen in company with Adam “ the 
 aged.” 
 
 After completing his mission at Cork, he proceeded to Dublin, with a 
 
200 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 view to embark for England. He reached the city on the Saturday, 
 where the friends were anxious to have a sermon from him for some 
 charity. One of the English Preachers, who was present on the occasion, 
 told them, that as he might be wearied with his journey, they had better 
 let him rest till the morning. Bub the ardour of the Irish character, and 
 the possibility of losing the opportunity, would not allow any time to be 
 lost : accordingly, Mr. R., and the sage adviser referred to, waited upon 
 the Doctor at his lodgings. The latter, who had been engaged in 
 his room, answering correspondents, was sent for; having either been 
 disturbed in the midst of a letter, or roused from a state of quiet after 
 the fatigue of his journey, he appeared with a less agreeable expression of 
 countenance than usual. The formality of introduction having passed off, 
 Mr, B. said, — “ Dr. Clarke, our friends are very desirous that you 
 should preach a charity sermon ; and they have commissioned me earnestly 
 and respectfully to ask the favour.” 
 
 Dr. C. — “ I am sick of charity sermons.” 
 
 Mr. B. was struck dumb for the moment, but on account of the 
 urgency of the case, and the fact that no one could serve the cause so 
 well as the Doctor, tried to rally again : “I hope, Doctor, you will take 
 our case into consideration ; it is very pressing.” 
 
 Dr. C. — “ When do you want it ? ” 
 
 Mr. B. — ‘‘To-morrow, Sir.” 
 
 Dr. 0 . — “ At what time ? ” 
 
 Mr. i?.— “ At twelve o’clock. Sir.” 
 
 Dr. C. — “A most unusual hour.” 
 
 Mr. B . — “Will any other hour suit you. Sir? We propose that 
 hour, because we believe we shall be able to command a larger con- 
 gregation.” 
 
 Dr. C. — “I know the whole business : it is of going to church.” 
 
 Mr. B . — “If you will name your hour. Sir, we will take it.” 
 
 Dr. C. — “ At what hour have you preaching in the other chapel?” 
 Mr. B . — “ At seven o’clock, Sir.” 
 
 Dr. G. — “An excellent hour.” 
 
 Mr. B. — “ But it Avould be too early for the attendance of the giving 
 part of the community. Will you name any hour between ? ” — Pausing 
 Will ten do?” 
 
 Dr. C . — “ Very well : the women will have their children washed by 
 that time.” 
 
 Here ended the case of the sermon. An old gentleman, possessed of 
 considerable property, who was standing by at the time, devoutly wound 
 up the business of charities with, — “ The love of money is the root of all 
 eviV The Doctor replied, — “ If you think so, you may hand me over a 
 few of your bags, and I will soon show you, that I can do some good 
 with them.” 
 
PART VI. — SECTION III. 
 
 201 
 
 On the Doctor’s return to England, his eyes were much better, and 
 his health improved. He attended the English Conference held at 
 Bristol, and observed to a friend, — We are going on well at Con- 
 ference : the Connexion is in peace and prosperity. I am just returned 
 from the Irish Conference. Joseph has graduated and finished at the 
 University ; and was on the 10th instant, (July, 1825,) ordained by the 
 Archbishop of York. He is a blessed lad. Mrs. Rowley, we fear, is in a 
 dying state.” 
 
 In addition to the re-opening of the chapel in Mile’s Lane, Cannon 
 Street, London, he officiated at the opening of Brunswick Chapel, Leeds, 
 and Eastbrook Chapel, Bradford. A friend from Bradford writes, — 
 “The interest excited by the opening of Eastbrook Chapel, was con- 
 siderably increased by the desire of all ranks to see and hear our esteemed 
 friend Dr. Clarke, who had never before preached in Bradford, or its 
 immediate vicinity. The concourse of persons from all parts of the sur- 
 rounding country was exceedingly great, especially on Sunday, when the 
 chapels were crowded to excess, and hundreds of those who assembled 
 were disappointed of hearing the preachers in the chapels.” The Doctor 
 preached in the Hew Chapel, Friday, October 24, and in the Old Chapel, 
 in Kirkgate, on the Sabbath following. At Leeds, one of those dis- 
 graceful attempts to produce alarm, noticed in a few cases a short time 
 before, was employed on this occasion ; happily, however, without any 
 painful consequences, except a slight temporary disorder in some parts of 
 the congregation. So massive a building could not fail to inspire general 
 confidence. 
 
 A portion of the Doctor’s correspondence about this time, was pecu- 
 liarly interesting, especially that with a friend in Germany ; who, in 
 writing from Stultzgard, furnished him with many curious particulars, 
 and not a little instruction on Biblical subjects, with a highly interesting 
 account of the justly-celebrated Professor Von Ess, on whose library- 
 shelves the Doctor’s own Commentary was stated to occupy a prominent 
 position. In writing to Archdeacon Wrangham, he adverted to the 
 favourite subject of the projected Polyglott, stating, that he feared the 
 design was at an end, and that he would have been a willing slave in the 
 work under the patronage of the prelates. 
 
 He felt especially the kindness of the Archdeacon to his son, who had 
 just been ordained, and who officiated at Hunmanby as curate to him : 
 observing, that he himself had heard him preach once, and that he knew 
 the whole to be his own ; he was too independent to borrow. To another, 
 he observed, “Joseph is exceedingly steady, very conscientious, and likely 
 to be very useful. As soon as he can give up his notes, I believe he will 
 make a powerful preacher. He is already popular ; and what is seldom 
 the case, can have half of his hearers at least, deeply affected.” 
 
 The Doctor was honoured, before the year expired, with a visit from 
 
202 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 the Duke of Sussex, who expressed a wish to see his Oriental MSS., and 
 other literary rarities. His Royal Highness arrived about mid-day at 
 Haydon Hall, and -stopped till a late hour. In addition to the members 
 of the Doctor’s own family, J. Caley, Esq,, T. J. Pettigrew, Esq., and 
 J. Butterworth, Esq., and his son, dined together on the occasion. The 
 Duke expressed himself much pleased with his visit. 
 
 Though the Doctor’s health was not improved, yet his desire to visit 
 the Shetland Isles, became increasingly strong on the setting in of 1826 ; 
 and, as its spring advanced, was resolutely fixed to go, “ should Provi- 
 dence,” as he remarked, “ open the door so wide as to let him pass 
 through it.” 
 
 SECTION lY. 
 
 1826. 
 
 Now that the Commentary was brought to a close, and nearly all pub- 
 lished, the public were pretty fully awake to all its faults and to all its 
 excellencies ; and free remark was the result. That conflicting opinions 
 were entertained, might be expected : * but it would have been difiGicultj 
 
 * One of the least scrupulous, and most wholesale decisions against the work, is 
 given by a gentleman already noticed, in his “ Biographical Recollections of the Rev. 
 R. Hall,” where he presents his readers with an interview which Dr. Mason had with 
 that great man, pp. 323, 4. Dr. Mason stated, that the Commentary had been printed 
 at New York, but that it had produced general disappointment ; and was, therefore, 
 discontinued. With Dr. Mason’s criticisms, the biographer has no disposition to 
 interfere ; nor is there any wish to moot the fact of discontinuance. It may be proper 
 to observe, however, that, in 1826, when the conversation took place, only part of the 
 work was published — the whole not having been._completed till ten years afterwards : 
 suspension, therefore, — waiting for the succeeding parts, — might have been mistaken 
 for formal discontinuance. That this is at least probable, will appear from the subse- 
 quent popularity of the work. The New Testament was published before the Old was 
 finished, and the writer holds a copy of the former, in two vols. royal 8vo, which was 
 published at New York, in 1823— three years before the entire work came out of the 
 hands of the author. This edition was sold for 15s. ; and was absolutely stereotyped, 
 with a view to secure a cheap and extensive sale. There were two houses in New York, 
 publishing the work at the same time ; and such was the strife between them, to 
 command and preserve the market, that copies were sold at 5s. The Wesleyan Con- 
 ference stepped into the market with another edition of the New Testament, on fine 
 paper, at 30s. Mr. Tegg, after this, sent duplicate copies of his stereotype plates, of 
 the improved edition ; and, on the testimony of the American Episcopal ministers, the 
 work has had an extensive spread on the continent. Should there have been any 
 shyness in the first instance, it was subsequently removed. Perhaps a slight deduction 
 may be made on each side of the water ; Dr. Mason was an American, Mr. Morris was 
 partial to the Calvinistic school, and Dr. Clarke was a staunch Wesleyan. Those, 
 however, who embrace the Calvinistic side of the controversy, have but little occasion, 
 with Dr. Mason, to complain of the want of Catholic spirit in the man, who is 
 objected to, by the same person, for arguing in favour of the penitence of Judas. 
 
 Apart from the testimony of other competent judges, and as a set-off against 
 
PART VI. — SECTION IV. 
 
 203 
 
 perhaps, for some of the severest critics to have adduced such a mass of 
 classical elucidation of Sacred Writ, and of extensive Oriental and 
 Kabbinical reading ; and have united them with such pertinent and 
 pointed bearing on the salvation of the soul, as are brought together in 
 this great work. We might ask, whether, with all its faults, a Com- 
 mentary has been published, which has poured such a blaze of light on 
 Holy Writ, in modern days? Future ages, it is believed, will gratefully 
 estimate it — as an inexhaustible mine of Biblical illustration. 
 
 The following letter to Dr. Morrison — a man dear to every friend of 
 Christian missions, and whose Herculean toil' is now beginning to be 
 more fully appreciated in China, will be read with interest : — 
 
 Eastcott, Middlesex, March 19, 1826. 
 
 Rev. and dear Sir, — I am sorry that I have not had the pri- 
 vilege of seeing you before your departure : but I have been confined to 
 the house ever since the morning of New Year’s Day, when I caught a 
 cold, which brought an inflammation into my face and eyes, from which I 
 am but slowly recovering. 
 
 All the Commentary is printed off ; and as far as the letter R, of the 
 General Index ; and I should not wonder, if the remaining sheets should 
 be ready by the time you propose, God willing, to sail. At any rate, 
 you shall have all the sheets that may be ready at that time ; and should 
 there be any behind, I will order duplicates to be sent to you by separate 
 conveyances, that you may have the whole complete. One thing you 
 must indulge me in, else you will put me to pain. For some time, I have 
 purposed to beg your acceptance of a copy of this work, for your own 
 library. I am sorry it is not a large paper copy, but there is not one of 
 them left — they have been long out of print. I present this out of high 
 respect for your labours, and affection to your person. I have ordered it 
 in good boards, for it could not (a few parts excepted) be bound without 
 being spoiled ; as the ink of the latter parts, not being sufficiently dry, 
 would set-off. Your prayer for me, at the conclusion of your Note, is 
 worth a thousand copies of my Work. I return you mine in your own 
 words; — ‘‘May the power of Christ rest upon your person, your family, 
 
 Dr. Mason’s hasty criticism, the biographer may be permitted to give the following 
 sentiment, expressed by a correspondent in a letter, dated “Edinburgh, Decmeber 17, 
 1831 : ” — “Dr. Chalmers said in public — ‘ Dr. Clarke’s Commentary is the only critical 
 one in English worth reading j’ ” and, on his last visit to Bristol, a few days before his 
 death, being in company with a grandson of the commentator, he observed: “Mr. 
 Rowley, it is a great and learned work. Dr. C. is too fond of introducing his peculiar 
 notions, e.g., the Doctrine of Perfection ; but I study his Commentary frequently, and 
 mth great pleasure.” 
 
 As a matter of curiosity, it may be remarked, that the Princesses Elizabeth and 
 Sophia, each had a copy of the Doctor’s Notes, which Mr. Harding, the queen’s 
 librarian, had illustrated with plates from continental and other artists, for which 
 they gave eighty guineas per copy. 
 
204 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 and your abundant labours ! ” You had two lovely children — I think the 
 finest I ever saw — I have borne them on my knees ; kissed them often ; 
 and have carried them in my arms. It is many years since 1 saw them, 
 and they can have no remembrance of me ; please to tell them, however, 
 that they have an old man’s blessing, and his heartiest prayers. When 
 you sail, may His presence go with you, and give you rest. Amen. — 
 I am, Rev. Sir, Yours affectionately, — Adam Clarke. 
 
 The Doctor’s heart was set on his voyage to Shetland through the 
 whole of this spring : everything seemed to point to it. While on a visit 
 to a friend and supporter of the Mission, he was not a little encouraged 
 with present aid, and promises of additional support. In connection 
 with this visit, a little circumstance may be noticed, which shows the 
 admirable tact he had for improving passing occurrences. It was found, 
 on the party being seated round the hospitable board, that the servant 
 had neglected to put one of the legs of the table sufficiently out; the 
 consequence was, the table-leaf gave way, and one of the ladies received 
 
 the contents of a dish on her dress. Mrs felt a good deal 
 
 discomposed by the carelessness of the servant ; the Doctor immediately 
 observed, — “A mishap of this kind occurred in the presence of Mr. 
 Wesley once : on perceiving it, he turned to the lady, whose lap was filled 
 with the sauce, and, with a view to avert approaching wrath, observed, 
 ‘ How fortunate that it has happened here — and to you, madam, for I 
 know no one more able to bear it.’ ” The good lady of the house felt 
 the delicacy of the Doctor’s compliment, and all parties were instantly 
 restored to good humour. 
 
 The “Apocryphal Question” was at this time strongly agitated. 
 This w^as a source of great uneasiness to Dr. Clarke, because of the in- 
 fluence it exercised on the 'peace of the Bible Society. He addressed his 
 brother-in-law, Mr. Butterwortb, on the general question : * he con- 
 sidered it remarkable, that, in all his conversations with Roman Catholics, 
 they never appealed to the Apocrypha for the confirmation of their 
 tenets, except to the Maccabees, in reference to intercession for the dead. 
 
 It was about this time, too, that he expressed his views and feelings 
 respecting the Established Church, and the position in which he stood to 
 it, in two letters to G. W., Esq., Cumberland, afterwards published in 
 the “Christian Guardian” for 1832 ; t and to which reference is made, 
 not so much because of any literary merit attached to the correspondence, 
 but as to its being a key to several allusions to the Establishment in his 
 general writings, as well as a reason for some points of conduct. A letter 
 also to Mr. A. Wilson, on the education of his children, contains in it 
 several nice points often overlooked by parents. The last of these was 
 
 * See Miscellaneous Works,’* Vol. ii., p. 517. 
 
 t One of these is inserted in liis “Miscellaneous Works” also : Vol. ii., p. 530. 
 
PART VI. — SECTION IV. 
 
 205 
 
 written at Edinburgh, June 7tli, at which place he arrived on the 3rd, 
 in company with his oldest son, on his way to the Shetland Isles. 
 
 In consequence of some difficulties thrown in the way of a ready 
 passage to the Islands, he had to remain in Edinburgh till the 14th of 
 the same month, during which time he both occupied the pulpit himself, 
 and heard others expound the Word of life. Being asked whether he had 
 seen Sir Walter Scott in the course of his stay, he returned, “No; nor 
 was I anxious to see him : ” subjoining pleasantly, “ notwithstanding all 
 his losses, he has £1,500 for the office he holds, besides other things ; and 
 I know some greater men who could make a good living out of half of 
 it.” He had seen Jeffry previously to this, and heard him deliver the 
 closing speech in an appeal from Adam Smith, by whom he was retained, 
 against the Presbytery, who had refused to induct him. to a living, in 
 consequence of inability on special points. On that occasion, the Doctor 
 entered court at ten o’clock in the morning — the time of its opening, and 
 sat till six in the evening. He was exceedingly gratified by the speech in 
 question. On retiring, he turned to Dr. Beaumont, observing, “ And do 
 they say this man is an infidel ? I cannot believe it, and should like to 
 shake him by the hand.” 
 
 To some friends, who proposed to accompany him on his voyage, he 
 observed, “At present there is no mode of conveyance to those Islands, 
 and I do not think God is bound to work a miracle to take us there. I 
 was once at Southampton waiting for a passage to the Norman Isles : the 
 wind was contrary for eight or ten days : I went out every morning to 
 see whether there was any appearance of a change, and was very uneasy, 
 fretting and repining. One morning, I met an old captain, and said to 
 him, — Captain, the wind is still foul; ^Yes,’ said he, ‘but it is fair for 
 some body.’ I was struck with the expression, and said, — Adam, what 
 is this you have been saying? How many fathers, husbands, brothers, 
 sons, who have been long from home, will this same wind bring to those 
 who have been anxiously expecting them ? God must form a particular 
 will relative to a particular object, and, to use a common saying, — I have 
 never thought it was worth God’s while to form such a will in reference to 
 anything in which I was engaged.” Though the Doctor thus expressed 
 himself relative to his own plans and operations, yet he had no doubt, 
 taking in the full range of a special providence, that God not unfrequently 
 stepped out of his ordinary course, in answer to the prayer of faith, for 
 the accomplishment of objects in which his servants might be engaged, 
 and to which, in the first instance, they might be led by the influence of 
 the Holy Spirit upon the mind. In support of this, he related a remark- 
 able interposition of Providence in answer to prayer, which took place 
 when Mr. Wesley, Dr. Coke, and Mr. Bradford, visited the Norman 
 Isles, and when he himself was with them, beating about under contrary 
 winds. 
 
206 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 There were, at length, three apparent openings for the voyage — a vessel 
 for cattle, a Revenue Cutter, and the Fidelity ; the Norna having sailed 
 just before the Doctor’s arrival : but still he was in suspense in conse- 
 quence of certain impediments connected with each. ‘‘ I well remember,” 
 said he to his friends, “ that God did not permit David to build a temple 
 for him, though he said, ‘ it was well that it was in thine heart to do it.’ 
 So may it be with me. He may not permit me to go to Shetland, though 
 he may say, ‘ Adam, it was well that it was in thine heart to go.’ Now, 
 I will not force my passage : God can do without me there ; and I have 
 an awful warning in the five Missionaries who were lately drowned in the 
 West Indies, by the wreck of the Maria mail-boat, not to force my way.^ 
 I had to correct our Chairman, Mr. Butter worth, the other day, at our 
 Missionary Meeting in Birmingham, upon the subject. He, and some 
 others, had been saying. What a mysterious providence the loss of the 
 five Missionaries with their wives and children was — Mrs. Jones excepted. 
 By-and-bye, I was called to speak. I said, ‘ Mr. Chairman, I see no 
 mystery in all this business. To me it all appears plain. I read in my 
 Bible, ‘ He that believeth, shall not make haste.’ These excellent men did 
 make haste. They had hired a vessel of their own to convey the Mission- 
 aries to their different stations. They had left one in his place : the wind 
 was contrary ; they grew impatient ; left their own vessel, and betook 
 themselves to the mail-boat. One was of this mind at first, and he 
 ultimately brought the others to his own way of thinking. They left 
 their luggage to come onward in their own vessel. In due time, it 
 reached the desired port in safety ; but they were lost. These men. Sir, 
 though with the best intentions, but through too great anxiety to get 
 to their several destinations, went out of the way of Divine Provi- 
 dence; they made haste; and there is the whole mystery.’ Now, I am 
 instructed by this : unless I can get a passage to Shetland in a providential 
 way, not to go at all. Let us, then, examine the information we have 
 obtained ; — here is this Bulloch vessel : all filth, and no accommodation, 
 save the bare deck to lie upon : that will not do. The Revenue Cutter I 
 leave out of the question. Had I known before I left London, I could 
 have procured a Government order to have taken us to Shetland. In that 
 case, there would have been extra berths made up, which would have been 
 charged to Government. Our only chance is the Fidelity. We will wait 
 till she comes in ; and say to her owners, — ‘ Here are four gentlemen who 
 
 * T his painful calamity occurred in the month of February, and was still vivid in 
 the recollection. The Doctor observed, on another occasion, in reference to this 
 melancholy event, — I am afraid some of our people have been making an ungodly 
 boast of the preservation of our Missionaries, none till then having been lost j and Grod 
 has taken away the lives of these excellent men, and has also permitted the loss of 
 Lynx and Threlfal. This ought to teach us to pray for the preservation of our 
 Missionaries. Still, I think, that those who were lost in the Maria mail-boat, ought to 
 have stopped with their luggage.'* 
 
PART VI. — SECTION IV. 
 
 207 
 
 wish to go to Shetland ; and would willingly give something extra in order 
 to get off without being detained but they are not obliged to go ; therefore, 
 they will not make any great sacrifices. If, however, a few pounds addi- 
 tional to their regular passage-money will be an object with you, they 
 will give them : if not, they will separate, and each pursue his own 
 course. I would be willing to give twenty-five pounds in addition to our 
 passage-money ; but further, I would not like to go, as I should consider 
 that as forcing a passage.” 
 
 At this time, the Doctor was allowed £100 per annum for his services 
 in the first London circuit. Not being able to attend to his pulpit duties 
 the former part of the year, he returned his quarter’s salary, which the 
 Stewards sent to him. ‘‘ I would not,” said he to a friend, “ take their 
 money, when I could not do their work ; I could get on without it : but 
 this quarter’s salary,” he added, smiling, “ I have in my pocket, and it 
 will help to pay my passage to Shetland, if I go.” As he was not dis- 
 posed to take the wages without the work, so he had no disposition to 
 hoard up treasure on earth : he received it from the hand of God, in his 
 providence, and it was expended on the cause of God, in the Church. 
 The intended voyage stood in connection with the cause of God among 
 the Wesleyans in the Islands. 
 
 He preached in Nicholson’s Square, on the forenoon of the 11th. His 
 text was Mark i. 15 ; and the sermon was distinguished for a rich vein of 
 evangelical sentiment, and was accompanied with fine feeling. 
 
 A friend passing along the street, saw a cart of hay upset ; two or 
 three carters assisted in extricating the animal, while several persons 
 stood by, without the least inclination to lend a hand. This was noticed 
 in illustration of national character ; the friend observing, “If an Irish^ 
 man had been there, and had been in danger of doing more harm than 
 good by his rashness, still he would have jumped at it at once.” The 
 narrator being an Irishman, and forgetting that he himself had acted the 
 part of a mere observer, and by that seemed to forfeit the character he 
 was giving to his countrymen, the Doctor struck in, and said, “ I’ll tell 
 you, then, what Pat did. I was going up Market Street, in Manchester, 
 and saw a poor fellow toiling up the street with a truck. The street was 
 too steep for him. He angled it to get up, but made very little progress. 
 An inward Adam said, ‘ Go and help him.’ But immediately another 
 Adam said, ‘ This is a public place, and you will be seen.’ ‘ It is a shame 
 of you,’ said the inward Adam, ‘go aud help the man.’ After some 
 more reasonings, I yielded ; went behind the truck, and pushed to the 
 top of the ascent. The man went on more speedily ; but knew not he 
 had help, till he gained the summit, when he saw me coming from behind. 
 I said to him, ‘ I believe you can manage the rest of the way yourself : ’ 
 I left him staring, and marched onwards.” This bore admirably on the 
 propriety of imitating the character we praise. On Mr. John Clarke 
 
203 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 lauding Herbert as ‘‘one of our best poets,” the Doctor said, “ He is as 
 rough as a porcupine, but every word is full of meaning.” 
 
 The horizon seemed to be clearing on the 9th, for the voyage, at a 
 moment when he was meditating a visit to the Hebrides, in order to go 
 to the Isle of Mull, the residence of his maternal ancestors ; or to return 
 to London, and from thence to proceed to Ireland with the President, — 
 connecting with the latter the opening of a new chapel at Lurgan : the 
 Woodlarh^ a cutter engaged, together with the Investigator^ in a survey 
 of the Shetland group, touched at Leith. Captain Frembly agreed to 
 take the Doctor and his son, but could not take their companions, though 
 they pledged themselves to sleep upon deck. But as the captain had to 
 go to Inverkeithing for coals and provisions, he promised to call for the 
 Doctor on his return, which he hoped would be about noon on the 13th. 
 Not arriving at the time, the Doctor observed to one of his companions, 
 “ My mind has taken a very unworthy turn relative to the Shetland busi- 
 ness. If I do not get off, it will be said, ‘ Here is a man who began to 
 build, and could not finish.’ ” Then, lifting up his heart to God, he 
 emphatically said, “ Thy will be done.” The Woodlark at length hove in 
 sight, while he was walking to and fro on the beach ; and he was soon 
 enabled to enter on board, where he was kindly received by the captain, 
 his lady, and the officers. One thing which ingratiated the Doctor into 
 the kindly feelings of Captain Trembly was, the fact of the latter having 
 heard him preach, and been in a Missionary meeting, some time pre- 
 viously, in which the Doctor had taken a part, and in which he felt deeply 
 interested. 
 
 As a pretty full account of his journey to Edinburgh — his preparations 
 — the voyage — his visit to the Isles — his return — and several circum- 
 stances connected with the whole, is to be found in his “ Miscellaneous 
 Works,” * it is only needful to touch, as heretofore, on any little incident 
 as yet unnoticed. His account of the storm through which the vessel 
 passed on her way to Lerwick, is described with great force and accuracy, 
 and shows the difference between the narration of a storm of which we 
 have heard, and one in which we have actually been. As the preachers 
 were unable to accommodate him, and there was no inn at Lerwick, a 
 lodging was procured at the house of a person who was hostile to the 
 Wesleyans. The man, however, was so won upon by the Doctor’s spirit 
 and demeanour, that he strove in every possible way to render his abode 
 with him agreeable, and collected for him several curiosities to enrich 
 his museum. The preachers dined with him at his lodgings, where they 
 had an entertainment peculiar to the Island, at two shillings per head ; 
 which, in London, would not have cost less than ten shillings per man. 
 His host even went so far as to go and hear him preach, and was much 
 pleased with the discourse. When seated at the table, a subject leading 
 ♦ See Vol. iiii., pp. 267—298. 
 
PART VI. — SECTION IV. 
 
 209 
 
 to the remark being introduced, the Doctor said, “Persons talk about 
 nations and character ; there is my John, — he is a Frenchman, having 
 been born in the Norman Isles, — I am Irish, — Lewis, sitting there, is 
 Welch, — there is a fourth in the company, English, — a fifth Scotch, — 
 and there are others who are Zetlanders : here we are aU met, and, I 
 trust, we shall all meet again — meet with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, in 
 the kingdom of God ! but what would heaven be with all these ? I would 
 not go to heaven to see Abraham, much as I revere his memory ! What 
 would heaven be without Abraham’s God ? ” 
 
 Among other conversations with Dr. Edmondson, the historian of 
 the Shetland Islands, the latter observes to Dr. Clarke, that as soon as 
 the “ Pirate ” was published, he was led into the secret of the “ Great 
 Unknown,” and at once filiated the ‘‘ Waverley Novels” on Sir Walter 
 Scott: further adding, that he accompanied Sir Walter in his various 
 rambles over the Islands, when he was collecting materials for the work ; 
 complaining, at the same time, of a want of accuracy in his descriptions 
 of scenery, — having placed rocks, &c., where none were visible.* 
 
 His introduction to Dr. Edmondson was somewhat singular; the 
 latter being rather eccentric — occasionally unceremonious, — bold, — inde- 
 pendent, — and highly original. He rushed into the room where Dr. 
 Clarke was seated, being on familiar terms with its proprietor : the 
 Doctor rose, and paid his respects to him, expressing a hope, that he had 
 not obtruded himself into his room, when Dr. E. instantly satisfied him, 
 by answering in the negative : and then, as if to test the temper of Dr. 
 C., proceeded, — 
 
 Dr. E. — “ Many visit the Shetlands, who take away false, reports, and 
 labour to make the impression, that the people are destitute of the com- 
 forts of life.” 
 
 Dr. C. — “ I am not responsible for others ; but as it regards myself, 
 I came with no such intention.” 
 
 Dr, E , — “ What, sir, are we to understand by the term comfort ! 
 take the French, for instance.” 
 
 Dr, C, — “Take the word in French, soulage, that comes nearest 
 to it.” 
 
 Dr, E, — “I beg your pardon, sir, but that is not the word; it 
 gives no idea of it at all.” Here Dr. C. observed to the writer, that 
 he felt all that was Adam, with a portion of his countryman, rising in 
 him. 
 
 Dr, C. — “ I have no objection, sir, to contest the point with you : 
 take the verb from whence the word, which I have just quoted, is 
 derived.” 
 
 * This inaccuracy was observed in 1828, by the biographer, when sailing past the 
 part of the island where the scene of Norna’s cave is laid; there being no cave near the 
 spot, though bold and rocky precipices were not wanting. 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 O 
 
210 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 Dr. E. continued in the same mood, after the debate was closed, and 
 then quitted the house. Subsequently, he paid Dr. Clarke eyery atten- 
 tion, and went to hear him preach. Though he could not gain access to 
 the chapel for the crowd, he went into a kind of cellar below, where he 
 heard distinctly, and signed a petition, which was drawn up by the 
 principal inhabitants, requesting that the sermon should be printed. As 
 a further proof of his kindly feeling, he presented Dr. Clarke with a 
 pair of lamb’s-wool gloves, which were considered a great curiosity, being 
 partly claret, ring-straked, and speckled, and perfectly natural ; as if, in 
 the language of the recipient, “ J acob’s flock had reached the Islands.” 
 Dr. E. told him, that he had read his “ Wesley Family,” and was much 
 pleased with it. The latter presented him with Moore’s “ Life of 
 Wesley : ” but on receiving it — though courteously accepted— he observed, 
 “That man has tried his hand at the work before, but made nothing 
 out;” adding, “John Wesley was one of the greatest men that ever 
 lived.” 
 
 When passing from Lerwick to Scalloway, on a Shetland pony, on hii 
 way to Walls, Dr. Clarke paused, and looked around him, and then 
 observed with somewhat of pleasantry, “ I cannot conceive what God 
 made these Islands for, unless it was to be a kind of balance for some 
 other part of the world.” On reaching Walls, he preached to the people 
 from the top of an old tar-barrel,^' but forgot part of his text, which he 
 candidly acknowledged ; then observed, — “ To return to what I forgot : 
 many people have spent a great deal of time in guessing the precise site of 
 
 * This was occasionally employed as a scaffolding, and for the purpose of holding 
 lime, in the erection of the chapel, which was then about half finished. It was still on 
 the premises when the biographer visited Walls with the Doctor, in 1828 ; and was 
 filled by the former with mineral specimens, and brought home to England. It was 
 afterwards taken in pieces, and made into two neat boxes, in remembrance of its more 
 sacred service as a rostrum ; in one of which boxes- was deposited the hat which the 
 venerable preacher wore during the present visit, and which lay by his side, while on 
 what he elsewhere denominated his “ standing place.” Some other particulars might 
 be stated, — curious withal, in this “Tale of a Tub.” “As to the poor old hat,” the 
 Doctor jocosely observed to the writer, before it came to hand, whose foible he was 
 willing to indulge, “ It is reserved sacredly for you. By the time I returned from con- 
 tending with the North seas, it was abused and broken. It was the covering of my head 
 by day, and often my nightcap, when I went do^vn to the sides of the ship by night. It 
 was made for the purpose, and is, for its work’s sake, respectable in its ruins. The 
 shoes and little silver buckles are promised to another, who earnestly requested the 
 hat. But Mother would not hear the request, for she said she had promised the fine 
 beaver to Mr. E. How powerful are we, when we get the good women on our sidel” 
 On this hat, the writer, in an imaginative mood, intended to found something like a 
 sale, embodying in it as much of the real history of the voyage as could be collected, 
 with prohdble musings of the Aeod beneath it, in certain situations and under peculiar 
 circumstances, — the whole carrying with it as great an air of credibility as the history 
 of a “ Velvet Cushion.” This notion, still fioating in the region of the biographer’s 
 mind, led to the reply : “The shoes only covered the feet — the hat overshadowed the 
 head and the brain ; and as the head has effected more than the feet, for the products of 
 which you will be as generally and as highly honoured, as for any of your pedestrian 
 excursions, the hat is preferred to ‘ silver ’ and even to gold.” 
 
PART VI. — SECTION IV. 
 
 211 
 
 the paradise of the Bible ; the wisest men have differed in their opinion 
 on the subject ; no one of them has been able positively to state where it 
 was : but I can tell you.” Here the innocent, scantily read, yet intelli- 
 gent Islanders, were all attention ; and when he had wound them up by 
 two OP three more exciting remarks, he exclaimed with animation, — 
 “ Paradise is to be found at Walls : Wherever God is, there is paradise. 
 Show me where God is, and I will show you paradise. It is “ His 
 presence makes our paradise ! ” The effect was powerful ; for a consider- 
 able unction attending the discourse, the people found, even in that 
 dreary waste, with the God of the Bible, and in the ministry of the Word 
 — “ Paradise Regained.” 
 
 Though exceedingly cautious not to allow anything to enter the 
 pulpit, which did not in every way comport with its sanctity, its dignity, 
 and its simplicity, yet one instance may be named in which his imagina- 
 tion, over which he exercised such sovereign control, while discharging 
 the ministerial office, and his feelings which were under equal subjection, 
 broke away from their usual restraint. When preaching at Lerwick on 
 Romans xv. 4,* some remarks which he made, led him to observe that 
 God is happy, and that he made man to be happy. Anxious that the 
 people should feel what God intended them to enjoy, and some sweet 
 emotions rising in the soul at the same moment — bubbling up, in unison 
 with the more hallowed influence of heaven, from the fountain of his own 
 native benevolence, he gave utterance to a couplet which flashed like 
 lightning through the soul — 
 
 When God, his First-horn, into the world did bring, 
 
 He said. My lad, don’t cry, but laugh, and sing.” 
 
 It was the first time he had ever quoted Peter Pindar in the pulpit ; he 
 was astonished at himself afterwards — and would gladly have recalled the 
 expression, though in love with the sentiment : but it was too late. It 
 came ; it went ; “ or ever he was aware, his soul made him like the 
 chariots of xlmminadab ; ” the hurried emotion of the heart obtained the 
 ascendency. True joy, is described by Seneca, as a serene and sober 
 motion : but that is the joy of the close fc and of philosophy, not of the 
 pulpit : in tlie latter, Lavater — who had tasted it — tells us, that he who 
 can conceal his joys is greater than he who can hide his griefs.” 
 
 On his return from the Islands, where he had preached, visited 
 several of the societies, and satisfied himself on the genuineness of the 
 work of God among the people, he landed at Aberdeen, Monday, July the 
 10th. Here he called on J. Bentley, Professor of the Oriental languages, 
 in King’s College, but found he had left home. He next called on Dr. 
 Kidd, O.LL.P., Marischal College, who took him over the University, 
 
 * It was this discourse that he was requested to publish, and which was soon after 
 printed. 
 
 o 2 
 
212 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 with the state of which he was but ilhsatisfied. The Professor, with 
 others, dined with him at Anderson’s Hotel. The conversation was 
 varied and literary in its character. 
 
 When Dr. Clarke reached Edinburgh, he was informed of the unex- 
 pected death of his brother-in-law, Joseph Butter worth, Esq., late M.P. 
 for Dover; also of the death of another brother-ia-law, Mr. James 
 York ; together with that of the Bev. Charles Atmore. The first 
 especially, affected him much. The Rev. Richard Watson improved the 
 occasion of Mr. Butter worth’s death, in a sermon which was afterwards 
 published ; furnishing a calm and dignified exhibition of the excellent 
 character of the deceased, in the true spirit of the short but expressive 
 sentence selected as a text on the occasion — “ And they glorified God in 
 me.” The mind of the preacher appeared, through the whole of the dis- 
 course, to be under the hallowing influence of the great principle which 
 he deduced, in the most natural and proper manner, from his text, — Of 
 honouring God in man, and man in God. On this principle Mr. Watson 
 proceeded to a general view of the character and conduct of the venerated 
 Butterworth ; commencing with an account of his conversion to the true 
 knowledge of the faith of our Lord Jesus Christ, he passed to what he 
 called his habitual rehgious character ; and showed it to have been devo- 
 tional, social, truly catholic, zealous, and benevolent ; and concluded with 
 an interesting view of his public character, both as a member of the 
 Church of Christ, and that of the British Senate. It is to be regretted 
 that a full Life of this excellent man has not been published, as such a 
 work would throw considerable light upon the religious history of this 
 country for a period of at least between twenty and thirty years ; for 
 nearly with the whole of the Philanthropic Institutions he was in one 
 way or another connected ; and he would have presented to the view of 
 mankind one of the most remarkable instances upon record of the bless- 
 ing of Divine Providence upon Christian industry and liberahty. His 
 correspondence with pious persons of all denominations was, perhaps, as 
 extensive as that of any other man in Europe, and would no doubt 
 furnish selections of very superior value. He died at his house in 
 Bedford Square, Friday, June 30 th. The Wesleyan Conference adopted 
 the following Resolution, expressive of their esteem and affection for 
 him : 
 
 “The Conference deem it their mournful duty to record in their 
 minutes, the recent and lamented death of Joseph Butterworth, Esq., 
 late General Treasurer of the Wesleyan Missionary Society ; and they 
 cannot make this record without expressing their deep sense of the zeal, 
 attention, and liberality, with which he fulfilled the duties of that oflGice, 
 as well as of the distinguished excellences of his general character. The 
 large advances of money which he often cheerfully made to our Mis- 
 sionary Society, when its funds were under temporary pressure ; the 
 
PART VI. — SECTION IV. 
 
 213 
 
 spiritual and interesting manner in which, when called to the chair of its 
 Annual Meetings, he conducted the proceedings of that Society ; his 
 exertions in visiting many of the Auxiliary and Branch Societies in the 
 country, by which he consecrated the influence of his name and station to 
 advance the interests of our Missions ; and the advantages which the 
 Committee derived from his judgment and counsels, and from the infor- 
 mation which his extensive correspondence and connections enabled him 
 to communicate ; are subjects of grateful but affecting recollection. By 
 his efforts in favour of religious liberty, in Parliament, and the zealous 
 manner in which he exerted himself when applications to His Majesty’s 
 Government were rendered necessary, in order to obtain protection for 
 our Missionaries in the Colonies, and to procure the modiflcation or dis- 
 allowance of restricting or prosecuting laws, the Conference was laid 
 under additional obligations. Nor was there anything which related to 
 the stability, extension, or success of the Wesleyan Missions, into which 
 he did not enter with an affectionate and permanent interest. Great is 
 the loss which our society has sustained by this bereavement. But it 
 becomes us to bow with submission to the dispensations of Almighty God, 
 and to commit the great cause, in all its departments, by a renewed act 
 of faith, to his own special care, trusting in his promises, and remember- 
 ing that, while the strong are not efficient without Him, the weak in his 
 hand shall become ‘ as the Angel of the Lord.’ ” 
 
 Dr. Clarke left Scotland by the Soho steam-packet, Saturday, July 
 15th, and, after a voyage of about 600 miles in forty-five hours, landed 
 at Blackwall in safety. The entire journey was, at least, 2,000 miles. 
 On his return, neither the demands of others, nor his own habits of 
 industry, would allow him any relaxation from labour. He had assisted 
 in opening a new chapel in Islington, in the Spring of the year, and he 
 re-opened another at Hackney, on his return. The effects of his labours 
 in reference to the Shetland Mission, which commenced during his third 
 presidency, being fully appreciated, the following note was appended to 
 the Shetland stations, by order of the Liverpool Conference of this year : 
 — “ Dr. Adam Clarke is requested to correspond regularly with the 
 preachers in the Shetland Isles, and to give them such advices and direc- 
 tions as he may deem necessary. Dr. Clarke is also authorised to receive 
 donations for the support of the preachers on those Islands ; which dona- 
 tions shall be regularly paid, on account, to the treasurer of the Contin- 
 gent Fund.” 
 
 Yet, notwithstanding this general expression and appreciation of the 
 value of Dr. Clarke’s services in aid of the Shetland Missions, it was 
 known and regretted by many, that the two influential General Secre- 
 taries at the Mission House, Messrs. Bunting and Watson, were 
 exceedingly parsimonious in the countenance they gave to the Doctor 
 and the Shetland Mission, only allowing as much to appear as would 
 
214 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 serve as a screen from the charge of something in the shape of indiffer- 
 ence, or something worse, which marred the whole, while they were careful 
 to keep themselves, and their own department, prominently before the 
 public, both on the Platform and in the Monthly Notices, and General 
 Keports. A little more might have been ceded, on various fitting occasions, 
 to the services of Dr. Clarke, without stint to themselves. The former of 
 the two secretaries, acted from personal feeling, the latter, unworthily, 
 allowed himself to be influenced by him, which is the more to be re- 
 gretted, from the high position he himself took in the body, without 
 designedly seeking for it, like his compeer, and working to that end. 
 Eichard Watson was a magnificent man, as a whole. Too much is not 
 said of him in the “ Wesleyan Takings ; ” more than enough of his fellow. 
 
 Among other things from Dr. Clarke’s pen, chiefly contributed to the 
 periodical literature of the press, about this time, was a translation of the 
 deeply pathetic, sublime, and beautiful Liturgy of St. Dioscorus, 
 Patriarch of Alexandria, found in an ancient Ethiopic MS., formerly 
 belonging to Dr. Pocock, and published by J. M. Wansleb, of Erfurt, at 
 the end of Ludolph’s Ethiopic Lexicon ; — an example of the simplicity of 
 the Mohammedan law, taken from the original ; — a curious case, told in 
 the Negaristan, of a famous lawyer at Bagdad, called Abn- Joseph, shoW' 
 ing several peculiarities in the Mohammedan law, and displaying no 
 small degree of casuistical ingenuity in adapting them to the views of his 
 clients, — the whole illustrative of “ the glorious uncertainty of the law ; ” 
 and several articles embodied in the creed of the Abyssinians, which had 
 been intended for another work, but which he had abandoned, and 
 which, on the present occasion, he illustrated by curious notes. 
 
 In course of the same month that the Doctor re-opened Hackney 
 Chapel, he assisted in opening Teviot Dale Chapel, in Stockport ; the pre- 
 vailing order of the architecture of which is the Doric, and one of the 
 largest and most chastely magnificent erections in the Connexion. The 
 collection in the morning amounted to £180. The biographer having 
 been engaged in the Hill Gate Chapel, on the same occasion, was unable 
 to hear the Doctor ; but the account given of the sermon, by those who 
 heard it, was highly eulogistic ; and such was the effect produced on his 
 reading the Morning Service, that he was urged to read it again on the 
 Monday morning following. 
 
 The same Christian zeal which animated him at Millbrook, glowed in 
 his breast at Hay don Hall, Eastcot. He fitted up a house for preaching 
 on his own premises, at his own expense, which was opened November 
 19 th. Writing to a friend, he observed, “ I hope you will come and 
 spend some time with me at Hay don Hall. I have turned a large stable 
 and coach-house into a chapel ; and have got a Sunday School of more 
 than fourscore children ! We have preaching every Sabbath, and a far 
 brighter prospect than ever we had at Millbrook. If you come to see us, 
 
PART VI. — SECTION IV. 
 
 215 
 
 you shall preach and teach till you are v/eary ; and, besides this, I have 
 several repairs in some of my fine MSS., which require such a hand as 
 yours to effect.” Knowing to whom he was writing, he next displayed 
 the “ruling passion,” and would not allow the opportunity to escape 
 without throwing out his line to catch what was passing ; — “ I find this 
 head of Alexander in a deep oak frame. Is there anything curious in 
 this ? Is it a piece of any of the trees in Adam and Eve’s bower ? or one 
 of the girders of Noah’s ark ? Anything coming thus from you, I consider 
 very curious and very rare. Can we get any of W ’s shekels ? ” 
 
 In another letter to the biographer about this time, he remarks, ‘ ‘ I shall 
 be exceedingly glad to have the thing you mention ; even on loan — ^you 
 have given me already, what I have made good use of, and hope to profit 
 much by what you may yet get^ and what you may lend. I hope soon to 
 see your large volume of early poetry. I will take sacred care of it. 
 Send it immediately. I need not tell you how great an advantage a man 
 derives from having the originals before him : it gives confidence to him ; 
 and confidence and satisfaction, to the Reader. Indeed, I always feel 
 but half convinced of the truth of what I quote from copy : but when I 
 can get nothing else, I am thankful for even this. For the second 
 edition, I have already got engraven, an exact fac-similie of the Petition 
 of the Ministers of London., to King Charles //., against the evils of the 
 Act of Uniformity : — you will be pleased to find names, as written by 
 their own hands., of the most eminent Divines of that day, — Annesley, 
 Bibs, Jacomb, Manton, Bates, Clark, &c. &c. 
 
 “ I will inquire about ‘ Methodism in Sheffield.’ Shame to those who 
 have neglected it. I have plenty of coals; and will roast them when I 
 find them out. 
 
 “Your box of valuables came to hand before I left Lancashire, and 
 are now safe in London. Miss Holy’s, and her excellent father’s barrels 
 of hardware, &c., for the Shetland Mission, have also safely arrived at 
 Lerwick, and to the astonishment of the Shets, are distributed, as the old 
 woman said, ‘free gratis, for nothing.’ To Mr. Beet, I have given the 
 necessary directions how to send. — I do most heartily hope, that Mr. D. 
 may send nothing. What he even promised, is superseded by other ex 
 corde donations. I pity the man who gives nothing to God — a time will 
 come, when God will give nothing to him. Give my heartiest love to 
 your good wife — and good she is, or I have miscalculated both her coun- 
 tenance and carriage. I am, my dear Brother E., yours affectionately, — 
 
 “Adam Clarke. 
 
 “I have returned your Books by the Rev. T. Smith, with hearty 
 thanks for the loan. — I brought to my lodgings a small imperfect Latin 
 MS. containing a few fragments of St. Augustin, which I think was not 
 settled for.” 
 
216 
 
 ADAM CLAKKE. 
 
 Thomas Holy, Esq., of Sheffield, and his excellent family, noticed in 
 the letter, are entitled to more than a passing notice, in connection with 
 Wesleyan Methodism. The Shetland Mission forms but a small item in 
 the outgoings of Mr. Holy’s expansive benevolence. His excellent 
 mother was connected with the Methodists as far back as 1760, and his 
 own house was the home of John Wesley, when he visited Sheffield. On 
 one of the last visits of the venerable man to the town, when between 
 eighty and ninety years of age, the congregation followed him from the 
 chapel, where he had preached to them, to Mr. Holy’s house ; and un- 
 willing to disperse, the apostolic man, like his namesake of olden times, 
 whom he so much resembled — John, “the beloved disciple,” gave them a 
 second blessing, by preaching a second sermon, in front of the house, sup- 
 porting himself by his hands on Mr. Holy’s shoulders. A fine picture ! 
 worthy of Apostolic times, — reminding us of “ Paul the aged,” and the 
 younger Timothy, who was so much indebted, under God, for personal 
 piety, to his “grandmother Lois” and his “mother Eunice.” What a 
 blessing, when under the hallowing hand of God, religion may be said to 
 become hereditary. 
 
 Mr. Holy, to whom the biographer was deeply indebted for many 
 kind personal attentions, was a fine character. He was not one of those 
 narrow souls, which the good of himself, or of his own relations and 
 friends, could alone fill ; but one, wdio, with a benevolence warm as the 
 heat of the sun, and diffusive as its light, took in all mankind, and was 
 sincerely glad to see poverty, whether in friend or foe, relieved, and 
 w’^orth cherished ; thus making the good done even by others his own, by 
 the complacency which he took in seeing and hearing of its overflowings. 
 There cannot be a more glorious object in creation, than a human being- 
 replete with benevolence, meditating in what manner he niay render him- 
 self most acceptable to his Creator, by doing most good to his creatures. 
 He was one of those men, who, to gain a good reputation, according to 
 Socrates, endeavoured to be what he desired to appear ; one, whose good 
 sense preserved him from censoriousness, — which led him to distinguish 
 circumstances, — kept him from looking after visionary perfection, and 
 enabled him to see things in their proper light. It led him to look at 
 dispositions, peculiarities, accommodations ; to weigh consequences ; to 
 determine what to observe and what to pass by ; when to be immovable 
 and when to yield. It produced good manners, kept him from taking 
 freedoms, and handling things roughly, — to shim agitating claims of 
 superiority, and teach due submission. It led him to regard his own 
 duties, rather than to recommend those of others ; and religion coming to 
 the aid of his good sense, impressed him with the fact, that the first great 
 gift he was bound to bestow upon others was — a good example, combined 
 with “ good fruit.” 
 
 The place referred to, fitted up for worship, at Haydon Hall, became 
 
PAPwT VI. — SECTION IV. 
 
 217 
 
 excessively crowded ; and being incapable of enlargement, the Doctor 
 resolved on constructing a chapel on a larger scale ; the expense and 
 superintendence of which devolved also on himself. This chapel, which 
 was twenty-six feet by nineteen, and furnished with pulpit, pews, and 
 forms, and capable of holding 250 hearers, was opened the March follow- 
 ing by the Doctor himself. The writer had the pleasure of preaching in 
 it when on a visit to the Doctor ; and was much pleased with the con- 
 gregation, which had been reared under his fostering care. The Doctor 
 had preached in Windsor in the earlier part of his ministerial history ; 
 but, till now, there was little personal religion in the immediate vicinity 
 of his own residence. His anxiety to promote the interests of evangelical 
 truth was as intense as ever ; and the power of Methodism to do its part, 
 in the conversion of the world, was, in his esteem, as great as at the 
 first. “ I am sick,” said he, to hear some persons talk of Original 
 Methodism. I declare to you, that, to my own certain knowledge, 
 there is more genuine piety this day in the Methodist Connexion, 
 taking numbers for numbers, than I ever knew since I began to 
 preach.” 
 
 In the autumn of this year. His Royal Highness the Duke of Sussex 
 visited Haydon Hall, and dined with the Doctor and his family. He 
 was much pleased with the Library, and especially the MS. department, 
 — amounting to nearly 1,000 volumes, — among which were several beau- 
 tiful Oriental MSS., highly illuminated; including the famous ten 
 Hebrew MSS. formerly belonging to the Yanderhagen family, and 
 noticed by Dr. Kennicott in the introduction to his Bible, which Dr. 
 Clarke sent his bookseller over to Holland to purchase, authorising him 
 to purchase at any price “ short of a ransom.” In the course of the same 
 month. His Royal Highness was pleased to constitute Dr. Clarke’s 
 youngest son one of his chaplains. 
 
 On the Doctor’s return from London, January, 1827, where he had 
 been preaching, his horse ran away and dashed the carriage over, by 
 which he was seriously injured, and narrowly escaped with his life. The 
 effects of this were felt some time after ; and, towards the close of March, 
 he remarked, in a letter to a friend, — “ I have not been well lately ; and 
 have, since Christmas, had three or four very serious seizures : but all is 
 well, while we are in His hands, who hateth nothing that He has made.’’ 
 He was so far restored as to be able to preach in Great Queen Street 
 Chapel, London, Feb. 18, which was the first time of his appearance in 
 public after the accident. 
 
 Mr. Watson, who was President of the Conference for the year, 
 finding some cases turning up, (one especially, in London,) somewhat 
 difficult to deal with, frequently consulted the Doctor as to the course it 
 was most proper to pursue in order to settle them. This, after some 
 estrangement originating in the controversy on the Eternal Sonship of 
 
218 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 Christ, brought them into more familiar intercourse with each other, 
 which was viewed with pleasure by the friends of each. 
 
 To the Eev. Thomas Smith, Classical Tutor of Hasbro’ College, the 
 Doctor wrote, in the course of this year ; an extract from his letter 
 conveys an admirable hint to preachers : — “ You know my opinion of 
 your propria qu 83 marihus work. Give it up : — some dull plodder will do 
 as well as you — and yet such cannot do the work which God has given 
 you to do. Give up your endless writing of sermons, and torturing your 
 mind by committing so much to memory. Preach from your knowledge 
 of God, from your experimental knowledge of divine things, from Christ 
 dwelling in your heart by faith, from the cloven tongue of fire which 
 God has given you ; then your ministry will be tenfold more blessed than 
 ever. Let those who can do no better deal in their mouldy Gibeonitish 
 crusts ; and, while they are bringing forth their old things, bring forth 
 your ‘ things new and old,’ — such new things as give spirit to the old, and 
 such old things as give credit to the new.” 
 
 At the Annual Meeting of the Wesleyan Methodist Missionary 
 Society, held in May, the Doctor was present ; and, among other state- 
 ments which he made, he observed, “ This day, for the first time, the 
 thought occurred to my mind, that God, by a particular providence, has 
 intended that London should be the means of sending His salvation to 
 the ends of the earth. Its geographical position on the globe seems to 
 show that Providence has intended it for this work. An intelligent man 
 in Scotland has made a projection of the sphere, taking London as the 
 centre of one of the hemispheres, and has proved, that the position 
 of London, taken as the centre of the hemisphere, and the sphere being 
 projected on the horizon upon that plan, takes in more land of the globe 
 than could be done by any other projection whatever. I have found this 
 to be perfectly correct : taking London, for instance, as the centre, we 
 have the whole continent of Africa, the whole of Europe, the whole 
 continent of Asia, and a portion of America, i!sorth and South, except 
 two or three districts of Patagonia, of very little consideration; the 
 whole of the habitable world then, almost, is taken in, London itself 
 considered as the centre of this hemisphere. Look at the other side, and 
 we find a vast expanse of waters, having scarcely any land among them, 
 except New Holland, some of the Indian Islands, Java, and the Moluccas, 
 New Guinea, &c. ; and these would hardly make one-fifth part ; and I 
 believe, taken in a proportionate aggregate of population, not one- 
 twentieth part of those lands of which London is the centre. Now it 
 appears to me, from looking at this, that God has intended that the word 
 of His grace should go from this place to the ends of the earth. To do 
 God’s work in God’s way, there must be ability, disposition, and means. 
 Now, look at the metropolis of France : it has ability ; it may have the 
 means ; but it has not the disposition. Look at the other chief cities of 
 
PART VI. — SECTION IV. 
 
 219 
 
 Europe : they have, or have had, ability ; they may have the disposition ; 
 but they have little means. If we take poor Madrid, what do we find ? 
 No ability, no disposition, and no means. But look upon London, and 
 here I meet with an ability greater than I can possibly describe ; I was 
 about to speak of it, but it is too much for my mind : and here is dis- 
 position that argues itself to have come directly from heaven. It is not 
 the impulse of a moment ; but a flame burning with a steady light, and 
 shining more and more to the perfect day. Look at our means. These 
 consist in our commerce, and connection with the world ; and we have 
 means to send any thing to all parts of the earth, in consequence of the 
 credit we have gained, and the influence we possess. . . . This morning, 
 another thought occurred to me. We find, that, in all animal bodies, 
 there is a certain commencement of vitality : a microscope will show the 
 part of vibration, or something that will circulate from itself to different 
 members of the body : this is suppposed to be the heart. Now I look 
 upon London to be this point of vitality ; and I look upon the London 
 Missionary Society, the Baptist Missionary Society, and the Church of 
 England Society, and unite them all with the Methodist Missionary 
 Society in one grand body, determined to send forth the empire of God 
 into the world, to destroy the powers of darkness. All are united in one 
 object, directed by one counsel, and tending to one end.” After this 
 meeting, he was importunately pressed to attend the Irish Conference, and 
 to open a chapel at Larne ; but declined, on account of other engage- 
 ments : and yet, amidst more important work, he yielded to the solicita- 
 tions of the editors and publishers of some of the Annuals, to furnish 
 them with lighter matter. 
 
 Christian as was his heart, and philanthropic as w^ere all his views and 
 proceedings, it may be noticed, as one of his peculiarities, that he never 
 lent his services to any of the public meetings for promoting Christianity 
 among the Jews. This, it is presumed, arose partly from the debasing 
 views of their character, as collected from the Sacred Writings, partly 
 from the stubbornness, perversity, and deception practised by them 
 since, and partly from the little success of the Society in its operations 
 compared with its expenditure, together with relapses of its professed 
 converts. 
 
 In the month of June, he visited Stockport, Manchester, &c., and 
 made a collection for Wesley Chapel, Oldham Road ; a place in which he 
 ardently desired to have a chapel long before one was built ; and where, 
 forty years before, he frequently preached out of doors to large 
 crowds of people. The collection amounted, during the morning service, 
 to £104 13s. lOd. 
 
 Some stanzas having been put into his hand by a friend, composed by 
 the biographer, congratulatory of his having finished his Notes on the 
 Bible, and one of them delicately alluding to the treatment he had re- 
 
220 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 ceived from certain quarters, together with the spirit and conduct 
 manifested by him on the occasion, the Doctor wrote as follows : 
 
 “ June 9, 1827. 
 
 “My dear Brother E , — I arrived here from London last 
 
 evening ; — must be in Manchester to-morrow morning ; — and, if God 
 give strength, must return by the mail on Monday morning. Thus, you 
 see, I cannot rest much ; and this, or nearly, has been the case with me 
 for, at least, the six last months. 
 
 “ About seven this morning, Mr. S. put a printed paper into my 
 hand, saying, ‘ I suppose you have seen this ? ’ I looked at it, ‘ Lines 
 addressed to Doctor A. Clarke, on finishing his ^^'otes on the Bible,’ and 
 signed ‘ J. E.’ — I answered, ‘ No, I have never seen it ; nor have I ever 
 heard of it : and yet it was published (by the date) last September.’ 
 That I should not have known till now how much I am indebted to your 
 pen, is strange — for I have long known how much I have been indebted 
 to your friendship, by no equivocal signs. 
 
 “I have gone through dishonour; may be obliged to go through 
 more ; and have behaved myself like a weaned child, and my voice has 
 been little heard in the streets : I could do nothing against the Truth ; 
 but what I could, I have done for the Truth. My record is with God, 
 who knows as well my sincerity and wprightness^ as he knows my luorth- 
 lessness and loeakness : — nor have I ever sought to balance these in order 
 to have the cold consolation, ‘ I stand, if not in the list of merit, yet 
 among the blameless.’ — No. I said to my God — ‘ Thou knowest the way 
 that I take ; I have endeavoured to promote thy glory, by striving to do 
 good to thy creatures, redeemed by the blood of thy Son : — but in these 
 respects, I cannot stand with uncovered face before thee ; and thou 
 knowest that my heart says, more forcibly than my voice can say, — 
 “ God be merciful to me a sinner ! ” ’ Yet, my dear brother E., with all 
 this humiliating cry, I could say, My rejoicing is this, the testimony of 
 my conscience, that in simplicity and godly sincerity, I have had my 
 conversation in the world ; and more abundantly towards my brethren, 
 and the children of my people. 
 
 “Through the good hand of God upon me, the work is done, which 
 you have so kindly celebrated in no mean verse ; — and I may naturally 
 suppose (now fast approaching to the verge of three-score years and ten) 
 that all ray work is nearly done ; and that I can have little more of blame 
 to bear, or praise to receive. God has hitherto sustained me ; and the 
 hearts of the wise and the good have been with me: and my work, 
 without professing to be such, will, I trust, be a lasting and successful 
 vindication of the glorious doctrines of the Gospel maintained and 
 preached by the Methodists. I am, my dear brother, yours very 
 affectionately, — “Adam Clarke.” 
 
PART VI. — SECTION IV. 
 
 221 
 
 During this visit, a friend of the Doctor presented him with two 
 bunches of grapes and a pine-apple, which had been reared in his vinery, 
 and which had gained the prize at the Horticultural Exhibition in 
 Manchester, These, as rarities of their kind, and exceeding anything 
 produced even in the vineries of the nobility,^ were transmitted by the 
 Doctor to his Royal Highness the Duke of Sussex. When the box 
 reached Kensington Palace, His Royal Highness was dressing to go off to 
 dine with his royal brother, the Duke of Clarence, where were assembled 
 all the ministers of state, the foreign ambassadors, and upwards of three 
 hundred of the nobility. As soon as the duke received the Doctor’s note, 
 he gave instant orders that the box should be forwarded to the Admiralty 
 and presented to his brother, the Duke of Clarence. In addition to 
 Mr. Canning, and the new Ministry formed under his direction and 
 influence, the Queen Dowager of Wirtemberg, who was on a visit to 
 England, was present on the occasion. The Doctor complimented his 
 friend on the production of what was denominated, in the acknow- 
 ledgment of the Duke of Sussex to himself — “magnificent fruit,” by 
 saying, “ Never was fruit more highly honoured ; and such a sight, I am 
 satisfied, could not have been exhibited that day^ elsewhere in the king’s 
 dominions : and you find that you had the honour that day of regaling 
 the princes of the blood, and among them, the heir presumptive to the 
 British Crown.” 
 
 Noticing Voltaire one day, he observed, “ He who could neither suffer 
 a rival, nor bear to hear of a God or a Saviour, speaks thus of Milton’s 
 ‘ Paradise Lost : ’ 
 
 ‘ Milton, plus sublime qu’eux, 
 
 A des beautes moins agreables : 
 
 II n’a chants que pour les Fous, 
 
 Pour les Anges, et pour les Diables.’ 
 
 This is a complete sarcasmus, and shows the interior man.” 
 
 To a person who took the liberty of refreshing the Doctor’s memory 
 on a particular subject, but whose impatience, rather than any defect on 
 the Doctor’s part, was to blame, he remarked: — “I write to fulfil a 
 promise, — for an honest man’s word is as good as his oath : as to an oath, 
 he needs none ; his character swears for him. On this ground, I give 
 you one of my country’s proverbs, for I am neither ashamed of it^ nor 
 its language : (giving it in the ancient Irish character :) ‘ What is just 
 is honest ; ’ and, again, ‘What is honest is just.’ Now, having fulfilled my 
 promise, I am, so far, both honest and just. Selah.’’ By rendering the 
 “ promise ” emphatic, he indirectly entered into a justification of his 
 fidelity to truth. 
 
 * Mr. J. W. Clarke inquired of the Secretary of the Horticultural Society whether 
 they had such a fruit, and had for answer, “We never produced one above four 
 pounds.” 
 
222 
 
 ADAM CLAEKE. 
 
 In the autumn of this year, he again visited Lancashire and Cheshire, 
 in company with Mrs. Clarke, when the writer spent a few days with 
 him. On the forenoon of November 18th, he preached in Irwell Street 
 Chapel, Salford, to a crowded coDgregation, and collected upwards of 
 £100, for the first anniversary of the erection. The Wesleyan Magazine 
 for the month, p. 750, containing an article, signed “ A Pioneer,*’ the 
 Doctor directed attention to it, and stated, that he had charged it upon 
 the biographer as the writer, observing, that he was sorry that a pledge 
 had been given in it, to present the valuable collection of Wesleyan 
 papers, which had been made, to the “Depository” in London. As 
 there was no reason why concealment should be maintained, and the 
 charge, though familiarly made, was too direct to admit of a little inno- 
 cent parrying, its authorship was at once confessed. On referring to the 
 persons likely to be connected with the newly- established “ Depository,” 
 the Doctor observed, “ There is not a man among them that has a genuine 
 taste for the antique. I am still in doubt what I should do with my 
 collection. Should you survive me, I shall have no objection for them to 
 fall into your hands ; the two collections should be united.” * Proceeding, 
 “ I have had some thought of depositing Samuel Wesley’s collections for 
 a Polyglott, in the British Museum, for the use of Methodist Preachers.” 
 Returning to the subject, “ I have a great many letters,” said he, “ which 
 you have classified in the ‘ Pioneer ’ as coming under the denomination of 
 the ‘ Dangerous.’ Among these are letters of Charles Wesley to his 
 brother John, which prove him to have been a secret enemy to itinerancy. 
 He laboured hard to prejudice John against many of the preachers. The 
 more I consider his latter history, the more I am persuaded, that it is not 
 worth any man’s while — for any extensive service he was to Methodism, 
 except in the earlier part of his life — to spend three hours in writing a 
 biographical account of him. He was of very little use to the body, 
 except for his Hymns.” The Doctor’s high appreciation of John, of 
 whom he knew more, and with whom he was more familiar, might pos- 
 sibly, imperceptibly, detract a little from the merits of Charles. 
 
 The Zetland voyage being the topic of conversation, the inter- 
 rogatories and curiosity of his friends gave the Doctor ample scope for 
 remark. He intimated his intention to pay the islands another visit, and 
 expressed a hope that the biographer would accompany him. A promise was 
 instantly given, with an intimation that he would be ready as soon as the 
 Doctor should give the signal to weigh anchor. The time proposed was 
 the ensuing summer ; and the embryo plan was, for several friends to 
 form a party — engage a steam-vessel for some weeks, in which all could 
 
 * A considerable portion of the biographer’s collection passed over to the Eev. 
 Luke Tyneman, who was engaged on a work likely to be useful to Wesleyan readers j 
 (see “Methodism as It Is,” pp. 142—145,) and to benefit such was an object agreeable 
 to both. 
 
PART VI. — SECTION IV. 
 
 223 
 
 be accommodated with beds, provision, &c., — the whole contributing their 
 several shares to defray the expenses. 
 
 Two of the sermons which he preached at Lerwick, Zetland, the one 
 June 18, and the other July 2, 1826, were now published in a separate 
 form, the first founded on Colos. i. 27, 28, and the second on Rom. xv. 4; 
 and are to be found in his “ Miscellaneous Works, vols. vi., p. 287 ; 
 and vii., p. 258. A valuable extract from the first of these sermons, on 
 “ Christian Perfection,” was published in the miscellaneous department of 
 the Wesleyan Magazine for the month of December of this year, which 
 furnishes a lucid, scriptural view of that important subject : it is 
 interesting to know the light in which the doctrine was held by him. 
 Referring to this, he observed to a friend, “ Persons who profess to have 
 their hearts cleansed, require the utmost care of the minister : it takes 
 much to establish such as have ventured to claim the fulness of the 
 blessing of the Gospel. My sermon on the ‘ Sum and Substance of 
 St. Paul’s Preaching,’ shows not only the attainableness of the blessing 
 but also the reasonableness of the doctrine : and the grand criterion for 
 those to judge of their state, who profess to be saved from all sin, is, a 
 total absence of all evil tempers and desires : and a continual presence of 
 God. While they feel this, they are safe. If they feel no evil tempers, 
 and a presence of that love that worketh no ill to their neighbour, and a 
 readiness to obey God even unto death, then the love of God is perfected 
 in them. Let them avoid all arguing with gainsayers and Christless 
 Christians ; lest the innocent fervour of their heart should lead them into 
 intemperance of feeling or speech. The evil seed which God has cast out, 
 Satan has got in his hand, and stands ever ready to sow it in again, when 
 he can take advantage of an unguarded moment. Such persons must 
 watch, pray, keep humble, and be constantly employed either in the 
 work of God, or their necessary labour.” 
 
 Two little incidents may be noticed in connection with this visit into 
 Lancashire. He was in a manufacturing district ; and, as prices were 
 low, he deemed it a favourable opportunity for making a few purchases, 
 and soliciting aid for the Zetland mission. Miss Harriet Chappell, now 
 the lady of Edward Westhead, Esq., was one who interested herself on 
 behalf of the poor Shetlanders ; and, among other things, procured for 
 the Doctor several shawls,* “ to clothe,” as he facetiously observed, “his 
 Shetland beauties (or mediocrities) with a decent, respectable, cold- 
 dispelling covering.” Prior to the sermon, just noticed, being preached 
 in Irvvell Street Chapel, Messrs. G. R. Chappell, James Wilde, and 
 others, presented the Doctor also with a handsome contribution for the 
 same Mission ; adding £10 for his travelling expenses. “ The latter,” 
 said the Doctor, who had taken the journey on purpose, which would 
 
 * The Doctor, in spelling- this word, wrote the original Persian — shaul^ deeming, at 
 the same time, each equally correct. 
 
224 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 embrace a distance of nearly 400 miles, “ I must decline to take.” They 
 pressed him again and again ; but still persisting in his refusal, — “ Well, 
 then,” said they, “ you must take it for your Shetlands.” “ That,” he 
 replied, “ I will gladly do.” In consequence of these benefactions two 
 incipient chapels received names ; — “ That,” said the Doctor, “ in the 
 Burra Isle, on the west of Dunrossness, not far from Sombro’ Head, in 
 the south of Zetland, shall be called Irwell Chapel. That in the 
 island of Pappa Stour, on the west of North Mavin, and between that 
 and the island of Foula — the Ultima Thule of the ancients— shall be 
 called Harriet Chapel ; — and both to be so held, taken, and denominated 
 in secula seculorum. Selah.” The biographer had the happiness of being 
 present at the consecration of the latter by the Doctor, the following year, 
 About the same time, he preached in City Koad Chapel, London. 
 “ On leaving the chapel,” said he, “it was raining heavily; and I was 
 disappointed of a coach that had been ordered, as well as unable to pro- 
 cure another. Young Mr. Sundys was with me : the rain was incessant ; 
 and we were compelled to take shelter in the house of a friend, who was 
 personally unknown to me. I was drawn into a conversation on the 
 Zetland Mission, and named the circumstance of two chapels which w^ere 
 wanted, the one expected to be £15 and the other £20. The gentleman 
 of the house addressed his good lady, saying, ‘ What do you think, if you 
 
 and Mrs. , were to go out and solicit subscriptions? You would soon 
 
 collect as much as would build a chapel.’ ” The Doctor continued, “ I 
 entertain a hope, when I reach town, that I shall find the money raised ; 
 and should it be the case, I shall consider my disappointment of the coach, 
 and my being driven into the house, a special Providence.” 
 
 He remarked at this time, to the writer, that he had some intention 
 of publishing his Notes on the Psalms separately, with a new Preface, as 
 a kind of Closet Compai^ion ; but failed in carrying his intention into 
 execution. Dr. Wrangham wrote to him about the same period, with 
 a view to revive the publication of the Polyglott, previously noticed, and 
 proposed to enter at once upon a subscription list, to meet the expenses and 
 accomplish the object. To this Dr. Clarke replied, that the whole business 
 was in too incipient a state to commence a fund — that a Treasurer and 
 Committee of Management should be the first thing ; observing, that 
 when it was before proposed, Mr. Pratt had to bear the sole expense of 
 the folio prospectus, and he himself had to sustain that of the octavo, 
 without the least aid from any quarter. On this Dr. Wrangham pro- 
 posed a circular ; which was met by Dr. Clarke with the experience of 
 the past ; stating, as he had done before, that Dr. Williams, of Bother- 
 ham, had proposed to give £30 per annum, for a term of seven years ; 
 Messrs. Joseph Butterworth and Bobert Spear, Esquires, £50 each for 
 the same period ; and also others : concluding, that, if a Begium Donum, 
 or a parliamentary grant, could not be obtained, they would have to 
 
PART VI. — SECTION IV. 
 
 25 
 
 depend entirely upon the opulent, who would have to be appealed to by a 
 regular organised Committee of Management. In his own project, he 
 was anxious that the Church of England should take the lead. 
 
 Though the commencement of 1828 found Dr. Clarke in his usual 
 health and spirits, with the exception of a tenderness in reference to 
 night air exposure ; the spring of the year was less auspicious. In the 
 month of April, he was pressed to preach in Bristol, and obeyed the call 
 of the friends. “ That sermon,” said a gentleman to Mr. Exley, after 
 the service, “ must have cost the Doctor a great deal of labour.” On 
 Mr. Exley noticing the remark, the Doctor replied, “ It cost me just half- 
 an-hour.” He always acted on his advice to Mr. Smith; he spoke from 
 his own knowledge and experience of the subject. Mr. Exley having 
 placed the Preface of his treatise on “ The Principles of Natural Philo- 
 sophy ” in the hand of the Doctor, to look over, and to correct ; the 
 latter, on returning it, without a single correction, pleasantly asked, 
 ‘‘Tommy, did you write the whole of that Preface yourself?” On 
 Mr. E. replying in the affirmative, the Doctor said, “ I did not think that 
 a person so busily employed with teaching, could have done it so well.” 
 The work was reviewed by the Doctor, in the Literary Gazette^ who sup- 
 ported Mr. E. in some positions against which objections were taken ; as 
 will be seen in his “ Miscellaneous Works,” vol. x., p. 388. Mr. Exley’s 
 “ New Theory of Physics,” as previously noticed, did not profess to be 
 founded on new principles, but on one universally acknowledged — that of 
 gravitation ; and applied by him, after a new manner, to explain the 
 general properties of matter, the phenomena of chemistry, electricity, 
 galvanism, and electro- magnetism. Of the intellectual power of his 
 brother-in-law, the Doctor had a high opinion. Alas ! in the midst of the 
 enjoyment of his friends, the Doctor was visited with a rheumatic fever, 
 which not only prevented a journey into Cornwall, but detained him 
 some time in Bristol. 
 
 On his return home, he had considerable correspondence with his 
 friend, relative to the second Shetland voyage ; and matters were in a 
 gradual course of preparation. 
 
 Speaking one day of Dr. John Dee’s “Delation of Spirits,” he re- 
 marked, that he had occasion to write to the Privy Council upon it, 
 furnishing an example in which it ought to be deciphered, and giving it 
 as a very probable opinion, that the old Warden of Manchester employed 
 his cipher merely as language in which he communicated with the Court 
 of Elizabeth. On borrowing a book of an old preacher, which he wished 
 to consult, he felt not a little touched at being cautioned against 
 “ doubling down the leaves, soiling it, and making pencil marks in the 
 margin.” From the ungracious manner in which it was lent, he would 
 have at once declined it, if he could either have purchased a copy, or 
 borrowed one anywhere else. No man was more careful of books, and 
 
 VOL. II. P 
 
226 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 few less in the habit of borrowing : he went, indeed, to the opposite ex-^ 
 treme, and would have purchased for the privilege of a mere reference. 
 He was in want of an old work on Coins, and gave his bookseller, Mr. 
 Baynes, directions to buy it for him, and go to the extent of £25. Walk- 
 ing, however, in one of the back streets of the metropolis, he was overtaken 
 by a shower of rain, when he stepped into a second-hand book-shop — ^ 
 looked round — saw the work he had commissioned Mr. B. to purchase — 
 and obtained it for a mere trifle : he literally sprang out of the shop on 
 paying for the work, and went home in triumph. 
 
 The Rev. Alexander Strachan complimenting his countrymen on the 
 other side of the Tweed, made a remark on character: just at that 
 moment, a slight touch of Johnson’s provoking spirit came over the 
 Doctor, — “I preached one of my best sermons,” said he, ‘‘ in Edinbro’ ; a 
 sermon enough to alarm all hell, and almost enough to convert the devil, 
 and yet not a muscle was moved on a single human face.” On another 
 occasion, he observed, — “ The Irish can ~keep nothing ; the Scotch will 
 give nothing, but what they cannot help ; and the English unite the 
 excellences of both ; for of what they get they can both give and keep. I 
 do not wish to depreciate the character of the Scotch, for there are 
 glorious exceptions : but I have no sympathy with the spirit that will 
 lead a man to sit down and calculate on the interest and principle of the 
 hundredth part of the fraction of a farthing, with its returns for a 
 thousand years to come.” A preacher passing him in the aisle of one of 
 our chapels, he put his hand on his shoulder, and said, “ You would not 
 have put your hat on in my house ; ” leaving the reproof to perform its 
 proper work : it was instantly comprehended and felt ; and the hat, ever 
 after, was reverently held in the hand, till passing the threshhold of the 
 house of God. 
 
 On Saturday, June 14, at seven o’clock in the morning, the Doctor 
 left London in a steam vessel for Hull, at which port he arrived about 
 five o’clock on the Sunday evening, in company with his second son, and 
 one of the preachers. His object was to try the effect of sea- water, pre- 
 viously to his embarking for Shetland. The wind was against them ; 
 and, in consequence of the motion of the vessel, he was unable to bear 
 up the whole of the Sabbath. Not wishing, however, the whole of the 
 day to pass over without Divine service, he requested the captain to allow 
 Mr. L. to preach, who readily consented. About sixty persons were 
 present ; among whom was a naval officer and his bride, the latter of 
 whom, while the Doctor prayed, and Mr. Loutit preached, evidently 
 entered into the spirit of the service. Mr. and Mrs. Rigg being then in 
 Hull, and having heard that the Doctor was there, waited upon him at 
 the inn. He reached Whitby on the Monday by coach, at which place 
 the biographer, with two other friends, had arrived from Manchester, 
 and were waiting to join him in the projected voyage. The Doctor, 
 
PAKT VI. — SECTION IV. 
 
 227 
 
 on meeting with his old antagonist, the Eev. Kichard Watson, just 
 before he left London, and seeing the delicate state of his health, 
 said, with blandness of feeling, and under an impression that the voyage 
 might be beneficial to him, — “Write all your complaints on a piece 
 of paper, — go with me and lay it on the deck, — and I will pledge 
 myself, that they will all either be washed or blown away before your 
 return.” 
 
 A person resident about forty miles from Whitby, having a great 
 desire to see the Doctor, and being disappointed in the first instance, had 
 paced the ground twice over to gratify his wish. Being told this by a 
 friend, in a somewhat complimentary way, the Doctor turned it off with — 
 “ It is a pity he should have stooped so low to take up so little.” The 
 Abbey, the Museum, and other places of interest were visited. He repro- 
 bated its proprietor as a Goth, for permitting the noble structure to go to 
 ruin. The biographer having observed, that it, Tynemouth Priory, &c., 
 were exceptions to the situations of abbeys in general, the monks chiefly 
 selecting a fruitful vale, in the neighbourhood of a stream of water, not 
 forgetting the seclusion necessary for safety and for acts of devotion, he 
 observed, — “There is probably a reason for such exceptions ; for though 
 there might be no rich lands attached to them, they might be connected 
 with cells, &c., on the opposite coasts, as Norway and other countries, in 
 the same way as establishments there were connected with rich cells in 
 England : or they might be connected, in some other way, at home or 
 abroad, with ecclesiastical revenues and institutions ; and elevated on those 
 promontories, as a guide to both voyagers and travellers :” adding, “ one 
 of the preachers in Shetland, having had land offered to him by the pro- 
 prietor, for the erection of a chapel, monk-like, took care to select a piece 
 of the best; an act of which, after so much generosity, I could not 
 approve.” On passing the house in which Captain Cook was apprenticed, 
 the Doctor paused ; and then, moving slowly on — with the party before 
 him, with one exception — he sidled nearer and nearer to it, supposing no 
 one perceived him, and touched the building with his hand. While the 
 writer, who was in the rear, could not suppress a smile, it was difficult 
 not to venerate the feeling, which, even in little things, prompted him to 
 render his tribute of homage to genius and enterprise — to the poor boy, 
 who, while apprenticed there, was destined, by the providence of God, to 
 wrap his navigator’s girdle round the globe, and to become the pioneer of 
 Christian Missionaries, who succeeded him in many of his discoveries, 
 and so planted the standard of the cross, where erst he had waved the flag 
 of his native soil. 
 
 Wednesday, the 18th, the party, — consisting of the Doctor; his 
 second son, Theoderet ; Mr. J. Campion, of Whitby; Mr. W. Read, of 
 Manchester ; Mr. J. Smith ; and the biographer, — were towed out of the 
 harbour by three boats, aboard the Henry ^ of Whitby — a smack of about 
 
 p 2 
 
228 
 
 ADAM CLARKE, 
 
 seventy tons. As there is a tolerably circumstantial account of this 
 voyage, as well as the one in 1826, in the Doctor’s ‘‘Miscellaneous 
 Works,” vol. xiii., pp. 358 — 393, it is the less necessary here to enter into 
 detail ; especially as many of the conversations, and much of the informa- 
 tion communicated, connected with early life, and with literary and 
 religious historj?-, will be found in different parts of the Memoir, at the 
 different periods referred to, associated with the several facts and persons 
 noticed.^ As to the scenery, and other particulars connected with the 
 
 * The reader, by consulting the ‘‘Preface’* to the 13th volume of Dr. Clarke’s “ Mis 
 cellaneous Works,” will find that the biographer had preserved a Journal of the con- 
 versations, incidents, &c., of this voyage ; together with observations on the scenery, 
 climate, manners, customs, &c., of the inhabitants. This Journal was known to the 
 Doctor, and its contents sought, to aid him in writing a “ History of the Zetland Isles.” 
 In a letter just after the writer’s visit to the Islands, dated August 13, 1828, the Doctor 
 writes, — “Dear Everett, I see plainly, that I must publish some account, however 
 short, of the Zetland Isles. I know you have taken many mental views of those Isles 
 and their inhabitants. I have no lively conceptions ; and mine will make, I am afraid, 
 but a dull narrative, if , published as I wrote in my Journal. Will you lend me some of 
 your lively descriptions on, or concerning any place, or every place ? You cannot send 
 amiss. And as to plates, if we can get them done, I believe, taken from your views, they 
 will be highly acceptable.” Before the close of the month of October, in the same year, 
 the writer got ten plates engraved by Fothergill of Manchester, from the various 
 sketches which he had taken, and from one of which one of the illustrations accompany 
 the Doctor’s “Miscellaneous Works,” viz.; — that of Lerwick, Zetland, was copied — 
 taken just as the Henrtj” was leaving the sound. These plates, with several im- 
 pressions, were forwarded to the Doctor, who expressed his satisfaction with them. On 
 the writer forwarding the promised extracts from his Journal, the Doctor again wrote, 
 on the reception of the first part : — “ Dear Everett, I have been up early this morning, 
 and have begun with your extracts,— and have got a hearty, though silent laugh, till 
 the tears flowed with your Phiz — ^iz — iz — izing. You should have made, and you must 
 still make, an Introduction, stating something relative to the voyage, the persons, its 
 objects, &c., &c.” The passage here referred to, may be more distinctly noticed, for 
 the double purpose — of first, furnishing a more enlarged view of the Doctor’s original 
 plan, with a specimen of the material he intended to work into it ; and, secondly, by 
 way of showing, that— however much opposed he might be to the publication of his 
 Conversations by a person who “ died before” himself, agreeably to the testimony of 
 his son, in the Life published by part of the family. Preface, p. vi., vol. i., — ^he was not 
 so quite averse to the subject when it proceeded from a person in whom he could 
 confide, and could even “ laugh till the tears flowed” at some of his own sayings, when 
 they unexpectedly though sparingly turned up before him, in the more descriptive 
 portions of the Journal forwarded. The scene took place, Friday June 20th, on board 
 the Henry. 
 
 “We had all witnessed many a setting sun in our native isle, and had gazed with 
 delight on the western hills which his parting beams were gilding, and ‘ the paradise of 
 clouds ’ with which he was surrounded. A setting sun on the ocean, though beheld by 
 some of the company, was still desired, because much more rare. No one, perhaps, 
 though seen when voyaging in another direction, was more anxious for this than my- 
 self : and a disappointment two successive evenings only contributed to impart a keener 
 edge to desire. On one occasion, I observed, as evening api>roached, ‘We shall have a 
 beautiful sun-set to-night.* ‘ Not so,’ replied the Doctor ; then, pointing to the clouds, 
 added, ‘There is a bank of stratus in the way.’ Kesuming the subject, when the orb 
 had reached nearer the horizon, another repulse was experienced from the same 
 quarter. On directing the eye to the north, though still at no g^eat distance from the 
 the sun,— ‘ Yonder,’ said the Doctor, ‘is the appearance of thunder; several of the 
 
PART VI. — SECTION IV. 
 
 229 
 
 manners and customs of the inhabitants, the mineral and vegetable pro- 
 ductions of the Islands, &c., these must remain untouched. There was a 
 peculiarity in the whole. With the eye and genius of Michael Drayton, 
 who is considered by the best judges, to be almost unequalled for the 
 vigour and vividness displayed in some of his delineations of natural 
 
 cloads have a great deal of sullen purple in them.* We had looked hut a short time, 
 when another unfavourable sign made its appearance. Turning to the Captain, the 
 Doctor asked in a tone corresponding with the somewhat singular expression employed, 
 ‘What is the hatful of rainbow a sign of, which has just become visible ?’ ‘Of rain. 
 Sir,* replied the Captain. ‘I thought so,’ rejoined the Doctor j ‘ we were accustomed, 
 when I was a boy, to call them weather galls."' The effect of this was such, as to furnish 
 the idea of a rainbow concealed behind the clouds, a small portion of which was 
 revealed to the eye through a partial opening in the revolving shadows in the fore- 
 ground; or like a rainbow under an eclipse, without the eclipse being total. All the 
 prismatic colours were languidly visible, but wanting in vividness in the general hue. 
 Contrary, however, to several unfavourable indications, all of which might have pro- 
 duced the effects of which they are the usual forerunners, in a more distant part of the 
 hemisphere, the heavens, in process of time, resumed a more lovely aspect, and 
 between nine and ten o’clock, in the language of Southey, in his Madoc — one of his 
 finest poems — 
 
 ‘ Bright with dilated glory shone the west ; 
 
 But brighter lay the ocean flood below. 
 
 The burnish’d silver sea, that heav’d and hash’d 
 In restless rays intolerably bright.’ 
 
 As the orb approached the horizon, it became more and more spherical, till it disap- 
 peared ‘to dawn in glory ’ on other scenes. Just as it was setting, the Doctor adverted 
 to some of the notions of the ancients, as embodied in the works of their poets : as 
 Virgil, in his Georgies, 1, 246, who mentions tbe bears, as afraid to dip themselves in 
 the waters of the ocean, being a poetical definition of the fixed stars never setting among* 
 the constellations of the frigid zone, — 
 
 ‘ Arctos Oceani metuentes aquore tingi.’ 
 
 Passing from these to the sun, he next cited the passage in which Virgil, appealing to 
 the Muses for instruction in astronomy, prays, among other things, that they would 
 teach him why the winter suns — or sun in the winter season — make so much haste to 
 dip themselves in the ocean ; or, in other words, why the days are shorter than in 
 summer , — 
 
 ‘ Quid tantum Oceano properent si tingere soles 
 Hyberni.’ 
 
 After this, the Doctor took up another notion indulged by the ancients respecting the 
 setting of the sun in the Atlantic Ocean, in which they represented it accompanied 
 with noise, as if the sea were hissing, on which night immediately followed; when in 
 unusually playful mood, while seated with his face towards the west, he said, — ‘ The 
 sun goes down — dips into the ocean, — and cries Fizz !’ The last word, on which the 
 humour turned, was lengthened in the pronunciation — particularly the last letter, and 
 lowered towards the close — giving tbe notion of a red-hot hall dropping into the water, 
 and producing all the noise and boiling foam which heated iron occasions, when brought; 
 into contact with the opposing element, till the fire is quenched and the effects gradually 
 die away. It had the effect of a farce at the close of a splendid dramatic representation ; 
 and such strokes of humour were occasionally indulged with a view to relieve the 
 muscles of the faces of some of his companions, not unfrequently screwed into an un- 
 natural form by sickness.” 
 
 Montgomery, in his “Climbing Boy’s Album,” p. 415, has a poetic expression, which 
 pairs with the Doctor’s prose— “Bits of rainbow.’* 
 
230 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 objects, and the emotions arising from them, much might have been 
 effected as to the pictorial. In preaching at the different stations, and 
 passing from island to island, till the whole group was circumnavigated, 
 several circumstances made a more than ordinary impression upon the 
 mind, 
 
 July the 6th, being the Sabbath, while safely anchored in Balta- 
 Sound, the party agreed to cross the high hills, mostly composed of 
 serpentine rock, and with but little vegetable soil upon them, to refresh 
 the eye, and there to keep holy- day with the inhabitants ; the biographer 
 preaching to the people at Haroldswick, and the Doctor to those at 
 Nortwick, about lat. 61° 1ST., and but a short distance from each other ; 
 the former being a little N.W. of the latter. The peculiarity of this 
 visit was,- — first, the two preachers stood on the most northern ground 
 under the British crown, and on the most northern inhabited part of the 
 ground. Secondly, on the line of direction in which they then stood, 
 which was nearly due north, there was neither land nor inhabitant to the 
 north pole. Thirdly, in nearly a direct line east, they had Bergen on 
 their right hand ; and further on, north, Spitsbergen ; on their left, west, 
 were the Faroe Isles ; and onward, north-west, Iceland ; and then old 
 G-reenland. Between these, from Lamba Iless, the uttermost point north 
 of the island of Unst, not one foot of land, nor consequently one human 
 inhabitant was to be found on to the north pole ; so that the biographer 
 and the subject of the memoir, were literally preaching on one of the, 
 ends of the earthf beyond which, in that direction, the sound of the 
 Gospel can never be heard : a circumstance in the personal history of the 
 Doctor, which he characterised as the highest honour of his life, having 
 been permitted to preach Christ crucified to the inhabitants of the very 
 ends of the earth 1 
 
 On the evening of the same day, the Doctor being worn out with 
 fatigue, the biographer preached in the open air, at the bottom of Mr. 
 Edmondston’s garden — the house being unable to contain the people — 
 close by a monument reared by the family, in memory of M. Biot’s visit, 
 the French philosopher, who had there fixed his great pendulum and other 
 instruments, and carried on his experiments for the space of two 
 months: an account of these experiments is to be found in his work, 
 entitled Notices sur les Voyages Enterpris pour Mesurer la Courbure de 
 la Terre.” 
 
 Though highly delighted with the bold, varied, romantic scenery, in 
 the earlier part of the voyage, it was in many respects inferior to what 
 was beheld on weathering the Scaw of Unst, and sailing down the 
 western coast for Papa-Stour; the beautiful collection of rocks called 
 Ramna’s Stacks, Rona’s Hill, (the highest in Shetland, and said to be 
 between two and three thousand feet above the level of the sea,) Ossa- 
 Skerry, the Ve-Skerries, Foula, with its eminences, all intermingled with 
 
PART VI. — SECTION IV. 
 
 231 
 
 spacious voes and bays — ^promontories — rocks of every variety of form 
 and size— caves — stupendous arches — with small hamlets peering between 
 the hills, and sloping down to the tops of the rocks, presenting the 
 variety of black, red, blue, grey — all passing in panoramic grandeur, as 
 the vessel, like a thing of life, shot its way through the waves — with 
 here and there a few straggling whales rising to the surface, and spouting, 
 as from a powerful jet, the water from within — presented at once a scene 
 of the most lively interest. 
 
 On the 29th of June, a chapel was opened at Burravoe, South Yell ; 
 and at Papa-Stour another was consecrated in July. While here, the 
 Doctor preached in the Kirk ; during which service the writer sat by the 
 side of the brother of an English nobleman, Lord Belcarress, who had 
 been confined in the island some years, and who afterwards made his 
 escape to his native land, through the intervention of a friend ; a case 
 which made considerable newspaper noise. But July the 11th was one 
 of the most memorable days, when the party landed on the island of 
 Foula, supposed by many to be the ultima Thule of the ancients, or 
 utmost land to the North Pole. Ground was given on which to erect a 
 chapel, by Mr. Scott, of Paila. After proceeding about a mile up the 
 mountain, the party halted. A spade was obtained, and the soil was 
 dug away, till a rocky bottom was obtained ; and having procured a large 
 stone, with a good angle, three verses of the hymn — “ Except the Lord 
 conduct the plan,” &c., were sung. The Doctor then laid the stone, 
 after which he knelt on the place and prayed. The whole of this scene 
 was solemn, imposing, and picturesque : — a few adventurers, in appear- 
 ance, leaving the vessel, going on shore, and taking possession of a 
 portion of the island in the name of its Maker ! The writer still 
 retained the spade in his hand, while the Doctor was engaged in the 
 consecration prayer; and the latter being unable to balance himself 
 properly in a kneeling position, grasped the middle of the shaft of the 
 implement, while the hands and chest of the digger pressed upon the top 
 of the handle, to give stability to it. There the group stood, or knelt 
 around the venerable apostle, and responded to the petitions which were 
 offered to Heaven ; themselves, with the exception only of two others, 
 constituting the auditory, — the people not having been apprized of the 
 arrival of the party. 
 
 The Doctor, in the course of the Voyage, frequently sung what he 
 called his “ French Sea Hymns^'^' commencing with, — 
 
 “ Sur I’ocean du monde 
 Pisqu’ il faut tous voguer,” &c. 
 
 And also, a short Persian gazel or ode, full of beauty, tenderness, and 
 devotion, forming the first sentence of one of his Persian MSS., entitled, 
 Roozetal Shuhada ^^^ — The flower-garden of the Martyrs. 
 
 Another circumstance may be noticed. When the Doctor was 
 
282 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 looking for a suitable plot of ground for a chapel, he said to a plain man, 
 “This line ascertains the possessions of Mr. Edmondston from those of 
 some other heritor.” The Shetlander answered, “ This was some time 
 ago the property of Mr. Mouat, but he escamhion^d it to Mr. Edmondston, 
 for some of his property in another place.” The Doctor was surprised to 
 hear the word from a simple peasant, an inhabitant of the North Seas, as 
 he knew, as he afterwards observed, that scamlium and scamhatw were 
 good Latin words, used in the Middle Ages, to signify change or exchange 
 of lands ; one portion to be given for another ; nor had he ever met with 
 the word before, except in Ancient Charters. He was as much surprised 
 as a Greek peasant was, when Captain Thompson of Hull, who was 
 travelling in one of the Greek Islands, addressed a question in Greek to 
 one of the natives ; the man started ; and exclaimed, 0au fiag ov vavrrjg 
 BperawLKor eXXrjvun (j)pa^€L / — “ Wonderful ! an English sailor speaks 
 Greek !” 
 
 SECTION Y. 
 
 1828 . 
 
 On the Doctor’s return to England, he was soon in full employment in 
 his study, in his regular pulpit labours, and in preaching occasional 
 sermons. Some of his extra work lay at Chelsea, Stafford, Bruerton, 
 Loughborough, and Manchester ; at the former place, he collected £88 
 for the chapel ; and at the latter, £1 50 for the schools, which removed a 
 heavy debt. He had preached on the Friday evening, Saturday evening, 
 Sunday and Wednesday previously to his occupying the pulpit at Man- 
 chester, and was unusually indisposed through constipation of the bowels. 
 He entered minutely into his case to the writer, and stated, if some 
 change did not take place, it would terminate seriously. He then pro- 
 ceeded : “ I had a dream before I left home, and now that I am so much 
 indisposed, I regret that I named it to Mrs. Clarke. It has made a 
 powerful impression on my mind, since the issue of this affliction. I 
 made this journey a matter of earnest prayer, that I might be carried 
 through it. I have as much resolution and fortitude as I ever had ; but 
 I find my physical strength failing. I am no great dreamer ; nor do I 
 pay much attention to such things : months pass away without my having 
 any distinct knowledge of having dreamt. But one evening, before I 
 left home, I had the singular dream to which I have referred. I dreamt 
 that I had to be offered a sacrifice to God, — that I was to shed the last 
 drop of my blood — and that the aperture from which the blood was to 
 
PAET VI. — SECTI02^ V. 
 
 233 
 
 flow, was to be through an incision made in the neck by a dagger. I 
 thought I shrunk a little at first from the pain that was occasioned by 
 the incision : nevertheless, as it was God who required my blood-^the 
 blood which he himself had given — and the sacrifice was necessary, I 
 would freely offer myself to Him. It appeared to me, that I was two 
 distinct persons, — as though the inward Adam (pointing to himself) 
 remained Acre, looking at the outioard Adam laid tliere^ whom I thought 
 I saw distinctly. It is common, as you well know, for persons to be 
 transported in their dreams from place to place ; but I have no recol- 
 lection of an instance in which a person supposed himself two. The place 
 where the one stood, was a field, or open space, where some roads crossed ; 
 one a kind of main way for carts, at the side of which was a footpath 
 or two, worn down by the feet. In this path, thus worn down, I thought 
 I saw myself; or, perhaps, more properly, my other self, stretched at 
 full length. I saw the incision made — felt no pain — the blood streamed 
 forth : after it ceased to issue from the wound, some water was brought — 
 the abdomen was laid open — and pure water was laved in to wash away 
 the last globule of blood. I still stood, and thought I saw the water 
 recede less and less red — ^till all was pure, with a firm persuasion that it 
 was myself ; and stood looking on with firmness and composure, till I 
 concluded the sacrifice was complete, — when I awoke about three o’clock 
 in the morning. On turning myself in bed, I awoke Mrs. Clarke, and 
 said, ‘ Mary, I have had a singular dream.’ She wished me to go to 
 sleep again ; but I could not, and so related the dream to her. It has 
 followed me ever since: nor can I interpret it. As I have observed, I 
 pay very little attention to such things : there may, however, be some- 
 thing in it : I have been very poorly ; but whether it is to be interpreted 
 from the circumstance of my having made these engagements, to fulfil 
 them as a work of God — though without full strength, and God is 
 pleased to accept it as a sacrifice, through which l am to be wasted away 
 in it, like gradual weakness, through loss of blood, — or whether, indeed, 
 anything is to follow to explain it, — or whether it is without any per- 
 sonal connection, I know not : but still it follows me, and I wish you to 
 make a memorandum of it — to preserve it among your papers— and keep 
 your eye upon it for a key. I trust I shall be able to complete my 
 engagements. If the dream is without indication, it will still be a curious 
 circumstance of a person conceiving himself to be two distinct conscious 
 beings — seeing himself at a distance, and conscious of a presence from it.” 
 Were it right to anticipate, and if it had a meaning, the key would be 
 much better employed at a future period than on the present occasion, — 
 in a more remote death — in an internal malady — worn out — perfectly 
 sensible — yet helpless — a short struggle — and little pain. 
 
 On the Leeds question — conversation having turned in that direction — 
 the Doctor was very strong, and generally opposed both to the pro- 
 
234 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 ceediDgs and decision on the case ; stating, that not all the powers on 
 earth could convince him of the propriety of the measures adopted by 
 the president, secretary, Messrs. J. Stephens and Dr. Bunting, and 
 others, on the occasion. His arguments are here omitted to prevent 
 a revival of the painful feeling attendant on the division. He had, in 
 fact, written an article on the case ; but was dissuaded from publishing 
 till after Conference, and then, for the sake of peace, declined employing 
 the press at all. 
 
 “ The Traveller’s Prayer,” the origin of which has been noticed, was 
 now published, and excited considerable attention. He received compli- 
 mentary letters from the Bishops of London, Litchfield, and Coventry ; 
 Herbert Marsh, and other dignitaries of the Church of England, on the 
 occasion ; * the latter observing, that, though he had long been accus- 
 tomed to read, study, and admire the Church Service, he had, in his 
 writings, pointed out beauties in it which he never saw before. He 
 visited the Bishop of London, Dr. Blomfield, by invitation, and had a 
 general invitation from his lordship to call upon him at Fulham, whenever 
 he could make it convenient. The conversation was frank and general. 
 On leaving the palace, his lordship, who accompanied him to the door, 
 said to him, while standing on the stairs, (quoting the original,) “ Seeing 
 that you are such a man, (so much in our interest, and so truly our 
 friend,) I wish you were altogether our own.” The Doctor thought the 
 quotation was from Terence, but could not recollect for the moment. He 
 remarked afterwards, when adverting to the circumstance, that Mait- 
 taire’s work was the best for finding any important sentence in classic 
 authors, when the originals were not at hand, or there was no time to 
 consult them. It was a somewhat singular coincidence, that a clergyman, 
 closely connected with the Archbishop of Canterbury, should, in a com- 
 plimentary letter to the Doctor, have quoted the same Latin sentence, 
 without the least possibility of his having become acquainted with the 
 Bishop of London’s address. In one of the letters received, it was 
 stated, — “ Your countenance, Dr. Clarke, of the Church of England, is 
 of great importance to us.” He remarked, afterwards, on this also, with 
 a touch of the jocose, — “ I was not quite aware of the extent of my love 
 to the Church on some subjects, till I was informed of it, for there are 
 several things which I should wish to see altered : ” further stating, 
 “there is a sorry set of ministers creeping into the Established Church, 
 greatly to its injury. The livings of the New Government Churches are 
 mostly in the gift of the vicars and rectors, and they introduce men like 
 themselves.” Sheffield and Hull were noticed as exceptions by the writer. 
 Again adverting to his interview with Dr. Blomfield, and as if afraid of 
 losing his character for independence and disinterestedness, by the 
 
 * Fifty copies of this discourse were printed on fine paper, to present to the bishops 
 and principal clergy. 
 
PART VI. — SECTION V. 
 
 235 
 
 remotest imputation of mixed motives, he pleasantiy said, Yes, I have 
 been with the bishop, but it w^as not for my son, recollect ; I shall not 
 ask, in this way, a favour at any man’s hand : but I shall have to go 
 again ; for I find that his lordship has been misled on the subject of 
 Methodism, by Mr. Robinson, of Beverley.” 
 
 On another occasion, he was drawn into a more minute account of his 
 first interview with his lordship, who complained of the excess of business 
 he had on hand, and stated, with a degree of painful feeling, that his 
 days of reading and study were over. Dr. Clarke observed, that more 
 might devolve upon his lordship at that particular time than any other, 
 in consequence of what might have been unavoidably left undone by his 
 predecessor. His lordship intimated, that it was not so much in conse- 
 quence of anything omitted by his learned predecessor, who had done 
 everything that could reasonably be expected, as owing to the circum- 
 stance of his having entered upon the diocese with a resolution to visit 
 every part of it, and that such was the state of ofiice that he was com- 
 pelled to give up his study. Dr. Clarke observed, that he considered the 
 first thirty years of a student and man of learning, as an apprenticeship, 
 during which he had to learn his trade, and after which he might be 
 deemed as free, — commencing for himself amidst the bustle of life ; — 
 living on past principles, which made him a proficient in whatsoever 
 employment he might engage: adding, “ 'Nor is it necessary that he 
 should be always learning the art.” This embodied a fine-turned com- 
 pliment to the bishop, delicately hinting, that his past labours fully 
 qualified him for the sphere in which he moved, and for the discharge of 
 any duty that might devolve upon him in his official capacity. His 
 lordship still dwelt upon the weight of his charge. The Doctor, with 
 equal adroitness and delicacy availed himself of the remark to intimate 
 that he might at that moment be encroaching upon his lordship’s valuable 
 time ; who observed, that he did not intend his remark to be taken in that 
 light ; — that he was exceedingly glad to see him, and should be happy to 
 receive him at any time. On the Doctor leaving, his lordship, as just 
 stated, accompanied him to the door, and taking his hand, addressed him 
 in the language cited above, which was afterwards repeated by the Arch- 
 deacon of Cleveland. 
 
 He published this year also his first volume of Sermons, which was 
 followed by a second in 1829, and a third in 1830. In these Sermons, it 
 is sufficient to say, that we have an exemplification of the way in which 
 he rendered the whple of his reading and observation, as in his Com- 
 mentary, subservient to the work of the Christian ministry ; and that the 
 cordial mannel* in which they were received by the public, was highly 
 creditable to their author. Like all his other writings, they have a 
 character of their own, and are perfectly distinct in their handling from 
 the generally published discourses of the day. Waiving everything in 
 
236 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 the shape of laboured criticism on them, the present seems to be a fitting 
 opportunity for adverting to one particular topic. In the first edition of 
 vol. i., p. 147, the Doctor, when speaking of Novelists^ whose “ plans” he 
 considered as the sickly abortions of paralysed intellect,” — “ the execu- 
 tion as fantastic and preposterous,” and “the issue as dangerous, often 
 destructive, and generally ruinous ; ” he includes among “ honourable 
 exceptions,” Henry Brook, Samuel Bichardson, and Walter Scott in 
 reference to whom he observes, — “ The first leads you directly to God — 
 the fountain of life, perfection, and goodness. The second conducts you 
 through many direct roads and fairy bye-paths to virtue and propriety of 
 conduct in the various relations of life. And the latter carries you 
 through Nature and facts to the sources whence history should originate ; 
 and raises up not only the recollections of past events, but places you by 
 inimitable description in the midst of generations that have long since 
 ceased to exist, whom, in your presence, he causes to transact all the 
 avocations of their respective situations in life, and to exhibit all the 
 peculiarities of the manners and customs of their times, with the whole 
 train of thinking and feeling which gave them birth. Such writers as 
 these, shall have, from posterity at least, their just meed of praise ; and 
 of the general tenor of these loorks their authors need never be ashamed. 
 
 The insertion of this occasioned him some regret afterwards, from the 
 circumstance of having learned that his “ opinion had been abused.” He 
 signified his intention, therefore, of either qualifying his observations, or 
 of omitting the passage entirely, in case of a second edition. He observed 
 further, that he himself had beeu deceived in the novels of Sir Walter. 
 “ I admired his genius,” said he, “ and, from his historical knowledge, 
 concluded, without immediately referring to the distinct periods of 
 history, that the whole of his novels were founded in fact ; making, at 
 the same time, every allowance for embellishment : but, on looking more 
 closely into the subject, I found such a mixture of fiction running through 
 the whole, that I ceased to trust him anywhere. Being denominated 
 ‘ Historical Novels,’ I expected, on reading them, to find their founda- 
 tion in English history ; but, on being disappointed in this, they fell in 
 my esteem, like the millstone, from the hand of the angel, into the depths 
 of the sea. He has a small portion of fact ; — Nature, fiction, and art, are 
 all at work : Nature supplies the fact, fiction surrounds it with airy 
 beings, and art interweaves the whole, and forms a tale of it.” Dr. 
 
 E , who w^as present on the occasion, subjoined, “ We ought to read 
 
 them as we read ‘Don Quixote.’ ” This last remark was objected to by 
 the biographer, from the fact, that we know what credit to attach to the 
 Spaniard, whose work, on Scott’s own showing, can only be understood 
 by reference to the Spanish romances ; whereas the latter comes forward 
 under other pretensions, as making his appeal to history. Dr. Clarke 
 was still more at variance with his first opinion and impression after- 
 
PART VI. — SECTION 
 
 237 
 
 wards. On passing through Manchester the last month of his life, from 
 the Liverpool Conference, in calling on the biographer, he observed, on 
 seeing a new work lying before him, — “ On leaving Liverpool, I took up, 
 in the house of a friend, the forty-first volume of a new uniform edition 
 of the Waverley Novels. Scott is now near the close of his days : when 
 I look at such a man, and see him devote a whole life in the support of a 
 fiction, reared on the base of a small historical fact, I can scarcely help 
 concluding, that truth must have lost influence on the mind of such a 
 man.” This was little more than three weeks before the Doctor ex- 
 changed worlds. Sir Walter died about three weeks after. Happily, 
 Sir Walter himself found where he was, when, as life was ebbing out, he 
 addressed Lochart, his son-in-law, “ Be a good man — be virtuous — be 
 religious — nothing else will give you any comfort when you come to lie 
 
 here.” Dr. E , in the earlier part of the conversation referred to, 
 
 observed, “ ‘ The Life of Napoleon ’ is the worst work, as a composition, 
 Scott ever wrote ; ” and cited various objectionable parts. Dr. Clarke 
 stated, that he was on a visit to His Royal Highness the Duke of Sussex, 
 when several of the Ministers of State, and two or three of the members 
 of the Royal Family were present, on a particular occasion, — that some 
 of the Ministers, who were not in the habit of criticising works, de- 
 nounced it as a whole, — that His Royal Highness asked him his opinion of 
 it, to whom he replied that he had not read it, stating that his son, 
 (chaplain to His Royal Highness,) had read it, and condemned it, not 
 only as a history, but as to its literary merit, — the Duke turned to him, 
 
 saying, “ I have read it. Doctor ; Sir Walter is like an old on the 
 
 subject : he has written to please, and has prostituted his pen on the 
 work.” Dr. Clarke told Dr. E. what he had inserted in his sermon, 
 anticipating that it would appear strange to some ; but, said he, “ Napo- 
 leon was a great man ; and Scott had the opportunity of exhibiting him 
 as such all the way through — of maintaining his dignity— and, after 
 bringing him to the acme, of showing how this great man was brought 
 low, and fell into the hands of the English.” The writer remarked, that 
 Sir Walter could have no motive for underrating Napoleon ; for in pro- 
 portion as he exalted his character, he elevated the British nation, before 
 which such might and majesty were laid prostrate ; so that there was not 
 only nothing to lose by it, but everything to gain. Dr. Clarke then 
 related a circumstance in the history of the Duke of Marlborough^ 
 showing his pusillanimity in the case, as illustrative of the manner in 
 which he vras informed Scott had treated his subject, — lowering his own 
 dignity by the manner in which it was accomplished. Dr. E. followed 
 with another as a set-off against it, of Buonaparte ; and Dr. Clarke 
 closed with another of Admiral Duncan and Admiral De Winter, equally 
 honourable to both. 
 
 In November, a new chapel was opened at Bayswater, when the 
 
238 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 Doctor preached two sermons on the occasion: attended as nsual with 
 Divine unction. 
 
 Mr. Pettigrew, Librarian to His Eoyal Highness the Duke of Sussex, 
 remarks in the Preface to his “ Bibliotheca Sussexiana,” 2 vols., 4to? 
 p. viii., “ I am proud to render my acknowledgement to many kind 
 friends who have suggested to me various improvements and additions in 
 the course of my labours ; and in this respect it would be ungracious not 
 to particularise my excellent friends the Venerable the Archdeacon Glover, 
 Dr. Adam Clarke,” &c. The aid which the Doctor lent in this way, in 
 different directions, was considerable, and much of it unknown to the 
 public ; but! still illustrative of his unwearied diligence and obliging dis- 
 position. 
 
 At the close of 1828, and commencement of 1829, he suffered much 
 from rheumatism; and, in some instances, observed, that he had “to 
 write upon his knees.” He, nevertheless, was enabled at intervals to stir 
 abroad ; and, in addition to occasional pulpit exercises, passed the second 
 volume of his Sermons through the press. He also kept up an extensive 
 correspondence with the preachers on the Shetland Mission, as well as 
 with its friends ; exclusive of a correspondence with others on various 
 literary and other subjects. As to Shetland, he observed in a letter to 
 the biographer in the early part of the year, “The work, in the islands, 
 goes on well, very well : but there is a distressing cry for money to go on 
 with the chapels. The present set of preachers has little notion of the 
 severe economic plan I have been obliged to pursue from the beginning — 
 and they draw on me as they 'please^ without the slightest notice ; not even 
 telling ivhat it is for ! ” His thirst after the antique was unabated ; and, 
 in another letter, in April, after descanting on his intended history of tho 
 same Mission, with some notice of the islands, together with other labours 
 in which he had been engaged, he quietly remarks, “ See that you pick 
 me up some curious piece of antiquity, were it but the Horn Book out of 
 which Adam and Eve taught Cain and Abel their alphabet ! ” In the 
 month of May, he preached one of the Sermons in connection with the 
 Wesleyan Missionary Anniversary, in London : and so much was his 
 heart engaged in the prosperity of the Shetland Mission, that, in one of 
 his letters to the biographer, in the month of July, he asks, “Will you 
 ever go to Shetland again ? I believe I have one visit more to pay to 
 those islands, if my wife will permit : ” adding, “ I have received this 
 morning a letter from Mr. Chappell, to preach at Grosvenor Street. Give 
 my love to him, and tell him I am not going to Conference, and have as 
 much begging as I shall be able to get through. I have, with one thing 
 or other, been driven to my wits’ end. May God raise up help ! ” 
 
 He had not had a little trouble in reference to his literary property, in 
 consequence of the somewhat sudden death of his nephew ; but remarked, 
 in a letter dated August 24, “It will not displease you to hear, that, after 
 
PART VI. — SECTION V. 
 
 239 
 
 much trouble and delay, I have finally purchased all the remains of my 
 Commentary from the executors of the late J oseph Henry Butterworth ; 
 and am now removing the whole to my son’s house. There are very few 
 copies complete. This day, the 2nd vol. of the Sermons will be finished 
 at the press,” &c. 
 
 Noticing the clamour of the Komanists, in reference to their ‘‘claims,” 
 which was at this time unusually loud, he observed, “ I see Faddy 
 Catholic is determined never to rest till he get the kingdom entirely to him- 
 self. O, what an unmixed curse is Eoman Catholicism ! It is a universal 
 blight to every bud of grace^ of science^ and of civilisation. May God 
 end it, or mend it ! There are about half a dozen fellows, who, by com- 
 mitting high treason a hundred times, have so often forfeited their lives 
 to the law — and they have completely scared the poor Duke ” — [Welling- 
 ton.] Conversation turning on the Queen of George III., he said, “ Her 
 Majesty’s character is not understood by the public. Mr. Harding, the 
 under Librarian, visits at my house, and has given me a most excellent 
 character of Her Majesty for private benevolence, and even more than 
 that : she edited a book of prayers, of which Mr. Harding has a copy.’^ 
 It may be further remarked, that Her Majesty had a private printing press^ 
 from which a few stray leaves of some poetical effusions have come into 
 the hands of the biographer. 
 
 Having been importunately pressed to visit Burslem, Halifax, Irwell 
 Street, Manchester, and several other places, he complied with only two 
 or three of the invitations, and that only conditionally being in but a 
 poor state of health. At Halifax, which is associated with his earlier 
 history, he had never preached. He delivered an admirable discourse, 
 which the writer had the pleasure of hearing, in the new chapel, which 
 commenced the opening services, in the course of which services, the sum 
 of £521 4s. 3Jd. was collected ; between eighty and ninety pounds of 
 which were contributed in the morning, after the Doctor preached. A 
 person in the tailoring line was so delighted with the sermon, that he 
 went to the house of G. Brown, Esq., with whom the Doctor and Mrs. 
 Clarke domiciled, to take measure of him for a suit of clothes, with 
 which he intended to present him : the Doctor objected : importunity, 
 however, at length overcame him, and he submitted to indulge the man, by 
 allowing him to accomplish only part of his grateful purpose ; and, accord- 
 ingly, an excellent new top coat followed the Doctor in his wake homeward. 
 
 It will be recollected, that the good ladies of Halifax, had objected to 
 his appointment to the circuit, in the early part of his itinerancy. The 
 ladies in this case, set to work, unknown to the gentlemen, and obtained 
 his consent to open the chapel : while the latter were deliberating, they 
 went in with their answer, part of which was in praise of woman, and 
 relieved them of their trouble, in the midst of their grave and almost 
 hopeless deliberations. 
 
240 
 
 ADAM CLARKE* 
 
 Though symptoms of physical debility appeared in the course of this 
 tour, he exerted himself not a little to conceal it, to prevent it having any 
 painful influence on the sympathies of his friends. He ate but little : 
 the finest of the wheat was placed before him ; one thing after another 
 was offered and refused : a little coarse bread was on a sideboard, but not 
 presented to him : “I am afraid,” said Mrs. Brown, “ you are not making 
 well out. Doctor;” observing, ‘‘We have no other bread than this, 
 except what is on the table.” “ That, madam,” he replied, “ is the very 
 thing’ I want ; the other is too good for me ; I shall live now.” On 
 observing that he had a good deal of fever in his system, he said, “ I see 
 plainly that mind, good purpose, and zeal^ may last, and be active, when 
 strength is too far impaired to accomplish their dictates.” Time being 
 noticed, in its relation to an invisible state, he said, “ Time is a spark 
 struck out from eternity ; ” then changing the phraseology, he added, 
 “ There is the eternity past, and there is the eternity to come. Time is 
 an outbirth from both.” Speaking of the season, he said, “It is very 
 remarkable ; it appears as though November had stolen two or three days 
 from some other month, and yet it is difficult to say which. Some 
 one directing his attention to his favourite subject, the Shetland 
 Mission, he said, he thought of going again, if Mrs. Clarke would agree to 
 it. The biographer observed to the latter, I perceive that the Doctor has, 
 in various oblique ways, been taking his soundings, and you must allow 
 him a little ground for anchorage.” “ Never,” replied Mrs. Clarke with 
 firmness ; objecting chiefly to the danger. The Doctor turned round, 
 and enquired smiling, “ What boat was Caesar in, Mary, and to what 
 place was he proceeding incog, y when he silenced the fears of the sailors, 
 by telling them that the vessel carried Caesar and his fortunes ? ” con- 
 tinuing, “ I should go under the firm conviction that I was in the hand of 
 God, and that he would not allow me to perish till my work was done.” 
 The “ Personal Narrative ” of a writer being named, the Doctor said, 
 “ It is a poor thing : indeed, I never liked the man ; he never could meet 
 an honest eye, — but always shrunk from it.” On Good’s “Book of 
 Nature,” he stated, that he heard part of the work delivered in Lectures 
 by its author, prior to its publication, and that he had objections to 
 several parts, not only to his statements, but to certain portions of its 
 literary character, which he had entered in the margin of a copy belonging 
 to a friend. 
 
 He tarried in the neighbourhood of Manchester a short time, on his 
 return home, took Burslem on his route, and also Bruerton ; at which 
 last place, in addition to giving the people a sermon, he attended a Mis- 
 sionary Meeting. On finding all well at his own residence, on reaching 
 it, he returned to London, where he had to preach on the Sabbath day ; 
 and from thence, had to proceed to Denham, in Buckinghamshire, to 
 preach on the Tuesday ; observing, in a letter, “ Best, you perceive, is 
 
PART VI. — SECTION V. 
 
 241 
 
 not yet ordained for me.” In addition to occasional pulpit labour, and his 
 general reading and studies, part of the winter was occupied in relieving 
 the necessities of the poor — seventy families in all ; apportioning to each, 
 partly from his own funds, and partly through the assistance of a gentle- 
 man in the neighbourhood, blankets, and various articles of raiment. 
 
 In 1880, he contemplated a change of residence, and had serious 
 thoughts of closing his days in his native country. The following 
 remarks comprise his views and feelings on the subject ; and although it 
 is doubtful, as he himself observed, whether he would have obtained the 
 perfect acquiescence of the other branches of the family in the matter, 
 yet it is curious to see how nostalgia operates in its visitations on even 
 the aged, after the absence of half a century from their birth-place and 
 their home. “For several years,” he remarked, to the writer, as the 
 desire became more strong, “ I have wished to terminate my public life in 
 Ireland, and lay my bones among the children of my people. I at first, 
 fixed on the banks of Mayola^ but could not accomplish what I wished. 
 Hearing that Glanmire, near Cork, was to be sold^ I entered into a nego- 
 tiation concerning that, through the means of Mr. C ; * and although 
 
 the price might not have exceeded what I hoped my own property in 
 England might have been sold for, I gave up all thoughts about it when 
 I found there was no proper title to it ; and that it would be too great a 
 risk to run, with nothing better than probabilities before me : and besides, 
 the horrible disposition of a certain class of persons, who would, at all 
 times, be ready to cut the throats of their neighbours, when the interests 
 of their bad Mother [the Church of Rome] seemed to require it. Lastly, 
 I thought of the neighbourhood of Coleraine, and especially of Aherton, 
 and the coast from the Bar Mouthy even as far as Port Rush : but my 
 mind was loath to pass by Port Stuart^ and its environs, which was the 
 scene of my boyish days — lohere I had the rudiments of my little educa- 
 tion, — where I first saw, or even heard of a Methodist Preacher, — ivhere 
 I first felt conviction of sin, of righteousness, and of judgment, — where 
 I found the pardoning love of God, — where I first joined the Methodists, 
 — where I became a leader, — where I first felt a call to offer the salvation 
 of Christ to my neighbours, and from which I was calledu to become an 
 Itinerant Preacher, These things gave me so many points of attachment 
 to Flowerfield,, Burnside, Mullaghyeall, and Port Stuart^ that no part of 
 the habitable globe would have produced half the number. It struck me 
 to ask Mr. Cromie, whether he had a bit of ground, that I could purchase, 
 to build a little snug house on ; or whether he had such a house he could 
 dispose of? I received a letter from Mr. H., to whom Mr. C. had men- 
 tioned mine to him, and afterwards one from Mr. C., which, full of the 
 utmost friendship, and willing even to make sacrifices for my accommoda- 
 tion, yet seemed to take up the subject on too large and too expensive a 
 * J. Cromie, Esq., PortstTiart, Irela,nd. 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 Q 
 
242 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 scale for me ever to pretend to. I wrote both to Mr. H. and Mr. C., and 
 made such a general exjoose of my circumstances as would tend to correct 
 and limit their view with respect to me. Again I wrote to Mr. C., (who 
 had answered the above,) and even mentioned a field — in which, after a 
 long and sore fight of affliction, I found the peace of God. Yet the 
 answer to that told me that the field was let on lease^ and was, conse- 
 quently, not to be sold. Mr. C. spoke of a field of his own, that he was 
 willing to part with ; but where it was, or whether it would answer to 
 build on, I did not know. On the whole,” he proceeded, “ it seems my 
 wishes are not likely to meet with any immediate gratification, — though 
 I am satisfied, good Mr. Cromie would meet my wishes, if he could. This 
 subject I have never yet intimated either to my wife, or any of my 
 family:” for a very sufficient reason, as he subjoined, “as I have no 
 doubt, that all would be against it.” 
 
 About the same time, when speaking of the Round Tower at Antrim, 
 which he had examined, and an account of which he had laid before the 
 “ Antiquarian Society,” he said, “ I wish I could buy that tower, and the 
 field in which it stands ; I would call it Machpelah, and perhaps make 
 it an inheritance for my posterity ; and a place for a burying-gTound : 
 but I should be sorely tempted to make the lower part of the tower into 
 a dwelling-house^ and the top into an observatory T But here was a “let 
 or hindrance.” Leasehold was to him, at all times, a fly in the pot of 
 ointment. “ On such a tenure,” said he, “ I would not put down a brick. 
 If I. ever settle in Ireland, which I have long desired, it must be on a 
 piece of ground that must be my own^ from the surface to the centre — 
 and from the day I take possession of it, to the day of judgments 
 
 He negotiated with a person after this, at Portstuart, for a house, 
 which he ultimately purchased, and at his request, the biographer corres- 
 ponded with the person on the subject. “ I can remain no longer in 
 England,” said he, “to see Methodism, as left by John Wesley, de- 
 stroyed,” — referring to the Leeds Organ case, and other inroads made 
 upon the system by Dr. Bunting, whose plans, in his view, only tended 
 to make “rich men necessary f and whom he considered as having 
 seriously injured the spirit, simplicity, and power of Methodism. He was 
 a man of peace, and saw no way of checking the evils that were springing 
 up in the body. Matters appeared to grow worse,* as time advanced ; 
 but the good Doctor was taken from the evil to come, and saw not the 
 worst ; others were left to reap the bitter fruit. 
 
 The debility which he experienced towards the close of autumn, seemed 
 chiefly to have left him ; and he observed in the month of January, “ I 
 seem now to have a new hold of life ; through all this hard winter, they 
 have driven me about, preaching charity sermons, not only in Middlesex 
 and Oxfordshire, but also through Cheshire, Yorkshire, and Staffordshire ; 
 
 ♦ Appendix, Vol. ii„ No. 3. 
 
PART VI. — SECTION V. 
 
 243 
 
 and I am better, blessed be the Lord, than I have been for eight years 
 past. I wish to preach once every Lord’s-day, as long as I live ; and 
 sometimes, on particular, or special occasions, to take an extra job. 
 But to Ireland, nor to any other place will I go, as I have done ; and as I 
 was obliged to do when last officially appointed in my ‘ ain countree ” 
 subjoining to a friend, who was well acquainted with the dialect adopted, 
 — “ na, na : I hae na the spunk I ance had, whan I preechit nine times i’ 
 the day, trotted twanty mile, on my shanks, and had na better than a 
 wheen praties and a sip o’ butter milk, a maist turned into whey, it was 
 sae auld, and sae soor : ” further adding, ‘‘ and I really delight to 
 remember those times : they were times of G-od and of his love.” Is it 
 wonderful, with such associations of home, of simplicity, of God, and of 
 usefulness, there should be yearnings after the scene of early days ? But 
 he was aware that zeal might run itself out of breath ; and to the person 
 addressed, he remarked, “ I fear nothing for you, but lest you should 
 injure yourself by acts of imprudence, produced merely by your zeal for 
 God, in the salvation of souls. You ride a fine courser ; take the spurs 
 off your heels, and stick them in your hat ; he needs them not. He is 
 a free horse ; let him never be ridden to death. Check him gently with 
 the hit ; and he will serve you well, and serve you long,'" 
 
 It was announced to the Doctor, at the commencement of this year, by 
 the Secretary, that he was elected an Honorary Member of the ‘‘Eclectic 
 Society of London.’^ The notification of this was under the seal of the 
 Duke of Gloucester, its Patron, and of which the Chancellors of the two 
 Universities of Oxford and Cambridge, were Vice-Patrons. This honour 
 was conferred only upon such as had rendered themselves eminent either 
 in literary or scientific pursuits. This Society, it is presumed, will not be 
 confounded with one of the same name, “consisting,” as Mr. Grimshawe 
 observes, in his edition of Cowper’s Works, vol. ii., p. 107, “ of several 
 pious ministers, who statedly met for the purpose of mutual edification, 
 and which is still in existence,” and of which. Dr. Southey, in his 
 edition of the works of the same poet, represents the Bev. J. Newton as 
 the founder, vol. i.. Preface, p. vi., but one of a widely different character. 
 Dr. Clarke being complimented on this additional laurel, turned it off with 
 the tale of an old matron, whose son had come to great honour, but to 
 which she was unable to give a name, though impressed with the notion 
 that it was something more than royalty : and being anxious to know what 
 amount it brought to him per annum, was astonished to find it, in the 
 reply to her question, reduced to — nothing : the old lady’s estimate of 
 honour being found to run side by side with so much hard cash. 
 
 Towards the latter part of March, just after he had experienced a 
 slight stroke of paralysis, occasioned by a sudden shock received in con- 
 sequence of a nearly fatal accident which was about befalling Mrs. Clarke, 
 through an unmanageable horse in a barouchette in which she was seated, 
 
 Q 2 
 
244 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 and which slightly affected liis speech for a short time, he paid a visit to 
 Derby, Manchester, Salford, Ashton-under-Lyne, and Stockport. At 
 each of these places the feeling to hear him was intense; and the collections 
 in some cases double those of the year preceding: Ashton £40, Derby £60, 
 Wesley Chapel, Manchester, £103, Salford £105, Stockport £70. 
 
 In the course of this visit, he dined, (April 1,) and spent an afternoon 
 at the house of G. R. Chappell, Esq., whom he both loved and respected, 
 and who had invited a circle of friends to meet him. There was one in 
 the company, an early friend of Jabez Bunting, with whom the Doctor 
 had been on terms of intimacy in early life, but whose feelings, together 
 with those of his family, had, through some whisperer, or misapprehension, 
 become estranged ; the following sentence going the round of a narrow 
 circle, “ Dr. Clarke deserts his old friends.” Of this the Doctor knew 
 nothing ; but it being known to the biographer, who was resolved to break 
 the neck of it, without allowing the Doctor to know the design, both 
 sallied forth after the ladies had withdrawn ; and introducing the Doctor 
 to the good lady and family of the gentleman in question left behind, 
 a mutual greeting took place — the lady joined the company at tea — all. 
 shyness subsided — the Doctor’s impression, that the family had gone to 
 reside in a part which he never visited, was corrected — and “olden times” 
 became the topic of conversation ; smiling at a certain gentleman’s par- 
 tiality to the leg of a goose, the Doctor jocosely observed, that he recol- 
 lected how fond the said gentleman was in taking that fowl by the limb. 
 Mr. Wood pressed the Doctor to visit him at his residence, and spend a 
 little time with him. The Doctor looked him in the face, with his eyes 
 swimming in water, and said, “ Of all the friends I have in this neigh- 
 bourhood, there is not one whose house I would sooner go to than yours 
 (familiarising his Christian name). God has given me a body and a 
 mind that have gone through a great deal ; — I can live sparingly, — do 
 with little raiment, — with little sleep, — and very little food ; but there is 
 one thing I have never been able to live without — my friends. Next 
 to God himself, I must have these, or I could not live. I have a bottle of 
 wine at Hay don Hall, which wine has been in the bottle ninety years, 
 and if you (still looking at the gentleman,) will pay me a visit, you shall 
 draw the cork.” Had the Doctor — (for the writer concealed it from him,) 
 — known the charge of ingratitude and slighted friendship preferred 
 against him, he could not have timed a remark more seasonably, any more 
 than have put it into a more appropriate form. The fact is, while the 
 Doctor like the good man of the house slept secure in cherished friendship, 
 an “ enemy ” had stepped in and “ sown tares,” as he had done elsewhere. 
 Why so parsimonious, as to grudge a little friendship to another than 
 ourselves ? The same lamp will light up a hundred more, without diminish- 
 ing its own fulness. Friendship suffers nothing by expansion. The more 
 it gives, the more it receives, when genuine. 
 
PART VI.— SECTION V. 
 
 245 . 
 
 The ordinance of baptism being introduced, the Doctor stated, that 
 
 he could not close in with the views of Dr. Maut. Mr. W argued 
 
 that children who were baptised, stood higher in grace than those who 
 had not received the rite, and that they would have a higher degree of 
 glory assigned them in heaven. To this the Doctor demurred ; and gave 
 the views of Mr. Wesley, who believed that the seeds of regeneration were 
 sown in baptism, and was inclined to think that he was correct. Another 
 gentleman struck in, and intimated his belief in the fact, that grace might 
 be imparted in consequence of pious people using the ordinance, just as 
 wickedness might follow in the case of wicked parents ; quoting, in his 
 support, the case of God visiting the sins of the fathers upon the children. 
 “ Yes,” said the Doctor, “ but there is a reference in that text to such 
 children as you and me — both of whom are grandfathers.” The conversa- 
 tion terminated, though lengthened, in a maintenance, that the neglect 
 and wickedness of parents would not be entailed upon their infants, — but 
 that every one would suffer for his own sin. 
 
 It was the Doctor’s intention to have proceeded by way of Liverpool 
 to Ireland, whither he wished the biographer to accompany him ; ob- 
 serving, “You assisted me in laying the foundation of a house for God in 
 the ULTIMA Thule of the ancients, and you must now help me to prepare 
 a house in which to end my days. You shall see the place, within a very 
 narrow space around which the principal events of my early life lie 
 grouped together ; and it is in the north of Ireland that you will see 
 genuine Irish manners and hospitality : adding, under the influence of 
 early impressions, “We shall be there just in time for the salmon Ashing.” 
 While at Derby, however, it may be observed, he received a letter, pressing 
 him to return to London, tcT take part of the services connected with the 
 opening of a new chapel, with which invitation he complied. While in 
 the metropolis, he hesitated whether to proceed to Ireland by way of 
 Bristol, Holyhead, or Liverpool. He looked at the land carriage which 
 he had already compassed from London to Manchester and back again, 
 with another journey to Liverpool ; and then again, at the length of the 
 voyage from Bristol, on the chance of unfavourable weather ; neither of 
 which suited him at the time. He at length decided in favour of Liver- 
 pool, where he was joined by the writer. After tarrying there a day or 
 two on account of the unsettled state of the weather, a passage was taken 
 in the Corsair a large steam vessel, eleven hundred tons burthen, for 
 Belfast. She sailed in the evening, but before two or three hours had 
 elapsed, the storm arose with renewed fury; and what made matters 
 somewhat more perilous was, that the engine lost the power of one of her 
 wheels, so that she had to plough her way through the waves like a sea- 
 bird with one leg. Now was the time for thinking over an expression to 
 which the Doctor gave utterance, while hesitating on shore ; — “I always 
 like to be sure of upyer country worh^ He doubted whether the utmost 
 
246 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 prudence and forecast had been exercised. However, the captain, (Owen,) 
 whose brother was named after a Methodist preacher, and with whom the 
 Doctor was personally acquainted, assigned a separate apartment for the 
 two voyagers, who were as comfortable as landsmen could be in a storm, 
 with a partially disabled engine, and the mops held in constant requisition 
 in their immediate neighbourhood ; feeling, at the same time, the full 
 emphasis of another expression of the Doctor’s, — a thousand leagues of 
 sea for an acre of land for me.” 
 
 The forenoon of the next day was more tranquil, and after an agree- 
 able sail up Belfast I^och, a distance of twenty miles, a safe landing was 
 effected about twelve o’clock in the afternoon. After tarrying at Belfast 
 till the Friday, the places successively visited were Antrim, Coleraine, 
 Port Stuart, Grace Hill, the Giant’s Causeway, &c. To the last of these 
 places, the visit was confined to the biographer and a few friends, and 
 sermons were preached by one or both, at most of the others. As a free 
 use of the journal of this visit has been made in the earlier parts of this 
 memoir, owing to the more appropriate character of much of the material 
 for that portion of the work — the Doctor having gone over the principal 
 part of his early history, with the biographer by his side, while visiting 
 the scenes and haunts of youth, most of which were either teeming with 
 incident or enriched with observations, and as an epitome of the visit has 
 been already given to the public from the Doctor’s own pen, there is the 
 less disposition to enlarge, though regret cannot but be felt — owing to 
 the limits prescribed for the remainder of these pages — that most of his 
 happiest and richest conversations should have to be withheld ; as for 
 example, the following : — 
 
 On the writer entering the library of J. Cromie, Esq., with whom 
 both domiciled, just before breakfast one morning, the Doctor said, “ I 
 was up long before five o’clock, gaziug on the vast ocean, rolling his 
 tremendous but magnificent waves to the shore, dashing against and 
 over the rocks, and approaching within only a few yards of our feet. We 
 are, I suppose, within ten or twenty yards of the place, where the polu- 
 pJiloishois thalasses is most fully exemplified ; and where more than three 
 score years ago, I first noticed the accuracy of the description of .the 
 rolling of the waves, and their dash on the shore. In no sea, in all my 
 travels, have I ever seen this so finely exemplified as here : and I presume 
 Homer must have stood as advantageously on some Grecian shore, when 
 he wrote in his first Iliad, the line which I now quote, — 
 
 o’ aKeojv Trapa Oiva TroXv^Xoicrtoig QaXaffcrrjg. 
 
 The poetry, which represents Agamemnon on the shore^ is expressive 
 of the wave gathering, — its first curl hissing^ — then rolling over, — and 
 dashing down.” Here the Doctor made a noble effort at imitation ; 
 repeating the first words in a meditative mood, — then, coming to the last, 
 
PAKT VI. — SECTION V. 
 
 247 
 
 suddenly stopped and wlieeled round, — slowly walking along with his 
 head downward, and uttering the words, — varying the voice and the 
 action to the wave — rising — rolling — and falling. 
 
 Turning to a pane of glass, the writer found that the Doctor had not 
 only been contemplating “ the great deep,” but also human life, and had 
 cut out, with the point of a diamond, and with a careful hand, the 
 following lines, which, on his return to England, were inserted in an 
 Album : — 
 
 of fife.’' 
 
 I have enjoyed the spring of life — 
 
 I have endured the toils of its summer — 
 
 I have culled tine fruits of its autumn — 
 
 I am now passing through the rigors of its winter ; 
 
 And I am neither forsaken of God, 
 
 Nor abandoned by man. 
 
 I see at no great distance the dawn of a new day, 
 
 The first of a spring that shall be eternal ! 
 
 It is advancing to meet me ! 
 
 I run to embrace it ! 
 
 Welcome! welcome! spring ! 
 
 Hallelujah ! ” 
 
 He generally carried with him, what he called his Travelling Library ; 
 but it not being convenient always to pack the books in his carpet-bag, 
 he was anxious to have a case for it ; and with this he was furnished by 
 the writer^ soon after he reached home, the whole being comprised within 
 very little compass. In this case there were several small compartments, 
 made to receive the following works : — Leusden’s Greek Testament, with 
 the Latin Version of Montani ; Amsterdam, 1741, 24mo. : Field’s 
 Septuagint ; Cantabrigia, 1665, 24mo. : Hebrew Bible, 24mo. : Paw- 
 sham’s edition of the English Version of the Bible, 1776, 32mo. : Horace, 
 printed by J. Jannoni Sedani, 1627 ; and Virgil, printed by the same, 
 1625 ; both bound in one volume, with silver clasp, 48mo., for which he 
 gave £3 3s. to Priestley. In companionship with these, he commissioned 
 the biographer to procure for him a small copy of the English Prayer- 
 book, without the Psalms. Thus equipped, with his ink-bottle, which he 
 had carried thousands of miles, suspended by a black ribbon round his 
 neck, and which he could put into his waistcoat -pocket, he was rarely 
 unemployed. 
 
 On looking over part of Mr. Cromie’s grounds one morning, for a site 
 on which to erect a dwelling for the Doctor, prior to the purchase of one 
 which was afterwards selected, an aged female, bending over her staff, 
 directed her feeble steps towards the party. It was the usual morning set 
 apart by Mr. Cromie for relieving the pensioners on his bounty, and^ 
 others were also seen streaming in different directions towards his hos- 
 pitable residence. The matron referred to, stooped a good deal— had a 
 fair complexion — was much furrowed with age — and, had*',' upon the whole, 
 
248 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 a round agreeable face ; presenting — bad she been clean, and clothed 
 with other attire than rags — a lovely picture of advanced life. She first 
 paid court to the group, and then singling out the Doctor, as if instinc- 
 tively led to him, asked, while raising her head. 
 
 Old W , — “ Is not your name Mr. Clarke, Sir ? ” 
 
 Dr, C, — “ Yes, my name is Clarke ; but there are many others of the 
 same name, and I may not be the person after whom you are inquiring.’’ 
 Old W , — “ O yes, Sir, you are the person, and I heard you preach in 
 the county Derry, between fifty and sixty years ago.” 
 
 Dr, C . — “ Are you sure you heard a person of that name ? ” 
 
 Old W , — “ Yes, Sir, I heard you ; but you were very young then.” 
 The Doctor, being desirous of leading her into detail, but in such a 
 way as, while it served her recollection, might be confirmatory of the 
 accuracy of her relation, inquired — 
 
 Dr, C , — “ What is your age ? ” 
 
 Old W , — “ Eighty-seven.” 
 
 Dr, C. — “ What is the name of the place at which you suppose you 
 heard me preach ? ” 
 
 Old W , — “ E"ew Buildings, about a mile and a half from Derry.” 
 
 Dr: C, — “ What were you doing there at the time ? ” 
 
 Old W , — ‘‘I lived servant at the time with Mr. Mountjoy, whose 
 house was several miles from New Buildings. ” 
 
 Dr, 0, — “ Have you a husband ? ” 
 
 Old W , — “ I had a husband, but he went to England — had another 
 wife, and left me with three children.” 
 
 Dr, C, — Abruptly : “He was a scamp.” 
 
 Old TE— “Sir?” 
 
 Dr, C, — “ He was a scamp, I say ; that is, a scoundrel — a bad man.” 
 Old W, — “Aye — he was not all right — I found that out.” 
 
 Then changing the subject — 
 
 Dr, C , — “ What kind of place was it that you heard preaching in ? ” 
 Here the old woman gave a graphic and accurate description of the 
 place. 
 
 Dr, C . — “ Who was there besides you?” 
 
 Old W, — “Mr. and Mrs. Mountjoy, and Mr. Halliday.” 
 
 Dr, 0, — “ Who else? ” 
 
 Old W , — “ Betty Quige.” 
 
 Dr, C , — “ W'here did I go from New Buildings?” 
 
 Old W , — “ Up the hill, to meet the class, and to sleep.” 
 
 Dr, C , — “ What else do you recollect ? ” 
 
 Old W , — “ Oh, you held a meeting the next morning at five o’clock, 
 at Mr. Halliday’s, and, though several miles from the place where I 
 lived, I was there again.” ^ 
 
 Dr, C , — “ Do you recollect the text taken in the evening? ” 
 
PART VI. — SECTION \^. 
 
 249 
 
 Old W , — Pausing : ‘‘Let me see; ” hesitating/ and pausing again, — 
 “ I think it was in Luke.” 
 
 Dt*. c . — “ It was not there : think again. Was anything said about 
 J'ohn ? and, among other strange things, his being put into a caldron of 
 boiling oil ? ” 
 
 Old W. — Pausing again : “Well, I cannot rightly say; but you met 
 the class and preached next morning.” 
 
 Dr, C , — “ I did : ” then, addressing himself to the little party, he 
 proceeded : “ This woman heard the very first sermon — if so it might 
 be called — I ever preached ; at all events, she heard me on the first text I 
 ever attempted to explain.” “And pray, what was the text, Doctor? ” 
 inquired the biographer, who stood by his side. “ It was 1 John v. 19,” 
 he replied ; “We know that we are of God, and the whole world lieth in 
 wickedness : ” subjoining, in reference to his early hearer, “ It is not to 
 be wondered that she should cease to remember the text ; it was about 
 the year 1780.” Turning to his hearer again, he asked, “Do you 
 recollect any famous woman in the neighbourhood at that time ? ” She 
 hesitated, and seemed to be at a loss to know what was to be applied to 
 the word famous : when she was relieved by — “ I mean, any woman that 
 was remarkable for her usefulness among the people.” She named several, 
 when the conversation was interrupted by Mr. Wray riding up to the 
 party, the son of a neighbouring magistrate. The Doctor gave her a 
 shilling, and she seemed anxious to gain his ear for something else, but 
 was told he would see her again. She heard him preach that same night, 
 — having thus, after the hour of preaching, power to say, what, in all 
 probability, no one upon earth but herself had power to say — that she had 
 heard the first and the last sermon, with the lapse of fifty years between. 
 Dr. Clarke had then preached. He took this text — the one at New 
 Buildings — in one of the chapels in London, between forty and fifty 
 years after ; stating to his auditory, that it was his first text, and that he 
 had never seen proper to change his views on the subject. 
 
 A house referred to in a preceding page, being oftered for sale just at 
 this time, the Doctor bought it ; and, after having settled matters, left 
 for Belfast, taking Grace Hill, Antrim, and some other places in his 
 route. To the writer it was a rich treat. Grace Hill, a Moravian 
 establishment, was reached on the evening of the third of May : the next 
 day the Moravians celebrated their second jubilee, and first centenary, — 
 having first settled there. May 4th, 1730 : the celebration was chiefly 
 confined to the single sisters, who held a lovefeast on the occasion. To 
 this place, Montgomery, the author of the “ World before the Flood,” 
 was brought from Scotland by his parents, when three years of age ; and 
 here he remained till he arrived at the age of six. His nephew, and two 
 venerable ladies, aunts of the poet, were resident at the place, and, 
 together with the ministers and the joyous occasion, heightened the 
 
250 
 
 ADAM CLARK E. 
 
 pleasure of the visit. John James Montgomery, the nephew, now a 
 Moravian minister in England, was then rising into manhood, — tall — 
 well-made — finely arched eyebrows — highly intellectual — imaginative — a 
 mind richly cultivated — good taste — excellent conversational powers ; 
 exhibiting in his actions, his mode of thinking, and in the inflexions of 
 his voice, some of the more expressive features of the poet. He took 
 the writer to the Moravian burying-ground, where 
 
 “ The little heaps were rang“ed in comely rows, 
 
 With walks between, bj” friends and kindred trod ; ” 
 
 the image of which seemed to have been present with his uncle, when 
 penning “ The Burying-place of the Patriarchs,*'’ at the commencement 
 of the fifth canto of “ The World before the Flood.” The grave of his 
 grandfather, (on the maternal side,) and also that of his grandmother — 
 the daughter of the excellent John Grambold, the early friend of Wesley, 
 a Moravian bishop, author of “ Ignatius ” and other poems — were pointed 
 out. Thence, the steps of the visitor were directed to the abode of the 
 aunts of his father, (Ignatius Montgomery,) and of his uncle ; two 
 venerable figures — in a clean, neat, thatched cottage — embowered among 
 trees, in the midst of a garden — a small wicket, and narrow path leading 
 to the door — the venerable pair living by themselves, the picture of inno- 
 cence, simplicity, and happiness — one of them (the oldest) about eighty 
 years of age, strongly resembling the poet about the upper part of the 
 face, with a brilliant hazel eye, — with two small spinning-wheels standing 
 in the room, emblems of industry, and relics of times anterior to the 
 invention of flax and cotton-mills. Next were taken out the fishing- 
 rods, which were employed without success. After that, the village, 
 castle, and church of Galgoram were visited, in company with the Doctor. 
 Among other conversations, the Doctor observed, addressing Mr. Mont- 
 gomery, “ The only point on which I differ with your uncle, is, the pre- 
 ference which he gives to Dr. Watts over Charles Wesley, as a poet.” He 
 then quoted a hymn, which W^ts himself had applauded — “ Wrestling 
 Jacob,” and dwelt on the superiority of the Wesleyan hymnologisft. 
 Mr. Montgomery, to ward off the good-tempered stroke, asked whether 
 his uncle did not cede the palm to Watts, chiefly, for having led the way 
 to a better form, and more elevated style of poetry, as to hymns ? This 
 the Doctor would not admit ; and a few miscellaneous remarks closed the 
 subject. Three of the Moravian ministers joined the party at supper, and 
 strongly pressed the Doctor to preach ; but his time was limited and 
 would not admit of it. Early on the morning of departure, the jubilee 
 commenced by strewing flowers before the doors of all the single sisters, 
 both those who were in the institution, and those resident with their 
 parents in the village. This being done, the young men of the institution 
 played several sacred airs and psalm-tunes, at the four corners of the 
 square, after which the solemnities of public worship commenced. 
 
PAKT VI. SECTION V. 
 
 251 
 
 After spending a short time at Antrim and Belfast, a passage was 
 taken in the Hibernia steam-packet for Liverpool, at which place the 
 Doctor rested a couple of days ; and, after preaching at Leeds- Street 
 Chapel on the Sabbath, left for London, where he arrived on the 11th 
 of May : having been somewhat annoyed by the way, on finding, when 
 he reached Warrington, that nine convicts were on the top of the coach, 
 to grace his entrance into the metropolis. The very iron seemed to enter 
 his soul, when he heard their chains clanking, as they descended and re- 
 ascended the coach. 
 
 In the months of June and July, he preached occasional sermons at 
 Worcester, Liverpool, and some other places, and presided at the second 
 South Welsh district meeting, at Carmarthen. This was his first visit 
 to South Wales; and, though he had frequently passed and repassed 
 through North Wales, he had never preached there. In a letter to the 
 biographer, he observes, — South Wales, take it for wood and water, hill and 
 dale, mountain and valley scenery, I think exceeds almost every place 
 I have seen. To me, it is beauty itself ; and this very day I was regret- 
 ting, that I had not your eye and your hand, to lay it all down on paper.’" 
 He contemplated another visit to Ireland, and intended to spend the time 
 there, which his brethren on this side of the water were obliged to devote 
 to the sittings of the British Conference at Leeds, but was prevented. 
 
 In another letter to the writer, he observed, — “We have lost 
 George IV., and got William IV. The deceased was the best constitu- 
 tional king that ever sat on the British throne. May the successor be 
 equal to him ! I suppose that the present ministry will keep their places. 
 Perhaps, as things are, we cannot get a better set : they never had an 
 ounce of my confidence ; the general election will soon make a busy and 
 a sinful nation. Lord keep our people sound in the truth ©f the Gospel, 
 and of the constitution ! ” 
 
 Contrary to Dr. Clarke’s intention, and opposed to his wish, he, at 
 the urgent request of his, friends, attended the Leeds Conference, at which 
 several resolutions were unanimously adopted, expressive of the determined 
 hostility of the Wesleyan body to slavery. On the resolutions being 
 moved, thef^ were cordially seconded by him. He preached in Brunswick 
 Chapel, on Acts xix. 20 — 22 ; but remarked afterwards, to the biographer, 
 
 I am torn all to pieces by this day’s woyk.” He proceeded from 
 Leeds to Liverpool, and, on his way, spent some time in the neighbour- 
 hood of Manchester. 
 
 The Doctor at this time published, as a separate work, with a distinct 
 preface, including his reasons for it, ‘‘ The whole Book of Psalms. The 
 texts carefully printed from the most correct copies of the present Autho- 
 rised Translation, including the marginal readings and parallel texts. 
 With a commentary and critical notes ; and, at the end of each Psalm, a 
 copious analysis of its whole contents.” Some of the parts of his general 
 
252 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 Commentary being out of print, and having passed the 70th year of his 
 age, he was unwilling — other reasons combined — to engage in the labour 
 of superintending a new edition, and therefore authorized the biographer 
 to correspond and treat with Mr. Paul, bookseller, New York, America, 
 respecting the copyright, under the impression that, as he had derived 
 no advantage from its sale, a new edition, with his last corrections, 
 emendations, additions, &c., might be acceptable to the American public, 
 whose demand had brought into the market, in that country, two stereo- 
 typed editions, by two different houses. This negotiation having fallen 
 through, the writer was next authorised to negotiate with a London 
 publisher, and with the exception of signing the agreement, which was 
 afterwards amicably done by the Doctor’s executors, he brought the 
 matter to a close with Mr. Tegg, who agreed to give two thousand guineas 
 for the copyright, which was afterwards settled down to £2,000. This 
 enterprising publisher afterwards purchased the copyright of the Doctor’s 
 other Works, printed and in MS., and gave the principal part of them to 
 the world, in 13 volumes, 12mo, with the exception of his Bibliographical 
 Dictionary, the whole of which were committed to the hands of the 
 present writer to edit, and to furnish such Prefaces and other matter as 
 might be required to complete the whole. One interesting fact may be 
 noticed in connection with the American edition of the Commentary. 
 Mrs. Sigourney, in a letter to Mrs. Smith, daughter of Doctor Clarke, 
 observes, in reference to some beautiful lines on his death, in her “ Lays 
 of the West,” — “A few years after I had written the heart-felt tribute 
 to his memory, — it seemed as if he opened his hand to confer upon me a 
 pleasant and peculiar benefit. One of our pastors (and it was then, rather 
 a new custom among us) gathered around him the adult ladies of his 
 church, in a Bible-class. It was observed when there were difficult pas- 
 sages in our lessons, I seemed to be furnished with information, which 
 my compeers, though perhaps close students, had not obtained. On their 
 inquiry it was found, that the cabalistic key to this theological erudition, 
 was a copy of the learned Adam Clarke’s Commentary, which had been 
 lent me by a friend.” 
 
 In the autumn of this year, the Doctor’s attention was directed by 
 three ladies, to the necessity of establishing Schools for children, in the 
 destitute district of Ulster, which ladies, in connection with Miss Birch 
 — the latter a munificent benefactress of the Shetland mission — placed 
 funds at his disposal for the purpose. Into this work he fully entered, 
 and, in connection with the Bev. S. Harper, Mr. M‘Alwine, and others, 
 established a number of schools, which were eminently successful, personally 
 visited by him, and nursed with the tenderest care to the close of life ; of 
 which some highly interesting accounts have been laid before the public. 
 
 Having been pressed to visit the metropolis, and also Haydon Hall, 
 in reference to some literary arrangements, the biographer passed some days 
 
PART VI. — SECTION V. 
 
 253 
 
 of deep interest with the Doctor and his family, especially in the library, 
 and among the antiques, where a free and full range was obligingly 
 allowed, and every facility was afforded for the gratification of curious as 
 well as grave research. 
 
 Though the utmost restraint has been imposed in the composition of 
 these pages, as to the act of taxing the Doctor’s correspondence with the 
 biographer, with a view to enlarge the work, it may not be deemed any 
 great departure from the general rule prescribed, to introduce the follow- 
 ing letter in this place, as it furnishes an interesting glimpse into ‘‘the 
 inner man,” as to the habit of thought and feeling indulged at the time ; 
 and the more so, as the whole was spontaneous, flowing as naturally from 
 the heart as a stream from its fountain. 
 
 “ Dec. 21, five o’clock a.m.. 
 
 Shortest day in 1830. 
 
 “ Dear Everett. — In the name of God ! Amen. About three-score 
 and ten of such short days have I seen ; and, as my time, in the course 
 of nature, as it is called, is now ended, (for the above time is its general 
 limit,) I need to have little to do, as my time is at the longest, and this 
 day is the shortest I may ever see ; yet I have never fallen out with life : 
 I have borne many of its rude blasts, and I have been fostered with not a 
 few of its finest breezes ; and should I complain against time and the 
 dispensations of Providence, then shame would be to me ! Indeed, if 
 God sees right, I have no objection to live on here to the day of judgment ; 
 for while the earth lasts, there will be something to do by a heart, head, 
 and hand like mine — as long as there is something to be learnt, something 
 to be sympathetically felt, and something to be done. I have not lived 
 to, or for myself — I am not conscious to myself that I have ever passed 
 one such day. My fellow- creatures were the subjects of my deepest 
 meditations, and the objects of my most earnest attention. God never 
 needed my services : He brought me into the world that I might receive 
 good from Him, and do good to my fellows. This is God’s object in 
 reference to all human beings, and should be the object of every man in 
 reference to his brother. This is the whole of my practical creed. God, 
 in his love, gave me a being : in His mercy he has done everything he 
 should do, to make it a well-being ; has taught me to love him, by first 
 loving me; and has taught me to love my neighbour as myself, by 
 inspiring me with his own love. Therefore my grand object, in all my 
 best and considerate moments, is, to live to get good from God, that I 
 may do good to my fellows ; and this alone is the way in which man can 
 glorify his Maker. Perhaps a man of a cold heart and uncultivated head 
 might say, in looking into the articles of his faith, ‘ This may be the 
 creed of an infidel, of a deist, or natural religionist.’ I say, Xo. Xo 
 such person ever had such a creed, or ever can have it. It is in and 
 
254 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 through the Almighty Jesus alone, that the all-binding, all-persuading, 
 all-constraining, and all- pervading love of God to man was ever known ; 
 and to me it is a doubt, whether there was, is, or could be, any other way 
 in which God himself could, or can make himself known to the compound 
 being man. Jesus the Christ incarnated; Jesus the Christ crucified; 
 Jesus the Christ dying for our offences, and rising for our justification ; 
 Jesus sending forth the all-pervading, all- refining, and all-purifying light 
 and energy of his Holy Spirit, has revealed the secret, and accomplished 
 the purpose of that God whose name is mercy and whose nature is love. 
 If I could conceive the wondrous Saviour to be a derived being — a 
 begotten Deity, no matter how long ago, I could esteem him for his 
 philanthropy, I could reverence him for the disinterestedness of his con- 
 duct — for I can esteem Newton, and I can reverence Howard. But 
 Newton and Howard, with their wisdom and benevolence united, could 
 not, though all the angels of God had come to their assistance, have made 
 atonement for the offences of my soul, or bought for me an eternity of 
 glory : this has Jesus (the underived, the unbegotten, the eternal sum of 
 all infinite and eternal perfections) done by his manifestation in the flesh, 
 and by the consequences of that manifestation. O thou incomprehensible 
 Jehovah, thou eternal Word, the ever-enduring and all-pervading Spirit ; 
 — Father ! Son ! and Holy Ghost ! — in the plenitude of thy eternal God- 
 head, in thy light, I, in a measure, see Thee : and, in thy condescending 
 nearness to my nature, I can love Thee, for Thou hast loved me. In thy 
 strength may I begin, continue, and end every design, and every work ; 
 so as to glorify Thee, by shewing how much Thou lovest man, and how 
 much man may be ennobled and beautified by loving Thee 1 O, my 
 Everett, here am I fixed, here am I lost, and here I find my God, and 
 here I find myself! But whither do I run, or rather rush? When I sat 
 down to write, not one word of what is written was designed. I only 
 intended to write a little on a subject in which you so kindly interested 
 yourself, in order to render the last days of your aged brother a little 
 more comfortable, by enabling him to continue in a little usefulness to 
 the end : — not rusting, but wearing out. * * * ^ ‘ Xhe powers of 
 
 darkness,’ as Captain Webb used to say, ‘ come down upon us like wet 
 blankets ; ’ but all is not lost that is in danger. 
 
 “ I have lately been called upon to enter into a work which, without 
 giving me a groat, may employ the rest of my days. Some benevolent 
 persons, chiefly ladies, some of them not at all known to me, have begged 
 me to undertake the establishment of charity schools in those parts of 
 Ireland, where neither the Methodists, nor any other, have set their foot. 
 Now, the district where you and I were — Port Rush^ and all its vicinity, 
 where I proclaimed Jesus when but a little boy, has neither Sunday nor 
 day-school, nor a place of worship of any kind. These schools I am now 
 beginning ; and there we shall open a school, under Methodist direction, 
 
PART VI. — SECTION V. 
 
 255 
 
 on the 25th. Already nearly £400 are offered to me for the work. 
 There shall I turn my face, please God, as soon as the weather permits. 
 Wishing you every blessing of all short and long days for a century to 
 come, I am, dear Everett, Your’s affectionately, — Adam Clarke, 
 
 u p — I have thought of requesting you to turn your attention to 
 
 the malevolent attack, in the number for August, of the . The 
 
 review is constructed for the purpose of exciting prejudice. Some one 
 has published a pamphlet on it, dated in Liverpool, signed ‘Josephus,' 
 but I know not who, nor even guess.” 
 
 In the early part of 1831, Peter Jones, a chief of the Chippeway tribe 
 of Indians, whose native name was Kahkewaquonaby, was introduced to 
 the notice and friendship of Dr. Clarke, by a recommendatory letter from 
 the Rev. Wm. Case, a Wesleyan Missionary in Upper Canada. This 
 chief was one of the first converts of the Chippeway nation ; and had 
 been employed in the wilderness, in pointing the wild men of the woods 
 to the cross of Christ. One object of his visit was, to solicit donations 
 for the cause of Missions among the Indians ; and another was, to present 
 portions of the Hew Testament to the British and Foreign Bible Society 
 for publication, which he had translated into the Chippeway; in the 
 prosecution of which he had derived essential service from Dr. Clarke’s 
 Commentary, being ignorant of the Greek, and for which he was anxious 
 to tender his acknowledgments to the Doctor in person. To both the 
 preaching and private conversations of this excellent man, the biographer 
 has listened with unmixed pleasure, as well as to the ministrations of 
 John Sundys, another Indian chief. Many of their traditional tales were 
 distinguished for wild sublimity, and never failed to interest the heart 
 and enchain the attention. 
 
 A gentleman from the United States — not in companionship with 
 Mr. Jones — called on the Doctor at Haydon Hall, and expatiated, in the 
 course of conversation, in a somewhat grandiloquent style, on the success 
 of his (the Doctor’s) Notes in America — the successive editions of the 
 work — and the immense sums of money realized by it ; anticipating some 
 expression of pleasure in return : but no ; the commentator drily inquired, 
 — “ Have they asked my leave to do so ? and is it honest, in any person 
 professing religion, to do it without my grant ? ” The gentleman instantly 
 descended from his heights, whither he had been soaring in full expecta- 
 tion that the mind of his auditor had been caught up with him, and was 
 not a little relieved by a change of subject. The truth is, as appears 
 from various conversational notes made on different occasions, that a 
 sharp correspondence had passed between the Doctor and the American 
 publishers, on that subject. 
 
 On congratulating a friend on her birthday, he made some beautiful 
 and appropriate reflections on the hilarity which such occasions give rise 
 
256 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 to ; but, on forgetting the precise day, while he remembered the month, 
 he observed, that he wished her an Asiatic benediction, which was, “May 
 your shadow be extended for ever ! ” and which he thus interpreted ; — 
 “ May you have plenty for yourself, — and power, influence, and wealth, 
 sufficient to protect and foster others subjoining, — “ Let any of your 
 
 friends go rationally farther, and I will try to send at least my wishes 
 and prayers farther, and thus not permit any of them to outstrip me.’’ 
 
 Circumstances of a literary character having occurred to induce the 
 Doctor to request the writer to pay another visit to Haydon Hall, a more 
 ample opportunity than even the one just noticed was afforded, for the 
 purpose of going over the literary and other treasures of which the owner 
 of the residence had to boast : and here, without again drawing upon the 
 reader’s attention, a few remarks will close this part of the subject. 
 
 1. Library : (1.) Printed Worhs. To this, four rooms were appro- 
 priated, exclusive of a dressing-room, which occupied the surplus stock. 
 The Doctor was somewhat chary in admitting strangers into the MS. 
 department, as he had found to his cost, that some of the MSS. had 
 suffered injury by careless hands. In printed works, in folio, quarto, 
 and octavo, et infra, there could not be less, on a rough calculation, 
 exclusive of MSS., than from eight to ten thousand volumes : and this 
 calculation is supported by the sale catalogue afterwards made, which 
 embraced several lots not specified, as well as exclusive of works bequeathed 
 to private friends, and others retained by the family. The shelves occa- 
 sionally exhibited two or three editions of the same work, representing 
 the proprietor in the light of a collector. Viewing the number of classic 
 authors, especially those of Greece and Dome, in their original tongues, 
 and also works in other languages, it might be pronounced to have been 
 one of the most scholar- like private libraries of modern times, collected in 
 the space of about fifty years, by the- efforts of one single man, in far 
 from affluent circumstances, and in a situation equally unfriendly, in 
 consequence of frequent removals from place to place, to an accumulated 
 stock. One thought could not but force itself on an ordinary observer, 
 and that was, the small proportion, for the library of an English divine, 
 of English theological writers. The works of some of our most popular 
 divines, among general readers, were not to be found. Of sermons 
 especially, there was next to a dearth. The secret of this was traced by 
 the writer to the Doctor’s own mode of sermonizing, which was dissimilar 
 from that of most men, he refusing to be led by either a national divinity or 
 national prejudice. He was a child of liberty ; he would submit to no 
 fetters that the Bible itself did not impose. But, on glancing the eye 
 along the shelves, the pure Word of God was to be found, in its original 
 tongues, and almost every other work, whether of criticism^ history^ or 
 what else, that in any way tended to illustrate its pages. The fountain 
 and the stream were seen in every direction ; the latter not systematized 
 
PART VI.— SECTION V. 
 
 257 
 
 in sermons and bodies of divinity, but in the tomes of the greatest scholars 
 and most accurate critics. The owner of the lore never appeared before 
 his auditors or readers, in the systematic trammels imposed by his country- 
 men — in the shape and costume that characterised the generality of his 
 compeers in the ministerial work, as cut out for them by their brethren 
 and predecessors : his preaching partook of his library, and, like his 
 Commentary, was as unlike Benson’s, Henry’s, and others — each excel- 
 lent in their way — as it was possible to be. Drawing perpetually from 
 the fountain head, from original classic authors, and from his own original 
 intellectual resources, he was ever new, rich, bold, and varied. A few 
 stray works had crept in among the mass — such as Paine’s “ Bights of 
 Man,” Byron’s Don Juan,” and Babelais,” and a few on matrimony, 
 which might have been spared ; but it is possible that some of them might 
 have found their way to the shelves, as much from accident as from 
 choice, having been bought in lots, or through a desire to test the intellect 
 and argument of the author, rather than to tolerate his errors, and which 
 could not well be separated from their companions, till the time of weed- 
 ing set in. How, with his slender means to start with, and his often 
 comparatively straitened means at different periods of life, he became 
 possessed of works of such value,* was matter of astonishment to many, 
 
 * The prices which some of the works afterwards brought, when the library was 
 sold by Evans, 93, Pall Mall, London, 1833, may be matter of curiosity to the biblio- 
 manist : — Aristotle's Works, with copious elucidations from the Greek commentators, 
 by Taylor, 9 vols., only fifty copies printed, £16 ; — Abulfscdac Annales Muslemici, 
 Arabice et Latine, a Eeiskio, 5 vols., uncut, Hafn, 1789, £8; — Athanasii Opera Omnia, 
 Gr. et Lat. Editio Benedictina, 3 vols., best edition, fine copy, scarce. Par. 1698, £7 18s. ; 
 — Augustini Opera, Editio Benedictina, 11 vols. in 8, best edition, Paris, 1679 ; Appendix 
 Augustiniana, Notis Clerici, Antverp, 1703, in all 12 vols. in 9, fine, £19; — Chinese 
 Imperial Dictionary, composed by order of the Emperor Kang Hi, about the year 1717, 
 printed in Chinese characters on Chinese paper, in 4 cases, £7 7s. Auctores Classici 
 Graeci, in all 63 vols., in vellum, £22 Is. ; — Auctores Classici Latini, in all 115 vols., 
 uniformly bound in vellum,"£20 ; — Archseologia, or Tracts published by the Society of 
 Antiquaries, in all 25 vols. , plates, uncut, £24 j — Anglicarum Rerum Scriptores, a Gala 
 et Fell, 3 vols., russia, Oxon, 1684, £11 11s. Andersoni Thesaurus Diplomatum et 
 Numismatum Scotiae, edente Eudimanno, plates, in russia, Edinb. 1739, £12 12s. ; — 
 Biblia Sacra Pollyglotta, Hebraice, Chaldaice, Graece, et Latine, nunc primum Impressa, 
 bound in red morocco, gilt leaves, Compluti, 1514 — 17, £42,— Biblia Sacra Polyglotta, 
 Hebraice, Chaldaice, Graece, et Latine, una cum No. Test., Versione Syriaca, Philippi II. 
 jessu edita et impressa; Studio Montani, 8 vols., Antv. Plantin. 1569—72, £24 3s.; — 
 Biblia Sacra Polyglotta, Hebraica, Samaritana, Chaldaica, Graeca, Syriaca, et Latina, 
 Edente le Jay, 10 vols , bound in russia, Paris 1645—48, £21; — Biblia Sacra Polj’-glotta, 
 Edente Walton, et Castelli Lexicon, bound in Russia, with joints and gilt leaves, ruled 
 with red leaves by Dr. A Clarke, London, 1656, £57 15s. ; — Biblia Hebraica, Heb. et 
 Lat., cum notis criticis, editit Houbigant, 4 vols., Paris, 1753, £8 18s. 6d. ; Vetus Testa- 
 mentum Hebraicum, cum variis Lectionibus, edidit Kennicott, 2 vols., Oxon, 1776, 
 £8 18s. 6d. ; — Biblia Sacra Arabica, edente Carlyle, large paper, only twelve copies 
 printed, Newcastle-on-Time, 1811, £18;— French Chronicles, viz., Froissart’s, Mon- 
 trelet’s, and Joinvilie’s Memoirs, by Johnes, in all 12 vols., £16 ; Biblia Sacra Latina, 
 
 2 vols., a very early and extremely rare edition. Argent Eggesteyn, circa 1468, £48; — 
 Holy Bible, Biblia ; the first complete edition of the English Bible, by Miles Coverdale ; 
 a book of great rarity, 1535, £63;— Holy Bible, Taverner’s, with Preface by Becke, 
 VOL. II. R 
 
258 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 and might be matter of curiosity to most. A solution seemed to offer itsell 
 in the following particulars : — first, after he became an author, his pen 
 often furnished him with the “ needful : ” secondly, he was always on the 
 look out ; and his itinerant life threw him often in the way of works, 
 which, by a fixed residence, he would never have seen : thirdly, his talents 
 and character procured him many friends, and he had works occasionally 
 presented to him : fourthly, he was the warm friend of William Baynes, 
 Bookseller, Paternoster Row ; Baynes felt it, and was in some instances 
 his publisher ; and, being in the habit of visiting the Continent, and 
 purchasing largely, and often cheaply, valuable foreign works, he felt a 
 pleasure in giving the Doctor the first chance of selection, without being 
 at all exorbitant in his charges. The careful and judicious purchases of 
 forty or fifty years, with even moderate means, are sure to tell a tale in 
 real value, as well as in magnitude : but still, it was in the rarity, rather 
 than the number of the works, that the library was to be estimated. 
 
 1549, £26 10s.; — Holy Bible, Cranmer’s, Rouen, 1566, £12 5s.; — Byzantinse Historiae 
 Scriptores Praecipui, Greece et Datine, a Variis Editoribus, emendati et notis illustrati, 
 23 vols, in 26, bound in vellum, Venetiis, 1729 — 33, £19 19s. ; — Bocharti Opera Omnia, 
 edentibus Leusdeno et Villemandy, 3 vols., inrussia, L. Bat. 1692, £14 4s. ; — Clirisostoini 
 Opera Omnia, Gr. et Lat. edente, Montfaucon, Editio Benedictina, 13 vols., scarce, 
 Paris, 1718, £26; — Concilia Magnae Britannise et Hibemiae, edente Wilkins, 4 vols.. 
 scarce, Lond., 1737, £9 18s. : — Constantini Lexicon, Graec6-Latinum, fine, 1592, £8 ; — 
 Dumont, Corp’s Universal Diplomatique, &c., in all 16 vols., bound in 17, old French, 
 red morocco, gilt leaves, £30; — Ducange Glossarium ad Scriptores Mediae et Infimae 
 Latinitatis, cum Supplemento Carpentierii, 10 vols., fine set, russia, Paris, 1733, 
 £15 15s. ; — Edmonson’s complete Body of Heraldry, 2 vols, 1780, £7 ; — Ercolano 
 AnticMta, 9 vols., 1757, £9 17s. : — Sanctorum Patrum Greecorum Opera, Gr. et Lat, 
 15 vols., Wirceb., 1777; S. Patrum Latinorum Opera, 9 vols., Wirceb., 1780 £9 15s.;— 
 Harleian Miscellany, by Park, 10 vols., 1808, £7 7s. ;— Hamilton’s Hedaya, or Commen- 
 tary on the Mussulman Laws, 4 vols., very scarce, 1791, £9 9s. ; - Grand Collection of 
 Greek, Roman, Italian, and Sicilian Antiquities, in all 80 vols., best editions, plates, 
 fine set, uniformly bound in vellum, £55 ,— S. Hieronymi Opera, Editio Benedictina, 
 5 vols., Paris, 1693, £8 15s. ; Horatii Opera, numerous plates Argent Gruninger, 1498> 
 £3 3s. ; — S. Hieronymi Epistolae, extremely rare, printed by Mentelin about the year 
 1468, red morocco, £9 12s.; — Hickes, Thesaurus Vet. Linguarum Septentrionalium, 
 8 vols., middle paper, 1705, £7; — Morrison’s Chinese and English Dictionary, £9; — 
 Mac Curtin’s English-Irish Dictionary, Par., 1732, £5 ;— Philosophical Transactions at 
 large of the Royal Society, 103, vols. in 110, £52 10s. ;— Plato’s Works, by Sydenham 
 and Taylor, with copious notes, russia, gilt leaves, 1804, £11 11s. ; Plutarchi Moralia, 
 Gr. et Lat., edente Wyttenbach, 5 vols., in russia, 1795, £4 ;— Montfaucon, Antiquite 
 Expliquee et Represent^e en Figures, avec le Supplement, 15 vols., best edition, large 
 paper, Paris, 1719—24, £16 ;— Montfaucon, Monumens de la Monarchic Francoise, 
 5 vols., large paper, Paris, 1729, £21 Larramendi, Dictionario Castellano, Bascuencey 
 Latin, 2 vols. in 1, very rare, San Sebast., 1745, £5 7s. 6d. ; Milis Repertorium, Juris 
 Canonici, russia, gilt leaves, Lov. per J. de Westfalia, 1475, £3 3s. ; — Richardson’s 
 Persian Arabic, and English Diet., by Wilkins, 2 vols., 1806, £3 19s. ; — N. Testamentum 
 Graece, a Gerbelio, scarce edition, red morocco, Hagen, 1621, £3 7s. ;— Novum Testa- 
 mentum Grsecum, edente Griesbach, 2 vols., large paper, printed only for presents at 
 the expense of the Duke of Grafton, Hal. Sax., 1796, £7; New Testament, translated 
 by Tyndall, a rare edition, imprynted by Tylle, 1548, £26 15s. 6d. ; — Newe Testament 
 bothe in Englysshe and Laten, of Mayster Erasmus’s translacion, rare, imprynted by 
 Powell, 1547, £10 15s. ; — Mer des Histoires, 2 vols., Paris, par le Rouge, 1488, £16 
 
PART VI. — SECTION V. 
 
 259 
 
 (2.) Manuscripts. With the exception of a very few volumes, the 
 whole of the manuscripts — of which a historical catalogue was afterwards 
 published, by the Rev. J. B. B. Clarke, the Doctor’s youngest son, in a 
 beautifully printed and embellished royal 8vo. volume, pp. 236, — were 
 collected as there stated, during occupations of unceasing and absorbing 
 mental labour, peculiarly unfavourable to such an object ; — but a wise 
 man’s eyes wander into every part, and a watchful, and skilful collector 
 can overcome all obstacles, and is capable of realising almost incredible 
 results. As no attempt had been made by the Doctor to form a collection 
 with reference to particular portions of literature or science, no classifica- 
 tion, of course, of the MSS. had been made, further than dividing them 
 into European and Oriental, the subjects being so miscellaneous, that 
 subdivisions, according to the contents of each manuscript, would have 
 been inconveniently and uselessly numerous. Of these manuscripts, 625 
 in number, and some of them in two and three volumes, 281 were Euro- 
 
 Meninski, Thesaurus Linguarum Orientalium, Institutioues, et Complementum 
 Thesauri, 5 vols. in 4, Vien., 1680, £17 6s. 6d. ;~Origenis Opera, Gr. et Lat., a Dela Rue, 
 Editio Benedictina, 4 vols., Paris, 1733, £5 Purchas his Pilgrimes and Pilgrimage, 
 5 vols., very rare, 1625, £27 10s. Philo-Judseus, Gr. et Lat., 2 vols., Amst., 1742, 
 £5 17s. 6d. ; — Patres Apostolici, Gr. et Lat., edente Cotolerio, 2 vols., best edition, 
 Amst., 1724, £5; — Passerii Picturse Etruscorum in Vasculis, Dissertationibus Elustratse, 
 3 ’vols, Romas, 1767, £5 15s. ; — Scholtz, Lexicon JEgyptiaco-Latinum, et Grammatica- 
 iEgyptiaca, 1775 — 78, £3 12s. ^ — Roderici Zamorensis Speculum Humanas Vitas, Paris, 
 printed by Ulric Gering, in the Sorbonne, about 1472, £7 7s. ; — Roderici Zamorensis 
 Speculum Humanas Salutis, first edition, Romas, Sweynheym et Pannartz, 1468, £15 15s. ; 
 — Stuart’s Antiquities of Athens, 3 vols., original edition, 1762, £11; — Sadee’s Persian 
 and Arabic Works, 2 vols., Calcutta, 1791, £5 10s. ; — Stephani Thesaurus Linguae Graece, 
 cum Glossariis et Appendice Scotti, 7 vols., large paper, russia, Ap. H. Steph., 1532, et 
 Lond., 1745, £19 19s. ; — Scapulae Lexicon Graeco-Latinum, Lond., (Elzev.,) 1652, Burneii. 
 Appendix ad Scapulae Lexicon, Lond., 1789, 2 vols. in 1, £4; — Somneri Dictionarium 
 Saxonico-Latino-Anglicum, rare, Oxon, 1659, £5 17s. ; — Ditto, £7 ; — Schilteri Thesaurus 
 Antiquatatum Teutonicarum Ecclesiasticarum, Civilium et Literariarum, 3 vols., Ulm, 
 1728, £5 5s. Snorii Historia Regum Norvegicorum, edente Schoning, 4 vols., Haun., 
 1777, £4 10s. Seldeni Opera, 6 vols., 1726, £4 Is. Scheuchzeri Physica Sacra, £4 12s. ; 
 — Schedel, Chronicon Nurembergense, above 1,000 wood-cuts, 1493, £3 3s. ; — Thurloe’s 
 Collection of State Papers, 7 vols., 1742, £8; — Testamentum Graecum Polyglottum, 
 edente Huttero, 2 vols., Norib., 1599, £6 10s. Novum Testamentum Graecum, Gr. et 
 Lat., Erasmi, first edition, very rare, Basil, 1516, £5 N. Testamentum Graecum, edente 
 Wetstenio, 2 vols., russia, Amst., 1751, £7 15s. ; — Taylor’s Hebrew Concordance, russia, 
 1754, £7 17s. 6d. ; — Tractatus Universi Juris in cum Congesti, 28 vols., Ven. Zilettus, 
 1584, £18 18s Torfaei Historia Norvegica, 4 vols., Hafn, 1711, £3 10s. Ware’s History 
 of Ireland, and Lives of its Bishops, portraits inserted, 2 vols., 1739, £7. A magnificent 
 collection of Chinese drawings sold for £69, and Holloway’s Cartoons for £27 6s. 
 
 The library of printed books commanded ten days’ sale^ Feb. 18 — 28, 1833, and pro- 
 duced £.3,200, being about £500 more than was anticipated, in 2,101 lots. Erasmus’s 
 New Testament, for which the Doctor gave Is., brought £10 15s. : Mr. Offer, who was 
 present, left the room, and purchased another copy for 30s. The prices were, in many 
 instances, arbitrary ; some too high, others too low. Each day’s sale was kept up with 
 amazing spirit, and furnished many amusing incidents. The whole collection furnished 
 an extraordinary instance of unwearied diligence and perseverance, worthy even of 
 episcopalian imitation : but bishops, in the present day, are not ardent collectors of 
 books. 
 
 R 2 
 
260 
 
 ADAM CLAHKE. 
 
 pean, embracing, as to subject and language, Hebrew, Greek, Icelandic, 
 Irish, French, Italian, &c. : comprising classics, grammars, vocabularies, 
 missals, breviaries, versions, portions of, and commentaries on, the Scrip- 
 tures; and others treating on alchymy, philosophy, theology, history, 
 heraldry, poetry, &c. The Asiatic department was still more rich and 
 varied : in addition to Hebrew and Greek manuscripts, there were others 
 under several heads of Persian, Arabic, Syriac, Armenian, Singalese, 
 Pali, Sanscreet, &c., &c. ; comprising, with several of the others, as to 
 their contents, — in addition to alchymy, philosophy, history, poetry, 
 theology, and versions of the Scriptures, — astrology, medicine, tales and 
 romances, korans, law, &c. A more minute description of them may be 
 subjoined in a note, collected from the “ Historical and Descriptive Cata- 
 logue” aheady referred to, together with the advertisements connected 
 with the sale, the writers of both of which had, in addition to their own 
 skill in such matters, the minute inspection and experience of the Doctor 
 for a guide.* 
 
 * In the European department, the MSS. connected with the history and heraldry of 
 England, and of the Low Countries, &c., were particularly interesting and curious, as 
 consisting of statutes, charters, &c., and as throwing considerable light upon various 
 historical incidents connected with this and other countries. The missals, breviaries, 
 Ifieures, &c., were many of them most beautiful specimens of caligrapky and tasteful 
 illumination 5 proving that our ancestors, at least, however mistaken they might some- 
 times have been in their piety, did not strive to serve their God with that which had 
 cost them nought. The copies of the Vulgate were numerous ; and the various readings 
 were of the more consequence, because contained in MSS. upon the composition of 
 which such evident care and industry had been lavished. Several of the Irish MSS. 
 were of great age, and, like most Irish MSS., had suffered more from carelessness and 
 neglect than from time. Their chief curiosity consisted in the insight they gave into 
 the early literature of that people. The Icelandic MSS. were a most singular, and there- 
 fore invaluable, (some of them unique,) collection of the songs, legends, tales, history, 
 and religion of the north of Europe, abounding in wild poetic imagery and deep natural 
 feeling, and were the sources whence much of the spirit of our own sterling popular 
 literature had indirectly flowed. With two or three exceptions, the remainder of these 
 miscellaneous MSS. had their peculiar value, arising from their subject, age, execution, 
 ornament, or some circumstance connected with their history. It would be difficult to 
 conceive, on the testimony of the best judges, anything more splendid than many of the 
 Arabic and Persian MSS. ; the labour of a life appearing, in some instances, inadequate 
 to produce such results. This excellence chiefly arose from so few of them being very 
 modern ; since the rule is pretty general, that, the older are the MSS., the clearer and 
 more beautiful is the writing, and the ornaments more elegant and elaborate. This 
 rule is maintained as holding good as well with European as Asiatic MSS. But, in 
 addition to the purity of the writing, another very great advantage arises from their 
 age, and that is, the much greater correctness of the text, as not only being written 
 nearer to the author’s own time, before numerous transcripts had multiplied mistakes, 
 but, as being executed when only learned natives were the purchasers, and not imper- 
 fectly skilled Europeans, by whom incorectness would be less readily discovered ; and, 
 what will render well-executed MSS. exceedingly scarce, before the pi'ess had at all 
 injured the race of scientific and able scribes, whose office must be ultimately destroyed 
 by the cheapness and facility of printing. The oldest of the Asiatic MSS. were written 
 A. D. 1024, 1490, and one written prior to these dates ; but the far greater portion bore 
 the dates of the 16th and 17th centuries, few being written in the 18th, and scarcely 
 any of them so late as the present century. This is a characteristic deemed worthy of 
 
PART VI.— SECTION V. 
 
 261 
 
 2. The Museum. In the museum were to be found ancient monu- 
 ments and mosaics ; including an ancient Greek inscription to the 
 memory of Tiberius Claudius Theophilus, the son of Tiberius Claudius 
 Themistocles, of Besa ; an ancient Greek inscription to the memo|8y of 
 Melanchomas, a priest; a curious and interesting Persian inscription, 
 taken from Fort Amboor, then in the possession of Hyder Aly ; the 
 Extacy of St. Francis, a very curious mosaic ; and a dead Christ 
 attended by angels, executed in the Italian school of painting. To these 
 
 attention by the literati, because it designates such MSS. as the source whence correct 
 texts may be formed, and thus such authors as Khosroo, Saeeb, Hafiz, Anvery, 
 Khakany, Oorfy, Jelaluddeen, Sady, may pour forth the music of their matchless verse, 
 without the jarring discords created by ignorant copyists. The whole of the Korans 
 were beautifully written, and some were superb. There was scarcely one of the MSS. 
 in the collection which was an instance of careless penmanship ; most of them having, 
 evidently been the work of skilful and well- taught scribes, and some of them were the 
 highest efforts of the reed. The condition of the MSS. could not be well exceeded. 
 Where, in some instances, the worm, or the damp, or two heavy a hand in ruling, had 
 in any way damaged a volume, it had been most carefully and neatly rei>aired, paper of 
 the same sort being used to mend it, and stained to the colour of the original : the toil 
 which this had sometimes occasioned, few can conceive ; the patience and care requisite 
 for the task, still fewer would be capable of exerting : but the reparation was complete ; 
 and some which had been in a state of absolute decay, had been raised from their ruins, 
 and were, when examined, singularly fine specimens of valuable works. It is stated, as 
 a remarkable fact, that the damage peculiarly incident to oriental MSS. very rarely 
 extends to the ; hence, care has frequently restored a MS, from an apparently 
 
 hopeless state, to integrity, and almost pristine beauty. A Persian MS. has been known 
 to be pierced through in millions of places by the worm, and, unless held up to the 
 light, the damage could not be perceived: in scarcely any instance had the animal 
 passed through a single letter, something in the ink in all probability having turned 
 aside its attacks from the writing. Not only in the original purchase of these MSS. 
 had amazing expense been incurred, but in the expensive and splendid style in which a 
 great proportion of them was bound, so that they formed a truly magnificent collection. 
 The Hebrew and Syriac MSS. were held in more than ordinary authority, and one con- 
 ceived to be of the very first importance. The Paintings were curious, as giving an 
 insight into the manners, customs, and scenery of a remarkable people and a strange 
 land : this was particularly the case with the Chinese paintings, which possessed a 
 brilliancy of colouring and a skill of execution which had hardly been supposed to belong 
 to Chinese drawing, a considerable knowledge of perspective being evinced by the views 
 of their temples, &c. The Singalese, Pali, and Sanscreet MSS. were not amongst the least 
 curious, as some of the works were rare, if not unique, in Europe ; and others of them 
 threw much light on the Buddhu religion and its usages. 
 
 This collection was left by Dr. Clarke to his youngest son, who, after describing the 
 MSS., in Dec. 14, 1834, observed, — “I have frequently thought that such an unknown 
 individual as myself was not the one most fitted to be the possessor of such a collec- 
 tion : it would be a most noble addition to even the best and most extensive MS. library 
 in the country, whether public or private : and it is possible that the following three 
 united circumstances may shortly separate them and their present owner, — a want cf 
 time to use, an inability to increase them, and my being apparently born only to occupy 
 heavy curacies."’ These MSS., which were afterwards sold by Sotheby and Son, 
 Wellington Street, London, June 20 — 24, 1836— embracing four days, realised £1,804 5s. 
 The famous MS. Bible, translated into the English language by Wiclif, in 2 vols., 
 fetched £100. Since then, the elevation of the reverend gentleman to a prebend in 
 one of our cathedrals, shows that he was “born to” something more than that of 
 “ occupying heavy curacies.” 
 
262 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 may be added, a valuable collection of minerals, among which were found 
 some rare specimens of metals, fluors, and precious stones ; — a collection 
 of coins, in gold, silver, and copper, including fine impressions of ancient 
 and modern Greek, the upper and lower Koman empire, French, English, 
 and other Europeans, a few coronation and oriental metals, a complete 
 set of the zodiac rupees, &c. ; — a cabinet, containiog a very large collec- 
 tion of red sulphur casts from the antique ; Indian, Burmese, Egyptian, 
 and Chinese idols and figures, in bronze, stone, and wood ; — numerous 
 Chinese drawings and paintings ; — Hebrew rolls, Singalese and Persian 
 MSS., apart from the collection already specified ; — several fac similes of 
 ancient charters, maps, and charts ; — an inlaid Florence table ; — a 
 powerful five feet telescope, by Holland ; — a capital sextant, by Jones; — 
 two magnets : — an instrument to illustrate a series of lectures on 
 mechanics; — model of a steam carriage; — large compass, Hadley’s 
 quadrant, &c.* To be allowed to go through such collections, with the 
 Doctor himself by the side of the curious inquirer, accompanied with 
 comments, illustrations, historical facts, characteristic notices, and occa - 
 sional piquant remarks, was no common privilege. 
 
 The Doctor, being anxious at this time to carry out his plans in 
 reference to the Irish schools, left London for Ireland, March 24 ; taking 
 Bruerton, in Staffordshire, on his way, and preaching successively at 
 Stafford, Burslem, and Woodside, across the Mersey, at Liverpool. He 
 entered on board the Chieftain steam -packet, in company with his friend 
 F. H. Holdcroft, Esq., April 8, and, after a voyage of seventeen hours, 
 landed on the pier at Belfast. After preaching in the chapel at Donegal 
 Square on the 10th, he proceeded to Antrim, and thence to Coleraine, 
 Port Stuart, Port Rush, Cashel, Croagh, Billy, Diamond, Tobercarr, 
 Ballyclare, and other places, where schools were either established or pro- 
 posed, minutely examining the necessities of the places, and frequently 
 preaching to the people. His labour was unusually severe, and his mode 
 of travelling, in one of the open Irish jaunting cars — playfully denomi- 
 nated by him, “ Jumping cars, or bone-setters,” was far from agreeable ; 
 especially taken in connection with the colder season of the year. He 
 hoped, in the early part of his labour, to be able to embody, at least, 600 
 poor children, arranged in six different schools, under able and excellent 
 teachers. His plan was, to travel over hill and dale to the most destitute 
 places, in districts of several miles in extent, in which not a school of any 
 kind existed, or had ever been known to exist, and where, on canvassing 
 the places, ‘Hhe poor people,” in his own laoguage, “both Popish and 
 Protestant, were, like true sons of Erin — red hot — mad — glad — to hear 
 that their children might, without money and without price, be taught to 
 
 * The Museum was afterwards sold by Machin, Debenham and Storr, 26, King 
 Street, Covent Garden, on Friday and Saturday, i^.pril 26 and 27, 1833, embracing two 
 days’ sale. 
 
PART VI. — SECTION V. 
 
 263 
 
 read, spell, and write their own names ; and where they at last found, 
 that there was neither religion, devotion, nor common sense, in sheer igno- 
 rance : ” continuing, “ Charter Schools, Kilkenny Schools, Methodist 
 Missionary Schools, Hibernian Schools, &c., if they ever came where these 
 districts are, like the priest and Levite, they might have looked on, but 
 they passed by on the other side.” On unfolding his design, the people 
 generally expressed an ardent desire to have a school. A day was then 
 fixed to meet the parents and children, who, at the appointed time, were 
 seen streaming down the hills and over the bogs, from two to three miles 
 distant — east — west — north — and south. The fathers of the children 
 were rarely present, being engaged at home, planting potatoes. The 
 place of meeting being as central as possible, the Doctor first addressed 
 the mothers, not one in a hundred of whom had a bonnet, and most 
 without either shoes or stockings. His prime object was to impress them 
 with the importance of Education ; showing them the necessity of being 
 able to read the Scriptures, and that the object before them was, to teach 
 the children to fear God, to forsake lying, swearing fighting, &c., to keep 
 the Sabbath, to reverence and obey their parents, to be grateful to their 
 benefactors, and so, by industry and frugality, be able to procure honest 
 and wholesome bread, and become useful and respectable members of 
 society. He next turned to the children, and gave them suitable advice, 
 urging upon them good behaviour, punctuality and cleanliness. That 
 being ended, he introduced to their notice the teacher, whom he took the 
 precaution to have decently clothed, telling them, that he would teach 
 them to fear God, read, write, and cipher, free of cost. When these pre- 
 liminaries were fixed, he then admitted the children into the school, laid 
 his hands — in true apostolic style — on their heads, blessed them, prayed 
 with them, and gave them some parting advices ; the whole of the children 
 dispersing with the understanding, that they would have to meet the 
 next morning, precisely at nine o’clock. In this way, on one occasion, 
 he admitted 133 children into school, from four to fourteen years of age, 
 not one of whom had, like most of their parents, either shoe or stocking ; 
 and it must not be omitted, that this was sometimes done in the open air. 
 
 In one place, a dissenting minister, employing his influence with the 
 vicar, to root the Wesley ans out of the parish, the worthy vicar, instead 
 of yielding to his persuasions, stated his determination to encourage them, 
 and paid the Doctor a friendly visit. Being a man of an amiable temper, 
 and having a sweet voice, he read to the Doctor some of his poetical 
 compositions, and sang him some of his verses ; to each of which as much 
 complacency was shown, in consequence of the kindly feeling manifested 
 towards the schools, as for the poet and the songster. The Doctor, after 
 nine weeks’ absence from home, landed from the Hibernia steam-packet, 
 at Liverpool, on Whit Sunday, May 22nd. 
 
 A little caution was necessary, in order to prevent jealousy from 
 
264 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 creeping into a quarter from which he was anxious to steer clear, and in 
 connection with which it was his desire to move in harmony. Previously 
 to this, the Wesleyan Missionary Society had established schools in Ire- 
 land, and it having been reported that he had solicited subscriptions from 
 various friends, fear was excited lest the one should impoverish the 
 resources of the other ; the consequence of which was, that a Eesolution 
 was entered into by the Missionary Committee, directing the attention of 
 the Conference to the subject, which resolution was submitted to the 
 Doctor by Dr. Townley, one of the general secretaries. On showing the 
 biographer Dr. Townley’s letter and his reply to it. Dr. Clarke observed, 
 “ Up to this time, only three persons have contributed ; from no one have 
 I, as yet, solicited a single fraction ; and to one of the three persons, 
 whom I never saw, and never may see, I wrote expressly, to inquire 
 whether the money appropriated to the schools, would, in any shape, have 
 been given to the Methodists, and the answer was explicit — No ! ” He 
 further remarked, that he had taken the precaution to write to Mr, 
 Harpur, the superintendent of the circuit, to inquire whether the com- 
 mittee had established any schools in the contemplated districts ; and that 
 the reply was, that the School Committee had never visited those districts, 
 in consequence of a want of funds. He gave the teachers, who were all 
 local preachers, £25 per annum : they deserved much more, he remarked, 
 but as it was somewhere about the amount given by the committee, he 
 did not wish to throw a temptation in the way of any one, to leave his 
 situation for the sake of greater emolument. 
 
 Having a strong desire to see the schools again, and give all the aid in 
 his power in order to their encouragement and establishment, he left home 
 in the month of August to pay them another visit. But on reaching Liver- 
 pool, he was dissuaded by his friends from going ; they urging as so many 
 arguments in support of their entreaties, his own state of health, the 
 sudden illness of some of the party that had engaged to accompany him, 
 and the tempestuous state of the weather, during which storm, and on 
 the same coast. The Rothsay Castle was lost, with the greater number of 
 persons on board. In his own language, therefore, he had to put his 
 helm a-lee, and seek providential direction on another tack.” 
 
 The Conference was at this time holding its annual meeting in Bristol, 
 and made him a Supernumerary much against his will ; in reference to 
 which act he forwarded a remonstrance to the President ; observing, “ I 
 am not clear that I should become a Supernumerary this year ; but this 
 I must leave with my brethren. I did not go out of my own accord ; I 
 dreaded the call, and I obeyed through much fear and trembling, not 
 daring to refuse, because I felt the hand of God Almighty upon me : I 
 knew the case of Jonah, and feared the transactions of Tarshish. I will 
 NOT, THEREFORE, SET MYSELF DOWN *. for though I Cannot do full 
 work, yet I can do some : I was a local preacher when called out : 
 
PART VI. — SECTION V. 
 
 265 
 
 I am not called to degrade, in order to read for a higher title 
 than that which I have ; and a Levite past labour becomes a coun- 
 sellor, but never enters into the ranks of the Nethinim ! ” When 
 the Doctor employed the expression — ‘‘ I must leave this with my 
 brethren,” it is not to be construed into the language of acquiescence ; 
 but as one man must always yield to a hundred. That he did not wish 
 , to be made a Supernumerary, and never cousidered himself as such, is 
 evident from the fact of his having not only refused the Supernumerary 
 allowance — though he had subscribed to the Fund from the commence- 
 ment — but, when the money was sent to him (which is always done in 
 advance) having returned it to the Conference : stating that he had done 
 without it long, and he hoped he would be able to do without it to the 
 end. The unpleasant feeling occasioned, however, was not allowed to 
 settle on his mind; and on a friend adverting to it afterwards, and 
 expressing his surprise that he took it so patiently, the Doctor laughingly 
 replied, — “ I am like Pontius Pilate, — ask. What is truth ? and go away 
 without waiting for, or hearing an answer.” 
 
 The subject of the Doctor’s Supernumeracy demands a more lengthened 
 notice than has been given to it, as it stands connected with another of 
 the despicable attempts of Dr. Bunting to wound the feelings of this 
 peace-loving, disinterested, generous, unassuming, noble man. We must 
 refer our readers to a case noticed in “Methodism as it Is,” Yol. I., p. 325.^ 
 Mr. Reece’s retirement from the regular work of the ministry is there 
 mentioned. On this occasion. Dr. Bunting proposed, that a similar 
 resolution should be entered into as that in the case of Messrs. H. Moore 
 and J. Wood, in 1827. “This,” it is observed, ‘‘furnished him (Dr. 
 Bunting) with a fine opportunity of aiming an indirect blow at Dr. 
 Clarke, by stating that there was no Miss Nancyism about Mr. Reece ; 
 that having laboured 59 years, he was not disposed to indulge a foolish 
 vanity to attempt his 60th, when he felt himself inadequate to the work ; 
 Dr. Clarke having wished to complete the 50th year of his itineracy. 
 And yet Mr. Reece, whom we venerate both for age and character — 
 character, whether private or ministerial — was obliged to have help before 
 he retired. But the fact is. Dr. Bunting has long acted as though he 
 would like Dr. Clarke placed somewhere in the back-ground of Methodism, 
 and himself in the front, as the only object of admiration, and was to 
 be paid off by a side wind.” His son William had been characterised as a 
 “ nondescript Supernumerary ; ” and himself as little better than a Super- 
 numerary for a long series of years, with more than the full pay of a 
 regular preacher, and scarcely a tithe of pulpit work, with the addition of 
 Elijah Hoole to do the greater part of the indoor work for him in the 
 Mission House. The Miss Nancyism'‘'^ of the case could not be more 
 out of place, as applied to “ plain, unadorned,” Adam Clarke, than to 
 * See Appendix also, No. 2. 
 
266 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 any one preacher in the Wesleyan body, nor could the expression come 
 with worse grace from any preacher on the Itinerant list, than from Jabez 
 Bunting, who, from the first of his more public career, had been the Man- 
 Milliner of Methodism, tricking it out into— respectability. 
 
 On the present occasion matters had come to a crisis. Dr. Beaumont 
 had more than once stood up in support of Dr. Clarke ; but in this 
 instance, something in the shape of defence seemed necessary. Dr. 
 Bunting could calculate on Mr. Watson as a supporter of his schemes. 
 But, unintimidated. Dr. Beaumont braved them both, with others of the 
 party of less note. This he did, with an invincible determination to 
 pursue what he conceived to be the path of duty, as well as of friendship. 
 The question was, as already stated, whether Dr. Clarke, the great orna- 
 ment of Methodism, had been made a Supernumerary with his consent or 
 not. Dr. Beaumont knew that the measure was adopted against Dr. 
 Clarke as a mortifying insult, and that he had intimated in distinct terms 
 his reluctance to be placed in a position so humiliating. The manner in 
 which the whole thing was done and persisted in, illustrates very strikingly 
 the managing methods of Jabez Bunting, in making other men subser- 
 vient to his schemes. Mr. George Marsden had been^ President, Mr. 
 Robert Newton now held that office, and Richard Watson condescended 
 to be the great manager’s raan-of-all-work on the occasion. Why, asked 
 Dr. Beaumont, did Mr. Marsden suppress the two letters addressed to 
 him by Dr. Clarke, in order to prevent himself from being set aside like 
 a worn-out horse? One can imagine that the inquiry was made with 
 generous warmth. It suited Dr. Bunting to regard this with seeming 
 horror; and with a strong odour of sanctity, which he could at any 
 moment assume, he begged the speaker to defer so irritating a topic till 
 after the preliminary prayer meeting. The indomitable champion returned 
 to the charge with such vigour, that Mr. Naylor was put up to suggest 
 the shocking impropriety of so young a man assailing a man so aged as 
 the ex-President. This failing to intimidate. Dr. Bunting argued that 
 he had lost the right to be heard there, since he had omitted to name the 
 subject at the District Meeting,— a point in which he himself had 
 frequently offended, and never deemed himself in fault. For this imperti- 
 nence the objector received a smart hit direct in the teeth. “ Dr. Bunt- 
 ing,” retorted the gallant defender of right, “ might have his opinion, 
 but Mr. Bunting was not the Conference.” At this stage, rose slowly, 
 Edmund Grindrod, and, earning the commendation which he afterwards 
 received from the Bunting family, moved that Dr. Beaumont had broken 
 the law by coming without leave to Conference. 
 
 The carrying of this cowardly resolution silenced, for the moment, 
 even the invincible Beaumont, who had, by the way, been urged by the 
 venerable Henry Moore, and others, to attend the sittings of Conference 
 — having received intimation of the designs of Bunting and his party. 
 
PART VI. — SECTION V. 
 
 267 
 
 Now, however, Dr. Clarke took up the dropped weapons for himself, by 
 condescending to state numerous reasons, founded on his standing and his 
 services, why he ought not to have been compelled to seem to sit down 
 against his will. Next day, nothing daunted, Dr. Beaumont re-appeared 
 in his place; but he no sooner attempted to address the Conference on 
 another subject, than Bichard Watson denied his right to utter one word, 
 being, as he phrased it, “ under interdict.” Dr. Banting and his party 
 knew their man ; and, calculating on his generous indignation under a 
 sense of wrong, thus goaded him into an attitude which they might 
 characterise as one of defiance. The result was that he incurred a distinct 
 vote of censure for impropriety of conduct. When the ruling party could 
 neither answer his arguments or deny his facts, they took a mean and 
 base advantage of technical objections, and put an ignominious muzzle on 
 his mouth. First goaded and then gagged, he took up his pen and pro- 
 tested ; but President Newton contrived to do with his protest, what he 
 had done with the Jamaica Impeachment against his friend Bunting,* 
 and what President Marsden had contrived to do with Dr. Clarke’s letters, 
 “ mislaid it,” neither the letters of the one, nor the protest of the other, 
 being allowed to come before the assembly. Oh, shame — shame on you, 
 holy men, to play such tricks after the solemnities of a Conference 
 Prayer-meeting before which the tender and hallowed spirit of a 
 Bunting shrank back with horror at the thought of a single word being- 
 uttered to ruffle the devotional spirit of the Brethren I Jabez Bunting 
 secured his object, as to the Supernumeracy of Dr. Clarke ; but it was with- 
 out removing him from his altitude, or adding the tenth of an inch to his 
 own stature. He himself, if we are to look at his pulpit and other work 
 as a ‘‘ Travelling Preacher,” ought to have been superannuated many years 
 before this period ; and even when less able to work, he retained all his 
 honours, besides being richly provisioned and housed. Adam Clarke, to 
 the last, was a labourer^ not a mere appendage or “hanger on,” in the 
 vineyard of his God. And what is to be said of Richard Watson, 
 with his many noble qualities, when looking at the vacillations f con- 
 nected with his early history? Adam Clarke, on the other hand, 
 neither turned to the right nor to the left. He was the same un- 
 
 * See “Methodism as it Is,” Vol. I., p. 552, where Dr. Bunting is represented, 
 while attempting to defend himself against certain charges, calling for his Accusers, at 
 a time he knew he had no one to fear ; parties being as little disposed to come forward 
 at the time as Robert Newton, seated by his side on the Conference platform, with an 
 Impeachment against him, in his pocket, from Jamaica, basely concealing it, to screen 
 him from the charges, and from impending danger — a fact known to both the President 
 and Dr. Bunting himself ; the Rev. J. Manley, one of the Missionaries on the Jamaica 
 station, being in England, and ready to substantiate the charges preferred. 
 
 t “Methodism as it Is,” Vol. I., chap. 5, &c., presents a humiliating picture of this 
 otherwise noble man, as well as enters minutely, faithfully, critically, and largely into 
 the policy and character of Jabez Bunting, laying bare his intrigues, duplicity, ambition, 
 self-seeking, and despotism, in the whole of which the reader will be able to realise a 
 full-length portrait of the real Life of the governing Head of Modern Methodism. 
 
268 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 flinching adherent of John Wesley’s Methodism, from first to last. He 
 was entitled to the highest honours and privileges the Conference could 
 confer. This was the last of the less covert insults of Jabez Bunting 
 offered to this good man, barring what followed, when out of reach, — 
 having prevented, during his own life, any formal official life of Dr. Clarke, 
 authorized by the Conference, beyond a mere obituary for the Minutes, 
 common to the ministerial brethren, and tried to damage, as far as he could, 
 the Memoir published by the family, through the medium of the Wesleyan 
 Magazine^ by its Editor, Thomas Jackson, to say nothing of the influence he 
 exercised in the Book Committee on the subject of Dr. Clarke’s writings. 
 As the excellent Doctor was never known to come into open collision with 
 him in the Conference — leaving him to pursue his own plans, and to 
 indulge his governing tastes — lending him, at the same time, his coun- 
 tenance and aid in anything that would essentially forward the work of God 
 in Methodism — it was difficult for calm and thinking persons to resolve 
 Jabez Bunting’s conduct towards Adam Clarke to anything short of 
 sheer envy — the infirmity of essentially weak minds, the venom of the 
 reptile order of intellect. The hack that slowly draws its load can never 
 compete with the speed of the locomotive. Envy is often slow, but 
 certain. The quadruped cannot envy. 
 
 Argue as we may — let Dr. Bunting’s friends furnish what defence 
 they please for his conduct tow^ards Dr. Clarke — it is as difficult to account 
 for any proper motive for this measure as it is to perceive any beneficial 
 result likely to arise from it, except, on one side, the gratification of 
 what appeared to approach to a mahgnant feeling in a man, who, from 
 early years, had looked with coldness, envy, and jealousy upon the object 
 whom it was intended to degrade, and, on the other, the injury of 
 the person aimed at, whose only ambition was, to retain, as long as he 
 could, an honourable ministerial position in the denomination to wffiich 
 he was so sincerely and warmly attached, and to promote whose best 
 interests he had lived and laboured close on half a century. Was there 
 anything unreasonable in the wish expressed by the latter ? Had the 
 Conference no power to accede to it, or would it have been discreditable 
 to it as an act ? Would it have infringed on any direct law ? Would 
 the Connexion, or any solitary individual, have sustained the smallest 
 injury by the grant ? Had Adam Clarke been a party, or a litigious 
 man, through whom the peace and harmony of the Conference had been 
 disturbed at any time, and was likely to sustain further injury ? Had 
 the dignity and credit of the Conference never reaped any advantage from 
 his presence and his counsels ? Had he reflected no honour on the body 
 by his general character, his learning, and his labours for both Church 
 and State ? Were any of the Connexional, or other funds, likely to suffer 
 by acceding to his wish ? Had he not laboured hard for all he had 
 received from the Connexion ? Had he ever, like the prime mover of 
 
PART VI. — SECTION V. 
 
 269 
 
 the measure, found it necessary to tax the sympathies and the pockets of 
 his friends to rid himself of heavy pecuniary liabilities ? Could it ever 
 be said, that, in addition to this, a special fund was raised for him to secure 
 permanent relief, while others, in “labours more abundant,” were passed 
 by? Could it ever be said that he had £500 per annum coming in 
 from the Connexion, that he had, like Dr. Bunting,^ ever received a 
 fraction beyond the regular allowance of the feeblest of his itinerant 
 brethren ? Could it do harm as a precedent ? What, in the face of a 
 refusal to receive any benefit from either Beneficent or Legalised Fund, 
 the latter of which his own subscriptions entitled him! Talk not of 
 precedents^ and their dangers^ when you have in the prime mover of the 
 measure, a stranger to the toil and inconveniences of Itinerancy for a long 
 series of years — amply provisioned — free from house-rent and taxes, while 
 Supernumerary, to the last — high in official dignity and influence — a power, 
 whether visible or invisible, in every Connexional Committee — govern- 
 ing and disposing everything agreeably to his will ; — let such precedent, 
 we say, be followed by only one like Dr. Bunting himself, and another 
 ecclesiastical freak, like that of 1849,* will seal the doom of Methodism for 
 ever ! “ Pride,” says Calcot, “ poisoned with malice, becomes envy.” 
 
 Beferring to Scripture reading one day, he said to the writer, “ I 
 began to read the Old and Hew Covenants in January, 1830, in the two 
 languages in which they were written : the Hebrew, I collated with an 
 old English Translation ; the Greek, I read alone, and every word aloud, 
 to accustom myself to speak it regularly and correctly, — for the facility 
 of speaking either it, or any other language, would be soon lost without 
 this. I defy any one to pronounce any language properly, who only 
 reads by the eye, I thought it might be the last year I might be per- 
 mitted to go through again with the book of God ; and, if so, I would 
 take my leave of it in full. Some days I read two chapters in the Old 
 Testament, and one in the New. On other days I could not do so much ; 
 but there were some, in which I could do more, and read four or five. This 
 got me a little beforehand when I had to travel. At the Conference of 
 1830, I was a little back ; but as I rose early, I accomplished the whole 
 in the course of the year, in the midst of travelling, preaching, writing, 
 and other employment.” 
 
 His pulpit exercises were now almost exclusively confined to “ Occa- 
 sional Sermons ; ” and among other places, he visited in the autumn, 
 West Cowes, in the Isle of Wight, where be was hospitably entertained 
 by Mr. Charles Pinhorn. As he rarely spoke to any one in the vestry, 
 before preaching, or even on his way to the house of God, it was not un- 
 common to see a crowd of persons waiting his descent from the pulpit to 
 shake hands with him — one passing away to make room for others that 
 pressed around him. 
 
 ♦ See Methodism as it Is,” Vol. I., p, 234; Appendix, No. 3, p. 634. 
 
270 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 Towards the close of the year, he devoted part of his time in adding 
 to his already collected materials for a second edition of the ‘‘ Wesley 
 Family,” and had his collection enriched with various papers presented to 
 him by Miss E. T. Tooth, and others. 
 
 On the 30th of December, he thus expressed his views and feelings on 
 public affairs to the Rev. T. Smith, Classical Tutor of Hasbro’ College : 
 
 The year closing, 1831, has been to me the most eventful and trying of 
 my life ; without, fightings ; and within, fears, — often unmingled with 
 hopes. Yet, in the whole of its course, you have been present to my 
 mind ; and the welfare of yourself, your family, and your flock, have been 
 the root and blossom of many a fervent desire. It seems that the agita- 
 tion which is universal in the world, in relation to secular and political 
 affairs, is only an external manifestation of that inward and personal 
 agitation by which all individuals, of all society, whether religious or 
 social, have been exercised. Danger, want, discontent, disease, disap- 
 pointment, evil and foolish surmising, cruelty and oppression, have each 
 got a separate personification ; and with a fulness of purpose, and a fearful 
 exertion of power, have pervaded all ranks, and are continuous in their 
 exertions to confound, and ultimately destroy, aU that is civil, social, and 
 religious. I might have Included murder in the above list, for such a 
 tissue of domestic murders in a state, which one might say is more than 
 civilised, has not so extensively stained the pages of any history. Vice, 
 crime, and misery, increase ; and genuine, sober, practical religion, does 
 not, in my opinion — ^to use an American term — progress. If, through 
 mercy, we cannot yet say, ‘Abroad the sword devoureth,’ we are obliged 
 to acknowledge, ‘ At home there is death.’ Our own country is far from 
 being settled ; and as for Ireland, I think there is every appearance either 
 of a successful rebellion, or the extirpation of its inhabitants. A few men 
 have frenzied the public mind, have the pubhc conscience a keeping, and 
 are incessant in instigating the people in their aggregate body of millions 
 to deeds of darkness. Our nobility, proh dolor ! have ceased to be wise, 
 and our hierarchy seems to have committed a felo de 56, and when the 
 foundations are destroyed, what can the righteous do ! Yet all may end 
 well, if ‘ God rides on the whirlwind, and directs the storm.’ What 
 wretched work against all religion and common sense at a famous chapel 
 in London ! * Oh, what is man, when God throws the reins of rational and 
 religious restraint on the neck of the imagination ! But that is only a slight 
 symptom of the diseased state of general feeling. The Lord reigneth, be the 
 earth never so unjust ; and although clouds and darkness are round about 
 him, yet righteousness and judgment are the habitation of his throne.” 
 The feelings excited by a contemplation of the spirit of the times, 
 were not much alleviated when carried into the circle in which he himself 
 
 ♦ The chapel in which the Rev. E. Irving officiated, in which “ strange tongues ” were 
 heard. 
 
PART VI. — SECTION V. 
 
 271 
 
 more immediately moved; being called upon to sympathise with the 
 living, and lament the death of three of his friends in January, 1832, — 
 Mr. William Baynes, Bookseller; the Bev. Thomas Roberts, M.A.^ 
 Bristol ; and Robert Scott, Esq., Fensford ; — each of whom, which was 
 no small stay to the soul, died in the full triumph of faith. Of 
 Mr. Baynes, he was wont to say, that he knew a book, or a curiosity 
 at a glance, without being acquainted with its exact character ; that 
 he had rarely ever found him deceived in his estimate of what he judged 
 to be intrinsically good ; and that his tact, as well as his laborious know- 
 ledge, served him, and made him the best old bookseller in London. 
 On returning home, after praying with, and taking his leave of Mr. 
 Baynes, he was overturned in the coach, near Harrow, — the night being 
 foggy, and the coach without lamps. The coach was full of passengers 
 outside, and had one more than the complement within. The whole of 
 the luggage and outside passengers Avere projected into the ditch ; the 
 pole was broken, the windows smashed, and the coach side staved in. 
 The Doctor was much trampled upon while in the coach, and lay about 
 ten minutes, with three persons upon him, before he could be extricated 
 from his perilous situation ; after which he had to stand about an hour 
 in the rain and the mud, before he could leave the place. He then took 
 his carpet-bag in his hand, and walked from the Swan ” over the hill 
 to Harrow, where he knocked at a door, and was refused admittance, 
 though he gave his name; and thence to Pinner, where he met with 
 kindness, and an open conveyance which took him to Haydon Hall. The 
 next morning he received the tidings of Mr. Scott’s illness ; and, shook 
 and bruised as he was, took, at the earliest convenience, a coach for Bristol, 
 and thence to Fensford, where he watched over his dying friend, till he 
 entered the paradise of God.* He died in the eighty-fifth year of his age ; 
 and of his death, the Doctor remarked, “ 1 would not have missed this 
 sight for a great 6leal ! I seemed to have gone thither in order to learn 
 how to die.” While at Fensford, he was requested to preach the funeral 
 sermon of his friend Mr. Roberts, but was unable, in consequence of a 
 severe cold caught on the evening on which he was overturned in the coach. 
 
 Before he returned home, he had occasion to address a letter to his 
 
 * Mr. Scott invariably gave £100 per a^nimm, for the support of the missionaries in the 
 Zetland Isles, and £10 towards the erection of every new chapel, with various other 
 helps. He left for the Mission also, £3,000 in the 3^ percents., besides the following 
 beneficences : — £1,000 General Wesleyan Missions ; £1,000 Preachers’ Annuitant Fund; 
 £1,000 British and Foreign Bible Society ; £300 Naval and Military Society • £200 
 Strangers’ Friend Society, in London ; £200 Baptist Missions ; £200 Strangers’ Friend 
 Society in Bath; £200 Hibernian Missionary Society; £200 Moravian Missionary So- 
 ciety; £200 London Missionary Society; £100 Tract Society, Bath; nd £100 Tract 
 Society, Bristol. The Doctor wrote from Pensford, immediately after Mr. Scott’s 
 death, committing a paper to the biographer, respecting some legacies, which Mrs. 
 Scott wished him to make a minute of, and which he wished to have preserved in case 
 of further reference being needed. 
 
272 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 Royal Highness the Duke of Sussex, for the part which his Royal High- 
 ness had taken in the course of the preceding year, in stemming the torrent 
 of political corruption, and availed himself of the anniversary of his Royal 
 Highness’s birthday for the purpose. 
 
 In the month of February, he received a pressing letter, signed by 
 order and on behalf of the Board of Managers of the Missionary Society 
 of the Methodist Episcopal Church of New York, dated Dec. 23, 1831, 
 inviting him to visit the continent of America, to assist in their Missionary 
 labours, and in their Church assembly. He expressed, in his reply to 
 Doctors and Messrs. J. Emory, B. Waugh, J. Bangs, T. Hall, and G. 
 Suckley, his cordial good wishes for that rising state, and for the honour 
 conferred upon him by the invitation ; but regretted — though he had long 
 waited for a Providential opening to visit America — that age, infirmity, 
 and various engagements which he stood pledged to fulfil, prevented him 
 from acceding to their wishes, as well as gratifying his own desires. 
 Among other topics embraced in his letter of reply, he stated, “ There is 
 no danger so imminent, both to yourselves and to us, as departing from 
 our original simplicity in spirit, in manners, and in our mode of worship. 
 As the world is continually changing around us, we are liable to be affected 
 by these changes. W"e think, in many cases, that we may please well- 
 intentioned men better, and be more useful to them, by permitting many 
 of the more innocent forms of the world to enter into the church; wherever 
 we have done so, we have infiillibly lost ground in the depth of our religion, 
 and in its spirituality and unction. I would say to all, keep your doctrines 
 and your discipline, not only in your church-books and society-rules, but 
 preach the former without refining upon them — observe the latter without 
 bending it to circumstances, or impairing its vigour by frivolous exceptions 
 and partialities.” 
 
 He had a holy jealousy on this subject ; and the following conversation, 
 in a social party at which the writer was present, will develope more fully 
 some of his views and feelings respecting it : — 
 
 Mr, Bromley , — What was the Doctor’s text this morning ? ” 
 
 Mr. S . — “ This is a faithful saying,” &c. 
 
 Dr. CVc— “ Yes,” pleasantly, yet in the form of a quiet rebuke, “but 
 not in the old way ; the sermon bore no resemblance to your old, thread- 
 bare common-place mode of preaching on the text.” 
 
 Mr. S . — “ The congregation was very large, highly respectable, and 
 there was strong feeling during the sermon.” 
 
 Dr. C . — “ I thought once, they were all about to be converted.” 
 
 Mr. B . — “How does it happen, Doctor, that extraordinary and 
 sudden conversions, are not so frequent among us as formerly? I 
 scarcely ever hear of any good being done now under my ministry ; and 
 there was a time, when I rarely went out into the circuit without seeing 
 souls converted to God ; and I think I preach as well now as ever I did.” 
 
PART VI. — SECTION V. 
 
 273 
 
 Dr. (7. — “ I cannot tell what the reason is, but most assuredly some- 
 thing is radically wrong. You preach the truth, and preach it as well as 
 ever. Perhaps the doctrine of the Witness of the Spirit, and that of 
 Deliverance from all Sin, are not so insisted upon as they once were. If 
 something were not materially wrong, God would not withhold success. 
 I have perceived one thing — a visible study to bring the world into the 
 Church : it appears in ornamented chapels, organs, &c. &c. I did not 
 
 like the chanting of that solemn hymn, when I preached in ; it was 
 
 aping a fallen Church. I know I am an old man, and may be accused of 
 the petulance of age ; but trust an old man for once : if we bring the 
 world into the Church, we turn the Spirit out ! ” Here he quoted a very 
 beautiful couplet, expressive of the experience and authority of age, 
 which was answered by a couplet from Pope’s Homer, by — 
 
 Mr, B . — 
 
 “ Cool age advances, venerably wise. 
 
 Turns on all bands, its deep discerning eyes.” 
 
 Dr. C. — “ I do not wish to say you are a fallen Church ; there is a 
 redeeming principle in Methodism yet. My heart is with you ; and when 
 my spirit has passed away, — if God permits, — it shall return, and be a 
 stirring spirit among you again. But it is evident there is a failure 
 somewhere.” 
 
 Mr. B. — With his hat in his hand, — “ You must let me go, or before 
 I reach home, I shall think I am going to be lost.” 
 
 Dr. C. — “ And I will go to my bedside and pray that I may not be 
 lost.” 
 
 Mr. B. — “And so will I, Dr. Clarke. Farewell! ” 
 
 Dr. Clarke was no croaker ; but like an aflFectionate father, his love 
 was mingled with holy fear. 
 
 Speaking of the agent of a friend of his, who had to draw £19,000 
 out of a concern, and of whom he entertained but an indifferent opinion, 
 he remarked, “Mr. S. thinks, I dare say, that he can see the sun, moon, 
 and seven stars, all clearly shining from the bottom of Mr. D., and letting 
 in light from thence to his soul, and there is no shaking his confidence ; 
 but he will find him to be unsound to his cost.” 
 
 The month of February was more than usually distinguished for 
 correspondence, engagements, and introductions. Among other particulars 
 that might be noticed, he renewed his acquaintance with Dr. Southey, the 
 Poet Laureate, — attended a levee or conversazione of His Koyal Highness 
 the Duke of Sussex, where he was introduced to the notice of, and ha,d 
 conversations with, the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bishops of London 
 and Chichester, Professor Lee, the famous Ram mohun Rovo.^ surrounded 
 by foreign Ministers, lords, chief functionaries, learned foreigners, &c., 
 and occupied different pulpits, in preaching occasional sermons. 
 
 Looking abroad on public afiairs, he observed to the biographer, 
 
 VOL. II. 8 
 
274 
 
 ADAM CLARKE, 
 
 March 9th, “ The Reform Bill is still pending : it has not yet passed the 
 lords, so far as I have heard ; and I begin to entertain serious doubts, 
 whether it will not again be thrown out by the lords. Then we shall 
 have a change of Ministers, and every soul for the worse. Those we have 
 now, are badgered by the unprincipled part of the Opposition — ^the 
 borough-mongers and their creatures ; so that we may well believe they 
 (the Ministers) will be glad to back out of such miserable harness, and 
 seek quiet and life elsewhere. I thought, however, it was a good omen 
 to see at Kensington Palace the other evening, the chief of the bishops, 
 such as Canterbury and London, and several of the Opposition Lords and 
 Commons ; as well as the Ministers, and several of their friends : and, by 
 a Card, which I received two days ago from His Royal Highness, I am 
 invited to the palace to a similar meeting on the 24th instant, IMay 19th, 
 and June 9th. The duke is well-known to be strongly on the Ministerial 
 side ; and, I say in my heart, would aU these men, with opposite senti- 
 ments, meet thus together, to shake the hand of friendship, if still 
 determined to continue opposed to each other on the great question ? ” 
 In the course of this month, the Doctor, agreeably to a promise made to 
 Dr. Hawes, preached a sermon in behalf of the Royal Humane Society, 
 for which occasion City Road Chapel was obligingly lent by the trustees. 
 
 April 9th, he gave the following summary of some of his more public 
 engagements : ‘‘ The Missionary Secretaries are in want of help for their 
 coming anniversary, and have come in the most earnest and affectionate 
 manner to me, begging me to help them. I have at once submitted, 
 though it is likely to throw work upon me, which I shall scarcely be able 
 to bear. I had been previously engaged to Birmingham and Sheffield ; I 
 must now be at Birmingham on the 22nd and 23rd, — return back to 
 London, for Queen Street, on the 27th, and Southwark on the 29 th : then 
 set off for Sheffield, where I must be May 5th and 6th ; and get, if I 
 can, to Belfast, or Donagadee on the 12th. I am in an indifferent state 
 of health ; and there is too much reason to believe, that all this travelling 
 and . preaching, coming so close together, will overset me.” His journey 
 to Birmingham, two services on the Sabbath-day, five hours at the public 
 meeting on the Monday, travelling the whole of the Tuesday, and a two 
 hours’ walk in the rain to reach the coach, with intervening labour, but 
 ill prepared him for the annual sermon at Great Queen Street, in the 
 metropolis, on the Friday: there, however, he appeared, and a Divine 
 unction attended the Word. On the Sunday, he was so much exhausted 
 that he found it difficult to go through the service at Southwark. Con- 
 nected with this service was the baptism of four children, one of whom 
 was Susannah, the daughter of Dr. Beaumont, supposed to be the last 
 child Dr. Clarke baptised in England. The sermon was not delivered 
 with his usual freedom ; but at the font, in his own language, “ the 
 remaining spark burnt out afresh.” With a countenance, radiant with 
 
PART VI. — SECTION V, 
 
 275 
 
 inward light and hallowed feeling, and a strength of voice unheard in the 
 sermon, he held up the child, with his eyes directed to heaven, saying, 
 ‘‘We receive an immortal into the Church of Christ ; ” accompanying 
 the same with an overwhelming address to the parents and to the 
 audience. Though he said but little at the public meeting at Exeter 
 Hall, the material of his speech was of such a character, that he was 
 importuned by the secretaries to allow it to be published. His labours at 
 Sheffield were exceedingly heavy — even distressing, but unusually bene- 
 ficial.* He seemed, on the morning of the public breakfast, in Carver 
 
 * “ Eew, probably,” says Montgomery, “are here now, wbo will not call to mind one 
 who was in our midst, on the like occasion, last year, — one who, by his sermons from 
 the pulpit on the Sabbath, his address at the public meeting on the Monday, and his 
 farewell to the breakfast party next morning, most effectually served the cause which 
 he was engaged to plead, by making those who were privileged to hear him determine 
 to render their own services more effective thenceforward ; witnessing, as they did, the 
 zeal, faith, and love of that venerable disciple towards the close of his career. 
 
 “Who among us does not remember — nay, which of us can forget —the two dis- 
 courses referred to? -the simple energy with which they were poured forth, the unction 
 of the Holy One that accompanied them, and the devout feeling so interfused as to 
 overpower the sense of admiration which the learning, the love, the transcendent 
 ability displayed in the composition, were calculated to excite. Then his address to the 
 meeting from this platform— standing as he did where your esteemed superintendent 
 now sits, at my side — though uttered under the pressure of great bodily weakness— was 
 hallowed throughout by such demonstration of the Spirit and of power, as to leave an 
 imperishable recollection of its influence upon our minds; while, with patriarchal 
 grace, he told the simple tale of his own early experience of the Gospel ; and showed 
 how it immediately constrained him to sally forth, boy as he was, among the mountains 
 and valleys, to the hamlets and scattered huts, in the wild neighbourhood where he was 
 born, with New Testament and Hymn-book in hand, preaching and praying, reading 
 and singing, wherever he could collect a few peasants, or women and children about 
 him, to hearken to his voice, or join with him in worship. The scene, too, after the 
 breakfast in the adjacent vestry, I have been assured, (for my duty detained me else- 
 where,) was most touching and impressive. He knew not how to give over, while from 
 the fulness of his heart his mouth spake. His last words — of which more and more 
 fell from his lips as he lingered in the room, and could not depart without again and 
 again exhorting the company to diligence and fldelity in the service of the Lord, — those 
 last words left a blessing behind which can never be taken away from those on whom it 
 descended : even as Elijah, before he was carried up to heaven in the chariots of Are 
 already waiting for him, may he supposed to have turned back and spread abroad his 
 hands in benediction towards the sons of the prophets who tarried on the other side of 
 Jordan, while he on whom his mantle was to fall, accompanied him to the farther side. 
 
 “Such was Ad4M Clarke, when we last beheld him. I must add, that he who, ic 
 his youth, had been the evangelist of his native district, in his old age became the 
 apostle of the remotest isles of Britain’s empire. It is a hundred years this very day — 
 this 22nd of April — it is a hundred years precisely, since the ship from Copenhagen, 
 which carried out the three missionaries to Greenland, came in sight of the shores of 
 Shetland, but having no message of mercy to deliver there, ‘ passed by on the other 
 side.’ The time of their visitation might not have been come; and the man was not 
 yet born, who was destined to bear the special message of salvation to the poor 
 inhabitants of those forlorn regions. Years upon years rolled away, before ever he was 
 called in the course of his long life to that missionary enterprize, when his brow already 
 wore that earthly ‘crown of glory — grey hairs found in the way of righteousness,’ — of 
 which the very appearance gave note that ere long he must change it for a ‘ cro »va of 
 righteousness that fadethnot away.’ In God’s time, however, he was called thither anti 
 so faithful was he found in the ministry there, that, while the seas assail the rocks, and 
 
 S 2 
 
276 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 Street vestry, as if beatified. On retiring, as be walked down the room^ 
 be was beard singing, and tbe last word that died upon tbe ear of tbe 
 company was — “ Hallelujab, ballelujab.” From Sheffield, be proceeded 
 to Bruerton and Stafibrd, at both of wbicb places be preached ; and from 
 the former of wbicb he started for Liverpool, May 18th, where be arrived 
 on the same day, and entered on board tbe Corsair steam-packet, and 
 sailed for Ireland, — arriving at Donaghadee at five o’clock next morning, 
 after “a pleasant passage of fifteen hours.” Though he was attacked 
 with spasms at Liverpool, he was perfectly free when he reached Ireland ; 
 but otherwise extremely feeble. 
 
 Persecution raged at this time at Jamaica ; in reference to which he 
 remarked, — “I see that there is a flame kindled in our inheritance, and I 
 feel that I am needed : the terms in which Mr. James speaks of my 
 services, as he calls them, are affecting. I shall pocket and seal up all my 
 causes of complaint ; join myself even to the forlorn hope, at the front 
 of the storming party, and mount the breach for the God of Armies in 
 the defence of his people ! ” In this spirit of self-sacrifice he consecrated 
 his remaining strength, mental and physical, to the advancement of the 
 general work, the Zetland Missions, and the Irish Schools. 
 
 He continued at Donaghadee from May 19th to June 2nd ; during 
 which time he was able only to preach twice : once at Donaghadee, and 
 once at Hewton Ards. He observed to his friend, Mr. Forshaw, — “When 
 I left Liverpool, I was poorly ; I have since been very ill. You know 
 when a man totters he may easily be thrown off his centre of gravity : I 
 was tottering when I came here, and now I am thrown down.” He took 
 cold, had a rheumatic seizure in his face, an attack of gout in the foot, 
 and was seriously affected in his bowels. Medical aid was called in, and 
 he was confined within doors, and partly to bed, in the house of the 
 Rev. E. Harpur, where he observed, “Even angels could not show me 
 greater kindness.” Having experienced a slight improvement, he pro- 
 ceeded to Belfast, June 2nd, and preached with great difficulty in the 
 chapel, in Donegal Square, the day after. On the 4th, he took coach for 
 Antrim, where he remained with his friend, the Rev. A. M. ; to whose 
 niece. Miss E. M. Loriman, he wrote on the 6th, from Coleraine : “You 
 know pretty well in what state I was, when I left you yesterday morning ; 
 and it will not surprise you to hear, that I grew much worse on the way ; 
 indeed, I suffered much; and by the time I got to Ballymena, was 
 scarcely able to proceed any further.” At Coleraine, he domiciled with 
 his hospitable friend, Mr. M‘Alwaine. But up to the 17th, he had to 
 remark to the friend whom he left at Antrim; — “I have been laid up 
 
 Ihe rocks repel the seas, on the coasts of Shetland, the name of Adam Clarke will be 
 held in sacred remembrance, and that day be called blessed in its annals, on which it 
 was first said, * How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth good 
 tidiagp, that publisheth peace ! ’ 
 
FART VI. -“SECTION V. 
 
 277 
 
 ever since I came here, and have not yet even seen Port Stuart. Last 
 night I received a dismal letter, written from the Swan Hotel, Birming- 
 ham, stating, that my son, Theo., who had come off to see me, and take 
 me home, had been overturned in the coach : his right arm wounded, and 
 his right thigh much bruised ; and that he is now at the above inn, and 
 employed a person to write for him, as his wounded arm prevented him ! 
 I wrote back by the some post, stating that I should set off immediately, 
 and stop nowhere till I got over the channel. I cannot get off to-morrow, 
 as unfortunately, there is no conveyance from this place to Belfast. I 
 have been once out on the car, but worn out by the fatigue. I am far 
 from fit to undertake such journeys and voyage. The packet that I wish 
 to go by, sails on Tuesday at one o’clock : the other does not sail till 
 Thursday.” Though he had conversations with the teachers of his 
 schools, he was unable to visit them in person : the accounts, however, 
 were highly satisfactory. He insisted on the Bible being the grand 
 school-book. He was averse to the Government plan of leaving the Bible 
 out of the schools, which he considered to have been proposed merely to 
 conciliate the Roman Catholics. 
 
 Such was his state of health, that he was able to occupy the pulpit 
 only twice, while at Coleraine — on the 10th and 17th ; which place he 
 left on the 20th, slept on his way at Antrim, and reached Belfast on the 
 21st. His inability to fulfil his mission in Ireland respecting the schools, 
 the accident which had befallen his son, and his own sufferings and pros- 
 tration of strength, combined with the desolating spread of the cholera, 
 exercised an unusually painful influence upon his otherwise unflinching 
 spirit, though he was still preserved from “dread.” The latter, taken 
 in connection with the disordered state of his bowels — naturally tender, 
 as he once observed to the writer — led him to remark — a remark in which 
 he felt a deep interest, — “ I find that the cholera is got to Liverpool, and 
 a universal terror has struck the hearts of the people : all have lost their 
 confidence and courage, and consequently are more likely to receive than 
 to resist the infection.” After a rough passage on board the Chieftain 
 steam- vessel, with heavy rain and the wind right a-head, he reached 
 Liverpool on the 22nd, when he crossed the Mersey, and took up his 
 abode at the house of Mr. and Mrs. Forshaw. He should have preached 
 on Sabbath 24th, but his disorder increasing, he “ could neither walk nor 
 stand.” Here he remained a few days, experiencing often much pain 
 from the inflamed state of his foot, with his ear ever open to the dreadful 
 ravages of the cholera ; observing, on one occasion, — “ I have not strength 
 to fly from the plague ; I resign myself to the Sovereign of heaven and 
 earth ; He can keep me from the pestilence that walketh in darkness, as 
 well as the destruction that wasteth at noonday.” 
 
 He left Mr. Forshaw’s on the 30th, for Worcester ; stating, “ In 
 leaving Liverpool, I thought I had left the cholera behind me ; but when 
 
278 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 1 came to Chester, I found it had got there before me ; we drove on to 
 Wrexham, and there also was the cholera. My lame foot I wrapt in a 
 wad of straw ; it soon got very warm, and continued so the whole day? 
 consequently, the intense jaculating pain was prevented.” He reached 
 the house of his son-in-law, Mr. James Rowley, about five o’clock, much 
 exhausted ; and, July 2nd, arrived at Haydon Hall, where he heard of 
 his son’s (Theoderet) greatly improved state, and found the other part of 
 the family in health. The change in his appearance made a deeply 
 painful impression on the family. 
 
 July 6th, he wrote to the biographer, giving a detailed account of his 
 journey and of his sufferings, evidently a memoriter transcript from his 
 journal ; observing, “ On reaching Worcester, I began to get increasingly 
 unwell, took the coach for next morning at six o’clock, and got to Ux- 
 bridge at half-past five p.m. ; left the coach, and could get no other con- 
 veyance than a pony-chaise, without apron, foot-cloth, or cover; was 
 exposed to the evening air, got to Eastcott, became almost worse than I 
 had yet been, with new complaints ; and here I lie, very helpless, but 
 with the hope of getting better. During my whole stay at Coleraine, I 
 was not able to do one stroke of work I went there to perform, but had 
 incessant suffering from that to this hour. How mysterious is all this ! 
 While at Liverpool, the friends pressed me much to attend the Con- 
 ference. I believe they were quite sincere — and they begged me to stay 
 while I was in the neighbourhood ; and I even thought of returning, but 
 I think my health will not suffer me.” 
 
 Though urged not to go to Conference by Mrs. Clarke, he observed after- 
 wards, that he had duties yet to perform in reference to Shetland and the 
 Irish Schools ; and besides, he earnestly wished to leave his testimony for 
 God and Methodism once more in the midst of his brethren. That 
 TESTIMONY was strikingly given to a friend, while at Conference, just 
 one month before his death, and left, as if designed by Providence, as a 
 monument of his faith and affection : 
 
 ‘‘ In ^erpetuam rei memoriam. I have lived more than threescore 
 years and ten ; I have travelled a good deal, by sea and by land ; I have 
 conversed with and seen many people, in and from many different 
 countries; I have studied all the principal religious systems in the world; 
 I have read much, thought much, and reasoned much ; and the result is, 
 I am persuaded of the simple, unadulterated truth of no book but the 
 Bible ; and of the excellence of no system of religion but that contained 
 in the Holy Scriptures ! and especially Christianity, which is referred to 
 in the Old Testament, and fully revealed in the New. And, while I 
 think well of, and wish well to, all religious sects and parties, and espe- 
 cially to all who love the Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity, yet, from a long 
 and thorough knowledge of the subject, I am led most conscientiously to 
 
PAKT Vi. SECTION V. 
 
 279 
 
 conclude, that Christianity itself, as existing among those called Wesleyan 
 Methodists, is the purest, the safest, and that which is most to the glory 
 of God and the benefit of man ; and that, both as to the creed there pro- 
 fessed, form of discipline there established, and the consequent moral 
 practice there vindicated. And I believe, that among them is to be found 
 the best form and body of divinity that has ever existed in the Church of 
 Christ, from the promulgation of Christianity to the present day. To 
 him who would ask, ‘ Dr. Clarke, are you not a bigot ? ’ without hesita- 
 tion I would answer, ‘INo, I am not ; for, by the grace of God, I am a 
 Methodist.’ Amen. — Adam Clarke.” 
 
 He only asserted for himself, in this strong language, what he ceded 
 to others, — every man preferring his own religious community and creed 
 to those of others ; thinking, however, “ well of, and wishing well to,” 
 other sections of the Christian Church. 
 
 Addressing another friend, July 25th, he observed, “ It appears to me, 
 that my public work is nearly done ; at least my labour must terminate. 
 But I have the satisfaction to know, that I have not rusted out, but worn 
 out. And there is a better satisfaction than even this, — that I have 
 neither worked nor laboured in 'yam.” 
 
 He evidently had a presentiment of his approaching dissolution ; 
 while at Coleraine, he settled all his affairs with the bank, relative to the 
 schools ; and on the 27th of July, he delivered up the Shetland Mission 
 to the Conference, which was to be received into the missions. He gave 
 up also the £3,000 of his trusteeship for the Shetlands, which he held under 
 the will of Robert Scott, Esq., and the £400 which he received from the 
 Hon. Sophia Ward. These acts were closed by offering the Irish Schools 
 to the School Committee. 
 
 A vote was passed unanimously, that he should preach before Con- 
 ference, in place of the Ex-President, on Sunday morning, 29th. To 
 this he strongly objected on the ground of health ; but a repetition of the 
 vote, and the importunity of his brethren, overcame him. His text was 
 Gal. vi. 15. There was a large attendance of preachers, and an over- 
 flowing congregation. He apologised for not being better prepared, 
 having been absolutely forced into the pulpit. He proceeded in his usual 
 perspicuous way, explaining that by the circumcision ” the Jews were 
 meant, and by the “ uncircumcision ” the Gentiles, — comprehending the 
 whole Gentile world. By the “ new creature,” or, as it might have been 
 translated, “new creation,” was meant the Christian dispensation, which 
 he forcibly explained and enforced by embracing two parallel passages : 
 the first exhibiting obedience to the commands of God ; the second, “ the 
 faith that works by love ; ” the third the text — “ a new creation.” While 
 dwelling upon one portion of his second general division, he made such 
 an impression upon his hearers as had been rarely witnessed, except under 
 
280 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 liis own ministry. He stated, that it was usual with the older divines, to 
 distinguish faith into two parts, — the faith of adherence^ and the faith of 
 assurance. It was the opinion of some, that the faith of assurance had 
 not been enjoyed since the apostolic age. In his own country, he re- 
 marked, it was reported, that pecuUarly holy men once obtained it by 
 agonising with God in prayer , but he could tell them that others than 
 those in “olden times” had enjoyed it; that he himself, when a boy, 
 wrestled with God in prayer for it ; and that such was his agony of soul, 
 that the spot on which he prayed, in the corner of a field, was like 
 ploughed ground, when he rose from his knees. He further remarked, 
 that he was no sooner converted to God — had no sooner become a “ new 
 creature ” — than be went through the villages and hamlets, telling the 
 people what God had done for his soul. The report got spread, continued 
 he, that “ little Adam Clarke had obtained the faith of assurance.” Here 
 he burst forth in the most impassioned strain, — “ Yes, glory be to God! 
 I had got it — and, what is more, I still have The manner in which 
 he uttered these expressions produced an overw'helming, electrical effect 
 upon .the audience. This was, indeed, a blessed “testimony ” before the 
 Church — childhood and hoary age blending in the same person — the one 
 only a short remove from the cradle, and the other within a month of the 
 coffin ; for, on the evening of that very day month — the Sabbath of God 
 — forty minutes before the Sabbath was closed, the consecrating hand of 
 his Maker was upon him, honouring him with a removal from one Sabbath 
 to another, with scarcely a step between ; to enjoy, in full fruition, on 
 the evening of the same day in heaven, the Sabbath of wffiich he had 
 experienced a foretaste upon earth in the morning. The sermon, as a 
 whole, was not first-rate ; but, as an opinion had become prevalent, that 
 the Doctor had felt a slight alienation of spirit, some short time, from his 
 brethren, in consequence of the treatment he had received from certain 
 quarters, the testimony which he bore on the subject of personal piety, 
 and the melting tenderness with which he preached, dissipated every 
 doubt, and seemed to bind all in the bond of love, — himself exhibiting 
 the appearance of ripe fruit shaking from the tree, and about to be 
 gathered into the garner of God. In this view, the sermon may be con- 
 sidered as important ; and some of the materials embodied in it, as a key 
 to the Doctor’s state of religious feeling, and the fine spirit which he 
 breathed towards his ministerial brethren, and especially the ruling part 
 of them. 
 
 Looking at the Doctor in the vestry of Brunswick Chapel, the biogra- 
 pher was deeply affected by his altered appearance : the venerable man per- 
 ceived it ; and in order to turn it off, grasped in bis hand the front part 
 of his waistcoat, which hung loosely round him, and said, “ There was 
 something here, which is not here now ; but,” he added, while directing 
 his eye downward, “ I feel most for my legs, which have supported me so 
 
PART VI. — SECTION V. 
 
 281 
 
 long and so well : the one-half of them seems to have run away and 
 left me.” 
 
 At Mr. Corner’s, at dinner, he seemed to catch the spirit which he 
 displayed in the vestry, and was more than cheerful — even playful. The 
 etymology of names being noticed : his ovrn, he said, was no doubt from 
 a clerk — a writer; “Mr. Clough’s” continued he, “from a dingle or a 
 thicket ; and as for Mr. Taylor,” looking across the table, and laughing, 
 “if he had been the trade of his forefathers, he ought to have been 
 elevated on a table, rather than by its side.” 
 
 The writer having to leave for Manchester, the Doctor agreed to call 
 upon him, August 1, on his way to Eeddish House, Stockport ; which he 
 accordingly did, in company with the Rev. Benjamin Clough ; when an 
 engagement was made to spend the next day at Mr. Smith’s in company 
 with Mr. Bromley, Mr. J. Campion, of Whitby, and others. 
 
 Finding, as he expressed himself, that there was no “knotty business” 
 likely to be brought before the Conference, he signified his wish to leave 
 before the close of its sittings ; assigning as a reason, not only his state 
 of health, but the desire he had to be with his family during the ravages 
 of the cholera. “ God,” said he, “is visiting this nation; he is visiting 
 this town, which has become a place of death ; he has long had a reckon- 
 ing with us as a land : we are in the midst of disease ; it is in the metro- 
 polis ; my house will be filled with children ; there is no barricading the 
 house against the scourge ; I must go and be with them.” Let this be 
 connected with a now^ mysteriously singular, and almost prophetic 
 remark, at Reddish House. The cholera was the subject of conversation; 
 and the case of Mrs., wife of the Rev. J. Hickling, being mentioned, who 
 had painful apprehensions of the disease, but was delivered in prayer, by 
 the application of a text of Scripture to her, which she took as a revela- 
 tion from God, confidently observing, that she would never be visited by 
 the malady. A part of the text was uttered, and the remainder not being 
 correctly quoted by the speaker, the Doctor being familiar with the 
 passage, took it up, and said, “ A thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten 
 thousand at thy right hand; but it shall not come nigh thee,” &c. 
 (Ps. xci.) The Doctor knowing the impositions which many well-mean- 
 ing persons practise upon themselves, and being averse withal, to any- 
 thing like daring confidence in a world Avhere so many casualties are 
 constantly turning up to endanger life — and evidently finding himself 
 in the presence of an awful power — a tremendous scourge, in fact, which, 
 from its mysterious movements, gave promise of security to no one person, 
 in whatever place, season, or climate, and which God, without the least 
 infringement on either justice or mercy, might employ as his marksman 
 either in the church or in the world, said, “ Mrs. H. may have such an 
 impression, and she may believe she has been told so, but this I know, 
 that God hath not so spoken to me.” This sentence, up to the time of his 
 
282 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 death, was like a suspended blow — the hand being invisible that menaced 
 it, and it was only afterwards, that its full weight was felt upon the spirits 
 — reverencing it the while, and hearing in it the voice, and seeing in his 
 death, the hand of Him in whom he stood in awe, and of whose dispensa- 
 tions he beheld himself the legitimate subject. 
 
 Conversation was maintained, at intervals, with great readiness and 
 cheerfulness, and the Doctor appeared rallying from previous languor. 
 Speaking of the human constitution, its changes, and the vis vitoe^ or 
 principle of life, he entered largely into the subject, maintaining the 
 principle of life to be the same in all creatures ; and dexterously supported 
 his position by an appeal to the writings of Moses, in his Notes on part 
 of which he refers to the experiments of Dr. Hervey, subsequently im- 
 proved by Dr. John Hunter, on the vitality of the blood — grounding 
 the whole on, “ The life of man is in his blood.” Mr. B. adverted to the 
 Scriptural fact, that our life is hid with Christ in God, with a view 
 apparently to elicit further remark, and supported McKnight’s view of 
 the subject; to which the Doctor replied, “Our life, our being is hid 
 with him, and preserved by him as the author and supporter of life : He 
 has only to withdraw his hand and we instantly sink.” Then, recurring 
 to the principle of life being the same in all, he laughed, and said, — “ It 
 must be so : it may be said of this, as the old philosopher, who wished to 
 establish a pointy said of nature — ‘ There is salt, sulphur, and mercury in 
 everything.’ ” 
 
 The communication of Colonel Nichols being named, on the destruc- 
 tion of the Slave Trade, the Doctor — great an enemy as he w^as to slavery, 
 yielded to the side of gradual emancipation ; observing, “ I was always 
 for immediate emancipation, but the more I reflect on the subject, the 
 more I am persuaded a just, slow, and sure emancipation is the best. The 
 owners have a property in the slaves, such as it is, and we must be just 
 before we are generous : the slaves want a preparation for liberty, and 
 that will want a httle time ; and by doing it gradually, it will be sure, 
 and therefore, more safe. I can answer all my former objections, and 
 uproot all my former arguments.” Mr. B. urged immediate emancipa- 
 tion. “ I say so too,” rephed the Doctor, “ if it can be done with safety 
 and advantage to the slave ; but of two evils^ choose the least ; of two 
 sinSf choose neither. Gradual emancipation appears to me the best ; we 
 do not gain what we wish by it ; but we may as well have a mouse in the 
 pot as no beef.” 
 
 The subject of the cholera being adverted to again, he said, “ Some 
 persons characterise it as an epidemic spreading over the face of a district, 
 or a country ; for my part, I am disposed to look upon it as coming imme- 
 diately down from above, like a volume of miasma : ” and then, pausing, 
 asked, “ If that volume were to come down upon this town and neigh- 
 bourhood, who among us would be able to bear the tremendous pressure?” 
 
PART VI. — SECTION V. 
 
 283 
 
 Though without any “dread,” as he expressed himself, of the painful 
 visitation, the tidings of its ravages, brought it frequently on the tapis ; 
 and he dwelt with tender interest on the death of the Rev. John Storry, 
 who became a prey to its ravages. 
 
 The Doctor returned to Liverpool by way of Manchester, where the 
 biographer left the carriage close by St. Peter’s Church — shook hands 
 with him — and saw him for the last time, August 2, about four o’clock in 
 the afternoon. 
 
 Having engaged, at the earnest solicitation of his son, the Rev. J. 
 B. B. Clarke, to attend a public meeting at Frome, convened in aid of 
 the District Visiting Society — a Society established through the instru- 
 mentality of his son, and patronised by all the constituted authorities of 
 the town, the Marquis of Bath, the Earl of Cork, the Lord Bishop of the 
 Diocese, the county representatives, and the clergy — the Doctor left the 
 house of his friends Mr. and Mrs. Forshaw, Oakfield, on the Cheshire 
 side of the Mersey, for that place, taking Worcester on his way, where he 
 spent a night with his daughter, Mrs. Rowley, and her family, — all of 
 whom were well, though the cholera was within only a few doors of them. 
 Next day he proceeded to Bath, and the day after to Frome ; attending, 
 in the latter instance, the public meeting, August 9, and preaching in 
 behalf of the charity, in the Wesleyan Chapel, the Sabbath following ; — 
 grounding his discourse on Acts xiv. 22. From Frome he proceeded to 
 Weston-super-Mare, with his son and family, where he domiciled with 
 his old friends Mr. and Mrs. Roberts, of Bristol, who were there at the 
 time for the benefit of the sea air. On Sunday morning, the 19th, he 
 preached at Westbury. Several friends from Bristol were present on the 
 occasion ; and, among others, his brother-in-law, Mr. Thomas Exley, who 
 was high in his praise of the sermon, when relating the circumstance to 
 the writer. The Doctor was unusually animated, and a special influence 
 attended the service. Monday, 19th, he proceeded to Bath, and thence 
 to London, accompanied by Mr. Exley’s son, who was to have accom- 
 panied him to Haydon Hall, to assist in arranging his philosophical 
 and other apparatus, but was prevented from accomplishing the 
 purpose proposed. Having slept at the house of his friend, Mr. 
 Hobbs, Bays water, and visited his son, Mr. Theodoret Clarke, and 
 his daughters, Mrs. Smith and Mrs. Hook, he left London, and reached 
 his own house on the 22nd, about seven o’clock in the evening. Thursday 
 and Friday, 23rd and 24th, are stated to have been devoted chiefly to the 
 work of answering correspondents ; the Shetland Mission and Irish 
 Schools, occupying a due share of his attention. In family worship, he 
 invariably referred to the cholera, by name, and prayed that the members 
 might be preserved from its influence, and prepared for sudden death. 
 Having engaged to preach at Bayswater on Sunday 26th, he left home on 
 
ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 2Si 
 
 the Saturday, in company with Mr. Hobbs, who had arranged to convey 
 him to London in his chaise. 
 
 In the early part of the evening, on his arrival at Bayswater, he was 
 much fatigued ; and, as the evening advanced, was unusually languid. 
 On the Eev. Thomas Stanley, who followed him soon after into a world 
 of spirits, and still more suddenly, requesting him to fix a time for a charity 
 sermon, he replied, “ I am not well ; I cannot fix a time ; I must see 
 what God is about to do with me.” At supper, he was silent, and his 
 languor seemed to increase ; partaking only of a little boiled rice. From 
 the time of his leaving Bristol, his bowels had been considerably affected, 
 though free from pain, which was marked by him as somewhat unusual. 
 He took some opening medicine, and retired to rest at an early hour ; 
 but the diarrhoea increased upon him in the course of the night ; and he 
 was up earlier than usual in the morning. At six o’clock, Mr. Hobbs was 
 called up, and on coming down stairs, saw the Doctor dressed, and ready 
 to proceed home ; he said to his kind host, — “ My dear fellow, you must 
 get me home directly ; without a miracle I could not preach ; get me 
 home, — I want to be home.” Mr. Hobbs, seeing his afflicted state, replied, 
 “ Indeed, Doctor, you are too ill to go home, you had better stay here ; 
 at any rate the gig is not fit for you, I will go and inquire for a post- 
 chaise, if you are determined to return to Eastcott.” Mrs. Hobbs, Miss 
 Hobbs, and Miss Everingham, were roused, and immediately at hand ; 
 but ere this, he had sunk into a chair, in a state of exhaustion. Find- 
 ing him very cold, a fire was instantly lit, and the three ladies proceeded 
 to rub his hands and forehead, and afford him all the sympathetic aid 
 within reach, till Mr. Charles Greenly, of Chatham, arrived, who 
 had come to town the preceding evening, and who had profes- 
 sionally attended the cholera hospital in that place. Mr. Hobbs, in 
 the meantime, called in a medical gentleman in the neighbourhood; 
 and both of the attendants pronounced thq disease to be an attack of 
 the cholera. He was too weak to be taken up-stairs, and was conveyed 
 to bed in an adjoining room. The Doctor’s sons, Mr. John and Mr. 
 Theodoret Clarke, were sent for, and arrived shortly after, the former 
 accompanied by his cousin, Mr. Thrasycles Clarke, who had been many 
 years a surgeon in His Majesty’s Navy, and had frequently seen cases of 
 cholera in the east. Dr. Wilson Philip was also sent for, who arrived 
 about nine o’clock ; and all the means which skill, experience, and atten- 
 tion could devise and employ, were used to arrest the progress of the 
 disease — but in vain. 
 
 “ My dear Doctor,” said Mr. Hobbs, with Christian tenderness, “ you 
 must put your soul into the hands of your God, and your trust in the 
 merits of your Saviour.” The faint reply was — “ I do — I do.” On the 
 Doctor’s illness being announced to the congregation, it produced a 
 
PART VI. — SECTION V. 
 
 285 
 
 most distressing sensation ; Mr. Thurston left the chapel, and hastened to 
 the house of Mr. Hobbs, when, on finding in the midst of the hurry and 
 alarm, that Mrs. Clarke had not been sent for, he immediately proceeded 
 to Haydon Hall, and returned with Mrs. Clarke to Bayswater, a little 
 before four o’clock in the afternoon. On entering the room, the Doctor 
 feebly extended his hand toward her ; and on his daughter, Mrs. Hook, 
 approaching him, he with equal feebleness opened his eyes, and strove to 
 press his fingers on her hand. He spoke to his son Theodoret, in the 
 morning, and asked, “ Am I blue ? ” fully alive apparently to the disease, 
 its symptoms, and effects. And at noon again, when his son was 
 moving from the bed side, asked with apparent anxiety — “ Are you 
 going ? ” 
 
 In the language of Mrs. Smith, the Doctor’s daughter, from whose 
 deeply affecting account of his last moments these remarks have been 
 chiefly borrowed, “ Dr. Wilson Philip again visited him in the afternoon ; 
 but Mr. Thrasycles Clarke and Mr. Greenly never left his room, nor 
 relaxed their efforts to save a life they saw to be fast hastening away. 
 The female members in this kind family forgot all personal risk in attend- 
 ing upon the afl&iction of one who to them had been so often the minister 
 of peace. His two sons chafed his cold hands and feet frequently in the 
 day, and often stepped behind his head to lift him higher on his pillow. 
 Hope did not abandon them, nor could Mrs. Clarke be brought to believe 
 that death had made a sure lodgment, and that life was fast sinking under 
 his power. 
 
 “ From the first Dr. Clarke appeared to suffer but little pain : the 
 sickness did not last long, and a slight degree of spasm which succeeded 
 it had all passed away before eleven o’clock in the forenoon : but there 
 was a total prostration of strength, and difficulty of breathing, which, as 
 night advanced, increased so much, and proved so distressing to Mrs. 
 Clarke, that she was obliged to be removed into the adjoining room. 
 
 “ A few minutes after eleven, Mr. Hobbs entered the room where she 
 was sitting, and in deep distress said, ‘ I am sure, Mrs. Clarke, the Doctor 
 is dying.’ She passed with him once more into the sick chamber, and 
 said, ‘ Surely, Mr. Hobbs, you are mistaken. Dr. Clarke breathes easier 
 than he did just now ; ’ to which Mr. Hobbs, in strong emotion, replied, 
 ‘ Yes ; but shorter.’ At this moment Dr. Clarke heaved a sob, and his 
 spirit went forth from earth to heaven ! 
 
 “ The heart knows its own bitterness ! but what can equal the anguish 
 of that emotion which first tells the wife that she is a widow, and the 
 children that they are fatherless ? They feel its pang once — to forget it 
 no more ! ” 
 
 Just after the Doctor’s death, Mrs. Smith, his daughter, found some 
 quarto post paper, ruled, stitched, and covered, laid on the table, undis- 
 turbed, — such as he was accustomed to write his sermons upon, when 
 
286 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 disposed to preserve them, as if he had intended to enter his views on the 
 subject to which he purposed directing the attention of his hearers on the 
 morning of the day on which he died, but was unable to proceed further 
 than with the text ; — which was legibly written out ; — “ Verily, verily, I 
 say unto you, The hour is coming, and now is, when the dead shall hear 
 the voice of the Son of God : and they that hear shall live.” John v. 25. 
 In sure and certain hope of a resurrection unto eternal life, he lived ; and 
 as he lived, so he died, at twenty minutes after eleven o’clock at night, 
 August 26, 1832, in the seventy-second year of his age. 
 
 The funeral of this venerable man took place in the burying-ground 
 behind the Wesleyan chapel. City Road, London, on Wednesday, the 
 29th of August. The pulpit was covered with black cloth on the melan- 
 choly occasion. The hearse, which contained the body, accompanied 
 by three mourning coaches, left the house of Mr. Hobbs, Bayswater, 
 where he died, about twelve o’clock, and reached the chapel at one. 
 By that time, though the day was exceedingly wet, and arrangements 
 had been made to render the funeral strictly private, a great number 
 of friends were assembled, waiting the arrival of the mournful pro- 
 cession. 
 
 The body, which had been closely soldered in a coffin of lead, on being 
 taken from the hearse, was carried into the chapel, and rested near the 
 door on supporters placed there to receive it. The Rev. Joseph Entwistle, 
 who met the corpse, accompanied by all the preachers present, read the 
 solemn service, and delivered a short address, which was concluded with 
 prayer. 
 
 The grave in which the remains are interred, is next to the vault in 
 which the ashes of Mr. Wesley moulder in repose. It is about twenty 
 feet deep, and in ground never before used; the coffin resting on a 
 foundation of brick and cement, and, to give height, the sides and ends 
 secured with masonry. 
 
 When the body was consigned to the ground, all the relations were 
 greatly affected ; but none more so than Mr. John Wesley Clarke, Dr. 
 Clarke’s eldest son. In many parts of England, it is customary for the 
 friends to drop a little earth upon the coffin. Guided by this custom, 
 Mr. J. W. Clarke held out his hand, apparently to receive some earth. 
 This being given, he squeezed it for a moment, then put it to his lips, as 
 in the attitude of kissing it, and, immediately dropping it on the coffin^ 
 burst into tears. Unknown to the spectators, that piece of earth 
 enclosed something more valuable than itself. Mr. J. Clarke, in the 
 interim between the death and burial of his revered father, went to the 
 separate members of the family, without apprising any one of his design, 
 and cut a lock from the hair of his mother, brothers, and sisters, their 
 children, &c., — folded the whole in a small piece of paper, — had that 
 paper in his hand, and as the day was wet, the mould enclosed it, as he 
 
PART VI. — SECTION V. 
 
 287 , 
 
 pressed it, and dropped it on the coffin ; an interesting instance of filial 
 affection ! depositing a portion of himself and of the family, while yet 
 living, in the tomb of a parent. 
 
 Funeral sermons were preached in several of the chapels on the 
 occasion ; some of which were published, as those delivered by the 
 Revs. Messrs. H. Moore, J. Beaumont, W, France, J. Anderson, W. 
 Tranter, P. Garrett, &c. 
 
 The great Robert Hall died in 1831 ; but death, in the year 1832, 
 reaped, during the first eight months, a still mightier harvest of the 
 illustrious dead. Ere the close of September, European literature lost 
 Goethe, Cuvier, Bentham, Mackintosh, Clarke, andtScott. Admired as 
 Dr. Clarke was as a preacher, he was still more eminent as a biblical 
 annotator and Scripture critic. His edition of the Bible, which has all 
 the advantage of his vast Oriental learning, is a book of the highest 
 reputation ; nor less esteemed, in its place, is his “ Bibliographical Dic- 
 tionary” for its immense labour and research. It is not too much to 
 say, that he was admired by men of all religious denominations for his 
 profound knowledge, and mild unassuming deportment. 
 
 His views on all doctrinal subjects were substantially one with ike 
 body; and where any difference existed, they related to some abstruse 
 points, on which it is folly to dogmatise, and still greater folly to cherish 
 any ill feeling ; for truth, justice, and freedom will eventually triumph. 
 The very same persons, at different periods of life, may see reason to 
 change their views. It were sad, indeed, if study and experience did not 
 at all operate to correct the crude speculations and imperfections of 
 youth. Little good can be secured, by allowing the light to enter by a 
 small aperture, limited and obscured by a creed. It is only by opening 
 and exposing the mind to the full beams of eternal Truth, that the soul 
 will be warmed and expanded, and made capable of reflecting its image 
 in our ordinary deportment. Bigotry and arrogance seem to be qualities 
 inseparable from ignorance. Every true friend of the human race will 
 pray for the diffusion of that heavenly light which increases a love of the 
 truth ; and, at the same time, enlarges and purifies the affections. It is 
 a consolation to hope, that in the various processes of providence, defects 
 will be supplied and imperfections removed ; and that the workings of 
 the mind, and the circumstances in which we shall be placed, will 
 conspire to produce perfect felicity. 
 
 The style of Dr. Clarke’s preaching and writing, might not, on all 
 occasions,? please a fastidious taste and ear ; but he was a messenger of 
 the Most High to the people, and wrote and spoke in language they 
 understood and did not fail to feel. The approbation of a few hyper- 
 critical readers and hearers was, to him, less than nothing, in comparison 
 with the devout emotions of thousands of hearts led to the Saviour : this 
 was a source of supreme contentment to his mind, and the memorials of 
 
288 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 liis usefulness surround him now, and will, doubtless, increase so long as 
 our language is known. 
 
 Concerning those who die in the faith of the Gospel, abundant sources 
 of consolation open themselves to mourning survivors. The sounds of 
 our lamentations may well be hushed by the voice from heaven ; — 
 “ Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord — henceforth they rest from 
 their labours, and their works do follow them.” The great lesson to be 
 drawn from such afflictions, to the living, is — to prepare for an eternal 
 re-union, by the aid of the grace which sustained and crowned them, to 
 overcome even as they overcame, and are now at the right hand of the 
 Father. • 
 
 The departure of relatives, deepens the sadness of the mind ; child- 
 hood and youth, and the domestic hearth encircled by joyous faces, 
 cheerful by the promptings of joyous hearts, and the endeared parents, 
 and the advices given, and the bright hopes cherished — all rise and pass 
 before us, as the visions of past enchantments — as the paradise viewed 
 from a bleak world, in which we once lived, but which we can no more 
 enter : thus pensive and despairing our meditations might well be, had 
 we no means of looking forward to the future for scenes of friendship, 
 happiness, and perfection. But even the hope of the coming glory not 
 only supports, but elevates the soul above the mists and turmoil of earth ; 
 and if mere hope can effect so much, who can pourtray, or even conceive, 
 the transports, or rather the serene and boundless felicity of actual enjoy- 
 ments ! Christians, as they advance in years, gradually advance in their 
 appreciation of the Gospel ; experience detects and exposes the worth- 
 lessness of objects which once seemed valuable and so abated the force of 
 piety ; and experience also discovers the inability of mere earthly objects 
 to yield satisfaction. During the lapse of years, friends drop into the 
 grave, and new ones are not easily made ; the pleasures arising from 
 uncertainty, so exciting during the period of youth, diminish with 
 advancing years, and then we seek for something stable, on which the 
 eye and heart and affections may rest amid coming vicissitudes and afflic- 
 tions, and the prospect of death, and the revelations of the unseen 
 world : and the only rest which can be found, is in the simple truths of 
 the Gospel ! 
 
APPENDIX.— I. 
 
 EULES OF THE PHILOLOGICAL SOCIETY, 
 
 Instituted at Manchester, September 23, 1803.* 
 
 In Physica Causa quserendi, in Ethic a Ordo vivendi, in Logic a Ratio 
 intelligendi versatur. — Isidor. 
 
 Object of the Society : 
 
 1. To gain useful knowledge in order to diffuse it ; — to cultivate 
 Literature and Science in general, polemic Politics and polemic 
 Divinity only excepted. 
 
 Num ber o f Resident Mem bers : 
 
 2. Not to exceed thiuty ; but to admit, on its own rules, corre- 
 sponding Members to the amount of fifty. 
 
 3. Two Secretaries of Arts, &c., whose business is to register 
 accounts of new discoveries in Arts and Sciences, curious facts in natural 
 history, notices ^and explanations of antiquities, inscriptions, &c., and to 
 write official letters on these subjects to corresponding Members. 
 
 Who may be admitted Members of this Society : 
 
 4. Scientific persons, of all religious sects and parties, (for Science 
 knows nothing of religious divisions;) and as the Rules preclude all 
 controversies on religion and politics, consequently that union and 
 good understanding, which are essential to all institutions of this nature, 
 can never be impaired, how different soever the religious tenets of the 
 Members may be. But no person shall be admitted as a Member, who is 
 not of an unblameable moral conduct ; nor be continued as one after he 
 has forfeited that character ; as the Members of this Institution are of 
 opinion, that no person can successfully cultivate those Sciences, the end 
 
 * In 1801 an Institution of a similar nature, under the same name, was established at 
 Liverpool, between whose Members and those of this Society a Literary Intercourse is 
 kept up. 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 T 
 
290 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 of which is to promote piety towards God, and beneficence towards men,, 
 whose moral conduct is not conformed to the unchangeable principles of 
 integrity and truth. 
 
 Conditions on which Members are admitted : 
 
 6. No person shall be admitted, either as a resident or corresponding 
 Member, but on the following conditions: — 1st, of his producing an 
 ORIGINAL Paper, on some question proposed by the Society ; or on some 
 subject of his otvn choosing, immediately connected with the object of the 
 Institution ; or, 2dly, an original Translation of some useful and 
 important matter, taken from any of the dead or living languages, 
 European or Asiatic; or, 3dly, an extract from or epitome of some 
 important and useful work, which is either too voluminous to be easily 
 read, too scarce to be readily met with, or too dear to be purchased by 
 the generality of readers. 
 
 N.B. Recent Publicatious of every kind are excluded from the 
 provision in this last Clause : ancient, and comparatively ancient 
 works shall alone be the subject of such epitomising or abridgement. No 
 person is expected to produce a paper j^revious to his admission. 
 
 6. Each Member shall produce such a paper in his turn. The paper 
 shall be read by its author, if a resident Member ; or if from a corres- 
 ponding Member, shall be read by the Secretary, or the person to whom 
 it is sent ; and if any person neglect to bring or send in his paper by tho 
 time appointed he shall forfeit 10s. 6d. 
 
 7. All corresponding Members shall furnish the Society with a paper 
 at least every six months. 
 
 Mode of conducting Business : 
 
 8. As soon as a paper is read, the subject of it shall be freely and 
 minutely discussed by the Society ; and each Member shall speak in his 
 turn without interruption, once for all on that subject, unless by way of 
 explanation. But in this, and all such cases, the President shall have 
 power to prevent desultory and irrelevant conversation ; and to determine 
 when enough has been said on the point. 
 
 9. One night each Month shall be devoted either to Biblical 
 Criticism, Physico or Astro-Theology, or to Experimental 
 Philosophy. 
 
 10. Two or more Members may write upon the same subject, and in 
 matters of importance this shall be preferred; 1. That the subject may 
 be amply considered ; and 2. That the Members may have a greater 
 opportunity for improvement, by having their talents called more fre- 
 quently into action. 
 
 11. All papers, when revised and fairly transcribed by the authors, 
 shall be deposited with the President, for the use of the Society. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 291 
 
 12. Every three months, if found expedient, five Members, chosen 
 by ballot, shall be appointed as a Committee of Inspection, to examine 
 said papers, and select from them such as they may deem of most im- 
 portance; these papers shall be read at a meeting of the Society, and 
 the opinion of the Members taken by ballot, relative to the propriety of 
 their being made public. The papers not admitted after such inspection 
 and reading, shall be returned to their authors ; and no paper shall be 
 published in the name of the Society without its consent ; but the author, 
 on his request, shall be permitted to publish it himself, should he think 
 that the Society delays the publication too long. 
 
 Miscellaneous Regulations. 
 
 13. To carry the design of this Institution more effectually into 
 practice, certain Artists shall be chosen, who may be present at each 
 Meeting of the Society ; and who, hearing discussions concerning im- 
 provements in the mechanic Arts, Machines to be constructed, models 
 and drawings to be made, shall be employed to make such models, plans, 
 &c., as the Members shall devise for the exemplification of the principles 
 laid down, but such artists shall not be bound by the rules which oblige 
 the THIRTY resident Members to be constant in their attendance.. The. 
 artists to be chosen also by ballot, and be subject to all Rules, &c., of the 
 Society, in the same manner as the resident Members, only not be con- 
 sidered in the number of the Thirty. 
 
APPENDIX.— II. 
 
 DISREPUTABLE MINISTERIAL TREATMENT OP DR. CLARKE. 
 
 The conduct of some of the Wesleyan Preachers towards Adam Clarke, 
 led on by Jabez Bunting, w’as long matter of notoriety, as well as grief 
 to his numerous friends; the party, seeking in various ways, to insult 
 and degrade him, while living, and to detract from his merit when dead. 
 A writer, in one of the Metropolitan journals, adverting to the subject, 
 observes, “That not only was Adam Clarke the object of unjustifiable 
 hostility, but the same party sought to insult and degrade his attached 
 friends, two of whom were made to feel the exercise of their revengeful 
 power, through the medium of the Conference, in 1849, by an un- 
 righteous expulsion from the body.” The reader will have perceived, in 
 perusing the Memoir, that Adam Clarke was especially set apart for the 
 ministry by the Rev. John Wesley, in a solemn manner, and so great was 
 Mr. Wesley’s regard for Mr. Clarke, then not more than twenty-two 
 years of age, that he admitted him into full connexion after travelling 
 as a preacher only eleven months. Mr. Wesley opened, and continued 
 to the last few days of his life, a free, confiding, and important corres- 
 pondence with him, which confirmed the latter in those noble principles 
 of independence of action which he so eminently excelled in, and which 
 so greatly aided his elevation in the estimation of Europe and the world ; 
 while this independence was, in no small degree, the terror of the growing 
 power of the Bunting party of the Conference. John Wesley appointed 
 Mr. Clarke one of his executors. 
 
 The year following Mr. Wesley’s death, the Conference made its first 
 attack on ]\Ir. Clarke, as appears from a letter written by him to Henry 
 Moore, his countryman and co-executor to Mr. Wesley’s will. This 
 letter is dated ISTovember 2, 1792, and its allusions are to the conduct of 
 Dr. Whitehead, in reference to Mr. Wesley’s MSS. Dr. Coke was then 
 manager- general of the Conference, but w'as afterwards supplanted. 
 Mr. Clarke thus proceeds ; — 
 
 “ When the late extraordinary address was carrying on by Dr. Coke 
 and Mr. Pawson, I opposed it with all my might. I was flattered to 
 accede to it ; — this was in vain. I was threatened ; this no way shook 
 
APPE^^DIX. 
 
 293 
 
 my determination to oppose. I was then told, ‘ Your father has been a 
 great expense to Kingswood, and this, if you continue to oppose, may be 
 brought up against your feelings in such a way as you do not now know.” 
 His father had by due authority been placed at Kingswood School, as a 
 Tutor ; and availing themselves of this, they hoped to bring him over to 
 their views. The reply to this was, ‘‘ What expense has my father been ? ” 
 ‘ Oh ! the Conference gave him fifty pounds.’ ‘ Well, that shall not 
 cause me to act against my judgment ; and my father shall neither be 
 beholden to you, nor to the Conference.’ I went home, took a list of the 
 best books I had in the world to two booksellers : — ‘ What will you give 
 me for these, ready money ? ’ ‘ Forty pounds.’ Porters were ordered, 
 
 and my heart’s blood was packed up and sent off. Xext I sold some of 
 my philosophical and astronomical instruments, which I had been collect- 
 ing for years, and raised about ten pounds more by them. I then went 
 and paid down to Mr. Whitfield fifty pounds on behalf of the Kingswood 
 school. They were thunderstruck — confounded! They saw, and saw 
 
 painfully, that, by the grace of God, I was incorruptible, and not to be 
 turned from following the dictates of my conscience by threatening; 
 and that a man in my case ‘could swear to his own hurt and change 
 not.’ Were I with you I could make you weep ; and freeze and thaw 
 your blood. The books are gone, and some, too, of the best and the 
 scarcest in Europe, which no money can replace. My Mary wept, and 
 from my own strong eyes a reluctant tear now and then dropped ! 
 But it is passed, and by the grace of the Lord of the universe I still 
 live independent of those parties who tried to inthral me.” — Vide Henry 
 Moords Life, 
 
 Such conduct was discreditable to the parties. Adam’s father had 
 been placed at Kingswood as a tutor, by authority, as every way qualified 
 to discharge the duties of the office, and the “ fifty pounds ” showed that 
 he was worthy of the trust reposed in him. Why upbraid the son with 
 that which belonged to the father, if even the latter had done wrong ? 
 Did they expect the father to discharge the office gratuitously ? If he 
 received a salary, it was what others had done who preceded him. And 
 if the “ fifty pounds ” was extra, it was the more to his credit ! 
 
 During the years 1806-1808, “ Mr. Clarke regularly preached in all 
 the different chapels in his then widely- extended circuit, besides engaging 
 in much pastoral labour, visiting the sick, comforting the afflicted, &c. 
 In the discharge of his duties, his health and strength suffered much 
 injury.” During these years he was subject to very great, but little 
 known, or even suspected, pecuniary privations, which could not turn 
 aside the stern integrity or the disinterestedness of his generous mind, 
 as the following example will testify. 
 
 In the month of June, 1807, so great and important had been 
 
294 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 Dr. Clarke’s ‘‘gratuitous exertions in the British and Foreign Bible 
 Society,” that the committee of that Society, as has been seen, unani- 
 mously voted him the sum of £50. The following reply is copied from the 
 original in Dr. Clarke’s handwriting: — “With great respect and grati- 
 tude I return the £50 which have been kindly sent me by the committee 
 of the British and Foreign Bible Society. To no principle whence my 
 services proceed, to no feeling of my heart can I reconcile the acceptance 
 of the Society’s bounty. What I have done was for the sake of God and 
 his truth ; and I feel myself greatly honoured in having a part in this 
 blessed work. « ^ God forbid that I should receive any of the 
 
 Society’s funds : let this money, therefore, return to its source, and if it 
 be the instrument of carrying but one additional Bible to any place or 
 family previously destitute of the words of eternal life, how much reason 
 shall I have to thank God that it never became part of my property ! ” 
 
 In February, 1808, Dr. Clarke ^vas engaged by the government in a 
 commission on the public records of the kingdom. For some time he 
 refused any remuneration for his services, until a remonstrance from the 
 commissioners obliged him to receive an annual income much below the 
 average given for such important services. We learn, from a letter 
 written by the secretary to the commissioners to Mr. Clarke (the original 
 of which is now on the table), that the Doctor afterwards relinquished 
 £50 a-year of this limited sum, that so much might be added to the 
 income of one of his assistants. Methodist preachers of the present day, 
 although now well and regularly paid, exemplify no such liberality, but 
 rather the contrary, especially in the Mission House^ where Dr. Clarke’s 
 small friend — Dr. Bunting — sat supreme in “ easy circumstances,” with 
 Mr. Hoole to relieve him of labour. (See “Methodism as It Is,” vol. i.,^ 
 p. 197.) 
 
 In the summer of 1808, Dr. Clarke was appointed principal librarian 
 of the Surrey Institution. This office he faithfully served one year, and 
 then resigned from a conviction of the evil eflects the secular duties were 
 likely to have upon his heart and mind — a fear apparently unfelt in 
 the Mission- House. He refused any remuneration for his services. To 
 attend to the duties of this office, the Doctor had to discontinue week- 
 evening preaching, and, in consequence, he refused to accept more 
 than half his ministerial stipend, this being then the only means he 
 had of subsistence for himself and family, and for more than a year he 
 had not received any of this! The pecuniary privations he was subject to 
 on this account are referred to in an unpublished letter of Dr. Clarke, 
 
 bearing date, April 26, 1809. He says: “I have no doubt Mrs. ’s 
 
 is a case of real distress, and I should be glad to help her, but when you 
 hear that I have not received one groat since last Conference from any 
 quarter, and that we have been obliged to borrow money to get food, you 
 will i^erceive I can do nothing. According to my promise to my brethren 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 LifO 
 
 I have relinquished all sources of support, and they have been so perfectly 
 kind and considerate as to leave me without a penny, when, to please 
 ihem^ I sacrificed £600 per annum during life. Yet God is sufficient, and 
 I must trust in him alone.” Do Methodist preachers of the present day 
 give up place and pension worth £600 a-year, to please their brethren” 
 and remain in the ministry? Jabez Bunting is represented as giving up 
 lucrative prospects, which he never had, nor was likely ever to enjoy, 
 with a view to elevate his character ; but he is sadly dwarfed when placed 
 by the side of the man whom he sought to degrade. (See “ Methodism 
 as It Is,” vol. ii., p. 409 — 411.) 
 
 The original prospectus of Dr. Clarke’s Commentary is open on the 
 table, and is dated June 12, 1810. Soon as it appeared a meeting of the 
 Methodist Book Committee required Mr. Benson to draw up a prospectus 
 announcing another Commentary, to be published in parts, the same as 
 Dr. Clarke’s — to be the same size, price, type and paper as Dr. Clarke’s ; 
 the first part to appear immediately. Without asking Mr. Benson if he 
 felt qualified for the task, he was told by the dominant party that he 
 must do it, and that all the weight and influence of Conference would be 
 at once given to the new Commentary, and all the preachers were urged 
 to promote its sale. Efforts were made to bring out the first part before 
 Dr. Clarke’s; so that “ the Society” might commence subscribing to the 
 Conference Commentary before the prior-announced and legitimate 
 original work could get out of the printer’s hands. There is evidence of 
 the mischief produced by this dictatorial conduct of the Conference in 
 the various circuits, but which is withheld for the present. But a word 
 on the issue of all this. Did the Conference compensate Mr. Benson for 
 his ready submission to write against an equally pious but more learned 
 brother? Ask his pious son, the Bev. Samuel Benson, chaplain of St. 
 Saviour’s, Southwark. 
 
 If he, through modesty, throws a veil over the sad picture, we can 
 answer from his own mother’s (Mrs. Benson’s) letters — carefully pre- 
 served — can show that the family suffered privations to which the 
 preachers’ families of modern times could scarce give credence. How 
 fared Dr. Clarke and his commentary? Let Mr. Tegg and Mr. John 
 Mason com^^are ledgers, and then give the answer. Every bookseller in 
 England and America can answer this question. Persecution is the best 
 recommendation of a good work ; hence Clarke’s Commentary is found 
 wherever the English language is known ; while the other, being chiefly 
 a compilation, can scarcely live in England with the aid of ill- designed 
 though well* executed pictures to recommend it. Clarke’s “Commentary,” 
 when revised for a new edition, was offered to the Methodist Book Com- 
 mittee. This infallible corporation would not reprint certain sentiments 
 the “ Commentary ” contained, and so declined the offer. The family of 
 Dr. Clarke proposed to omit from the notes every line the Conference 
 
296 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 objected to, but, in the terms of a note, copied from the book-room 
 jouimal, they still declined to purchase. The copyright was then offered 
 to Mr. Tegg, by Mr. Everett, commissioned by the Doctor, when Mr. 
 Tegg, with his usual liberality, bought it at once — giving £2,000 for 
 the cojDyright, and before he died, had realised by the sale of the work the 
 princely sum of £30,000. The Bunting party in Methodism know this, 
 and yet they tell the ‘‘people called IMethodists,” in their published 
 Minutes annually, how anxiously they labour to get profits “ for the 
 spread of the Gospel.” Do they publish an account of the appropriation 
 of the profits of the book concern ? Is it true, that this petty tyranny 
 of the “ dominant party ” has not yet permitted a copy of Dr. Clarke’s 
 “ Commentary ” to find its way into the library of the Didsbury Theo- 
 logical Institution? Let the librarian answer; — for it is well known, 
 that John Hannah, the Theological Tutor, has been heard, with a view 
 to show his superior wisdom, to speak disparagingly of the work ; so that 
 if found on the shelves, it will not be there by his consent. Jabez 
 Bunting had, by this time, become a power in the Book Committee, and 
 the more effectually to preserve Dr. Clarke’s Commentary in the back 
 ground, urged, some time after this, Mr. Watson to undertake one, 
 but this project failed, as Mr. W. only lived long enough to finish one 
 volume, showing, as in his “Institutes” — both excellent — a great deal of 
 borrowed learning. 
 
 In January, 1819, Dr. Clarke wrote a letter to the missionary secre- 
 taries to report the progress in education, &c., made by the priests 
 who had been placed under his care by the committee. The following 
 is a copy of the letter (vide “ jMethodist Magazine,” March, 1819). In 
 the June number of the same Magazine are found two pages of unjust 
 and bitter strictures on Dr. Clarke’s letter. In the July number of the 
 same work is a brief, formal objection taken by the missionary secretaries 
 to the above strictures against Dr. Clarke’s veracity and moral character; 
 and in the August number the same officials prevail upon the editor to 
 publish more than seven pages of very formal “ remarks” on the above- 
 named strictures. In the same month sat the Conference at Bristol, 
 whence a correspondence issued with Dr. Clarke at Millbrook, which has 
 never been published except by reading the letters in Conference. The 
 first consists of two resolutions. The first resolution is — “ That in future 
 the editor of our Magazine, before he insert in that work any communi- 
 cation which involves the character, opinions, or writings of any preacher, 
 or the general interests of the Connexion, shall have the consent of the 
 majority of the Book Committee.” The second resolution assures Dr. C. 
 of the “ affectionate respect of their body,” and invites him to the next 
 Conference. The clause in the second resolution, relating to Dr. Clarke’s 
 opinion on the Sonship, is written, notwithstanding the accompaniment 
 of “ affectionate respect ” with undeserved keenness and severity, and 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 297 
 
 shows the “ hand of Esau ” to be in it. The Doctor’s reply must have been 
 sensibly felt. The Conference letter is signed, “Jonathan Crowther, 
 President ; Jabez Bunting, Secretary.” The president probably signed 
 the letter innocently enough, but who will undertake to say as much for 
 the secretary ? 
 
 Turn now to Dr. Clarke’s reply, date4 August 5. The following ex- 
 tracts are not garbled : “ The editor has, it seems, published hitherto 
 what he pleased (in the Magazine), and as no censure is placed upon 
 the late unprincipled conduct of that Magazine and its publishers, I am 
 left to seek redress where it may promise to be found. For the sake of 
 continued union with my brethren, I have, without one sigh, sacrificed 
 not only honours, but thousands of gold and silver. I believe they have 
 in general deeply felt the unchristian usage I have received, not only of 
 late, but for some years past, through the medium of the Magazine ; and 
 if I have ever fallen in the opinion of any of them, it was in consequence 
 of my bearing silently such unjustifiable attacks when the means of re- 
 pulsion were amply in my own power.” Here follows, in Dr. Clarke’s 
 letter, the appeal which has been alluded to, which is thus summed up : 
 — “ If the Conference thinks proper to record the blackening clause 
 already referred to, I beg the favour of being speedily informed of it, as 
 in that case I shall be obliged to make a communication to the brethren, 
 of some importance to myself, before they close their sittings.” Will the 
 reader find it difficult to premise what was the nature of this communi- 
 cation ? If he does, he can be told. 
 
 Methodism could ill spare Dr. Clarke at that time. On this subject 
 there is much to say, suggested by the honourable mention- of the doctor 
 in the lately published “ Life of the First Viscount Sidmouth,” rela- 
 ting to which, the unpublished letters of Lord Sidmouth (at that time 
 the first Minister of the Crown) to Dr. Clarke, reveal some facts of sin- 
 gular interest to Methodism, wffiich have an important bearing on the 
 point now considered, but wffiich is omitted at present. Had Dr. Clarke 
 felt the iron hand of tyranny and despotism, swayed by the Bunting 
 party, then in the plenitude of its power, when he wrote the above 
 letter to the Conference, after thirty-eight years’ active service as a 
 Methodist preacher? But the worst is not told yet. The Conference 
 reply to the Doctor’s letter, dated Aug. 6, was signed in the same 
 way as the former letter. It was as cruel in sentiment as it was 
 dictatorial in expression. That it in no way met the wishes of the 
 deeply grieved, insulted, and innocent Doctor, wdll be seen from the 
 following extract from his second reply to the President of the Con- 
 ference. It is dated Millbrook, August 9. He proceeds : “ I now call 
 upon the brethren through you, Sir, their present head under God, to do 
 me justice against the act of the publisher or publishers, of a certain 
 letter printed in a late number of the ‘ Methodist Magazine,* because 
 
298 
 
 ADAM CLAKKE. 
 
 among other reprehensible things, that letter contains insinuations grossly 
 prejudicial to my moral character. What you have done by a recent 
 vote, does not embrace or touch my case, though it ought to have done 
 it most pointedly, but it is merely intended to prevent a recurrence of 
 ■such dangerous conduct in reference to others; but the injury to a 
 brother who loves you is entirely passed by, and no solemn vote of the 
 Oonference condemns the outrage done to him ; but the public, who do 
 not know him, are left to suppose that he is ‘ ignorant of the moral state 
 of the nation ; can neglect the interests of his country ; sit in his study 
 ;and write lies in favour of missions.’ I demand no punishment to be 
 inflicted on the writer of these sentiments ; none on the publisher or 
 publishers of his letter. I leave them to the J udge of all the Earth ; 
 but I do demand, as a member of the Methodist body, a positive vote of 
 ■censure on that letter. This need not take up five minutes of the time 
 of Conference ; and if this be not done, the good sense and feeling of the 
 brethren will at once perceive what the alternative must be.” 
 
 By the kind consideration of an ex-president of the Conference, a 
 supplemental letter of Dr. Clarke, more pointed than even the foregoing, is 
 in possession. If needs be the correspondence can be published in extenso^ 
 with notes, critical and descriptive, by a preacher who was present at the 
 Bristol Conference in 1819. 
 
 For years, these facts had been known to many of the preachers ; 
 but to the dominant party, which had so long ruled supreme, they 
 had no warning voice. Now the “ people called Methodists ” must 
 know them. Tyranny and persecution continued as rampant and 
 unsparing as . ever, even towards senior preachers of the body, who had 
 most faithfully laboured to maintain the spiritual character of Methodism 
 against the secularizing influences of localised rulers. These persecutions, 
 since the death of Dr, Coke, had but one source, and were found so 
 severe, that the vitality of Methodism was threatened by them — the timid 
 were awed almost to death by them — and thousands dared not open their 
 lips against the power exercised without mercy by their rulers. “ Let the 
 Manchester laymen,” one observes, “ or the score itinerant preachers 
 (so called) who had been so long snugly housed in the metropolitan 
 preserves, disprove the statements, if they can. Unless this tyranny be 
 broken by the people or the legislature, it will break up Methodism. 
 How many preachers’ sons of the Methodists have now livings in the 
 Church of England ? The president and secretary of the late Conference 
 can both answer this question, and also give the reason, no doubt, why 
 their sons have not submitted their necks to the yoke of their fathers. 
 But allow a word more about the venerable Adam Clarke,” 
 
 When seventy summers had silvered the head of Dr. Clarke, he 
 naturally sought for more easy employment than had fallen to his lot 
 during so long a life of Herculean labours ; commenced too early in life 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 
 for himself, and closed, alas ! too soon for the church and the world. He 
 had often expressed a strong objection to being put down as a supernu- 
 merary ; this went for nothing in Conference — the ruling power must be 
 absolute — Dr. Clarke was “put down.” Open at p. 310, vol. hi., of 
 Dr. Clarke’s “Family Life.” In a letter there, he says : “I feel that I 
 have been ill-used in that work which God called me to, and which Mr. 
 Wesley, with his own hands, confirmed me in, — by their (the Conference) 
 setting me down for a supernumerary against remonstrances made to the 
 president himself, Mr. G. Marsden. When I found how it was, without 
 opening the paper containing the usual annuity given to the superannuated 
 preachers on their becoming such, I returned it immediately, and told 
 Mr. Stanley not to enter my name on the next preachers’ plan.” Is it to 
 be thought that Dr. Clarke knew not by whom, and from what motive it 
 was, he was put down? On this subject, evidence in the Doctor’s hand- 
 writing, dated only eighteen days before his death, which has never yet 
 been published, and was originally confided to a friend of the senior 
 missionary secretary’s, is still available. 
 
 Time fails at present to tell of half the acts of tyranny shown towards 
 Dr. Clarke by the Conference, from the date of Mr. Wesley’s death. 
 There are many unpublished letters and documents in possession, kindly 
 lent or sent, by Methodist preachers of sixty, fifty, forty, thirty, and 
 twenty years’ standing in the Connexion, some of which would make a 
 strong man of sensibility shudder were he to read how the Doctor was 
 persecuted, because he refused to be a party to, or to sanction the doings 
 of the “ Bunting-upon-Coke ” government, without once writing a line 
 in reply. It is certain, however, that they will not always be unpublished 
 documents. There is a sad chapter yet to be published, of perverseness, 
 tyranny, and persecution shown to the memory of that truly great man 
 and profound scholar, since his death, as well as to the greater part of 
 his endeared personal friends, which has not been noticed. 
 
 Turn to the “ Methodist Magazine” for February and March, 1833 ; 
 read there the review of Dr. Clarke’s life by the book-room editor, (the 
 Rev. Thomas Jackson, President,) the literary mouthpiece of the 
 Conference; then say if he has any “bowels of mercy” towards 
 a man whom he nevertheless denominates, at page 213, “ one of 
 the most distinguished scholars of his age.” If wiser men had not so 
 called Dr. Clarke before the reviewer, the world would not receive his 
 testimony after reading his review. Did George Osborn ever happen to 
 open the “ Methodist Magazine ” at the page and year named, before 
 that young aspirant after place wrote his attack on the unsullied purity 
 of Dr. Clarke’s memory ? There is in hand a 9 6 -pounder full charged in 
 reply to that young man’s petty impertinence in a number of the Watch- 
 man, Why do not the preachers read early Methodism ? 
 
 How fared the unflinching and stern friend of Adam Clarke, Mr. S. 
 
300 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 Drew, when in the hands of the same Conference editor ? Open at page 
 361 of the “Imperial Magazine” for 1834; read the letter there; then 
 ask if the officials of the Methodist Conference ever attacked the memory 
 of Dr. C. in the person of his friend Drew ? 
 
 Some of these instances of unkindness to unoffending worth have 
 been noticed in the Memoir ; but here they are more expanded, with 
 additional light thrown upon them ; and they are grouped together, 
 the more deeply to impress the mind of the reader with the strength 
 of Dr. Clarke’s attachment to John Wesley’s Methodism, and his un- 
 wavering endeavours to promote its interests, while sufiPering from some 
 of his brethren. 
 
 One of the worst cases, perhaps the worst, is the conduct of the 
 Book-Committee towards him, in reference to the ‘‘ Wesley Family,” 
 which has been partly noticed in the Memoir, but not fully brought 
 out, in mercy to the wrong-doers and their prime instigator — Jabez 
 Bunting: the case, however, is more largely dealt with, in “Methodism 
 as It Is,” vol. i. p. 116 — 118. 
 
 Mr. Thomas Marriott took a deep interest in the publication of “ The 
 Wesley Family,” and rendered good service to Dr. Clarke in its 
 composition, by furnishing him with valuable materials to work upon, all 
 of which the present biographer has bound up in an interleaved copy of 
 the first edition, showing the superior value of the second over its 
 predecessor. Mr. Marriott felt highly indignant at the conduct of the 
 Committee — the men themselves, apparently deeply conscious of wrong- 
 doing^ and not a little ashamed of it, having to resort to duplicity and 
 prevarication, if not to direct falsehood^ to put a decent face upon their 
 conduct when accidentally brought to light. The writer has a large 
 correspondence between himself, Mr. Marriott, and Dr. Clarke on the 
 subject, part of which, will sufficiently confirm the truth of the state- 
 ments as they stand in the pages of “Methodism as it is,” and which 
 are here recorded, to be handed down to posterity with a portrayal of 
 Adam Clarke. 
 
 In a letter of Dr. Clarke to the present writer, on the general subject, 
 he observes, “ I shall send them (the Papers of the Wesley Family) to the 
 Book Committee to be disposed of as they think proper.” He adds, in 
 reference to the first edition, having given the Committee power to do 
 with the MS. what they thought proper, — “they left out many things 
 which I should have left in,” and other things “ were changed.” “The 
 work was mostly printed off while I was working in Scotland and Ireland* 
 I am busy with a second edition, which will be a noble book in 2 vols.” 
 March 11, 1824. 
 
 The conduct of the members of the Committee was such, as would have 
 disgraced mere men of the world. This is a serious charge ; but the 
 Secretary is cited to support it. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 301 
 
 To THE Key. Adam Clarke, LL.D. 
 
 Sir, — I am directed by the Book Committee to transmit to you the 
 folio wiDg Resolution — ‘ That Dr. Adam Clarke be respectfully requested 
 to accept 30 copies of his Memoirs of the Wesley Family, together with 
 the grateful acknowledgment of the Committee acting on behalf of the 
 Conference, for the very satisfactory manner in which he has brought 
 that work to its completion, and for the liberality with which he has 
 acted toward the Connexion in this business. — I am, Sir, yours very 
 respectfully, Rd. Waddy, Secretary.” 
 
 As a return to the Doctor for his literary toil, and a proof of the 
 genuineness of their “ grateful acknowledgment ” of his “ liberality f they 
 oompliraent him with “ 30 copies ” of the work drawn out of its vast profits, 
 crowning the whole with an expression of the pleasurable emotion felt at the 
 ‘ ‘ satisfactory manner ’ ’ in which the work had been completed , and the entire 
 “ business'''^ had been prosecuted and closed. To show the completeness 
 of their satisfaction^ as well as the sincerity and amount of their gratitude^ 
 they no sooner obtained the work, than they began, in the esteem of the 
 author and donor, to mutilate it, by leaving 7nany things ” out which 
 he would have retained, and “ changing others,” which ought to have 
 remained as they were ! What a mortification to an author, already in 
 favour with the public ! And who composed the board around which the 
 critics sat? Go at once to the head, — the man, who, at least, considered 
 himself such. Just a little before the date of Dr. Clarke’s letter of March 
 11, 1824, at a time when the biographer was in London, the warehouse 
 of the Book-room, 14, City-Road, was relieved of a quantity of “ dead- 
 stock f the accumulation of years. Among some tons, sold as waste paper ^ 
 was to be found Jabez Bunting’s maiden sermon on ‘‘ I am doing a great 
 work,” preached before the teachers and children of Sabbath Schools, 
 Reece’s Martyrology,” &c. &c. ; but none of Adam Clarke’s works were 
 to be found among the waste ! 
 
 Dr. Clarke having reason to believe, that the first edition of the 
 “ Wesley Family ” was sold, presented a second edition, greatly enlarged, 
 (which was afterwards published in his “ Miscellaneous Works,” by Tegg) 
 in the same handsome way as the first, which was thus acknowledged — 
 
 ‘‘ 14, City Boad, 13iA Jan., 1829. 
 
 ‘‘ The Rev. A. Clarke. 
 
 “ Dear Sir, — Your letter proposing the publication of a second 
 edition to the ‘Wesley Family,’ in 2 vols., octavo, was laid before the 
 Book Committee, and I am directed to transmit to you the following 
 Resolution, viz. : — ‘ That a respectful and affectionate letter be addressed 
 to Dr. Clarke, informing him that part of the first edition is not yet sold 
 
302 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 off ; but the Committee hope that at some future period^ a new edition 
 will be called for, when it will afford them pleasure to see before the 
 public the additions and improvefnents referred to in his letter. — I am, 
 dear Sir, very respectfully, Ed. Waddy, Secretary.” 
 
 On the fly-leaf of the letter in which the Doctor transmitted a copy 
 of the letter to his friend, Thomas Marriott, Esq., and which was trans- 
 mitted by the latter to the biographer, he wrote as follows : — “ Dear Mr. 
 Marriott, I have received this letter [the above] by this post. Do you 
 know what the intent may be? You inquired about the sale of the 
 Wesley Lives, and you were told ‘ it is entirely out of print, and there 
 was not a copy to be had at the Book-room.’ Mr. Loutit went and en- 
 quired, and he was told the same story. He went to the shop in P.IST.E. 
 [Paternoster Eow] and inquired, and they said there were only about 
 three copies left. What, then am I to understand by this official letter 1 
 — Yours truly, A. Clarke.” 
 
 This letter will be found p. 183 of this volume* 
 
 What is to be thought of the sincerity of men, who profess to address 
 a ^'‘respectful and affectionate^^ letter to a highly respectable brother- 
 minister, who had laid the body to which they belonged, and from which 
 they derived their support, under serious obligation, — who left the man 
 in such a position, after his generous offer, as to deprive him of any 
 advantage to be reaped from the work, by publishing it himself, — and 
 who, rather than allow the flock to be fed with “ knowledge and under- 
 standing,” would, in the exercise of unchristian and unbrotherly feeling, 
 place an interdict on its appearance ? They prevented, as far as they had 
 it in their power, the '‘'future period’''' from ever arriving, which they 
 expressed a “ hope ” they should see, and which would afford them ” 
 so much "‘pleasure!’''' There was no “let or hindrance,” except in 
 themselves, to exercise the brightest “ hopeff and satiate themselves with 
 “ pleasure ” of the purest kind — “ the luxury of doing good.” The first 
 edition was out of the market — a second edition was luanted — that, itself, 
 was in their hand — and there was no lack of funds^ to prevent it from 
 being put to press ! And look at the trick resorted to, in order to prevent 
 the appearance of a lie, and as though conscience could be preserved pure 
 in the sight of God in the midst of such duplicity and un-" brotherly 
 kindness ;” — they keep " two or three copies ” on the shelf, to enable 
 them to say to the Doctor that the first edition is not sold off, and retain 
 them there for the purpose of keeping a second edition out of the market ! 
 We are reminded, in the exercise of such conduct, of a remark by Southey : 
 — “There is a species of falsehood which consists in nothing but truth, 
 but by telling a part of the truth, producing all the effects of falsehood^ 
 (Letters, vol, ii., p. 302.) Such was the respect of these devout men, 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 80S 
 
 towards a ministerial brother and benefactor. In all these meetings, Dr. 
 Bunting, who had them packed with his nominees, friends, and supporters^ 
 and who themselves gained an influence, and somewhat of respectability,, 
 by their elevation, could, at any time, command a majority, for or against,, 
 any man or measure he pleased. 
 
 A sketch of the character of Mr. Thomas Marriott, who was so* 
 indignant at the conduct of the Book Committee, and who was so 
 anxious to see the second edition of the “ Wesley Family ” published^ 
 was given to the public, in the “Wesleyan Times,” of March 26, 1866^ 
 drawn up by Mr. John Middleton Hare, the writer of “ Betrospective 
 Glances” of successive Wesleyan Conferences, in the columns of the 
 same Journal. The Sketch closes with, — “ Although till death he was 
 Treasurer of the General Chapel Fund, and Member of the Committee- 
 of Privileges, we do not find his name on the Missionary Committee. An 
 old Methodist, who knew him well, and visited him in his later days^ 
 declared him to be displeased with Dr. Buntiug’s proceedings. He was 
 a constant reader of the ‘Wesleyan Times’ in order to see what was 
 going on ; but, as he said, he did not confess the fact to everybody. ‘ I 
 am too old to contend,’ he observed to one of his friends. ‘ My friends 
 are nearly all preachers, or preachers’ men ; and I should not like to be 
 forsaken or abused, which would inevitably follow, were I to declare my 
 real sentiments.’ ” In these remarks there was a reference to the dis- 
 ruption of 1849, its antecedents, and effects, when the despotic character 
 of Dr. Bunting reached its acme, and the Conference was condemned by 
 the British Public, civil and religious, for the unrighteous expulsion of 
 three of its Ministers. 
 
 Mr. Marriott’s position in life — the time he devoted to the interest& 
 of the Connexion, especially the Chapels, and his annual subscriptions to 
 the Missionary, and other Funds, entitled him to a place on the Mis- 
 sionary Committee ; — but, but — he would have had a voice in that 
 Committee on Missionary affairs, against the management of which there 
 were so many complaints, and in which Dr. Bunting was deeply impli- 
 cated ; — he was also an exact man, and as the wise man’s eyes are in his 
 head, it was proper that he should be kept in the outer circle, so far at Mis- 
 sionary matters were concerned ; and besides, he was the known, attached 
 friend of Dr. Clarke. This, with Jabez, settled the business. He had 
 not only given full proof of his love to the Missionary cause for a .series 
 of years, during life, but left £10,000 to the Missionary Fund at his 
 death. Mr. Marriott gave proof too, that he not only loved Dr. Clarke, 
 but the Doctor’s friends, having, according to the writer of the Sketch, 
 “ left, among other bequests, £100 to James Everett, an old friend ” of 
 his own, as well as of Dr. Clarke. 
 
 The Book Committee, not only prevented an augmentation of the 
 profits arising from the sale of Dr. Clarke’s works, through the influence 
 
304 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 and unjustifiable prejudice of Dr. Bunting, but lavished its wealth on 
 Dr. Bunting's favourite — Richard Watson. Dr. Beaumont, in the latter 
 case, as a member of the Committee, said, “ I deem it incumbent upon 
 mo to protest against the decision of the Book Committee in the bargain 
 made by it for the papers left by Mr. Watson, as it recognises principles 
 which never were, and which I hope never will be, admitted and sanc- 
 tioned in the Connexion ; as not leaving to the Conference the power 
 of a veto even upon a transaction in which all its Members are essen- 
 tially and equally concerned ; as a partial and extravagant expenditure 
 of a large amount (£2,000) of public money, the return of which, in 
 clear profit for a long time to come is not even probable; and as 
 diverting to the benefit of individuals that money which ought to have 
 been employed in carrying on the triumph of the Gospel among our 
 home population — contrary to all our oft-repeated professions, and to 
 the spirit and genius and practice of Methodism, whose object, aim, 
 and vocation are, not to take- care of particular persons, but to spread 
 Scriptural Christianity throughout the land.” (See “Methodism as It Is,” 
 ¥ol. i., p. 119.) 
 
 Dr. Clarke was not only pursued in this Committee, by the insatiable 
 spirit of envy, for a course of years during life, but it was found in active 
 operation after his death, on the Committee objecting to the erection of a 
 monument to his memory in Ireland, objecting to give countenance to it 
 •even so much as by advertisement. Dr. Beaumont also lifted u phis voice 
 on this as on other occasions, — saying “ Having, as a member of the Book 
 Committee, been called to consider some subjects of general interest, and 
 disapproving as I do, on public grounds, of the decisions upon them which 
 have been adopted, I have no alternative left me but to lay my dissent 
 before those whose duty it is to approve or condemn the act which I 
 deplore, as wrong in principle, and injurious in effect. The Rejection 
 by the Advertising Committee of the Advertisement of a Monument to 
 Dr. Clarke, I object to, as an infringement on the principles of justice 
 and liberty, whilst the reasons on which that objection is said to be 
 grounded are, in my opinion, frivolous and vexatious, irrelevant and 
 inadequate, calculated to create an impression on the public mind highly 
 injurious to the character of Dr. Clarke, or dishonourable to the Com- 
 mittee ; nor can it, I humbly conceive, consist with the welfare of the 
 Body, that the absolute disposal of such an application should be com- 
 mitted to a small knot of men, since it is possible that it may be 
 composed entirely, or for the niost part, of persons who, from prejudice 
 and other overshadowing causes, may be incapacitated to deal with it 
 fairly and properly.” 
 
 The spirit manifested in this case, is in perfect keeping with the past. 
 The reader has seen from the Memoir, vol. ii., p. 188, that Dr. Clarke, 
 while resident at Millbrook, built a chapel, at his own cost, in a neigh- 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 305 
 
 bourhood in which was a large, poor, Roman Catholic population, out 
 of which were formed a congregation, a Christian Society, and a Sabbath 
 School. On leaving Millbrook, he offered it for ever to the Conference, 
 on condition only that they would be at the expense of the writings : 
 this was refused. When he thought of selling the estate, he reserved a 
 piece of ground for the purpose of erecting a chapel upon it, in the place 
 of the one referred to ; and this he actually did. On the event of the 
 building ever beiug shut up, he had made provision for seats, pews, and 
 pulpit to be delivered up to another Methodist Chapel. But the envy 
 and jealousy which had so long pursued him, occasioned this boon to be 
 rejected, as if his pursuers had been afraid, as in the case of the Monu- 
 ment, lest any memorial of him should survive his earthly existence — 
 themselves being so infatuated as to suppose, that, by such efforts, they 
 could obliterate the memory of such a man from the public mind. They 
 had done their utmost to prevent the sale of the “Wesley Family;” 
 they had pushed forward other works to keep his writings in the back- 
 ground ; and they did what they decently could to prevent the circu- 
 lation of his Commentary in the body. But in vain. His Monument 
 stands in Ireland in open day ; his printed and published works may be 
 pointed to with the same feelings — so far as his friends are concerned — as 
 Sir Christopher Wren pointed to St. Paul’s— his fame, as a scholar, bear- 
 ing no mean comparison with that of the great architect, for solidity, 
 durability, and extent. Alas for the fame of Adam Clarke’s 
 
 prime, envious pursuer ; it died before himself, and so “ slack was the 
 market ” for his “ Life,” that its sale could not keep it alive. 
 
 “ Envy,” as a writer observes, “ only sets the stronger seal on desert.” 
 If a man’s credit be so well and firmly builfc as to remain unshaken by 
 calumny and insinuation, envy itself will even venture to commend him 
 for his benefactions, as did the Book Committee, in the case of Dr. 
 Clarke ; but whatever they gave with the one hand, they were sure ta 
 take away with the other. They could extol his liberality, while they 
 
 refused the gift, and thus deprive him of the credit which might redound 
 
 from it in handing it down to posterity. Envy sows beside all w^aters, 
 and insinuates its poison into every action of human life. 
 
 The secret of Dr. Bunting’s power lay in Committee, with closed 
 doors. Most of the Committees during his reign, originated with him- 
 self, either directly or indirectly ; and the members that composed them 
 were either his “ thick and thin ” supporters, or among Bunyan’s 
 “ Pliables ; ” on any one becoming restive, or otherwise, he was presently 
 ousted, like Counsellor Majtthews, and S. D. Waddy. In each of the 
 Connexional Committees, he was certain generally to be one. It would 
 have been unhandsome to pass by their leader ; and to prevent himself 
 from being forgotten, he was certain to turn up at the time of nomina- 
 tion. On the erection of the Mission-House, in Bishopsgate Street, 
 
 YOL. II. U 
 
306 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 there was one General Committee, and several sub -committees ; and the 
 Rev. J. P. Haswell, who was on one of them, being stationed in London 
 at the time, stated to the writer that “ one Committee did not know 
 what another was doing,” while Bunting was familiar with the whole. 
 Mr. Squance, too, stationed also in London, stated that the preachers in 
 the metropolis, with the exception of Dr. Bunting and two or three of 
 his intimate friends, were as ignorant of Connexional matters as their 
 brethren in the provinces. Jabez was in the secret of all ; — was in 
 every Committee either in person, opinion, influence, or by proxy, 
 — pervading, by a kind of mysterious influence, the whole. These com- 
 mittees, all primed and loaded by him, previously to their meeting in 
 Conference, and constituting, at the same time, the principal actors in 
 that Conference, no single power could possibly withstand them, and 
 any marked man was sure to suffer under the withering influence of the 
 many, without any one being particularly to blame ; for Committees, 
 as Dr. Dixon observed, “are never lianged.” The prime mover was 
 behind the back of his fellows ; the blame, like Spoil, was divided 
 among the many, and he, the mover of mischief, rejoiced in the hope that 
 he would be lost in the crowd, and be the less blameless. 
 
 Such conduct was unbrotherly, and the more so, because of the open, 
 unoffending, benevolent, obliging conduct and demeanour of such a man 
 as Dr. Clarke. He was not a man, who confessed to having set his heart 
 upon appearing as the first man in the body, but was satisfled with 
 appearing on the floor of the house in common with his ministerial 
 brethren. He never threw himself in the way of office — never sought for 
 it — rather shunned, than suffered it to be imposed upon him ! Plis in- 
 dustry was without a parallel among his brethren ; and while it formed a 
 marked contrast to the indulgence and indolence of the few, it was in 
 admirable keeping with the steady, persevering, industrious habits of his 
 patron, friend, and model — John Wesley. Like Wesley, he would never 
 allow ‘‘ncA men to he necessary^'' to him, whether for the purpose of 
 answering his personal ends, or hanging upon their bounty. Knowing 
 that gold blindeth the eyes, he rejected all monied offers, which very 
 often acts the part of a bribe, and place a barrier in the way of remon- 
 strance, correction, and reproof, when most needed. Even in the case of 
 salary, he has been known to refuse either part or whole, when other 
 lawful and urgent duties have pressed upon him, and prevented him from 
 rendering his full tale of circuit- work, as a Methodist preacher. Work 
 and ivaye went hand in hand. Nor was he ever either indifferent to the 
 duties of the pulpit, or sought to shun tlifem, by imposing them upon 
 others, but has been known to offer his services to relieve another. He 
 was a day labourer^ not a loiterer^ in the vineyard of his Divine Master. 
 His life, as a Methodist Preacher, was a Practical Comment on John 
 Wesley’s ‘‘Twelve Buies of a Helper.” He never made Laws^ to which 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 307 
 
 lie did not render obedience himself. In this, his example was a model 
 for his ministerial brethren, one of whom is stated to have enacted laws for 
 others, by which they were annually tested, while he himself lived, in 
 fifteen different instances, in the constant and flagrant breach of them. 
 
 Methodism as It Is,” vol. ii., p. 227 — 633 ; and Liverpool Minutes.) 
 
APPENDIX.— III. 
 
 DISRUPTION OF 1849 IN THE METHODIST BODY. 
 
 For a period of several years, Dr. Clarke bad perceived the gathering 
 strength and fatal effects of Jabez Bunting’s crooked policy, which 
 tended, in his own expressive language, “ to hring the ivorld into the 
 Church appearing in “ornamented chapels, organs,” &c., &c. ; seri- 
 ously affecting the simplicity, spirituality, and efficiency of both preachers 
 and people. But he was a man of peace, — he had no ambition for rule, — 
 his time was fully and laudably employed with the useful rather than the 
 decorative ; — in preaching, writing, and other matters, of vital importance 
 calculated to set his fellow-men on the move for a blessed immortality. 
 Many of the evils too, he hoped, would, in due time, from the light and 
 piety in the body, when once /eZf, cure themselves, or speedily be cured 
 by others. Alas, they were too artfully contrived, too insidiously and 
 plausibly introduced, and bound up with too many personal interests, of 
 office, honour, ease, power, — not omitting occasional emolument, to be 
 removed without a struggle. They shaped themselves into the three 
 great evils of Centralization, Secularization, and Location, 
 which, while they gave rise to various other evils, placed a fearful 
 amount of power, either directly or indirectly, in the hands of their 
 originator, fatal to the interests of Methodism, and destructive of the 
 Rights of the People, — himself the John Wesley of his day, except 
 in his wisdom, his piety, his ingenuousness, disinterestedness, simplicity, 
 forbearance, self-denial, integrity, liberality, candour, unceasing toil, and 
 usefulness — anything, in short, except being the right man in the right 
 place. The preachers were converted into spies upon each other. Com- 
 plaints were everywhere heard of extravagance, display, incorrect 
 accounts, the exercise of arbitrary jiower, mismanagement, mal-appro- 
 priations, &c. The storm, at length, burst forth, in 1849, the melancholy 
 rehearsal of v/hich, is to be found in “ Methodism as it is, with some 
 of its antecedents, its branches and disruptions ; including a Diary of 
 the Campaign of 1849, protracted during a period of seven years ; with 
 a special reference to the Character, Power, Policy, and Administration of 
 the Master Mind of John Wesley’s Legislative Successor,” in 2 vols., 
 8vo. The motto — “The People will not submit to you as they have 
 submitted tome;” was John Wesley’s prophetic warning to the preachers. 
 
APi’iiNDlX. 
 
 309 - 
 
 Weil had it been for Methodism, if Jabez Bunting had never entered its 
 spvcred enclosure. It was not a little painful feeling, that extorted from 
 Dr. Clarke the expression which has given rise to this note, — “ I can 
 remain no longer in England, to see Methodism, as left by John Wesley, 
 destroyed ; ” an expression which would have had emphasis added to it, if 
 his stay on earth had been protracted a few years longer. 
 
 Two or three remarks may be made for the enlightenment of persons 
 not well versed in Wesleyan politics. When the people complained, they 
 were either repulsed, rebuked, or expelled; or, if more tenderly dealt 
 with, were told '''’that their grievances were altogether imaginary,'''' 
 (“Methodism as It Is,” vol. ii., p. 598.) One of these preachers was a 
 biographer of Adam Clarke, the Rev. John W. Etheridge, “Ph. D.” 
 He was asked by those who knew the difference between real and imagi- 
 nary evils better than himself, — as to the Rights of the People : 
 
 “1. Is it no grievance that the veto upon the admission of memhers is 
 taken away from the Leaders' Meeting,, or rendered valueless by their 
 regulations — so that you may be associated with the most exceptionable 
 character, at the will of the preacher ? ■ 
 
 “ 2. Is it no grievance,, that you can be cut off from Christian com- 
 munion by the same arbitrary will, and that, in defiance of a Leaders' 
 Meeting in your favour, the only appeal being to a meeting of five 
 preachers? Nay, you can be quietly dropped by the preacher,, without a 
 charge,, and without the intervention of any church meeting whatever, as 
 hundreds have been since the September — [1849] — visitation of the 
 classes ? 
 
 “3. Is it an imaginary grievance,, that, when a resolution is proposed 
 to any meeting of the Church, if unpalatahle to the preacher, he can leave 
 the chair, by which the meeting is held to be dissolved, and any act that 
 may be done afterwards is deemed invalid ? 
 
 “4. Is it an imaginary grievance, that the law is just what the super- 
 intendent for the time being declares it to be^ so that one practice prevails 
 in one circuit which is. to be held invalid in another? 
 
 “5. Is it no grievance,, that a body of preachers take upon themselves 
 to legislate for the whole community, without the members of the Church 
 having the slightest voice in the matter ? 
 
 “ 6. Is it no grievance, that t\iQ people are precluded from approaching 
 the Conference for redress of grievances, at any time, except three days in 
 June, and even that concession is clogged with so many restrictions as to 
 render it valueless ? 
 
 “7. Is it an imaginary grievance, that all offices in the Church are 
 filled up with the nominees of the preachers, thereby excluding many who, 
 from their piety and talents, are calculated to be eminently useful, if they 
 do not appear to be what is technically called ‘ a preacher’s man ? ’ ” 
 
310 
 
 ADAM CLADKE. 
 
 These are but a small moiety of the evils complained of ; but they are 
 sufficient to show the character of others, and that men, capable of per- 
 petrating them, would not be found very nice in other matters. The 
 secrecy maintained by Dr. Bunting, and those denominated the Clique, 
 excited suspicion ; suspicion led to inquiry ; inquiry to exposure. Tho 
 policy of the Master Mind ” of Methodism, so called, was examined, 
 and found anything but agreeable, except to the few, in its working, 
 and its effects. Missionary affairs were scrutinised so far as the 
 four Secretaries and two Treasurers, would allow them to be known, 
 and found sadly incorrect, by Mr. Craig, of Dublin, and a gentleman at 
 Leek, in Staffordshire, and many other accountants ; and this, too, after 
 being annually and systematically cooked,” to use a modern coinage, in 
 order to meet with acceptance.^' Mr. Gabriel, a highly respectable 
 gentleman, and a member of the Missionary Committee, was denied an 
 inspection of the books, in a matter in which every member of the Com- 
 mittee was interested. t Everything proceeding from this Secret Clique 
 of Six Infallibles, ensconced in this small enclosure, at Centenary Hall, 
 inaccessible to all others, with One Hundred Thousand Pounds, more or 
 less, passing annually through their hands, was to be taken for granted as 
 infallibly correct. The evils in all the departments of Methodism, were 
 so numerous, and being traceable to one source, it was deemed high time 
 to attempt^ at least, a cure. 
 
 The work commenced by a series of small tracts, entitled, “Fly- 
 Sheets ; ” anonymous, and as no small proof, that the parties were 
 genuine lovers of Methodism and of peace, and had no selfish ends to 
 answer, they were printed at their own expense, post paid, and to prevent 
 the several Societies from being disturbed on the subject, their circulation 
 was confined to the Preachers, with whom the evils originated, and 
 who were naturally considered the most competent persons to apply the 
 
 * The following is an illustration. Mr. Josiah Hill noticed some of the expenses 
 in the Missionary Reports, respecting the Secretaries, to Mr. B., of London, a member 
 of the Missionary Committee. The friend replied, “ I do not think it would be prudent 
 to enter every item in the Missionary Report, — say, so much to the Secretaries to go to^ 
 a watering place in summer for a little recreation. Poor people who know nothing of 
 the expenses attending such places, would startle at the sum, and it might damage the 
 funds; but what I object to, is, — the alteration of figures. I saw an entry of £10 in one 
 book; some time afterwards I saw the same item altered into £200. What became of 
 the £190 ? It is to this, and such things, Mr. Hill, that I object.” Mr. Hill named this to 
 a warm supporter of the policy of Dr. Bunting, who refused to admit it. “Well,”^ 
 replied Mr. Hill, “ I am so satisfied with the authority, that I will undertake to go to 
 the Mission House, go to the room where the book is to be found, and lay my hand 
 upon the page where the entry is said to stand, and if I do not find it there, according 
 to the statement of my informant, I will forfeit £200 to the Missionary Fund.” This 
 was communicated to the Missionary Secretaries by Mr. F., of Hull ; but they permitted 
 judgment to go by default, by declining to reply. Books thus settled, and placed in the 
 hands of auditors, without vouchers^ will rarely fail to be returned— “ Signed, and found 
 correct.” 
 
 t “Methodism as It Is,” vol. ii., p. 287, 318, 322, 323. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 311 
 
 remedy, as well as the most proper to commence the work. Instead of 
 improving the occasion, by appointing a committee to inquire into the 
 truth of the allegations, which conscious innocence and the general good 
 would have suggested, the parties implicated acted the part of persons 
 who felt that their misdemeanours were detected, and likely to be exposed, 
 and who hoped, not only to prevent further notice by intimidation, but 
 that the blow, aimed at themselves, would be diverted in its course by a 
 sudden rebound. Alas, after the lapse of many years, the authors re- 
 main undiscovered, and the infatuated inquisitionists are » still at school, 
 learning the simple lesson — that the discovery of an author^ cannot dis- 
 prove a fact. Not only have the evils complained of in the “Fly-Sheets,” 
 been proved, but vindicated ; and that vindication has been confirmed 
 without a single refutation. Denials have appeared, as they would be 
 found among criminals at the bar in a court of justice; but such denials 
 would be received by neither judge nor jury without evidence. 
 
 While Dr. Bunting and his co-partners, were trying to screen them- 
 selves, and to drown the voice of the complainants, by calling for the 
 authors, the whole Conference should have demanded from him a dis- 
 proval of the allegations ; the latter being the first business, as evidence 
 had been adduced, and was also of the first moment ; these being 
 disproved, then search for the maligners, and punish accordingly. Inno- 
 cence would at once go to the charge — meet, and rebut it ; guilt will go to 
 anything, and anywhere, to prevent examination and elude detection. 
 
 Jabez Banting, who was himself shy of being tested, was an adept at 
 testing others. There were three general tests during his reign, after he 
 formally became the “President’s Adviser; ” namely, on occasion of 
 the establishment of the “Theological Institution” — the publication of 
 the “ Wesleyan Takings” — and the issue of the “Fly-Sheets.” He was 
 personally interested in each. In the first, his object was to establish a 
 pet scheme of his own ; in the second, he gave currency to a flattering 
 likeness of himself, modestly mixed up with a little “ voluntary humility 
 and in the third, he vainly strove to relieve himself of a large amount of 
 odium thrown upon his administration. After these, a fourth appeared 
 at his instigation, under the Presidency of Thomas Jackson, in his 
 Manifesto, so called, from Richmond, — a man distinguished as the humble 
 servant of his “Adviser.” The tone assumed by the last of these 
 ^^Declarations" — a full account of which, together with the others, is to 
 be found in “ Methodism as it is,” was equalled only by that from the 
 Vatican. The preachers were required to affix their names to those 
 Declarations, and so to sign themselves slaves, or take the consequence. 
 In 1849, they were required to declare that the “ Fly-Sheets ” were full 
 of “ lies and wicked slanders.” This placed conscientious men in an awk- 
 ward position, who were aware of the truth of most, if not the whole of the 
 allegations, — in many cases from personal knowledge, and in others, from 
 
312 
 
 ADAM CLADKE. 
 
 the evidence adduced. From thirty to forty of those who refused to 
 sign, were selected for the test, and seven of them had the question put to 
 them — “Are you the author of the ^Fly-Sheets? ’ ” but severally refused 
 to turn the Methodist Conference into a Romish Inquisition, by giving a 
 categorical answer — “Yes,” or “No.” Three of these were expelled, 
 viz., Messrs. J. Everett, Samuel Dunn, and Wm. Griffith, Junior, — two 
 were degraded, Daniel Walton, and J. C. George, — and two censured, 
 J. Burdsal], and James Bromley. The first three were summoned to 
 appear at the bar of Conference, on the motion of Mr. W. M, Bunting, 
 without knowing the reason why, and contrary to rule, which required a 
 written notice, with a specific charge. This was dispensed with, — and so 
 also were charge, accuser, witness, evidence at the bar ; no one appearing — 
 for a good reason, none could be obtained ; and as there were neither men 
 nor materials for the work, the clique, in frenzied mood, proposed that 
 the parties summoned should do it themselves. For not doing this, they 
 were expelled from the body — turned upon the world — deprived of house 
 and salary, and severed from a twenty, thirty, forty years’ fellowship of 
 endeared Christian friendship. While Conference had the disgrace, they 
 had the glory, and shared in the good opinion of the public, with . that 
 of a large portion of the Wesleyan laity. Such testing was as little to 
 English taste as Lynch Law to the lovers of liberty. What says the 
 celebrated Dr. Arnold? “ He who bribes or frightens his neighbours into 
 doing an act which no good man would do for reward ; or from fear, is 
 tempting his neighbour to sin ; he is assisting to harden or lower his con- 
 science ; to make him act for the fear or from the favour of man, instead 
 of for the favour or from the fear of God ; and if this be a sin in him, 
 it is a double sin to tempt him to it.” 
 
 Jabez Bunting entered the '•'‘field of strife f in early life, — so early as 
 the period of his ministerial probation, in a joint pamphlet with Mr. 
 James Wood, then travelling in Manchester, about 1800. 
 
 We find him afterwards at Manchester, if not in person, encouraging 
 John Stephens, the Superintendent of that circuit, with his countenance, 
 counsel, and influence, disturbing the minds of the people with high- 
 sounding toryism, and costing the Society the loss of about 500 members. 
 For this feat Mr. Stephens was afterwards recommended to the Presi- 
 dental Chair by his co-worker, who assigned the same as a reason why he 
 should be placed there, as he subsequently did, in the elevation of 
 Edmond Grindwood, for doing his bidding at Leeds, in the Organ case — 
 1828, when Jabez formally assumed the title and office of the Pre- 
 sident’s Adviser! While the loss at Manchester, in 1819, cost 500, 
 that at Leeds amounted to 1,000. The establishment of the Theological 
 Institution in 1834-1835 was still more disastrous in a numerical sense — 
 being calculated at not less than 25,000. The Institution was a noble 
 object, was much needed, and calculated to do much good, under God ; 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 313 
 
 but it was sadly marred by the perversity, selfishness, exclusiveness, par- 
 tialities, and mis-management of its proposer, which gave rise to hostile 
 views and feelings, and brought out the entire case in the “Disputants.” 
 
 After this came the famous ever-to-be-remembered Year of Misrule, 
 crowned with “ Question under Penalty,” for which, the Connexion 
 had to sustain the loss of 100,000 members, besides a further loss of 
 hearers, — the whole chargeable on the spirit and policy of Jabez Bunting 
 and his Helpers. 
 
 Ho sooner was the outrageous conduct of the Conference of 1849 
 brought before the public, than a storm burst forth ; ‘‘ Jabez Bunting ” 
 and “Methodism” — “Everett, Dunn, Griffith,” — were names 
 posted in every town, occupied a place in every newspaper, and engrossed 
 the conversation of persons of every age, every creed, and every grade in 
 society, — with expressions of execration on the one hand, and sympathy 
 on the other. The expulsion took place in August^ and before September 
 had closed, nearly the whole of the Public Journals of the three king- 
 doms had Leading Articles condemnatory of the Act, from the 
 “Thunderer,” so called, the “Daily Times,” down to the smallest paper 
 in the Provinces. A list of these papers was published, with the title 
 and place of publication. In the list against the Conference were found 
 15 Metropolitan Weekly Journals, — 67 Provincial, — 13 of the larger 
 Monthly and Quarterly Periodicals, exclusive of others that followed the 
 short period specified. 
 
 The harmony of the Public Press on the occasion, is not to be passed 
 over without remark, — having,, in such an extraordinary manner, as by 
 compact, aflSxed its deep, broad, black seal of reprobation on the per- 
 petrators of these despotic acts ; perpetrated in the House of God, under 
 the guise of religion, and pronounced a ^’‘righteous judgment^ Th^ con- 
 ductors and proprietors of these papers, as a class, were men of high 
 character and respectability — men of talent, judgment, and experience — 
 and had been before the public for years — differed from each other on 
 many other subjects—on slavery, education, the corn-laws, free-trade, 
 the navigation laws, religion — in short, almost every other subject, 
 v/hether of science, philosophy, wit, peace, war, history, &c. ; but here 
 were One — one in view, feeling, and expression ; their united thunder 
 rolling over the land, their lightning hashing in every eye ; and the bolts 
 falling around in every direction, where tyranny dared to show its front. 
 
 The expelled, though smitten, were not deserted ; Christian Ministers 
 — such men as Dr. Cox, Dr. J. Campbell, Dr. A. Fletcher, Dr. Bedford, 
 Dr. Burns, and a host of others, both in the metropolis, and in the 
 provinces — threw open their pulpits and places of worship for them, in 
 which to exercise their ministry — Congregationalists, Independents, 
 Baptists, Methodist New Connexionists, Primitive Methodists, Methodist 
 Associationists, — Ministers and Beligious Communities perfectly disin- 
 
314 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 terested, and apable of coolly and dispassionately viewing the whole 
 subject, pronounced in favour of the expelled divines, — giving them 
 the right hand of fellowship ; crowding upon them with invitations to 
 officiate in their several places of worship, and furnishing them with 
 ministerial labour for months to come. 
 
 In addition to Press-work, outside of Methodism, at the commence- 
 ment of the Disruption, several of the newspapers kept up a running fire 
 upon the Conference, with leading articles, and letters from correspon- 
 dents. Extracts from the Leaders were published in the “ Wesleyan 
 Times,” weekly ; to which may be added, other periodicals — ‘‘ The 
 Wesley Banner” — the “Wesleyan Reformer” — and the “Wesleyan 
 Review.” Nor was this all; as many as 118 different Controversial 
 Tracts issued from the press, on the stirring subject of Conference 
 despotism, ranging from 4 to 6, 12, 24, 30, 40, 50, 70, 80, 100, and 279 
 pages, 18mo., 12mo., 8vo., 4to., and royal 8vo. ; scattered broad-cast 
 throughout the Connexion and the country. 
 
 The three brethren, now without the Wesleyan pale, were importunately 
 pressed with applications from every part of the kingdom to visit the 
 different Societies, and state their case, and so correct and counteract the 
 false impressions in many quarters, made by the mis-statements of the 
 Conference. The ‘‘ Daily Times ” professed to ground its judgment of 
 condemnation on the Official Report given to the public by the President. 
 And this itself was deemed sufficient with other portions of the Press* 
 There is no gainsaying — ‘‘ Out of thine own mouth will I judge thee.” 
 
 “ Messrs. Everett, Dunn, and Griffith,” it was stated (Sept. 3rd) in 
 the “ Daily Times,” and other metropolitan papers, “ appeared at 
 Exeter Hall, on the evening of Friday, Aug. 31 (1849), when they laid 
 their case before the public. On that occasion, we had an opportunity of 
 seeing them. Mr. Everett is between 60 and 70 years of age ; Mr. Dunn 
 about 50 ; and Mr. Griffith perhaps a few years more than 40. They 
 have been Wesleyan ministers for the periods of 43, 30, and 20 years 
 respectively. 
 
 “It is very rarely we are called to remark on the ecclesiastical pro- 
 ceedings of the numerous dissenting communities which divide with the 
 Church the vagrant affections of this isle. Their foundation and govern- 
 ment is on the voluntary principle. Volenti non fit injuria, and it would 
 be a very idle piece of knight-errantry to protect an injured Wesleyan 
 or Independent who has of course in his own hands the most effectual 
 remedy. If we are led to depart from the rule of non-interference, it is 
 because we find a very large and respectable body of Englishmen com- 
 mitting an apparent violation of English usage and principle. Speaking 
 only from our first impressions, after a perusal of the statements pub- 
 lished by the aggrieved parties on the one hand, and the Wesleyan 
 Conference on the other, we must say that the latter has just taken a step 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 315 ^ 
 
 which smacks more of the Inquisition than that of a British tribunal. 
 So far, of course, the character of England is concerned, and, as guar- 
 dians of that character, we are justified in expressing, at least, our sur- 
 prise, and asking for further information.” Touching on “ Question 
 Under Penalty,” it is further remarked, “ Whether such a course be 
 right or wrong, it is at best perfectly unique in this country. No other 
 British tribunal possesses or claims the authority to put a ‘ brotherly 
 question ’ to a suspected person, and require ‘ a frank and brotherly 
 answer.’ The rule of all our courts, both ecclesiastical and civil, is^ 
 charity, which ‘ hopeth all things,’ and which assumes everybody to be 
 innocent till he is proved guilty. These gentlemen are punished on 
 mere suspicion, and for refusing to criminate themselves. We never 
 heard the like in this country, at least in modern and peaceable times. 
 Talk of the Star Chamber ! A man might hold his tongue before that 
 court, stand his trial, and escape if the evidence did not support tha 
 charge. Of the parties themselves, of the Fly-sheets, or the usual prac- 
 tice of the Conference, we know next to nothing. We take these pro- 
 ceedings on the statement of the Conference ; and we pronounce them^ 
 at once an outrage on our old English principle of fair play.” Then 
 follows : — 
 
 “Never was a more magnificent spectacle witnessed within the walls- 
 of Exeter Hall than was then presented. That immense room was- 
 crowded with intelligent, enthusiastic, and religious men, W e merely 
 refer to the circumstance as a peculiar feature of the meeting, and as- 
 showing how deep and intense is the interest excited by the recent pro- 
 ceedings of the Conference. That body may have tried to persuade itself 
 and others that the people were indifferent, as well as distant, spectators 
 of its doings, and had no sympathy with the men who have been un- 
 righteously excommunicated, because suspected of the authorship of 
 works that will yet have to be answered, and for refusing to be parties for 
 transforming the Wesleyan legislature into an inquisition. If they think 
 so still, after the confessedly unexpected demonstration on Friday, we 
 shall confess them sunk in a hopeless hallucination. That meeting says, 
 in unmistakable terms, ‘ set your houses in order.’ ” 
 
 In another London paper, whose writers were present, it is observed, 
 “ London is not easily moved. But London has moved, is moving, and, 
 like all large bodies, when put in motion, it will not soon or be easily 
 controlled. The state of the metropolis was indicated on Friday. We- 
 should as soon have expected the presence of Dr. Bunting himself, as that 
 of some who were there. They have never been known to hint a thought 
 in opposition to Conference ; but, as one said, ‘ a thirty years’ blindness ’ 
 had given place to light. Such men would, a year ago, have thought it 
 equivalent to sacrilege to attend any such meeting as that we have re- 
 ported, but they do not now. They feel that Methodism has been 
 
31’6 
 
 ADAM CLAEKE. 
 
 outraged by its executive, that other principles than justice and mercy 
 have dictated Conference acts ; that the dread of ioquiry implies ‘ con- 
 scious guilt ; ’ that if the ‘ Fly-Sheets ’ had contained nothing but false- 
 hoods, they might easily have been disproved, and then had the authors 
 sought out and punished, if found. They begin to have shrewd sus- 
 picions that there has been much misplaced confidence.” 
 
 A third remarks, “ There were no artificial means adopted ; no 
 packing or pufling; no collusion. The men were unknown in London. 
 Neither Mr. Everett nor Mr. Dunn had ever been on a London platform. 
 This circumstance elicited loud cries of ‘ shame ’ at the meeting, and has 
 given rise to considerable disapprobation since. The why and ivherefore^ 
 wo dare say, could be satisfactorily explained by Dr. Bunting ! The 
 despotism of the Conference produced the meeting, and the meeting 
 has produced a deeply-seated conviction of the absolute necessity of a 
 thorough reform, if Methodism is to see and bless the next generation. 
 Parties came expressly from distant parts of the country to attend the 
 meeting. The presence of so many clergymen, and other ministers 
 belonging to various denominations, proves that the struggle just begun 
 is watched and sympathized in with the liveliest feelings.” 
 
 A melancholy tale has to be appended to what has been stated. 
 Jabez Bunting had wounded the spirit of others than that of Adam 
 Clarke ; his policy and bearing had lacerated the feelings of not a 
 few of his ministerial brethren, — simple-minded, devout, earnest, useful 
 men, — had sought and secured the ecclesiastical death of three others, in 
 1849 ; and had otherwise seriously affected the free, healthy, successful 
 working of the system left by John Wesley among “the people 
 called Methodists.” He had been charged with misrule in certain papers 
 called “ Fly-Sheets,” supported by the strongest evidence ; — the charges 
 remained unrefuted ; — he sought to shield liimself by taking vengeance 
 on the exposer ; — suspected and punished without proof of guilt ; — the 
 People sympathized with the three sufferers ; — he threatened vengeance 
 on them — ^took it, — and Methodism sustained the loss. James Wild, Esq. ; 
 one of Dr. A. Clarke’s executors, just dead (1866), stated to the writer 
 and others, that Dr. Bunting said, in a committee in which he was 
 present, on the agitation being noticed, “ I am ready, at the risk of the 
 loss of any number of members to maintain the fundamental principles 
 of our Constitution ; ” not, observe, the principles of the New Testament 
 and Jesus Christ, but the Minutes of Conference and John Wesley ; 
 — the one Human, and the other Divine ; — a man-made “ Consti- 
 tution,” and immortal souls purchased by the blood of Jesus Christ ; 
 the one framed for good and with the best intentions, and the other 
 collected at immense cost, in men and means, and exposed to the 
 possibility of being lost for ever. On another occasion, the heartless 
 and godless expression, a little varied, was repeated with greater 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 3^7 
 
 emphasis : — “ Every member that sympathizes with them,” that is, the 
 three outcasts, “shall be expelled.” President Thomas Jackson, the‘ 
 “saintly President,” added his weight to it, about the same time, when 
 on an official visit to Norfolk, which was regarded as one of the strongest 
 holds of the insurrection, where he announced a general razzia. “ Expul» 
 sion,” he said, “ must be carried on throughout the land — to the extent, 
 if necessary, of every member; and then,” he added, “we shall have the 
 chapels, and we can begin again.” Every person^ he is reported to have 
 said, “ taking part in agitative meetings, shall be expelled — every delegate^ 
 without exception, cut off.” On a shrinking brother saying such 
 measures would ruin his circuit, the inexorable President replied, 
 “ You must do your duty, Sir ; every agitator must be expelled.” 
 
 Mark ! They were persons, not opposed to John Wesley’s Metho- 
 dism, but who believed all the essential doctrines he taught, expe- 
 rienced the saving truths he inculcated, walked by his rules, and 
 exhibited the morality of Jesus Christ. Their only faults were, first, 
 that they disapproved of the injustice and cruelty of the men who 
 threatened them with excommunication. Secondly, that they manifested 
 Sympathy — that relic of goodness in fallen humanity — towards their 
 expelled brethren, and thus soothed these sufferers under their labours 
 and sorrows. Did the “ Good Shepherd,” who “ left the ninety and 
 nine ” to go into the wilderness, in order to seek the “ one ” that was 
 lost, set no higher value on his flock ? Would John Wesley have 
 thrown them away, like worthless weeds ? Would Adam Clarke — nay, 
 did he ever, manifest such recklessness or heartless indifference for the 
 present and eternal welfare of his fellow-creatures ? Hundreds of ex- 
 emplary Christians, of both sexes, the young and the hoary-headed, in the 
 same circuits, were severed from old friends and associations — from places 
 where their forefathers had worshipped and which they had built — 
 where they themselves had been baptized, and in whose grave-yards the 
 ashes of their dead reposed. 
 
 In the Minutes of Conference is reported. 
 
 In 1851, Great Britain, a decrease of 56,068, — Ireland, 292 
 
 1852, 
 
 Ditto, 
 
 ditto 
 
 20,946, 
 
 Ditto 
 
 775 
 
 1853, 
 
 Ditto, 
 
 ditto 
 
 10,298, 
 
 Ditto 
 
 432 
 
 1854, 
 
 Ditto, 
 
 ditto 
 
 6,797, 
 
 Ditto 
 
 375 
 
 Here, within the space of about five years, we have — say, the loss of 
 little, if any less, than 100,000 members, and we may calculate on twice 
 the number of hearers. Now, in the year 1866 the Old Body, after 
 seventeen years of ministerial and educational toil, with an annual 
 EXPENDITURE of some Hundreds of Thousands of Pounds, at Home 
 and Abroad, is short, by many thousands of Members, in numerical 
 strength, of what it had, when the work of Expulsion commenced ; and 
 
SIS 
 
 ADAM CLARKE. 
 
 many years, to all human appearance, will pass away before it regains 
 its ancient strength and efficiency. The Wesley ans can look with 
 greater pleasure at the days and labour of such men as the Hoppers, 
 Mathers, Bensons, and Clarkes, than to the days of the Buntings, 
 the Jacksons, and the Osborns. Why, the Offshoots from the Old 
 Body, embracing the New Methodist Connexion, Primitives, and others, 
 number in members, upwards of 400,000.^' Methodism has been the 
 means, under' God, of saving multitudes of souls; and in the hands of 
 such men as its Apostolic Founder, Adam Clarke, and others, like minded, 
 it may yet become a Power in the world and an ornament to the Christian 
 Churches around. 
 
 N.B. — “Methodism as It Is,” vols., 8vo., contains a History of 
 the entire movement. 
 
 An excellent paper on the “Growth of Methodism” appeared in tlie Wesleyan 
 Times of June 4th., 1866, signed “Ethelbert,” who, in his opening paragraph, ob- 
 serves to the Editor, “In my last letter I called attention to the numerical growth 
 of Methodism in Great Britain during the present century. In that letter I showed 
 most conclusively, that the numerical yearly growth during the year from 1801 to 1834 
 had averaged 5,400, while during the years from 1835 to 1865 the average yearly increase 
 had only been about 1,254. Bad as that picture was when looked at, in any aspect, it 
 will appear still worse when contrasted, as I propose now to do, with the numerical 
 growth of Methodism in America.” He adds, “ The total membership of Great Britain 
 and Ireland at the opening of this century was 113,762, while the total membership in 
 the United States was only 64,894, a little above half that in the mother country. In 
 1864, see the contrast : in Great Britain we have 329,668 ; in the United States they 
 have 928,320, being nearly three times as many as the total of the parent society. The 
 inquiry rises spontaneously, 'Whence this difference ? In what has America the 
 advantage ? In what does she differ from us now ? It is true she had to suffer im- 
 mensely in 1844 by the disruption on the slavery question, by which her total in the 
 Northern States, was reduced from one million one hundred thousand members, to 
 only six hundred and forty thousand members ; yet she began to flourish again with 
 unabated vigour, and continued the same rapid increase till the late suicidal war 
 reduced the total considerably. The decrease for the year ending in 1864 is attributable 
 to the war, and all churches in the country have shared in it. But an American writer 
 says, ‘ We are rapidly repairing the latter losses. Thus far the centenary year has been 
 signalled by revivals and additions. It is estimated that, at our recent rate of increase, 
 we shall gather in this year about 300,000 souls.’ ” The writer in the Wesleyan 
 Times proceeds, “ In the United States all notion of building up a great ecclesiastical 
 system has been lost sight of. The thing has grown in spite of all opposition; but 
 there has been no influence there similar in its character or effects to that exerted so 
 prejudicially by Dr. Bunting on English Methodism. We are not disposed to dwell 
 more in detail on the darker phase of Methodist influence ; it is very fully exemplified 
 in a work now in course of publication, entitled, ‘Methodism as It Is.’ American 
 Methodism has not been influenced by such movements as the Kilhamite separation, 
 or the Bourne and Clowes excision, or the O’Bryan excision, or the Leeds Organ 
 dispute, or the Theological Institute and Dr. W^arren dispute, or the outrageous 
 assumption of Conference authority in 1819 — 1850, all which have helped to paralyse 
 Methodism at home, and the effect of the Conference on the home societies has been 
 to reduce the annual increase of members from 5,400, as it was from 1801 to 1834, to 
 1.254, all it reached during the last past thirty years. Not so has been the growth of 
 Methodism ia the United States. The Bunting policy of the Methodist Conference 
 was one of the greatest fatalities ever connected with Christendom; and till that 
 policy is reversed Conference Methodism in Great Britain will decline till it dies out.” 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Abbeys, vol. ii. p. 227 
 Abbey Street Chapel, ii. 156 
 Abbott C., ii. 31, 65 
 Abbotsford, ii. 190 
 Aberdeen, ii. 211 
 Abernethy, Dr. J., ii. 61 
 Abn- Joseph, ii. 214 
 Abraham’s Sacrifice, ii. 55 
 Abstinence, i. 237 
 Abyssinians, ii. 214 
 Academy, Rayal Irish, i. 326 ; ii. 158 
 Acceptability, i. 89, 100 
 Accident, Coach, ii. 271, 277 
 Accident, Serious, ii. 217 
 Accommodation, Domestic, i. 91, 92, 
 205 
 
 Acrostic, An, i. 277 
 Acts xiv. 22 : ii. 283 
 Acts xvi. 30 : ii. 91 
 Acts, Map of, ii. 155 
 Adages, Old, i. 7 
 Adamson, W., i. 91 
 Addington, Dr. S., ii. 70 
 Advice, Good, i. 313 
 Advice, Wholesome, i. 187, 339, 362 
 .Eneas’s Address, i. 67 
 Alneid, i. 77 
 .^sop’s Fables, i. 37 
 Affairs, State of Public, ii. 270, 274 
 Affection, Paternal, ii. 9 
 Afflicted, The, i. 298, 302, 317 
 Afflicted, Attention to, ii. 68, 80 
 Affliction, i. 161-164, 173, 182, 183, 
 £72, 273, 302 ; ii. 276, 277 
 Agamemnon, ii. 246 
 Age, Old, i. 136, 144, 146 ; ii. 247 
 Agherton, i. 16, 54 
 Agitation, Religious, i. 209 
 Agriculture, ii. 148 
 Agrippa, Cornelius, i. 37, 38, 44 
 Akbery Ageen, i. 236—239 
 Albums, ii. 179 
 Alchemy, i. 39, 101, 195 
 Alderney, i. 114, 120, 123 
 Ale, ii. 68 
 Ale, Prime, ii. 63 
 Alexander’s Hebrew Bible, ii. 186 
 Alfred the Great, ii. 172, 198 
 
 Algar, J., i. 74, 76—79 
 Allen, J., i. 286 ; ii. 14 
 Allison on Taste, i. 18 
 Alliteration, i. 341 
 Alnwick, ii. 17 
 Alstone, i. 285 
 Altrincham, i. 215 
 Alwine, Mac, ii. 252, 276 
 Amens, i. 277 
 
 American War, Wesley on the, ii. 
 Amore, Mr., i, 125 
 Amusements, Juvenile, i. 45, 46 
 Anarchy, ii. 67 
 Andrews, Petit, i. 323 
 Anglesea, Isle of, i. 156 
 Angling, i. 22, 23, 26, 27 
 Anglo-Saxon Language, ii. 172 
 Annesley, Dr., ii. 147, 164, 215 
 Annesley, Miss Eliz,, ii. 164 
 Annesley, Miss S., ii. 164 
 Anonymous Attack, i. 333 
 Anstey, Richard, i. 355 
 Antinomian, An, i. 93, 98 
 Antinomianism, i. 68, 287, 288 
 Antiquarian Society, i. 271, 326 
 Antiquities, ii. 261 
 Antiquities, Irish, ii. 189, 215, 238 
 Antoninus, ii. 121 
 
 Antrim, ii. 42, 156, 179, 242, 246, 249, 
 251, 276 
 Anxiety, i. 19 
 Ape, ii. 11, 28 
 Apocalypse, ii. 25 
 Apocryphal Question, ii. 204 
 Apprenticeship, i. 61, 62 
 Arabian Nights’ Entertainment, i. 37, 
 41 
 
 Arabic Books, ii. 187 
 Arabic Language, ii. 33, 123, 193, 197 
 Arabic Verb, ii. 187 
 Arabic Version of Bible, i. 314, 
 ii. 186 
 
 Aratus, .ii. 71 
 Armagh, i. 358 ; ii. 39, 40 
 Arminians, i. 347 
 
 Arminian Magazine, i. 132, 138, 140 
 Arnold, Dr., ii. 56, 121 
 Arrive, Mr., i. 124 
 
320 
 
 IJsTDEX. 
 
 Arthur, Mrs., i. 298; ii. 198 
 Arthur’s Seat, ii. 174 
 Article, Greek, ii. 85, 179 
 Asiatic Customs, ii. 150 
 Asiatic Researches, i. 238 
 Asiatic Society, Royal, i. 326 ; ii. 171 
 Ass, The, ii. 98 
 Assembly, General, ii. 176 
 Astrology, &c., Works on, i. 38, 39, 
 227 
 
 Athenian Oracle, i. 256 
 Athenodorus, i. 187 
 Atherton, W., ii. 161 
 Atmore, Charles, i. 257 ; ii. 212 
 Atonement of ("hrist, ii. 114 
 Aubin, St., i. 109, 119, 126, 128, 132 
 Auction Book, i. 179 
 Augustine, i. 365 
 Augustine, St., ii. 112, 183 
 Ault, Mr., ii. 128 
 Austle, St., i. 97, 99, 108 
 Authors, Ancient Christian, i. 328 
 Averell, A., ii. 116 
 
 Bacon, Lord, i. 152, 211 
 Baddily, Rev., i. 137 
 Baghvat Geeta, i. 236, 238 
 Bagster, ii. 33 
 *Bailey, Judge, ii. 14 
 Bailey, Dr., i. 72 
 
 Baillies on the Arabic Verb, ii. 187 
 
 Baines, W., ii. 27 
 
 Balcarres. Lord, ii. 231 
 
 Ballads, i. 28, 34 
 
 Bally ah erton, i. 16 ; ii. 41 
 
 Ballymena, i. 65 ; ii. 42 
 
 Balta Sound, ii. 230 
 
 Banoinell, Mr., ii. 65, 66 
 
 Bandon, ii. 177, 178 
 
 Bandon. Lord, ii. 179 
 
 Ban try, ii. 178 
 
 Baptism, ii. 197, 244, 274 
 
 Baptism, Adam’s, i. 6 
 
 Baptism of Buddha Priests, ii. 130 
 
 Barber, Thomas, i. 53, 54, 57 
 
 Barclay’s Argensis, i. 227 
 
 Baron’s War, i. 355 
 
 Barrett, Dr. J., i. 177, 311, 312 ; ii. 38, 
 39 
 
 Bates, ii. 215 
 
 Bath, i. 85, 86, 88, 150, 152, 153 
 Bath, Bishop of, ii. 283 
 Bath, Marquis of, ii. 283 
 Bathurst, Lord, ii. 131 
 Bathing, i. 23, 26 
 Baxter, R., i. 370 
 Baynes, W., i. 230 ; ii. 271 
 Bayswatcr, ii. 237, 283, 284 
 Bean, Rev. J., ii. 10 
 
 Beast,” Number of, ii. 3 
 Beasts, Restoration of, i. 255 
 Bealie, Mr., i. 367 
 
 Beaumont, Dr. J. E., ii. 174, 205, 274 
 Bede, The Venerable, ii. 73 
 Bedford, T., i. 312 
 Bee, The, i. 339 
 Beet, J., ii. 182 
 Beggar, Kang and, ii. 182 
 Begging in Chapels, ii. 53, 54 
 Belfast, ii. 156, 158, 177, 246, 249, 251. 
 
 262, 276 
 Bell, i. 312 
 Bellingham, J., ii. 62 
 Belvidere, Earl and Countess of, ii. 157 
 Belzoni’s Narrative, ii. 153 — 155 
 Bench, King s, i. 355 
 Benediction, Asiatic, ii. 256 
 Benevolence, Instance of, i. 94, 137 
 138 
 
 Benevolence, Public, &c., ii. 82, 84, 
 103 
 
 Bennett, F., i. 61, 62 
 Benson, Joseph, i. 167, 200, 201, 212 
 —214, 220, 225, 316, 344; ii. 45, 
 61, 111, 152, 153, 184, 257 
 Bentle^q D. J., i. 311, 326, 342 
 Bentley, Professor, ii. 211 
 Bergen, ii. 230 
 Bernard, i. 331 
 
 Bernard's Isle of Man,” ii. 63 
 Besetting Sin Conquered, i. 137 
 Betting, i. 20 
 
 Beza’s New Testament, i. 138 
 Bible, The, i. 179, 195, 225, 319 
 Bible, Dr. Clarke’s Pocket, i. 79, 80 
 Bible in Rhyme, i. 78 
 Bible, Old Manuscript, ii. 27 
 Bible, Perusal of, i. 58 
 Bible, Pocket, Use of, i. 63, 70 
 Bible, Reading the, i. 339, 340 ; ii. 168 
 Bible Society, British and Foreign, i. 
 308, 309, 320, 324, 343, 369 ; ii. 35„ 
 56, 90, 165, 204, 255 
 Bible, Translations of, i. 225 
 Bibles, Collections of, ii. 168 
 Bibliographers, List of, i. 274 
 Bibliographical Dictionary, i. 274; 275, 
 283, 301 ; ii. 117, 287 
 Bibliotheca Sussexiana, ii. 238 
 Bibliotheque Oriental, i. 246 
 Bigland, Mr., ii. 155 
 Biography, Remarks on. Preface, i. v. 
 — xii., 1, 2 
 
 Biography, Tact for, ii. 184 
 Biographical Miscellany, i. 318 
 Biot, French Philosopher, ii. 280 
 Birch, Miss, ii. 252 
 Birmingham, ii. 90, 91 
 Birstal, ii. 139 
 
 Birth, Time of, Disputed, i. 3, 141 
 Birthday Salute, ii. 255 
 
INDEX. 
 
 321 
 
 Bishop, A. B., i. 164 
 Bisson, Jenny, i. 125, 126 
 Bitterness of Spirit, ii. 1 
 Blaauw, W. H., i. 355 
 Blacksmith, Village, ii. 140 
 Blackwall, ii. 70 
 Blair, Surgeon, ii. 165 
 Blashford, Miss, i. 173 
 Blessing, The Pope’s, ii. 7 
 Blessington, ii. 167 
 Blomfield, Bishop, ii. 234, 235, 273 
 Blood, Vitality of the, ii. 282 
 Bodleian Library, i. 358 ; ii. 65, 66 
 Boethius, ii. 172 
 Bogan, Zachary, i. 77 
 Bolden Book, ii. 65, 66 
 Bolingbroke, ii. 172 
 Bolton Abbey, ii. 139 
 Bolton, Miss, i. 211 
 Bonaparte, N., i. 335 ; ii. 237 
 Bond, T., i. 157 
 Bonnet, Charles, i. 255 
 Book Committee, ii. 184 
 Books, i. 137, 138, 162, 178, 184, 198, 
 211, 212, 227, 228, 330 
 Books, Borrowed, ii. 225 
 Books, Classical School, i. 11 
 Books, Duty on, ii. 151 
 Books, Hermetical, i. 101 
 Books, Nursery and Children’s, i. 40 
 Books out of Place, ii. 93 
 Books, Valuable, ii. 257, 261 
 Borough mongers, ii. 274 
 Bos, Lambert, ii. 179 
 Bossuet, ii. 6 
 Boswell, ii. 107, 108 
 Boswellising, ii. 107 
 Bosworth, Mr., ii. 172 
 Bowdler, i. 330 
 
 Boyd, H. S., ii. 85, 87, 92, 179 
 Boyd, Mr., i. 6 
 Boyle, Hon. R., i. 185 
 Boyle, Mr., i. 163, 165 
 Boyne, Battle of the, i. 32, 33 
 Brackenbury, R. C., i. 109, 113, 117, 
 118, 123, 124, 129, 131, 153, 164 
 Brackenbury, Mrs., i. 113 
 Bradburn, S., i. 175, 185, 187, 188, 190, 
 191—193, 202, 248, 249, 287 ; ii. 
 109, 110 
 
 Bradford, Jos., i. 103, 131, 217, 276 
 Bradford, Wilts, i. 72, 74, 91 
 Bradford, Yorkshire, ii. 201 
 Brady, i. 355 
 Brandt, Dr., i. 271 
 Bread, Want of, ii. 198 
 Breastplate, Arch Druids’, ii. 189 
 Bredin, J., i. 65, 68, 126 
 Breeding, Good, ii. 8 
 Brettell, John, i. 52 
 Bridaine, Life of, ii. 5, 6 
 Bridgewater Canal, i. 276 
 VOL. II. 
 
 Briggs, Miss, i. 169 
 
 Bristol, i. 72, 81, 85, 86, 88, 129, 135, 
 150, 151, 153, 154, 230, 231 ; ii. 73, 
 198 
 
 Britannicus Codex, i. 177 ; ii. 38 
 British Constitution, ii. 67, 141 
 Broadbent, J., i. 363 ; ii. 69, 205 
 Bromley, J., ii. 273, 281 
 Brook, Henry, ii. 236 
 Brookes, Mr. and Mrs., i. 252, 253 ; ii. 
 152 
 
 Broom, The, i. 267 
 Brotherhood of Man, i. 135 
 Brown, Captain, i. 276 
 Brown, George, ii. 239 
 Brown, Lieut. J., i. 110 
 Bruce, i. 194 
 Bruerton, ii. 240 
 Buckley’s Scipio, i. 274 
 Buddha, Priests of, ii# 128, 150, 152 
 Bull, Bishop, ii. 71 
 Bulls, Papal, i. 357 — 359 ; ii. 67 
 Bulmer, Mr. and Mrs., i. 225, 226 ; ii. 
 23 
 
 Bunting, Dr. J., i. Preface, xiii., xvi., 
 Ill, 169, 317, 331, 344 ; ii. 59, 60, 
 89, 120, 133, 139, 164, 170, 213, 234, 
 242, 265, 267, 268 
 Bunting, Henry, ii. 70 
 Bunyan, i. 331, 332, 340 
 Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress, ii. 63 
 Burdsall, J., i. 213 
 Burgess, Dr., ii. 31 
 Burial of the Dead, ii. 37 
 Burnett, Bishop, ii. 2 
 Burns, Robert, i. 340 ; ii. 174 
 Burnside, i. 52 
 Burravoe, ii. 231 
 Burslem, ii. 239, 240 
 Burton, Miss, i. 268 
 Bury, Refusing to, ii. 37 
 Burying Places, i. 231 
 Butter worth. Rev. J.,i. 276 
 Butterworth, Joseph, Esq., i., 224, 225, 
 254, 260, 303, 316, 336, 344, 355 ; 
 ii. 23, 28, 31, 38, 43, 62-67, 85, 
 135, 138, 140—143, 166, 202, 204, 
 206, 212, 224 
 
 Butterworth, Mr. and Mrs., i. 225, 226, 
 254 
 
 Buttras,'i. 225 
 Buxton, ii. 161 
 Byng, Gen. Sir John, ii. 81 
 Byron, Lord, ii. 257 
 Byzantine Writers, ii. 3 
 
 C 
 
 Ctesar's Commentaries, i. 11, 12 
 Caesar, Julius, i. 330, 331 
 Caesar, Rights of God and, ii. 141 
 V 
 
822 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Cayley, J., Esq., ii. 202 
 Cayley, Mr., ii. 66 
 Calloway, J., ii. 151 
 Calton Hill, ii. 174 
 Calvin, i. Sfe 
 
 Calvinism, i. 364 ; ii. 127, 190 
 
 Calvinists, i. 346 
 
 Cambridge, i. 359 ; ii. 63, 94 
 
 Cameron, Rev. — , i. 19 
 
 Campion, J., ii. 228, 281 
 
 Candlish, Dr., i. 133 
 
 Candour, ii. 14 
 
 Candour and Charity, ii. 95 
 
 Canning, Mr., ii. 221 
 
 Cannon, Inscriptions on. i, 365 
 
 Canonbury Square, ii. 185 
 
 Canterbury, Archbishop of, ii. 147 
 
 Carelessness, ii. 105 
 
 Carey, ii. 166 
 
 Carlisle, City of, ii. 174 
 
 Carlisle, Sir Anthony, ii. 167 
 
 Carlisle, the Infidel, ii. 150 
 
 Carlyle, Dr. J. D., i. 324, 325 
 
 Caroline, Queen, ii. 150, 159, 160 
 
 Carrickfergus, Siege of, i. 3, 32 
 
 Carrieres, M.D., i. 321 
 
 Carte, i. 355 
 
 Carte Collection, ii. 66 
 
 Cartoons, i. 141 
 
 Case, Rev. W., ii. 255 
 
 Caste], i. 275 
 
 Castlereagh, Lord, i. 347 
 
 Cato Street Conspiracy, ii. 150 
 
 Causeway, Giants’, ii. 42 
 
 Came, J., ii. 155, 157 
 
 Cayley, J., i. 351 
 
 Celibacy, ii. 172 
 
 Ceylon, ii. 128 
 
 Chalmers, Dr., i. 133, 178 ; ii. 203 
 Chamber’s Encyclopaedia, i. 108 
 Chandler, Bishop, ii. 73 
 Channel Islands, i. 131 
 Chapel, City Road, i. 306 
 Chapel, Erection of, i. 60 
 Chapel Opening, ii. 201, 214 
 Chapel Opening Tumult, ii. 180 
 Chapels for the Poor, ii. 125 
 Chapels, Settlement of, ii. 115 
 Chappell, G. R., ii. 223, 238, 244 
 Chappell, Miss Har., ii. 223 
 Chapter House, i. 359 
 Character, i. 291 
 Character, How Formed, i. 211 
 Character, Pub4o, i. 305, 306, 309 
 Characteristic, i. 142 
 Charlemont, ii. 40 
 Charles I., i 358 
 Charles II., ii. 215 
 Charlotte, Queen, ii. 239 
 Charters, Ancient, ii. 65, 66 
 Chaucer, i. 27, 332 
 Cheerfulness, i. 259 
 
 Cheese, Rich, i. 299 
 Chevy Chase, i. 30, 34 
 Chewstoke, i. 236 
 Chichester, Bishop of, ii. 273^ 
 
 Chieftain, The, ii. 277 
 Children, Feeling for, ii. 100 
 Children, Love to, ii. 91 
 Children, Swinging, ii. 9 
 Children, Treatment of, i. 163 
 China, ii. 203 
 Chiromancy, i. 39 
 Cholera, ii. 277, 278, 281-284 
 Christ, Divinity of, ii. 3 
 Chronicles, 2, xxxv. 20 — 24, xxxvi. 1, 2",. 
 ii. 154 
 
 Chrysostom, St., ii. 87 
 Church, Lieutenant, i. 16 
 Church, W., i. 97, 117 
 Church, Captain, ii. 42 
 Church and the World, ii. 273 
 Church. The Established, ii. 204 
 Church Gifts and Lands, i. 356 
 Church Hours, Preaching in, ii. 
 
 199 
 
 Church of England, i. 83, 87 
 Cicero, i. 106 
 
 Cingalese Priests, ii. 128, 133 
 Circuits, Large, i. 89, 95 
 Clare Hill, i. 136 
 Clarke, Dr., Ancestry of, i. 2 
 Clarke, Dr., A Life of, i. Preface, xiiL 
 Clarke, Dr., Appearance of, i. 106 
 ■ Clarke, Dr., Character and Learning ofj, 
 I ii. 20, 21 
 
 ; Clarke, Dr., Unkind Treatment of, ii. 
 i 113 
 
 j Clarke, Dr., The Family of, i. 3 ^ 
 
 ! Clarke, John, Adam’s Father, i, 4, 5,. 
 231 
 
 Clarke, Mrs., Adam’s Mother, i. 4, 7 ^ 
 8, 26 
 
 Clarke, Mrs., Death of Adam’s Mother,, 
 ii. 44 
 
 Clarke, Mrs., i. 163, 164, 180, 182, 370 j 
 ii. 173, 285 
 
 Clarke, J. B. B., ii. 259, 283 
 Clarke, J. E., ii. 3 
 Clarke, J. and T., i. Ill 
 Clarke, Joseph, ii. 201 
 Clarke, J. W. ii. 38, 165 
 Clarke, S., ii. 215 
 Clarke, Thras., ii. 284, 285 
 Clarke, Tracey, i. 3, 118, 267, 338 ; iL 
 69, 155, 165, 198 
 Clarke, William, i. 32 
 Clarence, Duke of, ii. 221 
 Class Meetings, i. 57, 184, 313 
 Classes, Meeting of, i. 140, 150, 153, 
 277, 334, 335, 340 
 Classics, Variorum, i. 283 
 Classical Journal, ii. 27, 28 
 Clavis Biblica, ii. 131, 132 
 
INDEX. 
 
 323 
 
 Clayton, J., i. 334| 
 
 Cleanliness, i. 115 
 Clean thus, Hymn of, ii. 71 
 Clergy, Established, ii. 234 
 Clock, A, ii. 198 
 Clonites, The, ii. 158 
 Closet Communion, ii, 224 
 Clough, Rev. B., ii. 128, 281 
 Clunk, The, i. 49 
 Clutton, i. 150 
 Clyde, ii. 177 
 Cock-fighting, i. 20 
 Cock Road, i. 238, 240 
 Coin, William and Mary, ii. 61 
 Coincidence, ii. 234 
 Coins, Old, ii. 120, 196, 226, 262 
 Cake, Dr., i. 97, 123, 126, 140, 166,176, 
 214, 247, 313, 344 ; ii. 36, 73, 83, 
 117, 128, 163, 205 
 Coke, Dr., Life of. Preface, xiii. 
 
 Cold, Intense, i. 342 
 Cold Weather, ii. 68 
 Coleman, Andrew, i. 59 
 Coleraine, i. 54, 61, 62 ; ii. 156, 177, 
 246, 276 
 
 Coleridge, i. Preface, vii., 142 
 Collections in Chapel, ii. 53, 54, 82 
 Colleges, ii. 193 
 Collins, B. B., i. 176 
 Collinson, Agnes, i. 226 
 Colombo, ii. 129, 132 
 Comer, Mr., ii. 281 
 Comfort, French, ii. 209 
 Commentary, i. 177, 178, 212, 213, 228, 
 229, 233,234, 236-238, 295,301, 
 356, 362 ; ii. 20, 23, 28, 34, 62, 63, 
 68, 70, 89, 114. 144, 1.52, 171, 172, 
 179, 185, 190, 195, 201—203, 220, 
 239, 252, 255, 287 
 Commerce, ii. 148 
 
 Commissioners of Public Records, i. 
 
 321, 356, 358, 367 
 Communicant, ii. 183 
 Communion of Saints, i. 135 
 Compliments, ii. 152 
 Conchology, ii. 195 
 Conference of 1849, Preface, xiv. 
 Conference, Harmony of, i. 182, 200,204 
 Confession, i. 333 
 Confidence, ii. 281 
 Conflict, Mental, i. 118 
 Confusion, i. 157 
 Conscience, i. 64 
 Consideration, i, 142 
 Consistency, ii. 76, 77 
 Contentions, i. 156, 157, 200, 209 
 Contentment, i. 193, 203 
 Controversy, i. 364, 365, 369 
 Controversy, Aversion to, i. 95 
 Conversation, i. 330, 368 ; ii. 107 
 Conversational Biography, i. Preface, 
 viii. — X. 
 
 Conversions, i. 238, 240, 241 
 Conviction and Conversion, i. 55 
 Convicts, ii. 251 
 Conway, i. 156 
 
 Cooke, The Family, i. 90, 110, 116, 126, 
 131, 164 ^ 
 
 Cooke, Captain, ii. 227 
 Cooke, Eliza, i. 90, 110 
 Cooke, Mary, i. 74, 91, 110, 112 
 Cooke, Mr., of Dublin, ii. 155 
 Cooke, Sarah, ii. 165 
 Cooper, Mrs., i. 369 
 Coopman, Mrs., i. 165 
 Copies and Originals, ii. 215 
 Copper Ore, ii. 157 
 Cork, ii. 177, 198, 199 
 Cork, Earl of, ii. 283 
 Comer, Mrs., ii. 281 
 Cornwall, i. 257 
 Cornwall, Visit to, ii. 137 
 Cornwallis, Marquis, i. 336 
 Cornwallis, Sir William, i. 368 
 Correspondence, i. 213, 313, 318 ; ii. 186, 
 238 
 
 Correspondent, The, i. 167 
 Corsair, The, ii. 245, 276 
 Cottle, Jos., i. 38 
 Cottonian Collection, i. 359 
 Count, an Italian, i. 103, 104, 116 
 Country, Love of, i. 336 
 Courage, i. 14, 15 
 Covet, ii. 61 
 
 Creighton, Rev. J., i. 329 ; ii. 86 
 
 Creation, i. 295, 297 
 
 Creed, A Safe, ii. 253 
 
 Cretans, ii. 72 
 
 Cricket, J., ii. 179 
 
 Crishna, ii. 26 
 
 Croley, Dr., i. 229 
 
 Cromie, Mr., i. 49, 98 
 
 Cromie, J., Esq., ii. 246, 247 
 
 Cromwell, Olivt-r, i. 365 
 
 Cross, The, ii. 93 
 
 Crousay's Art of Thinking, i. 138, 139 
 Cruden, A., ii. 35, 95 
 Crusoe, Robinson," i. 37 
 Cubitt, G., i. Preface, xiii. 
 
 Cuen’s, St., i. 128 
 Cultivation, Self, ii. 136, 192 
 Curiosities, ii. 196, 215, 261 
 Curse, An Irish, i. 44 
 Custom House Officers, i. 184 
 Customs^ Oriental, i. 36.0 
 
 D 
 
 Dales, The, i. 285 
 
 Dalmas, Count de St., i. 103, 104, 116 
 Dancing, i. 48, 227 
 Dangers, Personal, i. 24, 
 
 Darling, Mr., ii. 174, 175 
 
 V 2 
 
324 INDEX. 
 
 David, ii. 206 
 Davies, Humphrey, i. 148 
 Dawson, W., ii. 45, 81, 127 
 Dealing, False, i. 63, 64 
 Death, i. 303 
 Death. Sentence of, ii. 13 
 Deborah’s Hymn, i. 47 
 Debt, i. 81, 152 
 Debts, Public, ii. 82, 84 
 Deception, Self, ii. 273 
 Declaration, Deed of, i. 97 
 Dedication, ii. 151 
 Dee, Dr. John, ii. 225 
 Deism, i. 204 
 Delays, ii. 197 
 Demosthenes, ii. 6 
 Denham, ii. 240 
 De Quetteville, ii. 36 
 Derby, ii. 161 
 
 Derby Family, The, ii. 165, 185 
 Desarfc, Martin, ii. 40 
 Deslon, M., i. 144 
 Devil, ii. 105 
 
 Devonshire, Duke of, ii. 178 
 Derry, i. 66, 67 
 Diamond, An Irish, ii. 157 
 Diarrhoea, ii. 284 
 Dickenson Peard, i. 202 
 Dictionaries, ii. 7 
 
 Diligence, i. 147, 175, 176; ii. 85, 191 
 Diodorus Siculus, ii. 72 
 Diogenes Lae’rtius, ii. 72 
 Dioscorus, St., Liturgy of, ii. 214 
 Diplomas, Dissertation on, i. 319 
 Dirt, i. 115 
 
 Disciplinarian, Severe, i. 9 
 Discontent, i. 214 
 Dishonesty, i. 63 
 Disinterestedness, i. 362 
 Disruption of 1849, Appendix, No. 3 
 Disputes, i. 217 
 Diss, i. 92 
 
 Dissension, i. 84, 86, 214 
 Dissent, i. 302 
 Dissenters, ii. 37 
 Divinity, English, ii. 257 
 Dixon, Mr., i. 314 
 Doctorate, ii. 34 
 Doctrines, Wesleyan, i. 344 
 Dodd, Rev., i. 85 
 Doggrel, i. 76, 78 
 Domestic Comfort, ii. 173 
 Donaghadee, ii. 276 
 Donations, ii. 69, 70 
 Dooms-day Book, i. 359 
 Douglas, Gawin, ii. 63 
 Dow, Lorenzo, ii. 157 
 Drayton, Michael ; i. 34, ii. 229 
 Dreams, i. 76, 101, 111 ; ii. 232 
 Drew, S., i. 100, 105, 129, 368, 369 ; ii. 
 95 
 
 Drew’s ‘^Life of Coke,” i. Preface, xiii. 
 
 Driving, Furious, ii. 198 
 
 Drowning, i. 24 
 
 Druids, i. 156, 157 
 
 Druid’s, Arch, Breastplate, ii. 189 
 
 Drummond, Sir W., i. 146 
 
 Drunkenness, i. 307 
 
 Dryden, i. 248 
 
 Dublin, i. 128, 155, 156, 160-162, 173, 
 182; ii. 38, 43, J55-158, 177, 179 
 Dublin College, i. 174 
 Dublinensis Codex, i. 177 ; ii. 38 
 Dumfries, ii. 174 
 Dunciad, The, i. 138 
 Dundalk, ii. 39 
 Dunlace Castle, ii. 42 
 Dunleary, ii. 157 
 
 Dunn, Rev. S., i. Preface, xiii. ; ii. 170, 
 173 
 
 Duplicity, i. 321 ^ 
 
 Durham, ii. 65 
 Dutton, Mr., i. 250 
 
 E 
 
 Earle, Bishop, i. 305 
 Early Days, Scenes of, i. 18, 339 
 Early Piety, i. 52, 55, 56 
 Early Rising, i. 63, 176; ii. 135, 191, 
 243, 246 
 
 Earnestness, ii. 85 
 Eastcot, ii. 190 
 Easton, Dr., i. 202 
 Easton, John, i. 252 
 Ebenezer Chapel, ii. 179 
 Eclectic Review, i. 309, 311, 368 ; ii. 
 10, 38 
 
 Eclectic Society, i. 326, ii. 243 
 Ecclesiastes, xi. 2, i. 323 
 Edinburgh, ii. 174, 205 
 Edmondson, Dr. ii. 209 
 Edmondson, Mr., ii. 230, 23 
 Education, i. 10, 17, 18, 51, 142, 143, 
 186, 370, ii. 44, 74, 100, 101, 105, 
 193, 204, 262, 263, 277 
 Education of Preachers, School for, i. 
 315, 317 
 
 Edward I., ii. 67 
 
 Egypt, Discoveries in, ii. 153,. 154 
 Electricity, i. 158, 223 
 Elf-Stones, ii. 189 
 Elizabeth, Queen, i. 356, ii. 67 
 Elsmere, ii. 70 
 Emancipation, Slave, ii. 282 
 Emmett, Mr., i. 133 
 Encyclopaedia, Brit., i. 139 
 Endowments, Pious, i., 356 
 England, A. Clarke in, i. 69, 70 
 England, History of, i. 321, 355 
 English Character, ii. 226 
 English Language, ii. 56, 192, 193 
 Enthusiasm, ii. 145 
 
INDEX. 
 
 325 
 
 Enthusiasm, Sermon on, i. 95 
 Entwistle, J., it. 133, 164, 286 
 Envy, ii. 268 
 Epicurus, i. 194 
 Epigram, ii. 11 
 Epimenides, ii. 72 
 Epworth, ii. 161 
 Erasmus, i. 171, 199, ii. 38 
 Eribal, Zach, ii. 42 
 Erskine, Dr. i. 364, ii. 128 
 Erskine, Lady, i. 228 
 Eschylus, ii. 72 
 Ess, Professor Von, ii. 201 
 Essay on Essays, i. 368 
 Etheridge, J. W., i. Preface xiii.— xv. 
 Eucharist, The, i. 361, 362 
 Eupolis, Hymn of, i. 256 
 Europe, ii. 219 
 Euscambion, ii. 232 
 Evangelists, The Four, ii. 5 
 Everett, i. 149, ii. 162 
 Everingham, Miss, ii. 284 
 Evesham, Battle of, i. 355 
 Evils, Choice of, ii. 282 
 Ewer, Mr., i. 199 
 Exactness, ii. 61, 198 
 Excursions, Preaching, ii. 137, 155, 172, 
 179, 213, 232, 244, 251, 262, 269, 
 274 
 
 Exertions, Over, ii. 191 
 Exley, Mr., i. 295, 
 
 Exley, T., ii. 225, 283 
 Expectation, Disappointed, i. 12 
 Experience, Christian, i. 2fe — 291, 347 
 Experimental Eeligion, ii. 273 
 Expository Sermons, ii. 48 
 Expounding Scriptures, i. 208, 233, 360 
 Extravagance, Religious, i. 159, 160 
 Eyes, Affected, i. 216, ii. 195, 197, 198, 
 203 
 
 Ezekiel, xxiii. 2, ii. 2 
 
 F 
 
 Factory Bill and Children, ii. 100 
 Fairfax, General, i. 365 
 Fairies, ii. 199 
 “ Faery Queene,” i. 251 
 Faith, i. 109, 154, 288, 289, ii. 280 
 Faith, Treatise on, ii. 45 
 Fall of Man, ii. 2 
 Fallen, Restore the, ii. 97 
 Fare, Scanty, i. 97— 99, 161 
 Farmer, Dr. T., i. 355 
 Farming, ii. 98, 99, 100, 136 
 Farneworth, Mr. Ellis, i. 312 
 Faroe Isles, ii. 230 
 Fasting, i. 135 
 Father, God a, i. 9 
 Fathers, Ancient, ii. 22 
 Fathers, Christian, i. 329 
 
 Favours, On Soliciting, i. 345 
 Fault-finding, ii. 8, 96 
 Fazel, Abul, i. 236 
 Feelings, Tender, i. 257 
 Fell, Dr., ii. 27 
 Feltham, Mr., i. 134 
 Female Influence, i. 72, 132, 133 
 Fenelon, ii. 172 
 Fiction, Works of, i. 40, 41 , 
 
 Fidelity, i. 278 
 Field’s Bible, i. 251, 252 
 Field’s Septuagint, ii. 179 
 Fire, Destructive, ii. 156 
 Fire-Stirring, ii. 68 
 Fishing, i. 22, 23, 26, ii. 99 
 Flavel, i. 340 
 
 Fletcher, Rev. J., i. 76, ii. 9, 10, 178 
 
 Fletchers, The, i. 251 
 
 Fletcher’s “ Purple Island,” i. 32, ii. 63 
 
 Fleury, i. 312, 313 
 
 Flixton, i. 187 
 
 “ Foedera,” i. 351, 352, 353, 354, 359 
 “ Foedera,” Rymer’s, ii. 38, 66 
 Food, Blessing on, i. 202 
 Food, Cheap, i. 48 
 “ Fool of Quality,” i. 252 
 Forgiveness, i. 333 
 Forgery, i. 169, 170 
 Forshaw, ii. 276, 277, 283 
 Foster, J., i. 107, 311 
 Foula, ii. 231 
 
 Foundation Stone of a Chapel, ii. 231 
 
 Fox, Mr. C., i. 242—244 
 
 Franklin, Dr. B., ii. 104 
 
 Franks, Mr., i. 171 
 
 Frey’s Hebrew Bible, ii. 186 
 
 Frederick the Great, i. 362 
 
 Frembly, Captain, ii. 208 
 
 French Language, i. 103, 108, 125, 131 
 
 French Revolution, i. 197 
 
 Freshford, i. 131 
 
 Friendship, i. 101, 212, 257, 333 
 
 Friendship, Broken, ii. 158 
 
 Friendship, Constancy in, ii. 96, 244 
 
 Frome, ii. 283 
 
 Fry, Mrs., i. 185 
 
 Fuller, Andrew, li. 112 
 
 Fuller, Dr., i. 267 
 
 Fund, Chapel, ii. 125 
 
 Fund, Legalised, i. 231, 304 
 
 Fund, Superannuated Preacher’s, i. 343 
 
 Funeral, A Popish, i. 363 
 
 Funeral Sermons, ii. 92 
 
 Furniture, House, ii. 185 
 
 G 
 
 Gaisford, Professor, ii. 64, 65 
 Galand, i. 246 
 Galations, vi. 15, ii. 279 
 Galgoram, ii. 250 
 
326 INDEX. 
 
 Galland, T., ii. 63 
 
 Galt, J., i. 61, 69 
 
 Gambold, Eev. John, ii. 250 
 
 Game, ii. 185 
 
 Gaming, i. 20. 54 
 
 Garbutt, R., ii. 122 
 
 Garrett, Phil, ii. 101 
 
 Garva. i. 16 
 
 Garvah, ii. 40 
 
 Gasebo, i. 55 
 
 Gaulter, J., i. 171 
 
 Generosity, ii. 181, 207, 224 
 
 Genesis, i. 20, i. 295 
 
 Genius, Indications of, i. 50— 52 
 
 Genius, Mechanical, i. 102 
 
 Geological Society, i. Appendix No. 1 
 
 Geological Society, Member of, ii. 171 
 
 George IV. and his Queen, ii. 150, 159, 
 
 160 
 
 Giant’s Causeway, ii. 42, 156, 177, 246 
 
 Gibbon, i. 195, 269 
 
 Gibbon, General, i. 357 
 
 Gifts, Pious, i. 356 
 
 Gillies, Dr., i. 332 
 
 Gipsies, i. 44 
 
 Gitagovinda, ii. 26 
 
 Girtanner, i. 195 
 
 Glasgow, ii. 176. 177 
 
 Glass, Pane of, ii. 247 
 
 Glass, Writing on, i. 203, 204, 206 
 
 Gleig, Dr., i. 139 
 
 Glenarme, i. 4 
 
 Glenbervie, Lord, ii. 66 
 
 Gloucester, Duke of, ii. 243 
 
 God, Omnipotence of, ii. 4 
 
 God, Seeing, in Heaven, ii. 4 
 
 Godfathers and Godmothers, i. 6 
 
 Goldsmith, Dr. 0., i. 234 
 
 Golius’s “ Lexicon,” ii. 187 
 
 Good’s Book of Nature,” ii. 240 
 
 Gore, James, i. 154 
 
 Gospel, A Free, ii. 53, 54 
 
 Gospels, Harmony of, ii. 2 
 
 Gossitt, Dr., i. 199 
 
 Gough, E., i. 312 
 
 Goulburn, Henry, ii, 131 
 
 Government, Church, i. 132, 133 
 
 Government, Civil, ii. 105 
 
 Gown, Clerical, ii. 1 
 
 Grace Hill, ii. 42, 246, 249 
 
 Grace, Various Operations of, i. 55, 56 
 
 Grainger, Miss, ii. 170 
 
 Grammars, i. 362 
 
 Grammar, Hebrew, i. 71> 72 
 
 Grange, The, i. 4 
 
 Grapes, i. 118, ii. 221 
 
 Grave’s Sect, i. 312 
 
 Gray, i. 27 
 
 Greatheed, Samuel, i. 309, 310, 311, 368 
 
 Greek Article, ii. 85, 179 
 
 Greek Language, Spread of, ii. 26, 87, 
 
 1 Qf>. 
 
 Greenland, ii. 230 
 Greenley, Charles, ii. 284, 285 
 Gregory, Dr. 0., i. 228 
 Griesbach, Dr., i. 259 
 Griffith, W., i. 217, 231 
 Griffith, Walter, ii. 194 
 Grimshaw, Eev. W., ii. 243 
 Grindstones, i. 277 
 Grove, The, i. 9 
 
 Guernsey, i. 111^ 116, 118, 122^ 123, 126 
 Guilleaume, Mrs., i. 128 
 Gurney, Bevan, ii. 70 
 
 H 
 
 Habie’s How, ii. 174, 175, 176 
 
 Habits, Early, i. 22 
 
 Habits, Good, i. 115 
 
 Habits, Regular, i. 307 
 
 Hadfield, Bishop, ii. 65 
 
 Hair, A Family Tribute, ii. 286 
 
 Hair, Grey, i. 245 
 
 Hair, Powdered, i. 201 
 
 Hair, Rapid Growth of, i. 124, 227 
 
 Hale, Sir M., ii. 121 
 
 Halifax, i. 60, 132, 133^ 134, ii. 239 
 
 Hall, Colonel, ii. 178 
 
 Hall, John, ii. 198 
 
 Hall, Mrs., i. 135, 149, 180, ii. 164 
 
 Hall, Mrs. John, ii. 198 
 
 Hall, Robert, i. 178, 213, 228. 311, ii. 
 
 3, 10, 35, 202, 287 
 Hallam, i. 355 
 Halleluiah, ii. 15 
 Hamburgh, i. 337 
 Hamilton, Duke of, ii. 197 
 Hamilton, Dr., i. 228 
 Hamilton, Dr. W., ii. 80 
 Hampden, i. 355 
 
 Hampson, J. Senior, i. 95, 97 i 171 
 
 Hampson, J. Junior, i. 166 ; ii. 142 
 
 Hanby, T., i. 176 
 
 Hand, Mr., i. 194, 195 
 
 Hanson, Miss, i. 369 
 
 Hardihood^ Physical, i. 30 
 
 Harding, Mr., ii. 239 
 
 Hardships, Ministerial, i* 96, 97, 99 
 
 Harley, Earl of Oxford, ii. 172 
 
 Harmer’s Observations, i. 360 
 
 Harmony, i. 182, 304 
 
 Harmony, Sacred, ii. 15 
 
 Harolds wick, ii. 230 
 
 Harper, Rev. S., ii. 252, 276 
 
 “ Hart King,” ii. 63 
 
 Harvard, Mr., ii. 128 
 
 Hastings, Mr., i. 236 
 
 ^‘Hats Off,” ii. 226 
 
 Hat, The Old, ii. 210 
 
 Hats, Three Cornered, i. 216 
 
 Haunted House, i. 16 
 
 Hawes, Dr., ii. 274 
 
INDEX. 
 
 327 
 
 Hawker, Dr., i. 287 
 Hawkey, Mrs., i. 221 
 Hay, Mr., i. 271 
 
 Hayden Hall, i. 352 ; ii. 168, 190, 214, 
 216, 217, 252, 255, 278, 285 
 Health, Failing, ii. 73, 89, 155, 181, 
 182, 189, 190, 203, 217, 225, 238, 
 239, 240, 274, 281 
 Health, Enjoyment of, ii. 244 
 Health Impaired, i. 115, 119, 121, 122, 
 154, 161, 182, 244, 257, 272, 360 
 Hearers, Critical, i. 159 
 Hearnshaw, J., i. 277 
 Heart, The, ii. 219 
 Hebrew, i. 362 ; ii. 33 
 Hebrew Bible, i. 152, 229 
 Hebrew Grammar, i. 71, 72 
 Hebrew Manuscript, ii. 217 
 Hebrew Poetry, ii. 183 
 Hebrew Points, ii. 179, 183, 187 
 Hebrews xi. 6 ; ii. 
 
 Hebrides, The, ii. 170, 208 
 Hedaiyah, i. 238 
 Hehl, Father, i. 143 
 Heliers, St., i. 109, 111, 118, 128, 132 
 Help, Timely, ii. 207 
 Hemans, Mrs., i. 174 
 Henderson, John, i. 38, 136 
 Henry, Dr., i. 323 
 Henry, M., ii. 257 
 Henry III., i. 354 ; ii. 67 
 Henry VIII., i. 327, 356; ii. 67 
 Heroclitus, ii. 44 
 Herbolit, De, i. 246 
 Herbert, George, ii. 208 
 • Hermes, i. 195, 196 
 Herodotus, ii. 154 
 Hervey, Dr., ii. 282 
 Hervey’s Meditations, i. 68 
 Hervey, Rev. J., ii. 18 
 Hibernia, The, ii. 251 
 Hick, Sammy, ii. 140 
 Hickling, ii. 281 
 Hickling, Mr. T., ii. 168 
 Highwayman, i. 75 
 History, Oriental, i. 177 
 History, Thoughts on, i. 322 
 Hoare, Prince, i. 185 
 Hobbs, Mr., ii. 283, 284 
 Hodgson, R., i. 200 
 Hodgson, T., i. 150, 151 
 Holbeck, ii. 80 
 
 Holdcroft, Mr., i. 318 ; ii. 156, 262 
 Holiness, i. 287 
 Holloway, T., i. 140, 141 
 Holme’s Septuagint, i. 311 
 Holy, T., Esq., ii. 182, 215, 216 
 Holyhead, i. 156 
 Holyrood House, ii. 174 
 Home, i. 218 
 
 Home, Love of, ii. 241 — 245 
 Homer, i. 341 ; ii. 246 
 
 Homilies of Church of England, ii. 57 
 
 Honour, i. 349, 350 
 
 Honours, Diplomatic, i. 326 
 
 Honours, Literary, ii. 34, 69, 114 
 
 Honours, Unmerited, i. 327 
 
 Hood, Robin, i. 33, 34 ; ii. 161 
 
 Hooght, Van der, ii. 186 
 
 Hook, J., i. 110; ii. 165, 168, 185, 196 
 
 Hook, Mrs., ii. 283, 285 
 
 Plook, The Family of, ii. 165 
 
 Hook’s Roman History, ii. 172 
 
 Hoole, Elijah, ii. 133 
 
 Hop, Island of, ii. 177 
 
 Hops, i. 138 
 
 Hopkins, R., ii. 139 
 
 Hopper, Christopher, i, 284, 285 
 
 Horace, i. 95, 297 
 
 Hore, Mr. J., i. 108, 152 
 
 Horne, J. H., i. 348 
 
 Horne, Mary, i. 124 
 
 Horse, Care of, i. 75 
 
 Horse Exercise, i. 122, 123 
 
 Horse, Favourite, i. 100 
 
 Horse, Favourite, Death of, i. 255 
 
 Horse, Good, ii. 243 
 
 Horse, The White, ii. 197, 198 
 
 Horsley, Bishop, i. 36 
 
 Hospitality, ii. 152 
 
 House, Consecration of, i, 260, 264 
 
 House Furnishing, ii. 185 
 
 House Preachers, i. 206 
 
 Hugh, Dr., ii. 168 
 
 Hughes, Rev. J., ii. 35 ’ 
 
 Hull, ii. 122, 180 
 Humane Society, Royal, i. 25 
 Hume, D., i. 321—355 
 Humility, i. 184, 349, 350 
 Hunmanby, ii. 201 
 Hunt, Mr., ii. 150 
 Hunter, Dr. W., i. 284 
 Hunter, Mr., i. 174 
 Hunterian Museum, ii. 177 
 Huntingdon, Lady, ii. 36 
 Husband, A Faulty, i. 96 
 Hutchinson, Mrs., i. 6 
 Hyder, Nabob, i. 241, 242 
 Hymn Book, Wesleyan, i. 247 
 Hymnology, ii. 250 
 Hymns, ii. 94 
 Hymns, French, ii. 231 
 Hymns, Unsuitable, ii. 82 
 Hymns, Wesleyan, ii. 14 — 16 
 
 I 
 
 Idleness, ii. 84, 120 
 Ignis Fatuus, i. 13, 14, 15 
 Ignorance, ii. 263 
 Ignorance, Ministerial, i. 293 
 Illness, ii. 276 
 
 Illumination, General, i. 116 
 
328 
 
 INDEX, 
 
 Illustrative Power, i. 320 
 Impatience, ii. 206 
 Impressions, ii. 281 
 
 Improvement, Mental, i. 99, 100, 108, 112 
 Improvement, Personal, ii. 186, 192 
 Inchera, Island of, ii. 177 
 Independence, i. 299, 306 ; ii. 69, 120, 207 
 India, Projected Work on, i. 245 
 Indulgence, Personal, i. 22 
 Industry, i. 147, 175, 176, 229, 272 ; ii. 
 191 
 
 Infidelity, i. 232, 268, 269, 360 
 Ingham, J., i. 91, 97 
 Innkeeper, i. 186 
 Inscription, Latin, i. 11, 239, 240 
 Inscription, Singular, i. 239, 242, 272 
 Intellect, March of, ii. 7 
 Interment, Places of, i. 231, 232 
 Interpreter, i. 104 
 Invention, i. 367 
 Investigation, Power of, i. 320 
 Invitations to Preachers, i. 207 
 Ireland, Mr., i. 136 
 Ireland, i. 155 
 
 Ireland, Dissensions in, ii. 115, 120 
 Ireland, Eemoval to, ii. 241 
 Ireland, Visit to, ii. 64, 108, 155, 174, 
 245, 262^ ^ 
 
 Irish Antiquities, ii. 189 
 Irish Character, i. 158 ; ii. 226 
 Irish Methodists, State of, ii. 171 
 Irving, E., ii. 270 
 Irving, Washington, ii. 190 
 Isaac, B., i. 281 ; ii. 76 
 Isaiah Ixvii. 15 ; ii. 169 
 Italian Language, i. 104 
 Itinerancy, i. 59, 89, 96, 97, 29, 303 
 
 J 
 
 Jackson, T. i., preface, xiii. 
 
 Jaco, P., i. 98, 99 
 Jacomb, C., ii. 215 
 Jamaica, ii. 276 
 James 1st, i. 365 
 Jameson, Professor, ii. 176 
 Jay, Kev. W., ii. 25, 192 
 Jagadeva, ii. 26 
 Jealousy, ii. 264 
 Jebb, Dr., i. 347 / 
 
 Jeffrey, ii. 205 
 Jehovah, ii. 15 
 Jenkins, W., i. 277 
 Jeram, Rev., i. 76, 77 
 Jerome, St., ii. 70 
 
 Jersey, i. Ill, 118, 131, 160, 164, 180 
 Jersey, De, Mr., i. 118, 123, 125 
 Jews, The, ii. 219 
 Jews, Infidelity of, i. 269 
 Job, Book of, ii. 149, 152 
 1 John V. 19, ii. 2 
 
 John iii. 8, i. 296 
 John V. 25, ii. 286 
 John, King, i. 354, 355 
 John’s, St., i. 128 
 
 Johnstone, Sir Alex., ii. 127, 128, 129, 
 171 
 
 Johnson, Dr. S., i. Preface, vii. 135,. 
 
 ii. 56, 107, 108, 122, 185 
 Johnston, Mrs., i. 124 
 Johnston, Miss, i. 134, 153, 161 
 Johnston, Dr. Paul, ii. 157 
 Jones, Sir William, i. 237, 284, 310,, 
 311, ii. 66, 174 
 Jones, J., i. 85 
 Jones, Peter, ii. 255 
 Jones, Mrs., ii. 206 
 Journal, Shetland, ii. 228 
 Joy, ii. 211 
 Judge, Offer of, ii. 13 
 Junius, ii. 33 
 Justice, i. 333, 355 
 Justification, i. 288, 289, 290 
 
 K 
 
 Kahkewaquonaby, ii. 255 
 Kant, i. 286 
 
 Keich, Benjamin, i. 68, 340 
 Kennicot, Dr., i. 108, 152, ii. 217' 
 Kensington Palace, ii. 166, 168 
 Ken worthy, P., i. 278 
 Kershaw, Dr., i. 151 
 Keys, ii. 94 
 Kezzy, Wesley, ii. 164 
 Kidd, Dr., ii. 211 
 Kildare, Bishop of, i. 358 
 Kilham, A., i. 131 
 Killarney, Lake of, ii. 177 
 Kindness, i. 279, ii. 135, 181 
 Kindness, Good Effects of, i. 10 
 King, The, Praying for, i. 132 
 King, Mr., i. 92 
 
 King’s College, Aberdeen, i. 326 
 Kingsland, i. 323 
 
 Kingswood School, i. 68, 72, 121, 150,. 
 
 180, 233, 235, 237, 238, ii. 74 
 Kippis, Dr., ii. 3 
 Kneeling at Prayer, ii. 58 
 Knowledge, i. 211, 362 
 Knowledge, Biblical, ii. 79 
 Knowledge is Power, i. 319 
 Knowledge, Thirst for, i. 52, 199 
 Knox, V., i. 142 
 
 Knox, Alexander, i. 284, 347, 348, ii. 5 
 Koran, The, ii. 187 
 Kyle, Rev., i. 20 
 
 L 
 
 Labour, Early, i. 21 
 Labour, Literary, ii. 66, 73 
 
INDEX. 
 
 S29 
 
 Labour, Ministerial, i. 150, 204, 218, 
 229, 272, ii. 98, 120, 213, 222, 232, 
 243, 274 
 Lathe, i. 277 
 Lamba, Ness, ii. 230 
 Lambert, J., ii. 183 
 Lampriere, Miss, i. 125, 128 
 Laing, Father, i. 312 
 Lanark, ii. 174 
 Langtree, M., ii. 43, 116 
 Language, ii. 56, 172, 192 
 Language, Anglo-Saxon, ii. 193 
 Language, English, ii. 192, 193 
 Language Society,” ii. 133 
 Languages, i. 177, 229, 236, 239, 243, 
 309, 362, ii. 192, 193 
 Lame, i. 4 
 
 Late Attendance, ii. 197 
 Latin Tongue, i. 104, ii. 193 
 Laud, Archbishop, ii. 65 
 Laughter, i. 285 
 Lavater, i. 134 
 Lawyers, ii. 148 
 
 Learning, Acquisition of, i. 138, 177, 
 179, 314, 326 
 
 Learning, Attainments in, ii. 20, 21, 
 34, 287 
 
 Learning, Inaptitude for, i. 9, 10 
 Learning, Ignorant contempt of, i. 77, 
 78, 129 
 
 Learning, Eeadiness in, i. 11 
 Leasehold, ii. 242 
 Lectures, ii. 105 
 Lectures, Subjects for, ii. 56 
 Lee, Professor, ii. 168, 273 
 Leeds, i. 132, 133, 134, 203, ii. 201, 233 
 Leeds Conference, 1784, i. 76, 84, 85, 
 97, 128, 130, 132 
 Legacies, Pious, i. 356 
 Leigh’s Grit. Sac., i. 
 
 Leighton, i. 323 
 Lemon, Rev., i. 95 
 Leprosy, ii. 151 
 Lerwick, ii. 170, 208, 211, 223 
 Lerwick Bay, i. 92 
 Leslie, Sir John, i. 138 
 Letsome, Dr., i. 24, 25 
 Letters, ii. 107 
 
 Letters of Dr. A. Clarke, i. 110, 113 
 Lewes, Battle of, i. 355 
 Lexicons, i. 362, ii. 33 
 Liberty, Christian, i. 55 
 Liberty, Civil, i. 223, 224, 355 
 Library, i. 70, 148 
 Library, Alexandrian, i. 230 
 Library, Duke of Sussex’s, ii. 167, 168 
 Library, Select, i. 148 
 Library, The Doctor’s, ii. 93, 188, 256, 
 260 
 
 Library, Travelling, ii. 247 
 License to Preach, i, 105 
 Lichfield, ii. 121 
 
 Lichfield, Meeting at, i. 215 
 
 Life, Principle of, ii. 282 
 
 Life, Seasons of, ii. 247 
 
 Light, False, i. 13, 14, 15 
 
 Linen Trade, i. 61 
 
 Lincoln Castle, ii. 162 
 
 Literary Meanness, i. 245 
 
 Literature, Sacred. Succession of, i. 328 
 
 Little Things, i. 155 
 
 Liturgy, i. 302 
 
 Liverpool, i. 182, 205, 214, 266, 344, ii. 
 277 
 
 Lloyd, S., i. 84 
 
 Lloyd’s Evening Post,” i. 138 
 Lochart, ii. 237 
 Locke, J., i. 138, ii. 65 
 Lodgings, Inferior, i. 92, 97, 206 
 Logic of Kings, i. 365 
 London, i. 97, 217, 221, 271, 307, 308, 
 ii. 181, 185 
 
 London, Centre of Missionary Opera- 
 tions, ii. 218, 219 
 London Institution, ii. 182 
 London, Tower of, ii. 64, 98 
 Longinus, ii. 168 
 Loriman, Miss, ii. 276 
 Lough Neah, i. 4 
 Louis XIV., i. 365 
 Loutit, James, i. 364, ii. 226 
 Love of God, i. 220 
 Love-feast, i. 221, 241 
 Loyalty, i. 117, 223, 224, ii. 159 
 Ludicrous, Perception of the, i. 9S 
 Ludicrous Scene, i. 286 
 Luddolph’s Lexicon, ii. 214 
 Lust, Meaning of, ii. 80, 81 
 Luther, i. 79, 118. 323 
 Lynch, Mr., ii. 128 
 Lynx, J., ii. 206 
 Lyttelton, Lord, ii. 7 
 
 M 
 
 Maccabees, ii. 204 
 
 Macedonian Empire, ii. 26, 27 
 
 Macintosh, Sir J., i. 355 
 
 Mackey, Alexander, ii. 156 
 
 Madden, Mr., i. 165 
 
 Madrid, ii. 219 
 
 Magazine, Evangelical, i. 170 
 
 Magazine, Methodist, i. 221, 226, 227" 
 
 Maghera, i. 8, 9, ii 40. 41, 156, 177 
 
 Magherafelt, ii. 40, 156 
 
 Magic, &c.. Works on, i. 38, 39 
 
 Magistrate, Power of, i. 333 
 
 Magna Charta, i. 354, 355 
 
 Magnetism, Animal, i. 143 
 
 Mahogany, ii. 185 
 
 Mahomedans, ii. 187, 214 
 
 Maitland, i. 359 
 
 Man, The Chief End of, ii. 253- 
 
INDEX. 
 
 SSO 
 
 Manchester, i. 191, 192, 193, 200, 201, 
 202, 214, 276, 303, ii. 219 
 Manchester, Methodism in, ii. 162 
 Mangey, Dr., ii. 73 
 Mangotsfield, i. 71 
 Manner, Pulpit, ii. 61 — 53 
 Manner, Suitable, i. 306, 307, 317 
 Manners, Good, ii. 8 
 Mansell, Contree, i. 116 
 Mant, Dr., ii. 244 
 Manton, ii. 215 
 
 Manuscripts, i. 246, 319, 326, ii. 65, 66, 
 93, 177, 183, 202, 215, 252, 262 
 Manuscripts, Ancient, i. 177, 214, 229, 
 237 
 
 Marbles, Playing at, i. 185 
 
 Maria Mail Boat, ii. 206 
 
 Marlborough, Duchess of, ii. 172 
 
 Marriage of A. and M. Clarke, i. 115 
 
 Marriage Celebration, ii. 199 
 
 Marriott, T., i. Preface xi., 80, 200 
 
 Marriott, W., ii. 70, 92 
 
 Marrow of Modern Divinity, i. 341 
 
 Marsden, Eev. G., ii. 169 
 
 Marsh, i. 150 
 
 Marsh, Herbert, ii. 234 
 
 Marshall, Eev. J., ii. 17 
 
 Martin, i. 226 
 
 Martin, Mr., i. 239, 321 
 
 Marvell, i. 249 
 
 Marvellous, Touch of the, i. 16 
 Mary Queen of Scots, i. 356 
 Mary’s, St., i. 128 
 Mason, Dr., ii. 202, 203 
 Mason, J., senior, i. 151 
 Mason, J., i. 151, 224 
 Masoretic Pronunciation, i. 361 
 Master and Teacher, i. 9 
 Masters, ii. 173 
 
 Mather, Alexander, i. 175, 215, 217, 
 285, 365, ii. 117 
 Matlock, ii. 161 
 Matthew v. 7 : i. 227 
 Mattaire, ii. 234 
 Maurice, Eev. T., ii. 167 
 Maury, Abbe, ii. 5, 7 
 Mayne, C., ii. 156, 160 
 Mayne, Judge, ii. 156, 161 
 Maynooth, i. 357, 358 
 McAlder, Eev., i. 20 
 McAllum, Dr., ii. 170 
 McGill, ii. 177 
 
 McIntosh, Sir James, i. 138, 355 
 McKenny, J., i. 65, ii. 128 
 McLean, J., i. 5 
 McNab, i. 85, 86, 88 
 MoNicoll, D., i. 54, 206, 314, 332; ii. 2, 
 11, 83 
 
 Meara’s, Barry 0., Voice, &c.’’ ii. 169 
 Measles, i. 183 
 Measure, Short, i. 63, 64 
 Medical Knowledge, i, 174 
 
 Medicine, ii. 68 
 Meekness, ii. 220 
 Melchizedekians, i. 85 
 Memory, i. 54, ii. 83 
 Menander, ii. 72 
 Menensko’s ‘‘ Thesairus,” i. 199 
 Menow, General, i. 272 
 Menu, Institutes of, i. 238 
 Mercy of God, i. 220 
 Mercies, ii. 2 
 Mesmer, Dr., i. 144 
 Mesmerism, i. 143 
 
 Metals, Transmutations of, i. 195, 197 
 Meteorology, i. 43 
 
 Methodism and Church of England, i. 
 
 83, 87 
 
 Methodism as It Is,” i. Preface xiv. 
 Methodism, Character of, i. 207, 294 
 Methodism, Decline of, ii. 273 
 Methodism in Ireland, i. 54 
 Methodism, Object of, i. 288, 293, 294 
 Methodism, Original, ii. 217 
 Methodism, Eeview of, ii. 116, 120 
 Michaelis, i. 177 
 Middleton, i. 295 
 Middleton, J., ii. 23 
 Millbrook, ii. 92, 93, 98, 129, 165, 169, 
 
 171, 179, 181, 185, 188, 214 
 Millin, A. L., i. 274 
 Miller, J., ii. 174 
 Milton, i. 212, 341 
 Mind, Dr. Clarke’s, i. 320 
 Minerals, ii. 157, 175, 195, 262 
 Ministerial Changes, i. 265 
 Ministerial Character, i. 149, 151 
 Ministerial Labour, i. 59, 60, 135, 136, 
 
 150, 247 
 
 Ministerial Success, i». 273 
 Ministers, Young, i. 129 
 Ministry, i. 197 
 Mishap, ii. 204 
 
 Mission, East Indian, ii. 103, 150 
 Mission, French, ii. 103 
 Missionaries, Loss of, ii. 206 
 Missionary Operations, Centre of, ii. 218 
 Missionaries, Eoyal, ii. 6 
 Missionary Meetings and Societies, ii. 
 
 74, 78, 115, 116, 166 
 Mistresses, ii. 173 
 Mitchell, Andrew, i. 362 
 Mitchell, G., i. 100 
 “ Mitre, The,” a poem, i. 87 
 Modesty, i. 368 
 Mohamedan, A, ii. 122 
 Monasteries, Suppression of, i. 356 
 Monasticon, The, ii. 66 
 Monat, Mr., ii. 232 
 Money, i. 349, 350 
 Money, The Eoot of Evil, ii. 200 
 Monkey, A., ii. 11 
 Montanus’s Hebrew Bible, ii. 186 
 Montfort, Dr., i. 355 
 
INDEX. 
 
 331 
 
 Montfortu Codex,” i. 177, ii. 38 
 Mootgomery, J., i. 311, 369, ii. 60, 61, 
 180, 249, 250, 275 
 
 Moore, H., i. 58, 61, 63, 64, 68, 73, 166, 
 167, ii. 143, 163, 184, 190, 210 
 Moore, Mr., i. 211, 215, 227, 330 
 Moortields, i. 98 
 Moral Greatness, i. 106 
 Moravian Establishment, ii. 42, 249 
 Moreland, Henry, Earl of, i. 252 
 ^‘Morning Post,” i. 138 
 Morning Preaching, i. 135 
 Morriss, Eev., ii. 35, 202 
 Morrison, Dr., ii. 203 
 Mortars, Inscription on, i. 365 
 Mortimer, Mr. and Mrs., i. 210, 258, 
 306 
 
 Mothers, ii. 44 
 
 Moybeg, i. 2 
 
 Moyses, Rev., ii. 187 
 
 Mull, Isle of, i. 5, 6 ; ii. 208 
 
 Mullihicall, i. 57, 60 
 
 Munster, Boyce, ii. 42 
 
 Munster’s “ Sebastian,” ii. 32 
 
 Murlin, J., i. 285 
 
 Museum, ii. 261, 262 
 
 Museum, British, i. 358, 359 ; ii. 73 
 
 Music, i. 48 
 
 Music, Instrumental, ii. 15 
 Myles, W., i. 63, 65 ; ii. 157 
 
 N 
 
 Nacash, ii. 11, 27 
 “ Namby Pamby,” ii. 81 
 Names, ii. 281 
 
 Names, What Implied in, i. 333 
 Napoleon, ii. 169 
 Napoleon, Life of, ii. 237 
 Narwell, ii. 123 
 
 National Character, ii. 207, 209, 226 
 Native Place,, ii. 245 
 Need, Conviction of, i. 137 
 Negro Boy, ii. 90 
 Negro Boy and Girl, ii. 196 
 Nelson, J., i. 385 
 Nelson. Rev., ii. 161 
 Nests, Birds’, i. 367 
 Nethenim, ii. 265 
 New Buildings, i. 68 
 New Creatures, ii. 14 
 Newcome, Dr., ii. 2 
 Newspapers, ii. 108 
 Newton, Ards, ii. 276 
 Newton. Rev. John, ii. 243 
 Nicene Church, ii. 22 
 Nicholl, Sir J., ii. 37 
 Nichols, Bowyer, ii. 172 
 Nichols, Colonel, ii. 282 
 Norman Isles, i. 108, 109, 130, 154, 161, 
 253, 342, 363 ; ii. 9, 205 
 
 Norton, N., i. 85 
 Nortwick, ii. 230 
 Norwich, i. 91, 93, 95, 97, 99 
 Nostalgia, ii. 241 
 Notes, Taking, i. 213 ; ii. 106 
 Nothing,” A Poem on, i. 368 
 Novelists, ii. 236 
 Novels, Waverley, ii. 209 
 Nubia, Discoveries in, ii. 153 
 
 0 
 
 Obedience, i. 287 
 Obliging Disposition, i. 313 
 Observer, Christian, ii. 26 
 Offering. Weekly, i. 57 
 Official Situations, ii. 13 
 Officiousness, ii. 8 
 Oglethorpe, General, ii. 184 
 Oldham Street Chapel, i. 281 
 O’Neil, Captain, ii. 42 
 O’Neills, The, i. 17, 21, 23, 45, 52 
 Orange, Prince of, i. 32 
 Order, ii. 93, 191 
 Order, Attention to, i. 176 
 Organs in Chapels, ii. 53, 179 
 Oriental Customs, i. 360 
 Originals and Copies, Difference be- 
 tween, ii. 188 
 Orkneys, ii. 170 
 Ornaments in Chapels, ii. 126 
 Orrery, The, i. 361- 
 Ossa Skerry, ii. 231 
 Ostervald, Mr., i. 320, 321 
 Ottley, Sir Richard, ii. 131 
 Overbury, Sir T., i. 368 
 Ovid, i. 296 
 
 Owen, Rev. J., i. 309, 324, 343 ; ii. 90, 
 171 » > , 
 
 Oxford, ii. 64, 65, 123, 168 
 
 P 
 
 Paine, T., i. 232 
 
 Paine’s “ Rights of Man,” ii. 257 
 
 Paintings, Ancient, ii. 153, 154 
 
 Papa Stour, ii. 230, 231 
 
 Papers, ii. 165 
 
 Papers, State, i. 349, 354 
 
 Papers, Wesley Family, i. 210, 211 
 
 Papists, ii. 100 
 
 Parade, Dislike of, ii. 85 
 
 Parallel, i. 249 
 
 Paralysis, ii. 244 
 
 Pardon, i. 289 
 
 Parental Authority, i. 68, 69, 73 
 Parental Neglect, ii. 245 
 Paris, ii. 218 
 Park, Mungo, i. 324 
 Parken, Daniel, i. 311, 368 
 
332 INDEX. 
 
 Parker, Archbishop, i. 358 ; ii. 94 
 Parkin, J., i. 97 
 Parkhurst, ii. 94 
 Parr, Catharine, i. 327 
 Parr, Dr., ii. 167, 169 
 Parson, Hunting, i. 102 
 Parsons, Pev. J., ii. 80 
 Partridge, i. 227 
 Party Men and Measures, i. 345 
 Party Spirit, i. 223 
 Pasham’s Bible, i. 251, 252 
 Pastimes, Juvenile, i. 45 
 Pastoral Visitation, i. 144 
 Patoe’s Hymn Book, ii. 150 
 Paul, St., Life of, ii. 70 
 Paul, St., Literary Character of, ii. 70, 
 72 
 
 Pauli, Dr., i. 173 
 Pavement, Prenestine, i. 361 
 Pawson, J., ii. 60, 163, 164 
 Pawson, Mr. and Mrs., i. 161, 205, 210, 
 211, 212, 214, 217, 224, 229, 230 
 Payne, Bev. T., i. 233 
 Peace, i. 96 
 Peace, Love of, i. 336 
 Pearson, Mr., i. 271 
 Pedan. Alex., i. 210 
 Peel, Sir K, i. 192 
 Peir’s Ploughman,’’ i. 34 
 Penitents, i. 220 
 Pensford, i. 71, 150 ; ii. 198 
 Pentland Hills, ii. 174 
 Peppysian Library, ii. 63 
 Percival, Hon. S., ii. 62, 118 
 Percival, Dr., i. 275 
 Percival, Spencer, i. 105 
 Perfection, Christian, ii. 17, 18, 223 
 Perophilus, i. 196 
 Perron, M. A. du, i. 237, 284 
 Perronet, E. and C., i. 84, 85, 87 
 Persian Inscriptions, i. 242 
 Persian Language, ii. 193 
 Persian Manuscripts ii. 66, 177, 182 
 Persecution, i. 99, 104, 105, 112, 126 ; 
 ii. 276 
 
 Persic, ii. 197 
 2 Peter i. 4 : ii. 80 
 Petition, Irish, i. 181 
 Pettigrew. Mr., ii. 165, 167, 186, 196, 
 202, 238 
 
 Philadelphian Medical Museum, i. 284 
 Philips, Bookseller, i. 245 
 Phillips, Dr. W., ii. 284, 285 
 Phillips, John. ii. 140 
 Philological Societv, i. 270, 277, 281, 
 ^ 282 
 
 Philological Society, Rules of. Appen- 
 dix, No. 1 
 Philosophy, i. 223 
 Philosophy, Natural, ii. 225 
 Philpots, Dr., i. 89 
 Piety, i. 55, 56 
 
 Piety and Religion, i. 323 
 
 Piety, Early, i. 339 
 
 Pig, Roast, ii. 121 
 
 “ Pilgrim’s Progress,” i. 331, 332 
 
 Pilter, Robt., ii 81 
 
 Pindar, Peter, ii. 211 
 
 Pine Apple, ii. 221 
 
 Pinner, ii. 190 
 
 Pioneer, The, ii. 222 
 
 Pipe, J.,i. 277 
 
 Pitt. Hon. W., i. 236 ; ii. 67 
 
 Pitt Street, i. 206 
 
 Pittacu^ i. 90 
 
 Place, Change of, ii. 241 
 
 Plainness, ii. 53 
 
 Plaisair, Mont, i. 116 
 
 Plato, ii. 72 
 
 Platonic Bodies, i. 275 
 
 Playfair, Professor, i. 138 
 
 Plays, Juvenile, i. 45 
 
 Plutarch, ii. 72 
 
 Plymouth Dock, i. 73, 103, 108, 135, 
 152, 279, 281, 287 
 Pocock, Dr., ii. 214 
 Poems, Ancient, i. 67 
 Poetic Faculty, i. 31 
 Poetry, i. 28, 36 ; ii. 151. 215 
 Poetry, Doggrei, i. 76, 78 
 Poetry, Lyric, i. 29 
 Poetry, Old English, i. 28, 34 ; ii. 183 
 Poets, Eastern, ii. 26 
 Polemics, i. 95, 96 
 Police, The, ii. 197 
 Pollio, ii. 19 
 Politics, i. 335 
 
 Polyglott Bible, Persic, i. 243, 275, 301, 
 313 
 
 Polyglott Bibles, Account of, ii. 29, 
 32, 33, 151, 165, 184 
 Polyglott, Complutensian, ii. 186, 224 
 Polyglott, Walton’s, i. 180 
 Polyglotts, ii. 187, 201 
 Poole, J., i. 74, 75, 76, 112 
 Poor, The, ii. 123, 241, 247 
 Poor, Attention to, ii. 135 
 Poor, Kindness to, i. 94 
 Poor, Neglected, i. 117 
 Pope, Alexander, ii. 63 
 Pope, Mr., ii. 172 
 Pope, A., i. 135, 333 
 Pope’s Toe, The, ii. 7 
 Popish Church and Priests, i. 355 
 Popish Cruelty, i. 207 
 Popularity, i. 89, 100, 203, 205 
 Porson, Professor, i. 256, 348 
 ‘‘Post Angel,” ii. 183 
 Portadown, ii. 40 
 Port, Isaac, i. 100, 134 
 Portrait Painting, i. 140, 141, 202 
 Post Stuart, i. 49, 69, 98 ; ii. 155, 246 
 Poverty, ii. 109 
 Power, i. 331, 350 
 
INDEX. 
 
 333 
 
 Praise, Self, ii. 69 
 Pratt, Kev. J., ii. 31, 224 
 Prayer, ii. 191 
 Prayer, Answer to, i. 93 
 Prayer Meetings, i. 60, 143, 221, 157, 
 159, 240 
 
 Prayer, Prevalence of, ii. 169, 205 
 Prayer, Sitting and Kneeling at, ii. 58 
 Prayer Valued, ii. 203 ^ 
 
 Preacher, Letter to a, i. 79, 80 
 Preacher, Young, i. 59, 67, 68, 89 
 Preachers, Early, i. 314 
 Preachers, Education of, i. 314, 317 
 Preachers, Local, ii. 60, 133 
 Preachers, Old, i. 284, 365 
 Preaching, i. 150, 193 ; ii. 44, 50, 53, 
 83, 102, 115, 160, 166, 173, 192, 
 199, 201, 211, 218, 222, 257, 273, 
 284, 287 ^ 
 
 Preaching, Field, i. 135 
 Preaching Place, i. 292 
 Preaching, Remarks on, i. 79, 81, 83, 
 121,^200, 218, 219, 222, 224, 235, 
 266, 286, 288, 293, 323, 334, 350 
 Precedents, ii. 269 
 Precipitancy, i. 86 
 Prejudice, i. 57 ; ii. 170 
 Premonition, ii. 281 
 Prepossessions, Early, i. 237 
 Presbyterians, i. 7, 19, 20 ; ii. 39 
 Present, A, ii. 239 
 
 President, Election of, ii. 73, 169, 181 
 Presidents of Conference, i. 313 
 Press-gang, i. 338 
 Pretender, The, i. 365 
 Prideaux’s Connection, i. 70 
 Priestley, Dr., ii. 165 
 Prince Regent, ii. 74 
 Prior, W., i. 85 
 Processions, Ancient, ii. 154 
 Promises, Scripture, i. 220 
 Prophet, Christian, and his Work, i. 
 256 
 
 Prosperity, ii. 35 
 Proverb, A, ii. 221 
 Proverbs, i. 8 
 
 Providence, i. 119, 163, 210, 342 : ii. 
 
 10, 82, 207, 217, 224 
 Providential Care, ii. 180, 181 
 Prudence, i. 258 ; ii. 206 
 Psalm XXX., 7 : i. 241, 242 
 Psalm, xci. : ii. 281 
 Psalms, Book of, ii. 251 
 Psalms, The, ii. 224 
 Psalms, Versitications of, i. 35, 36 
 Psyche,” i. 173 
 Public Character, i. 305, 309 
 Public House, i. 186 
 Pudsey, Bishop, ii. 65 
 Pulpit, i. 292 
 Pulpit Material, i. 151 
 Pulpit, A Novel, ii. 210 
 
 Punctuality, i. 103, 308 
 Purgatory, i. 45, 46, 363 
 Puritans, i. 288 
 Purity of Heart, i. 290 
 Purity of Motive, i. 273 
 Purple Island,” i. 251 
 Puseyism, i. 347 
 Pyramids, Discoveries in, ii. 153 
 Pythagorian Numbers, i. 275 
 
 Q 
 
 Quaker and Parson, i. 102 
 Quality, Fool of, i. 42 
 Quarterly Meeting, i. 65 
 Queen St. Chapel, ii. 165 
 Queteville, De, Mr., i. 118, 121, 122, 
 124, 127, 128, 180 
 Quixote, Don, i. 41 
 
 R 
 
 Rabelais,” ii. 257 
 Raby, J., ii. 170 
 Rodha, ii. 26 
 Radicalism, ii. 149 
 Raffles, Dr., ii. 107 
 Rainbow, The, ii. 229 
 Ramsay, Allan, ii. 174, 176 
 Ram’s Horns, ii. 60 
 Ramna’s Stacks, ii. 2301 
 Rankin, T., i. 71, 81, 141, 227 
 Raphael’s Cartoons, i. 141 
 Raphalius, ii. 70 
 Rapin, i. 323 
 Rarities, ii. 196 
 Rawlinson, Dr., ii. 65 
 Razors, ii. 104 
 Read, W., ii. 228 
 Reading, i. 212, 213, 340 ; ii. 269 
 Reading Sermons, i. 20 
 Reason, i. 142 
 
 Reason, Remarks on, ii. 95, 96, 97 
 Recognition of Saints in Heaven, ii. 4 
 Records, Ancient, ii. 63, 65 
 Records, Public, i. 321, 356, 358, 367, 
 369 
 
 Reece, R., i. 216, 227 
 Reform Bill, ii. 273 
 
 Reform, Methodist, ii.. Appendix, No. 3 
 Reformation, i. 362 
 Regium Donum, ii. 177 
 Rehearsals, Correct, i. 363 
 Relaxation of Mind, i. 367 
 Religion and Piety, i. 323 
 Religion, Nominal, ii. 145, 146 
 Removals, i. 276 
 
 Removal Contemplated, ii. 241, 242 
 Repetition, i. 334 
 Reprobation, i. 365 
 
334 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Eeproof, i. 54, 63 
 Kescriptus Codex, ii. 38 
 Resentment, Non, i. 333 
 Resignation, i. 273, 302 
 Restoration, Universal, i. 340 
 Resurrection, Drew on the, i. 369 
 Retaliation, i. 367 
 Retford, ii. 161 
 
 Retirement from Public Life, ii. 89, 92 
 Reviews, i. 312 
 
 Revival, i. 127, 128, 216, 219, 221 ; ii. 
 199 
 
 Ribbonmen, ii. 177 
 Rich Men Necessary, ii. 242 
 Rich, The Lazy, i. 149 
 Richardson, ii. 236 
 
 Richardson’s Arabic Grammar, ii. 187 
 Richelieu, Cardinal, i. 185 
 ii- 227 
 
 Righteousness, i. 289 ; ii. 45 
 Rights, Civil, ii. 74 
 Ripon, E., i. 91 
 Rising, Early, ii. 135, 195 
 Ritchie, Miss, i. 134, 161 
 Ritson, Jos., i. 34 
 Roberts, Robert, ii. 17, 60 
 Roberts, T., ii. 271, 283 
 Robinson, Dr., i. 358 
 Robinson, Mark, ii. 235 
 Robson, Professor, i. 139 
 Rochester, Earl of, ii. 2 
 Rodda, R., i. 187 
 Rodgers, i. 215 
 
 Roman Catholics, i. 332 ; ih 204, 239 
 Roman Catholic Priest, Conversion of a, 
 ii. 192 
 
 Romance, Satire on, ii. 12 
 
 Romances, Effects of Reading,, i; 15 
 
 Romans xiii. 1 : ii. 105 
 
 Romaic e. Rev. W., i. 85, 186 
 
 Rome, Church of, i. 356 
 
 Rona’s Hi]l, ii. 230 
 
 Round Towers, ii. 42 
 
 Rowley, Alex, i. 362 
 
 Rowley, Mr. and Mrs., i. Preface^ xii. 
 
 110; ii. 86, 201,278, 283 
 Row Ram Mohun, ii. 273 
 Runnymede, i. 355 
 Rutherford, T., i. 58, 61, 157 
 Ryland, Dr., i. 243 
 
 Rymer’s Foedera, i. 349, 351, 354, 359, 
 
 S 
 
 Sacrament, Administration of, i. 19 
 Sailors, ii. 102 
 
 Sailors, British, i. 155, 253, 254 
 Salaries of Public Men, i. 351 
 Salary and Work, p. 207 
 Salford, ii. 152 
 
 Sanctification, i. 127, 128, 153, 290, 291 
 
 Sanscrit, i. 272 
 Saumery, Mrs., i. 125, 128 
 Saxon Language, ii. 172 
 Scalloway, ii. 210 
 Scambatio, ii. 232 
 Scepticism, i. 170 
 Schools, ii. 193 
 
 Schools, Irish, ii. 82, 193, 262, 276, 277, 
 278, 279, 288, 
 
 Schools, Sunday, ii. 82, 133, 134 
 School Boys’ Sports, i. 45 
 Scipio’s Buckler, i. 274 
 Scotch Character, ii. 226 
 Scott, Sir Walter, ii. 176, 190, 205, 209, 
 236, 237 
 
 Scott, Rev. T., ii. 26 
 
 Scott, M., Esq., i. 92 
 
 Scott, R., Esq., i. 71 ; ii. 170, 271 
 
 Scott, Mr., ii. 231 
 
 Scriptures, The Holy, ii. 21, 22, 27, 29, 
 58 
 
 Scriptures, Exposition of, i. 208, 219, 
 Scriptures, Illustrations of, i. 241, 361, 
 Scriptures, Perversion of, i. 365 
 Scriptures, Reading the, i. 340 ; ii.. 
 269 
 
 Scriptures, Standing to Read the, ii.. 
 192 
 
 Scriptures, Withholding the, ii. 165 
 Scriptural Preaching, ii. 166 
 Sea, The, ii. 246 
 Sea, Why so much ? ii. 9 
 Seals, i. 254 
 Seals, Official, i. 357 
 Search, Fruitless, i. 13 
 Secrets, Conference, i. 181 
 Seeker, Archbishop, ii. 162 
 Selby, J., i. 201, 291, 292 
 Selden, ii. 38, 107 
 Sellon, Rev. W., i. 84, 303 
 Seneca, i. 147 ; ii. 211 
 Separation from Church of England, i. 
 84, 85 
 
 Septuagint, i. 213 ; ii. 26, 27, 179 
 Sepulture, Places of, i. 231 
 Sermons, Dr. A. Clarke’s, ii. 285, 239,. 
 257 
 
 Sermon, The First, i. 67 
 Sermons, Funeral, ii. 92 
 Sermons, Long, ii. 58 
 Sermons, Long and Short, i. 208 
 Sermons, Occasional, ii. 180, 185, 200, 
 222 
 
 Sermons, Pirating, ii. 107 
 Sermons, Trial and Occasional, ii. 82 
 Sermons, Written and Preached, ii. 46 
 Serpent, The, ii. 28 
 Servants, i. 266, 267 ; ii. 173 
 Severity, Bad Effects of, i. 10 
 Sewell, J., i. 92 
 Sexes, Battle of, i. 250 
 Shah-namah, i. 256 
 
INDEX. 
 
 335 
 
 Shakespeare, i. 330 
 Shakespeare, Professor, ii. 31 
 Shannon, Earl of, ii. 178 
 Sharpe, Archbishop, ii. 73, 117, 184 
 Sharpe, Granville, i. 185, 308; ii. 73 
 Sharpe, Miss, ii. 184 
 Shaving, ii. 104 
 Shaw, Dr., i. 361 
 
 Sheffield, i. 86 ; ii. 44, 45, 179, 274 
 Sheffield Methodism, ii. 162, 163 
 Shekels, ii. 215 
 Shells, ii. 195 
 Shepherd, Miss, ii. 35, 36 
 Shepherd, Gentle, ii. 174, 175 
 Sherwood Forest, ii. 161 
 Shetland Isles, ii. 170, 173, 182, 187, 
 188, 189, 202, 204-206, 210, 213, 
 215, 222-226, 228, 230, 238, 240, 
 252, 275, 276, 278, 279, 283 
 Shoeblack, i. 267 
 Shoemaker, i. 101 
 
 Shuckford’s Connection, L 329, 360 
 
 Sick, Visitation of, i. 144, 268 
 
 Sidney, i. 147 
 
 Sidmouth, Lord, i. 105 
 
 Sidmouth’s, Lord, Bill, ii. 61, 150, 160 
 
 Sierra Leone, ii. 90 
 
 Sierra Leone Company, i. 324 
 
 Sight Failing, ii, 195, 197 
 
 Sigourney, Mrs., ii. 252 
 
 Silence, i. 369 
 
 Simplicity, i. 366 ; ii. 34 
 
 Simplicity, Want of, i. 320 
 
 Simpson, J., i. 93 
 
 Sin, i. 219 
 
 Sin and Sorrow, ii. 105 
 Sin, Leprosy of, ii. 151 
 Sin, Original, ii. 151 
 Sin, Root of, i. 287 
 Sins, Beloved, ii. 55 
 Sincerity, i. 273 
 Sinecures, i. 360 
 Singing, i. 46, 47 ; ii. 14, 15 
 Singers, ii. 125 
 Singers, Choirs of, i. 279, 280 
 Sitting at Prayer, ii. 58 
 Skibbereen, ii. 178 
 
 Slave Trade, i. 119, 188, 336 ; ii. 74, 
 194 
 
 Sloke, i. 49 
 Small Pox, i. 8 
 Smith, Adam, ii. 205 
 Smith, John, ii. 162, 228 
 Smith, Dr. Pye, i. 255 
 Smith, Rev., i. 18 
 Smith, Sydney, i. 272 
 Smith, Rev. T., ii. 218, 270 
 Smith, Mrs. Rd., ii. 283, 285 
 Smith, W., i. 160; ii. 281 
 Smoking, ii. 125 
 Smollett, i. 321 
 Smyth, Rev. E., i. 85, 86, .88 
 
 Snake, ii. 28 
 Snow-Storm, i. 187 
 Snuff, ii. 195 
 Sociability, i. 259, 285 
 Socinians, i. 346 • 
 
 Socinianism, i. 205, 213 
 
 Solitude, ii. 185 
 
 Solomon’s Song, ii. 25, 26 
 
 Somerset House, i. 327 
 
 Songs, Ancient, i. 46 — 48 
 
 Songs, Old, i. 19 
 
 Sonship, Eternal, ii. .110, 112 
 
 Southampton, i. 116, 119, 131 ; ii. 205 
 
 Southey, R., i. 148, 149, 166, 172; ii. 
 
 142, 144, 147, 273 
 Sparrows, i. 367 
 Speaking, Evil, ii. 96 
 Speare, R., ii. 31, 224 
 Speech, Softness 'of, ii. 1 
 Spencer, E., i. 34, 250, 251, 331 ; iL 
 20, 63 
 
 Spirit, Witness of the, i. 291, 340' ; ii. 
 162 
 
 Spitzbergen, ii. 230 
 Sponsors, i. 6 ; ii. 41 
 Sprats, ii. 185 
 Squance, Mr., ii. 128 
 Stanley, T., i. 284, 802; ii. 147 
 State Papers, i. 349, 354 
 Stations, Conference, i. 203, 207, 250 
 Stedman, Rev. T., i. 302; ii. 147 
 Steinkopff, Dr., L 308 
 Stephens, J., ii. 234 
 Sternhold and Hopkins, i. 36 
 Stevens, Dr. Abel, i.. Preface xiii., 177,. 
 178 
 
 Stewart, Dugald, i. 138 
 Stock, Mr., i. 259, 300, 312 
 Stockport, i. 291 ; ii. ^4 
 Stone, Inscription on, i. 241, 272 
 Storey, G., i. 227, 247, 313 ; ii. .145 
 Storm, ii. 171, 208, 245 
 Storm at Sea, i. 119, 123 
 Storry, J., ii. 283 
 Strachan, Alex. , ii. 93, 190, 191 
 Stranger’s Friend Society, i. 173, 189; 
 191 
 
 Stuart, i. 146 
 Students, ii. 235 
 Studies, i. 258 
 Study, A, i. 276; ii, 191 
 Stultzgard, ii. 201 
 Stupidity, i. 292 
 
 Sturm’s Philosaphical Reflections,”!. 
 248, 249 ; ii. 57, 58 
 Styles, Dr., i. 369 
 Sublime, The, ii, 168 
 Submission, Divine, i. 182, 302 
 Subscription, Soliciting, iL 25 
 Success, Ministerial, i. 109, 119, 121, 
 122, 126, 127, 129, 134, 204, 208, 
 220, 234 ; ii. 273 
 
836 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Sudoxes, i. 196 
 Sugar, Self-denial in, i. 188 
 Sulpiceus’, St., Church, ii. 5 
 Summerhill, Dame, i. 144, 146 
 Sunday Travelling, i.- 94 
 Sundys, John, ii. 255 
 Sundys, Mr., ii. 224 
 Sunset, ii. 228, 229 
 Supernumeracy, ii. 265, 269 
 Superstition, i. 254 
 
 Supper, Lord’s, i. 200, 214, 361, 362; 
 
 ii. 115, 118, 119, 157, 158 
 Surrey Institution, i.- 345, 347 
 Sussex, Duke of, ii. 31, 165 — 168, 171, 
 186, 196, 197, 202, 217, 221, 237, 
 238, 272, 273 
 Swallows, i. 367 
 Swift, Dean, i. 363 ; ii. 81 
 Swine’s Flesh, i. 237 ii. 121 
 Swords, ii. 42, 174 
 Sycamore Tree, ii. 161 
 Sjunpathy, i. 95, 117 ; ii. 68, 181 
 Syrian Kingdom, ii. 26 
 
 T 
 
 Table Talk, ii. 107 
 
 Tact, ii. 137, 204 
 
 Talented, ii. 7 
 
 Tarsus, ii. 71 
 
 Tartar, New Test, i. 324 
 
 Taste, Allison on, i. 18 
 
 Taxes, ii. 148 
 
 Taylor, H., ii. 81 
 
 Taylor, Jos., i. 175 
 
 Taylor, T., i. 215 
 
 Taylor, the Infidel, ii. 150 
 
 Taylor’s Ancient Christianity, ii. 22 
 
 Taylor’s, Dr., Key to Epistle to 
 
 Romans, ii. 86, 90 
 Tea-drinking, i. 48, 188, 189 
 Teacher and Teaching, i. 50 
 Teignmouth, Lord, i. 308, 311, 312; ii. 
 
 25, 31 
 
 Temper, Hasty, i. 188 
 
 Terence, ii. 234 
 
 Terres, Les, i. 116, 123 
 
 Testament, Greek, i. 70, 197, 213, 301 
 
 Testimony, Noble, ii. 278 
 
 Teviot Dale Chapel, ii. 214 
 
 Texts, Accommodation, i. 334 
 
 Texts, Choice of, ii. 49, 54 
 
 Texts, Perverted, i. 79 
 
 Texts, Preaching on the same, ii. 46 
 
 Thalaba, ii. 13 
 
 Thanks at Meals, i. 202 
 
 Thanks, Votes of, i. 303 
 
 Theology, ii. 257 
 
 Theological Institution, i. 315 — 317 
 Thomas, Dr. J., i. 90 
 Thompson, J., i. 91 
 
 Thompson, T., ii. 62 
 Thompson, W., i. 215 
 Threlfal, ii. 206 
 Thule, Ultima,” ii. 245 
 Thurston, Mr., ii. 284 
 Thurvot, M., i. 3 
 Tickets, Class, i. 144, 185 
 Tickets, Visitation of, i. 140 
 Tighe, Mrs., i. 173, 174 
 Tillotson, i. 32 
 Time, Redeeming the, ii. 191 
 Time, What, ii. 240 
 Times, Troublous,” ii. 270 
 Times, Unpropitious, ii. 135, 137, 148, 
 270 
 
 Tinder Box, i. 75 
 Titles, Unmerited, i. 327 
 Toase, Mr., ii. 103 
 
 Tobacco, Use of, i. 17, 227, 304 ; ii. 
 75, 78, 125 
 
 Tobias, Mr., ii. 116, 158, 160 
 Toleration, ii. 62 
 Toleration Act, ii. 126 
 Tompkins, Mr., ii. 93 
 Tongs, Parlour, ii. 161 
 Tooth, Miss, ii. 270 
 Towers, Round, ii. 42, 244 
 Townley, Dr., ii. 264 
 Townsend, Dr. G., ii. 151 
 Tractarians, ii. 22 
 Tract Society, Religious, i. 233 
 Transfiguration, i. 239 
 Translators, i. 258- 
 Translations, i. 248, 258, 259, 318 
 Transmutation of Metals, i. 195, 197 
 Travel, Incident in, ii. 123 
 Traveller’s Prayer, ii. 122, 234 
 Travelling, i. 70, 89, 91, 97, 99, 161 
 Travelling Expenses, ii. 198 
 Treasure Found, i. 71 
 Treatment of Dr. Clarke, Appendix 
 No. 2 
 
 Trelawney, Sir H., i. 105 
 
 Trinity College, ii. 38 
 
 Trivial Things, i. 142 
 
 Trowbridge, i. 74, 90, 110, 131, 164 
 
 Truckling, Base, ii. 267 
 
 Truth, i. 210, 218, 293, 363 ; ii..287 
 
 Truth, Gospel, i. 107 
 
 Truth, Search After, ii. 20, 21, 34 
 
 Tumults, Chapel, ii. 180 
 
 Turkey, A Native of, ii. 122 
 
 Twentyman, Dr., i. 100 
 
 Twist, ii. 192 
 
 Tyreman, L., i. 144 
 
 Typography, ii. 105 
 
 U 
 
 Ulster, ii. 252 
 Ultima Thule,” ii. 245 
 Uniformity, Act of, i. 302, 305 ; ii. 215 
 
INDEX. 
 
 337 
 
 Unst, ii. 230 
 Unstj Scaw of, ii; 230 
 Usefulness, i. 102, 220, 253, 267, 305 ; 
 ii. 100 
 
 Usko, Rev., i. 325 
 Uvi, Dr., ii. 64, 65 
 
 V ■ 
 
 Vaccination, i. 282 
 Valpy, Mr., ii. 28 
 Valton, J., i. 200, 229 
 Vanderhagen Family, ii. 217, 
 Vansittart, Mr., ii. 151 
 Variorum Classics, i. 284 
 Vaughan, Dr., i. 107 
 Ve- Skerries, ii. 231 
 Venn, Rev., i. 85 
 Vidler, Mr., i. 340 
 Violence, Personal, i. 207 
 Virgil, ii. 18 
 Visiting Society, ii. 288 
 Visits to Churches, ii. 7 
 Visoclon, i. 246 
 Vitringa, ii. 3 
 Voice, ii. 53 
 
 Voltaire, i. 231, 360; ii. 221 
 
 W 
 
 Wage and Worky ii. 207 
 Wainwright, ii. 162, 164 
 Wales, ii. 251 
 Walsh, T., i. 84 
 Walker, Mrs., i. 125 
 Walking, i. 229 
 
 Wallis, Dr. J., on Twist,'* ii. 192, 
 193 
 
 Walls, ii. 210 
 Walton, D., ii. 125 
 Walton, Isaac, i. 26, 27 
 Walton’s Polyglott, i. 180 ; ii. 165 
 Waosleb, J. M., ii. 214 
 War, i. 197, 224, 336, 337 
 War, Continental, ii. 67 
 Warburton, Bishop, i. 138, 139, 212 
 Ward, J. E., ii. 143, 166 
 Ward, Mr., i. 131 
 Ware, Mrs., i. 110 
 Watch-cleaning, i. 102 
 Watchfulness, ii. 223 
 Watch-Night, i. 150, 153 
 Watson, R., i. 166, 167, 170, 198; ii. 
 146, 170, 212, 213, 214, 217, 227, 
 267 
 
 Watson, Thomas, i. 68 
 Watts, i. 340 
 Watts, Dr., ii. 250 
 Waugh, T., ii. 179 
 Waves, The, ii. 246 
 VOL. II. 
 
 Wtather, Signs and Prognostications 
 of, i. 43 
 
 Weeping, i. 285 
 Wellington, Duke of, ii. 239 
 Wesley, Bartholomew^ ii. 163 
 Wesley, C., i. 81, 88, 226-; ii. 16, 17, 
 64, 65, 222, 250 
 Wesley, C., Junioryi. 167 
 Wesley Family, i. 166, 211, 302; ii. 73, 
 161-^164, 169, 183, 184y 188,^ 190, 
 210, 270 
 
 Wesley, J., i. 70, 72, 75, 81, 86, 88, 90, 
 93, 94, 103, 104, 107, 108,114,118,- 
 120, 121, 123-126, 131, 134, 135, 
 137—139, 142, 143, 147, 149, 151, 
 153, 155, 160; 161, 165 ; ii. 6, 17, 
 60, 69,. 74, 83, 116, 117, 147, 148, 
 157, 162,, 163-165, 178, 184, 204, 
 210, 222 
 
 Wesley, J., Death and Character of, i. 
 165, 173, 175, 179, 182, 188, 189, 
 203, 216, 250; 251, 252, 309, 330, 
 331, 335, 343, 347> 348, 363 
 Wesley, J., Life of, ii. 141, 147 
 Wesley, Mrs. John, i. 169—171 
 Wesley, J., Vicar of Whitechurch, ii. 
 164 
 
 Wesley, Matthew, ii, 164 
 
 Wesley, Mrs., i. 142 
 
 Wesley, Samuel, Senior, i. 256; ii. 
 
 32, 33, 147, 164, 183, 184, 222 , 
 Wesley, S., Juniory i. 250 
 Wesley, Miss Sarah, i. 167, 210 
 Wesley Papers, ii. 222 
 .Wesleyan Magazine, i. 167 
 Westall, T., i. 334 
 Westbury, i. 149, 150; ii. 283 
 Weston, i. 312 
 Weston-super-Mare, ii. 283 
 Whatcoat, R., i. 91 
 Whim, i. 268 
 Whitby, ii. 227, 228 
 Whitehead, Dr., i. 144, 166, 191, 210, 
 ii. 163 
 
 Whitefriars’ Street Chapel, ii. 157 
 Whitfield, G., i. 75, 107 ; ii. 6 
 Whitaker, i. 312 
 Wick, i. 235 
 Wicliffe, ii. 27 
 Wife, Conduct of a, i. 96 
 Wigs, i. 201 
 Wilberforce, i, 336 
 Wild, J., ii. 223 
 Wildman, Colonel, ii. 167 
 Wilkins, C. H., i. 272 
 Wilkin’s, Dr, C., Arabic and Persian 
 Lexicon, ii. 187 
 Wilkins, Mr., i. 236, 312 
 Will, The, i. 364 
 William the Conqueror, i. 359 
 William III., King, i. 32 
 Williams, Dr., ii. 3l, 224 
 
 W 
 
338 
 
 INDEX, 
 
 Williams, Sir J., ii. 60, 61 
 
 Wills, ii. 143 
 
 Wiltshaw, Miss, i. 71 
 
 Winchester, Mr., i. 340 
 
 Winds, Contrary, ii. 205, 206 
 
 Windsor, ii. 217 
 
 Winebibbing, i. 157 
 
 Winscombe, Jasper, i. 131 
 
 Winter, Severe, i. 96, 161 ; ii. 102 
 
 Wirtemburg’s, Duke of. Library, i. 
 
 311 
 
 Wirtemburg, Queen Dowager of, ii. 221 
 
 Witchcraft, i. 247 
 
 Withers, G-., i. 34 
 
 Withred, King of Kent, i. 359 
 
 Wolsey, Cardinal, i. 327, 359 
 
 Women, Inferiority of, i. 270, 271 
 
 Women Speaking in Church, i. 132, 133 
 
 Wood, James, i. 280, 282 
 
 Wood, J., Esq., ii. 244 
 
 Woodfall, ii. 35 
 
 Woodlark, The, ii. 208 
 
 Woodward, Dr., ii. 199 
 
 Wool, Lambs’, ii. 210 
 
 Woolmer, S., i. 228 
 
 Worcester, ii. 277 
 
 Workman, Dr., i. 35 ; ii. 64 
 
 Worship, Benjamin, i. 93 
 
 Worship, Domestic, ii. 68 
 
 Worship in Church Hours, i. 2l0 
 
 Worship, Reverence in Place of, ii. 226 
 
 Worship, Public, ii. 58 
 
 Worshippers, Outward, i. 207 
 
 Wrangham, Archdeacon, ii. 31, 151, 
 
 201, 224 
 
 Wright, Mrs., ii. 164 
 Wrigley, F., i. 74, 77, 78, 97, 217 
 Writer, Ready, i. 331 
 Writing, Variety of, i. 359 
 
 Y 
 
 Yarmouth, i. 92, 93 
 
 Yell, South, ii. 231 
 
 York, J., ii. 212 
 
 Young, Dr., ii. 154 
 
 Young, Dr. E., ii. 16, 17 
 
 Young, Miss, i. 58 
 
 Young Ministers, i. 129, 362 
 
 Young’s '‘Night Thoughts,” i. 70 
 
 Youthful Promise, i. 50 
 
 Z 
 
 Zeal, Ardent, i. 58, 59, 63, 65 
 Zeal without Innovation, ii. 10 
 Zendavesta, i. 311 
 Zoroaster, i. 237 
 
 APPENDIX 
 
 No. 1. Rules of the Philological Society 
 No. 2. Disreputable Ministerial Treat- 
 ment of Dr. Clarke 
 
 No. 3. Disruption of 1849, in the Metho • 
 dist Body 
 
 THE END. 
 
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Handsomely bound in cloth, complete in Two Volumes, price Six Shillings, 
 
 ADAM CLARKE PORTRAYED. 
 
 BY THE 
 
 REV. JAMES EVERETT. 
 
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 The First Edition of this admirable Biography was published at 16s, 6d. 
 
 London : W. REED, UNITED METHODIST FREE CHURCHES’ BOOK ROOM, 
 15, CREED LANE, LUDGATE STREET, E.C. 
 
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 EXTRACTS FROM REVIEWS. 
 
 “ The * Village Blacksmith’ is altogether one of the most interesting volumes of its 
 kind, and the best written we have met with. No one can take it up without the 
 certainty of reaping instruction and delight. Mr. E. has exhibited the continued 
 sweetness and playfulness of beautiful imagery which distinguishes his prose, and in 
 every page tells us, in spite of himself, it is ‘ Prose by a Poet.’ Its peculiar feature 
 is graceful simplicity, with poetry oozing through every sentence. His arguments 
 are clear and forcible, expressed in language generally elegant ,* and we feel we are 
 perusing the pages not only of a man of genius, but of an ardent, active, and cheerful 
 Christian. And withal, there is a tone of delightful pleasantry, half concealed in the 
 writings of Mr. E., which is often placed under unnecessary restraint .” — Eclectic 
 Review, Oct., 1831. 
 
 The simplicity of Samuel Hick often bordered on the ridiculous, and it required 
 not only tenderness and experience, but the penetration and judgment of a master of 
 the human heart, to discriminate between them. The literary merits of this work are as 
 superior to the maudlin mass of religious memoirs, as the comet-coursed village black- 
 smith was unlike the amiable, but inanimate personages, of whom they bear witness. 
 We recommend the ‘ Village Blacksmith,* as likely to amuse, instruct, and edify — and 
 the volume as containing more pure, manly, and beautiful English, than is to be found 
 in any half-dozen modem novels. A poet’s prose, where it is not inflated, is the best 
 of all prose ; and in the work before us, Mr. Everett’s taste and judgment have fortu- 
 nately prevented him from falling into the common error ; and he has introduced 
 only as much imagination and metaphor as to elevate the subject, delight the reader, 
 and to throw over the whole the quiet and pure spirit of his own muse .” — The 
 Athenceum, Nov. 19, 1831. 
 
 An interesting Memoir was published a few months ago of the life of Samuel 
 Hick, late of Micklefleld, Yorkshire, the details of which are of so extraordinary 
 a. nature, that they appear more in the character of a romance than real life.” — 
 Mamchester Chronicle, July 30, 1831. 
 
 “ The volume now lying before us epitomises the life of a blacksmith, distinguished 
 
2 
 
 for his integrity and piety, and who has been very useful in his day and generation. It 
 is written in an easy, graceful style ; and it cannot fail to interest those whose hearts 
 can warm to the expressions of sincerity and benevolence, which breathe through 
 every page .” — Monthly Magazine, April, 1832. 
 
 “ Perhaps few men, besides Mr. Everett himself, could have constructedj had they 
 been so disposed, such a goodly fabric ; or, to change the metaphor, have produced 
 such a dish out of the materials ; for in the crudity of those very materials is to be 
 seen the skill of the artificer, — ^who makes light shine out of darkness, speaks confusion 
 into order, and throws a charm around what else had been repulsive to both sight and 
 taste. Yet amid innumerable disadvantages, there was one advantage in the subject 
 alone which the writer appears to have had prophecy of soul suificient to foresee 
 would arrest the attention of the reader, like the fiery brilliancy of a comet, exclusive 
 of its erratic course. With the exception of the Vulcan of the heathen, and the 
 Knot-tyer of Gretna-green, we know of no ‘ artificer in brass and iron,’ not even Tubal 
 Cain himself, the secrets of whose history would be more interesting than those of 
 ‘ The Village Blacksmith,’ and in the life of no one of them will be found such an 
 ‘instructor .’” — Imperial Magazine, April, 1832. 
 
 “ This is a singular little work, furnishing another very remarkable history of 
 human character acted upon by ideas of religion, which it were hard to characterise 
 as too enthusiastic when stamped by so much of charity and good works. We have 
 not for a long time seen a volume which we read with more curiosity and pleasure- 
 curiosity in following the development of the character of the natural and simple 
 man, in his rough, but honest and untutored, and often singularly correct views of 
 things, — and pleasure at that unwearied pursuit of good, which marked every moment 
 of his life. His dreams, his mental impressions, his self-denials* his sympathy for the 
 poor, his undaunted courage in respect to what he thought was right, his untutored 
 dialect, his firmness under persecution, and the quaintness of his manners, are all 
 delightful. One thing, however, must be noted by way of detracting from the subject 
 of the memoir, as the whole cause of our satisfaction in perusing it, and that is — the 
 excellence of the composition — the neatness and clearness of the writer’s style — and 
 the charming simplicity which prevails throughout. Hick was himself what Coleridge 
 would call a pyschological curiosity, and the memoir is not less a curiosity for its 
 purity and elegance. The life of Hick should be in the hands of every Christian 
 philosopher ; it is a most interesting account of a mind deeply impressed with religion, 
 and furnishing a beautiful exemplification of the outpouring of a simple, benevolent, 
 untutored spirit, full of hope and enthusiasm .” — The Metropolitan Literary Journal, 
 May, 1832. 
 
 Price 6s. bound in cloth, siDrinkled edges, pp. 514, 
 
 MEMORIALS OF THE UNITED METHODIST 
 FREE CHURCHES, 
 
 WITH 
 
 EECOLLECTIONS OF THE REV. ROBERT ECKETT, 
 AND SOME OF HIS CONTEMPORARIES. 
 
 BY 
 
 M. BAXTER. 
 
 Price One Shilling, 
 
 ELSTOB’S OUTLINES OF THEOLOGY. 
 
 London : W. EEED, UNITED METHODIST FEEE CHUECHES’ BOOK EOOM, 
 15, CEEED LANE, LUDGATE STEEET, E.C. 
 
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