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LADY HUNTINGTON

AND

HER FRIENDS;

THE REVIVAL OF THE WORK OF GOD

THE DiTS OS WESIM, WHITEf lELD, KOMAINE, VENN, AND OTHffiS

THE LAST CENTURY.

COMPILED BY
MRS. HELEN C. KNIGHT.

PUBLISHED BY THE
AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY,
150 IfASSAU-STREET, NEW YORK.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1853, by 0. R. Kingsbttrt,
in. the Clerk's Office of th.a Dietnot Court of the United Stateo for the Sonthern Die-
trict of Ne-^- York.

Hon

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.
Natural and spiritual birth of Lady Huntington  9
CHAPTER II.
A glance at familiar faces — Watts — Lady Abney — Col. Gardiner —
Doddridge  21
CHAPTER III.
Doing and suifering  ... 36
CHAPTER IV.
WMtefield  49
CHAPTER V.
Bomaine — Alarms — Gospel ranging  ... 64
CHAPTER VI.
Doddridge  83
CHAPTER VII.
The Tabernacle — Venn — Preaching tours  , 97
CHAPTER VIII.
Family matters — Chapels — Berridge  114
CHAPTER IX.
The valley of Baca  127
CHAPTER X.
Blaokfriars — Chapel at Bath — Lady Glenorchy .... 1 37

4 CONTE-NTS.
CHAPTER XI.
Indian preacher — Daitmouth — Lord Bachan . .... 150
CHAPTER XII.
Trevecca . .  , . • .16"!
CHAPTER XIII.
A fresh recruit — Tunbridge Wells  .... 174
CHAPTER XIV.
The breach  187
CHAPTER XV.
Death of Whitefield  203
CHAPTER XVI.
Venn leaves Huddersfield — Labors of Lady Huntington — Death of
Howell Harris and Lord Chesterfield  218
CHAPTER XVII.
The rectory of Yelling  239
CHAPTER XVIII.
EowlandHill .  251
CHAPTER XIX.
The secession  263
CHAPTER XX.
Harvest-home  . . 278

PREFACE

The beginning of the last century was marked
by spiritual barrenness in England and her colonies.
Immorality and scepticism had blighted the moral
consciousness of the nation, and cankered the great
heart of the church. In place of the vital, sturdy
faith of a former day, there seemed only a perverted
Christianity, weak, insincere, effeminate, with "a
name to live."
But in this evil and desolate hour, there were in
secret places the wrestling Jacobs, whose conflicts
issued in " newness of life ;" and suddenly, strangely
as it seemed to men, the electric appeals of "White-
field, and the powerful preaching of the "Wesleys, star
tled the thronging multitudes of London with the aw
ful verities of the world to come. The doctrines of
the cross were proclaimed by earnest men, who them
selves had felt their saving power ; everywhere souls
were sunk in the depths of spiritual want, who laid
hold of the "living way" of return to their Father's
house set before them in the gospel ; and multitudes^
renouncing the pomps and vanities of this life, con
fessed themselves "strangers and pilgrims on the

6 PREFACE.
earth," and "desired a better country, that is, a
heavenly." "We have singled out from this great company a
noble Christian Woman, whose name is blended with
the history of this period ; whose soul glowed with a
fervent faith ; and whose princely mansions were open
with a tireless hospitahty to every one who loved her
Lord. As we follow her path, "Wesley goes out from
us to stamp his intrepid spirit upon the organism of
one of the largest bodies of Protestant Christians, and
at some future day we hope to follow him in his
career. Never, perhaps, since" the days of the apostles, did
the brave, loving, and rejoicing spirit of the gospel
more strikingly manifest itself. It embraced the
high and the low, the rich and the poor, who, when
imbued with its divine life, became one in Christ
Jesus, members of the same household of faith. In
them the new birth was something more than a theo
logical dogma, or an article in the creed ; it was a
living reaUty : they rejoiced and testified that they
were born of God, for " old things had passed away,
all things had become new." Eeligion no longer con
sisted in a formal assent to a dead orthodoxy, but it
was the life of Grod in the soul, the living Christian
ity of the Bible, which is alone transforming and
vital.

PREFACE. 7
It is well to study the spiritual development of a
period so marked as this — ^the very period of the great
revival of the work of God in our own country in con
nection with the labors of Edwards, Brainerd, and
the Tennants — in order that -we may see clearly the
distinguishing elements of the renewed soul : hatred
of sin, love to the Redeemer, and flowing firom these,
love and good-will to man. It wiU help to settle
the solemn question, which we doubt not rises upon
many a disquieted soul, both within and without the
visible church, " Am I really a child of God ?" The
question returns, Do you honestly and heartily desire
to be free from the corruption which imderlies your
nature, and which makes you an alien from your
Father's house ? Does your heart go out in tender
ness and love to Him who hath borne your iniqui
ties, and by whose stripes you are healed ? And
with this love in your soul, is it your heart's desire
and prayer to God to bear your part, humble though
it be, to bring others to this Sa-viour of lost men? for
this is the fruit of faith.
Such endeavors may be noiseless, quiet, domestic
in their nature, like Harlan Page's, and like many a
godly mother's ; but they must exist, for the church
of Christ is essentially aggressive : its mission is not
only to love, but to conquer by love. And whUe
the believer should vrin a hearing by the purity and

8 PEEPACE.
blamelessness of his life, the singleness of his aim,
and the beauty of his holiness, shall he not " go forth
bearing precious seed," be ready to "do good and
to communicate ;" and in humble imitation of his
heavenly Master, distribute the living bread, and
pour out the healing waters of salvation to famished
ones all along the way-sides of life?*
* The pedigree, both of Lady Huntington and her hus
band, and of George Washington first president of the United
States, as traced by Mapleson in his " Pearls of American Po
etry," meets in the same parentage, and shows that they ¦were
distantly related.

LADY HUNTINGTON AND
HER FRIENDS.

CHAPTER I.
NATURAL AND SPIRITUAL BIRTH OF LA15Y HUNT
ING-TON.
A LITTLE girl is following her playmate to the
grave ; the funeral badges, the solemn pomp of the
procession, the falling of the turf upon the coffin, with
the mournful echo, "earth to earth, ashes to ashes,
dust to dust," fill her with profound awe. Death
and life seem strangely blended ; the great hereafter
rises before her amazed and startled vision. Her
young heart is bowed. " Oh God, be my God, when
my hour shall come !" is her anxious though unuttered
cry. The impressions of this hour were never lost ;
neither the bright promises which dawned upon her
girlhood, nor their brighter realization in a brilliant
and happy marriage, could ever luU the unrest of her
awakened spirit, or silence the cravings of her famished
soul. She felt herself in a far country, a wanderer
from her Father's house, and she began to be in
want. 1*

1(! L.'vDY KUNTING-ION.
This child, called Selina Shirley, second daughter
of Earl Ferrars, was born in Chartley, August 24,
1707. Almost from infancy, an uncommon serious
ness shaded the natural gladness of her childhood;
in the clear depths of her penetrating eye, and in the
curve of her thin Hp, were traces of earnest thought,
and thought inspired not so much by the sweet
solitude and breezy melodies of the grand old trees
around her father's mansion, or the ivied ruins of
Chartley castle, or the storied associations of her own
ancestral history, as by other and far deeper things.
She loved to visit the grass-grovyn grave of her departed
friend, and would often stray to a little closet in her
own room, where, screened from the notice of her
sisters, she poured out her heart in supplication to the
Author of her being. "Without any positive religious
instruction, for none knew the inward sorrows of this
Uttle girl, nor were there any around her who could
have led her to the balm there is in Gilead, Selina
devoutly and diligently searched the Scriptures, if
haply she might find that precious something which
her soul craved. That there was a higher good, a
purer joy, a loftier love, she was well assured, for her
religious instincts kept climbing upward for light and
warmth ; but where could they be found ?
At the age of twenty-one, she was married to
Theophilus, Earl of Huntington, a man of high and
exemplary character, and by this connection became
allied to a family whose tastes and principles happily
coincided with her own.
Both by birth and by marriage Lady Huntington

FIRST YEARS OF MARRIED LIFE. 11
was introduced to all the splendors and excitements
of high English Ufe. At the residence of her aunt.
Lady Fanny Shirley, at Twickenham, which formed
one of the Hterary centres of that day, and whose
mistress was a reigning beauty of the court of George
I., she mingled freely with the wits, poets, and
authors, then distinguished in the waUis of English
literature. Among her friends might be numbered the
famous Duchess of Marlborough, whose talents were
only equal to her temper ; Lady Mary Wortley Monta
gue, whose intimacy and quarrels with Pope, as well as
her eccentricities, have sent her name down to pos
terity; Margaret, daughter of the Earl of Oxford, a
patroness of literature and friend of Miss Robinson,
afterwards the beautiful and accomplished Mrs. Mon
tague. The gifts and graces of the young Lady Hunt
ington fitted her to shine in the most elegant circles
of England ; but whatever she might have been as a
leader of fashion, or an actor in political intrigues, or
the friend of literary merit, her life comes down to
us linked with the Redeemer's cause, and her name
is enrolled among those who have loved and labored
for their Lord.
During the first years of her married fife. Lady
Huntington's chief endeavor, amid the shifting scenes
of town and country life, was to maintain a con
science void of offence. She strove to fulfil the
various duties of her position with scrupulous exact
ness ; she was sincere, just, and upright ; she prayed,
fasted, and gave alms ; she was courteous, consider-

12 LADY HUNTINGTON.
ate, and charitable ; at Doimington Park, Ashby de la
Zouch, in Leicestershire, the elegant summer resi
dence of the Earl, she was the Lady Bountiful of
the neighborhood ; she struggled against infirmities
within and temptations from without, and strove to
model her outward and inward life after the divine
pattern — yet, was Lady Huntington happy? The
consciousness of seeking to live a virtuous and God
fearing life braced her moral powers and quickened
her intellect; but where was the faith that could
emancipate her soul from the fear of God's inquisi
tion ? "I have done virtuously," was the complacent
suggestion of self-love ; "but how can I teU when I
have done enough?" was the doubtful inquiry of
conscience. .So passed the early years of Lady Huntington's
life ; children were born, mingling their lights and
shadows in the stately household ; no earthly good
was.withholden, nor were earthly blessings abused
by riot or excess ; dignity, sobriety, and refinement
presided over the homes and halls of the Earl.
Among the women of her day it might have been
said of his wife, "She excelled them all," yet her
heart knew its own sorrows; it was laden with its
own hidden burdens.
Lord Huntington had several sisters whose
thoughtful cast of mind made them particularly wel
come to his house. In them, Lady Huntington had
found kindred spirits ; but now came Lady Margaret
from Ledstone Hall, bearing a new and rich experience.
She was the same Margaret of old, and yet another.

HEARS MR. INGHAM. 13
Yorkshire and Ledstone, among other towns in York
shire, had been blessed by the labors of a mighty man
of God. He preached the great doctrines of the
cross under a profound and thrilling sense of their
value. He went from town to town, from hamlet to
hamlet, and house to house, preaching "repentance
toward God, and faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ."
Men paused and listened to his messages ; the clergy
were waked from their spiritual slumbers, some to
receive a new quickening from his words, others to
upbraid and drive him from their churches. The
sisters of Ledstone Hall heard of his fame, and hun
gered for the living manna. Mr. Ingham was invited
to the Ledstone church. The preacher's words fell
upon good ground. His simple yet searching appeals
alarmed the conscience and melted the heart. Mar
garet Hastings embraced the truth as it is in Jesus :
it was no longer the Christianity of creed and ritual,
but a new birth into Christ's spiritual family, with
the conscious heirship to a heavenly inheritance.
"With this fresh Ufe in her soul, she visited the
house of the Earl. "What a new world of hopes, of
aims, of privileges could she unfold to Lady Hunt
ington — ^pardon through a crucified Saviour — peace
such as the world could neither give nor take away ;
and as she spoke one day, these words fell from her
lips : " Since I have known and believed in the Lord
Jesus Christ for salvation, I have been as happy as
an angel." A believer's blessed testimony, but it
found no response in Lady Huntington's heart
Margaret's language was like an unknown tongue.

14 LADY HUNTINGTON.
It was the report of a strange land. There was no
answering tone. She felt herself an utter stranger to
those sweet assurances which had hushed the dis
quiet of her sister's soul, and admitted to the groping
spirit a gleam of light from the heavenly world.
Lady Huntington was alarmed. Could she, relig
ious from her youth up, be really ignorant of the true
way of acceptance with God ? Had she not always
been doing, struggling ? Yet in spite of aU, a con
viction of short-coming pressed upon her ; and she
added austerities and rigors to subdue her sense of
indwelling sin.
Alas, she felt only more keenly, that every attempt
to make her life answer to the requirements of God's
righteous laws, only widened the breach between
herself and the Lawgiver. She beheld herself more
and more a spiritual outcast. Thus harassed by
inward conflicts. Lady Huntington was thrown upon
a sick-bed, and after many days and nights seemed
hastening to the grave. The fear of death fell terri
bly upon her.
"It was to. no purpose," says one of her at this
period, "that she reminded herself of the morality of
her conduct. In vain did she recall the many
encomiums passed upon her early piety. Her best
righteousness, so far from justifying her before God,
appeared only to increase her condemnation."
There she lay, with every alleviation which the
best skill and the tenderest nursing could impart,
but there was a malady of the soul which these
coultl not reach. "Was there no balm in GUead, and

STUDENTS IN OXFORD. 15
no Physician there ? Then it was that the words of
Lady Margaret came laden with wonderful meaning.
"I too wiU wholly cast myself on Jesus Christ for
life and salvation," was her last refuge ; and from her
bed she lifted up her heart to God for pardon and
mercy through the blood of his Son. "With streaming
eyes she oast herself on her Saviour : " Lord, I believe ;
help thou mine unbelief." Immediately the scales
fell from her eyes ; doubt and distress vanished ; joy
and peace filled her bosom. "With appropriating faith,
she exclaimed, "My Lord, and my God!" From
that moment her disease took a favorable turn ; she
was restored to health, and what was better, to
"newness of life."
Exemplary as Lady Huntington had been as a wife
and mother, and free from the corruptions of fashion
able society, no one could faU to see the transform
ing influence which grace had wrought in her. Love
and self-abasement mellowed the sterner traits of her
character ; the strong sympathies of her heart gushed
out towards the people of God, and henceforth, "My
God, I give myself to thee," became the watchword
of her life.
At the period of Lady Huntington's marriage,
there was a little band of students in the bosom of
Oxford University who, by prayer and fasting and a
rigid self-denial, had laid hold upon the great doc
trines of the gospel, and were wrestling with them,
like one of old, for a heavenly benediction. Shocked
by the scoffing tone and degraded aims of their fel
lows,, and disgusted with the prevailing shallow piety

16 LADY HUNTINGTON.
of the pulpit and the church, they asked, " Is there not
something holier and loftier than this in the gospel of
Jesus Christ?" "Can it not redeem from sin and
exalt by the power of an endless life ?" Profoundly
earnest, they accepted the Bible in its integrity, with^
out abatement or addition, as the charter of theii
liberties and a missive charged with terrible mean
ing from God to a fallen world. They gave them
selves to the service of the Lord with their whole
hearts ; nor is it strange, in that period of scepticism
and levity, that their devout and steadfast adherence
to religious convictions provoked the fr-owns of their
masters, and the ridicule of their companions ; but
taunts and reviltngs could not daunt the spirit of
such men as "Whitefield, the "Wesleys, and their more
immediate copartners. Rich in that grace which the
Father of our spirits vouchsafes to the waiting and
believing followers of his Son, the time came when
every corner of England thrilled with the fervid
eloquence of their preaching.
After leaving Oxford, "Whitefield at Bristol, Ing
ham in Yorkshire, and "Wesley at London, began those
fearless and awakening appeals which quickened the
vitality of EngHsh Christianity, reasserting its de
mands upon the moral consciousness of the nation.
The "Wesleys with Ingham went to Georgia,
where, after laboring two years with success ill-pro
portioned to their zeal, they returned to England.
On the voyage and during their stay, having been
thrown into the society of some Moravian mission
aries, whose simple piety won their confidence and

^''&''V"i'1ni""es;ey Saiap.is

iT®Ii5j:?!

JOHN AND CHARLES WESLEY. 17
love, they lost no time on their arrival at London in
visiting the Moravian chapel at Fetter's-lane, where
"Wesley's career properly begins, but whence he not
long after withdrew to lay, as it seemed, not only
the foundations of a new encampment in the great
Christian army, but to give urgency and a name to
that religious renovation which the church needed,
both to maintain her supremacy, and to quicken her
onward march in the conquest of the world.
As Margaret Hastings, from whose lips she fii-st
heard the joyful language of a saving faith, was a
disciple of Ingham, no wonder that when Lady
Huntington experienced its blessed effects in her own
soul, she turned from the more frigid and formal
teaching of former spfritual guides with a yearning
heart towards the new. On her recovery, she sent
for John and Charles "Wesley, then in London, to
come and visit her, expressing a warm interest in
their labors, and bidding them God speed in the
great and glorious work of urging men to repentance
and to heaven. This was in the year 1739, and
Lady Huntington was at the age of thirty -two.
In Lady Huntington they found an ardent friend,
and a fearless advocate of their new movements.
To her, new movements wore no portentous look
when the church was sleeping at her post, and the
world around was sinking to ruin. The vigorous
itinerant preaching which constituted the then new,
though revised instrumentality for meeting the wants
of the time, whether among the colliers of Kings-
wood, the London rabble on Kennington common.

18 LAUY HUNTINGTON.
or the farmers of the Yorkshire dales, strongly con
trasted with, and boldly rebuked the stagnant min
istrations of the sporting clergy, the grave decorum
of their more serious brethren, and the' utter indiffer
ence generally felt about providing suitable means
of moral culture for the great masses of half-savage
workmen living in the principal cities of the king
dom. Both the Earl and his wife became frequent
attendants upon the ministry of Wesley ; and while
Lady Huntington took great delight in the society of
her new Cliristian friends, she did not neglect to urge
upon her former associates the claims of that gospel
which she had found so precious to her own soul.
The rebuffs which she sometimes met with on these
occasions form a curious page in the chapter of
human pride.
" The doctrines of these preachers are most repul
sive," writes the proud Duchess of Buckingham,
"and strongly tinctured with impertinence and dis
respect towards their superiors, in perpetually endeav
oring to level all ranks and do away with all distinc
tions. It is monstrous to be told that you have a
heart as sinful as the common wretches that crawl
upon the earth. This is highly offensive and insult
ing, and I cannot but wonder that your ladyship
should relish any sentiments so much at variance
with high rank and goodbr ceding."
"Your concern for my religious improvement is
very obliging," thus discourses the unhappy Lady
Marlborough ; " God knows we all need mending, and

LADY MARLBOROUGH. 19
none more than myself. I have lived to see great
changes in the world — have acted a conspicuous part
myself — and now hope in my old age to obtain mercy
from God, as 'I never expect any at the hands of my
fellow-creatures. Good, alas, I do want ; bui
where among the corrupt sons of Adam am I to find
it? Your ladyship must direct me. But women
of wit, beauty, and quality cannot bear too many
humiliating truths — they shock our pride. Yet we
must die — we must converse with earth and worms.
I have no comfort in my own family, and when
alone my reflections almost kill me, so that I am
forced to fly to the society of those whom I detest
and abhor. Now there is Lady Frances Sanderson's
great rout to-morrow night ; aU the world will be
there, and I must go. I do hate that woman as
much as I hate a physician ; but I must go, if for no
other purpose but to mortify and spite her. This is
very wicked, I know, but I confess my httle pecca
dillos to you ; your goodness will lead you to be mild
and forgiving."
This, then, is the bitter experience of one who
had been the companion of princesses and the orna
ment of courts ; "vanity and vexation of spirit." It
tears away the trappings of wealth and station, and
startles us by a sight of the bad passions which lie
cankering beneath. Let it be contrasted with the
freshness and beauty of the believer's life.
""What blessed effects does the love of God pro
duce in the hearts of those who abide in him,"
writes Lady Huntington to Charles Wesley. "How

20 LADY HUNTINGTON.
soUd is the peace and how divine the joy that springs
from an assurance that we are united to the Saviour
by a living faith. Blessed be his name. I have an
abiding sense of his presence with me, notwithstand
ing the weakness and unworthiness I feel, and an
intense desire that he may be glorified in the salva
tion of souls, especially those who lie nearest my
heart. After the poor labors of the day are over,
my heart stiU cries, 'God be merciful to me a sin
ner !' I am deeply sensible that daily, hourly, and
naomentarUy I stand in need of the sprinkling of my
Saviour's blood. Thanks be to God, the fountain
is always open; 0 what an anchor is this to my
soul !"

A GLANCE AT FAMILIAR FACES. 2)

CHAPTER II.
A GLANCE AT FAMILIAR FACES.
Among Lady Huntington's friends and guests we
find dear familiar and honored names. Behold that
little_ feeble old man, shy in manner, yet rich in
speech : bodily infirmity has long beset his path, and
driven him from pubhc and stirring life to the retire
ment which he dearly prized. For him the country
had manifold charms, and thus he sings :
"I search the crowded court, the busy street,
Run through the villages, trace every road.
In vain I search ; for every heart I meet
Is laden with the world, and empty of its God.
How shall I bear with men to spend ray days ?
Dear feathered innocents, you please me best;
My God has formed your voices for his praise,
His high designs are answered by your tuneful breast."
"Wherever he goes, he is regarded with veneration
and love, for his mind is stored with knowledge and
his heart is aUve with tender sympathies. He is the
author of many a learned treatise, a father in the
ranks of non-conformity, and has a fame both in the
old world and the new; yet we know and love him
best as author of the sweet cradle-song, " Hush, my
dear, lie still and slumber," which lulled us to sleep
in the nursery, and of those psalms and hymns which
are destined to shape the experience and lead the

22 LADY HUNTINGTON.
worship of millions, when the fame of his learning
shall no more be remembered.
This is Dr. Watts, the venerable pastor at Stoke
Newington. He was born in the stormiest days of
non-conformity, and we find him nursed in the arms
of his sorrowing mother on a stone by the prison walls
which confine his father, a "godly man and a deacon,"
willing to suffer constraint and persecution for con
science' sake. He is without the endearing treasures
of wife and children, for he was never married ; -"yet
his lines have fallen to him in pleasant places and he
has a goodly heritage," for he is the beloved and hon
ored member of a family " which, for piety, harmony,
order, and every virtue, was a house of God ;" here
were "the retired grace, the fragrant bower, the
spreading lawn, the flowery garden," with comfort,
elegance, friendship, and books.
" I came to the house of this my good friend Sir
Thomas Abney, intending to spend a single week
beneath his roof," said Dr. Watts one day, "and I
have extended my visit to thirty years."
"I consider your visit, my dear sir," responded
Lady Abney, "as the shortest my family ever re
ceived." Sir Thomas, Alderman of London, a pious and
exemplary man, whose dignities did not seduce his
heart from his God, died in 1722, eight years after
Watts had come under his hospitable roof. The
mournful occasion was commemorated by an elegiac
from the poet-pastor; closing with a note of praise,
always so congenial to his spirit :

A GLANCE AT FAMILIAR FACES. 23
" Great God, to thee we raise our song —
Thine were the graces that enriched his mind;
We bless thee that he shone so long,
And left so fair a track of pious life behind."
After Sir Thomas' death, he still remained in the
family an honored and cherished member of the fire«
side circle.
Dr. Watts was settled at Stoke Newington in
1702 : the extreme dehcacy of his health prompted
his people the next year to associate with him Rev.
Samuel Price. The love he bore to his charge, and
the high estimate he entertained of the relation which
bound him to it, is thus touchingly expressed: "I
pronounce it with the greatest sincerity," said he,
" that there is no place or company or employment
this side of heaven, which can give me such a rehsh
of dehght as when I stand ministering holy things
in the midst of you." Nor was it from the pulpit that
his influence was chiefly exercised: whenever his
health permitted, his pastoral visits from house to
house were kind, instructive, and edifying; while a
fifth, or as some say, a third part of his income was
spent in charities.
There were then no associations, as now, to cir
culate the word of Ufe at home and abroad. Bible,
Missionary, and Tract societies were the growth of a
later day, nay, the product of that very renovation
of English Christianity which was then in progress.
" I sometimes regret fooUshly enough," said Hannah
More, " whUe assisting in the formation and watching
the growth of the reUgious institutions which have so
distinctly marked the present century, that some of

24 LADY HUNTINGTON.
my earUest and dearest friends did not live to pro
mote and rejoice in them." Nor can we help thinking
how both Watts and Doddridge would have rejoiced
in those things which we now see and hear, when the
knowledge of the Lord is so fast fiUing the earth.
" I have long been in pain," wrote Colonel Gar
diner to Doddridge, " lest that excellent person. Dr.
Watts, should be called to heaven before I had an op
portunity of letting him know how much his works
have been blest to me, and of course of returning to
him my hearty thanks. I must beg the favor of you
to let him know that I intended to have waited on
him in the beginning of last May, when I was in
London; but was informed, and that to my gi-eat
sorrow, that he was extremely iU, and therefore that
I did not think a visit would be seasonable. I am
well acquainted with his works, especiaUy with his
psalms, hymns, and lyrics. How often, by singing
some of these to myself on horseback and elsewhere,
has the evil spirit been made to flee away :
" When e'er my heart in tune was found,
Like David's harp of solemn sound.
" I desire to bless God for the good news of his
recovery ; and entreat you to teU him, that although
I cannot keep pace vfith him here in celebrating the
high praises of our glorious Redeemer, which is the
great grief of my heart, yet I am persuaded, when I
join the glorious company above, where there wiU be
no drawbacks, that none wiU outsing me there, be
cause I shaU not find any that has been more indebt-
ed to the wonderful riches of divine grace than I.

A GLANCE AT FAMILIAR FACES. 25
" ' Give me a place at thy saints' feet,
On sonae fallen angel's vacant seat,
1 '11 strive to sing as loud as they
Who sit above in brighter day.' "
Lady Huntington had the pleasure of introducing
tJiese two men to each other ; and we can almost see
the taU and stately figure of the colonel, dressed in
his regimentals, bending with love and veneration
before the feeble and palsied poet, seemingly more
attenuated by his closely fitting breeches and skull
cap. What a whole-souled heartiness in the soldier's
grasp ! How affectionate and sympathizing is the
answering pressure of the old man's hand !
Colonel and Lady Frances Gardiner were frequent
guests of Lord Huntington, during their visits in
London. "And I cannot express," exclaimed Lady Hunt
ington, "how much I esteem that most excellent man
Colonel Gardiner. What love and mercy has God
shown in snatching him as a brand from the burning !
He is truly aUve to God, and pleads nothing but the
plea of the publican, ' God be merciful to me a sirmer.'
What a monument of his mercy, grace, and love!
To glorify God and serve him with aU his ransomed
powers is now his only aim."
Behold another, one whom Dr. Watts tenderly
loves: he is a young man of tail and slender make,
whose sincerity and sweetness of manner win our
a^nfidence and bespeak affection. You hear him talk,
and every thing he says bears the aroma of deep and
genuine piety ; nothing dogmatic or uncharitable or
censorious falls from his lips ; his spirit is not fettered
HiiiitlngtoD. ^

26 LADY HUNxINGION.
by denominational barriers, but he recognizes his
Master's image and embraces his Master's foUowers,
as weU within the pale of the stately English church,
and among the rude tenants of Moorfields, as among
the stern believers belonging to his own household oi
faith. He is the popular preacher, and successful
teacher, Philip Doddridge of Northampton.
"When it was proposed to establish a college among
the dissenters, Doddridge, then quite young, was
requested to express his views upon the best method
of preparing young men for the ministry. He drew
up a paper, which was sent to Dr. Watts for his
opinion. Much pleased with the breadth and sound
ness of the article, the doctor immediately opened a
correspondence with the young author, expressing a
hope that he might one day be able to carry his
admirable plan into execution.
He was already a favorite and rising preacher : soon
after completing his studies, he received an urgent call
to settle over a large dissenting congregation in Lon
don ; this, with other flattering invitations, he refused,
preferring the humble parish of Kibworth, with less
hurry and more leisure for study and self-improve
ment. To some of his friends, who seemed to pity
his obscure fortunes, he thus beautifuUy replies :
"Here I stick close to those delightful studie's
which a favorable Providence has made the business
of my life. One day passeth away after another, and
I only know it passes pleasantly with me. I live Uke
a tortoise shut up in its sheU, almost always in the
same town, the same house, and the same chamber :

A GLANCE AT FAMILIAR FACES. a7
yet I Hve like a prince — not indeed in the pomp of
gTeatness, but the pride of liberty — master of my
books, master of my time, and I hope I may add,
master of myself. I can wiUingly give up the charms
of London, the luxury, the company, and the popu
larity of it, for the secret pleasures of rational employ
ment and self-approbation, retired from applause or
reproach, from envy and contempt, and the destruc
tive baits of avarice and ambition ; so that instead of
lamenting it as my misfortune, you should congrat
ulate me upon it as my happiness, that I am con
fined to an obscure village, seeing it gives me so
many valuable advantages to the most important pur
poses of devotion and philosophy, and I hope I may
add, usefulness too."
Behold the sweet contentment of the vUlage pas
tor, at rest with himself and happy in his God : no
ambitious cravings, no secret repinings, no envious
comparisons, no feverish excitements, disturb the
peaceful flow of his devout and useful life. But at
Kibworth, Doddridge was not destined to remain ; the
Lord had other work for his servant. Unknown to
himself, he was preparing a fame wide as the Chris
tian world.
In 1729, he received a pressing call to an impor
tant dissenting congregation at Castle Hill, North
ampton. Various circumstances conspired, which
caused his best friends to urge his accepting it. He
did so ; and in addition to his pastoral and pulpit
duties, he established an academy for young men
upon the plan already mapped out, which had received

28 LADY HUNTINGTON.
the universal approbation of his mmisterial brethrea
Doddridge is now twenty-eight years old.
A Ufe-work was before him, and he entered upon
it with an elastic and bounding spirit — more than that,
with systematic and steady diUgence. At the begin
ning of every year he laid out an exact plan of busi
ness, as also for every month, week, and day, so that
the work of to-day should not clash with that of to
morrow ; and he continued to have a few hours every
week, to which no particular business was aUotted.
These he set apart as a sort of surplus capital, out of
which he might repair his accidental losses, or be
enabled to meet, now and then, some unexpected call.
"It seems to me," he says, "that activity and
cheerfulness are so nearly alUed, that we can hardly
take a more effectual method to secure the latter,
than to cultivate the former, especially where it is
employed to sow the seed of an immortal harvest."
Yet, with all his weightier cares, the humblest of
his flock found access to him, and he could turn away
pleasantly from his most favorite studies to hear their
sorrows, to comfort, and to counsel them. In short, his
life abounded with those "sweet courtesies" which
liis kindly nature no doubt rendered easy to him, but
which he never ceased to cultivate in himself or com
mend in others, "I know that these things are mere
trifles in themselves," saith he, "but they are the
outguards of humanity and friendship, and effeo-
tuaUy prevent many a rude attack, which, though
small, might end in fatal consequences."
"And as a husband," he says, "may I particu-

A GLANCE AT FAMILIAR FACES. 2'J
larly avoid every thing which has the appearance of
pettishness, to which, amidst my various cares and
labors, I may in some unguarded moment be liable.
May it be my daily care to keep up the spirit of
religion in conversation with my wife, to recommend
her to the divine blessing, and to manifest an oblig
ing and tender disposition towards her ; and as a
father, may it be my care to intercede for my children
daily, to endeavor to bring them early to communion
with the church, and to study to oblige tljem and
secure their affections."
But busy as the preacher, the pastor, and the
father must now be. Dr. Watts singled him out to
do a work which it had long been one of his own
chief desires to execute, but which his increasing in
firmities now warned him to relinquish. It was to
prepare a smaU volume upon practical and experi
mental reUgion for popular use.
"In the doctrines of divinity and* the gospel of
Christ, I know not any man of greater skiU than him
self," says the doctor of his friend and favorite, "or
hardly sufficient to be his second, as he hath a most
exact acquaintance with the things of God and our
holy reUgion, and he hath a most happy manner of
teaching those who are younger. He is a most affec
tionate preacher and pathetic writer ; and in a word,
since I am now advanced in age, beyond my seven
tieth year, if there were any person to whom Provi
dence would suffer me to commit a second part of
my life and usefulness, Doddridge would be the man ;
besides all this he possesseth a spirit of so much char-

30 LADY HUNTINGTON.
ity, love, and goodness towards his fellow- Christians
who may fall into some lesser differences of opinion,
as becometh a follower of the blessed Jesus."
Doddridge declined the work on account of his
manifold duties, until he dared no longer to resist the
urgency of his venerable friend. He consented to
undertake it, and in 1745 the book was issued, dedi-
cated to Dr. Watts, and called, " The Rise and Prog
ress of Religion in the Soul." The gratified doctor
pronounQcd it a most excellent performance, "its ded
ication being the only thing he felt disposed to find
fault with." The Uttle book has preached aU over
Christendom : to-day it is telling the story of the
cross in ten thousand homes, and multitudes, we may
well suppose, Uke WUberforce and Stonehouse, have
reason to bless God for its searching appeals.
At the advent of Wesley and Whitefield, the inter
ests of genuine piety seem to have been at as low an
ebb among tlie dissenting churches as among the
Episcopal, though in each there were beacon-lights
on th& black shores of indifference and scepticism.
If Burnet could grievously exclaim, "When I see the
gross ignorance of those who apply for ordination, and
the want of piety and scriptural knowledge in those
already in the sacred office, these things pierce my
soul and make me cry out, ' Oh, that I had wings
like a dove, for then would I fly away and be at rest.*
What are we Uke to grow to ? How are we to deal
with adversaries, or in any way promote the honor of
God and carry on the great concerns of the gospel,
when, in the fundamentals of religion, those who ought

A GLANCE AT FAMILIAR FACES. 31
to teach others need to be themselves taught the first
principles of the oracles of God." No less mournful
utterances come up from the bosom of dissent. Hear
its voice of lament. " The dissenting interest is not
like itself. I hardly know it. It used to be famous
for faith, hoUness, and love. I knew the time when
I had no doubt, into whatever place of worship I went
among dissenters, but that my heart would be warmed
and edified, and my edification promoted. Now I
hear prayers and sermons which I neither relish nor
understand. EvangeUcal truth and duty are quite
old-fashioned things ; many pulpits are not so much
as chaste ; one's ears are so dinned with ' reason,'
' the great law of reason,' and ' the eternal law of
reason,' that it is enough to put one out of conceit
with the chief excellency of our nature, because it is
idoUzed, and even deified. How prone are men to
extremes. 0 for the purity of our fountains, the
wisdom and diUgence of our tutors, the humility,
piety, and teachableness of our youth."
Such were the voices of those crying like Ishmael
in the wilderness, because the fountains were dried
up. The causes which had produced so general a
decay in vital piety, it hardly falls within our prov
ince to describe. We regard it as one of the signs
of the times, and descry in it the Lord near at hand,
mighty to save. How did the true Israel of God
git soUtary, weeping sore in the night. How did the
ways of Zion mourn, because none came to her solemn
feasts. Hark ! in the distance the heralds cry, " Prepare

32 LADY HUNTINGTON.
ye the way of the Lord," and the voice of promise
comes richly laden : " Thy light shall break forth as
the morning, and thy health shall spring forth speed
ily. The glory of God shall be thy rereward. Then
shalt thou call, and the Lord shall answer; thou
shaft cry, and he shaU say. Here am I. And if thou
draw out thy soul to the hungry, and satisfy the
afflicted soul, then shall thy light arise in obscurity,
and thy darkness be as the noonday ; and the Lord
shall guide thee continually, and satisfy thy soul in
drought, and make fat thy bones : and thou shalt be
like a watered garden, and like a spring of water
whose waters fad not. And they that shall be of thee
shall build the old waste places : thou shalt raise up
the foundations of many generations ; and thou shalt
be called. The repairer of the breach. The restorer of
paths to dwell in."
Thus do the glorious foreshadowings of holy writ
adapt themselves to every period of Zion's enlarge
ment : they come forth now to meet and make strong
the chosen instruments of this great awakening.
How did the dissenting churches of England
receive the new preachers ? Did they rejoice and
say, " How beautiful upon the mountains are the
feet of him that bringeth good tidings, that publish-
eth salvation ?" -Some stood aloof, caring for none of
these things ; others spoke bitterly. Others asked,
"Whereunto wiU this grow?" Others laid all to
the charge of enthusiasm, and thought themselves
doing God service. "I cannot but think," saith Dod
dridge, "that by the success of some of these de-

A GLANCE AT FAMILIAR FACES. 33
spised men, God is rebuking the madness of those
who think themselves the only wise men, and in a
remarkable manner laying bare his mighty arm."
" There may indeed be, and often is, a tincture of
enthusiasm in some extraordinary conversions; but
having weighed the rnatter dUigently, I think a man
had better be a sober, honest, chaste, industrious
enthusiast, than Uve without any regard to God and
reUgion at aU. I think it infinitely better for a man
to be a religious Methodist, than an adulterer, a thief,
a swearer, a drunkard, or a rebel to his parents, as I
knew some actuaUy were who have been wrought
upon and reformed by these preachers."
Doddridge was severely censured by his brethren
for his ready recognition of Whitefield and Wesley, as
true reapers in the Lord's harvest. Angry and threat
ening letters were sent to him from various quarters,
and fears were entertained lest his catholicity might
prove ruinous to the institution under his charge ;
for he not only grasped them by the hand and bade
them God speed on their glorious mission, but on com
ing to London he appeared in their pulpits.
" I am sorry to have had many questions asked
me about your preaching in the Tabernacle," wrote
Dr. Watts anxiously, yet tenderly, " and sinking the
character of a clergyman, and especially a tutor among
the dissenters, so low thereby. I find many of our
friends entertain this idea ; but I give no answer, not
knowing how much you may have been engaged there.
I pray God to guard us from every temptation."
Not long afterwards. Lady Huntington, Lady
2*

34 LADY HUNTINGTON.
Frances Gardiner, Doddridge, and Mr. Price weit
dining with Lady Abney. The conversation natu
rally turned upon the remarkable reUgious move
ments of the day, when they were candidly discussed,
and all, from their separate points of observation,
related what their eyes had seen and their ears had
heard. " Such are the fruits," exclaimed the doctor, his
small grey eyes brightening with the intensity of his
interest, " that will ever follow the faithful proclama
tion of divine mercy. The Lord our God wiU crown
his message with success, and give it an abundant
entrance into the hearts of men. It is a blessing
such men have been raised up." Doddridge prob
ably did not receive another reproof Dr. Y/atts
afterwards became acquainted with Whitefield, who
received his almost dying benediction, having paid
him a visit a few hours before his death in 1749.
" The nation hath been much alarmed of late
with reports concerning the gi'owth and increase of
Methodism," said one of the church of England.
" Would we put a stop to the further progress of it ?
There is one way by which it may be done, and let
us of the estabhshed church join heart and hand in
the work, namely, to Uve more holUy, pray more fer
vently, preach more "heavenly, and labor more dili
gently than the Methodist ministers appear to do.
Then shall we soon hear that field-preaching is at an
end, and people wUl flock to the churches to hear us,
as they now flock to the fields to hear them."
To this Doddridge heartily responded, "And let

A GLANCE AT FAMILIAR FACES. 33
us of the dissenting churches go and do Ukewise."
His earnest prayer was for greater union and har
mony among Protestant Christians. "0 for that
happy time," sighed this healer of breaches, " when
the question shall be, not how much we may lawfully
dispute, but on the one side, what may we waive,
and on the other, what may we acquiesce in, from a
principle of mutual tenderness and respect, without
displeasing our common Lord, and injuring that
great cause of original Christianity which he hath
appointed us to guard. But," he adds, "the dark
ness of our minds, the narrowness of our hearts, and
our attachment to private interest, wUl put the day,
I fear, afar off."
A hundred years later, and we descry not yet its
dawn.

36 LADY HUNTINGTON.
CHAPTER III.
DOING AND SUFFERING.
Lady Huntington took a warm and active inter
est in promoting the Redeemer's kingdom; she not
only lent her money and her name, but she gave
herself in personal efforts to seek and to save them
which were lost. " For a fortnight past," she writes
to Charles Wesley, " I have found that instruction
and some short exhortations to the weak, have beei
of great use, especiaUy among my work people, witt
whom I spend a part of every day. I find much
comfort in this myself, and am rarely if ever out ol
the presence of God. He is a pUlar of light before
me." Always intent upon seizing opportunities for
speaking to her dependents, she once addressed a la
borer at work on the garden wall, pressing him with
affectionate earnestness to consider eternal things.
Some time after, speaking to another upon the same
subject, she said, "Thomas, I fear you never pray, oi
look to Christ for salvation."
"Your ladyship is mistaken," replied the man;
" I heard what passed between you and James at
the garden wall, and the word you meant for him
took effect on me."
"How did you hear it ?" she asked.
" I heard it," Thomas answered, " on the other

DOING AND SUFFERING. 37
side of the garden, through a hole in the wall, and I
shall never forget the impression I received."
In this one Uttle incident we mark the germ of
that which constituted the main element of that spir
itual awakening -CONQUEST, and conquest in the true
line of Christian aggression. Au unfledged hope, the
quiet possession of spiritual immunities, a merely
christened profession, did not satisfy her. She must
not only be fed with the bread of Ufe, but she must
also feed others ; she must not sit down herself at the
Master's table, but go out and compel others to come
in. At aU times and everywhere, men were to be
rescued from sin and its terrible penalties ; in all the
glare, the activity, the interlaced and interlacing
interests of the present and outward Ufe, only two
things concerned her — ^redemption, and retribution;
they stood out bald and significant, charged with im
mortal issues : and aU her purposes, all her induce
ments were shaped and carried forward under the ur
gency of motives grand and solemn as eternity itself.
The folding of the hands, a sweet retirement into un
worldly places, a graceful withdrawal from forbidden
things, was not her testimony to the exceeding sinful
ness of sin. She went from the altar and the mercy-
seat warmed with holy zeal; her presence aroused
the moral consciousness of the most dormant ; her
whole life was a constant exhortation, "Turn ye,
turn ye ; for why will ye die ?"
In 1744, the earl's famUy was afflicted by the
loss of two beautiful boys, George and Fernando,
who died of small-pox, then prevailing at London

38 LADY HUNTINGTON.
With domestic sorrow then mingled pubUc anxiety,
the whole country being agitated by the last despe
rate effort of the exiled Stuarts to regain the throne
of England. The nation was fiUed with alarms and
rumors. In many of the larger towns riots occurred,
in which the Methodist preachers were sometimes
rudely attacked and grossly insulted.
On one occasion Charles Wesley was summoned
before the magistrates of Wakefield to answer for
treasonable words let fall in prayer, wherein he be
sought the Lord to recall his "banished" ones, which
was construed to mean the Pretender.
" I had no thought of the Pretender," said the ac
cused to t^e official, "but of those who confess them
selves strangers and pilgrims on the earth, who seek
a country, knowing this is not their home. The
scripture speaks of us as captive exUes, who are not
at home untU we re^ch heaven." The judges wise
ly accepted the spiritual interpretation, and let the
prisoner go.
In the struggle which foUowed, Col. Gardiner lost
his life. On parting with his wife and eldest daugh
ter at Stirling castle, previous to the fatal engage
ment at Prestonpans, Lady Frances was more than
ordinarily affected : instead of offering his accustom
ed consolations, and inspiring hope by his own cheer
fulness, he only said, "We have an eternity to spend
together." The faU of this exceUent man not only bereaved
a large and fond family, but spread sorrow over a
wide circle of friends, and sadness through the na-

DOING AND SUFFERING. 39
tion. Heavy are the costs of war — " and heavy is
this affUction to Lady Frances and the children," ex
claimed Lady Huntington ; " but he has gone to the
great Captain of his salvation, to sing the wonders of
that love which hath redeemed him, and made Mm
meet for the saints in light." So does "hope in
Christ" point heavenward. Doddridge preached an
impressive sermon upon the occasion, which was
afterwards pubUshed, and a hundred copies sent to
liady Huntington for circulation. At a later date
appeared his well-known memoir, which has been
read and reread aU over the world.
Within less than a year. Lady Frances Gardiner
was called to reciprocate the sympathies of her
friend. Earl Huntington died of apoplexy on the
13th of October, 1746, at his mansion in Downing-
street, Westminstei, aged fifty, leaving his wife at
the age of thirty -nine in the sole charge of his family
and fortune. He was a man of unblemished charac
ter, and though not a believer in the distinctive the-
ology of his wife, he courteously entertained her re-
Ugious friends, and listened with admiration to the
eloquent preachers of that day. " The morality of
the Bible I admfre," he says, "but the doctrine of
the atonement I cannot understand."
His sisters were eminent for their piety, and Mar
garet became the wife of Rev. Benjamin Ingham,
whose preaching first led her to the Saviour. After
the earl's death, the famUy retired to Donnington
Park, where the countess spent in privacy the first
six months of her widowhood. Some extracts from

40 LADY HUNTINGTON.
her letters to Doddridge admit us to the inner sanc
tuary of her heart.
" I hope you will never care about the ceremony
of time in your letters to me, but just when attended
with greatest ease to yourself, for we both agree that
the one thing worth living for must be, proclaiming
the love of God to man in Christ Jesus. As for me,
I want no hoUness he does not give me ; I can wish
for no liberty but what he likes for me, and I am
satisfied with every misery he does not redeem me
from, that in aU things I may feel, 'without him I
can do nothing.'
" My family consists of two sons and as many
daughters ; for all of them I have nothing to do but
to praise God. The ohUdren of so many prayers and
tears, I doubt not shall one day be blest, your prayers
for us aU helping. The hint you gave me is great
matter of joy to me ; my soul longeth for grace.
" May the Lord give us all such love, to live and
to die to him, and for him alone. I am, with most
kind respects for Mrs. Doddridge, your most sincere,
but weak and unworthy friend, "S. H."
Again she writes, "Some important time is com
ing. Oh, might I hope it is that time when aU
things shall be swallowed up by the enlightening
and comforting displays of our glorious Redeemer's
kingdom. My hopes are not only full of immortal
ity, but of this. Your works are blessed, and God is
making you a polished shaft in his quiver. I want
every body to pray with you and for you, that you

DOING AND SUFFERING. 41
may wax stronger and stronger. I have had a letter
from Lord BoUngbroke, who says, ' I desire my com-
pUments and thanks to Dr. Doddridge, and I hope
I shaU continue to deserve his good opinion.' "
Dm-ing the lifetime of the earl. Lady Huntington's
time was necessarily engrossed by many cares, which
withheld her from the friends and the interests which
lay nearest to her heart. As mistress of his princely
mansions, she had duties to general society which
could not be sUghted ; respect and affection for him
controlled her private preferences, and without mak
ing her disloyal to her reUgious convictions, blended
her interests with his own. The tie is now broken :
she meekly bears the chastisement ; more than ever
she feels herself a stranger and a pUgrim in the pres
ent and outward world ; more than ever she feels
herself a subject of that spiritual kingdom which
Christ came to set up ; and henceforth we find un
folding that lofty energy of character, which has
identified her name with the revived Christianity of
her day. *
Returning again to society. Lady Huntington
may be seen journeying through Wales. The party
IS large, composed of her two daughters, her sisters
Anne and Frances Hastings, several clergymen, and
other religious friends. Is it a jaunt of pleasure ? a
tour of aimless excitement ? a seeing of new things for
the sake of kUUng time ?
Let us first pause and look around on the moral
wastes of this EngUsh soU. "While there was little
zeal in the great body of the clergy," says Southey,

42 LADY HUNTINGTON.
"many causes combined which rendered this want
of zeal more and more injurious. The population
had doubled since the settlement of the church un
der Elizabeth, yet no provision had been made for in
creasing proportionally the means of moral and re
ligious instruction, which in the beginning had been
insufficient. In reality, though the temporal advan
tages of Christianity extended to aU classes, the great
majority of the populace knew nothing more of re
ligion than its forms. They had been Papists for
merly, and now were Protestants, but they had never
been Christians. The Reformation had taken away
the ceremonies to which they were attached, and sub
stituted nothing in their stead. There was the Bible
indeed, but to the great body of the laboring people,
the Bible was even in the letter a sealed book."
Here then was the rudeness of the peasantry, the
brutality of the town populace, the prevalence of
drunkenness, the growth of impiety, a general dead-
ness to religion ; and it was this brutish ignorance,
this stiff-necked degradation, this famine of the word
of God and all means of moral elevation, which at
once demanded the labors of such men as Whitefield,
Wesley, and their coadjutors, and inspired them with
that resistless zeal which made thefr preaching Uke
the fire and the hammer upon the flinty rock. Every
where, on all sides, was spiritual ivant ; it was not
only seen among the abandoned, but felt in the
general indifference to religion among 'the mid
dling classes, in the sceptical spirit which pervaded
the higher, and the almost total lack of earnestness

DOING AND SUFFERING 43
in professed Christians, both among the clergy and
laity. What a demand for laborers on this harvest-field.
The single and uppermost thought of those raised up
of God and sent to these famishing multitudes was,
" To the rescue." Their simple and heartfelt mes
sage was, "Repent, and believe on the Lord Jesus
Christ." This was not only the pervading element
of the preachers, but also of private Christians. As
Christ came to seek and to save them which were
lost, so must his disciples go forth bearing his invita
tions of mercy, leading men from sin and shame to
those ways which are pleasantness, and to those paths
which are peace.
So felt Lady Huntington. Thei party set out
from Bath, and in its journey through Wales traveUed
slowly, stopping at the towns and vUlages on the route,
in order to give the preachers an opportunity of ad
dressing the people whenever a congregation could be
gathered. Multitudes flocked to hear them.
Indeed, the preachers knew something of their
hearers : one of them was Griffith Jones of Aber-
cowyn, author of a plan for instructing his country
men, known as the " Welsh circulating schools."
The ignorance and heathenism of the peasantry he
had deeply deplored. On his first settlement in
1711, before he admitted communicants, he began
by carefully examining them in Christian doctrine ;
but he sfebn found that those who most needed the
instruction, men grown up in ignorance, were un
willing to attend, because unable to answer the ques-

44 LADY HUNTINGTON.
tions put to them. He then fixed upon Saturday
before the communion for distributing to the poor
their supply of bread, bought with the money col
lected at the previous communion. These he gath
ered into a class, and by his great kindness of man
ner won their confidence and love, untU he at last
encouraged them to learn short lessons from the Bible.
Thus it became a custom among his poor parishioners
to repeat a verse' of Scripture on receiving their
monthly allowance of bread. By this direct and per
sonal intercourse with the poor, he learned how vague
and imperfect were their notions of Christianity, and
how little the Sabbath service could effect, without
the aid of other means of instruction. With this
data he resolved to act, and his first school was estab
lished in 1730 in one of his parishes, Llanddowror.
Another soon followed ; and these were attended with
results so obviously good, that he soon received the
cooperation of several efficient persons, and a generous
donation of Bibles and other books from the Society
for Promoting Christian Knowledge.
In ten years, one hundred and twenty-eight schools
were in operation, with nearly eight thousand per
sons taught to read the Scriptures in the Welsh lan
guage, catechized, instructed in psalmody, and under
the general supervision of Christian schoolmasters,
trying in various ways to promote their best good.
Griffith Jones was a popular as well as a faithful
preacher ; his greatest exceUence was " gavaelgar ar
y gydwybod," or a grasp on the conscience; and
accustomed as he had been to preaching-tours, and

DOING AND SUFFERING. 45
gray as he had grown in the service of his hardy
countrymen, his very presence was like the ringing
of the sabbath bells for the people to come and
hear. Beside him is a younger brother, a Welsh Boa
nerges, HowEL Harris. Greet him and cherish him,
for he deserves weU of those who love the Lord.
Though destined for the church, he received no seri
ous impressions until twenty-one, when this passage
from a sermon, " If you are unfit to visit the table of
the Lord, you are unfit to visit the church, you are
unfit to live and unfit to die," fastened powerfully
upon his conscience. On his way from church, meet
ing a person whom he had wronged, he instantly
confessed his fault and begged to be forgiven; and
though fears and remorse for a long tim« darkened
his soul, he stoutly determined to give himself to the
service of God, and began to warn his neighbors to
flee from the wrath to come. In 1735 he returned
to Oxford to complete his studies, but the immorali
ties of the university disgusted him, and he returned
home. He betook himself henceforth to the poor of
his native land. In the cottage and the field he is
preaching the doctrines of the cross. So many came
to him for instruction, that at the close of the year he
formed them into societies. " In the formation of
these," he tells us, " I followed the rules of Dr. Wood
ward, in a book written by him on the subject. Pre
viously to this, no societies of the kind had been
founded either in England or Wales. The EngUsh
Methodists had not beoome_ famous as yet, although,

46 LADY HUNTINGTON.
as I afterwards learned, several of them in Oxford
were at that time under strong religious influences,"
They were not organized either as Methodist or
dissenting congregations, nor indeed with any view
of their ever separating from the church. The revival
of religion in the church was his avowed purpose at
first, and his proposed object through life.
In 1739 Whitefield and Harris met for the first
time in the town-hall of Cardiff, where the former,
fresh from the glowing scenes of Bristol, poured forth
his impassioned eloquence to his Welsh auditory,
among whom was Howel Harris. Of the mutual
delight afforded by the interview, which immediately
afterwards took place, Whitefield said characteris
tically, " I doubt not Satan envied our happiness ;
but I hope by the help of God we shall make his
kingdom shake."
Such then were the men attached to Lady Hunt
ington's party. On arriving at Trevecca, Brecknock
shire, the birthplace of Howel Harris, they remained
several days, the preachers addressing, four or five times
a day, immense crowds, who came from aU the coun
try round about. Twenty years afterwards, Trevecca
was one of the principal centres of the countess'
influence. " On a review of all that I have seen and heard,"
exclaimed she, on their return home, " I am constrain
ed to cry, ' Bless the Lord, 0 my soul, and all that is
within me bless his holy name.' The sermons con
tained the most solemn and awful truths, such as the
utter ruin of man by the faU and his redemption by

DOING AND SUFFERING. 4T
the Lord Jesus Christ, the energetic declaration of
which produced quite a sensible effect on many,
who, there is reason to believe, were brought from
nature's darkness to the marvellous light of the all-
glorious gospel. My earnest prayer to God for them
is, that they may continue in his grace and truth."
Of a journey thus conducted, we cannot but regret
that the only memorials are the brief sketches of a
hastily penned journal by Lady Frances Hastings.
Though undertaken for the countess' health, it seems
really to have been a home missionary tour ; a rare
union, we may venture to assert, in those days as
weU as our own, when travelling, even among pro-
fessuig Christians, is too often a time for " casting off
fear and restraining prayer."
Not long after the countess' return, Doddridge
paid a visit to London. During his stay he thus
writes to his wife : "I can conclude by telling you
that I am at the close of one of the most pleasant
days I shall ever spend without you. After an hour's
charming conversation with Lady Huntington and
Mrs. Edwin, I preached in her family by express de
sire, and met Colonel Gumley, who is really a second
Colonel Gardiner. After dinner the ladies entertained
us with their voices and a harpsichord, with which I
was highly delighted ; and I have stolen a hymn
which I believe to have been written by good Lady
Huntington, and which I shall not fail to communi
cate to you. She s quite a mother to the poor ; she
visits them and prays with them in sickness, and
they leave their children to her for a legacy when

48 Lady huntington.
they die, and she takes care of them. I was really
astonished at the traces of religion which 1 discovered
in her and Mrs. Edwin, and cannot but glorify God
for them. More cheerfulness I never saw mingled
with so much devotion. Lady Frances Gardiner
sets out on Monday next. I have taken my lea\e
of her."

s^^n: i^'^iL;

WHITEFIELD. 49

CHAPTER IV.
WHITEFIELD.
In 1728 there was a young man struggling through
Oxford, paying his way as servitor at Pembroke col
lege. "At first he was rendered uncomfortable by
the society into which he was thrown : he had several
chamber-feUows, who would fain have made him join
in their riotous mode of life ; and as he could only
escape from their persecutions by sitting alone in his
study, he was sometimes benumbed with cold ; but
when they perceived the strength as weU as the sin
gularity of his character, they suffered him to take
his own way in peace."
Before he came to Oxford, he had heard of the
young men there "who lived by rule and method,"
and were therefore called Methodists. They were
now much talked of, and generally despised. He,
however, was drawn towards thenj by kindred feel
ings, defended them strenuously when he heard them
reviled, and when he saw them go through a jeering
crowd to receive the Lord's supper at St. Marys, was
strongly incUned to foUow their example. For more
than a year he yearned to be acquainted with them,
but it seems that a sense of his inferior condition kept
him back. At length the great object of his desires
was effected. A pauper had attempted suicide, and
be sent a poor woman to inform Charles Wesley, that

60 LADY HUNTINGTOI^.
he might visit the person and administer spiritual
medicine ; the messenger was charged not to say who
sent her ; contrary to these orders she told his name,
and Charles Wesley, who had seen him frequently
walking by himself, and heard something of his char
acter, invited him to breakfast the next morning. An
introduction to this little fellowship soon followed, and
he also, like them, "began to live by rule, and pick
up the very fragments of his time, that not a moment
of it might be lost."
This young man was George "Whitefield, and thus
has the graphic pen of Wesley's biographer described
his first introduction to that little society, whose mem
bers afterwards stamped their influence so broadly on
that and subsequent time.
After leaving Oxford and taking deacon's orders,
he began to preach at Bristol, and exhibit that impas
sioned eloquence which moved and melted both the
old world and the new. He preached about five times
a week to such congregations that it was with great
difficulty that he could make his way along the
crowded aisles to the reading-desk. "Some hung
upon the rails of the organ-loft, others climbed upon
the leads of the church, and aU together made the
church so hot with their breath, that the steam would
fall from the pillars like drops of rain." "When he
preached his farewell-sermon, and said to the people
that perhaps they might see his face no more, high and
low, old and young, burst into tears. Multitudes, after
the sermon, foUowed him home weeping ; the next
day he was employed from seven in the morning un-

WHITEFIELD. 51
til midnight in talking and giving spiritual advice to
awakened hearers ; and he left Bristol secretly in the
middle of the night, to avoid the ceremony of being
escorted by horsemen and coaches out of the town.
"WhUe at London it was necessary to place con
stables at the doors, both within and without, such
multitudes assembled ; and on Sunday mornings m
the latter months of the year, long before day, you
might have seen the streets fUled with people going
to hear him, with lanterns in thefr hands.
" The man who produced such extraordinary
effects," says Southey, "had many natural advan
tages. He was something above the middle stature,
well proportioned, though at this time slender, and
remarkable for a native gracefulness of manner. His
complexion was very fair, his eyes small and lively, of
a dark blue color ; in recovering from the measles, he
had contracted a squint with one of them, but this
peculiarity rather rendered the expression of his coun
tenance more remarkable, than in any degree lessened
the effect of its uncommon sweetness. His voice
excelled both in melody and compass, and its fine
modulations were happily accorripanied by that grace
of action which he possessed in an eminent degree,
and which has been said to be the chief requisiie of
an orator." Garrick said he could make men weep
or tremble at his varied utterance of the word Meso
potamia. To these natural gifts and graces was added a
deep conviction of the greatness and the grandeur of
his calling, as a messenger of God. His maxim was

82 LADY HUNTINGTON.
to preach as ApeUes painted, for eternity. When a
young man. Dr. Delany once remarked in his hear
ing, "I wish, whenever I go into the pulpit, to look
upon it as the last time that I may ever preach, or
the last time the people may hear." This, Whitefield
never forgot. He often said, " Would ministers preach
for eternity, they would act the part of true Christian
orators, for then they would endeavor to move the
affections and warm the heart, and not constrain their
hearers to suspect that they dealt in the false com
merce of unfelt truth." *
Whitefield broke away from the popularity thus
strongly flowing in upon him, to follow his beloved
college companions the Wesleys to the new world ;
but not, as he expected, to labor with them in Georgia,
for the ship which carried hun sailed from the Downs
only a few hours before that which brought Wesley
home anchored on the English coast.
He remained a year in Georgia, where he seems
aot to have experienced any of those peculiar trials
which hindered the usefulness of Wesley. He returned
to England in 1739, in order to receive priest's
orders and to raise contributions for the establishment
of an orphan-house at Bethesda, twelve miles from
Savannah, after the famous model of Professor Franke's
in Halle ; the history and success of which seems to
have created a profound interest among the Christians
of that day, when charitable institutions of any
magnitude scarcely existed, and long before the
groat religious associations of our time had been con
ceived.

WHITEFIELD. 63
Among the news of this period, the celebrated
Countess of Hereford thus writes to a friend on the
continent : "I do not know whether you have heard
of a new sect, who call themselves Methodists. There
is one Whitefield at the head of them, a young man
of five and twenty, who has for some months gone
about preaching in the fields and market-places in
the country, and in London at May-fair and Moor
fields, to ten or twelve thousand people at a time. He
went to Georgia with General Oglethorpe, and returned
to take priest's orders, which he did; and I beUeve
since that time hardly a day has passed that he has
not preached once, and generally twice. At first, he
and some of his brethren seemed only to aim at restor
ing the practice of the primitive Christians as to daily
sacraments, stated fasts, frequent prayers, relieving
prisoners, visiting the sick, and giving alms to the
poor ; but upon sound men refusing these men thefr
pulpits, they have betaken themselves to preaching
in the fields, and they have such crowds of foUowers,
that they have set in a flame all the clergy in the
kingdom, who represent them as hypocrites and en
thusiasts. As to the latter epithet, some passages in
Mr. Whitefield's latest journals seem to countenance
the accusation ; but I think their manner of living
has not afforded any grounds td suspect them of
hypocrisy. The Bishop of London, however, has
thought it necessary to write a pastoral letter to warn
the people of his diocese against being led away by
them ; and Dr. Trapp has published a sermon upon ' the
great foUy and danger of being righteous overmuch,'

54 LADY HUNTINGTON.
a doctrine which does not seem absolutely necessary
to be preached to the people of the present age."
It was not until his second visit to America and
return to England, that difference of theological views
began to cloud the friendship which had subsisted
between the two distinguished preachers, Whitefield
and John Wesley. We should approach the rupture
with sadness, only as such things "must needs be"
in our present state of imperfect knov/ledge and feeble
grace. While the storm was brewing, " My honored friend
and brother," wrote WTiitefield to Wesley, "for once
hearken to a child, who is wUling to wash your feet.
I beseech you, by the mercies of God in Christ Jesus
our Lord, if you would have my love confirmed towards
you, write no more to me about the misrepresentations
wherein we differ. Why should we dispute, when
there is no possibUity of convincing ? WUl it not in the
end destroy brotherly love, and insensibly take from
us that cordial union and sweetness of soul, which I
pray God may always subsist between us ? How glad
would the enemies of the Lord be to see us divided.
How would the cause of our common Master every
way suffer by our raising disputes about particular
points of doctrine. Honored sfr, let us offer salvation
freely to aU by the blood of Jesus, and whatever light
(rod has communicated to us, let us freely communi
cate to others."
Happy were it for the Christian world, if the ad-
mfrable temper of this letter could govern its divided
friends and clashing sects ; but admirable as it was.

WHITEFIELD. 55
and however it might have conciliated the resolute
and uncompromising spfrit of Wesley, the breach
widened, for on both sides there were friends and
followers who fanned the flame, and Whitefield after
wards wrote in an altered and recriminating tone.
With such questions at issue, involving points of
doctrine which no human inteUect has ever mastered,
a rupture became inevitable. When "Whitefield re
turned to the scene of his early triumphs, " he came
to his own, and his own received him not." His
Kingswood school was in the hands of Wesley ; and
at London a temporary shed, called the Tabernacle,
served to shelter his spfritual chUdren since their
exodus from the foundry. At this period "Whitefield
says sadly, " The world is angry with me, and num
bers of my own spfritual children.^ Some say, that
God wUl destroy me in a fortnight, and that my fall
wiU be as great as Peter's. Scarce one comes to see
me from morning tiU night, and on Kensington com
mon I have not above a hundred to hear me. I am
much embarrassed in my cfrcumstances. A thou
sand pounds I owe for the orphan-house. I am threat
ened to be arrested for two hundred pounds more.
My traveUing expenses also are to be defrayed. A
famUy of one hundred to be daUy maintained, four
thousand imles off, in the dearest place of the king's
dominions — aU my work is to begin again."
Thefr counsels divided and thefr ranks broken,
there seemed to be a weak betrayal of thefr Master's
cause. Were the ApoUoses and Cephases thus to
come in and assert their shallow claims, and plunder

56 LADY HUNTINGTON.
the church of her men and means ? It was not so
to be. In spite of the dissents and jarrings which must
needs come, the leaders of that day more truly com
prehended thefr mission ; thefr spfritual gains were
not to be scattered, nor their spiritual strength wast
ed in a bitter household squabble : there was a wor
thier work for them. Whitefield and Wesley loved each
other, and the soul of each glowed with the warm
charities of the gospel ; they loved a common Master,
whose cause lay nearest thefr hearts, and whUe each
proclaimed its great normal principle, salvation by a
crucified Redeemer, with a loving earnestness, each
linked with it his own pecuUar system of doctrines.
When we see the chafing and champing of world
ly and sometimes, even reUgious men at the ebbing
of thefr popularity, it is encouraging to turn to one
who not only knew the solidity of his own principles,
but could steadUy anchor on them and calmly take
the surges and the spray.
"What is a little scourge of the tongue?" says
Whitefield. "What is a thrusting out of the syna
gogue ? The time of temptation wUl be, when we
are thrust into an inner prison and feel the iron enter
ing into our souls. God's people may be permitted
to forsake us for a while, but the Lord Jesus can
stand by us. And if thou, 0 dearest Redeemer,
wUt strengthen me in my inward man, let enemies
plunge me into a fiery furnace, or throw me into a
den of lions. Let us suffer for Jesus with a cheerful
heart. His love will sweeten every cup, though never

WHITEFIELD. 57
so bitter. May aU disputing soon cease, and each of
us talk of nothing but Him crucified: this is my
resolution." And his Ufe corresponded to it, in adversity as
weU as in prosperity. Herein was the singleness of
Whitefield's piety : one aim governed and sustained
him through a long and laborious career — and it was
preaching Christ.
At what time Lady Huntington first became
acquainted with "Whitefield does not appear. On her
return from Wales, he was expected in England from
his third visit to America. When he landed at Deal,
she immediately sent Howel Harris to bring him to
her own house in Chelsea, where he preached to large
cfrcles of the gay world, who thronged this fashion
able watering-place. For the benefit of this class of
hearers, she soon after removed to London, appointed
Whitefield her chaplain, and during the winter of
1748 and '49 opened her splendid mansion in Park-
street for the mirustrations of the gospel.
" Good Lady Huntington," writes he, "has come
to town, and I am to preach twice a week at her
house to the great and noble. 0 that some of them
might be effectually called to taste the riches of re
deeming love." On the day appointed, Chesterfield,
Bolingbroke, and a cfrcle of the nobUity attended;
and having heard him once, they desired to come
again. " Lord Chesterfield thanked me," he says.
" Lord Bolingbroke was moved, and asked me to
come and see him the next morning. My hands have
been fuU of work, and I have been among great com-

5S LADY HUNIIHGTON.
pany. AU accepted my sermons. Thus the world
turns round : ' In all time of my wealth, good Lord,
deliver me.'' "
Although "Whitefield used the current compliments
of address common to that period, more fulsome then
than now in England, and at either time sounding
oddly enough to us on this side of the Atlantic, he
never betrayed his office as the minister of God, but
warned, rebuked, and exhorted men with aU fidelity,
as well as with aU affection.
"As iox praying in your family, I entreat you
not to neglect it," he said to the old Scotch Marquis
of LotlUan, who would fain have been Uke Nicodemus,
a Christian in the dark. "You are bound to do it.
Apply to Christ to overcome your present fears ; they
are the effects of pride or infideUty, or both."
The death-bed of Lord St. John, who was one of
the hearers of this parlor preaching, exhibited scenes
unusual in the cfrcle where he moved : the Bible was
read to him, and his cry was, "God be merciful to
me a sinner !" " My Lord Bolingbroke," wrote Lady
Huntington to "Whitefield, "was much struck with
his brother's language in his last moments. 0 that
his eyes might be opened by the Uluminating influence
of divine truth. He is a singularly awful character ;
and I am fearfuUy alarmed, lest the gospel which he
so heartily despises, yet affects to reverence, should
prove the savor of death unto death to him. Some,
I trust, are savingly awakened, while many are in
quiring ; thus the great Lord of the harvest hath
put honor on your ministry, and hath given my heart

WHITEFIELD. 69
an encouraging token of the utUity of our feeble
efforts." Under her auspices, a prayer-meeting was estab
lished for those females who, from the circles of rank
and fashion, became the foUowers of the Lord. Among
these were Lady Frances Gardiner, Lady Mary Ham-
Uton, daughter of the Marquis of Lothian, who had
attended the ministry of Whitefield in Scotland, Lady
Gertrude Hotham and Countess DeUtz, sisters of
Lady Chesterfield, Lady Chesterfield herself, and
Lady Fanny Shfrley, of whom Horace Walpole wrote
in his scoffing way to a friend on the continent, " If
you ever think of returning to England, you must
prepare yourself with Methodism : this sect increases
as fast as ever almost any other reUgious nonsense did.
Lady Fanny Shfrley has chosen this way of bestow
ing the dregs of her beauty, and Mr. Lyttleton is very
near making the same sacrifice of the dregs of all
those various characters that he has worn. The
Methodists love your big sinners, and indeed they
have a plentiful harvest."
" There needed," said one, " strong consolation in
order to resist' the strong temptations presented by a
frivolous court, a witty peerage, and a learned bench
in favor of a formal reUgion. Nothing but the 'joy
of the Lord' could have sustained them in such a
sphere. Happiness in reUgion was the best security
for thefr holiness. They could not be laughed out of
a good hope through grace. Wit or banter may make
persisting a weakness or a fancy, but they cannot
make hope, peace, and joy appear absurd. Neither

60 LADY HUNTINGTON.
the severe denunciations of Warburton, or the polish
ed sarcasm of Chesterfield, could touch the conscious
ness of peace in believing, or of enjoyment ui secret
prayer, in the hearts of those peeresses who had found
at the cross and the mercy-seat the happiness they
had sought in vain from the world."
" ReUgion was never so much the subject of con
versation as now," writes Lady Huntington to Dod
dridge. " Some of the great ones hear with me the
gospel patiently, and thus much seed is sown by Mr.
Whitefield's preaching. 0 that it may faU on good
ground, and bring forth abundantly.
" I had the pleasure, yesterday, of Mr. Gibbon's
and Mr. Crittenden's company to dine with me. Lord
Lothian and Lady Frances Gardiner gave them the
meeting, and we had truly a most primitive and heaven
ly day ; our hearts and voices praised the Lord, prayed
to him, and talked of him. I had another lady pres
ent, whose face, since I saw you last, is turned Zion-
ward. Of the 'honorable women,' I trust there are not
a few ; patience shall have its proper work : and if
we love our Lord, we must be tender over his lambs.
I trust Pie will assist us to keep fanning the flame in
every heart ; this, my friend, is our joyful task for the
best Master we can serve, either in time or eternity.
Do not let our hands hang down ; we must wrestle
for ourselves and for all dead in their sins, tUl the day
break and the shadows of time flee away."
While thus soUcitous for the spiritual welfare of
those of her own rank, no less interested is she in her
humbler neighbors ; to them her house was constantly

WHITEFIELD. 61
opened, that they also might be enriched by "that
faith which comes by hearing." On week-days her
kitchen was filled by the poor of the flock, whom she
supplied with all the means of religious profit which
lay in her power.
MeanwhUe good and evil tidings come from Wales
The winter campaign of Howel Harris is attended
with stormy weather. The gentry frown, the mag
istrates bristle, whUe the poor people, who hunger for
his " good words," are sorely oppressed, nay, griev
ously tormented. On one excursion he did not take
off his clothes for seven days and nights, being obliged
to meet his Uttle congregation in solitary places at
midnight, or by daylight in ravine or cleft, in order
to avoid the persecuting vigUance of their enemies.
" One man," says Harris, " was obliged to pay Sir
Watkins Wynn twenty shiUings, several of my poor
hearers five shUUngs, and one who paid the same
sum before, was fined seven shUlings more ; and this
is the third time my poor sheep of this fold have been
thus served."
When the matter came to Lady Huntington's
knowledge, indignant at the injustice and bigotry of
Sfr Watkins Wynn, with characteristic energy she
instantly made a representation to the government
of his infringement of the Act of Toleration ; the
magistrates were rebuked by the higher law, and Sir
Watkins was ordered to return the fines to the pockets
of the sufferers.
Honorable exceptions, however, were there among
the Welsh magistrates. Harris having made an ap-

02 LADY HUNTINGTON.
pointment to meet the peasantry near Garth, in Bre-
conshire, the residence of Sfr Marmaduke Gwynne,
that gentleman, frightened by the reports concerning
him, resolved on the occasion to do his duty as a
magistrate, and stop proceedings of so disorderly and
mobbish a character. Regarding the missionary as
neither more nor less than a firebrand to church and
state, Mr. Magistrate Gwynne prepared for a reso
lute attack, but wisely enough said to his family on
going out, " I '11 first hear the man myself, before
I commit him." Accordingly he mingled with the
congregation, lying in wait to pounce upon the
preacher at every next word. " Why, he 's neither
more nor less than an apostle," cried Gwynne in
wardly, his stout heart melting under the manner
and earnest language of the man of God. The riot
act lay asleep in his pocket, and at the end of the
discourse he marched up to the rude platform, shook
the preacher warmly by the hand, confessed his
intention, asked his pardon, bade him preach while
he lived, and took him back to Garth to supper.
Henceforth the countenance of the Gwynne famUy
smUed on the new movements. Regardless of public
or private censure, Sfr Marmaduke stood stoutly up
for the evangeUsts, and used all his mfluence for pro
moting the spread of the gospel in the regions round
about. One of his daughters afterv/ards married
Charles Wesley.
In February, 1749, Whitefield left London a short
time to recruit amid scenes less exciting, for rest he
never knew. Lady Huntington goes to CliPtcn. Her

V/HITEFIELD. 63
oldest son has become of age, and as Earl Hunting
ton, takes possession of Donnington park, Ledstone
haU, with other patrimony belonging to his title. He
then set out upon the fashionable continental tour.
At Paris he is warmly greeted by the most distin
guished EngUsh residents, particularly introduced as
he is by Lord Chesterfield, who pronounces him "one
of the first peers of England, with merit and talents
equal to his birth."
Lady EUzabeth Hastings, the countess' eldest
daughter, much admfred for her grace, vivacity, and
abiUties, in March of this year was appointed "lady
of the bedchamber" to the princesses Amelia and Car
oline, sisters of George HI. She remained in office
but a few months. In relation to it Horace Walpole
said, " The queen of the Methodists got her daughter
named for lady of the bedchamber to the princesses ;
but it is aU off again, as she will not let her play
cards on Sunday."

04 LADY HUNTINGTON.

CHAPTER V.

ROMAINE— ALARMS.

Here comes one with quick, elastic step ; his eye
is keen ; his thin, yet strongly lined face is surmounted
by a gray wig somewhat smitten by the hand of
time ; his plain, and certainly not poUshed manners,
are perhaps in keeping with the blue suit and coarse
blue yarn stockings, in which he is usuaUy seen ; he
cannot stop for all the elaborate courtesies of life, for
manifold cares and duties eat up his time, which he
is bent on using wisely, as one who must give ac
count. Behold Rev. WUliam Romaine, curate of St.
Dunstans and St. Georges, Hanover-square, London,
whose searching and pungent appeals were at once
the scorn and the delight of multitudes, and whose
" Walk of Faith" held a prominent place tin the book
shelves of our fathers fifty years ago.
He was at Oxford with Whitefield and the Wes
leys, whom on account of thefr religious strictness
and singularity he then avoided and despised. What
ever might have been his literary hopes or ambitious
longings, he was the child of prayer, and trained
by beUeving parents for the service of God. Thor
oughly instructed in the doctrines of the cross, he at
length cordially embraced them, and the unfeigned
faith which dwelt in his parents now became a living
principle within his own bosom.

ROMAINE. 65
Having taken orders, he occasionaUy preached, but
for seven years his time had been chiefly occupied m
preparing for the press a new edition of the Hebrew
Concordance and Lexicon of Marius de Calasio; and
it was to further its progress with the printers that
we find him in London in 1747, then thirty-three
years of age. Having completed his arrangements, he
determined to return to the north of England, where
his friends resided, and where he was best known.
His trunk was on shipboard, and he was hurriedly
threading his way through the bustle of Cheapside
on his route to the quay, when a stranger suddenly
stopped him and asked if his name were not Ro
maine. " That is my name," answered the aston
ished young man. " I knew your father, and I saw
at a glance the father's look in the son," continued
the gentleman. The two stood and talked. Before
parting the stranger spoke of his interest in the
vacant parishes of St. George and St. Botolph, and
offered to exert it in his behalf; and thus, on this
chance and abrupt meeting, did the young preacher
pause and make choice of his destiny for Ufe.
" Had not Mr. Romaine met tliis stranger — ^had
not the stranger been instantly struck with the son's
resemblance to his father — had he not accosted him
with a curiosity for which probably he himself could
give no reason — ^had he passed a moment sooner or
later — had the lectureship not been vacant — ^had not
the cor*8rsation led to the cause of Mr. Romaine's
leaving— in short," says Dr. Haweis, " if a thousand
unforeseen cfrcumstances had not concurred just at

66 LADY HUNTINGTON.
that critical moment, the labors of that great reviver of
evangelical truth in the churches of London, humanly
speaking, had been lost to the metropolis, and v/ith
it aU the blessed consequences of his ministry, which
thousands have experienced, and for which they will
bless God to all eternity."
Thus doeth He who holds the thread of every
cfrcumstance : we are the web of his own great pur
poses. A general alarm prevaUed in London at this time,
1749, for fear of coming judgments. The universal
corruption of morals, the mocking spfrit of irreUgion,
and the heartlessness and hoUovsness of society on
one side, the bold rebukes, the searching appeals, the
fearless denunciations of the new preachers on the
other, united with the report of earthquakes desolat
ing and destroymg on the continent, conspfred to
kindle in the public mind a consciousness of deserved
wrath, and a fearful apprehension of approaching
calamities. There are times when whole communi
ties are thus startled into a sense of God, and great
fears lay hold upon them. The shocks of earth
quake were now more sensibly felt in London than
for many years. Blouses were shaken, chimneys were
thrown down, multitudes left the city, while crowds
fled for safety to the open fields. Tower-hUl, Kenning-
ton-oommon, and Moorfields were thronged with men,
women, and children. Places of worship became
crowded. The Wesleys preached incessantly, and
Whitefield went out one time at midnight to address
a dismayed and affrighted multitude in Hyde-park.

ALARMS. 67
Romaine also was intent upon improving these sol
emn opportunities. In addition to his forcible appeals
from the pulpit, and his faithful conversations in pri
vate, he pubUshed "An Alarm to the Careless World,"
which might speak where his voice could never reach.
A sermon also appeared from the pen of Dr. Dod
dridge, entitled, " The GuUt and Doom of Caper
naum seriously recommended to the Inhabitants of
London." "You have now, sfrs," he says in the preface,
"very lately had repeated and surprising demonstra
tions of the almighty power of that infinite and ador
able Being, whom in the midst of your hurries and
amusements you are so ready to forget. His hand
hath once and again, within these five weeks, lifted
up your mighty city from its basis, and shook its mUl-
ion of inhabitants in their dwellings. The palaces
of the great, nay, even of the greatest, have not been
exempted, that the princes of the land might be wise,
and its judges and lawgivers might receive instruc
tion. And is not the voice of this earthquake like that
of the angel in the Apocalypse, flying in the midst of
heaven, and having the everlasting gospel, saying with
a loud voice, ' Fear God, and give glory to him, and
worship him that made heaven and earth ?' "
"I suppose what you have so lately felt, to be the
result of natural causes ; but remember, they were
causes disposed by Him who, from the day in which
he founded our island and laid the foundations of the
earth, knew every cfrcumstance of thefr operation
with infinitely more certainty than the most skUful

68 LADY HUNTINGTON.
engineer the disposition and success of a mine which
he hath prepared and dfrected, and which he ffres
in the appointed moment. And do not your hearts
meditate terror ? Especially when you consider how
much London hath done, and even you yourselves have
done, to provoke the eyes of his hoUness and awaken
the vengeance of his almighty arm ? The second
shook, it seems, was more dreadful than the first;
and may not the thfrd be yet more dreadful than the
second ? So that this last may seem as a merciful
signal to prepare for what may with the most ter
rible propriety be called an untimely grave indeed —
a grave that shall receive the living with the dead.
Think what you have lately felt ; and think whether
in that 'amazing moment you could have done any
thing material to prepare for another world, if eternity
had depended upon that momentary preparation. A
shriek of wUd consternation, a cry as you were sink
ing, ' The Lord have mercy on iig !' would proba
bly have been of very little significancy to those that
have so long despised mercy, and would not have
thought of asking it but in the last extremity."
"Oh London, London," cries the preacher in his
sermon, "dear city of my birth and education, seat oi
so many of my friends, seat of our princes and sena
tors, centre of our commune, heart of our island
which must feel and languish and tremble and die
with thee, how art thou Ufted up to heaven; how
high do thy glories rise, and how bright do they shine !
How great is thy magnfficence ; how extensive thy
commerce ; how numerous, how free, how happy

ALARMS. 69
thine inhabitants ; how happy, above aU, in thefr
reUgious opportunities ; how happy in the uncor-
rupted gospel, so long and so faithfuUy preached in
thy synagogues I But while we survey these heights
of elevation, must we not tremble lest thou shouldst
faU so much the lower, lest thou shouldst plunge so
much the deeper in ruin ?
"My situation, sirs, is not such as renders me
most capable of judging concerning the moral charac
ter of this our celebrated metropoUs. But who can
hear what seem the most credible reports of it, and
not take an alarm ? Whose spirit must not, like that
of Paul at Athens, be stfrred, when he sees the city so
abandoned to profaneness, luxury, and vanity ? Is it
indeed false, all that we hear ? Is it indeed accidental,
aU that we see ? Is London wronged, when it is said
that great Ucentiousness reigns among most of its
inhabitants, and" great indolence and indifference to
reUgion, even among those who are not licentious?
that assembUes for divine worship are much neglect
ed, or frequented with little appearance of seriousness
or solemnity, whUe assemblies for pleasure are throng
ed, and attended with such eagerness that all the
heart and soul seems to be given to them rather than
to God ; that the Sabbath, instead of being religiously
observed, is given to jaunts of pleasure into neighbor
ing villages, or wasted on beds of sloth, or at tables
of excess ; that men of every ranli are ambitious of
appearing to be something more than they are, grasp
ing at business they cannot manage, entering into
engagements they cannot answer, and so, after a vain

70 LADY HUNTINGTON.
and contemptible blaze, drawing bankruptcy upfn
themselves and others ? that the poorer sort are
grossly ignorant, wretchedly depraved, and aban
doned to the most brutal sensualities and infirmities :
while those who would exert any remarkable zeal to
remedy these evUs, by introducing a deep and warm
sense of religion into the minds of others, are suspected
and censured as whimsical and enthusiastical, if not
designing men? in a word, that the reUgion of our
divine Master is by multitudes of the great and the
vulgar openly renounced and blasphemed ? Men and
brethren, are these things indeed so ? I take not upon
me to answer absolutely that they are ; but I wiU
venture to say, that if they are indeed thus, London,
as rich and grand and glorious as it is, has reason to
tremble, and to tremble so much the more for its
abused riches, grandeur, and glory."
While some of the preachers were thus careful to
improve the general alarm by a vigorous enforcement
of divine truth, there were multitudes of the people
no less anxious for spfritual instruction. St. George's,
v^here Ptomaine preached, was thronged ; and of this,
some of the regular parishioners grievously complam-
ed. The old E arl of Northampton reminded them that
they bore the greater crowd of a balfroom, an assem
bly, and a playhouse, without inconvenience or com
plaint ; "and if," said he, "the power to attract be
imputed as a matter of admiration to Garrick, why
should it be urged as a crime against Romaine ?
ShaU exceUence be exceptionable only in divme
thmgs ?"

ALARMS. 71
But the thing was not to be borne. If the parish
ioners could bear the preaching of the curate, the
rector would not. Zeal in the preacher was at that
time looked upon, in certain quarters, as one of the
unpardonable sins of the pulpit ; for it reflected dis
credit upon a large body of the clergy, and whether
he meant it or not, was a rebuke upon the dead and
formal ministry of his brethren. Romaine was there
fore summarUy dismissed from his curacy. Turned out
of St.*George's, but reluctant to part from many of his
parishioners, he ventured to meet them at the house
of one of thefr number ; for which alleged irregularity
he was threatened with prosecution from the eccle
siastical com-t. On learning this, Lady Huntington
immediately invited him to her house in Park-street,
offered him her scarf, and made him her chaplain.
Thus shielded by a peeress of the realm, he continued
his labors, more vigorously than ever, for the spirit
ual good of his fellows. Romaine was at this time
thirty-five years of age.
"God has been terribly shaking the metropolis,"
wrote Whitefield to Lady Huntington. " I hope it is an
earnest of his giving a shook to secure sUmers, and
making them to cry out, 'What shaU we do to be
saved?' I trust, honored madam, you have been
brought to believe on the Lord Jesus. What a mercy
is this : to be plucked as a brand from the burning,
to be one of those few mighty and noble that are
caUed effectually by the grace of God. What can
shake a soul whose hopes are fixed on the Rook of
ages ? Winds may blow, rains may and wUl descend

7-2 LADY HUNTINGTON.
even upon persons in tho most exalted stations, but
they that trust in the Lord never shall, never can be
totaUy confounded."
As the season advances, we turn from the excit
ing scenes of the metropolis, from its din and deprav
ity, to the green lawns and hawthorn hedges of the
country. We hear the lark,
"  Blithe spirit,
Pouring its full heart
In profuse strains of unpremeditated art;''
we cross the Ouse, perhaps at Olney, and see " display
ed its lilies newly blown ;" and following Whitefield,
find him at Northampton in the hospitable home of
Dr. Doddridge. The famous and somewhat unquiet
visitor cannot disturb the sweet accord of the minis
ter's family, though the children gather around him,
drawn by the tender warmth of his love for them.
How vividly he tells the story of his London labors^
and of the good countess whom their father loves ,
or perhaps he recounts his travels among the wild
forests and the tall red men of the new world, to
which they listen with eager mterest ; or perhaps he
discourses with the parents upon the marvellous works
of God, or urges upon the young men of the academy ¦
the glorious gospel of his blessed Lord, But private
ministrations are not for him. On a Tuesday morn
ing we find him preaching to Doddridge's famUy, and
in the afternoon to above two thousand people in the
neighboring field.
Hervey comes to welcome him, James Hervey,
one of the Oxford band, now curate in the little vil-

DR. STONEHOUSE. 73
lage of Weston Favell, so near Northampton that he
and Doddridge may often thread the green lanes to
each other's houses and take sweet counsel in heav
enly things. Hervey is pale and attenuated, but great
men find thefr way to his retfred church, for his works
are admfred among the literary cfrcles of the land.
On this side of the waters he is best known as
the author of " Meditations in a Graveyard," once a
popular Uttle volume, but now cast in the shade less
for the serious tone of it, than for its afry flights of
style. Hervey's heart glows while "Whitefield talks.
" Surely, I never spent a more deUghtful evening,"
exclaimed he, "or saw one that seemed to make
nearer approaches to the feUcity of heaven. A gentle
man of great worth and rank invited us to his house
and gave us an elegant treat ; but how mean was his
provision, how coarse his deUcacies, compared with the
fruit of my friend's lips. They dropped as a honey
comb, and were a well of life."
Dr. Stonehouse is also of the company, once Dod
dridge's beloved famUy physician, now a physician of
souls. An avowed infidel when he ffrst came to
Northampton, the preaching, conversation, writings,
and counsels both of Doddridge and Hervey led him
to reconsider the ground upon which he stood, discover
his perUous condition, and flee to Jesus Christ for ref
uge from the wrath to come. He afterwards settled at
Great and Little Cheveril, WUts, where he became the
spfritual guide of Hannah More, and the "Mr. John
son" of her admfrable and far-famed tract, " The Shep
herd of Salisbury Plain." After the death of his wife

74 LADY HUNTINGTON.
he married Miss Ekins, a tenderly beloved ward ol
Dr. Doddridge, "whose account of her expenses and
estate was so just," says the husband on receiving tho
property of his bride, " that he really did not do jus
tice to himself, in consequence of which we made his
widow a handsome present for his undercharges."
MeanwhUe Lady Huntington is at Ashby de la
Zouch, in Leicestershfre, one of the manors belong
ing to Lord Huntington's famUy, a day's journey from
Northampton, if the lumbering vehicles of a hundred
years ago could make fifty mUes a day. Here were
the ladies Hastings, Frances, Anne, and Betty. After
a while, Doddridge pays her a visit. On Sabbath
forenoon he preached, whUe her domestic chaplain read
the service ; in the evening the order was reversed,
Doddridge prayed and the chaplain preached. " This
is a true catholic spirit," exclaims the countess, "that
wishes well to the cause of Christ in every denomi
nation. I wish all the dissenting ministers were Uke-
minded, less attached to little punctUios, and more
determined to pubUsh the glorious gospel wherever
men are assembled to hear, whether in a church, a
meeting-house, a field, or a barn — less anxious to con
vince their brethren in errors of discipline, and more
soUoitous to gather souls to Christ."
Whitefield in his rounds at length halts at Ashby.
"And Ashby-place is Uke a Bethel," he exclaims;
'¦ we have the sacrament every morning, heavenly
conversation all day, and preaching at night. This is
to live at court mdeed." Does not this picture remind
us of the primitive Christians, when tliey continued

WHITEFIELD. 75
daUy with one accord in the temple, breaking bread
from house to house, eating thefr meat with gladness
and singleness of heart, and praising God ?
But the spfrit and the preaching of Ashby-place
did not suit the humor of the neighborhood. Riotous
proceedings took place on various occasions, inflamed,
it was said, by the dissenters ; perhaps "Whitefield
comes nearer the truth when Jie exclaims, " Alas, how
great and irreconcUable is the enmity of the serpent."
The countess' house is threatened with ruin, and some
persons on thefr way home narrowly escaped being
murdered. "Ungrateful Ashby," cries Whitefield,
" 0 that thou knewest the day of thy visitation. I
shaU be glad to hear what becomes of the rioters.
0 that your ladyship may Uve to see many of those
Ashby stones become chUdren to Abraham."
To Lady Gertrude Hotham, one of his London
converts, he wrote, " Good Lady Huntington is weak
in body, but strong in grace. Thousands and thou
sands flock to hear the word twice every day, and the
power of God has attended it in a glorious manner.
But the good people of Ashby were so kind as to mob
round her ladyship's door while the gospel was preach
ing. Ashby is not worthy of so rich a pearl. You
and Lady Fanny were constantly remembered at
Ashby at the holy table."
Whitefield staid here a fortnight, continuing in
stant in season and out of season in his Master's work,
when he took leave and pushed on towards the north.
As maUs were not carried by coaches in England
until nearly thirty years after this time, we may sup-

76 LADY HUNTINGTON.
pose there was little public accommodation for travel
lers. People went in their own conveyances. Let us
take a look at Whitefield, as his carriage drj-ves out
of Ashby on the road to Nottingham, drawn by a
favorite pafr of handsome black horses, doing credit
to their keeping at the Ashby stables. It was on this
journey, whUe he was preaching at Kendal, surround
ed by a Ustening multitude, that some of the baser
sort, honoring the preacher in thefr -own way, enter
ed the barn where his carriage was housed, hacked
the leather, abused the trimmings, and cut off the
horses' taUs. " StUl," he observes, " God vouchsafes
to prosper the gospel plough. Such an entrance has
been made at Kendal as could not have been ex
pected. The people are importunate that I should
return again, and the power of the Lord has been
wonderfully displayed."
At Nottingham, he was attended by gi-eat multi
tudes, who thronged every avenue to the place appoint
ed for him to preach in; in some places, " Satan ral
lied," he says, " giving notice of me by calling the
people to a bear-baiting : a drum is beat, and men are
called to the market-place ; but the arrows of the
Lord can disperse them." It was at Rotherham that
several young men met at a tavern, and undertook on
a wager to see who could best mimic him ; each in
turn mounted the table, and opening a Bible, enter
tained his companions at the expense of every thing
sacred. A youth by the name of Thorpe was to close
the scene ; and he exclaimed, on taking his stand, " I
shall beat you all." Opening the Bible, his eye feU on

WHITEFIELD. 77
the solemn sentence, "Except ye repent, ye shall all
Ukewise perish." It pierced the young man's soul.
The truth mastered him. He spoke, but it was like
a dying man to dying men. A profound seriousness
spread over the company, and those who came to
scoff" went away to weep. He afterwards became a
preacher, and for many years faithfuUy ministered in
holy things ; and his son. Rev. WilUam Thorpe, was
for a long time one of the stated supplies of the White-
field chapel in London.
"Whitefield visited Aberford, the residence of Ing
ham and Lady Margaret, where Ingham and Grim-
.shaw joined him on his tour in Yorkshire. From
Leeds he writes to Lady Huntington, "Last night I
preached to many, many thousands, and this morn
ing also at five o'clock. Methinks I am now got into
another cUmate. It must be a warm one, where
there are so many of God's people. Our pentecost is
to be kept at Mr. Grimshaw's. While at Haworth,
Mr. Grimshaw's curacy, the Lord's supper was fre
quently administered not only to the stated commu
nicants, but to hundreds from other quarters, who
resorted hither on these solemn occasions, when if
seemed emphaticaUy, that the " Spirit was poured out
from on high." " Pen," he writes to Hervey, " can
not well describe what glorious scenes have opened in
Yorkshire. Since I was in Ashby, perhaps seventy oi
eighty thousand have attended the word preached in
d'lvers places. At Haworth, on Whit-Sunday, the
church was thrice filled with communicants. It was
a precious season."

76 LADY HUNTINGTON.
After travelling through different parts of Lan-
cashfre, Westmoreland, and Cumberland, accompanied
by Ingham and one or two other kindi-ed spfrits, ha
departs for Scotland; while we return to Ashby, and
find Hervey there, among other guests. How feeble is
he. Dr. Stonehouse can administer nothing for his
relief, but advises him to go to London by easy stages,
and try the effect of change of afr ; and Lady Hunt
ington urges it. The next winter finds 'hun lodged
not with " his brother after the flesh," but with "the
brother of his heart," Mr. Whitefield, at his house
near Moorfields. Lady Huntington commends the
invalid to the kind notice of her female friends ; at
the house of Lady Fanny Shfrley and Lady Gertrude
Hotham, he preaches as often as his strength admits,
and it was to the former that he dedicates his new
volume, " Theron and Aspasio."
Early in the month of October, Whitefield comes
back to Ashby, after long ranging about, as he says, to
see who would believe the gospel report.
" Your kind letter," he answers Doddridge, " finds
me happy at our good Lady Huntington's, whose path
shines brighter and brighter tUl the perfect day.
Gladly shall I call upon you again, if the Lord spares
my life ; but in the meanwhile, I shaU not fail to pray
that the work of our common Lord may more and
more prosper in your hand. I thank you a thousand
times for your kindness to the chief of sinners, and
assure you, reverend sfr, the affection is reciprocal. I
go with regret from Lady Huntington. Do come and
see her soon."

WHITEFIELD. 7S
There were five clergymen now beneath her hospi
table roof, " and it is a time of refreshing from the
presence of our God," she writes to her aunt. Lady
Fanny. " Several of om* Uttle cfrcle have been won
derfully fiUed with the love of God, and have had joy
unspeakable and fuU of glory. It is impossible to con
ceive more real happiness than Lady Frances enjoys.
Dear Mr. Whitefield's sermons and conversation are
close, searching, experimental, awful, and awaken
ing. Surely God is wonderfully with him."
"Whitefield now returned to London. Lady Hunt
ington remained with her family at Ashby-place.
Her health is delicate : Dr. Stonehouse still adminis
ters to her in bodUy things, though he has just taken
the cure of souls. He is thrown much into the society
of those who are movers and actors in the great reUg
ious movements of the day, some of whom are among
his choicest friends ; yet he seems to have felt a strong
repugnance to the term ' Methodist,' and perhaps it
was in reference to his timid conservatism upon this
point, that Lady Huntington urges, ' Go forth boldly,
fear not the reproach of men, and preach the inesti
mable gift of God to impotent sinners.' "
" For Christ's sake, dear Mr. Hervey," wrote
Whitefield, "exhort Dr. Stonehouse, now that he
hath taken the gown, to ' play the man ;' " and to the
doctor himself he says, " I have thought of you and
prayed for you much, since we parted at Northamp
ton. How wonderfully doth the Lord Jesus watch
over you. How sweetly doth he lead you out of
temptation., 0 follow his leadings, my dear friend.

80 LADY HUNTINGTON.
and let every, even the most beloved Isaac, be imme
diately sacrificed for God. God's law is our rule, and
God wiU have all the heart or none. Agags will
plead, but they must be hewn in pieces. May you
quit yourself like a man, and in every respect behave
like a good soldier of Jesus Christ."
" AUow me to express my heartfelt gratitude for
the very faithful manner in which you have placed
my serious duties before me," he courteously replies
to Lady Huntington, " duties high and honorable,
but arduous indeed. "What holy and excellent exam'
pies have I in the exalted piety and ministerial fidel
ity of Doddridge, Hervey, and Hartley, and the un
daunted zeal of that great apostle, Mr. "Whitefield.
May I be a follower of them as they are of Christ,
and whatever little differences may exist between us,
may we aU finaUy meet before the throne of God and
the Lamb."
Dr. Stonehouse is said to have become one of the
most elegant preachers of the kingdom, and for the
grace of propriety perhaps he was mainly indebted to
Garrick, whose famous criticism wUl bear repeating.
Being once engaged to read prayers and preach
at a church in London, he prevailed upon Garrick to
go with him. After the service, the actor asked the
preacher what particular business he had to do when
the duty was over.
" None," said the other.
" I thought you had," said Garrick, " on seeing
you enter the reading-desk in such a hurry. Nothing
can be more indecent than to see a cl^gj-man set

GARRICK. 81
about sacred business as if he were a tradesman, and
go into church as if he wanted to get out of it as soon
as possible." He next asked the doctor what books
he had before him.
" Only the Bible and Prayer-book."
" Only the Bible and Prayer-book?" repUed the
player; "why, you tossed them backwards and for
wards, and turned the leaves as carelessly, as if they
were those of a daybook and ledger."
The doctor acknowledged the force of the criti
cism by henceforth avoiding the faults it was designed
to correct. Might not many a young preacher of our
own day wisely profit by the same ?

4*

82 LADY HUNTINGTON.
CHAPTER yi.
DODDRIDGE.
One of the finest expositions of Dr. Doddridge's
own principles, of which it can justly be said he was
a " living epistle," we find in a sermon of his deliv
ered in January, 1750, before a meeting of ministers
at Creaton, in Northamptonshire, upon " Christian
Candor and Unanimity."
" To agree in our sentiments as to every point of
doctrine or discipUne, or as to the authority or expe
diency of every rite of worship that may be in ques
tion, is absolutely impossible. The best of men dif
fer — ^thefr understandings differ — various associations
have been accidentally formed, and different princi
ples have been innocently and perhaps devoutly
admitted, which even a course of just and sensible
reasoning must necessarUy lead to different conclu
sions. But," says the excellent man, "where we and
our brethren agree in attending to the 07ie thing
which Christianity was designed to teach us, surely
an agreement in that should unite our hearts, more
than any difference consistent with that agreement
should divide them. To reverence with filial love
the God of heaven, and adore him with integiity of
heart ; to honor Jesus his Son as the brightest image,
subscribing to the truth of all he is known to have
revealed, and the authority of all he is apprehended

Eo.g'^ >-r- F H-L 1 3-

Ji'OuIlXirjire Jii)C©irj)j[^lTli^{i^!i

.Pu'.-L^-7f.7C /:l ¦¦//, .,;,¦.-

DODDRIDGE. 83
to command ; conscientiously to abftain from every
known evU, and to practise, as far as human inffrmity
wiU admit, the comprehensive precepts of living
soberly, righteously, and godly ; stiU looking for the
mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life,
setting the affections on those great objects which
' the gospel opens to our view, and finally, being habit-
uaUy ready to sacrffice life and aU its enjoyments to
that blessed hope — ^this, this, my brethren, is the
essential character of every Christian ; and where we
see this, shaU we esteem it a difficult thing to live
peaceably with him? ShaU we esteem it a praise
that we do not censure, grieve, or injure him, because
he follows not us? Is this the man to be hated
and suspected ? I wUl add. Can we refuse to embrace
and esteem him, merely because he worships in an
other assembly, or according to a different form ;
because he expresses his apprehensions about some
of the doctrines in different words ; because he can
not see aU we think we discern in some passages of
Scripture, or because he imagines he sees some
thing which we discern not ? And is it, after all, so
great a matter to love a character which, amidst all
its imperfections, is in general so justly amiable?
Nay, instead of thinking much of any act of kindness,
ought we not rather to lament that we can do no
more ? Ought we not rather to endeavor to supply
in our fervent prayers to God the lack of that further
service which Christian benevolence dictates, but
which the narrow limits of our condition or our nature
will not allow us to perform ?

64 LADY HUNTINGTON.
"Methinks *he matter might be safely rested
here." And yet he finds it good to Ulustrate and en
force his principles by many winning arguments ; and
more powerfuUy still did he commend them by his
own example of loving feUowship with Hervey and
Romaine, with Whitefield and Ingham, and mdeed
with aU of whatever name who could reciprocate
such charity. May not Doddridge thus speak to us ?
Let us fflially contemplate this phase of his character,
if haply we may catch his spfrit and profit by his
teachings. On being pubUshed, this discourse was dedicated
to Lady Huntington, " that eminent example of
Christian candor here recommended, and of every
other vfrtue and grace which can inspfre, support,
and adorn it."
In June we find Doddridge at Ashby, and from a
letter written to his beloved pupil and ministerial
brother. Rev. Benjamin Fawoett of Kidderminster, we
find some notes of pleasant memory.
" Lady Huntington, for whom I desfred your pray
ers, is wonderfuUy recovered. She walked with me in
the garden and park, and almost wearied me, such
is her recruit of strength ; but the strength of her
soul is amazing. I think I never saw so much of the
image of God in any woman upon earth. Were I to
write what I know of her, it would fiU your heart
with wonder, joy, and praise. She desfred me tc
educate a lad for the dissenting ministry at her ex
pense, till he be fit to come to my academy ; and this
is but one of a multitude of good works which she is

DODDRIDGE. 85
continuaUy performing. I must teU you, however,
one observation which struck me much : ' None/
said she, ' know how to prize Christ, but those
who are zealous in good works. Men know not tUl
they try, what imperfect things these best works are,
and how deficient we are in them ; and the experi
ence of that sweetness that attends thefr perform
ance, makes me more sensible of those obligations to
Him whose grace is the principle of them in our
hearts.' She has God dwelling in her, and she is
ever bearing her testimony to the present salvation
he has given us, and to the fountain of living waters
which she feels springing up in her soul ; so that she
knows the divine original of the promises before the
performance of them to her, as she knows God to be
her Creator by the life he has given her.
" As I was setting out on my blessed journey to
her, for such indeed it was, yesterday was sevennight,
a terrible accident happened to my study, which might
have been attended with fatal consequences. I had
been sealing a letter with a little roU of wax, and I
thought I had blown it out, when fanned by the mo-
tion of the air as I arose in haste, it was rekindled.
It burnt about a quarter of an hour, while we were
at prayer, and would have gone on perhaps to have
consumed the closet and the house, had not my oppo
site neighbor seen the flame and given the alarm.
When I came up I found my desk, which was cov
ered with papers, burning like an altar : many letters,
papers of memoranda, and schemes of sermons were
consumed. My book of accounts was on fire, and a

66 LADY HUNTINGTON.
volume of the Family Expositor, the original manu
script from Corinthians to Ephesians, surrounded
by flames and drenched with melted wax ; and yet, so
did God moderate the rage of this element, and deter
mine in his providence the time of our entrance, that
not one account is rendered uncertain, nor is one line
which had not been transcribed destroyed in the
manuscript. Observe, my dear friend. His hand, and
magnify the Lord with me."
In the preface to this volume of the Family Ex
positor, he writes, '' Well may it be said, ' Is not this
a brand plucked out of the burning ?' A ffre was
kindled among my papers which endangered the
utter ruin of my affairs. Every thing must have
gone, had it not been for the glance of an eye by
which an opposite neighbor discovered it. I desfre
now to leave it upon record, that I now have received
this wonderful mercy from the Lord, and would con
sider it as an engagement to devote aU I have to him
with greater zeal."
In December of this year Lady Huntington had
a dangerous ilUiess, which greatly alarmed her friends.
She was at Ashby with her daughters and sisters, the
Ladies Hastings. This month Dr. Doddridge is also
called to St. Albans to preach the funeral-sermon of
his almost father, Dr. Samuel Clarke, author of "The
Promises," a man highly venerated by his brethren
and gratefully beloved by Doddridge.
" I want to be a minister," was the chief desire
of a yomig lad, many years before this time. He
was r.n orphan and poor, for all the little patrimony

DODDRIDGE. 87
left him by his father was lost by his guardian. He
left school and went to his sister, but her income was
too smaU to render him effectual aid. He loved
study, and his uppermost wish was to preach the
gospel, yet darkness was on the way. A rich lady
having learned something of his cleverness, offered
to pay his expenses at Oxford, provided he would
enter the English church. He was very grateful to
this lady, but he felt constrained to refuse the offer,
for he revered the faith of his fathers, and chose rather
to suffer constraint and reproach with the dissenters,
than to dweU in the sumptuous tents of the estab
lishment. Troubled and anxious, he thought he would ven
ture to caU upon a learned minister in the neighbor
hood, lay his case before him, and ask his advice.
The gentleman received the poor lad cooUy, and spoke
no word of encouragement. He advised him to choose
another calling, and think no more of preaching.
Disheartened more and more, he turned away from
the house sorrowfully. " Try the law," said some of
his friends, and not long afterwards they procured
him a suitable situation in an office. There seemed
to be nothing else for him to do ; but before the finaP
decision, the young man set apart one morning espe
ciaUy to seek the dfrection of God in this matter.
"WhUe engaged in prayer, the postman knocked
at the door. He brought the young man a letrter.
It was from an early friend of his father, who having
learned his destitute condition, offered, if he were stUl
intent upon the work of the ministry, to talco him

88 LADY HUNTINGTON.
under his care and assist him in his studies. What
a precious letter it was ! " This," he exclaimed
with heartfelt gi-atitude, " I look upon almost as an
answer from heaven, and whUe I Uve I shall always
adore so seasonable an opening of divine Providence.
I have sought God's dfrection in all this matter, and
I hope I have had it, and I beg he would make me
an instrument of doing much good in the world."
His desfres were gratified, for God enabled him
not only to become a useful and beloved minister
himself, but to train up many others for the same
holy calling. What a blessing waits on those who
wait on God.
This young lad was Philip Doddridge, and the
timely friend, good Dr. Clarke of St. Albans, whose
death he is now caUed to mourn. An uninterrupted
friendship had ever subsisted between them, the elder
rejoicing in the ripe and useful manhood of lUs once
orphan charge, and the younger holding in grateful
memory the friend who appeared to him in the houi
of his need.
On this journey to St. Albans, to officiate at thr
funeral services, in the raw and chUly weather of ari
English December, Doddridge took a severe cold.
which hung about him all winter.
Lady Huntington continues UI. "I fear we shaU
Boon lose her too," he says, "but the Lord liveth, and
blessed be our Rock." At the beginning of the new
year, 1751, she declined so rapidly that Whitefield
was sent for in haste from London. " I rode post to
Ashby," he said, " not knowing whether I should find

DODDRIDGE. gg
good Lady Huntington alive. Blessed be God, she
is somewhat better, and I trust wUl not die, but live,
and abound more and more in the work of the Lord.
Entreat aU our friends to pray for her. Indeed she
is worthy." A few hours before "Whitefield reached Ashby,
Lady Frances Hastings was suddenly removed to that
" Land of pure delight,
Where saints immortal reign."
Her age was fifty-seven. In all things she adorned
the doofrine of her Saviour. Her gentleness and sin
cerity endeared her to a large cfrcle of friends, and
heavenly-mindedness made her a choice spfrit among
the people of God ; whUe a multitude of the neighbor-
ing poor attended her funeral, weeping " for the good
works and almsdeeds which she had done."
" She seemed, as it were, to smUe at death," wrote
"Whitefield to Lady Mary HamUton, her mtimate
friend, " and may be said, I frust truly, to have faUen
asleep m Jesus. Lady Betty is more affected than I
ever saw her. Lady Aime bears up pretty weU;
whUe Lady Huntington rejoices at the thought of
her sister's being so quickly translated out of this
house of bondage into the glorious Uberty of the sons
of God." Every body advises her ladyship to take a journey
to Bristol, for the benefit of the waters, which she
hopes to do.
After Whitefield left. Dr. Stonehouse came to
Ashby, where he remained untU the invalid could bo
removed to Bristol Hot-WeUs, whither she went in the

90 LADY HUNTINGTON.
beginning of March. Just before going, Doddridge
seems to have paid her a visit, for we hear her exclaim
ing, " How holy, how humble is that excellent man !
And what divine words feU from Ins Ups at the last
sacramental feast ! How close and searching were
his addresses ! I flunk I was scarce ever so happy
before. He and Dr. Stonehouse have preached alter
nately every evening. I trust my journey to Bristol
wUl be for good. 0 that my health and strength
may be whoUy employed for that blessed Redeemer
who has done such great things for me."
A few weeks find her much recruited in strength,
and she is now at Bristol, interesting herself and her
friends to procure subscribers for the last three volumes
of " The FamUy Expositor," just completed. This
Doddridge esteemed his " capital work," which he
began to prepare on his ffrst entrance into the minis
try, and always kept in view through aU his sub
sequent studies. On transmitting to him a long list
of additional subscribers, " I have the unspeakable
pleasure of communioating intelUgence that -wUl re
joice my much-esteemed friend," she says. " Most
earnestly do I pray the Lord of aU lords to prolong
your valuable Ufe, and give you strength and abUities
for the publication of a work so calculated to promote
the glory of his name, and the everlasting good of
mankind." Alas, there were symptoms that this valuable life
was on its wane. His early winter cold has never left
hun. Months pass avfay and there is no abatement
of his cough. Anxiety and fear creep uito the bosom

DODDRIDGE. 91
of his family. The skUl of his physician seems baffled.
The tenderest nm-sing loses its healmg power. Every
thing is expected from the benign influences of spring :
and while hope alternates with fear in the hearts of
his friends, he is urged, as milder weather approaches,
to leave his laborious charge at Northampton, and
try a change of air and scene.
" Use all means," wrote one in impassioned accents,
" use aU means to repafr your frame and prolong your
ftsefuhiess ; this is not only needful for Northampton
and its adjacent towns and viUages, but desfrable to
us all and beneficial to our whole interests. Stay,
Doddridge, 0 stay and sfrengthen our hands, whose
shadows grow long. Fifty is but the height of use
fulness, vigor, and honor. Providence hath not directed
thee yet on whom to drop thy mantle. "Who shaU
instruct our youth, fiU our vacant churches, animate
our associations, and diffuse a spfrit of piety, moder
ation, candor, and charity throughout our viUages
and churches, and a spfrit of prayer and supplication
into our towns and cities, when thou art removed
from us ? EspeciaUy, who shaU rescue us from the
bondage of systems, party opinions, empty, useless
speculations, and fashionable forms and phrases, and
point out to us the simple, intelUgible, consistent,
uniform religion of our Lord and Saviour ?"
With the soft influences of the season, and the
exhUaration produced by easy journeying through
some of the most beautiful parts of the kingdom, the
invaUd seemed to revive ; those less acquainted with
the flattering nature of his disease, even looked for

92 LADY HUNTINGTON.
reco-very, but every auspicious token was speedily
dissipated when with the increasing warm weather
he gTew more languid and feeble. A sea-voyage is
now the last sad resort, and his physician advises a
trip to Lisbon. The expense being beyond his liin.
ited means. Lady Huntington generously contributed
one hundred pounds, which, with~the aid rendered by
Lady Fanny Shirley, Lady Chesterfield, and a few
others, was raised to three hundred; " and this," she
says, " with what his friends among the dissenters
may collect, will, I hope, be of essential service in pro
curing him every comfort which his almost helpless
state requires."
Early in September we learn she is at Bath, in
devoted attendance upon Dr. Doddridge, who is in a
deep-seated consumption, but who is to set out in a
few days in order to embark at Falmouth for Lisbon,
whence Dr. OUver thinks "he wUl never return."
The tenderest and deepest soUcitude is felt by
his many friends all over the kingdom ; numerous
letters daUy arrive filled with anxious inqufries after
his health ; and affection and skill do thefr utmost to
relieve him. " My soul," he says, " is vigorous and
healthy, notwithstanding the hastening decay of this
frail and tottering body. It is not for the love of
sunshine, or the variety of meats, that 1 desire life ;
but, if it please God, that I may render him a little
more service." How did he regard the approaching
voyage ? >
" The means I am about pursuing," he hoarsely
whispers, "to save life, so far as I am solely con-

DODDRIDGE. 93
oerned, are to my apprehension worse than death.
My profuse night-sweats are very weakening to my
material frame ; but the most distressing nights to
this frail body have been as the beginning of heaven
to my soul. God hath, as it were, let heaven down
upon me in those nights of weakness and waking.
Blessed be his name."
Yet friends urge it, and he consents. On the
morning of his departure. Lady Huntington entered
his room and found him weeping over the open Bible
lying before him.
" You are in tears, sir," she said.
" I am weeping, madam," repUed the doctor in a
faint, yet calm tone, " but they are tears of joy and
comfort. I can give up my country, my friends, my
relatives, into the hands of God; and as to myself,
I can as well go to heaven from Lisbon, as from my
own study at Northampton."
" I see indeed no prospect of recovery," again said
the almost dying man, "yet my heart rejoiceth in
my God and my Saviour, and I can call him, under
this faUure of every thing else, its strength and ever
lasting portion. God hath indeed been wonderfuUy
good to me, but I am less than the least of his mer
cies, less than the least hope of his children. Adored
be his grace for whatever it hath wrought by me."
After a fatiguing journey of ten days, owing to
the wetness of the season and the bad state of the
roads, he reached Falmouth, and was hospitably
received into the house of Dr. Turner, a clergyman of
the EngUsh church. On the night before embarking,

94 LADY HUNTINGTON.
some of his worst symptoms, which had been for a
whUe checked, returned with great violence, so that
his wife entreated that the voyage might be given
up. " The die is cast, and I wUl go," was the quiet
answer. " On the 30th of September," writes one of him,
"accompanied by his anxious wife and servant, he
sailed from Falmouth ; and, revived by the soft breezes
and the ship's stormless progress, he sat in his easy-
chair in the cabin enjoying the brightest thoughts of
all his life. ' Such transporting views of the heaverUy
world is my Father now indulging me with, as no
words can express,' was his frequent exclamation to
the tender partner of his voyage ; and when the ship
was gUding up the Tagus, and Lisbon with its groves
and gardens and sunny towers stood before them, so
animating was the spectacle, that affection hoped he
might yet recover. That hope was vain. Bad symp
toms soon came on, and the chief advantage of the
change was, that it perhaps rendered dissolution more
easy. On the 26th of October, 1751, at the age of
50, he ceased from his labors, and soon after was laid
m the burying-ground of the English factory."
" God is all-sufficient, and my only hope," writes
the afflicted wife to her famUy at Northampton. "Oh,
my dear children, help me to praise Him. Such
supports, such consolations, such comforts has he
granted, that my mind at times is astonished and is
ready to burst into songs of praise under its most ex
quisite distress. As to outward comforts, God has
withheld no good thing from me but has given mo

DODDRIDGE. 95
all the assistance and aU the supports that the ten
derest friendship was capable of affording me, and
which I think my dear Northampton friends could
not have exceeded. Thefr prayers are not lost. I
doubt not I am reaping the benefit of them, and 1
hope that you will do the same."
Such is the eloquent utterance of the believer. " I
wUl bless the Lord at aU times ; his praise shall con
tinually be in my mouth. Oh, taste and see that the
Lord is good : blessed is the man that trusteth in
him. There is no want to them that fear him."
Nor can we let pass the sound preacher, the suc
cessful writer, the beloved pastor, without a grateful
tribute to the memory of Doddridge as the sweet
lyrist of God's people. Has he not given a voice to
the most cherished emotions of the soul ? Has he not
been with us on our covenant-day, and with exquisite
pathos bid  "the glowing heart rejoice
And tell its raptures all abroad ?"-
Beset with foes and ready to faint by the way, world-
weary, have not his stirring words come to us Uke
the breath of heaven ?
" A cloud of witnesses around,
Hold thee in full survey :
Forget the steps already trod,
And onward urge thy way."
Has he not stayed the tear in its fountain by the
exhilarating prospect,
" Fast as ye bring the night of death,
Ye bring eternal day ?"

96 LADY HUNTINGTON.
And he must ever be a sweet singer to the Israel of
God until the coming of the new Jerusalem, where
is no more death, neither sorrow nor crying, neither
any more pain, for the former things have passed
away.

THE TABERNACLE. 97

CHAPTER VII.
THE TABERNACLE— VENN— PREACHING TOURS.
The present inhabitants in and around Moorfields
in London would hardly be wUling to acknowledge
the sorry figure which Moorfields made a Uttle more
than a hundred years ago. This tract of land, just
beyond the limits of the old city waU, was, as its
name indicates, a marsh, and impassable the greater
part of the year. Having been partially drained, a
brickkiln was erected, and the ffrst brick used in
London were manufactured there. Afterwards it was
a field for the practice of archery, when it was laid
out in walks and caUed the City Mall. Though im
proved in name and appearance, it became the rally
ing ground of aU the rabble in London ; wrestlers,
boxers, and mountebanks, the idle, the dissolute, and
profane held here thefr daily and nightly revels. It
appeared in fact to be one of the strong-holds of Satan,
and therefore became a most tempting and important
point of attack for the daring eloquence of Whitefield.
AU London rang one day with the announcement
that "Whitefield would preach the day following at
Moorfields ; this was in January, 1739.
" The thing being strange and new," says Gillies,
" he found, on coming out of the coach, an incredible
number of people assembled. Many told him he
would never come out of that place alive. He went
lIiintii)|;ton O

08 LADy HUNTINGTON.
in however between two friends, who by the pressurij
of tho crowd were soon parted from him entirely, and
obliged to leave him to the mercy of the rabble. But
these instead of hurting him formed a lane for him,
and carried him along to the middle of the fields,
where a table had been placed ; this however having
been broken by the crowd, he mounted a waU and
preached to an exceeding great multitude in tones so
melting, that his words drew tears and groans from
the most abandoned. Moorfields became henceforth
one of the principal scenes of his triumphs. Thirty
thousand people sometimes gathered to hear him, and
generous contributions here flowed in for his orphan-
house at Bethesda. On one occasion tv/enty pounds
were received in half-pennies, more than one person
was able to carry away, and enough to put one out of
conceit with a, specie currency."
Before Whitefield went to Georgia, in 1738, a
temporary shed had been roughly thrown up to screen
the people from the cold, and called a Tabernacle, in
allusion to the movable sanctuary of the Israelites in
the wUderness. A more spacious edifice was now
projected. The matter first came up for discussion
in the summer of 1751, when Doddridge, Stonehouse,
Hervey, and WlUtefield happened to meet together at
Lady Huntington's in Ashby. During the following
winter Whitefield began to make collections for the
object, and on almost its first presentation at London
nine hundred pounds were subscribed. "But," he
says, "on the principle that burned children dread the
firo, I do not mean to begin until I get one thousand

THE TABERNACLE. 99
in hand, and then to contract at a certain sum for the
whole." The fact was, Whitefield had often been in
great sti-aits for the support of his orphan-house over
the sea, " for I forgot," he teUs us, " to recoUect that
Professor Franke built in Glaucha, in a populous
country, and that I was buUding at the very tail of
the world." In accordance with this prudent resolu
tion, it was not until March, 1753, that he writes to
Charles Wesley, " On Tuesday morning the first
brick of our new Tabernacle was laid with awful
solemnity. I preached from Exodus: 'In all places
where I record my name, I wUi come unto thee and
bless thee.' The wall is now about a yard high.
The building is to be eighty feet square. It is on
the old spot. We have bought the house, and if we
finish what we have begun, shall be rent free for
forty-six years." *¦
In June it was ready for the opening services, and
though capable of holding four thousand people, was
crowded to suffocation. Whitefield was now solicited
to hold public services at the west end of London,
and Long-acre chapel, then under the charge of a
dissenter, was offered for his use. An unruly rabble
tried to drive the preacher from his post ; but a run
ning fire of brickbats, broken glass, beUs, drums, and
clappers, neither annoyed nor frightened the intrepid
evangelist, nor did a hierarchal interference which
foUowed hard after, prohibiting his preaching in an
incorporated chapel. " I hope you will not look upon
it as contumacy," said Whitefield to the bishop, " if
I persist in prosecuting my design until I "am more

100 LADY HUNTINGTON.
particularly apprized wherein I have erred. I trust
the irregularity I am charged with wUl appear justi
fiable to every lover of English liberty, and what is
all to me, be approved at the awful and impartial
tribunal of the great Bishop and Shepherd of souls."
" My greatest distress," he says to Lady Hunt
ington in the course of these proceedings, "is so to
act as to avoid rashness on the one hand and timidity
on the other ;" and this shows, what in truth his whole
life showed, an entire absence of that malignant ele
ment of fanaticism which courts opposition and revels
in it. Determined not to be beaten from his ground, yet
hoping to escape some of its annoyances, WMtefield
resolved to build a chapel of his own. Hence arose
Tottenham-court chapel, which went by the name
of "Whitefield's soul-trap." "I pray the Friend of
sinners to make it a soul-trap indeed to many wan
dering creatures," said he. " My constant work is
preaching fifteen times a week. Conviction and con
version go on here, for God hath met us in our new
building." This chapel was opened in November, 1756, accord
ing to the forms of the church of England, and licensed
under the Toleration Act, as other houses of prayer.
Twelve almshouses and a chapel-house were added
two years after. The lease granted by General George
Fitzroy to Mr. Whitefield having expired in 1828, it
was purchased by the trustees and reopened in 1830,
when Rev. William Jay preached the reopening ser
mon. The chapel at present is a handsome building.

THE TABERNACLE. 101
the exterior coated with stucco and ornamented with
pUasters ; the interior is neat and tasteful. Its pres
ent pulpit is the same in which Whitefield preached.
Among the monumental tablets, you read the names
of Whitefield, Toplady, and Joss.
It was before the new Tabernacle was completed
that we find Whitefield, in one of his summer tours,
revisiting Scotland, and domiciled at the hospitable
mansion of Mr. James Nimmo at Edinburgh, a gentle
man of high bfrth and unaffected piety. This was his
thfrd visit to the north, the ffrst of which took place in
1741 ; and greater multitudes than ever now flooked
to hear him. WhUe in Edinburgh, though much
indisposed by chiUs and fever, he continued to preach
twice a day, early in the morning and at six in the
evening. " Your ladyship's health," he says in a
letter to Lady Huntington, " is drank and inqufred
after every day. Mr. Nimmo and his family are in
the number of those who are left in Sardis, and have
not defiled thefr garments." A letter from Lady
Jane, who is the friend and correspondent of Lady
Huntington, reveals to us not only a lively picture of
the religious movements at the Scotch capital, but the
high consideration with which Lady Huntington is
regarded by the people of God in that quarter.
" Accept my thanlis for your very obliging mes
sage by Mr. "Whitefield, and I hope to avail myself of
your very kind offer the first time I go to London
with Mr. Nimmo. Your ladyship wiU rejoice to hear
what crowds flock to hear Mr. Whitefield. The
energy and power of the gospel word is truly remark-

102 LADY HUNTINGTON.
able. Dear Lady Frances Gardiner is very active
in 'oringing people to hear him. "There is a great
awakening among all classes. Truth is great and
will prevail, notwithstanding all manner of evU is
spoken against it, The fields are more than white
and ready unto the harvest in Scotland. Many pray
ers are offered up for your ladyship, and many bless
God for your sending your chaplain into these parts.
The infinitely condescending Redeemer vouchsafes to
bless your labors for the good of souls in England,
and your ladyship will shortly have my native coun
try to add to the brilliancy of that diadem which
will adorn your brow in the great day of the Lord.
I blush and am confounded when I think to what
little purpose I have lived. I beg, dear madam, you
will pray for me. I feel under manifold obligations
to you, and hope to spend an eternity with you in
praising that grace and love that has plucked us as
brands from the burning. Mr. Nimmo begs his most
cordial salutations to you, yours, and aU who Ioto
our Lord Jesus Christ; and wishing you the best of
blessings, I subscribe myself, my dear madam, your
ladyship's, most affectionately in our common Lord,
"JANE NIMMO."
About this time two gentlemen came from Amer
ica to soUcit contributions for Princeton coUege. These
were Mr. AUen and Colonel Williams. They brought
letters of introduction from General Belcher of New
Jersey to Lady Huntington, who collected consider
able sums for the object. Mr. Allen died in two
months after his arrival of a disease called the jaU

THE TABERNACLE. 103
fever, first known in 1750, at the summer session of
Old Bailey. Three years afterwards, Messrs. Ten-
nent and Davies were sent over to reawaken the
interest and further the cause.
Among the pubUcations of the day appeared
" Theron and Aspasio," by Hervey, in which the
doctrines of the cross were iUustrated and enforced
in the form of dialogue. " Thank God for the mas
terly defence of them in these dialogues," exclaimed
Romaine. The book was dedicated to Lady Fanny Shirley,
who became the appreciating patron and warm friend
of the invalid and retfring preacher. Though long
gone by, these dialogues are stUl well worth reading,
both for the truths they teach and the spirit which
they breathe. Let us go and see Hervey on a
Sunday. "Last Sabbath-day, after preaching in the morn
ing at Olney, with three others I rode to hear one
Mr. Hervey, a minister of the church of England,
who preached at ColUngtree, and to my great sur
prise as well as satisfaction, having never seen such
a thing before in prayer- time, instead of singing
psalms they sung two of Dr. Watts' hymns, the clerk
giving them out line by line : after prayer, without
going out of the desk, the minister put off his surplice
and turned to the fifteenth chapter of St. Matthew,
which was the second lesson of the day, and told the
people what pleasure had occurred in his mind while
reading the parable of our Saviour's feeding the four
thousand men, besides women and children, with

104 LADY HUNTINGTON.
seven loaves and a few little fishes : he then spoke
in a plain, simple manner about it, and afterwards
spiritualized it by observing what great things the
Lord sometimes does by smaU things and weak
instruments. And then, without going up into the
pulpit, he turned to the fifth chapter of the Ephe
sians, and read the twenty-fifth, twenty-sixth, and
twenty-seventh verses, and very sweetly and clearly
he spoke from them ; showing the meaning of those
words in the creed, / believe in the holy catholic
church, wherein he observed, They do not believe in
the church, as in God Almighty and in his Son Jesus
Christ our Lord ; but the meaning, he observed, was,
I believe God has a holy catholic church ; and the
word catholic signifies universal ; that there always
was, now is, and will be a church of Christ. He
then from the holy word showed who were the mem
bers of this church ; such as were cleansed, washed,
or justified from thefr sins in the blood of our Lord
Jesus Christ ; and here he spoke very clearly to the
people, and told them that all were not of or in this
church, which he compared to Noah and his family
in the ark being safe, when all the rest were drowned
in the deluge. In Uke manner he showed, notwith
standing their coming to that place or building, if
they were not members of that church he had been
describing, by being united to Jesus Christ by faith,
they, as the people out of the ark, must perish at last.
And as he had been teUing them who were members
of this church, he spoke in a humble way of himself
as being an unworthy member thereof. And now

VENN. 105
having shown what was meant by the church, and
who were its members, he showed lastly, from the
words that were read, what were the church's privi
leges. Thus far I have been particular, for such a
way of proceeding in the church of England seems
wonderful to me. But what shall we say? God
is no respecter of persons, neither of places. This
Mr. Hervey expounds every Wednesday night, cate
chizes the children, and meets some people on Tues
days and Thursdays in or near the parish where he
lives." Surely here is in very deed a servant of the true
spfritual church of the Redeemer, bought with his
own precious blood.
Rev. Bryan Broughton, secretary of the Society
for Promoting Christian Knowledge, was also one of
the original Oxford band. Now living at London,
college friendships are kept aUve, and he is stUl the
friend and associate of Whitefield and the Wesleys.
There came to our house, he says, the newly ap
pointed curate of St. Matthews, a young man, whose
fresh and earnest spfrit was prepared to regard the
new religious movements of the time with candid
and inquiring interest. "Are these things from God ?"
he asked reverently.
His name is Henry Venn, whose " Complete Duty
of Man " is now among the choice and sterling books
of our religious libraries. Law's " Serious Call" had
made a deep impression upon his mind, and he was
endeavoring to meet its stern and uncompromising
demands upon his moral nature. Like the Wesleys

100 LADY HUNTINGIOM.
at Oxford, he prescribed to himself a rigid course of
fasting and prayer. He determined resolutely to
grapple with the evil of his nature, and compel his
rebel affections to do homage to thefr Lord. But tho
course thus marked out could not meet his wants.
No self-inflictions could reach the necessities of the
case. He now became acquainted with Whitefield,
Lady Huntington, and others like-minded, who from
their own fervent experience could point him to ^Hhe
Lamb of God, ivhich taketh away the sin of the
world." A severe and long-continued illness, which
broke in upon his public labors, gave him time for
deep searching of heart and uninterrupted meditation
upon divine truth. His views of doctrine grew clearer,
and salvation by the blood of Christ as the grand
central doctrine of the Scriptures, became distinct
and precious to his soul.
When he again went forth to his ministry, he
went in the might of a crucified and risen Saviour,
deeply imbued with that spfrit of prayer and holy
consecration which made his conversation, his preach
ing, and his writings so eminently useful in his day.
Soon after his recovery he accompanied "Wliitefield
upon a preaching tour into Gloucestershire, where
they proclaimed to immense crowds the glad tidings
of the gospel. At Clifton they were welcomed and
hospitably entertained by Lady Huntington, and here
Venn met many kindred spfrits, whose sympathy and
knowledge in divine things quickened and rejoiced
his spfrit. In 1759 he received the large and valuable living

VENN. 107
of Huddersfield in West Yorkshire, one hundred and
ninety mUes north-west of London, and Mr. Venn
became the apostle of the region. He was instant
in season and out of season, exhorting, rebuking,
reproving with all long-suffering and patience.
"Preach Christ crucified as the only foundation
of the sinner's hope," wrote Lady Huntington to
him, " and may your bow abide in strength. Bo
bold, be fu-m, be decisive. Let Christ be the alpha
and omega of aU your addresses to your fellow-men,
and may the gracious benediction of your heavenly
Master rest upon you."
Pastoral fidelity was one of the chief excellences
of this man of God. He made frequent visits to aU
the different hamlets of his extensive parish, collect
ing together those who coijld not attend divine wor
ship on the Sabbath, and instructing them from house
to house. "I have deUghtful accounts from Huddersfield,"
said his patron, " of the wonderful manner in which
the ministry of their faithful and laborious vicar is
blessed to that people; and what is gratifying, his
health was never better."
We cannot but look with surprise upon the pro
digious labors of many in the ministry at this period,
when work and health and long Ufe seemed to go
hand in hand. Hard roads, rough weather, pressing
service, threats, and opposition never daunted, nor
discourage J, nor interrupted their labors. They shrunk
from no toUs. " Heart within and God o'er head,"
they proved themselves patient and hardy laborers.

108 LADY HUNTINGTON.
simple in thefr habits, strong in faith, and solicitous
chiefly about the furtherance of the kingdom of their
Lord and Master.
Yorkshfre, one of the largest counties of England,
is washed by the German ocean, and is divided into
east, west, and north ridings. It contains many
ranges of high land, and is watered by the Ouse, Don,
Humber, and Afre. This was the native county and
principal theatre of the labors of Benjamin Ingham,
one of Wesley's coUege band. On leaving Oxford in
1734, he went to his mother's house, where he used
to coUect little companies about the neighborhood and
expound to them the word of God. With the Wes
leys he went to Georgia, and labored at a small
Indian mission a few miles from Savannah. He
learned the language, made a grammar, and became
deeply interested in the wild sons of the forest. On
the return of the brothers to England, he accompa
nied them, and shortly revisited his native county.
At Wakefield, Leeds, and Halifax he preached with
marveUous power. This provoked ecclesiastical cen
sure, and he wag prohibited the use of the churches
throughout the diocese of York. Not at all dismayed
or discouraged, he betook himself to the fields, where
crowds of hungry hearers hung upon his lips : every
where the common people heard him gladly ; others
also Avere subdued by his searching and personal ap
peals. The Hastings of Ledstone-hall lent an ear to
his instructions, and embraced the trifths thus heart
ily and» zealously enforced. In 1741, as has been
related, he married Lady Margaret Hastings, Earl

GRIMSHAW. 109
Huntington's youngest sister, and made his home at
Aberford. Coworker with Ingham was William Grimsiiaw
of Haworth. Haworth is a bleak and unpromising
little parish, embracing four hamlets, which afford
little to interest the fastidious ; but they enclosed the
joys and sorrows, the sins and the inffrmities of hu
manity, and this made them worthy of the curate's
best endeavors. Besides lUs Sabbath service, Grim-
shaw estabhshed two cfrcuits, which he went over
every week alternately. On what he called his idle
week, he preached twelve or fourteen times ; his
busy week from twenty-four to thirty, going also
from house to house, visiting the sick, instructing
the ignorant, comforting the sorrowful, and helping
the aged towards heaven.
One of the most violent opposers of Grimshaw
and Ingham was the vicar of Colne, a town on the
borders of Yorkshfre. On hearing of the arrival of
any of the awakened preachers into his neighborhood,
he used to call the people together by beating a drum
in the market-place, and eiUisting the mob for the
defence of the church : one of his proclamations
to this end is a curious specimen of ecclesiastical
tactics. " Notice is hereby given, that if any man be
mindful to erdist in his majesty's service, under the
command of Rev. George White, commander-in-chief,
and John Banister, lieut.-general of his majesty's
forces for the defence of the church of England, and
the support of the manufactory in and about Colne,

no LADY HUNTINGTON.
both of which are now in danger, let him repafr
to the drum-head at the cross, where each man shall
receive a pint of ale in advance, and all other proper
encouragement." The reckless fury of a force thus enlisted may be
well imagined : the preachers often ran a gauntlet
for their lives ; they and thefr congregations were
pelted with stones and dfrt, trampled uito the mud,
and beaten without mercy ; the constables often
rivalling the vicar in his violence and hatred against
them. Newton was much in Yorksliire previous to lus
own settlement, loving and laboring both with Ing
ham and Grimshaw. "I forgot to teU you," he writes
to a friend, " that I had the honor to appear as a
Methodist preacher. I was at Haworth ; Mr. Grim
shaw was present and preached. I love the people
called Methodists, and vindicate them from unjust
aspersions, and suffer the reproach of the world foi
being one myself, yet it seems not practicable for me
to join them farther than I do ; for the present I must
try to be useful in private life."
Lady Huntington and her chaplains often jour
neyed during the summer, making their presence a
msans of reUgious revival wherever they went. We
find Iier now, in company v/ith Romaine, travelling in
Yorkshire, and tarrying at Aberford, guests of the
Inghams. Romaine and Ingham, though together at
coUege, knew and cared little for each other then ;
they now met warm and intrepid champions of the
cross. Lady Margaret felt a cordial sympathy for

ROMAINE. Ill
RomaUie in his London trials and reverses, and gen
erously eked out his small income from her own purse ;
whUe her husband accompanied him on preaching
tours throughout the north of England — Romaine
preaching wherever he could obtam a pulpit, and Ing
ham exhorting in chapels and private houses.
At Haworth, a large crowd having assembled,
Mr. Grimshaw gave out word that "his brother Ro
maine would preach the glorious gospel from brother
Whitefield's pulpit in the graveyard ;" and though thi^
announcement did not quite suit the preacher's taste
or principles, he felt it was no time for a minister of
Christ to stick at forms ; Romaine therefore took his
stand in that temple not made with hands, and pro
claimed the unsearchable riches of Christ.
There is something grand and beautiful in the
laborious and unselfish ministrations of the band of
preachers who thus went out into the highways and
hedges of England, pubUshing the gospel message as
if fresh from Christ and Calvary. We feel there was
vitaUty and power in thefr utterances, and we almost
wish that we too might have been there to see and
hear. We look around in our own time, and even
with all the multipUed apparatus of church extension
in our day, aU the bustling activity of our societies and
anniversaries, the current of our spiritual life seems
tame and sluggish compared with the warm and
quickened flow of theirs. We cannot help the inquiry
"What was the main element of their preaching,
which we have not? Where were the hidings of
that wondrous power which electrified both England

112 LADY HUNTINGTON.
and her colonies ? for America also had her Edwards
and her Tennents."
It was not learning or logic merely, though some
of them were learned and giant men; it was not
artistic eloquence, eloquent as they were ; nor was it
the burning of a sectarian or selfish zeal: it was a
profound and vivid sense of sin and redemption, of
heaven and hell — in a word, of the stupendous and
solemn issues of man's moral history ; they felt the
reality and the grandeur of eternity.
Nurtured and brought up with the Bible, the
catechism, or the prayer-book, many men have only
a conventional sort of piety : they beUeve because
nobody questions; they preach because it is a pro
fession, and a noble one ; they maintain a respectable
standing among thefr fellows ; and though in their
more spiritual moments they may conceive of that
latent heat and hidden power, the divinity which
underUes redemptive truths, they yet see only through
a glass darkly, and make little progress. Buffetings,
aggression, conquest in their Master's service, how
ever they may have been elements in the labors of
apostles and reformers, form no part of their inner or
outer life — they saU on no such stormy seas. Now
let this inherited and passive beUef in the truths ol
Christianity, setting easily upon us Uke a fashionable
garment, become instinct with life — let the curtain
of the present and visible world be suddeiUy rent
away, and ourselves and our fellows be seen hasten
ing to eternal joy or remediless woe, and from that
hour onward we are altered beings.

ROMAINE. 113
It was this quickened apprehension of revealed
truth, this deeper intuition into man's lost estate,
which made Paul and Peter, Luther and Calvin,
Whitefield and Wesley, Edwards and Tennent what
they were ; and this it is which must inspire every
true reformer of the church or the world. He must
discover in divine truth "<Ae substance of things
hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." And
this is faith, the gospel faith, in its own integrity,
simple yet powerful — simple, for the chUd can grasp
it, and mighty enough to lay hold on God himself.
Is it not this which the disciples of the Lord in
our own time need, in order to be "true and faith
ful witnesses" of God, and to carry on that great
aggressive movement into the kingdom of darkness,
which Jehovah declares is the mission of the church ?
"For this purpose have I raised thee up, to be my
salvation to the ends of the earth. Behold, I send
thee far hence to the GentUes."

114 LADY HUNTINGTON.

CHAPTER VIII.
FAMILY MATTERS— CHAPELS— BERRIDGE.
In the winter of 1756 and 1757 Lady Huntington
came to London with her family, and had her house
opened twice a week for the preaching of the gospel,
where Romame and Venn principally officiated.
"I rejoice," says Whitefield, "in the increase of
your ladyship's spfritual routs. I can guess at the
consolation such scenes must give to your soul. No
wonder you are distressed from other quarters. In
deed, my most noble and ever honored patroness,
thus it must be. Christ's witnesses must be purged
at home. Inward domestic trials fit for outward
public work. Nature recoUs when constrained to take
the cross, and it may be from a near and dear rela
tion's hand ; but infinite wisdom Itnows what is best."
The precise nature of these trials does not appear,
unless we may take a hint of them from the Countess
of Hertford, v/ho exclaims,
"What an affliction is Lord Huntington's dislike
to religion ; and what have not my Lords Chesterfield
and BoUngbroke to answer for. But he is most ten
der, respectful, and kind to Lady Huntington. This
is some consolation, and may we not hope that in a
course of time her example and the exceUent instruc
tion which he has received may have their full weight '

FAMILY MATTERS. 115
on his character." She also adds, "He is a most
interesting, elegant, and accomplished young noble
man, and very likely to make some figure in the
world. He was much affected by the death of Miss
Hotham, to whom it was said he was much attached."
Lady Gertrude Hotham, sister to Lady Chester
field, has been afready mentioned as one of the num
ber who dared to be singular for the Lord's sake.
Both in London and at Bath, she opened her house
to the ministrations of Whitefield, and she had the
happiness of seeing her eldest daughter born into the
spiritual family of her Lord. Miss Hotham adorned
her Christian profession both in her life and in her
death, which took place in the bloom of a ripe and
beautiful womanliood. WhUe ill, many prayers were
offered for her recovery at the administration of the
Lord's supper at Lady Huntington's, Lady Fanny
Shfrley's, and in her own home. One day when White-
field came and knelt at her bedside, she was desired
to remain as she was. "I can rise to take physic,"
she said ; " why not to pray ?" Her sick chamber bore
the flowers and fruits of a thorough Christian experi
ence. She knew whom she had believed, for the hope
which she had in her Saviour was indeed like an
anchor to her soul, sure and steadfast ; and the peace
and joy which she expressed even in the pangs of
dying, served in a most affecting and striking manner
to confirm, in the minds of her friends and companions
of the gay world, the precious truths of that gospel
which Whitefield proclaimed by his preachmg.
Lady Elizabeth Hastings, Lady Huntington's

116 LADY HUNTINGTON.
eldest daughter, married the Earl of Moira, a branch
of the Huntington family, and the comiection seems
to have given much satisfaction ; but "Lady Selina,"
says one, "is the greatest comfort to her mother ; she
is a most pious, amiable, and affectionate character ;"
so that, if there were shadows on Lady Huntington's
household, there were also sunbeams.
In September, 1757, v/e behold her suddenly caU
ed to Brighton by the illness of her fourth son. Honor
able Henry Hastings, who died at the age of eighteen
years. "Oh what strong physics is our heavenly Father
obliged to give us," wrote Whitefield to the bereaved
mother. "What pruning-knives do these luxuriant
branches requfre, in order to preserve the fruit and
delicacy of the vine. Blessed be God, there is a time
coming when these mysterious providences will be
explained. May the Lord Jesus raise you up many
comforters. Above all, may he come himself"
The Lord Jesus came himself, and so heaUng was
his heavenly presence, that we find the mourner bear
ing the precious balm to the humble homes in her
neighborhood. Behold her at the obscure lodgings of
a poor soldier's wife, carrying her food to eat and
raiment to put on, and inviting her to "the Lamb of
God, who taketh away the sin of the world." The
woman's room was next to a public bakehouse, where
the people who worked at the oven overheard the
pious conversation of a lady through a crack in the
ceiling. Wlien her visits became known, other poor
women begged to come in and be taught also, untU

FAMILY MATTERS. 117
a little company assembled daily with whom she pray
ed, read, and explained the Scriptures. One day a
blacksmith, notorious for his wickedness, swore he
would go to the meetings, and accordingly forced him
self in behind the women. When Lady Huntington
entered and saw a man in the corner, she was about
to ask him to withdraw, but on second thought con
cluded to go on as usual. Her simple, direct, and
affectionate exhortations touched the conscience of
the bold blasphemer. He who came to scoff went
away with the cry, "Lord, what shall I do to be
saved ?" A radical change took place in his charac
ter, and for nearly twenty-nine years he Uved to adorn
tho doctrine of his Lord and Saviour.
One day as Lady Huntington was walking out,
a lady suddenly accosted her, " Oh, madam, you are
come." Surprised at so abrupt an address from an
entire stranger, she feared the woman was deranged.
"What do you know of me?" asked the countess.
"Madam, I saw you in a dream three years ago,
dressed as you now are," answered the stranger, and
then related other cfrcumstances connected with the
dream. Singular as these cfrcumstances were, an
acquaintance was formed between them, and Lady
Huntington became instrumental in the conversion
of her new-found friend, who died a year afterwards
in the triumphs of faith.
Thus did this remarkable woman lay out a field
for the labors of "Whitefield, who visited Brighton in
1759, and preached his first sermon under a spread
ing tree in the midst of a large meadow.

118 LADY HUNTINGTON.
Brighton, or Brighlhelmstone, as it was then com
monly called, in the county of Sussex, fifty-two miles
south of London, was not at that time the famous
watering-place it has since become. Its buildings
were comparatively mean and its population poor,
presenting a strong contrast to the splendid edifices
and spacious accommodations which now make
Brighton one of the favorite summer resorts of the
EngUsh. A spfrit of religious inqufry was kindled among
the people. They hungered for the bread of life.
Nor when they asked bread, could they be satisfied
with a stone, or husks, for they wanted that of which
if a mian eat he shall never hunger. A small soci
ety gathered in an "upper chamber;" they were
poor in worldly goods, but rich in faith ; despised, but
not forsaken. In order to strengthen their hands,
I;ady Himtington determined to buUd a small chapel
for thefr use near her own house in North-street,
though straightened in means, for her benefactions
were already numerous. To resolve, with her, was to
accomplish. Wherein could she curtail ? There lay
her jewels, long since put aside for a pearl of infinitely
greater price, and these she determined to offer to
her Lord. They were sold for sis hundred and ninety-
eight pounds, and Vv^ith this she erected a neat house
of worship, v,rhich was opened in 1760. Here Ro
maine, .Venn, and other godly men labored with apes-
tolio zeal, and though their work was often evJl-
spoken of, the Lord " added to the church daily of
such as should be saved." Brighton henceforth be-

CHAPELS. 119
came one of her favorite places of residence. This
was the small beginning of one of her greatest enter
prises — this was the first of those houses of divine
worship known by her name, which in a few years
dotted the English soil ; and its interests so prospered,
that in five years the building needed a considerable
enlargement. On the day previous to its reopening, she set apart
several hours for private devotion, like Jacob of old,
to wrestle with Jacob's God for his blessing on this
sanctuary reared to his name ; and in the evening a
meeting was held at her house for the same purpose :
so greatly did she honor the meroy-seat, and so ffrmly
did she trust in the power of prayer.
At that time there were many spfritual wastes m
the county of Sussex, and Lady Huntington was on
the alert to cast in the good seed wherever an oppor-
tunity offered, or if possible to make opportunities iii
a cause so pressing and momentous. While making
inquiries for securing a preaching spot at Oathall,
ten miles from Brighton, an old gentleman unexpect
edly came and offered to lease her for a certain num
ber of years the mansion of Oathall, a house on an
estate belonging to one branch of the Shirley family.
His terms were promptly and thankfully accepted,
and workmen were immediately engaged to fit up a
large room for divine worship, and prepare the remain
der of the house for the accommodation of herself
and her chaplains. Here the gospel was faithfully
preached, and with marked effect. During the sum
mer, a regiment of soldiers was quartered in the

120 LADY HUNTINGTON.
vicinity. The captain, a gay officer, went out one
day on a sporting frolic, and was forced by a violent
shower to seek shelter under a shed with a farmer and
his laborers, with whom he soon entered into conver
sation; the farmer was a Christian man, and the
talk took a reUgious turn. His remarks surprised
and interested the officer, and he asked where so much
had been learned about divine things.
" In that haU yonder," answered the farmer,
" where there is a famous man, a Mr. Romaine,
preaching for Lady Huntington ; you would do weU
to go and hear him for yourself."
Captain Scott, moved by all the circumstances,
determined to do so, and on the following Sabbath
bent his steps thitherward. On entering the haU,
the devout and serious afr of the congregation forcibly
impressed his mind ; wlUle Mr. Romaine's remarks
from the words of the Saviour, " I am the way,"
were as goads and as nails fastened by the Master of
assemblies upon his conscience. Though a man of
pleasure, there had been times when a profound seri
ousness came over him, compelling him to pause and
ask, " Whither am I tendUig ?" Nor had these sea
sons escaped the notice and ridicule of his companions.
He was now in the presence of one who seemed to
him to speak as man never before spoke, and they
were truths just suited to his case. He afterwards
made the acquaintance of Mr. Romaine in London,
whose prayers and instructions confirmed him in his
resolutions to seek with aU diligence to make his call
ing and election sure ; and as he had proved himself

CHAPELS. 121
a brave officer on the plains of Miiiden, so did he
become valiant in a better service, even a heavenlv.
When Captain Scott was on his way to Shrop-
slure, Romaine gave him a letter for Mr. Powys of
Berwick, a gentleman of high connections and large
fortune, and very zealous for the cause of God and
truth. Venn was at that time paying him a visit.
One morning after prayers, as they were looking from
the haU window. Captain Scott rode into the lawn
mounted on his military charger and dressed in his
uniform, bringing the letter entrusted to his care.
Mr. Powys recognized him in the distance and ex
claimed, " There is Captain Scott. What can he
want ? How can I avoid seeing him ?" for how
great an interruption would a gay officer be, with a
guest Uke Venn of Huddersfield ! The gentlemen
withdrew. Scott rode up to the door, and was receiv
ed with distant poUteness by Mr. Powys. On reading
Romaine's letter, giving an account of the captain's
conversion, Powys became much agitated ; he ran to
the officer, warmly embraced him, and cried, out,
" Mr. Venn, Mr. Venn, Mrs. Powys, come quickly.
Here is Captain Scott, a convert to Christ ; a new
creature in Christ Jesus !" How great was their joy
over him who had been lost, and was found ; dead, and
now made alive.
Let us hear of him again. " I went last Mon
day," said Fletcher, "to meet Captain Scott, one of
the fruits that have grown for the Lord at Oathall —
a captain of the truth — a bold soldier of Jesus Christ,
God hath thrown down before him the middle waU
Huntington 6

122 LADY HUNTINGTON.
of bigotry, and he boldly launches into an irregular
usefulness. For some months he has exhorted his
dragoons daily ; for some weeks he has preached pub
licly at the Methodist meeting-house at Leicester, in
his regimentals, to numerous congregations. The
stiff ones pursue him with hue and cry, but I believe
he is quite beyond thefr reach. God keep him zeal
ous and simple. I believe this red coat wiU shame
many a black one. I am sure he shames me."
Whitefield invited him to come to London and
" bring his artUlery to Tabernacle-rampart."
Captain Scott was an accomplished man, of an
ancient and respectable family, with flattering pros
pects of worldly advancement ; but worldly honors
now ceased to charm him : he quitted the army for
the ministry, and for twenty years was one of the
supplies at the Tabernacle, and his new labors were
crowned with abundant success.
Another of the first-fruits of Oathall was an old
man of a hundred years. He had long been serious,
"and had often complained that church-preaching was
not Uke church-prayers ; and though no friend to " new
measures," old Abraham determined one day to go and
hear for himself what kind of stuff they had at the
chapel. He listened with the profoundest attention
and delight while Mr. Venn discoursed of the love of
Christ, and could hardly contain himself for joy.
" Ah, neighbor," he exclaimed, as soon as the services
were over, tapping the shoulder of one who sat next
to him, " this is the very truth of God's word, which
I have been for ever seeking, and never found before

BERRIDGE. 123
Here wUl I tarry." And from that morning a new
Ufe was beating in the old man's bosom.
On one occasion when Brighton and Oathall
wei-e destitute of a supply. Lady Huntington sent for
a distinguished revival preacher to spend a few weeks
in these fields. In reply, he says, "I am determined
not to quit my charge again in a hurry. Never do I
leave my bees, though for a short space only, but on
my return I find th^m either casting or colting, or
fighting and robbing each other ; not gathering honey
from every flower of God's garden, but fflluig the air
with thefr buzzings, and darting out the venom of
thefr Uttle hearts in their fiery stings. Nay, so in
flamed they often are, and a mighty little thing dis
turbs them, that three months' tinkling afterwards
with a warmingpan will scarce hive them at last, and
make them settle to work again."
This quaint mixture of wit, sense, and bluntness
came from Rev. John Berridge, who is now intro
duced to our readers. His taU, stalwart figure looks
as if it was made to wear ; his deliberate and distinct
speech seems fit only for weighty words ; but beneath
the grave, nay, the solemn expression of his face there
is lurking a quiet humor, which gives a genial warmth
to his affections, and a gladsome play to his spirits,
rarely found in the lonely life of a bachelor : yet it
were a strange misnomer to call Berridge's life a
lonely one, for it was as stfrring as a hundred miles
riding, with ten or twelve sermons a week, could
make it, and that for a period of nearly five and
twenty years. At home his table was ever ready for

124 LADY HUNTINGTON.
his hearers, many of whom came from a distance —
his stables open to thefr horses ; while houses and
barns in every dfrection were rented and taken care
of for the lay-preachers employed at his expense on
errands of gospel love.
Berridge is settled at Everton, in Bedfordshire,
about thfrty miles north-west of London. In 1757,
two years after his removal thither, he began to be
in doubt and anxiety concerning his soul; for like
many others he had entered upon the work of the
ministry a stranger to that love which v/orks by faith
and purifies the heart. He beheld his own vineyard
parched and dry, unvisited by those showers of mercy
which enriched the labors of a more spfritual hus
bandry. " Lord, direct me," was his importunate cry ;
" show me thy way, and lead me to a knowledge of
the truth as it is in Jesus." The Holy Spirit visited
his soul ; a clearer light dawned upon his mind, and
salvation by Christ became the corner-stone of his
own hopes, and the refuge to which he bade aU men
flee from the wrath to come. The fruits of his new
ministry he thus describes :
" Soon after I began to preach the gospel at Ever
ton, the churches in the neighborhood were deserted,
and mine so overcrowded, that the squfre, ' who did
not like strangers,' he said, ' and hated to be incom
moded,' joined with the offended parsons, and lodg
ed a complaint against me. I was summoned before
the bishop.
" Well, Berridge," said the bishop, " did I insti-

BERRIDGE. 125
tute you to Eaton, or Potten ? why do you go preach
ing out of your parish ?'
" ' My lord,' says I, ' I make no claim to the
Uving of those parishes ; 'tis true I was once at Ea
ton, and finding a few poor people assembled, I ad
monished them to repent of thefr sins, and to believe
in the Lord Jesus Christ for the salvation of their
souls. At that very moment, my lord, there were
five or six clergymen out of thefr own parishes, and
enjoying themselves on the Eaton bowling-green.'
" ' I teU you,' retorted his lordship, ' that if you
continue preaching where you have no right, you wiU
be very likely sent to Huntington jail.'
" ' I have no more regard for a jail than other
folks,' rejoined I, ' but I had rather go there with a
good conscience than to be at liberty without one.'
"His lordship looked very hard at me. 'Poor
feUow,' he said, ' you are beside yourself, and in a
few months you wUl be either better or worse.'
" ' Then, my lord,' said I, ' you may make yourself
quite happy in this business ; for if I should be better,
you suppose I shaU desist of my own accord, and if
worse, you need not send me to Huntington jail, for
I shaU be better accommodated in Bedlam.'
" His lordship then pathetioaUy entreated me, as
one who had been and wished to continue my friend,
not to imbitter the remaining portion of his days by
any squabbles with my brother clergymen, but to go
home to my parish ; and so long as I kept within it, I
should be at liberty to do what I liked there. ' As
to your conscience,' he said, ' you know that preach-

126 LADY HUNTINGTON.
ing out of your parish is contrary to the canons of the
church.' " ' There is one canon, my lord,' said I, 'which I
dare not disobey, and that says, ' Go preach the gos
pel to every creature.' ' "
Although powerful patrons were displeased with
Berridge's career, friends equaUy powerful were raised
up for his defence, so that Everton and the region
round about ever continued to enjoy the unstinted
benefactions both of his heart and purse.
Berridge was forty in the year from which he
dates his "new birth," 1757. A few months after
wards he met Wesley, and a little later Whitefield,
against both of whom he had been strongly prejudiced.
He now welcomed them as beloved brethren in the
Lord. Lady Huntington soon made his acquaint
ance ; a warm friendship sprung up between the two.
Indeed, the richness and originaUty of his mind made
him an especial favorite ; while his sturdy sticking to
his own notions of duty never gave offence to those who
undorstood the depth and singleness of his piety.

THE VALLEY OF BACA. 127
CHAPTER IX.
THE VALLEY OF BACA.
In the panoramic scene now moving before us, we
see Lady Huntington, in the beginning of 1757, at
Bath, accompanied by Lady Fanny Shirley and her
favorite daughter, Selina Hastings. On the fourth of
January, she went to Bristol to meet Mr. Wesley,
who returned with her to Bath, and preached several
times to the nobUity at her house. E arly in February
she returns to London; and on a day of public fast
ing and prayer goes to the Tabernacle to hear Mr.
Whitefield, who addressed an immense audience from
the solemn words, " Rend your hearts, and not your
garments." In the evening she is at the Foundry,
listening to Wesley, who preached to an overflowing
multitude. We now are present at the Lord's supper, adminis
tered on a Tuesday at her own house, by Whitefield,
assisted by Romaine and Madan. Of "Whitefield's
solemn address, she says, "AU were touched to the
heart, and dissolved in tears. My inmost soul felt
penetrated by the height and depth of that love which
passes knowledge, and I was ready to say with Peter,
' It is good to be here.' Lord, teach me how to im
prove to the utmost these gracious visitations."
Who the "all" were is not known, but among
the communicants were the Countess of Chesterfield,
Lady Gertrude Hotham, Earl and Countess of Dart-

128 LADY HUNTINGTON.
mouth, Mr. Thornton, Venn, Fletcher, and other less
famUiar names.
This service concluded. Earl Chesterfield, with a
few others, entered, when "Whitefield preached from
the passage, " Him that cometh unto me I wUl ic
no wise cast out."
"The Lord was eminently present," she says;
" the word seemed clothed with an irresistible energy,
and drew sighs from every heart, and tears from
every eye. Mr. Fletcher concluded with a prayer,
every syUable of which seemed uttered under the im.
mediate teachings of the Spfrit ; and he has told me
since, that he never had more intimate communion
with God, or enjoyed so much of his immediate pres
ence, as on that occasion. Ah, how poor and fri-
fling does all created good appear, when thus highly
favored of God. He in mercy keeps me sensible of
my weakness and dependence upon himself, for which
I praise him. He has strengthened my body to under
go more fatigue than usual, without being hurt by it.
Bless the Lord, 0 my soul, and forget not all his
benefits." It was in the summer of this year that cries and
convulsions, which attended the early preaching of
Wesley, appeared among the hearers of Berridge.
Lady Huntington begged Mr. Romaine to visit Ever
ton, and witness the phenomenon. He was warmly
welcomed by the vicar and Mr. Hicks of Westltng-
worth, whose preaching produced simUar effects.
After conversing with those who had faUen into con
vulsions, and accompanying the preachers on their

THE VALLEY OF LACA. 129
rounds, he felt persuaded that the work was the re
Ugion of God, though occasionally mingled with the
wildness of enthusiasm. Wesley also went to Ever
ton for this purpose. "I have often observed," he
tells us, " more or less of these outward symptoms to
attend the beginning of a general work of God. So
it was in New England, Scotland, Holland, Ireland,
and many parts of England; but after a time they
gradually decreased, and the work goes on more
quietly and sUently." Ralph Erskine treats the sub
ject with less indulgence.
Wesley thus pleasantly discourses to Lady Hunt
ington. " The agreeable hour which I spent with your
ladyship the last week, recaUed to my mind the
former times, and gave me much matter for thank
fulness to the Giver of every good gift. I have found
great satisfaction in conversing with those instru
ments whom God has lately raised up. But stiU
there is, I know not what, in those whom we have
known from the beginning, and who have borne the
burden and heat of the day, which we do not find in
those who have risen up since, though they are up
right of heart. Perhaps, too, those who have lately
come into the harvest are led to think and speak
more largely of justification and the other first prin
ciples of the doctrine of Christ. And it may be proper
for them to do so, yet we find a thfrst after something
farther. We want to sink deeper and rise higher in
the knowledge of God our Saviour. We want aU
helps for walking closely with him, whom we have

130 LADY HUNTINGTON.
received, that we may the more speedUy come to the
measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ.
"Mr. Berridge appears to be one of the most
simple, as weU as most sensible men of aU whom it
pleases God to employ m revivuig primitive Chris-
tianity. They come now twelve or fourteen miles to
hear him, and very few come in vain. His word is
with power ; he speaks as plain and homely as John
Nelson, but with all the propriety of Mr. Romame,
and the tenderness of Mr. Hervey.
"At Colchester, likewise, the word has free
course. On Sunday I was obliged to preach on St,
John's-green ; the people stood on a smooth sloping
ground, sheltered by the walls of an old castle, and
behaved as men who felt that God was there.
" I am persuaded your ladyship stUl remembers in
your prayers your willing servant, for Christ's sake,
"JOHN WESLEY."
Though Lady Huntington honored and admUed
this noble reformer, he crosses the path of our nar
rative less frequently than we could wish. He occa
sionally preached both at her house and in her chapels,
but his own field is broad, his own work great, and
he is laying deep the foundations of that ecclesiastical
polity which has given such expansive and conquer
ing power to the Methodist cormection.
Lady Huntington was anxious to visit Everton,
and witness for herself the surprising effects produced
there by the preaching of the gospel. On the morn
ing after the arrival of her party, a large concourse of
people assembled at an early hour. At seven o'clock.

THE VALLEY OF BACA. 131
Mr. Berridge preached in a field near the church,
when the "power of God fell upon the assembled
multitude in a very uncommon manner." Messrs.
Venn, Madan, and Fletcher held services other parts
of the day. The coming of Lady Huntington, and
the preachmg of her ministers, was speedily noised
abroad, so that by the next day ten thousand assem
bled to hear them. While Mr. Venn was impressively
exhorting from the solemn words of the prophet, " The
harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we are not
saved," several individuals, men and women, " sunk
down and wept bitterly ;" and in the evening, under
the sharp, energetic eloquence of Berridge, " five per
sons, almost at once, sunk down as dead ;" others ut
tered, with a loud and bitter cry, " What must we do
to be saved ?" In a Uttle time all was sUent, and the
preacher concluded his discourse.
On Lady Huntington's return to London, Berridge
accompanied her, for she was anxious to introduce
him into the religious cfrcles of. the metropolis. Dur
ing his stay he preached several times in the city
churches, assisted both Whitefield and Wesley, ex
pounded almost every morning and evening at Park-
street, besides occasional lectures at Lady Gertrude
Hotham's, in Norfolk-street, Grosvenor-square, and
Lady Fanny Shirley's in South Audley-street.
Favored as Oak HaU had been by the blessing of
God, it was here that Lady Huntington was visited
by one of her severest family afflictions, which was
the death by fever of her youngest born. Lady Selina
Hastings, at the age of twenty-six.

132 LADT HUNTINGTON.
Amiable, accompUshed, and devotedly attached to
her mother. Lady Huntington's cares were lightened
by her affection and sympathy.
She was one of the six earl's daughters chosen to
assist the Princess Augusta to bear the train of Queen
Charlotte on her coronation day ; and she was soon to
have been married to Colonel George Hastings, a
cormection much approved by her mother. And yet
these charms of the present life had not rendered her
unmindful of that life which is to come.
" She was my dearest," said the weeping mother,
" the desfre of my eyes, and the continual pleasure of
my heart."
" On her going to bed the day she was taken UI."
continues she, from whose Ups we wiU learn of the
last sad scenes, " she said she should never rise from
it more. She said she did not begin to think about
death then, and that she had no desfre to live ; ' There
fore, my dear mother, why not now ? The Lord can
make me ready any moment; and if I live longer, I
may not be better prepared.' She desfred me to pray
by her, and with gi-eat earnestness accompanied me.
At one time she called me, and said, 'My dearest
mother, come and lie down by me, and let my heart
be laid close to yours, and then I shall get rest.' Dur^
ing the last four days, she often exclaimed, • Jesus,
teach me ; Jesus, cleanse me ; Jesus, wash me.' The
day before her death, I came to her, and asked if she
knew me. 'My dearest mother,' she answered. I
asked her if she were happy. Raising her head from
the pillow, she whispered, ' I am happy, verv. very

THE VALLEY OF BACA. 133
happy ;' and then put out her lips to kiss me. She
gave directions to her servant, Catharine Spooner,
about the disposal of some rings ; observing, that she
mentioned it to her, lest it should shook her dear
mother to tell her. She often said, ' To be resigned
to God's wUl was aU, and that she had no hope of
salvation but in the mercy of Jesus Christ.' Blessed
are the dead who die in the Lord."
Letters of sympathy and consolation came in from
aU her friends. Those of Mr. Berridge are worthy of
many readings.
"My Lady — I received your letter from Bright-
helmstone, and hope you v/Ul soon learn to bless
your Redeemer for snatching away your daughter
so speedUy. Metliinks I see great mercy in the sud-
deness of her removal ; and when your bowels have
done yearning for her, you wUl see it too. Oh, what
is she snatched from ? Why, truly from the plague
of an evil heart, a wicked world, and a crafty devU —
snatched from aU such bitter grief as now overwhelms
you — snatched from every thing that might wound her
ear, afflict her eye, or pain her heart. And what is she
snatched to ? To a land of everlasting peace, where
the voice of the turtle is ever heard, where every in
habitant can ever say, ' I am no more sick :' no more
whim in the head, no more plague in the heart, but
all fuU of love and fuU of praise ; ever seeing with
enraptured eyes, ever blessing with adoring hearts,
that dear Lamb who has washed them in his blood,
and has now made them kings and priests unto God
for ever and ever. Amen. Oh, madam, what would

134 LADY HUSTINGTON.
you have ? Is it not better to sing in heaven, ' Worthy
is the Lamb, that was slain,' than to be crying at
OathaU, ' 0 wretched woman that I am ?' Is it
not better for her to go before, than to stay after
you? and then to be lamenting, 'Ah, my mother!'
as you now lament, ' Ah, my daughter !' Is it not
better to have your Selina taken to heaven, than to
have your heart divided between Christ and Selina ?
If she was a silver idol before, might she not have
proved a golden one afterwards? She has gone to
pay a most blessed visit, and you wUl see her again,
never to part more. Had she crossed the sea, and
gone to Ireland, you could have borne it; but now
she has gone to heaven, it is almost intolerable. Won
derful, strange love is this ! Such behavior in others
would not surprise me, but I could almost beat you
for it ; and I am sure Selina would too, if she was
called back but for one moment from heaven to gratify
your fond desfres. I cannot soothe you, and I must
not flatter you. I am glad the dear creature has gone
to heaven before you. Lament if you please, but
glory, glory, glory be to God, savs, "JOHN BEE-RIDGE.'-
In another letter, a week later, he says, " Oh,
heart, heart, what art thou ? a mess of fooleries
and absurdities ; the vainest, foolishest, craftiest,
wickedest thing in nature. And yet the Lord Jesus
asks me for this heart, woos me for it, died to win it !
0, wonderful love ; adorable condescension .'
" Take it, Lord, and let it be
Ever closed to all but thee."

THE VALLEY OF BACA. 136
A fortnight later, he again says, " Mrs. Batcraan
has sent me a mighty pretty letter to coax me inio
Sussex, and withal acquaints me your ladyship has
been UI of a fever, and is now better. I was glad to
hear of both. Nothing expels undue grief of mind
Uke bodily corrections. Nothing makes the child
leave crying like the rod ; at least, I find it so by
experience. However, I durst not send such conso
lations to many Christians, because they are not able
to see the truth, or bear the weight of it. I found your
heart was sorely pained, and I pitied you, but I durst
not soothe you ; for soothing, though it eases grief but
a moment, only makes Lady Self more burdensome,
and occasions more tears in the end. A little whipping
from your Father wiU dry up your tears much sooner
than a thousand pretty luUabies from your brethren.
I now hope you will be weU soon."
Venn tenderly writes from Huddersfield, "Among
the many in these parts who have a love for your
ladyship's name, and a tender sympathy with you as
a member of Christ, I desfre to assure your ladyship,
I do not forget to offer up many prayers that your
present very severe cross may be sanctified, and the
agonizing separation made supportable by larger
manifestations of the faithfulness and marvellous lov
ing-kindness of God our Saviour."
As soon as it was possible for him to leave his
charge, Venn visited the bereaved mother at Brigh
ton, and went back from there to London to superin
tend the publication of his " Complete Duty of Man,"
which was brought out this year, 1763. Precious as

136 LADY HUNTINGTON.
his visit must have been to the mourner, he could
respond, " It was indeed a great blessing to my soul ;"
so unspeakably enriching is that feUowship which is
in Christ Jesus.
Berridge also came to Oathall during the sum
mer, where his ministrations were cordially welcomed
by the people in aU the region round about. "White-
field was on his way to the new world.
Grimshaw of Haworth also died in the spring of
this year, of a highly infectious fever, which spread
extensively through his parish. From the ffrst attack
of the disease he felt that it would be fatal, and looked
in the face of the king of terrors as if it had been the
face of an angel. " Never had I such a visit from
God since I knew him," said the dying man. He
was in the fifty-fifth year of his age, and the twenty-
first of his ministry at Haworth.

BLACK.FRIARS. 137

CHAPTER X.
ELACKFRXARS— CHAPEL AT BATH— LADY GLEN
ORCHY.
For many years Mr. Romaine lived in Walnut-
tree Walk, Lambeth, where he had a little garden,
winch he planted and took care of himself; and where,
with his annuals and biennials, sprung up also im
mortal plants, for in 1755 he married, and children
were born to him. His regular salary at this time
was but eighteen pounds a year, derived from the
lectureship of St. Dunstan's ; and though the means
of Uving flowed in from other sources, he was com
pelled to be frugal in his habits, and prudent in his
expenditures. Equally frugal of his time, he often
received his friends to an early breakfast. " I break
fasted one morning with him," said a young clergy
man, " and on taking some bread, which I thought
very good, he spoke of a certain physician vfho thought
London bread should not be given to sick people, on
account of its too frequent adulteration previous to
baking: he then clearly and forcibly touched on a
variety of modes by which the word of God was mixed
up with the Ul-leaven of other ingredients, so as to
deprive it of its heaven-imparted sustenance ; and this
he did in such easy, familiar, and yet pointed terms,
and with such paternal benignity of look, that I was
equaUy pleased and profited by the interview, and it

138 LADY HUNTINGTON.
has certainly served to render bread to me of more
value, both as a support and as a sign." Thus was
he intent upon turning every occasion to some spir
itual account.
In 1764, the living of St. Ann's, Blaokfriars,
became vacant, " and it was immediately impressed
upon my mind, that the vacancy was to be fUled by
dear Mr. Romaine," said Lady Huntington, opening
the matter to the Lord Chancellor. The right of
presentation was vested alternately in the crown and
in the parishioners ; it was now subject to the latter.
The parishioners were sounded by his friends, and
although some of them had entertained little hopes
of his success, to thefr surprise there was a general
interest in his favor. "But he is too proud to ask
your votes," it was said by his opponents, " while the
candidate in canonicals comes hat in hand, bowing
from door to door." Mr. Romaine, who was absent
in Yorkshfre, was speedily apprized of what his friends
had been doing in his behalf; and at the time appoint
ed for the candidates to preach, he was in London,
and preached from the words, "We preach not our
selves, but Christ Jesus the Lord, and ourselves your
servants for Jesus' sake."
Alluding to the reports which had been circulat
ed in consequence of Ins not having solicited their
votes in the too common way, he says, " Some have
insinuated it was from pride that I would not go about
the parish, from house to house, canvassing for votes;
but truly it was another motive. I could not see how
this could promote the glory of God. How can it be

BLAOKFRIARS. 139
for the honor of Jesus, that his ministers, who have
renounced fame and riches and ease, should be most
anxious and earnest in the pursuit of those very
things which they have renounced ? Surely this
would be getting into a worldly spirit, as much as
the spfrit of parliamenteering. And as this method
of canvassing cannot be for Jesus' sake, neither can
it be for his honor : it is far beneath our function ;
nor is it for your profit. What good is it to your
souls? What compliment to your understandings?
Is it not depriving you of the freedom of your choice ?
Determined by these motives, when my friends of
thefr own accord put me up as a candidate, to whom
I have to this hour made no application, directly or
indfrectly, I left you to yourselves. If you choose
me, I desire to be your servant for Jesus' sake; and
if you do not, the will of the Lord be done."
This dignified stand won him favor : at the second
balloting, Mr. Romaine received a large majority of
votes ; but the two other candidates taking advantage
of some flaw in the manner of proceeding, the case
was carried into the court of Chancery. It was some
time before the matter was decided, and Romaine
was accused of being too easy about the result.
"Blaokfriars church is desfrable," he replies, "but
we cannot tell whether Jesus wants it or not: if
he does, he wUl bring it about; if not, his will be
done." "WhUe this important matter was pending, we find
Lady Huntington and her chaplains sowing and reap
ing at Lewes, situated at the edge of the South Downs,

140 LADY HUNTINGTON.
eight miles north-east of Brighton. The town is an
cient and of marked historical interest. In the ivy-
clad ruins of a castle and priory are the memorials
of a feudal age, of monks and cowls ; here also was a
battleground once red with the conflict between royal
and baronial power ; "the mise of Lewes" is known in
history as one of those agreements which armed men
entered upon only to break at a more convenient sea
son. Lady Huntington obtained one of the regular
churches for Mr. Romaine ; his searching appeals
angered his brethren, and he was refused another
hearing : a large room was then obtained, and, better
still, such was the frrepressible eagerness with which
the people flocked to hear him, he spoke in the open
air. "All gave solemn heed," said Lady Hunting
ton, "while he applied those solemn words, 'Behold
the Lamb of God, who taketh away the sin of the
world.' I did not see one careless or inattentive per
son, and there is reason to think many poor sinners
were cut to the heart."
In the same year also, 1765, active measures
were taken to erect a chapel at Bath, the resort alike
of the fashionable and the afflicted. The summer
months found tlus city thronged with people in quest
of change, excitement, society, or health, thoughtless,
restless, aimless.
From time to time, Whitefield had proclaimed
here the "good tidings" of redemption. As early as
1752 he preached at the house of Lady Huntington
for three weeks to large cfrcles of the gay world ;
%.iee yea^s afterwards, Lady Gertrude Hotham threw

THE CHAPEL AT BATH. 141
open her doors for his ministrations ; the city had been
also blessed in less public ways with the labors of
those who loved their Lord ; and it seemed to be now
a fitting time for the creation of a place of worship
where the awakened clergy could have a wider sphere
to work in.
In the summer of 1765, Lady Huntington bought
a piece of land in the vineyards of Bath, and made
preparations for buUding. Meanwhile Lord Chester
field offered his chapel at Bretly Hall, in Derbyshfre,
to be used by her chaplains during thefr summer
tours. Gladly did she accept the offer ; and the old
domain, so often echoing with the noise of revelry,
now resounded with the proclamations of the gospel,
for Romaine. is in the pulpit, and Whitefield in the
park. This was in July. Referring to this period,
Romaine says, "Fifteen pulpits were open to me
here, and showers of grace came down."
One of the gentlemen of Lady Huntington's party
rambled one day among the grand and beautiful
scenes of the famous Derbyshfre peaks. Weary with
his wanderings, he sought rest and refreshment in a
humble cottage among the heights. Beginning a talk
with the woman, he was surprised to find her an
inteUigent and warm-hearted Christian. He asked
If there were many like-minded, and if the gospel
were often preached in her neighborhood.
"Alas, no," she replied, "I have not a creature of
the same mind to converse with ; I am quite alone ;
those I see and talk with know nothing of the grace
of God in Christ."

142 LADY HUNTINGTON.
"And pray, how came you to know it?" asked
the gentleman.
"Why sir," she answered, "some time ago there
was a famous man down in this country, called Mr.
Romaine ; he preached some miles off, and many of
the neighbors went to hear him. So I thought I would
go too ; accordingly away I trudged, and he had no
sooner begun his discourse, than it all seemed dfrected
to me : he opened the depravity of my heart, con
vinced my conscience of my sins, showed me the
wages of death which were due to me, and the truth
of it I felt in my own soul. He then opened the ful
ness and glory of Christ, described his sufferings and
death, displayed the riches of his grace to the miser
able, and invited them to embrace it aii.d be blessed.
Sir, you cannot think the instantaneous and wonder
ful effect it had on me ; I was convinced of sin, jus
tified by faith, and came home rejoiciiTg. From that
day to this I have never lost the sweet savor of those
truths. How I long to see the gentleman again. Do
you know him ? I think they said he came from
London." ,
The gentleman and the poor cottager were no
longer strangers. They were of the same spfritual
household, and beheld in each other the likeness of
their Lord. She had probably heard the London
preacher on one of his summer tours to Ashby, which
was not far off.
By October, the chapel at Bath was finished. In
the latter part of September, Lady Huntington sent
for Romaine to attend her at Bath. He is now in

CHAPEL AT BATH. 143
Brighton, and replies, "The society most earnestly
entreat you, if Mr. Madan should come down to
Bath, that I may be suffered to stay here with them.
Why should Bath have all, and poor Brighton none ?
My very heart and soul are at work here now, inas
much as I have not minded going to Oathall wet to
the skin, for the joy that was set before me." Lady
Huntington urged no more. On the 6th of October,
the dedication services were performed by Whitefield,
who says, " Though a wet day, the place was crowded ;
and assuredly the great Shepherd and Bishop of souls
consecrated and made it holy ground by his presence."
Here Romaine spent many of his vacations ; and
though he had not the commanding eloquence of
Whitefield, his clear and pungent exhibitions of
truth, sharpened by a critical knowledge of the word
of God, powerfuUy affected the consciences of his
hearers, and constrained men to flee from the wrath
to come. Here also Fletcher pleaded with the prod
igals and prayerless, with that frresistible sweetness
and seriousness so peculiar to him. " Dear Mr. Fletch-"
er's preaching is truly apostoUc," says Lady H  ;
"the divine blessing accompanies his word in a very
remarkable manner ; he is ever at his work, is amaz
ingly foUowed, and singularly owned of God."
The chapel was not only frequented by the true
hearers of God's word, but the fame of its eloquent
preachers attracted the most distinguished visitors of
Bath. "It is certainly very neat, with its true Goth
ic windows," Horace Walpole tells us, who went there
to hear Wesley; "I was glad to see luxury creeping

144 LADY HUNTINGTON.
in upon them before persecution. They have boys
and girls with charming voices, who sing hymns in
parts. At the upper end is a broad hautpas of four
steps advancing in the middle ; at each end of the
broadest part are two eagles, with red cushions for the
parson and clerk. Behind them rise three more steps,
in the midst of which is a thfrd eagle for a pulpit;
scarlet armchairs in all three. The congregation sit
on forms. Wesley is a clean elderly man, fresh color
ed, his hair smoothly combed, but with a little soup-
9on of curls at the ends. Wondrous clever, but as
evidently an actor as Garrick. There were parts and
eloquence in his sermon, but towards the end he ex
alted his voice and acted very vulgar enthusiasm."
"Many were not a little surprised at seeing me in
the Countess of Huntington's chapel," says Wesley;
"the congregation was not only large, but serious,
and I fully delivered my soul."
Among the visitors of Bath this season, were Lord
and Lady Glenorchy of Scotland. They had just re
turned from the gayeties and excitement of a conti
nental tour, when Lady Glenorchy was laid by from a
severe Ulness at Great Sugnal, situated a short dis
tance from Hawkstone, the celebrated seat of Sir Row
land Hill. Lady Glenorohy's intimacy with the HUl
family had led her to some acquaintance with a spfr
itual Christianity, and impressed strongly upon her
mind the idea that there was a higher and better life
than that of a heartless round of fashionable follies.
On her sick-bed that life dawned upon her soul. She
found Jesus Christ, the tried corner-stone, elect and

LADY GLEJSORCHY. 146
precious ; and though gifted, beautiful, and young, for
she was now but twenty-four. Lady Glenorchy reso
lutely turned her back upon the gay world, and con
secrated herself to the service of her heavenly Master.
Her nearest friends were alarmed and angry ; they
hastened to drive from her mind this strange and
unwonted seriousness, and her husband was advised
immediately to leave the country for the gayer resorts
of Bath and London. They came to Bath : at Bath
she met Lady Huntington, and at Bath she had a
precious opportunity of hearing that preaching which
confirmed her faith and nourished her soul. She was
one of the earliest attendants upon the ministrations
of the new chapel.
"Doubtless the world condemns your choice,"
wrote Miss HUl, almost the only pious friend whose
instruction and countenance Lady Glenorchy enjoyed,
"and has been telUng you, you are sadly lost to your
friends and acquaintances, and with an affected sort
of pity would fain entangle you in its snares. ' Re
member,' saith our blessed Lord, 'the word that I
said unto you. The servant is not greater than his Lord :
if they have persecuted me, they wiU also persecute
you ; if they have kept my saying, they will keep
yours also. These things have I spoken unto you,
that ye should not be offended.' These v/ords of our
Ijord are sufficient consolation to every believer. Un
der thefr influence let us, my dear friend, learn daily
that glorious lesson, to 'count all things but loss for
the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus our
Lord,' and think it our highest honor, that as we can
HuntiLjfton. /

146 LADY HUNTINGTON.
do so Uttle for Christ, we should be called in some
way or other to suffer for him, till he gives us our
discharge and takes us to share the triumphs of that
victorious faith which overcometh the world. May
this be our happy lot. I rejoice that you had resolu-
tion and fortitude to resist aU places of pubUc amuse
ment at Bath, and that you were enabled to see the
vast danger you were in of being again entangled in
the world ; whose delights you now happily find to be
so truly empty and so greatly disproportionate to the
moral capacities of the soul, that they are no more
capable of yielding any soUd contentment to an im
mortal mind, than the glow-worm glistening in the
hedge is capable of giving Ught to the universe. Let
us remember, that whatever we make our chief deUght,
to the neglect of Christ and his salvation, as it is
vanity in the fruition, so it shall surely be bitterness
in the end. But if the blessed Jesus say to us, ' Be
of good cheer, your sins are forgiven you,' and add that
blessed promise, ' I wiU never leave you, nor forsake
you,' we cannot but be truly happy. Let me warn
you not to give way to unbeUeving doubts and fears,
which are highly dishonorable to God, and most de
structive to your own peace and comfort. Do trust
him ; he will certainly perfect the work he has begun.
Wliat if your duties are imperfect, your graces at
times weak, and your comforts faU ; is not Christ
stUl the same ? Look upon him as a full Saviour, and
rest satisfied that he can save to the uttermost."
Lady Huntington became deeply interested in
this youthful disciple, thus struggling with foes within

LADY GLENORCHY. 147
and temptations without, and we may well suppose
how comforting and inspiring both her conversation
and example must have been to the feinting, yet
faithful heart of Lady Glenorchy.
On her return to Edinburgh in the spring, we
find- her not unmindful of the blessing, for she writes,
"How shaU I express the sense I have of your good
ness, my dear madam ? It is impossible, in words.
"When you say your heart is attached to me, I tremble
lest I prove an additional cross to you in the end, and
the pain I suffer in the apprehension of this is un
speakable. I hope the Lord permits it as a spur to me
to be watchful, and to keep near to him, who alone is
able to keep me from falling. I can truly say, that next
to the favor of God, my utmost ambition is to be found
worthy of the regard which your ladyship is pleased to
honor me with, and to be one of those who shall make
up the crown of your rejoicing in the day of our Lord."
Soon after her departure, arrived Lady Sutherland,
sister of Lady Glenorchy, accompanied by her hus
band, both of whom were deeply suffering from the
death of thefr eldest born. They were commended to
Lady Huntington's ever ready sympathies. " Never,"
says she, "have I seen a more lovely couple; they
may indeed with justice be called the Flower of
Scotland. The good providence of God has, I hope,
directed them here in order to lead them to tho foun-
tain of living waters. Dear Lady Glenorchy is ex
tremely anxious on thefr account."
They attended the preaching of Whitefield, who
was then at Bath ; but only for a Uttle while, for both.

148 LADY HUNTINGTON.
within a short time of each other, died of putrid-fever.
The mournful event spread a general gloom over the
gay city, and for a moment there seemed to be a pause
in the whirl of pleasure. Two sermons were preached
on the occasion in Lady Huntington's chapel, attended
by almost all the nobUity then at Bath.
During the summer, Whitefield spent much time
between Bath and Bristol. "As my feverish heat
continues," he says, " and the weather is too wet to
travel, I have compUed with the advice of friends,
and commenced hot- well-water drinking twice a day.
However, twice this week, at six in the morning, I
have been enabled to caU thirsty souls to come and
drink of the water of Ufe freely. To-morrow evening,
God wUling, the call is to be repeated. Good seasons
at Bath ; good seasons at Bristol. Large auditories.
Grace, grace."
Whitefield was followed by Venn, who not only
instructed and inspfred from the pulpit, but charmed
by the easy flow of his conversation in the social
cfrcle. To return to St. Ann's, Blaokfriars, and the suit
between Romaine and his competitors pending in
Chancery. In February, 1766, a decree was issued
in his favor, to the great joy of all who knew him and
felt for the cause of truth. WhUe receiving the con
gratulations of his friends, he simply said with pro
found seriousness, "It is my Master's wUl, and I sub-
mft." To Lady Huntington he writes, "I had promised
myself a little rest and retfrement in the evening of

ROMAINE. 149
life, but my fine plan is broken all to pieces. I am
called into a public station and to the sharpest engage
ment, just as I had got into winter quarters — an en
gagement for life. I can see nothing before me, so
long as I Uve, but war, and that with unreasonable
men, a divided parish, an angry clergy, a wicked
Sodom, and a wicked world ; all to be resisted and
overcome. Besides all these, a sworn enemy, subtle
and cruel, with whom I can make no peace, no, not
a moment's truce, night and day, with all his chil
dren and his host, is aiming at my destruction.
"When I take counsel of the flesh, I begin to
faint ; but when I go to the sanctuary, I see my cause
good, and my Master is almighty, a tried friend ;
and then he makes my courage revive. Although I
am no way fit for the work, yet he caUed me to it,
and on him I depend for strength to do it, and for
success to crown it. I utterly despair of doing any
thing as of myself, and therefore the more I have to
do, I shall be forced to live more by faith upon him.
In this view, I hope to get a great income by my liv
ing ; I shaU want my Jesus more, and shaU get closer
to him. As he has made my appUcation to him more
necessary and more constant, he has given me stronger
tokens of his love. Methinks I can hear his sweet
voice, ' Come closer, come closer, soul ; nearer yet : I
wUl bring you into circumstances that you cannot
do one moment without me.' "
Romaine was now fifty years of age, beginning a
new career of thirty years' labor.

150 LADl HUNTINGTON.

CHAPTER XI.
THE INDIAN PRE ACHER — DARTMOUTH— juORD
BUCHAN.
The red men who roamed through the dense
forests skfrting their American colonies, were objects
of intense and curious interest to the people of Eng
land. While stories of wild adventure and romantic
incident "lent enchantment" to these far-off regions,
the darkness and degradation of savage Ufe pressed
sorrowfully upon the Christian heart ; efforts made
to propagate the gospel among the tribes were cor
dially responded to by English Christians ; and when
Samson Occum, an Indian preacher, visited those
eastern shores and stood before a London audience,
he was welcomed as the first-fruits of a speedy and
glorious harvest.
Dr. Wheelock's school for the education of Indian
youth, at Lebanon, Connecticut, excited a general
interest. It was patronized by the chief men of the
colonies, and besides other generous contributions both
at home and from abroad, Mr. Joshua Moor, a farmer
of Mansfield, Connecticut, had made it a substantia]
gift of land, with a building for a school-house ; in
memory of which, the school was called Moor's Indian
Charity school. Whitefield took it by the hand and
commended it to the kind charities of his EngUsh
friends.

THE INDIAN SCHOOL. 151
"My very dear Dr. "Wheelock," he writes from
London in 1760, "I have just time to write you, that
upon mentioning and a little enforcing your Indian
affair, the Lord of all lords put it into the heart of
the Marquis of Lothian to put into my hands fifty
pounds sterling ; you wiU not faU to send his lordship
a letter of thanks and some account of the school.
Now the great God has given us Canada, what wUl
become of us, if we do not improve it to his glory and
the conversion of the poor heathen ? Satan is doing
what he can here to bring the work into contempt,
by blasphemy and ridicule from both theatres. But
you know how the bush burned and was not con
sumed ; and why ? Jesus was, and is in it ; HaUelu-
jah. My hearty love to the Indian lambs."
A hundred pounds came also from an unknown
lady ; who she was, with Dr. Wheelock, we may be
permitted to conjecture. The doctor thus replies to a
friendly and encouraging letter from Lady Hunting
ton. "It arUmates and refreshes me much to find
such fervent love to Christ, and earnest care for the
perishing souls of poor savages, breathed forth by a
lady of such distinction. My Indian school lives and
flourishes only by the grace of God. My number of
late has been twenty-six. Two young EngUsh gentle
men belonging to it were lately ordained to the sacred
work, with a view, as soon as provision can be made
for thefr support, to a mission among the Six nations.
Three young Indians are appointed to be schoolmas
ters among those tribes, and six more to be assistants
for the summer, and return here in the fall. The

152 LADY HUNTINGTON.
aforesaid youth were aU appointed to thefr respective
services, not knowing we had a penny in stock to
support them, tiU a few days ago we were informed
by Mr. Whitefield's letter of a hundred pounds ster
ling from a lady unknown, devoted to the service of
this Indian design. My soul blesses the benefactress,
and the blessing of many ready to perish, I trust, will
come upon her. And then we, who can only con
jecture by whom the favor is conferred, shall, by the
account itself, and by the crown of glory given as the
reward of it, be fuUy assured of the hand by whom it
was done, where there shall be neither a possibility
or occasion to conceal her hberality any more."
The expenses of the school stUl oufrunning its
ordinary suppUes, Dr. Wheelock, with the advice of
his friends, concluded to send Samson Occum, one of
the most promising of his graduates, and then preacher
among the Narragansetts, in company with Rev. Na
thaniel Whitaker of Norwich, to soUcit benefactions
in England. They arrived in England in the sum
mer of 1767.
Having brought letters of introduction to Lady
Huntington, and afready enjoying the personal friend
ship of Whitefield, who was then in his native land,
they were speedUy introduced into the religious circles
of the metropolis. Occum excited universal attention.
He preached to large audiences both at the Taber
nacle and Tottingham chapel; and in his journey
through England and Scotland, was warmly welcomed
by Christians of every name.
"May God mercifully preserve him from the snare.?

DARTMOUTH. 153
of the devil," ejaculated his old instructor on hearing
of his flattering reception in the old world.
As the fruit of missionary enterprise, and a speci
men of well-dfrected efforts to christianize the savages,
the presence of Occum not only encouraged Christian
benevolence, but shamed the lukewarm and sUenced
the heartless ridicule of opposers. Whitefield, Wesley,
Romaine, and Venn, aU advocated the school, and
money flowed generously in. A board of trustees
was organized in London to receive contributions and
disburse them to Dr. Wheelock, according to his needs.
The Earl of Dartmouth was chosen president of this
board, among whom we find the weU-known names
of Charles Hotham and John Thornton. Seven thou
sand pounds were coUected in England, and between
two and three thousand in Scotland ; and thus, through
the favor of God, the interests of this Uttle school
found lodgement in the hearts of the great and good.
As its course of study was limited, and its pupils
had to be sent to distant coUeges in order to complete
thefr preparations for future usefulness, it was now
thought advisable by its friends in the colonies, to
enlarge its sphere of operations by removing it to a
more eUgible location and connecting a college with
it. Generous offers were made by different and dis
tant towns, to have it located within their borders.
General Lyman was anxious it should come within
his grant of government land on the Mississippi. The
governor of Massachusetts offered it a large tract in
Berkshire county; a larger offer was made by the
city of Albany, and a still more generous one issued
7*

154 LADY HUNTINGTON.
from Governor Wentworth of New Hampshire, con-
sisting of five hundred acres of land in the township
of Hanover, and a charter of the township of Landaff,
consisting of twenty-four thousand acres, with his own
agency to procure a royal charter for the coUege.
Dr. Wheelock sent these different proposals to the
Earl of Dartmouth, asking the advice of the board
of trustees. The offer of Governor Wentworth was
accepted, and the little shoot was planted in a granite
soil. It was in August, 1770, that Dr. Wheelock, then
in his sixty-first year, went forth from the ease and
comfort of the older settlements to make a new home
in the yet unbroken forests. The lofty pines were
leveUed, a little clearing opened to the sunlight, and
a few rude cabins erected, when the doctor's fam
Uy and pupUs, numbering seventy persons, began
thefr toilsome journey to the north. The ladies lum
bered along in a coach given him by some London
friends ; the rest, on horseback and on foot, left the
traveUed roads and plunged into the rude paths of
the wood ; the journey occupying as many weeks then,
as it now does hours. The doctor, like a patriarch in
the desert, gave them a hearty welcome in the name
of the Lord : gathering his flock around him, a hymn
of praise and the voice of grateful prayer broke upon
the deep soUtudes of the wUderness. His cheerful
courage and unflinching faith inspfred the most de
sponding; while, with the activity and enterprise of
youth, he laid out plans, selected sites, and shared all
the privations of his fellow- workers.

DARTMOUTH. 155
The frame of a college buUding, eighty feet in
length and two stories in height, was soon raised and
partially covered ; a haU and two or three rooms were
nearly finished, when the autumn storms, coming on
earlier than usual, put a stop to further progress.
Many were the hardships of this little colony during
the ffrst year of its existence ; want of water, scanty
supplies, coarse fare, drifting snows, beds made of
boughs, with the nameless, yet numerous discomforts
of new settlers, made up the stern discipline of this
long and dreary winter. Like Elijah, who founded
a school of the prophets in the wUderness of Jordan,
the good man fainted not, but trusted in Him who
is the refuge and the fortress of his people. Though
the snow lay four feet deep, and the sun was long in
oUmbing above the topmost pine — ^though the cold
northwester came Uke the breath of icebergs, there
were warm hearts and devout spfrits and busy hands
in this forest clearing.
God too was there with the tokens of his favor.
Through the reviving and converting influences of his
grace. Dr. "Wheelock, in January, had the unspeak
able satisfaction of gathering from his flock a church
of thirty members, who made a solemn dedication of
themselves to the service of God.
As a testimony of respect to William Earl of
Dartmouth, one of its earliest patrons and benefactors,
this institution was named Dartmouth College ; and
expressive of its bfrth and aim, its seal bears the sig
nificant motto, "Vox clamantis in deserto" — "The
voice of one crying in the vnlderness." Dartmouth

156 LADY HUNTINGTON.
CoUege, in the town of Hanover, New Hampshire,
is the cherished and venerated ahna mater of many
great and good men, whose names live in the great
heart of the republic, and whose virtues are the treas
ures of the church.
A portrait of its patron hangs in one of the col
lege halls. We look with admfration upon the hand
some features and ripened manhood of this wealthy
and accomplished EngUsh peer, but better and more
beautiful still is it to think of him as casting all his
honors at the Saviour's feet, and counting it his high
est privilege to be known as a foUower of Christ.
The king and some noblemen were once going
out upon an early morning ride. V/aiting a few mo
ments for Lord Dartmouth, one of the party rebulied
him for his tardiness. " I have learned to wait upon
the Kmg of kings before I wait on my earthly sov
ereign," was his reply. May the lofty and uncompro
mising tone of his religious character ever distinguish
the institution which bears his name.
The same year that Occum visited England, and
made glad the heart of Lady Huntington, she sor
rowed over the death of a dear and valued friend, Mrs.
Venn, who died at Huddersfield in the autumn of
1767. To sound judgment and exalted piety, there
was added a sweetness and vivacity of manner winch
rendered Mrs. Venn a charming companion. A friend
ship sprung up between the two on their fii'st intro
duction, while the Venns lived at Clapham, and it
ever continued a source of profit and pleasure to both.
Mr. Venn was deeply bereaved by the death of his

LORD BUCHAN. 157
wife ; it was an " unspeakable loss" both to himself
and his chUdren, yet behold the consolations vouch
safed to the children of God when afflictions break in
like a flood.
" Since the moment she left me," wrote the weep<^
ing husband to Lady Huntington, " I can compare
my sense of her being with the Lord to nothing but
a vision, it is so clear, so constant, so delightful.
At the same time the Lord gives me to see his own
infinite beauty, and to feel more and more his pre-
ciousness as a fountain of living waters to those who
are bereft of earthly joy. And well it is I am so
supported. For his own cause I cannot but conclude
the Lord does it, since immediately upon my un
speakable loss the opposers cried out, ' Oh, now you
wUl see what will become of his vauntings of the
power of faith, and the name of Jesus.' They knew
our great happiness, and they said, ' You will see your
vicar just like any one of us in the same situation.'
But my God heard and answered; so that when I
was mightUy helped by him to preach the very Sab
bath after her death, and not many hours after her
interment, their mouths were stopped, and the little
flock of Jesus, who had been praying for me with all
fervor and affection, say they have not had so great a
blessing since I have been among them."
The death also of Lord Buchan, a Scottish peer,
with the solemn pomp which attended his burial,
made a pause in the gayeties of Bath, and plunged
into sorrow a family circle whom Lady Huntington
dearly prized. He was brother to Lady Fran'jos

158 LADY HUNTINGTON.
Gardiner, and had long been intimately associated
with the religious circles of Scotland. In quest of
health, he came with his family to Bath just after
the opening of the Bath chapel ; here his intimacy
was renewed with Lady Huntington, and his family
was favored with frequent intercourse with aU the
awakening preachers of the day.
Lord Buchan found no aUeviation of his malady ;
his health grew worse, but with the daUy increasing
feebleness of his body, his soul was renewed day by
day. From the means of grace, to which he gave
dUigent heed, and the conversation of many emi
nent Christians, he gained clear views of Bible truth,
and was enabled to lay hold of the doctrines of the
cross as he had never done before. A few days before
his death, he sent for Lady Huntington to visit him.
Grasping her hand, he exclaimed, " I have no founda
tion of hope whatever, but in the sacrifice of the Son
of God ; I have nowhere else to look, nothing else
to depend upon for eternal life and salvation, and my
confidence in him is ffrm as a rook."
The impressive services which took place at his
funeral are so different from any thing within the
range of our observation on this side of the water,
that we may perhaps like to hear Whitefield's ac
count of them. "All hath been awful, and more
than awful," he tells us. " On Saturday evening, .
before the corpse was taken from Buchan house, a
word of exhortation, and a hymn sung in the room
where the corpse lay. The young earl stood with his
hand on the head of the coffin, the countess dowager

LORD BUCHAN. 159
on his right hand. Lady Anne and Lady IsabeUa on
his left, with other relatives on one side ; a few friends,
with all the domestics, on the other. At ten, the
corpse was removed to good Lady Huntington's chapel,
where it was deposited within a space raUed, covered
with black baize and the usual funeral concomitants,
except the escutcheons. On Sunday morning aU
attended in mourning at early sacrament. They
were seated by themselves at the foot of the corpse,
and, with thefr head servants, received first, and a
particular address was made to them. Immediately
after receiving, these verses were sung for them :
" ' Our lives, our blood we here present,
If for thy truths they may be spent ;
Fulfil thy sovereign counsel, Lord ;
Thy will be done, thy name adored.
Give them thy strength, 0 God of power ,
And then, though men and devils roar.
Thy faithful witnesses they '11 be :
'T is fixed — ^they can do all through thee.'
Then they received the blessing, and the noble mourn
ers returned to the good Lady Huntington's house,
which was lent them for the day. At eleven, public
services began. The bereaved relatives sat in order
within, and the servants outside the rail. The chapel
was more than crowded ; near three hundred tickets,
signed by the present earl, were given out to the
nobility and gentry to be admitted. All was hushed
and solemn. Proper hymns were sung, and I preached
from these words : ' I heard a voice from heaven, say
ing unto me. Write, Blessed are the dead that die in
the Lord.' Deep and almost universal impressions

160 LADY HUNTINGTON.
were made. The like scene, and, if possible, more
solenm, was exhibited in the evening. Ever since,
there hath been public service and preaching twice
a day. This is to be continued tUl Friday morning;
then all is to be removed to Bristol, in order to be
shipped to Scotland. For five days together we have
been attending to the house of mourning. Many,
I trust, are obliged to say, ' How dreadful is this
place.' Such a scene I never expect to see opened
again this side of eternity. Surely the death of this
noble earl will prove the life of many. He had great
foretastes of heaven : he cried, ' Come, Holy Ghost.'
He came, and fiUed him with great joy. 'Happy!
happy !' were his last words. The survivors feel the
influence ; they sit round the corpse, attended by
thefr domestics and supporters, twice a day. Two
sermons every day."
The young earl, twenty-four years of age at h^
father's death, joined himself to the people of God
and became valiant for the truth as it is in Jesus,
He soon after went to London, where he became
intimate with Lord and Lady Dartmouth, Lady
Gertrude Hotham, Lady Chesterfield, Romaine, and
"Whitefield. The latter says of him, "He stands
here in town against the opposition of his old com
panions like another Daniel ; he must be, nay he
hath already been, thrown into a den of lions ; but
he hath One with him who can stop the Uon's mouth."
Berridge, Fletcher, and Venn were appointed his
chaplains. " Though I feel not the least degree of
value for any honor that cometh of man," said Venn

LORD BUCHAN. 161
to Lady Huntington, on receiving the appointment,
" yet this pleases me very much, because I can
receive it in no other light than that of bearing a
pubUo testimony that Jesus, the God of the Chris
tians, is his God and his all."
Lady Anne Erskine, the eldest daughter of the
house, a lady of exemplary piety, now made her
home with Lady Huntington, a daughter in her
affections, a partner in her toUs, and a well-beloved
sister in the Lord Jesus Christ.
The funeral services of the earl, with the faithful
appUcation made of them by the impressive oratory of
"Whitefield, produced a deep seriousness at Bath, and
brought large numbers of the nobUity to Lady Hunt
ington's chapel. On the departure of Whitefield, she
was anxious to follow up the impression already
made v/ith the powerful preaching of Venn and Ber
ridge. She wrote in urgent terms to summon them
to Bath. "My lady," wrote Berridge from Everton, De
cember 26, 1767, " I had a letter from your ladyship
last Saturday, and another from Lord Buchan. His
letter requfred an immediate answer, which I sent on
Monday, and then went out a preacliing. I am now
returned, and sit down to answer yours. But what
must I say? Verily you are a good piper, but I know
not how to dance. I love your scorpion letters deaily,
though they rake the flesh off my bones, and I be
Ueve your eyes are better than mine, but I cannot
yet read with your glasses. I do know that I want
quickening every day, but I do not see that I want

162 LADY HUNTINGTON.
a journey to Bath. I have been whipped pretty
severely for fighting out of my own proper regiment,
and for rambling out of the bounds of my rambles ;
and whUo the smart of the rod remains on my back
it wUl weigh more with me than a thousand argu
ments. All marching officers are not general officers,
and every one should search out the extent of his
commission. A gospel minister who has a church
wiU have a diocese annexed to it, and is only an
overseer or bishop of that diocese ; and let him, like
faithful Grimshaw, look weU to it. An evangeUst
who has no church, is a metropolitan or cosmopolitan,
and may ramble all the kingdom, or aU the world
over ; and these are more highly honored than the
other, though they are not always duly sensible of
the honor. They are nearest to the apostoUc character
of any. " But whom do you recommend to the care of my
church ? Is it not one Onesimus who ran away from
Philemon ? If the dean of Tottenham could not hold
him in with a curb, how could the vicar of Everton
guide him with a snaffle? I do not want a helpei
merely to stand up in my pulpit, but to ride round
my district. And I fear my weekly circuits would
not suit a London or a Bath divine, nor any tender
evangelist that is environed in pruneUo. Long rides
and miry roads in sharp weather ; cold houses to sit
in, with very moderate fuel, and three or four children
roaring or rocking around you ; coarse food ; lumpy
beds to lie in, and too short for the feet ; stiff blan
kets, like boards, for covering ; rise at five in the

LORD BUCHAN. 163
morning to preach; at seven, breakfast; at eight,
mount a horse, with boots never cleaned, and then
ride home praising God for aU mercies. Sure I must
stay tUl your academy is finished, before I get an
assistant. " But enough of these matters. Let us now talk
of Jesus, whom I treat in my letters as I deal with
him in my heart, crowd him into a corner, when the
first place and the whole room belongeth of right to
himself. He has been whispering, of late, that I
cannot keep myself or the flock committed to me ;
but has not hinted a word as yet, that I do wrong in
keeping close to my fold. And my instructions, you
know, must come from the Lamb, not from the Lamb's
wife, though she is a tight woman. He has taught
me to labor for him more cheerfully, and to loathe
myself more heartUy, than I ever could before. I see
myself nothing and feel myself vile, and hide my
head, ashamed of all my sorry services. I want his
fountain every day, his intercession every moment,
and would not give a groat for the broadest fig-leaves
or the brightest human rags to cover me. A robe I
must have of one whole piece, broad as the law, spotless
as the light, and richer than an angel ever wore — the
robe of Jesus. And when the elder Brother's raiment
is put on me, good Isaac will receive and bless the
lying varlet Jacob."

l64 LADY HUNTINGTON.

CHAPTER XII.
TREVECCA.

At this period there were many pious students
both at Cambridge and Oxford; and although, as in
the coUege days of Wesley and "Whitefield, opprobrium
and opposition were stUl to be encountered, yet there
was now at length a larger cfrcle of brave and good
men throughout England to lend them sympathy and
assistance. The Cambridge band was headed by
Rowland Hill, who afready began to exhibit that fear
less zeal in the cause of truth, which afterwards ren^
dered him so conspicuous. In the bosom of Oxford,
was also a little company in whose hearts glowed the
ffres of devotion, and who, not content with being sav
ed themselves, went about in the by-wayg and ham^
lets of the poor, striving if haply they might be in^
strumental in saving others. This excited the jeal
ousy of the church, and the ridicule of thefr fellows,
A storm was gathering, which, after a few threaten
ing signs, burst upon the heads of six young men of
St. Edmund's HaU.
"A very odd affafr has happened here," says a
feUow of Baliol. " The principal of Edmund hall
has been indiscreet enough to admit into his haU,
by the recommendation of Lady Huntington, seven
London tradesmen ; they have little or no learning,
but have aU of them a high opinion of themselves, as

TREVECCA. 165
being ambassadors of ' King Jesus.' One of them,
upon that title conferred by himself, has been a
preacher. Complaint was made to the vice-chancel
lor, I beUeve, by the bishop of Oxford ; and he, in his
own right as vice-chanceUor, had last week a visita
tion of the haU. Sis: of the preaching tradesmen
were found so void of learning that they were expel
led. He has done well in removing from hence some
' ambassadors of King Jesus,' who were Ukely to do
more harm than good."
The expulsion is thus announced in the St. James
Chronicle : " On Friday, March 11, 1768, six students
belonging to Edmund hall were expelled the univer
sity, after a hearing of several hours before the vice-
chanceUor and some of the heads of the houses, for
holding Methodistical tenets, and taking upon them
to read, pray, and expound the Scriptures, and sing
ing hymns in private houses. The principal of the
college defended thefr doctrines from the thirty-nine
articles of the established church, and spoke in the
highest terms of the piety and exemplariness of their
lives ; but his motion was overruled, and sentence
pronounced against them. One of the heads of houses
present observed, that as these six gentlemen were
expelled for having too much religion, it would be
very proper to inqufre into the conduct of some who
had too little ; yet Mr. Vice-Chancellor was heard to
tell the chief accuser, that the university was much
obliged to him for his good work."
" It is a grievous thing," exclaimed Lady Hunting
ton, who looked on with a deep and painful interest,

166 LADY HUNTINGTON.
"to find men who have solemnly subscribed to the doc
trines of the Reformation, acting with such inconsist
ent cruelty, tyranny, and falsehood towards those who
conscientiously adhere to the tenets of our exceUent
church, and endeavor to propagate her principles."
This affafr served to quicken Lady Huntington in
maturing a project which she had long contemplated,
of establishing a coUege for the purpose of training
young men for the ministry ; she had been led to the
subject by finding how difficult it was to supply her
chapels with needful help, and especiaUy how impos
sible it was to enlarge her sphere of operations, under
the existing embarrassments.
After much deliberation and the counsel of liei
wisest and choicest friends, the plan of a college was
drawn up, into which only such young men should be
admitted as students, as gave evidence of piety and
were resolved to devote themselves to the work of the
ministry ; they were to remain three years at the
institution, board and education gratuitous, to receive
a new suit of clothes once a year, and on leaving
might enter the established church or any other Prot
estant religious denomination. Here pious young men
could be trained for the ministry unfettered by the
pecuUar restrictions of a university course, while very
many might be qualified for usefulness who could
UI afford a longer and more expensive pupUage.
Where should the new college be located ? Tre
vecca was fixed upon, in the parish of Talgarth, South
Wales. Perhaps not the least of the attractions of
Trevecca might have been, that here dwelt Howell

TREVECCA. 167
Harris, with no cooling of the holy fire, and no abate
ment of the Welsh vigor of his soul. But the frame
which had braved summer heats and winter colds in
his Master's service, had given way, and Harris sat
waiting in his battered tent for the summons to go
up higher. Mr. Verm, in one of his preachmg tours, visited
Trevecca, "happy Trevecca," as he caUs it; and
further adds, " Howell Harris is fiie father of that
settlement, and the founder. After laboring for fifteen
years more violently than any of the servants of Christ
in this revival, he was so hurt in body as to be con
fined to his own house for seven years. Upon the
beginning of this confinement, ffrst one, and then
another, whom the Lord had converted under his
word, to the number of near a hundred, came and
desfred to Uve with him, and they would work and
get thefr bread. By this means, near one hundred
and twenty men, women, and children, from very dis
tant parts of Wales, came and fixed thefr tents at
Trevecca. We were there three days, and heard their
experience, which they spoke in Welsh to Mr. Harris,
and he interpreted to us. Of aU the people I ever
saw, this society seems to be the most advanced in
grace. My heart received a blessing from them and
thefr pastor, which will abide with me."
Trevecca, then, was to be the seat of the proposed
college ; and for this purpose. Lady Huntington took
Trevecca House, a venerable structure dating back
as far as 1176, and had it opened for religious a^d
Uterary instruction, with a chapel dedicated to the

168 LADY HUNTINGTON.
worship of God, on the 24th of August, 1768. Mr.
Whitefield preached from the words, " In all places
where I record my name, I wUl come unto thee, and
bless thee." On the Sabbath following, he addressed
a congregation of some thousands, assembled in the
court before the house.
Mr. Fletcher of Madely was appointed president,
and shortly after. Rev. John Benson head master of
the institution.
"WhUe the project was approved and encouraged
by most of Lady Huntington's friends, there were
some who regarded it in a less favorable Ught, among
whom was Mr. Berridge.
Lady Huntington resided at Trevecca the greater
part of the year, and the "influence of her fervent
piety," says one, "was highly beneficial. The spirit
of devotion was everywhere apparent; when walk
ing in the neighboring vales, one might often hear
from several parts of the surrounding woodlands the
voice of social prayer, arising from little bands of
students who were pouring out thefr hearts before
God. "Active exertion was united with devotional exer
cises ; horses were kept for the purpose of conveying
the students to more distant places on Saturday after
noons, whUe the nearer viUages were visited on foot,
and thus the benefits of the coUege were felt through
out the surrounding towns and villages, to the dis
tance of twenty or thirty miles. Frequently a student
was sent to greater distances to preach in certain dis
tricts or rounds, as they were termed. On these

TREVECCA. 169
tours, chapels, private houses, market-places, or fields,
as occasion requfred, became the scene of his labors ;
and by this missionary work was the gospel introduc
ed, and the cause of Christ revived in very many
places, where we now find flourishing churches."
For many years, the anniversaries of this college
were scenes of deep and stfrring interest. Vast
crowds collected, sometimes numbering three thou
sand ; and on one occasion no fewer than one thousand
three hundred horses were turned into a large field
adjoining the ooUege, besides what were stationed in
the neighboring vUlages. Baskets of bread and meat
were distributed to the people in the court, whUo
ample feasts of the bread of Ufe were furnished by
some of the most distinguished preachers of that day.
The coUege was blessed by many tokens of the divine
favor ; extensive revivals of religion followed the
labors both of teachers and pupUs, until Mr. Ber
ridge, moved by the cheering news which ever and
anon reached the Everton parsonage, was constrained
to acknowledge the favorable change in his feelings,
and so wrote to its patroness.
" My Lady — ^When the frost broke up I became
miserable indeed, just able at times to peep into my
Bible, but not able to endure the touch of a quill. I
am now reviving, but not revived, and can venture
to take up my pen ; you wUl have its ffrst fruits, such
as they are.
" I am glad to hear of the plentiful effusion from
above on Talgarth. Jesus has now baptized your

170 LADY HUNTINGTON.
ooUege, and thereby shown his approbation of the
work ; you may therefore rejoice, but rejoice with
trembling. Faithful laborers may be expected from
thence ; but if it is Christ's coUege, a Judas wiU cer-
tainly be found among them. I beUeve the baptism
wUl prove a lasting one, but I beUeve the sensible
comfort wUl not always last as long. Neither is it
convenient. In the present state of things, a winter
is as much wanted to continue the earth fruitful as a
summer. If the grass were always growing, it would
soon grow to nothing ; just as flowers that blow much
and long, generally blow themselves to death. And
as it is thus with the ground, so it is with the labor
ers too. Afflictions, desertions, and temptations are
as needful as consolations. Jonah's whale wiU teach
a good lesson, as well as Pisgah's top. I see Jonah
come out of the whale cured of his rebelUon; I see
Moses go up to the mount with meekness, but come
down in a huff and break the tables. Further, I see
three picked disciples attending their Master to the
mount, and fall asleep there.
"I beUeve you must be clad only in sackcloth
while you tarry in the wUderness, and be a right
mourning widow until the Bridegroom fetches you
home. Jesus has given you a hand and a heart to exe
cute great tlungs for his glory, therefore he wUl deal
you out a suitable measure of afflictions to keep your
balance steady. Did Paul labor more abundantly
than all his brethren ? He had more abundant stripes
than they all. The Master wUl always shave your
crown before he puts a fresh coronet upon your head,

TREVECCA. 171
and I expect to hear of a six months' illness when I
hear of your building a new chapel.
"I cannot comfort you by saying that I think
your day is almost spent, and that your afternoon
shadows lengthen. Go on, my dear lady ; build and
fight manfully, and believe lustily. Look upward
and press forward. Heaven's eternal hUls are before
you, and Jesus stands with arms wide open to receive
you. One hour's sight and enjoyment of the Bride
groom in his place above, wiU make you forget all
your troubles by the way. Yet a little whUe, and He
that shaU come, wUl come, and receive you with a
heavenly welcome. Here we must purge and bleed,
for physic is needful, and a tender Physician admin
isters aU. But the inhabitants of heaven cry out and
sing, 'We are no more sick' —
" ' Ah, Lord, with tardy steps I creep,
And sometimes sing, and sometimes weep ;
Yet strip me of this trunk of clay,
And I will sing as sweet as they.'
" A very heavy time have I had for the last three
weeks — cloudy days and moonless nights. Only a
little consolation fetched down now and then by a
Uttle duU prayer. At times I am ready to wish that
sin and the devil were both dead, they make such a
horrible racket within me and about me. Rather let
me pray, Lord, give me faith and patience ; teach me
to expect the cross daUy, and help me to take it up
cheerfully. Wofully weary I am of myself, but know
not how to Uve daily and feast upon Jesus. A treas
ure he is indeed, but lies hid in a field, and I know

172 LADY HUNTINGTON.
not how to dig in the dark. May daUy showers from
above faU on you and refresh you, and the dew of
heaven Ught upon your chapels and college.
" I remain your affectionate servant in a loving
Jesus, "JOHN BERRIDGE."
Nor did Lady Huntington's friends rest in empty
expressions of approbation, for these were often sup.
ported by bank-notes. We find recorded five hundred
pounds, the second gift from John Thornton, towards
defraying the expenses of the institution, and a thou
sand pounds from some female friends who loved the
Lord. To Lady Glenorchy, who enclosed four hun
dred pounds. Lady Huntington writes,
" I am indeed bound to thank your ladyship most
sincerely for your generous gift to the coUege, which
has been the offspring of many tears and sfrong cry
ing to the great and glorious Head of the church.
This is surely one of the blessed effects of that faith
vnrought in your heart by the power of the Holy
Ghost. The coUege is in a most glorious state. The
unction of the Holy One is continuaUy descending
on its beloved inmates, and the love and harmony
that reigns among them all it is most deUghtful to
witness. Ffred with a zeal for God and perishing
souls, all seem determined in thefr strength to spend
and be spent in this divine employ. The college, as
dear Mr. Berridge says, has been baptized with the
baptism of the Holy Ghost ; great grace rests upon
all within its walls, and eminent success crowns their
labors in the towns and villages around. To God

TREVECCA. 173
alone be all the glory. The work is his, and he will
carry it on in his own way. His smUes of approbation
have cheered my heart amidst the many cares, labors,
and sorrows I have to contend with. I thirst for an
entfre devotedness to him, and his cause and interest
in the world. 0 that I had a thousand hearts, a thou
sand hands ; all should be employed for him, for he
is worthy. Sing, 0 my soul. Worthy is the Lamb
that was slain."
In the hearts of how many of God's professing
people does this wish meet with an earnest and hearty
response ?

174 LADY HUNTINGTON.

CHAPTER XIII.
A NEW RECRUIT — TUNBRIDGE WELLS.
" Sir — Mr. Thomas Palmer was at my house last
week, and desfred me to call upon you when I went
to Cambridge. I am now at Grandchester, a mUe
from you, where I preached last night and this morn
ing, and where I shaU abide until three in the after
noon ; wUl you take a walk over ? The weather is
frosty, which makes it pleasant under foot. If you
love Jesus Christ, you wUl not be surprised at this
freedom taken by a stranger, who seeks your ac
quaintance only out of love to Christ and his people.
" I am, for his sake, your affectionate servant,
"J. BERRIDGE."
This was addressed to the leader of the Cambridge
band of pious youth, Rowland HiU, tidings of whose
fearless fervor had reached the vicarage of Everton,
only a few miles from Cambridge, and rejoiced the
heart of its good old master. The invitation was
thankfuUy responded to, and Rowland, a blooming
young man of nineteen years, set out for Grand
chester mill, where Berridge tarried with the miUer.
And thus these two met to confer together upon the
rich prerogatives and ample endowments of their
heavenly inheritance. Rowland's famUy were divided
"m their views of Christian duty. His elder brother

ROWLAND HILL. 175
Richard, and two of his sisters, sympathized with
the religious movements of the day, and had them
selves received a saving knowledge of the truth as it
is in Jesus. For Rowland they had felt the deepest
soUcitude ; for not only had he the common tempta
tions which beset the path of a rich man's son, but
he possessed a vivacity and wit which would not faU
to fascinate and deUght the gay cfrcles of coUege
students. As the time of his quitting Hawkstone for school
drew near, the language of thefr hearts was, "We
cannot let thee go, without a blessing from on high :"
, nor were thefr fideUty and earnestness lost upon him ;
he saw and felt the exceeding sinfulness of sin, and
laid hold of the Refuge provided in the gospel. The
change which passed over him was a thorough and
permanent one ; there was no reserve in his conse
cration to Christ, and henceforth it became the en
deavor and the delight of his life to make known to
others that salvation which he had found so precious
to his own soul. But upon this turn in the current
of his life, his parents looked with a less favorable eye ;
they sought to arrest him in his new course. Nor
were coUege tutors more lenient, nor coUege com
panions more merciful. Rowland endured the cross
for his Master's sake. Among the students there were
a few of like faith, and these stood firm, wUling to
endure reproach and contradiction with him for the
sake of Christ.
From the meeting at the miU a delightful inti
macy sprang up between the old disciple and the new,

176 LADY HUNTINGTON.
and every Sabbath, while at Cambridge, Rowland
tried to spend a portion of the day at Everton.
Although a dUigent student, and holding a high
rank in his classes, the young man was more than a
student : the musty air of a cloistered life did not suit
the buoyant energies of his spfrit; he craved the
warmth and excitement of active life; he could not
behold the moral wastes and the famishing poor
in his daily walks, without longing to sow the seed
and carry the bread of eternal life. And this he did.
He pressed forward, doing with his might whatsoever
his hand found to do. A strong opposition was raised
against him. The faculty threatened, and his father
frowned. In the midst of his troubles he ventured to
address Mr. "Whitefield, then at London, and lay his
perplexities before him.
"About thirty-four years ago," answered "White-
field, "the master of Pembroke coUege, where I was
educated, took me to task for visiting the sick and
going to the prisons. In my haste I said, ' Sir, if it
displeaseth you, I go no more.' My heart smote me
immediately. I repented, and went again : he heard
of it — ^threatened, but for fear he should be looked
upon as a persecutor, he let me alone. The hearts of
all are in the Redeemer's hands. I would not have
you give way, no, not for a moment ; the storm is too
great to hold long : visiting the sick and imprisoned,
and instructing the ignorant, are the very vitals of
true and undefiled religion. If threatened, or denied
a degree, or expelled for this, it wiU be the best de
gree you can take : a glorious preparation for, and

ROWLAND HILL. 177
a blessed presage of future usefulness. I have seen
the dreadful consequences of giving way and looking
back. How many, for this wretched cowardice and
fear of the cross, have been turned into piUars, not of
useful but useless salt. Now is your time to prove
the strength of Jesus yours. If opposition did not so
much abound, your consolations would not so much
abound. Blind as he is, Satan sees some great good
coming on. We never prospered so much at Oxford,
as when we were hissed at and reproached as we
walked along the streets. That is a poor castle that
a Uttle stinking breath of Satan's vassals can throw
down. Your house, I trust, is better founded. Is it
not buUt upon a rock ? Is not that rook the blessed
Jesus ? The gates of hell, therefore, shall not be able
to prevaU against it." Go on, therefore, my dear man,
go on. Old Berridge, I beUeve, would give you the
same advice. God be praised that you are helped to
bless, whUe others blaspheme. God bless and direct
and support you. Good Lady Huntington is in town.
She wiU rejoice to hear that you are under the cross.
You wUl not want her prayers, or the poor prayers of.
my dear honest young friend,
" Yours in an all-conquering Jesus."
This letter, so much in harmony with his own
feelings, encouraged and animated the young man to
engage with fresh ardor in his labors of love.
Not long after this, in 1768, whUe under the dis
pleasure of his father, he came to Bath, on his way to
Cambridge, and paid a visit to Lady Huntington,
who received the young evangelist with open arms.
8*

178 LADY HUNTINGTON
He preached at her chapel, and expounded in her
house, with great acceptance, giving promise on every
occasion of that salient oratory which distinguished
his riper years.
Rowland HiU was now twenty-three, and ready
to receive orders ; yet six bishops refused to ordain
him, on account of his irregular conduct at Cam
bridge, and for fear of stiU greater irregiUarities in
time to come.
This, with divers other trials, grieved and embar
rassed him : his father restricted his allowance, in
hope of breaking up his preaching tours ; but his
spfrit could neither be curbed nor broken. With his
little Welsh poney, the gift of a friend, without purse
or scrip, he went forth on the highways and by
ways, far and wide, proclaiming the unsearchable
riches of Christ. "Make the best of your time," said
Berridge ; " whUe the Lord affords traveffing health,
and strong lungs, blow your horn soundly."
" I find you have got honest Rowland down to
Bath," he writes to Lady Huntington once, whUe
entertaining the ranger at her house. " He forsakes
father and mother and brethren, and gives up aU for
Jesus. The Lord hath owned Mm much at Cam
bridge and in the north, and I hope wUl own him
more abundantly in the west."
Lady Huntington's house at Bath became now
for a time his head-quarters, whence he went forth
through the neighboring towns, preaching to large
crowds, receiving abuse, or welcome, as the world
saw fit to give him.

ROWLAND HILL. 179
" I think your chief work for a season wUl be,"
writes Berridge to him, "to break up faUow-ground.
This suits the accent of your voice at present. God
wUl give you other tongues, when they are wanted ;
but he now sends you out to thrash the mountains,
and a glorious thrashing it is. Go forth, my dear
Rowley, whenever you are invited, into the devU's
territories ; carry the Redeemer's standard along
with you, and blow the gospel trumpet boldly, fearing
nothing but yourself. If you meet with success, as
I trust you will, expect clamors and threats from the
world, and a Uttle sorrow now and then from the
chUdren. These bitter herbs make good sauce for a
voung recruiting sergeant, whose heart would be lift
ed up with pride, if it were not kept down by these
pressures. Make the Scriptures your only study, and
be much in prayer. The apostles gave themselves to
the v/ord of God, and to prayer. Do thou likewise.
Labor to keep your mind in a heavenly frame ; it
wUl make your work pleasant, and your conversation
savory. Now is your time to work for Jesus. You
have health and youth on your side, and no church
or wife on your back. The world is aU before you,
and Providence your guide and guard. Fear not.
Jesus is with you."
The encouragement and countenance thus cor
dially proffered to the young Rowland by these veter
ans in his Master's service, Berridge and "Whitefield,
falling happUy in with the current of his own tastes
and talents, confirmed the sturdy Catholicism of his
views: and as they were about departing from tho

180 LADY HUNTINGTON.
field, they cast on the young recruit the mantle of
thefr own resolute, yet tolerant and loving spfrit,
which had made thefr preaching awful as that of the
Hebrew prophet, and winning as that of the beloved
disciple. Let us now pass to Tunbridge Wells, in the
county of Kent, thirty-five miles south-east of London,
a town much resorted to by the sick for the healing
power of its waters, and by the fashionable to banish
time and ennui by the picturesque beauties and the
unrestrained gayeties which the place afforded.
The cloud of mercies which broke upon Brighton
and OathaU, led Lady Huntington to hope also
something for so unpromising a field as Tunbridge
Wells ; and she was encouraged in this by Sir Thom
as I'Anson, a pious man, who Uved in the neighbor
hood, and who had sometimes opened his own man
sion to the preaching of the gospel. She went hither,
accompanied by Mr. Venn and Mr. Madan, in 1763,
when large meetings were held in the Presbyterian
church. But spacious as was the place, thousands
were unable to get in. To satisfy the eager interest
of the people. Lady Huntington begged them to take
the open field — a new and extraordinary spectacle to
the people of Tunbridge WeUs, and it created no
small stir both among townsfolk and visitors.
" May the precious name of Him who died to
save, be made very dear to many in this place, and
may this grain of mustard-seed become, by the bless
ing of God, a flourishing tree, extending its branches
far and wide," was the parting benediction of one of

TUNBRIDGE WELLS. 181
the preachers. And that the grain began to spring
up, and other of the Lord's husbandmen came and
cared for the shoots, we may fairly conclude, for, five
years afterwards, we find Lady Huntington taking
up a permanent residence on mount Ephraim, one oi
the three little hUls between which the town is situ
ated, with Whitefield by her side. This was in the
summer of 1768.
During the foUowing winter. Lady Huntington
spent a few months in London at her house in Port
land Row, Cavendish-square. Anxiety and her in
cessant labors threw her upon a sick-bed, and confin
ed her for many weeks to the house ; but though it
suspended her personal activity, it did not close her
doors to the preaching of the gospel. Whitefield,
Wesley, and Romaine are there, "holding forth the
word of life" to as large auditories of the nobility
and fashion of the mefropoUs, as in the earlier days
of their ministrations. Whitefield was laboring under
severe bodUy suffering, yet his labors were abundant,
and in every interval of ease he was alert as a watch
man on a beleagured city. In March, Mr. Venn ar
rived at London, where he found a warm welcome
and hospitable entertainment at Portland Row. He
was anxious to improve every opportunity of attend-
mg upon this great evangeUst, whose conversation
and minisfry were so fiUed with an unction from on
high, and whose fading health gave mournful pre
sage that the places now so glad with his presence
must soon know him no more for ever. At the last
meeting at Lady Huntington's house for the season.

182 LADY HUNTINGTON.
we find Charles Wesley the preacher, Romaine and
Venn are admmistering the Lord's supper, and "White-
field pouring out his soul in the parting prayer with
unspeakable solemnity, as though his feet had already
touched the waters of Jordan.
Lady Huntington immediately proceeded to Bath
in company with Mr. Venn. Lady Fanny Shfrley,
Lady Gertrude Hotham, and the Countess of Buchan
now resided here, shedding a reUgious influence over
the cfrcles in which they moved, and striving to com
mend the Christian profession not only by weU-order-
ed lives, but by seeking to bring thefr friends to a
like precious experience-
The chapel, which had been fuUy attended during
the winter, was now supplied for a few Sabbaths by
Mr. Venn. In his correspondence at this time, among
other interesting things, he writes thus : " I am favor
ed with the pleasing sight, and with the arUmating
example of a soul inflamed with love to a crucified
God, that stumbUng-block to them that perish. In
Lady Huntington I see a star of the first magnitude
in the firmament of the church. Blessed be God for
free grace, that salvation is to every one that cometh
to Christ. Otherwise, when I compare my life and
my spfrit with hers, I could not believe the same
heaven was to contain us. How do works, the works
of faith and love, speak and preach Jesus Christ, in
that devoted servant of his. No equipage, no livery
servants, no house, aU these given up, that perishing
sinners may hear the life-giving sound, and be enrich
ed with all spfritual blessings. Her prayers are heard,

TUNBRIDGE WELLS. 183
her chapel is crowded, and many sinners among the
poor are brought to the city of refuge. I feel, from
Lady Huntington's example, an increasing desire
both for myself and you, and aU our friends, that we
may be active and eminent in the Ufe of grace. Too
apt are we to rest in life received, and not to be doing
every day something for our Lord ; either earnestly
engaged in prayer, speaking affectionately to sinners,
overcoming our selfish passions, or exercising mercy
to our needy brethren; but it is by abounding in
every good work, that our light shines before men,
and we stand confessed the workmanship of God in
Christ. " I have enjoyed in this visit the edifying discourse
and bright example of many of our dear Saviour's
famUy, aU of them partakers of one life and one
spfrit, yet each distinguished by its particular hue
and beauteous color more predominant than the rest.
In one, I have been animated by the ardent activity for
the glory of Christ and the salvation of souls. In
another, I was pleased and softened by conspicuous
meekness and gentleness of spirit. In a third, I was
excited to love and good works, by the fervent charity
and brotherly kindness I beheld ; and in a fourth, I
was led to abase myself, and confess the pride of my
heart, from the humility and brokeimess of spirit that
struck me. In the Head alone, aU graces in their
lusfre unite."
How lovely is Christian feUowship, thus reflecting
and multiplying the Christian graces.
In April, Whitefield left London, and followed

184 LADY HUNTINGTON.
Lady Huntington to Bath; his health becoming
somewhat improved, accompanied by the Countess
and Lady Anne Erskine, he made a tour through
Bristol, Chippenham, Rodborough, Gloucester, Chel
tenham, and several other towns, the scenes of early
and later triumphs. " Never were these places so
endeared to me," he exclaimed. " Old friends, old
gospel wine, and the great Governor ordering to fill
to the brim ! Oh, to grace what mighty debtors !"
In May, the three, with the addition of Lady
Buchan and Miss Orton, proceeded to Tunbridge
Wells, to attend the dedication of the chapel, now
nearly completed. At an early hour on the Sabbath
morning of the services, great numbers assembled in
the court before the countess' residence, to begin the
day with prayer and praise.
" It is impossible," exclaimed the lady of the
mansion, "to express the delight and satisfaction ]
felt, on being awoke at an early hour in the morning
by the voice of praise and thanksgiving; my heart
was powerfuUy affected, and never shall I forget the
pleasure I then experienced."
These tokens of interest and reUgious fervor must
have been peculiarly grateful, for they were blossom
ings from the little seed long since sown, and fore
shadowings of a precious and golden harvest yet to
be reaped. At the opening services, the prayers of the
established church were read by Mr. De Couroy, and
Mr. "Whitefield preached the sermon ; but the chapel
having become crowded almost to suffocation, the
sermon was delivered in the open afr, from a mound

TUNBRIDGE WELLS. 185
in the court before the chapel. It was one of his most
eloquent and thrilling efforts ; the lofty energy of his
tones, the utter forgetfulness of himself in the all-
absorbing interest of his subject, the very impersona
tion of the truths which he uttered as he stretched
forth his hand — " Look yonder; what is that I see ?
It is my agonizing Lord I Hark, hark ; do not you
hear ? 0 earth, earth, earth, hear the word of the
Lord !" thrUled the vast congregation, riveting the
eye, piercing the conscience, and holding strong men
breathless before the resistless might of his oratory.
Infirm, asthmatic, corpulent, and heavy, White-^
field has lost none of his early power ; the grace and
elasticity of both youth and health have gone, field
preaching has lost the freshness and strangeness of
thfrty years before ; his themes have no new elements,
his mind no broader range, his thoughts no sharper
cut or richer mould, yet he is Whitefield still, with
all his outgushing eloquence, thronged by a crowd,
who hung with eager and trembling earnestness
upon his aijgust and impassioned utterances. The
unabated popularity of this wonderful man is one of
the most remarkable things in his history ; when we
remember, too, that he founded no sect, led off no fol
lowers, opened no new school of Theology, and pro
tested against no system. He was upheld or carried
forward by no partisan interest of any kind. It was
eminently a personal power which he wielded, receiv
ing neither force nor abatement from patronage or
party. "What this power precisely was, it is perhaps
difficult to decide. Vividness of conception, single-

186 LADY HUNTINGTON.
ness of aim, depth of emotion, a native tenderness of
spfrit, all concentrated upon one grand theme, and
that theme Christ, the crucified and risen Saviour ;
and more than aU this, his being a chosen insfrument
in this spiritual renewal o£ the true church, set apart
by the Lord of glory — therein were the hidings of hia
power.

THE BREACH 187

CHAPTER XIV.
THE BREACH.
The ffrst day of the year 1770 Lady Huntington
set apart for fasting and prayer, and for a renewed
dedication of herself to God.
" I am just returned from the Look," she says
in the evening, "where I heard a profitable sermon
from dear Mr. Romaine on that awful passage, ' This
year thou shalt die.' If the Lord shaU see fit to
remove me hence the year just begun, may my worth
less soul be numbered with the redeemed before his
throne. Of late I have enjoyed much intimate fel
lowship with the Father and the Son, and the Holy
Ghost has frequently witnessed with my spfrit that I
am his chUd. This has caused me to rejoice with
unspeakable joy."
Such are the delights which are the privUege of
the Christian. How do they cheer and soothe the
soul chafed by the disappointments and cares that
must needs beset us in our earthly pUgrimage. In
proportion as our sphere is wide, so do cares multiply,
and we live to see the fafrest mornings clouded and
our dearest hopes withered in the bud ; drought
blights our labors, and barrenness eats up our Edens.
It was in such a season of suspended fruitfulness
that this pious woman had written Berridge; and

188 LABY HUNTINGTON.
to her letter, under the date of January 9, he thus
replies :
"You complain that every new work after a
season becomes a lifeless work. And was it not in
the beginning as it is now? Do not the Acts and
epistles show that the primitive churches much re
sembled our own ? In thefr infancy we find them of
one heart and soul, having all things common; but
presently read of partial distribution in their church
stock, then of eager and lasting contentions about
circumcision, coupling Moses vdth Jesus, and setting
a servant on a level with his Master. And gentile
churches are much on a level with the Jewish. The
Corinthians soon fell into parties about their leaders,
into errors about the resurrection, and into many
gross immoralities. The Galatians seemed at first
ready to present Paul with thefr own eyes, but grew
desirous at last of plucking out his. The Ephesians
had been much tossed by winds of doctrine. Tho
Colossians had faUen into will- worship, and the Thes-
salonians had some of our gossips among them who
would not work, but sauntered about picking up news
and teUing tales. St. Paul's labors were much em
ployed in Asia, and many churches were gathered
there ; yet I hear him complaining in a certain place,
that ~' aU they in Asia were turned aside from him.'
Scripture mentions a former and a latter rain, between
which of course there must have been an interval of
drought and barrenness. The former rain falls just
after seed-time, when there is plenty of manna com
ing down from above, plenty of honey flowing out of

THE BREACH. 189
the rock, and plenty of joyful hosannas rising up to
Jesus. After this rain comes the interval, during
which most of the stony and thorny grounds sheer
off, taking a final leave of Jesus ; and the good
grounds ar<3 scarcely discernible, so cold they appear
and fuU of weeds, so exceedingly cold and swampy.
At length the Lord ariseth in just indignation to
chastise and vex his people, continuing his plagues
untU he has broken thefr bones and humbled thefr
hearts, causing them to see and feel and loathe their
backslidings, and raising up a sigh and a cry in thefr
hearts for deUverance. Then comes the latter rain
to revive and settle ; after which they learn to walk
humbly with God."
What church has not experienced this spiritual
drought, when the leaves faU from the fig-tree and
the vine fainteth for want of water ? If the laws
of the natural world are types and shadows of the
spfritual, then such things must needs be in the pres
ent economy of life. And though we see but through
a glass darkly, we discern a heavenly wisdom : those
which have no root wither away, while the strong
trunk abides the heat, and the delicate flower folds
its leaves and bows its head, waiting meekly for tho
rain; these shaU be for the garden of the Lord.
Blessed are those who endure to the end.
It was in August of this year that the churches
in connection with Mr. Wesley lield their twenty-
seventh annual conference in London, which gave
birth to a confroversy, perhaps one of the hottest and
most barren of spoils in the annals of Protestant the-

190 LADY HUNTINGTON.
ology. It was a kindling of the old flames that so
nearly consumed the friendship of Wesley and White-
field more than twenty years before ; and though
smothered for a season by the predominance of the
Christian element, theological differences which mark
ed their preaching were likely to assume a greater
importance in the minds of their friends or foUow
ers, and demand a more unqualified acknowledg
ment. The conference made the following decla
rations :
" 1. With regard to men^s faithfulness. Our
Lord himself taught us to use the expression, there
fore we ought never to be ashamed of it. We ought
steadily to assert, upon his authority, that if a man is
not faithful in the unrighteous mammon, God will
not give him the true riches.
"2. With regard to working for life, which our
Lord expressly commands us to do. Labor, work
for the meat that endureth to everlasting life. And
in fact every believer, till he comes to glory, works
for as well as from life.
"3. V/e have received it as a maxim, that 'a
man is to do nothing in order to justification.' Noth
ing can be more false. "Whoever desfres to find favor
with God, should cease from evil and learn to do
well. So God himself teaches by the prophet Isaiah.
Whosoever repents, should do works m.eet for repent
ance. And if this is not in order to find favor, what
does he do it for ?
" In review,
" 1. Who of us is noio accepted of God ?

THE BREACH. 191
" He that now believes in Christ with a loving
and obedient heart.
"2. But who among those that never heard of
Christ? " He that, according to the light he has, feareth
God and worketh righteousness.
"3. Is this the same with him that is sincere ?
" Nearly, if not quite.
"4. Is not this salvation by works ?
" Not by the merit of works, but by works as a
condition. "5. What then have we been disputing about
these thfrty years ?
" I am afraid, about words.
"6. As to the merit, of which we have been so
IreadfuUy afraid, we are rewarded according to our
joorks, yea, becatise of our works. How does this
liffer from, for the sake of our works? Can you
spUt this hafr ?
" 7. The grand objection to one of the preceding
doctrines is drawn from matter of fact. God does
in fact justify those who, by their own confession,
neither feared God nor wrought righteousness. Is
tlUs an exception to the general rule ? It is a doubt
whether God makes any exception at all. But how
are we sure that the person in question never did
fear God or work righteousness? His own saying
so is no proof; for we know how all that are con
vinced of sin undervalue themselves in this respect.
" 8. Does not talking of a, justified or a sanctified
state tend to mislead men ? almost naturaUy leading

192 LADY HUNTINGTOH.
them to trust in what was done at one moment?
Whereas we are, every hour and every moment, pleas-
mg or displeasing to God " according to our works,"
according to the whole of our inward tempers and our
outward behavior."
These were the minutes which alarmed Lady
Huntmgton and her friends, because they were
thought to be aimed against divine sovereignty and
electing grace, which were favorite doctrines of Mr
Whitefield and his adherents. With an honest though
hasty warmth. Lady Huntington declared that no
one embracing the statements laid down in these
minutes could remain in her coUege. Mr. Benson,
her head-teacher, defended them, and in consequence
closed his connection with the coUege.
" I am glad you had courage," said Wesley to
him, "to speak your mind on so critical an occasion.
At aU hazards do so still, only with a,ll possible ten
derness and respect. She is much devoted to God,
and has a thousand valuable and amiable quaUties."
Mr. Benson immediately informed Mr. Fletcher,
the President, of his dismissal, who says, with his
wonted tenderness for those who love the Lord, " Take
care, my dear sir, not to make matters worse than
they are ; cast the mantle of forgiving love over cir
cumstances that might injure the cause of God, so far
as it is put into the hands of that eminent lady, who
hath so weU deserved of the church of Christ ; but
if what you say is true, a false step has been taken,
and if the plan of the college is overthrown, I have
nothing more to say to it."

THE BREACH. 193
A cfrcular was now issued by the offended party
inviting the clergy of aU denominations to convene
at Bristol, m order to meet the Wesleyan conference,
and compel them to retract thefr heresies. The tone
of the cfrcular was more calculated to aggravate than
to conciUate. The evening before the meeting took
place. Lady Huntington wrote to Wesley apologizing
for any seeming harshness or imperiousness : "As
Christians," she says, "we wish to retract what a
more deliberate consideration might have prevented,
as we would as little wish to defend even truth itself
presumptuously, as we would submit servUely to
deny it."
The two parties met; a candid and Christian
temper presided over the discussions, and mutual
explanations and concessions took place ; Lady Hunt
ington's chaplains and fiiends acknowledging an in
discreet haste in making up and expressing their
opinions, and Wesley consenting to make such a
pubUc explanation of his views as would satisfy the
unbiassed mind.
" Whereas," he says, " the doctrinal points in the
minutes of a conference held in London, August 7,
1770, have been understood to favor justification by
works; now we, the Rev. John Wesley and others,
assembled in conference, do declare we had no such
meaning, and that we abhor the doctrine of justifica
tion by works as a most perUous and abominable
doctrine. And as the said minutes are not suffi
ciently guarded in the way they are expressed, we
hereby solemnly declare in the sight of God, that we

194 LADY HUNTINGTON.
have no trust or confidence but in the alone merits of
our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, for justification
or salvation, either in life, death, or the day of judg
ment ; and though no one is a real believer who doeth
not good works when there is time and opportunity,
yet our works have no part in meriting or purchasing
our justification, from first to last, either in whole or
in part." And thus it stands, signed by fifty-three
of his preachers.
This frank and manly avowal, or disavowal, qui
eted the apprehensions of his friends ; and peace must
have been speedUy restored between the two reUgious
parties, had not a vindication of the doctrines of the
minutes, prepared by Mr. Fletcher at the request
of Mr. Wesley, and written before the meeting of the
conference of adjustment, soon appeared. "When
Fletcher heard the result of the meeting at Bristol,
he was extremely anxious to suppress the article;
but it fell into the hands of a violent partisan, who
hastened it through the press, and the gauntlet being
thus thrown down, combatants were not wanting to
take the field.
The detaUs of this warfare it is hardly necessary
to record here. Sfr Richard HUl, Rev. Augustus Top-
lady, and Mr. Berridge were the principal writers on
one side ; Fletcher, SeUon, and Olivers on the other.
However powerful may have been the arguments
wielded on either side, tools also of a sharper point
were freely used ; acrimonious and intemperate ex
pressions were hurled back and forth ; both parties,
instead of convincing or retreating, were driven to the

THE BREACH. 196
extremes of thefr own principles, and made unguard
ed assertions of themselves and thefr opponents, the
effect of which was to alienate the hearts of Christian
brethren, draw them from thefr proper work, and
widen the breach between those who really loved the
Lord. Mr. Thornton and others tried to pacify the
parties, and moderate some of thefr excesses, but it
avaUed little. Wesley took no active part in the war ;
and Fletcher, though one of the principal actors, must
be allowed to have preserved the habitual serenity of
his spfrit ; he was indeed, in a measure, above the
storms of earthly passions. "WhUe in the heat of the
controversy he came to Stoke Newington seriously
indisposed, where he was visited by many distin
guished people and several of his opponents. "I
went to see a man with one foot in the grave," said
one of him, "but I found a man with one foot in
heaven." "Your ladyship's account of what occurred at
Mr. Wesley's last conference does not surprise me,"
wrote Lady Glenorchy from Edinburgh; "may the
Lord God of Israel be with you, and enable you to
make a firm stand in defence of a free-grace gospel.
Lady Anne's letter told me aU you had been doing in
this momentous affair. "When you next write to dear
Mr. Shfrley, give my kindest regards to him, and also
to Mr. Fletcher, Mr. Venn, and Mr. Romaine. May
we aU be kept by the mighty power of God unto the
day of salvation.
"lam rejoiced at the success which has attended
the college and your very extensive field of labor. I

196 LADY HUNTINGTON.
long to be more actively engaged for God, but hitherto
my way has been greatly hedged up. When the
weather permits, I frequently visit the poor, and find
much liberty and pleasure in speaking for God.
Knowing the great demands upon your generosity, I
beg your acceptance of the enclosed for four hundred
pounds, which you wiU oblige me by expending in
that glorious cause which my heart longs to serve ;
and at the same time aUow me to repeat, what I have
afready assured your ladyship, that my purse is always
at your command, as I feel persuaded that the Lord
smiles on your plans of usefulness and wiU crown
them with his blessing."
A writer, describing these polemics, speaks of
Berridge as a "buffoon as weU as a fanatic," neither
a very impartial nor discerning estimate of one of the
noblest spirits of his day. We might, indeed, some
times regret the indulgence of his humor, and could
wish, for his vocation's sake, a check-rein to the
bridle of his speech ; but we fear we should have con
tinued to laugh with him, instead of giving him the
highest and noWest proof of our love for lUm and for
Christ's cause, shown by Mr. John Thornton in the
following letter — a letter worthy of serious perusal by
every clergyman whose wit is liable to get the better
of his wisdom.
" In some discussions we have had relative to
* The Christian World Unmasked,' " discourses Mr.
Thornton, " I could not help laughuig with you,
though at the same time I felt a check within ; your
reasons silenced, but did not satisfy me. Your vein

BERRIDGE. 197
of humor and mine seem much alike. If there is any
difference between us, it lies here : I would strive
against mine, whUe you seem to indulge yours. I
fight against mine, because I find the ludicrous spfrit
is just as dangerous as the sullen one ; and it is much
the same to our great adversary, whether he falls in
with a capricious, or facetious turn of mind. I could
not forbear smUing at your humorous aUegory about
the tooth, and was pleased at the good sense dis
played in it ; yet something came across my mind —
Is this method agreeable to the idea we ought to
entertain of a father in Israel ? It would pass mighty
well in a newspaper, or any thing calculated for
public entertainment ; but it certainly wanted that
solidity or seriousness that a Christian minister should
write with. What the apostle said in another sense
will apply here : ' When I was a chUd, I spake as a
child,' etc. An expression of yours in your prayer
before sermon, when at Tottenham-court, struck me,
that God would give us new bread, not stale, but
what was baked in the oven that day. Whether it
is that I am too Uttle, or you too much used to such
expressions, I wont pretend to determine, but I could
not help thinking it savored of attention to men more
than to God. I know the apology frequently made
for such language is, that the common people require
it; it fixes thefr attention, and it. affords matter for
conversation afterwards ; for a sentence out of the
common road is more remembered than all the rest.
This may be true, but the effect it has is only a loud
laugh among their acquaintances ; not one person is

198 LADY HUNTINGTON.
edified, and many are offended by such like expres
sions. Some ministers I have known, run into the
other extreme, and think something grand must be
uttered to strUic the audience ; but this seems to me
as unnecessary as the other, and both have a twang
of self-conceit, and seem like leaning to carnal wis
dom. Truth, simple truth, requfres no embellish
ments, nor should it be degraded ; we are not to add
or to take from it, but to remember the power is of
God wholly.
" My reverend friend, as an old man, might be
indulged in his favorite peculiarities if they would
stop with him ; but others catch the infection, and we
find young ministers and common people indulging
themselves in the same way ; they think they are
authorized so to do by such an example. Wit in any
person is dangerous and often mischievous when
used improperly, and especially on religious subjects;
for as the professing part of an audience wUl much
longer retain a witty or low expression than one more
serious, so wiU the wicked part of it too, and turn it
to the disadvantage of religion. I recoUect but one
humorous passage in all the Bible, which is that of
Elijah with the Baalites ; and when the time, place,
and circumstances are properly considered, nothing
could be more seasonable, nothing so effectually ex
pose the impotency of their false god, and the absurd
ity of their vain worship. The prophets often speak
fronically, sometimes satirically, but I do not remem
ber of thefr ever speaking ludicrously. Our Lord
and his apostles never had recourse to any such meth-

BERRIDGE. 199
ods. The short abstracts we have of thefr sermons
and conversations are all in a serious strain, and min
isters cannot copy after a better example. I dare not
say that giving Uberty to a man's natural turn, or
an endeavor to put and keep the people in good-
humor, is sinful ; but this I may assert, such a
method is universaUy foUowed on the stage, and in
aU places of public entertainment, and therefore it
seems to me to savor much more of the old man than
of the new.
" I remember you once jocularly informed me
you was bom with a fool's cap on ; pray, my dear sfr,
is it not high time it was pulled off ? Such an accou
trement may suit a natural birth, and be of service ;
but surely it has nothing to do with a spfritual one,
nor ever can be made ornamental to a serious man,
much less to a Christian minister. I waive men
tioning scriptm-e injunctions, such as, " Let your
speech be with grace," etc., as you know these better
than I do. Surely they should have some weight,
for idle and unprofitable words stand forbidden. If
it should please God to give you to see things as I do,
you wUl think it necessary to be more guarded ; but
should you think me mistaken, I trust it wUl make
no interruption with our friendship that I am thus
free with you, as it proceeds from a sincere love and
regard. The Tabernacle people are in general wild
and enthusiastic, and delight in any thing out of the
common course, which is a temper of mind, though
in some respects necessary, yet that should never be
encouraged. If you and some few others, who have

200 LADY HUNTINGTON.
the greatest influence over them, would use the curb
instead of the spur, I am persuaded the effect would
be very blessed. WUdffre is better than no ffre :
but there is a divine warmth between these two ex
tremes which the real Christian catches, and which
when obtained is evidenced by a cool head and a
warm heart, and makes him a glorious, shining ex
ample to all around him. I desfre to be earnest in
prayer that we may be more and more partakers of
this heavenly wisdom, and ascribe aU might, maj
esty, and dominion, to the Lord alone.
" I am, dear sir, yours affectionately, "JOHN THORNTON."
"Dear and honored sfr," replies the vicar, "your
favor of the 17th requires an answer attended with a
challenge ; and I do hereby challenge you, and defy
all your acquaintances to prove, that I have a single
correspondent half so honest as yourself. Epistolary
intercourses are become a polite traffic, and he that
can say pretty things, and wink at bad things, is an
admfred correspondent. Indeed, for want of due
authority and meekness on one side, and of patience
and humUity on the other, to give or to take reproof,
a fear of raising indignation instead of conviction,
often puts a bar on the door of my lips ; for I find
where reproof does not humble it hardens, and the
seasonable time of striking, if we can catch it, is
when the iron is hot : when the heart is melted down
in a furnace, then it submits to the stroke, and
takes and retains the impression. I wish you would
exercise the trade of a gospel limner, and draw the

JiERRIDGE. 201
features of aU my brethren in black, and send them
thefr portraits. I beUeve you would do them justice
every way, by giving every cheek its proper blush
without hidmg a dimple upon ft. Yet I fear, if your
subsistence depended on this business, you would
often want a morsel of bread, unless I sent you a
quartern loaf from Everton.
"As to myself, you know the man : odd things
break from me as abruptly as croaking fi-om a raven.
I was born with a fool's cap. True, you say; yet
why is not the cap put off? It suits the ffrst Adam,
but not the second. A very proper question, and my
answer is this : a fool's cap is not put off sp readily
as a nightcap. One cleaves to tho head, and one to
the heart. Not many prayers only, but many fur
naces, are needful for this purpose. And after aU,
the same thing happens to a tainted heart as to a
tainted cask, which may be sweetened by many
washings and firings, yet a scent remains stUl. Late
furnaces have singed the bormet of my cap, but the
crown stUl abides on my head ; and I must confess
that the crown so abides, in whole or in part, for want
of a closer walk with God, and nearer communion
with him. When I creep near the throne, this humor
disappears, or is tempered so well as not to be dis
tasteful. Hear, sfr, how my Master deals with me :
when I am running wild, and saying things some
what rash or very quaint, he gives me an immediate
blow on my breast, which stuns me. Such a check
I received while I was uttering that expression in
prayer you complained of; but the bolt was too far
9*

202 LADY HUNTINGTON.
shot to be recovered. Thus I had intelUgence from
above, before I received it from your hand. However,
I am bound to thank you, and do hereby acknow
ledge myself reimbursed for returning your note.
" And now, dear sir, having given you an honest
account of myself, and acknowledged the obligation
I owe you, I would return the obUgation in the best
manner I am able. It has been a matter of surprise
to me how Dr. Conyers could accept of Deptford
living, and how Mr. Thornton could present him to
it. The Lord says, 'Woe to the idle shepherd that
leaveth his flock.' Is not Helmsley flock, and a
choice flock too, left — left altogether, and left in the
hands not of shepherds to feed, but of wolves to
devour them ? Has not lucre led him to Deptford,
and has not a family connection overruled your pri
vate judgment ? You may give me a box on the ear
for these questions, if you please, and I wUl take it
kindly, and stUl love and pray for you.
" The Lord bless you, and bless your famUy, and
bless your affectionate » jj/it,
'' "JOHN BERRIDGE."

DEATH OF WHITEFIELD. 203
CHAPTER XV
DEATH OF WHITEFIELD.
Whitefield, though sick and itifirm, was im-
peUed by the strong current of his Christian sympa
thies to revisit America. He had been now four years
in England, and his heart yearned with unspeakable
tenderness for his dear chUdren over the waters.
" Besides," he says, " a pUgrim Ufe is to me the
sweetest this side of eternity ; I am more content with
it, and I shall have time enough to rest in heaven."
As the time of his departure drew near, more than
ordinary tenderness and solemnity mingled with his
leave-takings. "Oh these partings," he exclaimed;
" without a divine support, they would be intolerable.
Paul could stand a whipping-post, but not a weeping
fareweU." On the day of his leaving London, he preached
at the Tabernacle at seven in the morning ; none too
early for the friends and admfrers of this distin
guished man to grope their way through the damp
and dingy atmosphere of an early London morning,
responsive to his call.
" Oh, sinners, you are come to hear a poor crea
ture take his last fareweU ; but I want you to forget
the creature and his preaching. I want to lead you
further than the Tabernacle, even to mount Cal
vary, to see with what expense of blood Jesus Christ
purchased his own. Now, before I go any further,

204 LADY HUNTINGTON.
wUl you be so good, before the world gets into youi
hearts, to inqufre whether you belong to Christ oi
not ? Surely the world did not get into your hearts
before you rose from your beds. Many of you were
up sooner than usual. I hope the world does not get
into your hearts before nine. Man, woman, sinner,
put thy hand upon thy heart and say, didst thou ever
hear Christ's voice so as to follow him?"
Thus, with apostolic fervency and colloquial dfrect-
ness, did he plead for the last time in behalf of the
immortal interests of his Tabernacle auditory. There
were heavy hearts and tearful eyes, even among strong
men ; whUe a cloud of heavenly benediction went up
from grateful souls which had been made glad by his
messages of love.
A large number of his friends, in coaches and on
horseback, accompanied him to Gravesend, where he
embarked on the last of September, 1769. Contrary
winds detained the vessel some days along the coast,
affording several opportunities for Whitefield to land
and preach yet again on the dear old English soil.
Favoring breezes at last sprung up, and his native
land faded for ever from his sight. After a long and
tedious passage, his thfrteenth across the Atlantic
the Friendship arrived off Charleston the first of De
cember, and a cordial welcome awaited him on shore
" Grace, grace !" ejaculates "Whitefield ; " a recep
tion as hearty or heartier than ever. Blessed be God
I am brave and weU, and am able to preach this
afternoon." As soon as possible he hastened to visit his Orphan-

DEATH OF WHITEFIELD. 205
house at Bethesda. "Oh Bethesda, my Bethel, my
Peniel !" ho exclaims; "my happiness is inconceiv
able. I have had nine or ten prizes lately — you know
what I mean — nine or ten 'orphans have been lately
taken in. HaUelujah."
For thfrty years the, Orphan-house had been the
chUd of his love, the object of his paternal care, and
the one thing which he felt anxious to provide for.
An infirmary had been added to it, to which the poor
and disabled resorted for charitable assistance, and at
one time the number of patients ampunted to one
hundred and thirty. Although we find there was
much land attached to the institution, a garden fiUed
with " aU sorts of greens," " plenty of mUk, eggs,
and poultry," sheep and cattle and horses, yet it was
far from self-supporting; it seems always to have
been attended with a heavy expense to the founder,
who every year was compeUed to tax the Christian
public for its support.
Bethesda, however, wore an unusuaUy flourishing
aspect when now visited by "Whitefield, and he imme
diately set about projecting a plan to increase its
range of usefulness by adding a coUege ; and "thus,
may it please your exceUency," runs his memorial to
the governor of Georgia, " my beloved Bethesda wUl
not only be continued a house of mercy to poor
orphans, but be confirmed as a seat and nursery of
sound learning and reUgious education, I trust, to the
latest posterity." We find the foUowing notice ui
the Georgia Gazette, bearing date. Savannah, Janu
ary 31, 1770 :

206 LADY HUNTINGTON.
"Last Sunday, his excellency the governor, councU,
and assembly, having been invited by the Rev. George
Whitefield, attended divine service in the chapel of
the Orphan-house academy, where prayers were read
by the Rev. Mr. EUington, and a very suitable ser
mon was preached by the Rev. Mr. "Whitefield, from
Zechariah 4 : 9, 10 : ' The hands of Zerubbabel have
laid the foundation of this house ; his hands shaU also
finish it ; and thou shalt know that the Lord of
hosts hath sent me unto you ; for who hath despised
the day of smaU things ?' to the general satisfaction
of his auditory. After divine service, the company
were very politely entertained with a plentiful and
handsome dinner, and were greatly pleased to see the
useful improvements made in the house in so much
forwardness, and the whole executed with taste and
in a masterly manner ; and being sensible of the triUy
generous and disinterested benefactions derived to
the province through his means, they expressed thefr
gTatitude in the most respectful terms."
In whatever Ught the plan of a college was re
garded by the colonial authorities, no measures were
ever taken towards putting it into execution during the
lifetime of Whitefield ; and after his death, one dis
aster after another swept away every thing but the
memory and the name of the Orphan-house of Georgia.
As soon as the news of Whitefield's return to the
colonies had spread abroad, pressing invitations from
the north poured in upon him, whUe the cordiality of
his Georgia friends, and the apparent prosperity of his
Bethesda, tempted him to remain at the south ; " but

DEATH OF WHITEFIELD. 207
no resting this side of eternity," he exclaimed; "all
must give way to that divine employ, gospel rang
ing." Accordingly, when spring opens, we foUow him
to PhUadelphia, "where pulpits, hearts, and affec
tions seemed to be as open and enlarged towards him
as ever;" and "notwithstanding I preach twice on
the Lord's day, and three or four times a week," he
teUs us, "I am better than I have been for many
years." He worked hard all summer, feeble as he was,
with a fixed and unfaltering purpose to spend and be
spent in the service of his Lord. From PhUadelphia
we track him to New York, wind with him up the
Hudson and the Mohawk, project with him a mis
sionary tour among the benighted Oneidas, tarry
with him at Northampton, welcome him to Bos
ton, and with anxious glance behold him, " faint
yet rejoicing," start on a journey from that city to
the east.
Everywhere his heart and hands are full ; people
flock to hear him ; he has lost nothing of the forceful
oratory of thfrty years before : the heart is moved,
the conscience pierced, and in spite of the abuse and
misrepresentation which frequently beset his path,
his presence is reverently sought for, his coming
eagerly expected, his arrival cordiaUy welcomed, and
his "journeyings oft" are Uke a march of triumph
through the land. Sorely worn and weary is the out
ward, yet is the inward Ufe struggling for utterance
and action. Now he is compeUed to pause and
recruit his decaying powers ; the next day he starts

208 LADY HUNTINGTON.
up from the suffering couch as with a fresh lease of
health. " You wUl see," he writes from Portsmouth, New
Hampshire, and it was his last letter, "by the many
invitations, what a door is opened for preaching the
everlasting gospel. I was so ill on Friday that I
could not preach, though thousands were waiting to
hear. WeU, the day of release wUl shortly come ;
but it does not seem yet, for by riding sixty miles
I am better, and hope to preach here to-morrow. I
trust my blessed Master wiU accept of these poor
efforts to serve him. Oh, for a warm heart. Oh, to
stand fast in the faith ; to quit ourselves like men,
and be strong."
On a beautiful Saturday in the latter part of
September, he rode from Portsmouth to Exeter, where
he was expected, and preached to a great multitude
already^ assembled in the fields beneath a rich autum
nal sky, and surrounded by the golden harvest. Be
fore going out, some one remarked he was more fit to
go to bed than to preach.
" True, sir," replied the almost dying man, who
turned aside, and clasping his hands, ejaculated,
''Lord Jesus, I am weary in thy work, but not of ii.
If I have not yet finished my course, let me go and
speak for thee once more in the field, seal thy truth,
and come home to die ;" and it seemed like prophetic
prayer : once more he went forth, and the forests rang
with the melody of his tones, and men hung on his
words as if they had been the words of an angel.
After dining with Captain GUman, he rode to

DEATH OF WHITEFIELD. 20?
Newburyport. The evening shadows of his briUiant
day were fast lengthening around him. Night over
took him in the cold damps of death, and the Sabbath
dawn witnessed his departure to an eternal Sabbath
in the heavens. His death was sudden and unex".
pected. Though known to be sick, his ceaseless ac
tivity made men forget his infirmities, and the pause
in his career was abrupt and startUng. This event
occurred September 30, 1770.
Everywhere good men made great lamentation
over him.
Mr. Sherburne of Portsmouth immediately sent to
Rev. Mr. Parsons, at whose house he died, to beg the
body for his own new tomb ; several gentlemen also
came from Boston to ask for the remains of one so
dear to the churches; but mindful of Whitefield's
often expressed desfre, should he die at Newburyport,
that he might be buried before the pulpit of his friend,
Mr. Parsons decUned these requests, and the great
evangelist Ues interred in the Federal-street church,
where a handsome cenotaph has been erected to his
memory. The funeral services were most solemn and affect
ing, for multitudes of his spfritual chUdren gathered
to mourn around his bier. Just before the coffin was
lowered into the vault. Rev. Daniel Rogers of Exeter
offered a prayer, during which he cried out, " 0 my
father, my father !" when overwhelmed by his own
emotions, he sat down and wept aloud, while sighs
and sobs came from every part of the church ; and as
the great congregation broke up, people went to thefr

210 LADY HUNTINGTON.
homes weeping silently. The sad tidings of his death
reached London November 5, 1770.
"Whitefield was the prince of English preachers,"
says an EngUsh critic. " Many have surpassed him
as sermon-makers, but none have approached him as
a pulpit orator. Many have outshone him in the
clearness of thefr logic, the grandeur of their concep
tion, and the sparkling beauty of single sentences ;
but in the power of darting the gospel direct into the
conscience, he eclipsed them all.
"He was an orator, but he only sought to be an
evangeUst. Indeed, so simple was his nature, that
glory to God and good-wUl to men having filled it,
there was room for Uttle more. Having no church to
found, no famUy to enrich, and no memory to immortal
ize, he was the mere ambassador of God ; and inspfred
with its genial, piteous spirit — so fuU of heaven rec-
onoUed and humanity restored — he soon himself be
came a living gospel. Radiant with its benignity
and trembling with its tenderness, by a sort of spir
itual induction a vast audience would speedily be
brought into a frame of mind, the transfusing of his
own ; and the white furrows on thefr sooty faces told
that Kingswood colUers were weeping, or the quiver
ing of an ostrich plume bespoke its elegant wearer's
deep emotion. Coming to his work direct from com
munion with his Master, and in all the strength of
accepted prayer, there was an elevation in his views
which often paralyzed hostility, and a self-possession
which only made him, amid uproar and fury, the
more sublime. And when it is known that his

DEATH OF WHITEFIELD. 211
voice could be heard by twenty thousand, and that
ranging all the empfre, as well as America, he would
often preach thrice on a working-day, and that he
has received fri one week as many as a thousand
letters from persons awakened by his sermons, if no
estimate can be formed of the results of his ministry,
some idea may be suggested of its vast extent and
singular effectiveness."
We have foUowed him for the most part in the
Ught of his triumphs, we have Ustened only to the
pleasant voices of those who loved him, and have
heard only the echo of his soul-stfrring eloquence, yet
"Whitefield had many foes, who made "no small stir"
against him. Cowper tells us, in the beautiful tribute
which he paid to his memory, how the preacher and
the world quit scores ; for,
''Assailed by scandal and the tongue of strife,
His only answer was a blameless life ;
And he that forged, and he that threw the dart,
Had each a brother's interest in his heart.
Paul's love of Christ, and steadiness unbribed,
Were eopied close in him, and well transcribed.
He followed Paul — his zeal a, kindred flame,
His apostolic charity the same ;
Like him, crossed cheerfully tempestuous seas,
Forsaking country, kindred, friends, and ease ;
Like him he labored, and like him, content
To bear it, suffered shame where'er he went."
"Whitefield died at the age of fifty-six. He was
married in 1741, but enjoyed Uttle of domestic life,
for his field was the world : one son, the only fruit of
this union, was removed in early chUdhood, and his
wife died two years before himself.

212 LADY HUNTINGTON.
By Whitefield's wiU it was found that the orphan
house in Bethesda, and likewise aU his buildings,
land, books, and furiuture in the province of Georgia,
were bequeathed, as the wUl ran, " to that lady elect,
that mother in Israel, that mirror of true and unde
filed religion, the Right Honorable Selina Countess
Dowager of Huntington ;" and in case she should
be called to enter upon h^r glorious rest before his
decease, to Honorable James Habersham, a merchant
of Savannah, and one also of the original Oxford
band. In a codicU appended to the wUl, we find a record
of cherished friendships. "I also leave a mourning-
ring to my honored and dear friends the Rev. John
and Charles Wesley, in token of my indissoluble
union with them in heart and Christian affection,
notvirithstanding our difference in judgment about
some particular points of doctrine."
With these possessions was bequeathed to Lady
Huntington a large revenue of care and anxiety,
which, with grief for the loss of so well-beloved a
friend and faithful a coadjutor, so pressed upon hei
spfrit, that she appointed Tuesday, the 15th of Jan
uary, a day of especial prayer throughout the chapels
under her patronage, that the great Head of the
church would pour out his Spirit both upon ministers
and people, and that she herself might lay hold with
a more simple and relying faith upon the "arm of
the Lord," which alone is strength and protection.
Not daunted by this accession to her labors, Ladv
Huntington soon began to act with her characteristio

DEATH OF WHITEFIELD. 213
energy. She took every measure to make herself
thoroughly acquainted with the real state of the
institution, which at that time contained "sixteen
chUdren, nine managers and carpenters, and seventy-
five negroes." New plans were made for its manage
ment ; her own housekeeper was sent out to regulate
its domestic economy ; Rev. Mr. Crosse was appointed
teacher of the school, and Mr. Piercy made president
and general agent of her affafrs there. Meanwhile,
a mission to North America was projected, whose
head-quarters should be at Bethesda, from which the
missionaries could go forth either to the savages in
the forest, or among the white men of the colonies,
wherever the providence of God opened a way to
pubUsh the everlasting gospel.
Lady Huntington addressed a letter to all the
ministers and students in her connection, inviting a
general meeting at Trevecca, in order to consult to
gether and to ask counsel from on high upon a meas
ure at once so new and so important. The occasion
proved to be one of unusual interest. Missionary zeal
was enkindled ; the baptism of a self-sacrificing love
feU upon many hearts ; and at the call, " Who will go
for us? who wUl publish the glad tidings of great
good in the forests and frontiers of the nev/ world V'
the response came from many a youth, "Here am I,
send me."
The impressive services which attended the selec
tion and the setting apart of the students for the
North American mission, both at Trevecca and Tot
tenham-court chapel, and in the open afr on Tower

214 LADY HUNTINGTON.
hill, were witnessed by large numbers deeply and
tenderly excited by the scene.
"In October, the missionaries embarked on board
a vessel destined to convey them to America, and
sailed from BlackwaU to Gravesend. As the moment
of their departure approached," says one, "the pray
ers of thousands who felt themselves pecuUarly inter
ested in the arduous, yet glorious undertaking, became
more frequent and fervent. Vast multitudes attended
them to the river's side, and as soon as the boats con
veyed them from the shore, every countenance was
suffused with tears, hats and handkerchiefs were seen
waving in every direction, whUe prayers and wishes
ascended like a cloud of incense to the great Head of
the church, commending them to his merciful protec
tion and guardian care. Such a spfrit of prayer and
supplication was poured out upon the people of God
at this interesting period, as has seldom been remem
bered." The vessel being detained in the downs by adverse
winds, the missionaries had several opportunities ol
going on shore, which they gladly improved, preach
ing with the fervor of men who had given thefr
all to the service of thefr Lord, and setting the cur
rent of pious sympathy strongly in favor of the mis
sionary enterprise. "Nor was any thing so blessed,"
said Lady Huntington, "as the spfrit in which they
went." After a six weeks' voyage, the company arrived
safely in Georgia, where they met with a cordial
reception from WThitefield's friends ; the orphan-house

DEATH OF WHITEFIELD. 21.5
became thefr head-quarters, and never, perhaps, did
so many favorable circumstances seem to conspire to
the happy furtherance of missionary labor.
"The province of Georgia," Lady Huntington
teUs us, "have made proposals to buUd a church at
thefr own expense and present me with it, that the
coUege of Georgia may have their ministry in that
part honored. My last letters from America inform
me, that our way seems open to the Cherokee country ;
and in aU the back settlements we are assured the
people wUl joyfuUy buUd us churches at thefr own
expense, and present them to us, to settle perpetuaUy
for our use. Some great, very great work is intended
by the Lord among the heathen. Should this appear,
I should be rejoiced to go myself and establish a col-
lege for the Indian nations. I cannot help thinking
that the Lord wUl have me there before I die, if only
to make coats and garments for the poor Indians."
Thus hopefuUy begun was this enterprise, thus
broad and buoyant were the expectations which fan
ned the ardor and guided the strength of her whp
stood at its hehn, watching with a keen eye, a rever
ent and earnest spfrit, the progress of her richly
freighted argosy.
In the midst of these bright hopes, tidings reached
England of the destruction of the orphan-house by
fire. The loss was great, and so we may suppose
must have been the disappointment ; and yet what
does Lady Huntington say : " Though we may be dis
appointed, God the judge of all is not defeated ; aU
things are ordered according to the counsel of his own

216 LADY HUNTINGTON.
will ; I cannot wish it for one moment to be other
wise." From all that can be gathered. Lady Huntington's
temporal affairs in Georgia seem not to have been
well managed. For several years she spent large
sums with few cheering results. The breaking out
of the revolutionary war threw every thing into dis
order ; Piercy returned to England, and in 1782
the estates were seized by the Americans, though she
says her greatest losses were by the king's troops.
Collisions with the state authorities afterwards occur
red, and the establishment for orphans passed away.
Thus closed the career of an institution which was
t]j.e cherished favorite of the reUgious pubUc a hun
dred years ago.
The a,ctual amount of good accomplished by the
associations and institutions of pious men for human
renovation, cannot always be measured by their out
lays, or their permanency. They are intended to bear
upon the spfritLial kingdom of our Lord ; and how
many consciences have been pierced, how many bur
dens removed, how many souls saved, how~many
prayers elicited, how much love enkindled, how much
covetousness rebuked, how much unbelief chastized,
how much sloth removed, in a word, how much train
ing for eternity ha.s been accomplished through their
instrumentality, we can never fully know this side
of the grave. The direct object of their projectors
may not have been as completely answered as seemed
desfrable ; no large revenue of positive usefulness may
have been palpably gathered in, and to the worldly

DEATH OF WHITEFIELD. 217
looker-on only disappointment and defeat may seem
to reward our utmost painstaking. But the aspect
of affafrs is quite different viewed from the Christian
standpoint. Here we learn, that the one vital interest
of each one of us is, to do God's wiU and grow into his
likeness ; that it is the hearty and humble desire to
glorify God in whatever we do, and not the success
which may crown our efforts, which becomes the true
measure of a weU-spent Ufe.
We may rejoice and be thankful when God honors
us by making us the instruments of doing great things
for his kingdom here below ; but we need not be cast
down when, by his providence, he sees fit to break
in upon our most cherished plans for good. He knows
better than we what springs to touch and what wheels
to turn in the mighty machinery of his moral govern
ment. He knows also what ordering is best to fit us
for heaven; and the humble and trusting spirit, a
heart patiently waiting and loving its Saviour's wiU
upon a sick-bed, may constitute a more perfected life,
tban many a one whose deeds ring round the world,

218 LADY HUNTINGTON.

CHAPTER XVI.
VENN LEAVING HUDDERSFIELD— LABORS OF LADy
HUNTINGTON— DEATH OF HOWELL HARRIS, AND
LORD CHESTERFIELD.
Mr. Venn had now been settled twelve years in
Huddersfield, and had made full proof of a blessed
ministry, not only to the people of his particular
charge, but to many a neighboring hamlet and cot
ter's home. The pastoral labors of this exceUent man
were everywhere attended with marked success ; and
it is a question of no common interest, in these times
of spfritual barrenness, what was the secret of his suc
cess, or what the gifts and graces which secured to
him so fast a hold upon the consciences and affections
of his hearers.
" Look upon your people," he said to his son
John, on entering upon the sacred office, " as prisoners
under condemnation, for whose pardon and recovery
you ought to feel as the tender mother does for the
child at her breast. Lament an unfeeling heart in
yourself as well as in them ; beg earnestly that you
may long after thefr salvation in the bowels of the
Lord Jesus Christ." And he regarded as a qualifica
tion of the ministry more necessary almost than any
other, " a deep sense of your own unworthiness — ^neces
sary to make you speak with consciousness of your
poverty and ignorance ; necessary to teach you how-
to speak to the weary and tempted soul ; necessary to

VENN LEAVING HUDDERSFIELD. 219
lay hold on Christ, and find in him more than all you
need, for acceptance, strength, comfort, and useful
ness ; and necessary to make you take pains, and give
yourself whoUy to the work, that your profiting may
appear ;" nor can we doubt that this was the transcript
of his own experience, leading him to those labors of
love which distinguished and adorned his Ufe.
Let us go now among the people, and hear what
mention they make of the pastor and preacher.
" There was a meeting every Saturday night of
the most pious people at Thomas Hanson's, sometimes
twenty or more, who sung and prayed together," an
old parishioner goes on to say ; " and I was first led to
the Huddersfield church by listening with an uncle of
mine at the door of the house where the meeting was
held. We thought there was something uncommon
to make them so earnest, so we went together to the
church one Thursday evening. There was a great
crowd within the church — all silent, many weeping.
The text was, ' Thou art laid in the balances, and art
found wanting.' "When we got out of church, we did
not say a word to each other tUl we got some way
into the fields. Then my uncle stopped, leaned his
back against a waU, and burst into tears, crying out,
'I can't stand this.' His convictions of sin from that
time were most powerful, and he became quite a
changed character, and a most exemplary person, as
people wUl testify. After that sermon I could no
longer be easy in sin. I began to pray earnestly, and
soon to seek salvation in earnest. The people used to
go from Longwood in droves to Huddersfield church.

•220 LADY HUNTINGTON.
three mUes off; scores of them came out of church
together, whose ways home were in this direction,
and they used to stop at the Firs' End, a mUe off,
and talk over for some time what they had heard. 0,
that place has been to me like a little heaven below.
Never was a minister like our minister. He was
most powerful in unfolding the terrors of the law ;
when doing so, he had a stern look that would make
you tremble : then he would turn off to the offers of
grace, and begin to smUe, and go on entreating tiU
his eyes fflled with tears. The most wicked and iU-
oonditioned men went to hear him, and they feU Uke
slaked lime, in a moment."
" Always at work," adds another, " he took every
method of instructing his people, he left nothing
unturned. The lads he catechized used to tell him
that people said he was teaching a new docfrine, and
leading them into error ; but he always replied,
' Never mind them, do not answer them ; read your
Bibles and press forward, dear lads, press forward,
and you cannot nuss of heaven.'
" Everywhere were the fruits of his ministry.
Sinners were reclaimed, children were trained in the
fear of God, piety was quickened, numbers were
added to the people of God, the stated means of
grace were diligently improved, a saving and healthy
influence went forth from the church, and as a con
sequence, the Sabbath was respected, sobriety pre
vaUed, scoffing and infidelity were rebuked, and good
morals began to creep in among the ale-shops."
Mr. Venn was nearly fifty, and in the prime of his

VENN LEAVING HUDDERSFIELd'. 221
usefulness ; but a tendency to consumption began
gradually to be developed, warning him to curtaU his
labors, if not altogether to desist from them ; yet this
was almost impossible in a parish as large as that of
Huddersfield. A summer journey did not materially
benefit him, although we find him preaching here
and there by the way. Tarrying a while at Lady
Huntington's hospitable mansion at Bath, the mourn
ful tidings of Mr. "Whitefield's death reached England,
and he undertook the sad and solemn task of preach
ing a funeral-sermon at the Bath chapel, now bereft
of one of its strong pUlars.
It was during this visit that Mr. Venn received an
offer of the curacy of Yelling, a small town about
twelve mUes from Cambridge, and every considera
tion of prudence urged him to accept it. But to
leave Huddersfield, to part from the "dearly loved
and longed for, his joy and crown," the thought was
deeply afflicting; and when he accepted Yelling, and
the decision was known at Huddersfield, never were
witnessed sadder scenes on a like occasion. "How
can we let thee go ?" was the universal cry, and they
almost constrained him to tarry with them. During
the three months preceding his removal, so many
and so affecting were the tokens of his people's love,
that Mr. Venn was in a strait betwixt two ; and when
he preached his fareweU-sermon, people flocked from
ah parts to hear him, and weeping mothers held up
their chUdren, saying, " There is the man who has
been our most faithful minister, and our best friend."
" No human being," wrote Venn to Lady Hunt-

222 LADY HUNTINGTON.
ington, " can teU how keenly I feel this separation
from a people I have so dearly loved ; your ladyship
well knows how much I am attached to Huddersfield,
where my poor labors have been acknowledged by
the great Lord of the harvest, and where I have en
joyed so much and such near commuruon and feUow
ship with the Father and his Son Jesus Christ ; but
the shattered state of my health incapacitates me for
the care of so large a parish. And now, my dear lady,
my most faithful friend, pray for me, that the bless
ing of the Lord our God may go with me, and render
my feeble attempts to speak of his love and mercy
efficacious to the conversion of souls. At Yelling, as
at Huddersfield, I shaU stiU be your ladyship's wiU-
ing servant in the service of the gospel ; and when I
can be of any service in furthering your plans for the
salvation of souls and the glory of Christ, I am your
obedient servant to command."
The parish 'of Yelling was thinly inhabited, and
a congregation of twenty or thfrty rustics wore a very
different aspect from the large and inteUigently train
ed audience which he used to preach to ; " but they
are remarkably attentive," he writes to Lady Hunt
ington, " and seem to wonder very much at my doc
trine and earnest manner. Dear Mr. Berridge has
been here, and has preached for me. He encourages
me to go into the neighboring parishes, where he has
preached occasionaUy, and I have afready had several
congregations in barns and other places, where I hope
good has been done. Your ladyship would enjoy the
sight of one of these rustic assemblies, and the avidity

VENN LEAVING HUDDERSFIELD, 223
with which they drink in, as it were, every expression
that faUs from my lips. Souls are perishing m every
direction around me, but I have not strength to go
forth as I once did. I long to see your ladyship, and
to hear once more the many precious things from
your lips which invigorated my dead soul, and gave
me such vehement desires in times past. Oh, pray
that I may be animated with a burning desfre to
spread the glorious gospel of my precious Lord and
Master, and be content to spend and be spent in a
cause so divine."
We are left in no doubt what it was that gave
such fransforming power to the pastoral ministrations
of this man of God. He felt the truth and reality
of redemption. " What an unspeakable mercy," h&
exclaims with admfring gratitude, "to be rescued
from the bondage of sin, to enjoy the presence of God,
to behold the glory of God, to feel his support, his
protection, and his victorious arm stretched out in our
behalf; and thus to ivalk with him on earth, and
endure as seeing Him who is invisible. This is a
hard work — at least, I find it so ; but this is our
daily business, together with that of our particular
calling. Against this walk with our God, the com
pany of three armies as it were, the world, the flesh,
and Satan, fight continually ; but let us not be dis
couraged, for this is our consolation: ' The Lord will
give strength unto his people ; the Lord will bless his
people with peace.' " Is not the life of such a man
a fresh witness of the power and exceUency of divin
truth ? Mr. Venn removed to Yelling in 1771.

224 LADY HUNTINGTON.
Meanwhile the unquenchable zeal of Lady Hunt
ington found many outlets tluough the labors of her
students, who now began to t ra verse every part of the
kingdom, bravely and vigilantly carrying on a guerilla
warfare with the powers of sin and Satan. They went
into the highways and hedges, preaching and teach
ing with apostolic fidelity, and whenever the weather
was favorable "using a table for a pulpit and the
canopy of the heavens for a sounding-board, and
ever beseeching the Lord Jesus to preside over thefr
assemblies." " And it seems to be the prevaUing spfrit of the
present students to do this everywhere," Lady Hunt
ington tells us ; " the gift of awakening seems much
continued to our plan and work ; the spread is aston
ishing ; the college does not yet fill equal to our caUs,
but the fewer the more useful : they appear like
Gideon's army."
At one time we hear of a congregation of fifteen
hundred poor colliers and naUers. At another, of
ten thousand in a large, deep hoUow ; and Lady
Huntington herself is at CornwaU, saying, " My caU
here is to the tinners,, and thousands and tens of
thousands of poor perishing creatures, whom aU seem
to neglect ; their souls are the object of my loving
care, and if the Lord permit, I wish to make three
or four establishments in the heart of the tin mines,
for their instruction and salvation."
She passed much time at Trevecca, her "beloved
retreat," as she called it, secluded as it was from the
clamor and strife of the world, yet animated with the

HER CHAPELS. 225
generous impulses and devotional ardor of a band of
pious youth, ready, tlu'ough evil and through good
report, to bear witness for thefr Lord. Here she main
tained an extensive correspondence with her numer
ous friends, preachers, and various people connected
by business with her different departments of relig
ious effort. Indeed, the management of her business
requfred the time, attention, and energy of no com
mon man; and yet she entered into its detaUs and
encountered its perplexities with a courage and pa
tience which neither age or infirmities could long
damp, and which they could never destroy.
We now find her traveUing in different counties,
foUowing up with her presence the labors of her
missionaries, inspecting her chapels, investigating the
^ings of frustees and committees, regulating sala
ries, dfrecting funds, counselling, controlling, and en
couraging, with an unspent force of mind which was
marveUous to behold.
A letter to one of her committees having the
charge of a chapel, may serve to show the kind and
amount of her labors, as weU as the faith which sus
tained her amid the greatest discouragements and
perplexities. "My WORTHY Friends — You must allow me to
assure you that the pleasure I had in reading the
conclusion of your letter did abundantly outweigh
those many complaints, and I hope needless fears,
which our gracious Lord is forced to try us by, and
that in order that we may see the only hand worthy
10'

226 LADY HUNTINGTON.
to expect our blessing from, and yield him all the
praise. More I want not, than to find our Lord own
our assembUes as his. No good thing shall be with
held whUe the Lord of hosts remains the tender Father
of us his Israel, and wUl afford us our meat in duo
season. "I lament a complaint should come on Mr. Tay
lor's account, and have sent a dfrection to provide for
him from my own property, as no collection can be
had at Tunbridge Wells, owing to the great poverty
of the people. The income of au estate of mine has
ever been freely given to support the gospel in that
part of Kent, with an allowance for the winter food
of a student, as no minister can pay this out of what
is received. Mr. Taylor cannot have more for his
support for four months there, than is aUowed through
all the churches ; and in case of his absence, a min
ister is to be boarded by him, as is the student, sup
ported in part by the people, aU the winter. The
purpose that is intended bears no proportion of diffi
culty to me, who only am the responsible person for
the debts and deficiencies that may arise on the
chapel. I am still wUUng to trust my dear and
faithful Master ; he has ever dealt kindly by his poor
old worthless servant, and I do not find that I want
a better bank to maintain food and raiment for me,
or those proper and just supplies he shall afford for
his various little households, which he orders or may
order for my ignorant care of them. As to the min
ister's board, your allowance of two guineas a week
iust comes to what you have stated.

HER CHAPELS. 227
" As to a reader, we have no such example among
us. The Gardens have one for the sake of the pray
ers when a student preaches, but no one minister has
ever had a single difficulty ; and it appears to me,
allowing the minister ten guineas who stays a quar
ter with you, to find a reader if he likes, wUl be less
expense than the burden of regularly maintaining
one. Many choose to read the prayers, and I must
say the afr of superiority and importance thus mani
fested has not that simpUcity that means neither
show or parade. The more apostolic we are the bet
ter ; and I must say, as a most remarkable blessing,
I know of none anxious or discontented among us,
even when it might have been justly excused, seeing
myself unable to do what my heart so much desired.
My best advice to you is, to be wisely cautious upon
this point ; and either coUeotions or private subscrip
tions from honest and devoted hearts, privately ap-
pUed to for this purpose, as a little loan to the Lord,
and not necessity, wUl go further to bless such means
than the many affected shows supposed liberality
wears. I am sure you expect a faithful answer from
me, and 'such as I have give I unto you' all. Do
not be careful about the household stuff; my dear
Master will not let me want table or chairs. You
see where aU my cares are cast. Commending your
gracious labors to Him whose faithful and tender eye
is ever over you, I remain, my worthy friends, your
faithful, wUling, and ever ready friend and devoted
servant, "S. HUNTINGTON."

228 LADY HUNTINGTON.
This was addressed to the committee of one of her
London chapels, several of which she had erected or
hfred for the accommodation of the poorer flocks, who
without them had been as sheep without a shepherd.
The second of her London efforts was the renting
of a large buUding in Princes-street, Westminster,
which she repafred and enlarged, with the aid will
ingly rendered to her by some of her wealttiy friends
interested in the Redeemer's kingdom. For some
time this chapel was supplied by ministers from the
established church, among whom we find the name
of Toplady, a name famUiar to the lovers of lyrical
poetry. " The congregation is very numerous," she
tells us, " and many of the mighty and noble, as weU
as tho poor, gladly hear the word, to some of whom
it has proved the savor of life."
The next in succession was the Mulberry Gar
dens chapel, fitted up in a tasteful and elegant man
ner, and opened according to the forms of the church
of England. The labors of its ministers gave great
offence to many in the neighborhood, who, alarmed at
their popularity, and shamed by their diUgence, en
deavored to sUence them by various acts of persecution
These efforts were fruitless ; great success attended
their ministrations, owned and blessed as they were
bv the gi-eat Head of the church.
In 1773, Lady Huntington lost two friends with
whom she had been long and differently associated.
'^ That indefatigable servant of God, Howell Har
ris, feU asleep in Jesus last week," she writes to
Romaine. "When he was confined to his bed, and

DEATH OF HOWELL HARRIS. 229
oould no longer preach or exhort, he said, ' Blessed
be God, my work is done, and I know that I am
gomg to my God and Father, for he hath my heart,
yea, my whole heart. Glory be to God, death hath
no sting — all is well ;' and thus this good man went
home to his rest.
" It is impossible to describe the grief which is
awakened everywhere by the tidings of his death, he
was so beloved as the spfritual father of multitudes.
Truly his loss is felt at the college, where many were
awakened by his Uvely ministry. The last time he
•preached at coUege, he spoke with a mighty sense of
God, eternity, and immortality; and when he came
to the application, he addressed himself to the audi
ence in such a tender, earnest, and moving manner,
exhorting us to come and be acquainted with the
dear Redeemer, as melted the assembly into tears.
" On the day of his interment, we had some spe
cial seasons of divine influence, both *ipon converted
and unconverted. No fewer than twenty thousand
persons were assembled, and we had abundance of
students in the college, and all the ministers and
exhorters, who collected from various parts to pay
their last tribute to his remains. We had three stages
erected, and nine sermons addressed to the vast mul
titudes, hundreds of whom were dissolved in tears.
Fifteen clergymen were present, six of whom blew
the gospel trumpet with great power and freedom.
Though we had enjoyed much of the gracious pres
ence of God in our assemblies before, yet I never saw
so much at any one time as on that day, especially

230 LADY HUNTINGTON.
when the Lord's supper was administered. God
poured out his Spirit in a wonderful manner. Many
old Christians told me they never had seen so much
of the glory of the Lord and the riches of his grace,
nor felt so much of the power of the gospel before.
"I hope soon to open a chapel in Worcester.
Lincolnshire and Kent promise great things. Lady
Fanny Shfrley has frequent meetings at her house in
Bath, where the nobility attend. The work spreads
amazingly in Gloucestershire.
" When you have a little leisure, Mr. Shfrley will
be glad of your assistance in Brighton, Mr. Venn is,
now at OathaU. I expect here, in a month, also Mr,
Toplady and Mr. Berridge."
In contrast with the death of HoweU Plarris
stands that of Lord Chesterfield, which occurred a
few months afterwards. He had been the early
friend and companion of Earl Huntington; after
whose death, Yte seems always to have remained on
a friendly footing with the countess. Towards the
young earl we fuid him acting as towards an adopted
son, a circumstance which Lady Huntington is pre
sumed not to have been able to control, and which
must have occasioned her no Ut^le sorrow. His scep
ticism and profligacy did not prevent him from fre
quently attending on the ministrations of "Whitefield,
whose eloquence he greatly admfred, and at Lady
Huntington's soUcitations, he often contributed to the
cause of Christ.
"Really there is no resisting your ladyship's
importunities," he once replied to her: "it would iU

DEATH OF LORD CHESTERFIELD. 231
become me to censure your enthusiastic admiration
of Mr. Whitefield; his eloquence is unrivalled, his
zeal inexhaustible, and not to admire both would
argue a total absence of taste, and an insensibility
not to be coveted by any body. Your ladyship is a
powerful auxiliary to the Methodist cabinet; and I
confess, notwithstanding my own private feeUngs and
sentiments, I am infinitely pleased at your zeal in so
good a cause. You must have twenty pounds for
this new tabernacle, but I must beg my name not
to appear in any way."
And it was unto him according to his desfres ; his
name was never enrolled among those who loved their
Lord, while his corrupt principles and maxims are
handed down to us in a volume of " Letters to his
Son," a book which Ulustrates the weU-known, yet
often to be repeated lesson, that bright talents can
make no amends for bad morals. " Death," he de
clared to be " a leap in the dark," and dark and dread
ful did he find the leap to be. As the pains of dis
solving nature increased upon him, and human help
was vain, his cold and mocking scepticism could offer
neither present alleviations nor future hope. " The
blackness of darkness, accompanied by every gloomy
horror, thickened most awfully around his dying
moments," says Lady Huntington, who vainly tried to
administer the only consolation which could avail.
Far different was the impression which Lady Fan
ny Shfrley on her sick-bed made upon the surrounding
attendants. Once, as a reigning beauty at court,
Chesterfield had addressed to her some of his most

232 LADY HUNTINGTON.
famous epigrams ; since then, she had chosen that
better part which could never be taken from her.
" I am quite at a loss to explain how Lady Fanny
is enabled to bear such a severity of suffering with so
much tranquUlity, and so few symptoms of restless
ness and murmuring," said her physician to Mr.
Venn ; " can you account for it, sfr ?"
"Sir," answered Venn, "that lady happily pos
sesses what you and I ought daily to pray for, the
grace of her Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and
the fellowship of the Holy Ghost." What supports
are these ! After Lord Chesterfield's death, Rowland
HiU became chaplain to his lady.
In the early part of the year 1775, Lady Hunt
ington is at Bath, preparing for the opening of her
chapel in Bristol. " Opening a chapel in Chichester,
with the business which arises from the amazing in
crease of our work, allows me little time to indulge
myself even in that of more constant intercourse Vfith
my friends," she says, and we may weU conclude
she allows no hinderanoes to stop her, for foiir new
chapels are opened this year in different parts of the
kingdom. Some misunderstanding having arisen between
Lady Huntington and the trustees of the Taber
nacle, Berridge, on his annual visit to the metropolis,
inquired into its origin, and thus discourses to her
ladyship :
" My dear Lady — Mrs. Carteret tells me I owe you
a letter , and your ladyship might tell Mrs. Carteret I

LETTER FROM BERRIDGE. 233
owe you much love, which wiU ever be paying, 1
trust, and never be paid. Demands on this score, if
honestly made, are always welcome ; and if roguishly
practised, are quickly forgiven. For who ever though'".
of hanging a love thief, except a disappointed lover 1
A. miser, who cannot open the string of his purse
without pain, can part with the strUig of his heart
freely to a bountiful friend ; and the favors you have
shown me call out for more than one heartstring — a
dozen, at least.
" ' Well, well, enough of this,' you ,say ; ' but
what have you seen or heard at London? As you
are an old fellow with a prattling tongue, I shaU
expect a long history, but let it be a faithful one.'
Indeed, my Lady, I have seen and heard some things
to please me, and some things to grieve me. I have
seen the Tabernacle temple weU crowded with atten
tive hearers, which has cheered my heart ; but the
Tabernacle house deserted by your students, which
has grieved my spfrit. Upon asking the cause, I
was told the trustees were suspected of a design on
your Mulberry Gardens. What has occasioned that
suspicion I know not, but I weU know they had no
more desfre to steal your mulberries, than to steal my
teeth; and I believe the profit of the mulberries, if
that base thing had been in view, would no more
enable them to buy a crust, than my old teeth would
enable them to bite it. "When the yearly accounts
of the two chapels are made up, I know they are
sometimes below par, and have seldom £20 in hand ;
and the Mulberry Gardens, if under their manage-

234 LADY HUNTINGTON.
ment, were not Ukely to produce any other gain be
sides frouble. Indeed, my Lady, I am well satisfied
that the trustees have been your hearty friends and
faithful servants, and am sorry to find they are much
offended at your suspicions. Could I discern lucra«
tive views in them, as much as I love the Tabernacle —
that old beehive, which has fflled many hives with
her swarms — I would visit her no longer. But the
more I know of the trustees, the more I am conffrmed
of thefr integrity, which they will give a proof of
shortly by adopting Dr. Ford as a third trustee.
"WeU, now I am prattUng, I must even prattle
on ; an old man's tongue is like a 'larum — when it
sets off, though teazing enough, it will run down
But you cry, ' No more griefs, pray, Mr. Grievous,
unless you intend to set me a yawning.' Indeed, my
Lady, I have another, and beg you would seal up
your lips to prevent yawning, if that is indecent out
of a church. I am told, and simply tell you my
tale, that since the trustees were disnaissed your ser
vice, you have taken a Tory ministry, are growing
sadly churchified, and seem to walk with a steeple
on your head, newly sprung up, but pointing very
high. As to the steeple, I heed it not ; a smart
heavenly breeze will soon blow that down ; but I can
not be reconoUed, like some of my brethren, to a Tory
ministry and a church- waU spfrit. I regard neither
high-church nor low-church, nor any church but the
church of Christ, which is not buUt with hands, nor
circumscribed within peculiar waUs, nor confined to a
singular denomination. I cordially approve the doc-

LETTER FROM BERRIDGE. 23-5
trines and Uturgy of the church of England, and
have cause to bless God for a church house to preach
in, and a church revenue to live on. And I could
wish the gospel might not only be preached in aU
the British churches, but estabhshed therein by
Christ's Spfrit, as weU as by a national statute ; but
from the principles of the clergy and the leading
men in the nation, which are growing continuaUy
more unscriptural and licentious, I do fear our de
fence is departing, and the glory is removing from
our Israel. Perhaps in less than one hundred years to
come the church lands may be seized on to hedge
up government gaps, as the abbey lands were two
hundred and fifty years ago.
" But you say the Lord is sending many gospel
laborers into the church. True ; and with a view,
I think, of caUing his people out of it. Because,
when such ministers are removed by death, or trans
ported to another vineyard, I see no fresh gospel
laborer succeed them, which obUges the forsaken
flocks to fly to a meeting. Aud what else can they
do ? If they have tasted of manna and hunger for
it, they cannot feed on heathen chaff, nor yet on
legal crusts, though baked by some stanch Pharisee
quite up to perfection. "What has become of Mr.
Venn's Yorkshire flock, what wUl become of his Yol-
ling flock, or of my flocks, at our decease ? Or what
wiU become of your students at your removal ? They
are virtual dissenters now, and wiU be settled dis
senters then. And the same vnll happen to many,
perhaps most of Mr. Wesley's preachers, at his death.

236 LADY HUNTINGTON.
He rules like a real Alexander, and is now stepping
forth with a flaming torch; but we do not read in
history of two Alexander's succeeding each other.
"But you reply, 'Some of my best preachers
leave me in my lifetime.' Perhaps they may ; and
if I may judge of your feelings by my own on such
occasions, this must grieve you, on the ffrst view at
least ; but wait and see whether the Lord's hand be
not in it. I dare not commend Barnabas for his abrupt
departure from Paul ; yet it might be permitted,
with a view of sending him to Cyprus. The Lord
can, and often does make the wrath of man, or the
foolishness of man, turn to his praise. However,
it is good for us, I know, to have our well-meant
views frequently perplexed and overturned, else we
might grow headstrong, and fancy ourselves wise
enough to be the Lord's privy-counciUors, yea, able
to outoounsel him. We had rather sit with Jesus
at the council-board than follow him with a string on
our nose, to turn us round, or turn us back, at his
pleasure. Some years ago, two of my lay-preachers
deserted their ranks and joined the dissenters. This
threw me into a violent fit of the spleen, and set me
a coughing and barking exceedingly ; but when the
phlegm was come up, and leisure allowed for calm
thought, I did humbly conceive the Lord Jesus might
be wiser than the old vicar, and did weU in send
ing some preachers from the Methodist mint among
the dissenters, to revive a drooping cause, and set old
crippled pilgrims on their legs again. Nay, it is cer
tain that some of these deserting preachers have not

LETTER FROM BERRIDGE. 237
only quickened the Chelsea invalids, but raised up
new and vigorous recruits for the King's service. Be
glad, therefore, my Lady, to promote the Lord's cause
in any way — in your own line, if it may be ; in an
other line, if it must be. If your preachers abide with
you and are valiant for the truth, it is weU ; if they
depart, let them depart, and rejoice you have been
instrumental in sending them forth. If a lively
preacher goes, he wUl prove a live coal among dying
embers; if a dead one departs, he is buried out of
your sight.
"Paul tells me in one place, 'All in Asia are
turned aside from me ;' and in another, he says,
' Some preached Christ out of envy and strife,' out of
envy and opposition to him ; yet he adds, ' What
then ? Every way Christ is preached ; and therein
I do rejoice, yea, and will rejoice.' Here is a pat
tern for our imitation. However rusty or rickety
the dissenters may appear to you, God hath his rem
nant among them ; therefore lift not up your hand
against them for the Lord's sake, nor yet for con
sistency's sake, because your students are as real
dissenting preachers as any in the land, unless a
gown and band can make a clergyman. The bishops
look on your students as the worst kind of dissenters ;
and manifest this by refusing that ordination to your
preachers which would be readily granted to other
teachers among the dissenters.
"When I consider that the doctrines of grace are
a common offence to the clergy, and the Bible itself
a fulsome nuisance to the great vulgar — that power-

238 LADY HUNTINGTON.
ful efforts have been made to eject the gospel doc
trines out of the church, and the likelihood there is,
from the nation's infideUty, of a future attempt suc
ceeding, there is room to fear, when the church doc
trines are banished the church by a national act,
Jesus will utterly remove the candlestick, and take
away his church bread from those hirelings who eat
it and lift up the heel against him.
" So you are whispering to Lady Anne, ' This
old .vicar is very tedious, and growing pedantic too.
He would fain turn a seer, and has not wit enough for
a common conjurer or a stroUing fortune-teUer ; but he
is often eaten up with the vapors, poor man, and I must
excuse him.' Indeed, I am not wholly eaten up with
the vapors, and cannot be, because I am much eaten
up aforehand with esteem for your Ladyship. I know
your zeal for the Master's honor, and for the prosperity
of his Zion, which must endear you to every honest-
hearted pilgrim. The good Shepherd be your guide
and guard ; may his cloud direct all your motions, and
distU a gracious dew upon yourself, and upon your
students. Please to present my respects to Lady
Anne and Miss Orton; and believe me to remain your
hearty well-wisher and affectionate servant,
"JOHN BERRIDGE."

THE RECTORY OF YELLING. 239

CHAPTER XVII.
THE RECTORY OF YELLING.
Hitherto we have been occupied chiefly with the
pubUc labors of these servants of God in the great
awakening. Scepticism had fled away before the
keen edge of the truths which they wielded, and
mere nominal Christianity acknowledged its weak
ness ; while vice and degradation had yielded to the
only power which could heal and save. But there
was something in thefr influence more positive stUl :
everywhere thefr presence infused a new and holier
life, whose gentle charities distUled Uke dew upon
English homes, endearing the tie of husband and
wife, parents and chUdren, and making the family a
household of faith, " abounding in love towards one
another, and towards aU men." Let us behold these
fruits of piety as they grow in "social sweetness" in
the rectory of Yelling.
At the time of his removal from Huddersfield,
Mr. Venn was a widower with five children, the
eldest of whom was but thirteen. Soon afterwards,
he formed an engagement with an old and valued
fiiend, to whom he thus wrote shortly before their
marriage. " Long was I very backward to think of entering
again into the married state, though so blessed in my

240 LADY HUNTINGTON.
first connection ; but the gracious God whom I serve,
and whose I am, has provided for me one of his own
elect. I begin to feel more concern than I at first
did, lest my children should give you trouble ; for just
in the same proportion as I love and value you, I
must feel any thing that in any degree may affect
you. And I say to myself, ' How should I be able to
bear seeing my dear wife in tears, or void of her sweet
cheerfulness and vivacity of spirit by any of my
children, to whom she has so kindly shown herself a
friend indeed.' I hope it will not be so ; and if prayer
can avail to prevent such a trial coming upon her,
she wUl never experience any sorrow on my account,
or those belonging to me, but by our departure.
"You may remember how pleasantly you said
Hogarth would describe our courtship. ' In what light
would the world regard my letters ? Strange love-let
ters indeed ! 0, did they but know how much more
blessed are the faithful in Christ, in every relation of
Ufe, than themselves, the love of present enjoyment
would make them converts to the faith. But all this
is hid from their eyes. They cannot understand how
a soUd acquaintance with a crucified Saviour diffuses
an influence through the whole life, and renders the
husband, the wife, the father, the master, the servant,
the child, the friend a very different creature, and far
more excellent than what he would otherwise be."
At the marriage his scattered household reassem
bled around him, and he exclaims, "We are all now
under one roof Important and awful connection ;
which I wish and pray may be more and more

THE RECTORY OF YELLING. 241
imprinted upon my mind. How contrary to nature,
to consider our nearest relatives in this light, and to
say often and solemnly, my father or mother, hus
band or wife, chUdren or servants are the very per
sons with whom, as I have the most to do, so shall I
have the most to answer for. With what circum
spection, with what zeal, with what tenderness of
love, should we do good, and edify and comfort one
another." Mr. Venn accepted Yelling as a "providential
refreat," where, though shattered in health, he might
scatter a few more seeds, and gather a little harvest
for the Lord of glory ; but if not rest, freedom from
the manifold cares and excitements of a large parish,
seems to have been just what he most needed. His
health graduaUy improved, and the strength he was
praying for so many years before he left Yorkshfre,
was vouchsafed to him at YeUing.
" Week after week passes," he says again, " and
except on a Sunday, we see nothing but trees and
sheep, and a peasant or two passing over the field;
yet I am quite joyous, and soUtude is to the fuU as
deUoious as it used to be twenty years ago at Clap
ham; yet as the Swiss have a certain longing
which comes over them at times to see thefr own
country again, I feel something of this towards Hud
dersfield." " You teU me you have no idea how we go on,"
he writes to a friend. "Take the following sketch:
I am up, one of the first in the house, soon after five ;
and when prayer and reading the blessed word is
HuntiQstoB. \ \

242 LADY HUNTINGTON.
done, my daughters make thefr appearance, and 1
teach them untU Mrs. Venn comes down at half past
eight. Then famUy prayer begins, which is often
very sweet, as my mother's maid and my own ser
vants are, I beUeve, born of God. The children begm
to sing prettUy, and our praises, I trust, are heard on
high. From breakfast, we are aU employed tiU we
ride out, in fine weather, two hours for health ; and
after dinner, employed again. At six, I have always
one hour for solemn meditation and walking in my
house or the church tUl seven. We have then, some
times twenty, sometimes more or less of the people,
to whom I expound the word of the blessed God :
several appear much affected ; and sometimes Jesus
stands in the midst and saith, 'Peace be unto you.'
Our devotions end at eight ; we sup, and go to rest at
ten. On Sundays, I am able to speak six hours at
three different times, to my own great surprise. Oh,
the goodness of God in raising me up."
The delights vouchsafed to the children of God,
and wliich constitute them a "pecuUar people," are
strikingly exhibited when the rector of Yelling says,
"I have now been here three years and three months.
Take notice, never absent but eleven out of one
hundred and seventy Sundays ; and sometimes not a
night in a month. Is not this residence ? and never
more pleased than when no visitor came near us,
though no one delights more in the company of his
friends, and the friends of Jesus. But I find unspeak
able joy in the word of grace, at the throne of grace,
in meditation and contemplation, in recaUing past

THE RECTORY OF YELLING. 243
marvellous mercies and distinguishing grace, in look
ing forward to the final scene of man's eventful his
tory and my own pUgrimage ; while the business I
have with my famUy, -and my sermons — meeting with
a few poor cottagers every evening, who are, I trust,
members of Christ — ^make each passing day glide on
apace ; and weeks and months and years bring with
them abounding evidence of God's faithfulness and
overflowing goodness and everlasting love to the vU-
est of the vUe, as I sometimes do indeed appear to
myself." "But I have long since found, that if I turn my
eyes from Jesus, and expect my comfort from any
thing but from himself, I must be disappointed."
Such was the spfrit with which he met the trials of
the spiritual husbandman. " Twenty -five years ago,
I was certain I could reconcUe the word of God in
aU its parts, and be able to pray without distraction.
Now I wait for the light of eternity and the perfec
tion of holiness, in order that I may know any thing
as I ought to know."
Yet he labored lovingly on. "I have just now,"
he teUs us, "ventured on an undertaking for the dear
chUdren of my parish. I have engaged a master to
teach them all. How tenderly did our Saviour recom
mend Uttle chUdren to our regard. Had I any time
to begin anew, I would give myself more to this work.
In these labors of love, a sweet peace of mind is
enjoyed ; and when we teach, we are taught by the
great Master of assemblies. I venerate ihe name of
Dr. Francke of Halle, Saxony, who, when a profes-

244 LADY HUNTINGTON.
sor of greatest note in ihat university, felt his bowels
yearn over the children of the poor, and became thefr
teacher, though derided by the university for his heav
enly compassion. So differently did his God regard
the good work, that, from a small beginning, it was
soon enlarged to be among the ffrst charitable foun
dations, embalming his name for ages to come."
In 1777, his son John went to Cambridge, and
was entered as a student at Sidney College. The
introduction of a child on this sphere of effort, of dis
cipline, and of temptation must needs always be an
event of deep and anxious interest to the Christian
parent. This son had not disappointed parental fidel
ity, he grew up in the fear and nurture of the Lord ;
and solicitous to keep the fountain pure and guard
weU the outposts of Christian character, the father
impresses upon the lad the importance of dweUing
much upon the substantial parts of a Christian's Ufe.
"This substantial part," says he, "is modesty and
chastity, in opposition to pertness and Uupurity — tem
perance and sobriety, confronting the surfeit or drunk
enness of epicures — ^humUity and meekness, in oppo
sition to natural haughtiness and angry pride — guard
ed cheerfulness, under a sense both of the divine pres
ence and the mischief of noisy mfrth — love to God
and his word, expressed by a stern look when scoffers
pour out foolishness, and when a double entendre or
an infidel sneer is uttered — love of dUigent study,
serious acquaintance, useful conversation, with secret
prayer and meditatiourfin the word of Christ. Con
scious that you are living thus, and that this is your

THE RECTORY OF YELLING. 245
earnest purpose and daily prayer, you need have no
fear that you are making a compromise with the
world, or want that zeal for the Lord which true faith
inspfres. Nothing wUl put to silence the ignorance
of fooUsh men and conquer their prejudices like the
huinility, meekness, wisdom, and soundness of mind
which those who are really in Christ possess and
manifest. "I would advise you to study with attention and
exactness their characters who have obtained the im
mortal honor that they 'pleased God ;' such as Enoch,
Noah, Abraham, Moses, Joshua, Job. You may be
sure nothing is misrepresented here. You wUl see
what maimer of persons the Spfrit of God does form ;
you wiU see that supreme love to him, undaunted
valor in his cause, and resignation to his will, fully
possessed them. Then, lifting up your heart and eyes
to thefr God and your God, beg that, under a more
luminous dispensation and richer helps for spfritual
life and godliness, you may be a foUower of them who
are set before you for examples."
To Eling, his eldest daughter, he thus pours out
his soul in a letter on one of her bfrthdays : " I wish
you to be saying a thousand and a thousand times to
yourself, ' I am none of my own ; I am the Lord's.
Infiidte honor, unequaUed grandeur of condition, is
included in this relation. May I know how to set a-
just value upon it. I am the Lord's, to have the
benefit of his wisdom and unerring counsel. I am
the Lord's, to desfre from his might abUity to do
those things which by nature we cannot do. I am

246 LADY HUNTINGTON.
the Lord's, to be preserved and defendad by his ten
der care in this world of pits and snares and seduc
ing objects and malignant spfrits. / am the Lord's,
to hear his voice and treasure up his divine sayings.
/ am the Lord's, to do the work he has given me to
do by the allotment of his providence, and to be intent
on discharging it with aU diligence, humility, and
cheerfulness. / am the Lord's, not only to live, but
to die unto him.' Thus may our dear Eling be taught ;
and thus reckon herself to be alive to God from the
dead, through Jesus Christ our Lord. This is the
whole my heart can wish you. May you, living and
dying, be the Lord's."
" It is the pleasure and privUege peculiar to Chris
tians to make intercession for thefr children," he
writes to Kitty on her seventeenth birthday, "to be
looking up to the Father of mercies, to bestow upon
them what is necessary for their safety, their comfort,
and their usefulness. I have therefore early in the
morning of this anniversary presented my poor but
sincere prayers at the throne of grace in your behalf,
that you might dwell in safety. My dear Kitty wUl
not be at a loss to know on what account she need to
pray herself, and to desire all that love her sou! to do
so too, that she may be preserved. For you know, I
trust, what enemies are ever working to destroy you .
your corrupt nature is your most powerful enemy.
Who shall deliver you from it? He who left his
throne of glory to seek and to save that which was
lost. He can and will, upon your calling and lifting
up your soul to him. He wUl create you again after

THE RECTORY OF YELLING. 247
his own image ; give you wisdom and power to deny
yourself, to do the wUl of God,, to love him in sin
cerity, and to dweU in love to every one. Then you
are indeed safe.
"I have prayed also that you, my dear Kitty, may
spend your days in comfort — not in show or dress, or
in abundance of the things of this world, but in solid
comfort; knowing that you are accepted of God, and
that heaven is your eternal home. So our ever-blessed
Saviom*, when about to depart out of this world, told
his dearest friends, ' I wUl not leave you comfortless ;
I wUl come to you. My peace I give unto you.' AU
desfre comfort ; yet yo.ung and old, rich and poor, de
spise or neglect Jesus of Nazareth. They cannot believe
that the crucified man who died under the hands of his
enemies, is the God of peace and hope ; hence none
in thefr natural state have solid comfort. One only
can give it. It is pure, heart-satisfying comfort to
know that you have, in the Lord of aU, a companion,
a counseUor, and a most famffiar friend, who wiU be
ever present with your spfrit, who orders aU your con
dition, whether you shaU be sick or weU, lose or still
enjoy the advantage of very dear relations. In a
word, this alone is comfort, to have in God a Father,
to whom you can apply and rest satisfied with all
his wUl. "But comfort and safety are not the whole I
pray the Lord to provide for your soul. Useful
ness is the very excellency of life. No man, in the
real church of Christ, Uveth unto himself Every
true Christian is a tree of righteousness, whose fruits

248 LADY HUNTINGTON
are good and profitable unto all men. He is glad to
help and to comfort others. He is diligent and indus
trious. He dweUs in peace and gentleness and love.
He reproves what is wrong by an excellent example,
and recommends by his own practice what is pleasing
to God. " My dear Kitty, how have you been distinguished
by the divine goodness — distinguished in having your
bfrth in a land of gospel light, in your parents being
believers, in the examples you have seen, in the
instructions you have received, and in the pains
taken with you. AU these advantages you are to
improve, not as a task, but for your own enjoyment,
God having inseparably connected our duty and our
happiness. I figure you, therefore, to myself, as
maintaining a wise, discreet, and godly conversation;
satisfied with the portion the Lord divides unto his
clUldren ; acquafrited with spfritual blessings ; filling
up each day, so as to find time too short for all you
have to do."
Nor did the beloved youth of his own famUy and
parish alone share the affectionate assiduities of this
devoted man. His vicinity to Cambridge brought
many a serious student from ooUege halls to the
study and ffreside of YelUng, where they always
received a cordial welcome, and found in Mr. Venn a
wise counsellor and experienced teacher in heavenly
things. Mr. Venn had a quick insight into character and
exceUed in conversation, and these rendered his social
and pastoral influence very great. His manners were

THE RECTORY OF YELLING. 249
tender and sympathizing, inspfring confidence and
winning affection, and thus preparing the way for a
fideUty to the immortal interests of his fellow-men
which seldom gave offence. He had none of that
startUng, vehement, brUliant oratory which distin
guished some of his Ulustrious associates, but his
deep acquaintance with the distinguishing doctrines
of the word of God imparted an unspeakable solem
nity to his maimer, and a penetrating earnestness to
his language ; his preaching made all men feel that
they had business with God and eternity which must
not be trifled with, and could not be delayed.
In common with them he possessed the deep spfr-
ituaUty, the reverent, yet rejoicing spfrit, the abase
ment and the elevation which distinguish those who
fruly walk with God. His instructions were sound,
soUd, and eminently practical ; he aimed to establish
and buUd up weU-ordered Christian character, to
foster and strengthen the habits essential to holy
Uving. " Every prophet and every apostle," he said
to a son after he entered the ministry, "insists as
much on the fruits of faith, as upon faith itself and
the glory of Christ's person. The sovereign and elect
ing grace of God, by which alone we are brought to
him, bears no proportion in the Scriptures to the
continued mention that is made of the absolute neces
sity, beauty, and exceUency of a holy life and con
versation — ^bears no proportion, I say, to the practical
part of our reUgion." And this growth in grace, and
these fruits of faith, of which Venn himself was an
eminent example, can alone spring from an experi-
11*

250 LADY HUNTINGTON.
mental knowledge of, and a vital union with Christ
the crucified Saviour ; any thing short of tlus is delu
sive, and must produce mUdew, stagnation, and
death. No wonder that the young Timothys of Cam
bridge prized the friendship of the rector of YeUing ;
his influence was not lost upon them, and long after
his death it was perpetuated in the godly lives of
many an humble curate and zealous rector, whose
devoted piety adorned the next generation of English
clergymen.

ROWLAND HILL. 261
CHAPTER XVIII.
ROWLAND HILL,
Rowland Hill was now in the zenith of his pop
ularity. "Whitefield and Berridge had been his foster-
fathers in the Christian Ufe, nor did he ever disown
or dishonor his spfritual bfrthright ; with the humor
of the one, and the impressive oratory of the other,
united to the apostoUc zeal which belonged aUke to
both, he appeared in the highways and by-ways of
England, preaching repentance and remission of sins
through Christ the crucified Saviour. In chapels
and churches, market-places and moors, fields and
fafrs, wherever there were men to hear, there was
Rowland HUl enforcing with robust earnestness that
truth which thrUled his own soul; and especiaUy
were his strong sympathies drawn towards those
classes where vice has no disguise and sorrow no
aUeviations. During the political riots which broke out in
England in 1780, threatening the peace of the realm,
he often went to St. George's Fields, in the southern
suburb of London, a place of disorderly assemblages
and seditious vigUs, and dared to address vast con
courses of discontented and starving workmen upon
the verities of the world to come. His intrepid ad
dresses were charged with hidden power ; they pierced
the consciences of men hungry for bread, and heated

252 LADY HUNTINGTON.
with political excitement : the grievances of the pres
ent life, great as they seemed to be, and great as
they really were, sunk into comparative insignifi
cance before the momentous interests of the life to
come ; stout hearts gave way ; a cry went up for the
bread of life, and they who had nothing to expect
from eartlUy sovereigns, gained access to the throne of
grace. Nor is it to be wondered at, that hatred and
spite aimed thefr shafts at the bold yet true reform
er ; often he was pelted with stones, lampooned, burnt
in effigy, which, with the displeasure of his parents
and the undisguised uneasiness felt by many of his
true yet timid friends, might have damped a heart
less resolutely devoted to his Master's cause.
" True, I am what the world despises, a ' lay itin
erant,'" he says, "but I am certainly convinced of
the Lord's blessing on the work." And could he cease
from it ? Toplady mvited him to his house in Lon
don, and tried to dissuade him from his course ; but
the times needed just such men, and men were raised
up who recognized the call, and who were made
"strong in the Lord and in the power of his might."
" Because I am in earnest," he once said at Wot-
ton, "men caU me an enthusiast. But I am not;
mine are the words of truth and soberness. "When I
ffrst came into this part of the country, I was walking
on yonder hill ; I saw a gravel-pit fall in, and bury three
human beings alive. I lifted up my voice for help
so loud that I was heard in the town below, at a dis
tance of a mile ; help came, and rescued two of tho
poor sufferers. No one called me an enthusiast then ;

ROWLAND HILL. 851>
and when I see eternal destruction ready to fall upon
poor sinners, and about to entomb them irrecoverably
in an eternal mass of woe, and call aloud on them to
escape, shall I be caUed an enthusiast now ? No,
sinner, I am not an enthusiast in so doing : I call
on thee aloud to fly for refuge to the hope set before
thee in the gospel of Christ Jesus ;" and there were
times when the tremendous issues of Ufe and death,
of heaven and hell, were so vividly pictured to his
own mind, that the impassioned energy of his manner
was almost overwhelming. " I like to go and hear
Rowland HiU," said Sheridan, "because his ideas
come red-hot from the heart."
There was, indeed, no false show of feeling, no
trickeries of language, no assumed oddity of manner,
by which he or his iUustrious compeers attracted and
riveted the minds of both the learned and the un
learned, the rude and the refined, constraining them
to honor the messages of salvation by the attentive
ear, and, in how many cases, by the submission of
thefr hearts and the renewal of thefr lives.
The motto of the HiU famUy was, " Go forward ;"
words of stirring sigiuficance, which Rowland had
engraven on his seal, and which were the watchword
and epitome of his world-known career.
" Dear sir," wrote Berridge, who marked hia
progress with cheerly interest, " I mean, my dear
Rowley, your kind letter was long in coming, but it
brought good tidings and refreshed my heart. The
motto of your seal rejoiced me much ; it gave me a
peep into your bosom, and a taste of your letter before

254 LADY HUNTINGTON.
I read it. Indeed, I was afraid lest orders and some
other things would cure you of rambling ; but my
fears were groundless, and all is weU. The lampoon
published against you is a blessed omen for good,
that God intends to honor you. It seems to me a
happy token that you wUl remain an itinerant, and
that much good wUl arise from your ministry. Lu
ther used to say, when the Lord had fresh work for
him, a strong trial was sent beforehand to prepare
him for it by humUiation. Study not to be a fine
preacher. Jerichos are blown down with-ram's horns.
Look simply unto Jesus for preacliing food ; and what
is wanted wiU be given, and what is given wiU be
blessed, whether it be a barley or a wheaten loaf, a
crust or a crumb. Your mouth wiU be a flowing
stream, or a fountain sealed, according as your heart
is. Avoid aU controversy in preaching, talking, or
writing ; preach nothing down but the devil, and
nothing up but Jesus Christ."
These frregularities finding no favor with the eccle
siastical authorities, Rowland found much difficulty
in obtaining orders. His friends begged him to desist
while application was making in his behalf, and accord
ingly we find him at one time trying to keep quiet
at the house of a pious friend in Woburn. WhUe
here, he writes to Miss Tudway, the lady whom he it
about to marry, with the hearty and honest dfrectness
which always characterized him, in reply to her affec
tionate recommendations to abandon "the field."
" I beg you to be at ease about my conduct, ' ' he says,
" since I assure you I act with all the caution in my

ROWLAND HILL. 255
power. I know your heart is upright before God ; your
fearing mind frequently perplexes you : I am sure it is
a sign of a most tender heart, and such tender-hearted
disciples shaU never want direction from above. Here
I continue a prisoner, though a prisoner at large, under
this hospitable roof, and I have a hearty welcome to
stay untU the bishop's answer is received. On Satur
day, at farthest, I shaU hope to receive it, as I really
dread staying over here on the Sunday, my tempta
tions to preach wiU, I know, be so great ; and if I do
not, as I am known in these parts, I know it wUl
slacken dear Grove's hands and grieve the dear people
of God in the neighborhood. Here as well as in other
places, there seems to be a more extensive opening
than ever; 0 that I were at Uberty to labor for my
God." Through the intercession of his friends a favor
able answer was received, and Rowland was at last
ordained deacon by Dr. WUls, the aged Bishop of
Bath and Wells; and "through the kind and unex
pected interposition of Providence," he says, "I was
ordained without any condition or compromise what
ever." It was in June, 1773.
Unfettered then by "promise or condition," the
newly made deacon having afready ' ' endured hardness
as a good soldier of Jesus Christ, began to make fuU
proof of his ministry," by again resuming his home
missionary labors and preaching as he had opportu
nity. At one time we find him in Northampton,
standing where Doddridge stood twenty-five years
before, pleading the claims of that gospel whose sweet-

256 LADY HUNTINGTON.
ness and richness so filled his life and so fitted him
for death. Then he is at Olney, where no meeting
house could contain the thronging multitude ; then
among the fashion of Richmond, " expecting much
persecution ;" and on a Tuesday, at the Tabernacle
in London, attending a "general sacrament, lasting
from six till ten, where, blessed be God, thousands
communicated." Now we follow him to Wales and stop with him
some bright morning on the road, where he preaches,
at "the blessed consecration of an old barn, on pre
paring ' a habitation for the Lord.' " Rowland loves
the hearty tone of Welsh piety, it is "savory and
well baked," and he is received with open arms ; he
preaches three or four sermons a day, never less than
an hour long, and the people foUow him by thousands.
Another Whitefield is ranging over the hUls, another
Howell Harris is revisiting the beloved preaching
spots and reviving the hearts of God's dear people.
No inclemency of the weather hinders the gathering
of the peasantry. Many a time, it is said, did he
stand through a heavy shower, preaching to a vast
concourse of these hardy men, who seemed uncon
scious of the rain, and were as orderly and attentive
as if sunshine were overhead. No fafr weather hear
ers these ; and he used afterwards to say to his Lon
don audience, when the weather had kept them at
home on the Sabbath, "Ah, if you loved the gospel
as the Welsh do, you would not mind a shower."
These labors, abundant and blessed as there is
reason to believe they were by the great Bishop of

ROWLAND HILL. 257
souls, vexed those in authority, and prevented his
farther advancement in the church ; he never was
ordained priest, and the disappointment is only thus
briefly recorded : " Missing of full orders, I thought it
was my duty again to begin my public labors as
usual." The friendship of the church authorities
could give no additional value to his labors, nor could
its displeasure rob them of thefr power.
The Tabernacle and Tottenham-court haUed Row
land HUl as a successor of Whitefield, and crowds
attended on his preaching.
In the early part of his career, while under the
paternal frown. Lady Huntington had received the
ardent and self-forgetting young man with an open
heart, and gave him a cordial welcome beneath her
roof. Subsequently a coolness seems to have sprung
up between them : though mutually respecting each
other, and mutuaUy wishing each other God speed in
separate paths of usefulness, they do not appear to
have wrought harmoniously together.
The committee of Spa-fields chapel, anxious at
one time to secure his ser^dces for that portion of
London, consulted Lady Huntington in reference to
inviting him to supply the pulpit. In reply to the
letter addressed to her on the subject, she said, with
the distinctness which always marked her movements,
" Without reserve to you, my kind friend, and with
every best wish to dear Mr. Venn, Mr. HiU cannot
preach for me. This must not be pressed. Should
any future day prove it expedient, it may be con
sidered ; but be assured it cannot be now. Mr. Piercy

253 LADY HUNTINGTON.
wUl be succeeded at Spa-fields by Mr. Philips, the
master of the college, till some other of our ministers
return from thefr four quarterly excursions around the
kingdom. He is a gracious, worthy, and faithful min
ister ; he is not only sufficiently judicious for a critic
to hear, but welcome to every heart that loves the
Lord. Respected Christian love to you and dear Mr.
Venn, and to the committee."
Her conduct in reference to the young man, was
Uke the language of the patriarch of old to his kins
man Lot, "Let there be no strife, I pray thee, betwixt
me and thee ; for we be brethren. Is not the whole
land before thee ? Separate thyself, I pray thee, from
me." Would not much discontent and discord be
nipped in the bud, and the people of God be saved
from much just reproach, if they whose strong indi
vidualities or peculiar opinions cannot harmonize,
would kindly part, seeking distinct fields of labor,
"one to the right, and the other to the left ; for is not
the whole land before us ?"
Rowland is perhaps now at London, dweUing at
the Tabernacle parsonage, and helping to form a
society for the purpose of enabUng pastors to itinerate
in thefr immediate districts, after the example of
Berridge and Grimshaw ; this association received the
name of Societas Evangelica, or what with us would
be more famiUarly termed a home missionary Society.
Or perhaps he is at Wotton, the place which he called
home after his marriage, a beautiful town a hundred
mUes north-west of London, commanding a fine pros
pect of the Welsh mountains and the sUvery Severn,

ROWLAND HILL. 259
with woody knoUs and green dales, and all the rich
variety of an EngUsh landscape on every side. Here,
in a picturesque situation, he built a house, with a
chapel caUed The Tabernacle, which Robert Hall
pronounces "one of the most paradisiacal spots he
was ever in." But Mr. HUl's friends became anxious,
at last, to secure his permanent services in the great
mefropoUs ; accordingly a subscription was set on foot
for the purpose of erecting a chapel at St. George's
Fields, the scene of former conquests, and a region
whose spfritual barrenness loudly appealed to the
friends of humanity.
"I am persuaded your ladyship will rejoice,"
wrote Berridge to Lady Huntington, who was then
at Trevecca, "that dear Rowley is going, with the
Lord's help, to erect a standard for the gospel in the
very middle of the devU's dominions in London.
"What a beUowing and clamor the old enemy wUl
make, at this fresh invasion of his kingdom. But he
may storm and rage and persecute, Christ's cause
must and will prevaU over all opposition. A meet
ing has been held, and I am told the place fixed upon
is one of the worst spots in London. This much is
satisfactory. Fine soU for plowing and sowing ! By
and by, my lady, we shaU hear of the reaping time,
the harvest, and the harvest-home. How glorious
wUl be the triumphs of the gospel in that place.
Some of the blessed fruits we may expect to meet in
our Father's kingdom above. I need not remind your
dear ladyship to pour forth a voUey of prayers for the
success of this sanctuary."

260 LADY HUNTINGTON.
" Such," the countess tells us, "is the very reviv
ing news from London. I, who have known Mr. Hill
from his ffrst setting out, can testify, that no man
ever engaged with more heart-felt earnestness in
bringing captives from Satan to the glorious Uberty
of the gospel ; and it wUl require all the energies of
his zealous and enterprising spirit to erect the stand
ard of the cross in that part of London, where igno
rance and depravity prevaU to an awful degree.
Though I have seen sufficient cause to exclude him
from my chapel for the present, yet I cordiaUy rejoice
in the success which has attended his faithful labors.
I knew him when a youth at the university, when
persesuted by his family, when in pecuniary distress ;
and he was as a son to me, received into my house,
and preached for me everywhere. My heart's desfre
and prayer to God is, that this undertaking may pros
per most abundantly, and that many souls may there
be gathered to the true Shiloh, and be crov/ns of his
rejoicing in the great day."
Not only did the undertaking meet with her cor
dial approbation, but she aided it by a Uberal sub
scription. The corner-stone of this now weU-known
house of worship, called Surrey Chapel, situated be
tween Blaokfriars bridge and the Obelisk, south
of the Thames, was laid, with appropriate services,
on the 24th of June, 1782, when a sermon was
preached by Mr. HiU from Isaiah 28 : 16, " Behold, I
lay in Zion for a foundation a stone, a tried stone, a
precious corner-stone, a sure foundation." The chapel
Was vested in the hands of fifteen trustees, its doc*

ROWLAND HILL, 261
trinal basis the articles of the church of England,
and its pulpit free to pious ministers of all denomi
nations and of every country.
" The church turned me off, and not I her," its
pastor used to say in later times. " I confess, I Uke
a httle more liberty than she allows ; and, thank God,
I can ask the great Dr. Chalmers and great Dr. Mor
rison and others, when they come to London, to preach
in Sm-rey chapel pulpit. I suppose they would not
let St. Paul, if he were to come upon earth now,
preach in his own cathedral."
Surrey chapel, or Rowland Hill's chapel, as it is
frequently called, is an object of great interest to
Christian toaveUers from this side of the Atlantic;
and one says' of it, " Probably no place of worship
has been the source of more, institutions for promoting
the glory of God and the welfare of men, than this
has been;" indeed we find springing up, soon after
his settlement, a " School of Industry," a " Benevolent
Society for the ReUef and Personal Visitation of the
Sick Poor," a " Dorcas Association," a society or
" Social Meetings" for young converts; social prayer-
meetings were gathered here and there, in which he
mingled with a cordial and delighted interest ; and
afterwards he and liis church took an active part in
founding several of the principal benevolent institu
tions of the age.
Mr. Hill now became a settled pastor and a perma
nent resident of London, and lover as he was of the
picturesque and beautiful in nature, the change of
homes would have been painful to one less ardently

262 LADY HUNTINGTON.
attached to his heavenly work. The present occu
pants of Surrey side can hardly realize, that aU about
the house he then lived in was a swampy marsh edged
with the abodes of vicious poverty.
Yet Mr. HUl had his summer tours and haunts,
when he revisited the scenes of his early labors,
refreshed himself on the green banks of the Severn,
and rejoiced in his sylvan retreat at Wotton ; indeed,
he sometimes humorously subscribes himself, "Rector
of Surrey chapel, vicar of Wotton-under-edge, and
curate of all the fields, commons, etc., throughout
England and Wales."
His dear old friends Berridge and Venn sometimes
suppUed the pulpit of the absent pastor, and never
was he more gratified than when his people were
thus fed with the marrow and fatness of Christian
truth. An annual exchange also took place between
Mr. Hill and Dr. Scott, chaplain of the Lock hospital,
" After I had been a few years in London," said the
venerable commentator, " I refused to preach irreg
ularly, except as once a year I consented to exchange
pulpits with Mr. HUl of Surrey chapel, that being the
stipulated condition of his preaching a charity-sermon
for the hospital."
Rowland Hill, whose life and labors extended
more than thfrty years into the present century, and
whose fame was almost as much the wonder of our
childhood as was Whitefield that of our grand-parents,
is a bright ray from that elder time, when "Whitefield
and Wesley, Berridge and Venn, gemmed with their
heavenly radiance a dark night in the history of the
church.

THE SECESSION. 263

CHAPTER XIX.

THE SECESSION.

In Spa-fields, or Clerkenwell, as it is now better
known, then a northern suburb of London, a large
buUding had been erected caUed the Parthenon,
designed especiaUy for a place of Sunday amuse
ment, where, in its whfrlpools of riot and excess,
many both of the young and old wrecked their hopes
for this world and the next. But in this case, the
wages of sins proving low, the buUding was after a
whUe put up for sale or lease, and those who had the
spfritual desolations of that part of the metropolis at
heart, were anxious to secure it for a place of divine
worship. Two awakened clergymen belonging to
the estabUshment had thefr eyes fixed upon it for
this purpose, determining to fit it up at thefr own
expense for that preaching which would seek and
save them which are lost. Meanwhile Lady Hunt
ington, advised of the sale, immediately saw the im
portance of the stand, and began to consult with her
friends upon the propriety of taking it herself
Mr. Toplady discouraged the movement : the ffrst
outlay, he thought, must be large, and the stated
outgoings afterwards were calculated at £400 a year ;
the place was far out of town, and the ways to it
none of the best in winter. "And consider also," he

264 LADY HUNTINGTON.
adds, "the supply of constant and able ministers
which such a chapel would, requfre ; where are they
to be had ?"
Lady Huntington yielded to the prudent sugges
tions of her advisers, though contrary to her wishes
and convictions; "for my heart," she tells us, "is
sfrongly set upon having this temple of foUy dedi
cated to Jehovah Jesus, the great Head of his church
and people. Dear Mr. Berridge does not discourage
the undertaking, but says I may count upon a fit of
sickness if I engage in this affafr. I feel so deeply
for the perishing thousands in that part of London,
that I am ready to run any risk ; and though at this
moment I have not a penny to command, yet I am
so firmly persuaded of the goodness of the Master
whose I am, and whom I desire to serve, that I shaU
not want gold or silver for the work. It is his cause ;
he has the hearts of aU at his disposal, and I shaU
have help when he sees fit to employ me in his ser
vice. Nevertheless, with some regret, I give up the
matter this time ; those on the spot may be able to
judge better than I can, 'but faith tells me to go for
ward, nothuig fearing, nothing doubting."
Lady Huntington having reUnquished her plans,
the building was taken by a company of gentlemen,
who converted it into a place of divine worship and
engaged two exceUent preachers to supply the desk.
Thus a faithful and efficient ministry was set up in
Spa-fields. The spacious edifice was filled with
hearers, while the whole neighborhood shared in thefr
labors of love ; the sick were visited, the sorrowful

THE SECESSION. 265
Comforted, and sinners were led to repentance and
newness of Ufe.
Thg zealous and abundant labors of these faithful
men soon stfrred up the hostUity of the minister of
St. James, the parish church, who, resenting the im
plied reproach which their earnest ministrations cast
upon himself, determined if possible to drive them
from the field. He accordingly set up his right to
nominate the chaplains and preach in the chapel
whenever he pleased; he formaUy demanded the
sacramental money, and aU the income derived from
the seats or other sources to be paid to him, and on
pain of non-compUance threatened to bring the mat
ter before the ecclesiastical courts.
These claims, so subversive of the rights and
authority of the proprietors,, were firmly resisted ;
the curate, whose motives incUned him neither to
generosity nor justice, exasperated by the dignified
stand of the proprietors, commenced a suit against
the Spa-fields preachers in the Consistorial court of
the Bishop of London. The offending clergymen
were speedily cited to appear before it to answer to
the charge of irregularity, in carrying on divine wor
ship in a place not episcopally dedicated, and in oppo
sition to the wishes of the minister of the parish.
Verdicts were found against them, and they were
ordered to desist from thefr ministrations ; the chapel
was closed, and the once flourishing congregation
broken up and scattered.
The affafr gave great pain to the friends of true
religion. As soon as the result was known. Lady
Hoatinpton. *- ^

266 LADY HUNTINGTON.
Huntington hastened to London to see if something
could not be done in order to rescue the chapel from
the persecuting curate. An opportunity now offered
to follow counsels less timid than those formerly
given, and more in harmony with her own daring
and hopeful spfrit. Lord Dartmouth aud Mr. Thorn
ton advised Lady Huntington to become proprietor
of the chapel, and thus place it on a footing with her
other chapels, under the protection and jurisdiction of
a peeress of the realm.
"Blessed be God," she exclaims, "for the abUity
and strength which has been given me in "the prose
cution of this affair. 0 pray that His presence may
be with us at the dedication, and the power of his
arm revealed in the conversion of sinners to himself.
My eye is dfrected to this ultimate and only end ol
all my labors."
The house passed into her hands, and was again
opened under auspices favorable to true religion.
Lady Huntington's income at this time was no more
than sufficient to meet the already numerous de
mands made upon it by her various undertakings to
extend the Redeemer's kingdom. But her faith and
courage never failed. Her vigorous and resolute
spfrit rose above aU timid counsels or temporary pol
icy, in things needful to be done. Once clearly decided
in her views of duty, she knew no faltering, and her
" must be " carried with it a wonderful power to clear
away the hinderanoes which might stop the progress
of less ardent and resolute temperaments.
We note at this time this pleasing incident. A

IHE SECESSION. 267
gentleman who assisted her in the management of
Spa-fields chapel, caUed one' day at her house to
remonstrate with her on the impropriety of taking
measures for another chapel in the metropolis, with
out having the means for carrying them out. Before
he left the house her letters arrived. As she opened
one, her face brightened and tears came into her eyes.
The letter ran thus : " An individual who has heard
of Lady Hontington's exertions to spread the gospel,
requests her acceptance of the enclosed draft." It
was for five hundred pounds, the exact sum then
requfred for the purposed undertaking. " Here," said
she, "take it, and pay for the chapel ; and be no longer
faithless, but beUeving."
As a peeress of the realm. Lady Huntington be-
Ueved she possessed the right of employing her own
chaplains when and where she chose on her own prem
ises. In this, however, she was destined to be unde
ceived ; for the curate of St. James, with unabated
zeal, renewed his attack both upon her chapel and
preachers, and once more carried the matter before
the tribunals of the church, and here she fared no
better than her predecessors. The suit was decided
against her ; verdicts were issued against Dr. Haweis
and Mr. Glascott, the preachers of Spa-fields, and they
were prohibited from again exercising thefr ministeriS.]
functions at the chapel. Harassed by the suit, and
surprised at the result. Lady Huntington lost no time
m consulting the highest legal advice, and submitted
the following questions to a leadmg lawyer at the
English bar ;

268 LADY HUNTINGTON.
" Is the domestic ch'apel of a peer of this realm
exempt from ecclesiastical jurisdiction, and licensed ?
" What constitutes such domestic chapel ? Is it
sufficient that it be contiguous with the house or
usual residence of such peer, and that divine service
be performed according to the church of England,
by a regularly ordained minister ? •
" May such chapel be opened to any besides his
immediate domestics, if such peer pleases to admit
them? " Must the clergyman so officiating necessarily
be registered in the Commons; or is an appointment
under such peer's hand and seal, with or without a
pecuniary appointment for his services, necessary to
constitute him legally qualified for such ministry ?
" If he is cited into the Commons for such exer
cise of his ministry, can he refuse to appear ? WUl
his plea, as domestic chaplain of such peer, be suffi
cient bar to further proceedings ? Can the case be
carried into the King's Bench or House of Lords ?
"Is it necessary that such chapel should be regis
tered in the Bishop's court ?"
Her inqufries were promptly answered and accom
panied by a letter from Mr. Glynne, which will be
read with interest in these days of light and freedom :
" In the notes to the queries which your ladyship
did me the honor to transmit to me," says he, " you
will perceive there are great difficulties in your way.
Ecclesiastical law, as it now stands, is against you
in some points — points which would not be insur
mountable, were our bishops differently minded ; but I

THE SECESSION. 269
regi"et to say that the spirit and the temper of too many
of our ecclesiastical rulers is very unfavorable to any
Uberal or tolerant system ; so that nothing can be ex
pected of a se't of men who seem so determined, on all
occasions, to crush the spirit of inquiry, free opinion,
and liberty of conscience. I anxiously look for refor
mation in some matters connected with the estab
hshed church, to which I am conscientiously attached ;
and though I may not live to see any great change,
yet I am persuaded the time is not far distant, when
bishops wiU deeply lament that persecuting spirit
which has driven so many from ^the church, and
which in too many instances is more in accordance
with the intolerant spfrit of the Romish church, than
with .the enUghtened principles of the Protestant
faith." The spfrit of opposition thus fafrly let loose against
Lady Huntington, encouraged by ecclesiastical au
thority, she saw no end to the litigations which might
ensue, bringing a long train of perplexities and ex-
'penses which must essentially embarrass her opera
tions and impair her usefulness. Under these cir
cumstances, she cast about in her mind how to free
herself from the power which could persacute. Sor-
rowfuUy and anxiously, but not long, did she con
sider the painful subject.
" Should further actions come," she says, "I must
patiently endure whUe power conquers right. In this
case I am reduced to turn the finest congregatiiin,
not only in England but in any part of the world,-
mto a dissenting meeting, unless by the medium of

270 LADY HUNTINGTON.
secession. Our ministers might occupy a neutrality
between church and dissent-secession. Such minis
ters could supply any work that opened, yet not be
obnoxious to either party, whUe by preachmg and
practice they- maintained the doctrines of the Refer
mation. Little, weak, and insufficient as I account
my light among others, this becomes the only noble
and honest testimony."
It was not without a struggle that Lady Hunt
ington decided to take a step which must not only lay
her open to invidious remark and severe censure, but
deprive her of the ministerial cooperation of some of
her most esteemed friends. The decision of the Con
sistorial court had indeed already done this, but her
proposed course would confirm that decision, and
place her, if beyond the control, also beyond the pro
fessional services of faithful and true men of the
English church. The example and success of Wes
ley encouraged her ; and she felt that a denomination
differing from "the Wesleyans in holding the doc
trinal articles of the church of England in thefr Cal-
vinistio sense — from the Independents, by admittmg
the lawfulness, and in many cases the expediency of
using a scriptural Uturgy — from the church of Eng
land herself, in being free to adopt whatever they
deem valuable in her services, and to refuse what
appears to them objectionable, whUe they are exempt
from that corrupting influence to which she is exposed
by her union with the state," and yet agreeing with
each in the essential doctrines of the gospel, might
occupy a most favorable position for those evangel-

THE SECESSION. 271
izing labors which England then seemed so much to
need. And she was the more urged to this on sur
veying the good already accomplished by her chapels,
and beholdin'g what large and destitute fields still
opened for the faithful efforts of her students and
preachers. "I am to be cast out of the church now," she
says, " only for what I have been doing these forty
years — speaking and living for Jesus Christ ; and if
the days of my capti'vity are now to be accomplished,
those that turn me out, and so set me at liberty, may
soon feel what it is by sore distress themselves for
these hard services which they have caused me.
Blessed be the Lord, I have not one care relative to
this event, but to be found exactly faithful to God
and man through aU. I have been severely handled
and vilified, but none of these things move me, deter
mined that the short remnant of my life shaU be em
ployed in setting up the standard and enlarging the
cfrcle of evangelical Ught and truth."
" Hitherto it had not been generaUy understood,"
says her English biographer, " how far the privileges
of a peeress of the realm extended; but the trials
which took place at the Consistorial court of London
respecting Spa-fields chapel, ffrst decided the charac
ter of Lady Huntington's chapels as dissenting places
of worship. Conscientious clergymen at this decis
ion were painfully cfrcumstanced. On the one hand
multitudes in every neighborhood were perishing in
ignorance ; on the other, the regulations of the estab
lished church forbade their stepping over the bounda-

272 LADY HUNTINGTON.
ries of a parish. The result was, that many, though
sincerely attached to the church of England, pre
ferred what seemed to them the lesser evUs, and
preached beyond the limits of their own parishes,
but generally without incurring ecclesiastical penal
ties. Berridge's caustic reply to the reproof of his
diocesan for preaching beyond parish bounds, is well
known: 'Why, my lord, I see many parsons play
ing at bowls and going a hunting out of their parishes,
yet they are not rebuked ; why should I be blamed
more than they ?' "
In .order to be freed from all further annoyances,
two gentlemen of the established church, Messrs.
WUls and Taylor, who had been prohibited by the
court from preaching in Lady Huntington's chapels,
determined to secede from the establishment, and tak
ing the oaths of allegiance as dissenting ministers,
find shelter under the Toleration aot. Mr. WiUs was
then appointed minister at Spa-fields, and henceforth
the worship of God was carried on without molesta
tion. Although misrepresented and misunderstood,
their vindication shows them to be men whose can
dor, common-sense, and true catholicity no one could
seriously call in question.
"We beg leave," they say to the archbishops and
bishops of the church of England, "with aU humUity
and due respect, to inform your lordships, that we have
for some time past been engaged in the service of the
chapels belonging to the countess dowager of Hunt
ington; apprehending that those places of worship,
under the protection of her ladyship as a peeress of

THE SECESSION. 273
the realm, were in no wise contrary to the laws,
ecclesiastical and civU.
"But whereas, by a late decision of the Consisto
rial court of the Bishop of London, it appears that hei
ladyship cannot authorize us to officiate in her chap-
els in the public manner wherein we have been
accustomed to exercise our ministry, we perceive
ourselves — as long as we continue in the established
church — reduced to the. necessity of knowingly and
wilfuUy opposing the law of that church, whereof we
are at present ministers, or of withdrawing our ser
vices from the various congregations to whom we have
administered for a long season, and trust we have,
by the blessing of God, been made useful. But as
we cannot take either of these steps with a good con
science, nor submit to those ecclesiastical canons that
would prevent the discharge of the ministerial com
mission we have received from God and man to the
fuUest extent ; and yet desfre from principle — as we
have invariably done from our ordination — ^to spread
and maintain faithfuUy the fundamental doctrines
contained in the. articles, homUies, and liturgy of the
church of England, through the various parts of the
kingdom as we have opportunity, we think there is
no alternative left but for us to secede or withdraw
peaceably from the estabhshed church, and under the
protection of the Toleration act, continue to maintain
her doctrines, though we cannot in aU things submit
to her discipline. And this we desfre to do, not from
a factious or schismatical spfrit, not from a design
to propagate heresies in the church of God, nor from
12*

274 LADY HUNTINGTON.
any sinister or lucrative motives whatsoever ; but for
a simple view of glorifying "God, of preaching the
gospel, and of being useful to our fellow-creatures in
that way which is most agreeable to our own con
sciences, and which we humbly conceive to be the
most calculated for the general good of those many
thousands that attend the ministry of ourselves and
of those connected with us."
This manly stand did credit to them as Christian
men and ministers of God.
The students of Trevecca, no longer being able
to obtain episcopal ordination, were henceforth to be
ordained on the plan of secession ; and on the 9th of
March, 1783, the ffrst ordination of ministers in Lady
Huntington's connection took place in Spafields chap
el. Six young men from Trevecca were to be set
apart to the office of the holy ministry, and the chap
el at an early hour was filled to overflowing. A pro
found solemnity rested upon the large congregation.
After the opening supplications and hymns of praise,
Mr. Taylor reviewed the reasons which had led to
a secession, and the motives which influenced himself
and his coworker Mr. WiUs in detaching themselves
from the estabUshment.
" This Bible, this precious Bible," said the speaker,
laying his hand upon the inspfred volume, "we take
for our rule, and acknowledge it as such in all matters
of faith and practice. We have not, we dare not take
any other. Believing this book, therefore, to be the only
standard, we receive or refuse the sentiments, opinions,
and doctrines of every man, as weighed in this balance

THE SECESSION. 275
And further, believing this pure word of God, we
abjure that heretical tenet which supposes either
that the popes of Rome, the bishops of England, or
any individual whatever, is the head of Christ's
church. Tills is a prerogative belonging only to Christ
himself Him, therefore, and only him we acknow
ledge as such."
After intermediate services, the confession of faith
already subscribed to by the ordaining clergymen, and
to be received by ministers in the connection, was
pubUcly read, which' recognized aU the distinguishing
docfrines of the gospel.
At the laying on of hands, the candidates knelt
before the altar and each received from the ordaining
clergyman a copy of the Bible, with the injunction,
" Take thou authority to preach the word of God, and
to administer his appointed ordinances, in the name
of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost."
After this, a solemn and impressive charge was given
by Mr. Wills from the words of Paul to Timothy :
" Take heed unto thyself, and to thy doctrines ; con
tinue in them : for in doing this thou shalt both save
thyself and them that h^^ar thee."
Henceforth the societies of Lady Huntington be
came known as a separate denomination ; free in exer
cising thefr powers, and untrammelled by ecclesiastical
restrictions, but cut off from those who once loved to
labor with them and for them. Romaine and Venn no
longer officiated in those pulpits once so dear to them,
although they still cordially loved the chapels, and
maintained an unabated attachment to their founder.

276 LADY HUNTINGTON.
At the' time of the secession, the connection num
bered sixty-seven chapels, seven only of which were
the private property of the countess ; and though the
control which she exercised over them was not a
strictly legal one, yet, originated -and aided by her
princely munificence, she was, during her Ufetime,
thefr natural overseer or head, and her strong powers
of mind, united with her knowledge and taste for
business, pecuUarly fitted her for the oversight of this
gi-eat work. She kept herself carefully informed of
the state of affairs, appointed and removed ministers,
dfrected the labors of students, appointed laymen in
each congregation to superintend its secular concerns,
indited letters of advice and admonition, received ap
plications for preachers, conducted a numerous cor
respondence ; in a word, such was her strong person
al and, moral influence, that no changes were made
or plans executed in the connection, without her coun
sel and approbation.
" Of what church do you profess yourselves ?" was
asked of Dr. Haweis, one of the trustees of Lady
Huntington's property.
"Wc'desire," he replies, "to be esteemed inem-
bers of Christ's catholic and apostolic church, and es-
sentiaUy one with the church of England, of which
we regard ourselves as Uving members. And though,
as the church of England is now governed, we are
driven to a mode of ordaining ministers and maintain
ing societies not amenable to what we think abused
episcopal jurisdiction, yet our mode of governing and
regulating our congregations will probably be allowed

THE SECESSION. 277
to be essentially episcopal. With us a few preside.
The doctrines we subscribe are those of the church of
England, in the literal and grammatical sense. Nor
is the Uturgy of the church performed more devoutly,
or the Scriptures •better read for the edifying of the
people, by any congregations in the realm, than by
those ia our connection."

278 LADY HUNTINGTON.

CHAPTER XX,
HARVEST-HOME.
Lady Huntington had now gone beyond three
score years and ten, with no abatement of her labors,
or of the vigor and resoluteness <which distinguished
her character. She knew indeed neither weariness
nor rest. The new divine life with which she arose
from her sick-bed in the days of her youth and splen
dor, was subject to none of the inffi-mities of the
natural body ; and far beyond the common Ufe of man,
it seemed to lift her above the weakness of the flesh,
and clothe decaying nature with the strength and
beauty of an immortal vesture. Lady Anne Erskine
was her constant companion, devoted to her interests,
animated by the same lofty purposes, and wUlUig
both to suffer and rejoice with her.
In 1789, the venerable countess was caUed to
mourn the death of her eldest son. Lord Huntington,
nor was this the only occasion when her heart had
bled on account of him. He was an elegant and
accomplished man, and had fiUed several offices of
trust and honor under his sovereign; but strongly
tinctured with the profligacy and practical infidelity
of the times, he neither understood the excellency of
his mother's principles in Ufe, nor their saving power
in death. Mr. Grimshaw had many conversations
with Ihe young earl, and pronounced the fault not so

HARVEST-HOME. 278
much in the head as the heart. Wherever it was,
he died as he had Uved, at the age of sixty years.
During her last years, Lady Huntington lived
the greater part of the year at her house in Spa-fields,
London, next door to the chapel, where her style of
hving befitted less an English peeress than an heir of
glory. Her equipage and furniture were extremely
simple ; and although her income was much increased
at her son's death, so ample were her benefactions
that she aUowed herself but one dress a year, a degree
of economy that might well shame many a Christian
woman whose adorning consists far more in the
" putting on of apparel," than " the hidden man of
the heart in that which is not corruptible."
"I remember," said one, " calling on her with a
person who came from the country: when we came
out he turned his eye towards the house, and after a
short pause exclaimed, "What a lesson ! Can a per
son of her noble birth, nursed in the lap of grandeur,
hve in such a house, so meanly furnished ? and shall
I, a tradesman, be surrounded with luxury and ele
gance ? From this moment I shall hate my house,
ray furniture, and myself for spending so little for
God, and so much in folly."
" With an income of only twelve hundred pounds
a year, spent in the service of God, what wonders
was she able to perform," exclaims one of her friends.
" She maintained the coUege at her own expense,
she erected chapels in most parts of the kingdom,
and she supported preachers who were sent to preach
in various parts of the world. This, was indeed con-

280 LADY HUNTINGTON.
secration to God. Go thou, therefore, who art say
ing, ' Vf hat shall I render unto the Lord for aU his
benefits ?' and do likewise. Thou canst not evidence
thy love to God or man by adding house to house
and field to field, or by treasuring up thy riches be
hind the exchange. On the contrary, if God hath
given thee w-ealth with a liberal hand, and thou hast
no heart to expend it in his service, it wiU convince
every being but thyself that thou hast no love to him,
and that thy professions are not thy principles."
In approaching her eighty-fourth year. Lady Hunt
ington felt that her work was nearly done ; the in
firmities of age came upon her, and the once robust
and active frame, so alert to do the bidding of its
spfritual tenant, began to ask for indulgence and to
crave rest. Her business was carefuUy arranged, her
extensive charities all provided for, responsible per
sons had been selected to carry out her plans, and
though stiU diligent with the business of the evening,
she looked forward vnth "strong immortal hope" to
the dawn of that to-morrow whose glorious sun would
have no setting.
As she sits in her elbow-chair, and memory runs
back over the long past, and through this briUiant
period of the history of the church signalized by so
many triumphs and trophies, is there no whisper of
self-gratulation for the conspicuous part which she
bore, the friend and helper of God's chosen ones, the
leader and counseUor of many of his people ?
" 0, who would dare to produce the best works of
his best days before God for their own sake?" .she

HARVEST-HOME. 281
exclaims ; " sufficiently blessed and secure are we,
if we can but cry, ' God be merciful unto me a sin
ner.' Let me be found 'accepted in the Beloved.'"
"Drawmg near to him," she said on another occa
sion, " what hope could I entertain, if I did not know
the efficacy of his blood ? How little could any thing
of mine give a moment's rest to' the departing soul —
so much sin and self mixing with the best, and always
so short of what I owe."
Coming fi-om her chamber one morning, and tak
ing her place in the easy-chair, an unwonted light
was spread over her coimtenance. " The Lord hath
been present with my spfrit this morning in a remark
able manner," she soon said; "what he means to
convey to my mind I know not ; it may be my ap
proaching departure : my soul is filled with glory —
I am as in the element of heaven itself"
Only a few days after this she ruptured a blood
vessel, from the effects of which she never recovered.
" How do you feel ?" asked Lady Anne, who sat
at the bedside of her friend.
" I am weU ; all is weU, well for ever," was the
friumphant answer of this aged believer. "I see,
wherever I turn my eyes, whether I live or die,
nothing but victory." What was there in the weak
ness and suffering of decaying nature to dictate a
reply like this ?
Her sickness commenced in November ; the silver
cord was gently loosed, for she lingered through the
wmter untU June. By the ministry of sickness she
grew patient and childUke, and often said, " I ara

282 LADY HUNTINGTON.
cradled in the arms of love and mercy ;" and again,
when it seemed a great way to the better land, she
"longed to be at home." "My work is done; I
have nothing to do but to go to my Father ;" and a
few hours before the last struggle she whispered joy
fuUy, " I shall go to my Father to-night ;" and so she
went home, June 17, 1791. Her age was eighty-
four. She was buried in the family tomb at Ashby-
de-la-Zouch, and her name is" with the Mfriams, the
Marys, and the Marthas of the church of God.
Berridge, Romaine, and Venn, aU in the evening
of thefr days, still lingered on the earthly scene. It
was during tlUs year that the rector of YeUing came
to preach in London for the last time, and he says,
" I took my final leave of Surrey chapel, addressing
myself to a great multitude from Heb. 10 : 23 : ' Let
us hold fast the profession of our faith without waver
ing; for He is faithful that promised.' My work is
nearly ended."
Soon after, accompanied by two of his children,
he paid a visit to the venerable pastor of Everton,
" dear 'brother Berridge, whose sight," he tells us,
"is very dim, his ears can scarcely hear, and his
faculties are fast decaying ; but Ui this ruin of the
earthly tabernacle, it is refreshing," adds his friend,
"to see the joy in his countenance and the Uvely
hope with which he looks for the day of his dissolu-
tion. In his prayer with me and my chUdren, we
were much affected by his commending himself to
the Lord as if quite alone, not being able to read,
or hear, or do any thing ; ' but I have. Lord,'

HARVEST-HOME. 283
said he, ' thy presence and thy love ; that suf-
ficeth.' "
Mr. Berridge's large fortune seems to have been
far spent towards the close of his life, for we find
Romaine in London begging in his behalf for "the
support of two preachers and thefr horses, for several
local preachers, and the rent of some barns for them
to preach in ;" so that he strove to keep his under-
shepherds stUl in the field. Nor did he himself ever
relinquish his work ; for we find him making his
yearly visits to the metropolis whUe life lasted, and
with tottering steps climbing up the pulpit stairs of ¦
the Tabernacle and Surrey chapel, revered for tho
stm-dy godliness of his character, and pointed out to
strangers for the quaint sayings and eccentric doings
which had been noised about concerning him through
out the kingdom. He was expected in London to
preach, when tidings came of his death in 1793, aged
seventy-six. Let us go to Blaokfriars or St. Dunstan's and
once more see Romaine, although there is said to be
little left in his sermons but heaven, and the doc
trines which he so long preached as truths, he now
finds in a deep and rich experience to be blessings
indeed. He is a cheerful, pleasant old man. Like a
newly found diamond, he was once rough, very sharp,
and of great point, but the discipUne of many years
has polished the hard exterior, and brought forth its
hidden lustre ; his vfrtues shine with a softer and
serener beauty.
His summer and winter campaigns Romaine kept

284 LADY HUNTINGTON.
up, like a brave old soldier, to the last; during the
winter remaining at his post in London, and in sum-
m.er visiting the towns and villages which were the
scenes of his early conquests, and now rich with the
trophies of his zeal and faithfulness.
The last year of his life his strength gradually
began to fail, and when people met and asked him
how he was, his usual answer was, "As well as I
can be out of heaven ;" and at the close of a seven
weeks' illness, the last words which lingered on his
bloodless Ups were, " Holy, holy, holy, blessed Jesus,
¦to thee be endless praise !" He died in 1795, aged
eighty-one. Venn is now writing, " I am so infirm as not to
be able to pray with my own family ; nevertheless,
' Pie that loved me will love me to the end ;' " and
then, with an ever-thoughtful tenderness for others,
he says, " One thing only I desire without ceasing,
that for the sake of the thousands to whom I have
preached the unsearchable riches of Christ, I may in
the hour of death look through an opened heaven to a
crucified Saviour smUing upon a poor guilty soul."
His wife died a year before him, and all his chil
dren having married except Kitty, who remained his
nurse and devoted companion, he left the rectory of
YeUing and came to Clapham, where his son was
rector, and dwelt with him. It is said that the near
prospect of dissolution so elated his mind that it
proved a stimulus to life. On one occasion Mr. Venn,
observing some fatal symptoms, said, " Surely these
are good." " Sir," answered the physician, " in this

HARVEST-HOME. 285
state of joyous excitement you cannot die." Nor
wiU he die ; "he yet liveth and speaketh, though he
passed from the earthly scene in 1797, at the age of
seventy-three, and entered upon those joys, blessed
foretastes of which cheered, comforted, nay, in mo
ments often transported his sold, in its pilgTimage
below Standing as we are at the bed of death, in the
glowing language of the lyric shaU we not exclaim,
" How glorious is the gift of faith.
That cheers the darksome tomb,
And througii the damp and gloomy grave
Can shed a rich perfume.
" Triumphant faith ! it lifts the soul
Above desponding fears ;
Exults in hope of heaven her home,
And longs to enter there."
"Who is not. ready to put up the heartfelt petition,
"May iny last days be Uke theirs?" Are you as
ready to flee from the wrath to come ; as ready to
embrace the offers of mercy through a crucified Re
deemer ; as ready to lay hold on eternal life ? The
triumphs of faith are for those who lead a believer's
life. In her wiU, Lady Huntington devised her chap
els, houses, furniture, and aU the residue of her
estates and effects, to four trustees, Dr. Haweis and
his wife. Lady Anne Erskine, and Mr. Lloyd, dfrect
ing them at thefr death to appoint successors ; and in
a codicU requesting her chUdren, the Countess of
Mofra and her husband being the only, survivors, to

286 LADY HUNTINGTON.
approve and conffrm the disposition which had thus
been made of her property.
The lease of the college building at Trevecca
ha'ving nearly expired, measures had been adopted
before the countess' death to remove the institution
somewhere nearer London ; for this purpose a build
ing and lands were taken at Cheshunt, delightfully
situated on New river, twelve miles from London.
It was reopened on the 24th of August, 179.2, the
anniversary of its establishment at Trevecca, and of
the bfrthday of its distinguished founder and patron
ess. In anticipation of her death, and the consequent
loss of income from that source, funds had been raised
for its future support, and the interests of the coUege
vested in the hands of seven trustees, in whom resides
the right of admitting or rejecting students, and the
appointment or dismissal of tutors. The students
are boarded and educated for four years, entfrely at
the charge of the college ; and according to the Uberal
principled of the institution, every student is ..at lib
erty, at the close of the prescribed course of study, to
serve in the ministry of the gospel in any of the
churches of the Lord Jesus Christ. Rev. Isaac Nich
olson of the established church was appointed presi
dent. Dr. John Harris, whose "Great Teacher" has
taught so many on this side of the Atlantic, is now
theological professor at Cheshunt.
When it was known what disposition Lady Hunt
ington had made of her property, the trustees agreed
that as Lady Anne Erskine had long been familiar

HARVEST-HOME. 287
with the business transactions of the connection, she
should be requested still to occupy the house at Spa.
fields and carry on the necessary correspondence, and
exercise a superintending control — advising with her
colaborers, and rendering an account to them, when
required, of the state of affafrs.
Lady Anne inherited much of the talent of the
Erskine famUy.v At the age of eight years she first
felt the strivings of the Holy Spfrit, and though her
early life was passed amid the fashionable follies of
her rank and day, an acquaintance with the Hills of
Hawkstone revived her reUgious feelings, and led her
to a serious consideration of eternal things. At Bath
she met Lady Huntington, whose conversation and
example instructed and conffrmed her faith ; she
turned from the pomps and vanities bf the world, and
made an unreserved dedication of herself to the ser
vice of her Lord. Congenial in thefr purposes and
principles. Lady Anne was taken to the countess'
heart, and invited to her home, where she found scope
for that activity of mind which could not rest satis
fied vrithout its appropriate work to do.
" During the twelve years after her active life
commenced," runs a brief account of her, " she was
indefatigably employed in the work of God. Her
correspondence was very extensive. Her room was
hardly without visitors from morning till night, giv
ing an account of commissions fulfilled, or taking
dfrections where to go and what to do. She im
proved every opportunity of conversing with the
friends who visited her, especially the young. In

288 LADY HUNTINGTON.
deed, her whole time and thoughts seemed to be
engaged to fiU up her place, feeling it her delight,
as well as her duty, to discharge her trust, as she
must answer to the great Shepherd and Bishop of
souls." At Lady Huntington's death, her income was re
duced to a mere pittance ; but she knew in whom she
trusted, and many a time was her faith encouraged
by receiving supplies in ways most unexpected and
for times of the greatest need. One day a lady, on
leaving, put a letter on her table, which Lady Anne
sent back, supposing it left through mistake. The
lady begged her to keep it, and on opening it she
found five notes of one hundred pounds each. "A
fortune has been left me," said the lady, "and I desire
to honor the Lord with my substance and the ffrst
fruits of my increase. I give it to you to strengthen
your hands in the cause of God."
" I had not," said Lady Anne, "a shUling in the
house at the time. Application had been made to me
to receive a chapel into the cormection, which I was
obliged to refuse ; but as soon as I received this mon
ey, I sent for the parties and gave it the requfred
aid." Lady Anne sui-vived her friend twelve years, and
after some weeks of slight indisposition, was found
one morning sleeping in Jesus.
From an EngUsh standpoint shall we not take
one backward glance over the stirring scenes just
olo.sing around us ?

HARVEST-HOME. 289
"Whether the chapels in Lady Huntington's con
nection are at this time few or many," says Isaac
Taylor in his late admirable work on Methodism, "is
a matter of no general moment to inquire ; for whether
few or many, the connection has subsided into its
place as one among the religious communities that
hold orthodoxy and evangelic doctrine ; and probably
it is efficient in a full proportion to its statistics. But
with this we have here no concern. What does
concern us, is the fact that much that has become
characteristic of evangelic Christianity at the pres
ent time, had its origin in Lady Huntington's draw
ing-room, that is to say, in the cfrcle of which she
was the centre, and her house the gathering point. In
a diffusive or undefined manner this reUgious style
has pervaded aU reUgious communions; but within
the Episcopal church the transmission was more deter
minate, and more sharply outlined, and it may there
be traced ¦with more precision, and is pregnant with
further consequences.
"In fact, this reUgious transnussion, which con
nects the venerated names of Venn, Ne-wton, Scott
Milner, and others in no very remote manner with
the founders of Methodism, might seem too conspicuous
to be caUed in question : nor does it very clearly ap
pear what those manly and Christian-like feelings are,
which would prompt any parties to repudiate it.
"It is the Episcopal church which has inherited
the main part of the religiou-s animation and refresh
ment which has come down from that band of or
dained mirUsters of which we are speaking. Besides

.'290 LADY HUNTING-TON.
those already named, and who stand so nearly relat
ed to the present times, in ascending a few years
we reach, without a break, that company of men,
less regular in thefr ministrations, but not less de
serving of affectionate regard, whose names can by
no means be disconnected with Methodism — names
which, so long as the church retains her articles and
homiUes, it would be treason to disown. Let Fletcher
lead the way, and let there come Hervey, Grimshaw,
Berridge, Romaine, Toplady, Walker, and Shirley.
"It may be granted, that the rise of Methodism
brings to view many instances of what may be caUed
independent origination ; and it is true, that the minds
of men who were unknown to each other, became
about the same time simUarly affected towards the
fii'st truths of the Christian system ; so that, when
accident or sympathy had brought them into contact,
they readily coalesced, and thenceforward thought it
their duty and happiness to act in concert. So act
ing and so associating. Lady Huntington gathered
them around herself ; and she aided, and to some ex
tent, she dfrected their movements.
"As with Wesley, so with Lady Huntington, a
formal separation from the established church was, in
each act and instance, submitted to with extreme
reluctance, and not untU it was felt to be inevitable.
When at length the frregularities of the awakened
clergy could no longer be winked at by the church
authorities, the greater number of them fell back in
their places as parish ministers ; and this defection,
while it gave rise necessarUy to a new order of min-

HARVEST-HOME. 291
isters in the 'connection,' whose ordination placed
them on a level only with the dissenting ministry, it
took place at a time when no alternative was left to
Lady Huntington's congregations, but to seek protec
tion under the Toleration act as dissenters.
"Lady Huntington was always the object of a
warm personal affection with those who were nearest
to her. With them, it was always 'our dear Lady
Huntington ;' and putting out of view formal eulo
gies, it is unquestionable, that if she governed her
connection as having a right to rule it, her style and
behavior, like Wesley's, indicated the purest motives,
and the most entfre simplicity of purpose. This, in
truth, may be said to be a common characteristic of
the founders of Methodism : a devotedness to the ser
vice of the Saviour Christ, which none who saw or
conversed with them could question.
" The same praise and in the same degree is un
doubtedly the due of many of those who were the
associates and coUeagues of these principal persons. It
is as bright a company that we have before us,, as we
find anywhere on the page of Christian history."
One of the most interesting aspects of this great
awakening, to us, is the family likeness which exists
among the true chUdren of God ; and this is one of
the old truths which sometimes break upon us with
new favor and beauty, and which we indeed often
need to be reminded of. In our company have been
Dissenters, Episcopalians, CongregationaUsts, Meth
odists, Arminians, Cal-vinists, by various names are

292 LADY HUNTINGTON.
they known among men, yet aU bearing the image of
their common Lord, and possessing the characteris
tics which mark them a "pecuUar people," the true
"Israel of God." Hero aU that was subordinate and
local was set aside, all inferior considerations were
swallowed up in the one grand and absorbing object,
to live in and to labor for thefr Redeemer and Lord,
Jesus Christ. "I am the Lord's," was the animat
ing principle of thefr lives, not only lifting them above
the ordinary discouragements and indulgences of life,
but carrying them through labors and self-denial and
opposition, in the pursuit of a spiritual and unseen
good, with a steadfastness of purpose that never fal
tered, and a zeal that knew no abatement. And it
not only endowed them with the spfrit of conquest,
it imbued them also with aU the spfrit of love, a true,
hearty, cordial, self-forgetting love, for one another — a
love which knew no sect, demanded no certificates,
and was bounded by no state lines. By this, might
it have been emphaticaUy said, did all men recognize
the Lord's disciples, in that they "loved one another."
The old world and the new felt the fraternal tie, and
"kissed each other."
"When shall the Lord's people again live this fresh
and glorious life ? When shaU the cloven tongues of
another Pentecost speak the wonderful works of God ?
Shall not our hearts' desfre and prayer to God be for
a new baptism of the Holy Ghost ?

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