BX8495.S87H64 1830 
 
 HoUand, John, 1794-1872. 
 
 Memoirs of the life and ministry of the Re^ 
 
 John Summerlield, A.M. : lale a preacher : 
 
 connexion with the Metiiodist Episcopal C 
 
 America / 
 
Digitized by tine Internet Arcliive 
 in 2014 
 
 https://arcliive.org/details/memoirsoflifeminOOholl_0 
 
f 
 
MEMOIRS 
 
 OF 
 
 THE LIFE AND MINISTRY 
 
 FTHE 
 
 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD, A. M. 
 
 LATE A FREACBER IN CONNEXION WITH THE METHODIST 
 EPISCOPAI. CHtlRCH IN AMERICA. 
 
 / 
 
 BY JOHN HOLLAND. 
 
 WITH AN 
 
 INTRODUCTORY LETTER 
 
 BY JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 " The life of my much esteemed friend, the late Rev. John Summerfield, ia a suWecf u, 
 which, according to my judgement, the Church of Christ is much interested." Bishop 
 M'Kendrte. 
 
 " Summerfield was a meet devoted and eloquent man." Dr. Raffles. 
 " A fervent, fearleee, eelfaacrificing preacher, the delight of wondering, weepiof, and 
 admiring audiences, wherever he went.'' Montgomtry. 
 
 THIRD EDITION. 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 PRINTED FOR JONATHAN LEAVITT, NO. 182 BROADWAY. 
 
 BOSTON : 
 
 CROCKER & BREWSTER, 47 WASHINGTON STREET, 
 
 BT WILLIAM A. MERCEIN, NO. 93 GOID-STREET. N. Y. 
 
 ( General Agent fw the Work.) 
 
 1830. 
 
Southern District of New-York, se. 
 
 Be it remembered, That on the 29th dajr of May, A. D. 1829, in the 
 fifty -third year of the Independence of the United States of America, Jambs 
 Blackstock, of the said District, hath deposited in this oflBce the title of 
 a book, the right whereof he claims as proprietor, in the words following, 
 to wit : — 
 
 " Memoirs of the Life and Ministry of the Rev. John Summer- 
 field, A. M. late a preacher in connexion with the Methodist Episcopal 
 Church, in America. By John Holland. With an introductory letter, by 
 James Montgomery. ' The life of my much esteemed friend, the late Rev. 
 John Summerfield, is a subject in which, according to my judgement, the 
 Church of Christ is much interested.' Bish^ M'Kendree. — 'Sum- 
 merfield was a most devoted and eloquent man.' Dr. Raffles. — ' A fer- 
 vent, fearless, self-sacrificing preacher, the delight of wondering, weeping, 
 and admiring audiences, wherever he went.' Montgomery." 
 
 In conformity to the act of Congress of the United States, entitled, " An 
 Act for the encouragement of Learning, by securing the copies of Maps, 
 Charts, and Books, to the authors and proprietors of such copies, during 
 the time therein mentioned." And also to an act, entitled, " An Act, sup- 
 plementary to an Act, entitled, an Act for the encouragement of Learning, 
 by securing the copies of Maps, Charts, and Books, to the authors and 
 proprietors of such copies, during the times therein mentioned, and ex- 
 tending the benefits thereof to the arts of designing, engraving, and etch- 
 ing historical and other prints." 
 
 ^ FRED. J. BETTS, 
 
 Clerk of the Southern District of New- York. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 There is no species of religious composition which forms 
 a more interesting hne of contact between the church and 
 the world, than judicious memoirs of departed saints. It 
 is generally, therefore, no less a pious duty than a sacred 
 pleasure, on the part of members of a christian commvmi- 
 ty, to collect and pubhsh the reminiscences of those holy 
 men who have hved and died in the faith of the gospel. 
 
 The memorials of such persons are, when compiled 
 with prudence and fidehty, generally well calculated to il- 
 lustrate the important and interesting truth, that, whUe on 
 the one hand, the exercise of a true faith in Jesus Christ, 
 produces uniformly the same results— so far as that the 
 grand principles of every professor's hfe and testimony may 
 be tried by the express rules of the word of God ; on the 
 other hand, they shew in their subordinate phenomena, 
 how true is the intimation of the same scriptural authority, 
 that the same spirit which is the hfe of all chr istians alike, 
 operates nevertheless with great diversity of gifts in each. 
 
4 PREFACE. 
 
 Whether the interesting individual, whose story is nar- 
 rated in the ensuing pages, should be regarded as merely a 
 distinguished ornament in a class of preachers of the gos- 
 pel with which our age has been pecuharly favoured, or 
 whether, to a certain extent, he ought not rather to be con- 
 sidered sui generis, are questions which, if important at 
 all, will most likely be satisfactorily answered in the pro- 
 gress of this work. One thing, however, is certain, that 
 talents, which procured for their possessor such distinction 
 in England, Ireland, France, and especially in America, 
 must have been, at the lowest estimate, of no ordinary 
 description : and when it is recollected that these talents 
 were aU consecrated and exercised in the noblest of all 
 services — the services of the Redeemer, by one, whose 
 praise was in aU the churches where his name was known ; 
 a spirit of laudable curiosity is excited, even among those 
 who never saw him, to know something of the.personal 
 history of such an individual ; — while those who have 
 known him face to face in the flesh, and can testify of his 
 holy life and conversation, are justly loath to suffer so vir- 
 tuous an example of christian excellence to pass away, 
 without some fitting memorial. 
 
 It is highly creditable to the relatives of the late Mr. 
 Summerfield, that they should have taken such pains in 
 collecting the requisite materials for a biographical account. 
 
PREFACE. 5 
 
 Indeed, so ample, consecutive, and satisfactory were the 
 docmnents accumulated with reference to this object, that 
 with the aid of such voluminous and authentic vouchers, 
 it became a question of comparatively Uttle importance 
 ichere the work should be written. The competency of the 
 individual who might happen to be entrusted with the 
 execution of this design, was confessedly a consideration of 
 greater importance. There is therefore much justness in 
 the following extract from a letter on this subject, which 
 was addressed by Bishop M'Kendree to Mr. Blackstock at 
 New -York; — the bishop, it is right to add, was in favour of 
 an American biographer : — 
 
 "Baltimore, July 5, 1826. 
 
 "Dear Sir, 
 
 " In comphance with your request relative to the Life 
 of your brother-in-law, and my much esteemed friend, 
 the late Rev. Jolin Summerfield I would say, it is a sub- 
 ject in which, according to my judgement, the church of 
 Christ is much interested ; and that it is very desirable 
 that his true character should be faithfully delineated in 
 his Life. You have in possession, most of the materials 
 for this valuable work, and it is with you to select a biog- 
 rapher, and have liis hfe written ; and wliile his beloved 
 relatives may derive pecuniary benefit therefrom, thou- 
 sands of liis christian friends, in common with his relations, 
 
8 PREFACE. 
 
 will long enjoy the benefit of his example, as a christian 
 and a minister. 
 
 " But such are the pecuUarities of Ms character, that 
 very much depends on the choice of his biographer. Mr. 
 Summerfield was bom in England, converted and com- 
 menced his ministerial career in Ireland, and finished his 
 exalted course in America. 
 
 " His literary quaUfications, connected with his know- 
 ledge of divinity, and attahiments in experimental rehgion, 
 laised him above the character of ordinary ministers. 
 
 "His sensibihty was refined, his manners chaste, his 
 performances pohshed with graces peculiar to himself 
 
 " To dehneate the character of such a minister, the wri- 
 ter of his life should not only possess suitable quahfications 
 as an author, but he should be of the same religious senti- 
 ments ; and be able, in some good degi'ee, to accompany him 
 in his researches and christian experience. He should be 
 intimately acquainted with him in his social and private 
 actions — his writings, his views, and his situation. He 
 should be a sympathizing friend, as well as a discriminating 
 judge. Such friends, Mr. Summerfield no doubt had, in 
 England, Ireland, and America." 
 
PREFACE. 1 
 
 Having before me, and on such high authority, the Ust 
 of rare requirements just enumerated, it may well be ex- 
 pected, either that I should assiune their possession, or give 
 some other reason why I appear in my present character. 
 
 Four years having nearly elapsed since the death of 
 ftli-. Summerfield, and the execution of a Memoir- having 
 been so long delayed by providential cucumstances, a com- 
 munication through the Rev. Doctor Townley, of London, 
 the origmaUy anticipated biographer, was made to my ex- 
 cellent friend, Mi-. Montgomery, of Sheffield ; a gentleman 
 ahnost as generally known and esteemed, wherever the Eng- 
 lish language is spoken, as certainly well qualified to have 
 undertaken this work. Toward the project itself, he was 
 well enough affected, as offering an appropriate exercise for 
 that pecuhar combination of talent and piety by which he 
 is so justly characterized. Other pressing engagements, 
 however, compelling Mr. Montgomery to decline the task, 
 he, voluntarily, indeed, without my knowledge, at the 
 time, recormnended me to the friends of the deceased, in 
 such a manner, as to secure theii- confidence, by making 
 himself, in some sort, responsible for a satisfactory result. 
 
 Under these cucumstances, it became my duty to com- 
 ply \vith the proposals ; and enjoying, as I have long had 
 the happiness to do, the most unreserved intimacy with 
 
8 PREFACE. 
 
 the beloved poet ..abovenamed, the papers were not only 
 transmitted through liis hands to my own, but his ingenu- 
 ous opinions upon their contents so far famiharly commu- 
 nicated, as very greatly to facihtate my progress, and, at 
 the same time, increase my confidence of success in the 
 composition of this work. The Memok being completed, 
 I placed the MS. in Mr. Montgomery's hands, accompanied 
 with the following note : — 
 
 « Sheffield Park, March 20th, 1829. 
 
 Dear Sir, 
 
 " Having xmdertaken, at your instance, to write this 
 Life of Summerfield, and as such recommendation has, in 
 some sort, committed your character in my success or 
 failure, I feel it no less a bounden duty than a high plea- 
 sure to submit to your perusal the accompanying MS. As 
 the papers out of which the authorities and illustrations of 
 this piece of biography have been mainly drawn, passed 
 through your hands, I should undoubtedly regard it as a 
 great satisfaction to be allowed to identify my declaration 
 with your testimony, that the materials alluded to have 
 been legitimately, would I might add, fully and judicious- 
 ly, appropriated. Ifi thus seeking the expression of your 
 candid judgement, I confess that I am much less soUcitous 
 of imphcating your generous approbation of a work, 
 which must, after all, stand or fall, according to its intrin- 
 
PREFACE. 9 
 
 sic value, than I am ambitious of accompanying these 
 pages to America, with some recognition on your part, of 
 the existence of that friendship, the enjoyment of which 
 I must ever regard as the highest earthly felicity of my 
 life. 
 
 " I remain, dear sir, yours, very affectionately, 
 "JOHN HOLLAND." 
 
 . In a few days afterwards, I received from Mi'. Mont- 
 gomery's own hand, the manuscript, and enclosed there- 
 with, the following gratifying letter, which I am allowed 
 to publish, and which might, perhaps, of itself, have formed 
 the best and only necessary preface to these Memoirs. 
 
 " To Mr. John Holland. 
 " Dear Friend, 
 " When I named you to the relatives of the late Rev. 
 John Summerfield, as a proper person to prepare a memoir 
 of that minister extraordinary of the gospel, I was per- 
 fectly aware of the responsibility which I thereby incurred ; 
 but I was also so well satisfied with respect to your quaU- 
 fications, that 1 gladly trusted my credit on your perform- 
 ance of the task. I now thank you sincerely for having, 
 most promptly and effectually, redeemed the pledge which 
 I laid down for you. Without binding myself to subscribe 
 
 implicitly to every sentiment, or to approve of every form 
 2 
 
10 PREFACE. 
 
 of expression in it, I can say, after an attentive pemsal of 
 the manuscript, that according to my best judgement, you 
 have done justice to the subject, honour to yourself, and 
 service to the Church on earth, by presenting one trophy 
 more of the power of the rehgion of Jesus — out of weak- 
 ness to perfect strength, and by mstmments such as God 
 alone could liiake, and such as He alone would use, to work 
 miracles of mercy in converting sinners from the error of 
 their ways, saving souls from death, and covering a mul- 
 titude of sins. 
 
 " You know, that before I put the multifarious materials 
 for the intended work into your hands, I had diligently ex- 
 amined the whole, both for my own satisfaction, and that 
 I might be prepared lo afford you any counsel or assistance 
 in my power, which you might require, in the prosecution 
 of your interesting but by no means easy labours. I con- 
 fess now, that, while my willing persuasion of the ardent 
 piety, the remarkable gifts, and the amazing influence of 
 the preaching of this young apostle upon hearers of all 
 classes, was abundantly confirmed as I proceeded, — my 
 sense of the difficulty of exhibiting a portrait of the de- 
 ceased, nearly corresponding with the recollections of the 
 living minister, in the hearts of affectionate kindred and 
 friends, but especially of giving to those who knew him 
 not. ail idea which should justify, in their esteem, the 
 
PREFACE. 1 1 
 
 praises that have been lavished upon him, — my sense of 
 the difficulty of doing this was greatly increased as I went 
 along, and found among his remains few traces of lofty 
 intellect, powerful imagination, or touching pathos ; such 
 as would naturally be expected in the productions of a 
 youth so early and enthusiastically followed and applaud- 
 ed. But the bulk of these, being mere journals of daily 
 incidents, often very minute, — and of heart-experience, 
 never coloured either imder or above present feeling, the 
 whole intended for liis own eye only, and noted down 
 under the eye of his Master, as though the nmning title 
 of his pages had been, 'Thou, God, seest me,' — the absence 
 of aH curious and elaborate composition, is a test of the 
 genuineness of the records themselves, and rather to the 
 credit than the disparagement of his genius. 
 
 '•' In his sermons, however, something of the character 
 of elegant Uteratme might be required, and would be in 
 place ; because the utter inartificiaUty which, in his memo- 
 r<dnlia of hourly occurrences, was a merit, would have 
 been a defect here. Accordingly I went with critical 
 scrutiny, through nearly two himdred sketches of these, 
 in his own hand-writing ; and I give it as my deUberate 
 conviction, that though they were very unlike what I had 
 anticipated from a fervent, fearless, self-sacrificing preacher, 
 the deUght of wondering, weeping, and admirmg audiences, 
 
12 PREFACE. 
 
 wherever he went, — they were, in one main respect, far 
 superior ; being calculated less for instant effect, than for 
 abiding useftdness. Though but studies, they are never- 
 theless exceedingly methodical in plan ; and in execution, 
 they are distmguished chiefly by soimd doctrine, exact 
 judgement, and severe abstinence from ornament. Such 
 ornament, however, as does occur, is often exquisite ; and 
 from being occasionally interpolated (as after thoughts) 1 
 caimot doubt that, in uttering these condensed com- 
 positions at spontaneous length, illustrations the most 
 lively and beautiful sprang in hke manner out of the sub- 
 ject, when the preacher himself was full to overflowing; 
 yet filling the faster the more he overflowed. 
 
 " And this was the right kind of preparation, for one 
 who always had toords at command, but whose feelings 
 commanded him. He came to the pulpit, with the whole 
 scheme of his discourse clearly and succinctly marked 
 out in his mind. Then, when he was indeed 'in the 
 spirit,' — warmed, exalted, and inspired with the divinity 
 of his theme, the chain of premeditated ideas, link by Unk, 
 in seemingly extemporaneous succession, would be develo- 
 ped ; while every thought, emotion, and appeal, would body 
 itself forth in the most vivid and appropriate language. 
 Then, truly, would his bow abide m strength, and every shaft 
 which he sent fi om the string,— Uke the arrow of Aceste?, 
 
PREFACE. 13 
 
 of old, would take fire in its flight, shine through the 
 clouds, and vanish in the immensity of heaven. ( Virg. 
 ."En. lib. V. 525—8.) 
 
 " But as the sabbath and the sanctuary were the day 
 and the place of resurrection, when his closet skeletons, 
 thus clothed upon, became Uving, breathing, speaking 
 oracles, — the retrogression into their original forms would 
 be proportionately to the preacher's disadvantage. Hearers^ 
 who had been rapt towards the third heaven in the fiery 
 chariot of his dehvery, and almost seemed to hear ' things 
 which it was not lawful for man to utter,' — when they 
 aften^-ards became readers at home of the few, faint out- 
 lines, however symmetrical and harmonious, would scarcely 
 recognise their shadowy resemblance to the glorious appa- 
 ritions which had gone by, — never to be renewed except 
 with the presence, the eye, and the voice of the preacher 
 iiimself. In fact, every attempt to present on paper the 
 splendid effects of impassioned eloquence, is like gathering 
 up dew drops, which appear jewels and pearls on the 
 grass, but rim to water in the hand ; the essence and the 
 elements remain, but the grace, the sparkle, and the form 
 are gone. 
 
 But Summerfield's memory needs no monument of 
 his handywork to endear and perpetuate it ; nor is it any 
 
 B 
 
14 PREFACE. 
 
 derogation from his talents, to say, that he has left no 
 posthumous proofs of their power, to divide with his Maker 
 the glory of what God was pleased to do by him, in the 
 faithful exercise of them. Brief indeed was his career, 
 but briQiant and triumphant. Like one of the racers, in 
 that ancient game, wherein he who ran with the greatest 
 speed, carrying a blazing torch unextinguished to the goal, 
 was crowned as victor, — he so ran that he soon obtained 
 the prize ; and his light, not extinct even in death, but 
 borne again in your hand, my dear friend, along the same 
 path, while you retrace the Lord's dealings with him, 
 through his swift and shining covirse — shall be a guide, a 
 comfort, and an example to thousands, who never witnessed 
 its living coruscations. 
 
 " I do now, therefore, not less heartily recommend your 
 little volume, — the more precious, because it is a httle one, 
 — to the Christian pubhc, as worthy of their acceptance, 
 than on the former occasion, I conscientiously recommended 
 yourself to the esteemed relatives of the deceased, as wor- 
 thy to be his biographer. 
 
 " I am, faithfully and affectionately, 
 your friend, 
 
 «J. MONTGOMERY." 
 
 Sheffield, March 30, 1829. 
 
MEMOIRS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 REV. JOHX SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 SECTIOJV I. 
 
 Mr. Summerfield's parentage, birth, and education— goes 
 to reside at lAverpool — remarkable dream. 
 
 Although accounts of the peurentage of a saint of the 
 most high, unless connected with some very pecuhar cir- 
 cumstances, axe generaJly uninteresting, yet it may not be 
 improper, in the instance before us, to record the following 
 brief particulars. 
 
 WiUiam Summerfield, the father of that excellent 
 minister, the particulars of whose life I am about to nar- 
 rate, was born in Devonshire, April 12, 1770 ; his parents 
 soon afterwards removed to Leeds in Yorkshire, where 
 they had bom to them, four other sons, and one daughter. 
 WiUiam, the eldest boy, was, at an early period of his life, 
 
16 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 engaged as a millwright, at the works of Sir Thomas 
 Blackett, of Bretton HaU, near Wakefield, Yorkshire. 
 Wliile in this situation, he became acquainted with Miss 
 Ameha Depledge, who, at the period m question, hved in 
 the same neighbourhood. In a short time they were mar- 
 ried ; and resided thenceforward about two years near 
 Bretton. They then removed to Manchester, where Mr. 
 Summerfield was engaged, during a residence of about 
 four years, as foreman to a considerable machine manufac- 
 tory in the Salford division of that town. 
 
 Here, an event occurred, of infinite importance to him- 
 self, and doubtless, in the issue, to many others, who sub- 
 sequently came within the sphere of his influence, which, 
 from the natvnal vigour of his mind, was far from being 
 inconsiderable. He began to attend the preaching of the 
 Wesleyan Methodists ; joined the society, and in a short 
 time experienced a scriptural conversion ; which he attri- 
 buted, mediately, to impressions received under the preach- 
 ing of the Rev. Joseph Benson, at that time stationed in 
 Manchester. This great religious change, is said to have 
 taken place when Mr. Summerfield was about twenty-one 
 years of age. From that period, he became a zealous 
 disciple of his divine Lord and Master, and continued to 
 evince the ardour and sincerity of his rehgious profession 
 to the end of his Ufe — a Ufe which was chequered with 
 more than an ordinary share of trials and vicissitudes, 
 chiefly arising from disappointments, but the minuter 
 details of which would be here entirely out of place. 
 
RET. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 17 
 
 It may, however, be observed, without impropriety, that 
 WUham Summerfield was one of those men, whose san- 
 guine temperaments, and projecting minds, are more hkely 
 to lead them to engage in plausible speculations, than to 
 incline them to advance their fortunes by the slow process 
 of uninventive assiduity. I^ancashire was at this time 
 exhibiting the earUer effects of that daring spirit of me- 
 chanical enterprise, which has almost, as it were by the 
 power of machinery, transplanted successful experimental- 
 ists from the poverty of paupers into the opulence of 
 princes. Few men of persevering genius and common 
 industry, could witness what was then taking place around 
 them, without thinking that they might, and perhaps in- 
 deed without feeling that they ought to, attempt the 
 achievement of some such envied distinction. 
 
 After remaining some time with his employers in Man 
 Chester, WilUam Summerfield removed, with his family 
 to Preston, about 1 797. Here, he commenced business a: 
 an engineer and ironfounder, with every prospect of rism^' 
 to opulence. He was highly respected by all who knew 
 him, both as a tradesman, and as a member of the Metho 
 dist Society ; in connexion with which body he now actec 
 as a local preacher : he was, indeed, particularly distin 
 guished for the hveliness of his faith, his continuing instant 
 in prayer, and an almost imexampled spirit of self-denial. 
 
 After experiencing various reverses of fortune, arising, 
 partly from the common casualties of business, and partly 
 b2 3 
 
18 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 from being outwitted by partners, his affairs, at a time when 
 he had reason to think himself wealthy, became deranged ; 
 so that on the breaking up of an estabUshment and con- 
 nexion, upon which he had reasonably, but mistakenly, re- 
 posed his all, he left Preston, and after residing about two 
 years in Buislem, Staffordshire, and a sliort time in Liver- 
 pool, went to Ireland in 1812, where he successively filled 
 situations of trust in Dublin and Cork. After a few years, 
 he emigrated, with his family, to New- York, in the United 
 States of America, where his eldest daughter had been 
 some time settled, with her husband, Mr. Blackstock, a 
 respectable cotton-broker in that city. In the house of this 
 exemplary son-in-law, where he had long found a home ; 
 and soothed by the affectionate attention of all his sur- 
 viving childi'en, he expired, the victim of a Aiolent dyseiv 
 tery, Sept. 19th, 1825, aged 55. As his life had been 
 characterized by eminent religious profession, so his death 
 was not only satisfactory, but in the estimation of his 
 friends, one of the most triumphant ever witnessed. His 
 sufferings, during the last twelve hours, were exceedingly 
 acute ; but in the midst of these most trying moments, his 
 faith faltered not— he cried out, " I have an unshaken 
 confidence." His frame of mind for several days before his 
 death, was happy beyond description — bringing, in the 
 expressive phrase of his attendants, " heaven upon earth !" 
 A few nights previous to his departure, liis daughter Ame- 
 lia was awoke by his talking aloud in his sleep, as with 
 his beloved son, John, the subject of this memoir. Be- 
 ing interrogated on the subject, he repUed, John and he 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 19 
 
 had " much to do together." To the foregoing testimony, 
 the writer of these peiges has the gratification of being 
 enabled to add, that when he visited Preston in 1828, he 
 did not converse with a single individual, who did not accord 
 a prompt acknowledgement of the reUgious character and 
 moral worth of their former friend and townsman. 
 
 Of the personal accomplislunents, and christian experi- 
 ence, of his mother, I am unable to speak, beyond the 
 general fact that she was a pious woman. She died in 
 Liverpool, whither she had removed for the benefit of her 
 health, on the 9th of August, 1811 ; leaving with her 
 friends a gratifjing assurance that in her departure from this 
 Ufe she was gone to that Jesus whom her soul loved. Her 
 remains lie bmied in St. Pavd's church yard, in that town. 
 
 WiUiam and Ameha Summerfield were the parents of 
 nine children ; five sons, and four daughters ; — three of 
 whom died in their infancy. 
 
 John, the subject of these memoirs, was bom in his 
 father's house, at Preston, in Lancashire, January 31st,. 
 179S. Previously to the birth of this child, his father has 
 frequently been heard to say, that there was nothing that 
 he desued more in early life, than that he should have a 
 son ; that that son should be a minister of the gospel ; and 
 that his name should be called John. And truly, as he 
 and liis wife, hke Zacharias and EUsabeth of old, " were 
 both righteous before God, walking in all the command- 
 
20 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 ments and ordinances of the Lord blameless," so likewise, 
 his prayer was heard — a man-child was born ; and his 
 father, in the spirit of the venerable priest of Jerusalem, 
 " praised God" that he had given him a son. And it is 
 worthy of remark, that at the time of the birth of the 
 babe, his father solemnly dedicated him to the work of the 
 ministry. How far, when, in after life, "he was filled with 
 the Holy Ghost," he imitated his apostolic namesake, in 
 " preaching the baptism of repentance for the remission of 
 sins," as he resembled him in being dedicated to the Lord 
 " even from the womb," the history of his ministerial hfe 
 must testify. 
 
 John was an exceedingly interesting and amiable child. 
 At five years of age he was sent to school, where he had 
 not been twelve months, before he was accounted the best 
 reader ; and his mistress was so proud of him, that she 
 frequently pointed to him as an example for the other 
 children to imitate. He was much caressed and compli- 
 mented by strangers as well as friends ; and his manners 
 were so pleasing that they always attracted attention : 
 yet he was not in the slightest degree a spoiled child : for 
 however much indulged, it appeared to have no bad effect 
 upon him. He was so remarkably sensitive, that he could 
 not bear to see his brothers or sisters corrected. 
 
 When about six years old, he was sent with his sister, 
 aged about eight, to a pious Methodist lady, who kept a 
 school in the neighbourhood of Blackpool, about twenty 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 21 
 
 miles from home ; this was the first time they had been 
 separated from their parents, and was the occasion of much 
 distress to his sister : but John, who had not only a happy 
 method of restraining his own feeUngs, but likewise of 
 administering comfort to others, addressed her in a style 
 rather of manly than juvenile consolation. " EUen," he 
 would say, when his sister began to weep, — "Ellen, I 
 really am astonished at you ; you know that our father 
 sent us here for our good ; but if you fret and grieve so, 
 you will make yourself ill ; and then you won't be able to 
 learn any thing. And think how sorry my mother would 
 feel, and how disappointed she would be, if she were to 
 know. You ought to be more of a woman ; besides, Mrs. 
 Campbell would be displeased, should she see you." Such 
 were the reasonings of the child, whose engaging maimers 
 made him ahnost the idol of the family : and when Mrs. 
 C. was at prayer, he would clasp his Uttle hands, and de- 
 voutly respond " Amen !" 
 
 On leaving Mrs. C, with whom he had made considera- 
 ble progress, he was placed imder the care of Mr. Berry, an 
 approved master in Preston : for him he entertained a very 
 high regard, although he was extremely rigid. Mr. B. 
 pronounced him, on entering the school, the best giam- 
 marian he had ever met with, for his years. Here he 
 held a most respectable rank in the various classes ; though 
 it was remarked that he hardly studied at all, during the 
 intervals of school hours. At this period, he was exces 
 sively fond of play ; indeed, he was so entirely devoted to 
 
22 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 recreation, that from the tune he left school, generally about 
 5 o'clock in the afternoon, he rarely opened his books, 
 imtil within about half an hour of school-time in the 
 morning, when he would begin to make preparation. His 
 manner of committing liis tasks to memory, in so short a 
 time, was somewhat singulax : — he would lay himself 
 down in the cradle, and with his feet over the sides, would 
 set it a-going at full swing ; he would then apply himself 
 to his lessons with the greatest eagerness ; after he had 
 gone over them a few times in this way, he would spring 
 up, and hasten to school, reciting, as he went, the tasks he 
 was expected to repeat. His mother would frequently tell 
 him, that she was afraid to see or hear from Mr. Berry, who 
 might have a bad accoimt to give of him, as he was so 
 negligent Vvith regard to his studies. The accounts, how- 
 ever, received of him, were most gratifying; and his 
 teachers declared, that such was his aptitude for learning, 
 that he cost them very Uttle trouble. 
 
 This towardness of disposition was so satisfactory to 
 his father, that he was determined to spare no expense in 
 giving him a good education. With a wise regard to the 
 value of rehgious instruction in connexion with scholastic 
 discipline, he was sent to the celebrated seminary at Fair- 
 field, an extensive Moravian establishment, about four 
 miles from Manchester. The master of the school at that 
 period, was the Rev. C. F. Ramftler, who was likewise the 
 resident minister ; under this gentleman, young Sunmier- 
 field not only made considerable progress in the classics. 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 23 
 
 and other branches of education, but received those rehgious 
 impressions, which it is probable were never wholly obUte- 
 rated from hie conscience. In this school, too, he was 
 generally beloved ; and was especially a favourite with the 
 Moravian Bishop Moore, then residing at Fairfield. This 
 venerable prelate used to have dehght in hearing the £imia- 
 ble t)T:o recite rehgious pieces in prose and verse : this 
 distinction was carried so far, that he was even selected to 
 give these recitations in the chapel, a practice which, as it 
 has not been repeated, shows, at least, the estimation in 
 which he was held by the worthy superiors in that estab- 
 lishment. He remained in this deUghtful retreat nearly 
 five years, when he was abruptly taken away in conse- 
 quence of his father's misfortunes, in December, 1809. 
 
 During the vacations of Midsummer and Christmas, up 
 10 this period, when he returned home, his company was 
 sought, and he was caressed by the heads of several of 
 the first famUies in the neighbourhood of Burslem ; being 
 treated more hke an equal than a mere boy, by those of 
 his seniors, who held him up as an example for youth, 
 much older than himself, to emulate. His memory was 
 remarkably tenacious, and this, in connexion with his 
 powers for recitation, before alluded to, rendered him a very 
 desirable companion, with his fund of entertaining pieces, 
 grave as well as humorous. 
 
 The following anecdote, as it exhibits the fdial piety, 
 and precocious talents of this interesting boy, may be ap- 
 
24 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 propriately introduced here. — In the year 1810, at the 
 time when Mr. Wilham Summerfield's embarrassments 
 were extremely distressing, and the nature of which led 
 to the emplo)rment of John in various ways, a thought 
 struck the intelligent lad, that it was possible for him so 
 to redeem a portion of his time, as to enable him to open 
 a night school. With him, even at this early age, to de- 
 vise and to execute were the same : the attempt was 
 made ; the school was opened ; and many young men, 
 twice as old as himself, presented themselves, so that he 
 had soon more apphcations than he could receive. The 
 school was continued until his removal to Liverpool, when 
 he parted with his pupils, amid their sincere regrets. It 
 is worthy of remark, that the proceeds of this school 
 were religiously handed over to his mother. 
 
 At this period, he seems to have cherished that spark of 
 rehgious feeling, and to have maintained the distinctness 
 of those divine impressions, of which he had been tlie 
 subject at Fairfield. It was, moreover, his practice to spend 
 much time (his friends say " whole weeks") in retirement, 
 for the purposes of study and meditation ; exhibiting 
 herein, a faint and juvenile emulation of the holy conduct 
 of the celebrated non-conformist divine, Isaac Ambrose, 
 once the minister of Preston, and whose custom it was, 
 once a year, to retire into a hut, in a neighbouring w ood, 
 and there spend a month in rehgious contemplation. 
 
 As already stated, Mrs. Summerfield died in 1811. 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 2o 
 
 Jolin, then in his thirteenth year, accompanied this beloved 
 parent to Liverpool, whither she had gone for the benefit 
 of the sea air ; and he was the only child that was with 
 her during the last four months of her illness. The cu- 
 cumstance of her death pecuharly impressed his mind, 
 and he often dwelt upon the subject — especially in after 
 life, when he hardly ever spoke of the glorified throng in 
 heaven, without naming his mother. This wealthy, 
 interesting, and thiiving town, which had afforded a grave 
 to his mother, now became the residence of her son ; and 
 here, before he was fifteen years old, he filled the situation 
 of ck^rk in a mercantile establishment, being principally 
 employed in managing a French correspondence, the prin- 
 cipal being himself unacquainted with the foreign lan- 
 ffuages. He was an excellent book-keeper and account- 
 ant, and was prized and retained in this situation until the 
 failure of the house. 
 
 It was about tliis tune, that young Suimnerfield had a 
 remarkable ^ream, to which he has fi-equently been known 
 to advert in after life ; it is however mentioned here, not as 
 otherwise important, than as showing, with perhaps the 
 ordinary exaggeration arising from the effect of sleep, the 
 tenor and tendency of his waking thoughts. One night, 
 after he had been some time in bed, his sister was alarmed 
 by an uncommon noise which he made ; at this time, he 
 was subject to the cramp ; but contrary to expectation, 
 when his sister entered his room, he was fast asleep, yet 
 appeared very restless, and his countenance was much 
 c 4 
 
26 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 agitated. She awoke him, and inquired what was the 
 matter ; he repHed, " did I disturb you ? It was not the 
 cramp : I'll tell you, Ellen, all about it, in the morning." 
 The next day, he was very anxious to know every parti- 
 cular relative to the disturbance wliich had caused the 
 alarm. " Ah !" said he, " it was a terrifying dream ! 
 when I made that noise, and exhibited that^truggle, I 
 thought Satan had laid hold upon me." — Said he, "I found 
 a beaten track, in which great numbers of persons were 
 walking ; I therefore resolved to mingle with the crowd, 
 and ascertain the meaning of all this. After some time, 
 I discovered what I took to be the termination of my wan- 
 derings, yet I could not see any particular object of attrac- 
 tion, although many appeared to be worshipping some- 
 thing which I could not perceive : however, on a nearer 
 approach, I found the object of adoration to be no other 
 than Satan himself, surrounded by a prostrate multitude. 
 I immediately looked rovind, for some way by which I 
 might escape, determining that / would not bend the knee : 
 I at last discovered a narrow and winding stairway, the 
 ascent of which was very high and steep, yet I was re- 
 solved to ascend, although I had to pass by Satan to reach 
 the stairs. I mounted with great rapidity ; the windings 
 became more and more difficult, and my course was much 
 impeded ; with breathless anxiety, I took one look back, 
 and finding I was pursued, and almost within the very 
 grasp of the enemy, 1 made one desperate effort, by whicli 
 I escaped, and immediately awoke." 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 27 
 
 No part of his correspondence with liis family, or others, 
 at this period, has been preserved — at least, none has 
 been forthcoming. In the absence, however, of such do- 
 cumentary evidence as his own letters, it is certain that he 
 indulged, to the utmost of his means, that thirst for infor- 
 mation, by which he had always been distingxiished, 
 especially a taste for oratory, which, having been implanted 
 with his early habits, he sought every opportunity of 
 gratifying, by hearing the best speakers, whether in the 
 pulpit, at the bar, or even in popular assemblies : amongst 
 the former, the Rev. Thomas Spencer, whose popularity 
 was at that time the ascendant attraction in Liverpool, ap- 
 pears to have been one of the chief pulpit favourites 
 of our young aspirant 
 
28 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 SECTIOIf II. 
 
 Removal to Dublirir— falls into dissipated habits — occasional 
 contrition — correspondence loith Dr. Raffles — thinks of eU' 
 tering the ministry among the dissenters — goes into business 
 '-afresh irregularities — attends the courts of law. 
 
 Towards the latter end of the year 1812, Mr. Sum- 
 merfield removed, \vith Ms family, to Dublin. On their 
 settlement in that city, John evinced no disposition to pur- 
 sue any kind of business or profession. It is somewhat 
 remarkable that his associates, from this time, until he 
 became religious in the true sense of the term, were 
 generally persons from 10 to 20 years older than himself : 
 indeed, he had no companions in youth of his own age ; 
 and one of the most extraordinary features in his charac- 
 ter, consisted in the. fluency and abihty with which he 
 could converse on subjects, seldom attended to by one 
 of his years. At 15 he seemed to possess the experience 
 of a person advanced in hfe ; an uncommon knowledge of 
 human nature, and the rare talent of describing whatever 
 he had heard, or seen, in the most interesting manner. 
 
 These qualities, with a large fund of anecdote, and a 
 rare facetiousness, together witli a disposition the most ac- 
 coirunodating, probably, however, conduced to his chief 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERPIELD. 
 
 29 
 
 misfortunes. His warm heart, which was truly formed 
 for friendship, could rarely withstand the fervour of soUci- 
 tation. So ready was he to serve his friends, that he would 
 frequently, for acts of kindness towards others, perform 
 acts of indiscretion toward himself, which as frequently 
 led him into difficulties. 
 
 His extreme sensibility was such, that a plaintive appeal 
 was generally irresistible ; it would call forth all his ener- 
 gies ; and sometimes he has had the mortification to dis- 
 cover, that his kindness had been, at least, ill timed, and fre- 
 quently, as just intimated, accompanied by serious disad- 
 vantage to himself. To turn a deaf ear to the complaints 
 of the distressed, was quite out of the question with John 
 Summerfield ; if his time, or his talents, were in requisi- 
 tion, they were bestowed with an ardour bordering on 
 enthusiasm : was pecuniary assistance required 1 it was 
 never withheld, if in his power to communicate. On one 
 of these occasions, he was called upon by a petitioner in 
 distress ; but alas ! his means were exhausted ; — after a 
 moment's deliberation, he left the person, requesting him 
 to wait till his return : going home, he found ihe silver 
 spoons laid upon the dmner table ; these he removed, toge- 
 ther with what tea spoons he coidd collect, presented the 
 whole to the person in distress, whom he had knowTi when 
 in affluent circumstances, as an individual by whom his 
 father had lost considerable sums of money. 
 
 The company with whom he at this time mingled, 
 c2 
 
30 
 
 MEMOIRS OP THE 
 
 caused him to be much from home, spending his time sit 
 the theatre, the billiard room, or the card table; most 
 frequently the latter. This infatuating species of vice 
 so captivated his mind, that by practice, he became quite 
 an adept, and was led on by degrees, to emulate the more 
 adventurous by playing a high game. It may well be con- 
 ceived that these irregularities were sources of indescriba- 
 ble anguish to liis father and family, who frequently 
 laboured under the most dreadful apprehensions, not 
 knowing where such things might end. 
 
 Remorse of conscience always followed a season of dis- 
 sipation : and then his sufferings were almost beyond en- 
 durance. On these occasions, he would remain closeted 
 for weeks together, engaged, not only in his studies, whicli 
 were intense, but in daily lamenting, \vith heart-rending 
 fervour, liis transgressions ; seven times a day, has he been 
 known to prostrate himself with his face to the ground, im- 
 ploring the divine forgiveness for his manifold sins ! His 
 distress of mind, on account of disobedience to liis parent, 
 was often almost more than he could bear. It was during 
 these lucid intervals of compunction and penitence, that 
 his father's bruised hopes of ultimately seeing his son a 
 minister of the gospel, used to revive ; and had he not 
 been a man of uncommonly strong faith, there were cu- 
 cumstances existing at this period abundantly sufficient to 
 have disheartened hun — indeed, to have destroyed the con- 
 fidence of most other men : yet he rejnained firm in the 
 
REV. JOHN StTMMERFIELD. 31 
 
 belief that his prayers would be answered concerning his 
 son. 
 
 It has already been stated, that young Summerfield, 
 while in Liverpool, was an occasional attendant on the 
 ministry of the Rev. Thomas Spencer. On the publication 
 of the Rev. Thomas RafBes's interestuig " Life of Spencer," 
 a copy of the work was sent, by a friend, to our young 
 prodigal m Dublin ; — he read it with great interest ; and 
 feehng his heart yearn towards the sacred profession, and 
 experiencing at the same time a strong desire to return to 
 England, he resolved to open a correspondence with the 
 author, in the hope of obtaining admission into the academy 
 of the Dissenters at Hoxton. Through the kindness of 
 Dr. Raffles, the first letter on this subject, in the autograph 
 of Summerfield, hes before me : — 
 
 " Dublin, Grand Canal Dock, 
 
 Hanover Quay, Jan. 7, 1814. 
 
 " Reverend Sir, 
 "I am at length induced by the repeated sohcitations 
 of a few of my more particular friends, to address you 
 upon a subject, which, of all others, is the most weighty. 
 
 My name is utterly unknown to you, as well as my 
 person ; though I am well acquainted with both these in 
 yourself. 
 
 " From my earliest infancy, I have had it in contempla- 
 
32 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 tion to become an ambassador for Christ ; and of late, this 
 has been kindled in me to a degree, so as not to leave a 
 doubt in my mind, but that ni)' prayers to God to open my 
 way, are now answering. The other week, a friend sent 
 me your 'Life of Spencer,' from Liverpool: and I have read 
 it with such deUght, that it has tended more than any 
 thing to increase the spark already kindling. I am but 
 18* years of age, not yet quite accomphshed, and my 
 youth would be the chief hinderance to my resolution 
 of addressing you, had not my friends encouraged me to 
 write you freely, being so perfectly satisfied of your 
 christian temper and candour, that if you gave me nothing 
 to hope in my application, it would not be taken amiss. 
 
 " As this is the first communication, (though I trust it 
 may be suffered to be continued, — yet being uncertain, 
 and the event in embryo,) I do not write fuUy, any farther 
 than to say, that the tenets professed by the church of 
 which you are the present supporter and guide, do most 
 coincide with my ideas and belief in the revelation of God 
 by his Son. — I have had a very liberal education ; having 
 been brought up at Fairfield academy, near Manchester, 
 among that worthy people, the Moravians ; and my father, 
 having apparently intended me for the church, spared no 
 expense to render my education fit for the purpose. But 
 as I cannot give my mmd to that church, for many rea- 
 
 * Sic in oriff.—hnt it is certainly a slip of the pen— it should 
 be 16. 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 33 
 
 sons, I would be more willing to list under the banners of 
 your church ; though God knows, it is in effect the same 
 as theirs, being aU warriors for Christ. I enclose this in a 
 letter to my friends in Liverpool, to be forwarded to you, 
 being ignorant of your address. 
 
 " You will see how to address me, at the head of this ; 
 and I would entreat your answer, if so much of your pre- 
 cious time can be devoted to answer so unworthy a ser- 
 vant ; but though unworthy, not the more unwelcome. 
 
 " I would wish to begin my race early, run it with joy, 
 and end it with glory. 
 
 " This commimication is with my father's approbation, 
 — a gentleman in moderate circumstances, whose highest 
 wish it is to see his son settled in his course. 
 
 " Believe me, Reverend Sir, 
 *' yours, most respectfully and devotedly, 
 
 J. SUMMERFIELD." 
 The Reverend Thomas Raffles, Liverpool. 
 
 The following letter, apparently in reply to the fore- 
 going, was written, as will be seen from the date, about 
 three months after it — there had probably, however, been 
 an intermediate communication : — 
 
 " Liverpool, March 28th, 1814. 
 " Do not imagine, my dear sir, that because I have not 
 5 
 
34 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 been so quick as you might wish, and as I have desired to 
 be, in m)^ reply to your communication, in which you 
 stated so much at length your feelings and your views, 
 that I have forgotten you, or that I take no interest in your 
 affairs. The fadt is, that 1 have been Avaiting for a favour- 
 able opportunity of writuig you pretty much at length, but 
 owdng to the extreme press of ofl&cial business, I have not 
 been able. 
 
 " You can form no conception of the labom-s of a Pas- 
 tor, who has two thousand souls committed to liis care. 
 Even now, I steal half an hour from rest, for the purpose 
 of comnnming with my friends ; and I cannot prevail upon 
 myself to retire, though exliausted nature demands repose, 
 till I have, by a few lines, reheved the anxiety of your 
 mind. 
 
 " I have been out of town, mto "Wales, which is the 
 cause of my not having answered yam letter tUl now. I 
 am very happy now to find that you have a design to 
 visit Liverpool ; I can talk to you upon the interesting sub- 
 ject of oxix correspondence, and say more to you, and hear 
 more from you, in one hour, than could transpire in twenty 
 letters. 
 
 " Have you friends in Liverpool ? I am sorry that I 
 have no house to invite you to. I am but a bachelor, and 
 consequently a lodger. I hope you will come either before 
 or after the month of May, as during that month I expect 
 
RF.V. JOHN SUMMP.RFIELD. 35 
 
 to be in London. I should rather it was after May, as in 
 the ensuing month, 1 have no less than three joumies to 
 make, by which, of course, my time will be very much 
 consumed — besides much other business which will absorb 
 my whole attention. 
 
 " I "should like, when you are here, to enjoy much of your 
 society; and this, at present, I fear I should not be able to 
 do. I forbear, in the prospect of an interview, which your 
 letter promises, to enter now into any further particulars 
 respecting yoiur views of the ministry — and praying you 
 to maintain a spirit of self-examination, watchfulness, and 
 diUgence, with best respects to yovir friends, 
 " yours, very faithfully, 
 
 "THOMAS RAFFLES." 
 
 The two foregoing letters are given entire, because they 
 constitute the material evidence of a very interesting move- 
 ment in the mind — and the soUcitation for an arrangement, 
 which, had it taken place, might have been of the last 
 importance ui the hfe of Summerfield. Upon the proba- 
 ble issue of events, had the desire he then felt been con- 
 summated, it would now be, at least, idle to speculate. 
 One question, however, naturally suggests itself, and which 
 it will be neither difficult nor improper to settle — namely, 
 whether the negotiations alluded to, were terminated 
 ^'oluntarUy or othervsnse on the part of the petitioner. 
 "Whatever other letters might be written on this subject — 
 and others undoubtedly there were — the two above cited 
 
36 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 are obviously the first and the last that passed between 
 the parties; and whether or not the inteimediate ones 
 contained any more distinct overtures from either side, 
 cannot be ascertained. If it should be thought that Mr. 
 Raffles's communication holds out but little encouragement 
 to the youthful appUcant ; and that the stretching forth a 
 little further the hand of ministerial affection, might have 
 brought a valuable recruit into the ranks of the Dissenter;? ; 
 — it must, at the same time, be recollected, that Mr. Sum- 
 merfield's solicitation, although signed with liis name, and 
 to a certain extent accredited, was virtually anonymous : 
 and for the pastor of a large church, thus to be expected 
 promptly to extend his patronage, in a matter of so much 
 deUcacy, to an entire stranger, was in the abstract unrea- 
 sonable. Besides, mider these circumstances, the lan- 
 guage of courtesy, and the proposal of an interview on 
 the part of Mr. RalBes, fairly entitle his conduct herein, to 
 ihe character of that of dehcate and judicious encourage- 
 ment. Thus much is plainly deducible fiom the document 
 alone ; and if there was no other evidence, the legitimate 
 inference would be, either that Siunmerfield retracted from 
 discouragement, or that he changed his mind. His ovrn 
 testimony, from a letter, WTitten after his conversion, to a 
 rehgious friend, appears to settle the question. Speaking 
 of the sanguine hopes he once entertained in prospect of 
 this settlement, — he adds : — " Filial duty, however, pre- 
 vented, on my father's remonstrance, which arose from the 
 doctrines taught by many of that body, as to election, &c. ; 
 consequently I gave up the idea." Few persons, at all 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 37 
 
 acquainted with either the father or the son, would doubt 
 theu- sincerity in this reason : fewer still, it may be pre- 
 sumed, of those who witnessed Summerfield's fall into new 
 dissipations, would rejoice that they should have prevailed. 
 At the same time, many things, not necessary to be specified 
 here, must have been attended to before he could have been 
 admitted into a Dissenter's Academy. He evidently had 
 not the reUgious experience reqiiired of candidates, wliat- 
 ever his doctrinal notions might have been. 
 
 Notwithstanding all the agony which he occasionally 
 felt for his past misconduct; and his frequent intervals of 
 resolution and reform, he was repeatedly tempted into 
 courses of dissipation. He became extravagantly fond of 
 theatrical amusements ; and having no regular employ- 
 ment, he delighted in attending whole days in the courts 
 of justice, and in visiting pubhc institutions. He would 
 leave home for weeks together, visiting London and other 
 places, with the view of gaining information — his family 
 sometimes having no idea where he was. As already 
 intimated, his admiration of oratory was excessive : and 
 he would lose no opportunity of hearing eminent speakers. 
 It was all one to him, whether they were to be found in 
 the pulpit, at the bar, in the senate, or on the stage. When 
 necessity compelled him to return home, he would shut 
 himself up in his chamber ; and during these fits of seclu- 
 sion, such was his thirst for knowledge, that he made a 
 point of rising at 4 o'clock in the morning 5 after which 
 
 D 
 
38 
 
 MEMOIRS OP THE 
 
 he freqtuntly remained at Ids studies, without interruption 
 until 8 o'clock in the evening, taking, during the interme- 
 diate sixteen hours, only two or three cups of coffee I 
 
 This irregulEir and intense application, was, without 
 doubt, seriously injurious to his constitution ; and he had 
 at times a very emaciated appearance, arising from mental 
 labour, close confinement, and great distress of mind, on 
 account of his past misconduct. 
 
 Young as he was, his father now began to feel a wish 
 to establish him in some business — and selected, very 
 unpromisingly, as most persons wiU think, the Coal 
 Trade. In this imgenial concern, he was associated with 
 another individual, more experienced than himself. Pros- 
 pects of profit had no influence with Summerfield, to 
 induce his certainly elegant mind to accommodate itself to 
 the language of the wharf, or calculations by the chaldron. 
 Instead, therefore, of being found at the quay, or in the 
 counting house, he gave his attention to neither, but would 
 shut himself up in his study, or absent himself from home 
 altogether. Such misconduct was followed by its natural 
 consequences. The unsettled kind of life which he still 
 continued to lead, frequently incurred his father's displea- 
 sure ; and this conduct was aggravated, by his promises 
 of reform, which were not more frequently made than 
 they were broken, so that his derelictions became intolera- 
 ble. This total neglect of business, and the concomitant 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 39 
 
 money losses, led him to the exercise of a facile, and but 
 too often practised an expedient, for the relief of his present 
 difficulties : he was induced to indorse paper acceptances, 
 for those whom he conceived to be his friends. This in- 
 volved him in responsibilities, which he could not meet, 
 and not only brought poverty and distress into his 
 family, but ultimate ruin upon himself. — As the cUmax 
 of his degradation, he was thrown into the Marshalsea of 
 Dubhn. 
 
 Here a new theatre for the exercise of his ingenuity 
 was presented ; having a tolerable stock of legal know- 
 ledge, he employed himself for his fellows in confinement, 
 in drawing up the necessary memorials for those who were 
 seeking their enlargement under the provisions of the In- 
 solvent act. Whatever an attorney could do in this 
 respect, was easy to Sunamerfield ; and the cases which 
 he imdertook to manage, being generally successful, his 
 practice in this way became considerable, and continued 
 even after his own liberation. His necessities compelled 
 him to make a regular charge, so that he derived firom 
 this source a considerable income. In drawing up a peti- 
 tion, on any subject, he had acquired a facility that was 
 astonishing : he would commence, and continue to the 
 end of the document, ahnost without a moment's hesita- 
 tion, and rarely with a single interlineation. In this re- 
 spect, he was singularly gifted, as his letters and other 
 compositions evince ; for seldom had he occasion to alter 
 
40 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 or erase a word ; and it may be added, that, in after life 
 especially, he wrote a neat and elegant hand, with great 
 rapidity and evenness. 
 
 Under these ' circumstances, it is not sui-prising that he 
 should have felt a strong inclination towards the study of the 
 law. At the age of sixteen, as before stated, he was wont 
 to spend days together in the courts in Dubhn, where he 
 has frequently heard causes tried from beginning to end, as 
 well for murder, as for other crimes. After attending to 
 the testimony of the various witnesses, with as much 
 anxiety as if he were engaged as counsel, he would 
 closely estimate all the bearings of the case, and with 
 boyish enthusiasm, has been heard to say, " O, how I 
 shoulc Uke to sum up !" 
 
 On one occasion, he was in attendance before one of 
 the courts of justice, in DubUn, as an important witness 
 against a person who was seeking to take the benefit of 
 the Insolvent Act. He was examined, and most rigidly 
 cross-examined by an eminent lawyer ; but to puzzle 
 him appeared impossible : he was able to recollect, without 
 any memoranda, the dates of a vast number of pay- 
 ments and receipts, sales and purchases — pounds, shil- 
 lings, and pence, with such exactness that it astonished 
 the whole court. On this occasion, the judge paid him 
 a high compliment : " Pray sir," said his lordship, "what 
 is your profession 1" — " I am in no profession, my Lord," 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 41 
 
 answered Summerfield. " No profession, no "profession, 
 Sir ?" — " No, my Lord." The judge then said something 
 to the following effect : — " Well, sir, I have never heard a 
 witness within the walls of these courts, give his testimony 
 in a more clear, correct, and satisfactory maimer, them you 
 have done. Depend upon it, you'll one day or other be a 
 shining character in the world." 
 d2 6 
 
42 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 His conversion — attends prayer-meetings — verses to the Rev. 
 P. and Mrs. French — interesting letter to his class-leader. 
 
 The shrewd and generous prediction of the Irish judge, 
 just cited, was destined to be fulfilled within a few months 
 after it was uttered — though certainly in the way least 
 anticipated by the legal prophet. Summerfield was now 
 nineteen years of age, the last four of which had been 
 spent in the desultory manner already noticed. The time, 
 however, was now approaching, when the Lord was about 
 to give the distressed and praymg father to see the fulfil- 
 ment of his most anxious desires, in the conversion of his 
 son — and moreover, in seeing a double portion, even of the 
 spirit of a prophet, rest upon liim. This great gospel 
 change, it will be seen, was not effected by any slow or 
 uncertain process ; much less, under such circumstances 
 as to leave it, for sometime, a doubtful case, whether or 
 not his new character might originate in the mere reforma- 
 tion of sentiment and manners. His conversion, indeed, 
 was at once signal and scriptural, and in its proximate 
 circumstances little agreeing with the notions of those, 
 who, as he used to remark, fancied " that John Summer- 
 field would hi^ve been converted like a gentleman !" 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 43 
 
 In the year 1817, he was brought to reflect seriously on 
 his past hfe, and on the conduct he was then pursuing. 
 He saw clearly that he was the cause of the distress to 
 which his father was reduced ; and his own prospects in 
 life appeared at the same time awftdly gloomy : these 
 reflections had a dreadftd efiect upon his mind, and he 
 experienced lashings of conscience too terrible for endu- 
 rance. Instead of seeking or finding reUef in prayer, he 
 felt himself a reprobate before God, and was more than 
 once tempted to commit suicide. He found no resting 
 place, amidst the " mire and clay" into which Satan had 
 brought his feet, and saw no escape from the " horrible 
 pit" of his own despair. 
 
 In tliis state of mental agony, he was one day wander- 
 ing about in the streets of Dublin, weeping bitterly, when 
 he was noticed and accosted by a pious man, by trade an 
 edge-tool maker, who, with the tact of a Methodist, and 
 the simplicity of a saint, ascertained his state, and endea- 
 voured to comfort him — at the same time inviting him to 
 his house, or rather to his cellar, where he was about to 
 hold a prayer meeting. The party assembled, consisted 
 chiefly of soldiers from the barracks : prayer was offered 
 by the diflferent persons in turn, and the case of the provi- 
 dential interloper, was specially presented before Him, 
 with whom " the effectual fervent prayer of a righteous 
 man availeth much ;" and such was the fervour of the 
 good leader, and the soldiers, and so sincere the contrition 
 
44 MEMOIRS OP THE 
 
 and supplication of the penitent, that he that very night 
 found peace to his soul. 
 
 Having found such a blessing amongst these poor sol- 
 diers, he became much attached to them, and resolved, if 
 possible, to make them some return of kindness, for what 
 they had done for him. On inquiry, he ascertained that 
 theii- situation at the barracks was by no means comforta- 
 ble, being perpetually ridiculed and insulted by wicked 
 men in the regiment. Hearing this, he was determined 
 to reUeve them if possible, — for on his visits, he found 
 them equally as bad as described — utterers of profane 
 sarcasms, and revilers of all reUgion. In resolving, how- 
 ever, to do what he could, towards changing the characters 
 of these men, he hit upon an expedient which, however 
 successful in his case, is of too perilous a nature to be ad- 
 duced for imitation. He commenced his work of reforma- 
 tion by relating such stories and anecdotes, as he knew 
 would please them, endeavouring by every means to make 
 his company agreeable to them. In this he succeeded ; 
 and in time, as his visits became frequent and acceptable, 
 he began to check their swearing, and other improper 
 language. He would even occasionally condescend to 
 assist them in little matters, as pipe-claying their belts, &c. 
 At length, he so far gained their respect, and established 
 his own influence, that no improper language was ever 
 allowed, or used in his presence ; and if any thing wrong 
 happened to be going on at the time of his visit, the moment 
 that he entered the yard, some one would give the signal 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 45 
 
 — " He s coming !'' and presently all became order and 
 reg^llarity. He next got them to attend to reading the 
 biblC; held regular prayer meetings among them, and ex- 
 horted them to seek the Lord. The number of serious 
 persons among the soldiers increased daily, and his plan 
 prospered more and more, untU, to his great regret, the 
 regiment was removed. 
 
 He now felt at a loss for a proper sphere for the exercise 
 of his zeal ; at length, he bethought himself of the Old 
 Men^s Hospital, which he visited repeatedly, but with Uttle 
 success, as he found the inmates, (to use his own phrase,) 
 " too tough for any impression that he could make and 
 he was often heard to say, in consequence of his experi- 
 ence here, that " a man turned fifty, would hardly be con- 
 verted." 
 
 His first class-leader was the pious Patrick French, who, 
 at the latter end of 1817, left Dublin, as a Missionary to 
 the West Indies. This gentleman presently discovered 
 the sterling piety, and promising talents, of the young 
 convert ; and before his departure from Ireland, he waited 
 upon one of the preachers to commend the stranger to his 
 particular notice. " Brother Lamb," said he, " I am going 
 from you, perhaps never to return ; remember now my 
 last request ; — take particvdar care of brother Summer- 
 field : make him known to all your brethren, and he will 
 one day shine in the world, and in the church of God." 
 
46 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 From Ml-. French, whom he used to call his spirittud 
 father, he had received many kindnesses, and that, too, 
 at a time, when the attentions of a christian friend were 
 most necessary and acceptable. On hearing of the mis- 
 sionary appointment of his esteemed leader, Mr. Summer- 
 field addressed to him the following note and accompanying 
 lines : — 
 
 " Dear Sir, 
 
 " Permit me to send you the enclosed stanzas, which 
 occurred to me as 1 lay in bed this morning, and which I 
 immediately copied ; not that they contain any of those 
 beauties for which the poetic muse is so much beloved, 
 but they will convey a faint idea of the esteem in which 
 you will ever be held in the breast of 
 
 " AN UNWORTHY CLASS-MEMBER. 
 
 5th JVovember, 1817. 
 
 Verses, written extempore, on the occasion of Mr. French's 
 going on a Foreign JiMssion, by a member of his class. 
 
 I. 
 
 And must we, then, for ever ! ever ! part. 
 And tear asunder each from other's heart ! 
 And must we bid a long, a last farewell ! 
 No more to meet, till call'd by judgement's knell ! 
 
 That knell which shall announce the death of time ! 
 
 And sound eternity with solemn chime ! 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 n. 
 
 And must / Tvander in earth's doleful shade. 
 Without the solace of my Frenches aid ! 
 And must my throbbing heart e'er pine with grief, 
 The loss of him, who brought its sure relief! 
 
 Relief ! which he could draw from Heaven's store. 
 
 Which more abounded, while he drew the more ! 
 
 IIT. 
 
 And must / walk the heavenly road alone, 
 Without the company of French, when gone ! 
 How can my infant feet support the load, 
 The cross which daily they must bring to God ! 
 Without thy friendly aid to guide the way, 
 And charm me with the views of heavenly day ! 
 
 IV. 
 
 Well may'st thou mock, oh pen ! thy muse's fire '. 
 Well may'st refuse, oh tongue! to aid my Ijtc I 
 Nor that can write, nor this can e'er express, 
 My heart-felt pangs : for language ne'er can dress 
 Thy grief, oh soul ! tho' she explode her mine, 
 To search the richest, and the most sublime ! 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 V. 
 
 But kindred spirits, kindred love can feel ! 
 Pure love ! and warm, which never can congeal ! 
 And thou, oh French ! dost know my meaning well. 
 Although my simple pen refuse to tell 
 
 The poignant sorrow which pervades my soul. 
 
 At losing thee, my better half, my whole ! 
 
 VT. 
 
 Yet cease, my muse, to sigh, to weep, to moan ; — 
 
 My heavenly Father calls ! — His will be done ! 
 
 Obedient French, how ready is thy pace ! 
 
 How eager thou, to run the heavenly race ! 
 Oh ! may my feet be always firmly shod. 
 With every virtue which can lead to God ! 
 
 VII. 
 
 And hark ! — methinks a voice now strikes my ear — 
 " Oh ! faithless Jacob ! what hast thou to fear ! 
 " Though mother leave the ofTsprmg of her womb, 
 " I ne'er will leave thee till I land thee home ! 
 " If ravens, when they cry, are fed by me, 
 " Shall I not feed, and much more care for thee ! 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 49 
 
 VIII. 
 
 " My servant I have call'd to other toil ; 
 
 " I've plants to nourish in a foreign soil ; 
 
 " Which need a more than foster-father's care, 
 
 " But which, with his, will full perfection bear. 
 
 " Didst thou but know how much one soul is worth, 
 " Thou woiild'st not murmur that I send him forth. 
 
 IX. 
 
 " Ev'n India's naked sons lift up their eyes, 
 " And I have heard their deep and bitter cries '. 
 " To dry their tears, I raised my servant up, 
 ■' And for sin's gall, to give salvation's cup ! 
 " That so, the glorious crown for him prepared, 
 "May shine with lustre bright, as iiis reward !" 
 
 X. 
 
 Amen ! my Lord ! I bow with solemn awe ! 
 
 'Tis not for me to alter Heaven's high law ; 
 
 Take then thy servant ! and, like moisten'd mould, 
 
 Seal him thyself, for thine eternal fold ! 
 Till worlds on worlds revolving roll away, 
 And thou shin'st forth in one eternal day ! 
 
 Amen, 
 
50 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 Under the same date he addressed the following vale- 
 dictory memento to Mrs. French : — 
 
 " Dear Madam, 
 
 " AUow me to send you the inclosed little tribute of 
 my affection and esteem. I know it is unworthy of your 
 acceptance ; but if it cause you the smallest gratification, 
 or cheer any of those moments which the idea of bidding 
 adieu to your native home, must necessarily render sullen 
 and clouded, my ambition will have attained the pinnacle 
 of its wishes. 
 
 " Believe me, dear madam, 
 
 " yours, very affectionately, 
 
 Bth J^OV. 1817. " A CLASS COMPANION." 
 
 ACROSTICK. 
 
 S ister, I call thee in my rhyme ; 
 
 I know no other name of thine, 
 
 S o let me be forgiven ;— 
 
 T hough soon we leave each other here, 
 
 E ternity is very near ! 
 
 R esolve to meet in heaven ! 
 
 F arewell ! my throbbing heart would say ; 
 
 R emember me when far away, 
 
 E v'n, morn, and noon, at mercy's throne ; 
 
 N or fear that I'll forgetful be ; 
 
 C onstantly I'll remember thee ; 
 
 H eaven is our mutual home ! 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 51 
 
 F arewell !— ray lips refuse to say : — 
 
 A Imighty Father ! guide their way, 
 
 R ide with them on the storm ! — 
 
 E ach blessing that thy stores contain, 
 
 W ith heaven itself, oh ! let them gain ! 
 
 E ach good, in every form ! — 
 
 L ord ! be their guide with special care ! 
 
 L ord ! may they all thy blessings share ! 
 
 Amen ! 
 
 The foregoing lines, regarded simply with reference to 
 the sentiments, are not deficient in those quaUties for which 
 all liis compositions were distinguished — good sense, good 
 feeling, and good taste : as poetry, they merit slight praise. 
 It is however no disparagement to have succeeded but in- 
 differently, where even practised preachers have rarely 
 done better. John and Charles Wesley, and one or two 
 of their contemporaries, have written hymns of unsurpass- 
 able merit, and deserved celebrity ; but their successors m 
 the muiistry, however eloquent in discourse, or fervent in 
 prayer, have generally become impotent, the moment they 
 have invoked the muse ; and it is a remarkable fact, that 
 though they have contributed their full share to the stock 
 of amateur poetry, there is not (so far as I am aware) one 
 popular piece of verse, written by a methodist preacher. 
 Summerfield, however, ought not here to be defrauded of 
 the higher praise, of having ever afterward (with perhaps 
 a single exception) let alone " the unprofitable art of verse- 
 making," in favour of the more sacred duty of preaching 
 t lie everlasting gospel. Nor let it be supposed, that this arose 
 
52 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 from any deficiency in the perception of poetical beauty, 
 hut rather tlie reverse ; it was once remarked by a very 
 eloquent and popular preacher in New- York, that he never, 
 in his hfe, heard a man who could read poetry, except one 
 — and that was Mr. Summerfield. 
 
 The following extracts from a letter addressed by Mr. 
 Summerfield to his friend and class-leader, the aforenamed 
 Rev. P. Frencli, wiU be read with great interest. The 
 writer's well known characteristics of memory, veracity, 
 and candour, are vouchers for the authenticity of a narra- 
 tive, to which providence has given a peculiar interest, and 
 which exhibits certain deUcate autobiographical touches, 
 which, in the estimation of its present copyist, ought to 
 be sacredly preserved. 
 
 " Dublin, Lower Mount-Street, 
 
 Mv. 24th, 1817. 
 
 " My very dear Sir, 
 
 " Although you kindly promised to favour me with 
 a letter from Lom'.on, at your convenience, yet my anxiety 
 to have tliis pleasure fulfilled, will not suffer me to wait, 
 without putting you in mind of this your promise, and 
 requesting that you would hasten that communication for 
 which I am so anxious. I should be quite discouraged 
 from attempting to write to you at this time, when I sup- 
 pose every moment is engaged in concerns of so weighty 
 a nature ; and with this idea, it gives me some pam to 
 tliink that 1 am trespassing upon any portion of that, 
 
REV. JOHN SU.M.MERFIELD. 53 
 
 which must be so very valuable to you ; but when I view 
 you ill the light of my dearest parent, in which capacity 
 you have not only been pleased to consider yourself by 
 words, but much more by your actions, I should be want- 
 ing in that dutiful respect which I owe you, were T to per- 
 mit any consideration to prevent my paying my respects 
 to you, as I am bound to do by duty, but much more by 
 love. Hoping, therefore, for your kind pardon for this 
 hasty liberty, I presume to unbosom my mind to you in a 
 manner which baslifulness would not suffer me to do, when 
 I had the happiness of j-our presence hero. 
 
 " I cannot sufficiently lament that I had not the delight 
 of your acquaintance at a much earlier period of time 
 than I have had ; for had I been so fortunate, I should 
 have been prevented from fighting against what I now see 
 to be the manifest openings of that kind Providence, who 
 says, ' your name is graven on the palms of my hands,' 
 who therefore marks out all our goings, if w^e will but 
 follow his dictates. 
 
 " Such was the short duration of our acquaintance, that 
 1 do not even know, whether you knew that I was the 
 son of a person, with whom you had, I believe, been very 
 intimate, as brethren in Christ, for a long time : for my 
 father was for a considerable time a member of the Stran- 
 . gcrs' Friend Society in Dublin, and on terms of affectionate 
 intimacy with you. 
 
 7 
 
54 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 " However, as the loss I have sustained in my spiiitual 
 state, for want of an earher connexion, cannot now be 
 recovered, I wish at this time to lay before you, a very 
 short account of the deahngs of Providence with me, and 
 to request you wiU give me such paternal advice as you 
 may see I so much need : but as this can only be done 
 when you have a moment of leisure time, let me not 
 intrude myself on you till that offers itself 
 
 " I often think, that the dealings of Ahnighty God have 
 been more various towards me, than with persons much 
 more advanced in life. 
 
 " I shall have cause to bless ihe Lord, through all the 
 ages of eternity, that I was born of religious parents, — 
 my father being for many years a leader and local preacher 
 in the Methodist connexion, and for some time a steward, 
 until we removed from Preston to Staffordshire. As I was 
 his eldest son, it was his particular wish that I should have 
 the best of educations, as he always designed me for a 
 profession. With this view, after being sent to the best 
 preparatory schools, I was put among the Moravians, or 
 United Brethren, at Fairfield, near Manchester, where I 
 remained nearly five years. About the close of this time, 
 my father received a call from the Almighty, to preach the 
 everlasting gospel on the itinerant plan. At this time, he 
 was very extensively engaged in business in Lancashire, 
 and estimated worth 10,000Z. ; he had just completed the 
 building of a commodious house for our family in Preston : 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 55 
 
 and was prospering in worldly concerns, as much as any 
 reasonable person could desire. 
 
 His heart being alive to God, and his cause, he dared 
 not resist the will of his great master, and prepared to qxiit 
 Ids business, and hang upon Providence for liis future life. 
 For this pui-pose, he accepted the offer of a gentleman from 
 Liverpool, to become partner with him in his business, 
 which my father was the more willing to do, as it was his 
 intention to quit his business gradually, by disposing of 
 all he had to this his then partner. But before he could 
 get this accomplished, he found that he had misplaced his 
 choice, as the person with whom he had associated him- 
 self, though to all appearance a gentleman of the first 
 respectability, though a worldly man, — was involved in a 
 mass of debt, from which it was impossible for him to ex- 
 tricate himself. In this situation, my father became hable 
 for these debts as his partner ; and in order to prevent 
 worse consequences, he was advised to assign over all his 
 property of every nature and kind, to this person, upon 
 the promise that he should receive a fail- recompense for it. 
 My father had but two choices, either to do this, or be torn 
 in pieces for these debts, which might be more than the 
 amount of all that my lather was then worth. This per- 
 son, however, never fulfilled any part of his agreement ; 
 and my father, by repeated delays and disappointments, 
 gave up the idea of following that call, wliich he has ever 
 smce confessed it was his duty to do. It seemed as if Pro- 
 vidence had prepared his way, by cutting off at one 
 
56 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 stroke, every worldly affair, and by now refusing that call, 
 which he had promised to accept, the judgements of God 
 have ever since hung heavy upon him. He has often 
 engaged in worldly matters since ; he has amassed wealth 
 since that time, • but the Almighty never suffered it to 
 remam with him : he has lost thousands of pounds in 
 such ways as ahnost seemed miraculous, and he now 
 attributes it entirely to this one act. Though he now 
 enjoys the favour of God, and even his sanctifying love in 
 a great degree, — yet he always mourns this one action of 
 his life, and has frequently told me, in sincerity and truth, 
 that the Almighty has clearly shown him that this was 
 the cause, and always wiU be a cause of temporal chastise- 
 ment. 
 
 " The ways of Providence have been most mysterious 
 to me ; and in order that I may not frustrate the wise 
 designs of Heaven, I will briefly state what I have expe- 
 rienced. 
 
 " From the losses my father sustained, I was taken 
 from school very abruptly, and having engaged in several 
 worldly affairs, I became clerk to a merchant in Liverpool 
 at fourteen years of age, with whom I had a liberal salary, 
 though so very young, owing to my knowledge of the 
 French language, of which my master knew nothing. 
 Few, so young, had such fine worldly prospects as I had ; 
 but in a short time, it pleased Providence to thwart me, 
 by my employer becoming a bankrupt. I then removed 
 
REV, JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 57 
 
 to Ireland with my father, where I had not been long, 
 when I had a strong desire to return to England, having 
 opened a correspondence with the Rev. Mr. Raffles, a 
 Calvinist minister, with a view of obtaining permission to 
 enter their Seminary at Hoxton, to be prepared for the 
 ministry of the gospel, which, if I had done, I should pro- 
 bably now have been a preacher of the everlasting gospel 
 to that people. I poured out my prayers to God ; and if 
 ever I felt power with the Almighty, it was then. I am 
 assured he smiled on me in all I did, and when I had 
 wept before him on the reflection of the awfulness of the 
 work, and my own youth, I have experienced such a sense 
 of his presence and promises of assistance, that I could not 
 for a moment doubt it was his will. 
 
 " From what I experienced at that time, I am convinced 
 that there are as good men in that body of Christians, as 
 in any other, for I was strongly rooted in their opinions, 
 but suffered no diminution in love to God on that accoimt. 
 Since then, the xA.lmighty, in a great measure, withdrew his 
 presence from me ; and when my father directed my pur- 
 suits to worldly objects. He thw^arted me in every under- 
 taking. 
 
 " After being for some time with my father, he put me 
 into the Coal trade, in partnership with another person then 
 in the business. I advanced 500Z., as my capital ; before 
 we had been together three months, my partner behaved 
 to me very dishonestly ; he had my money in his hands, and 
 8 
 
58 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 got himself arrested, and having spent four months in goal, 
 got out under the Insolvent Act. by wliich I lost all my 
 money. 
 
 " In my soberest moments, I cannot account for these 
 different crosses on the scale of human mischances, — as 
 so called ; for I was not devoid of all such prudence as 
 worldly men make use of After this, my father again 
 resolved to coutmue me in ihe business. 
 
 " My prospects for a time began to brighten ; and with 
 my business my acquaintances also encreased, and I was 
 induced by some to accept bills for their accommodation to 
 a large amount, which they were to provide for. My good 
 nature was visited on my own head ; the bills came down 
 on me, and in the midst of my seeming prosperity, I was 
 tluown into prison for those bills which I had accepted. 
 There, the Almighty kept me seven long months, and I was 
 again plunged into poverty. 
 
 " Now, my dearest friend, what shall I do ? I hope that 
 God has completely weaned me from earthly things ; I 
 have not one wish below the sun, but to live to Him. I 
 am determined to submit to his Providence, and to do what- 
 ever he shall unfold to me. 
 
 " A thought occurred to me yesterday, in which T also 
 entreat your advice : I understand that the Messrs. Shaws 
 have taken your establishment ; now if you think they 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 59 
 
 would w ant some person to fill the capacity which you 
 filled, along with Mrs. French, you might write to Mr. 
 Shaw for me. From my knowledge of the French lan- 
 guage, Music, Latin, Greek, <fcc. I might be an acquisi- 
 tion ; not to mention the inferior branches, such as Geog- 
 raphy, History, Astronomy, &c. &c. K it should please 
 God to call me to this situation, I could fill it with honour 
 to myself and them. But I am entirely resigned to God, 
 (o whatever he has for me to do. I often wish that I was 
 in the Stranger's Friend Society, for the Ahnighty might 
 have something for me to do for Him, and I tliink I can 
 never glorify Him sufficiently. Yet, oh, my dear French, 
 I am like a sheep \vithout a shepherd ; I have no one to 
 lead me by the hand ; I am myself a stranger — yet I 
 would fain become a stranger's friend. If I could flatter 
 myself, that I could be in any degree useful, I should never 
 be tired in being spent for God. 
 
 " However, I sit me down, and mourn over my fate — 
 if I may use the word ; and my misfortune in being tore 
 iVom you, at such an early stage of our connexion. You 
 are indeed my father in" Christ ; and whatever glory may 
 redound to my heavenly Father, through any weak efforts 
 of mine, must eventually be attributed to you. — I bless 
 God, my love to Him is daily encreasing, and I am deter- 
 mined, let others do as they will, I will serve the Lord. I 
 hope you are growing more and more to the fulness of the 
 measure of Christ ; and that Mrs. French enjoys a con- 
 tinued sense of the approbation of her great Master. — If I 
 
60 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 never meet you again on earth, I am certain I shall 
 meet you in heaven ; for thither I am resolved to hasten, 
 and I am as certain you will embrace me there. 
 
 " Do not neglect to answer me fuUy. 
 
 " May God have you in his holv keeping, is the earnest 
 prayer of, 
 
 " Dear Sir, 
 " Your unworthy, but affectionate, 
 
 "JOHN SUMMERFIELD!" 
 
 A brief note, bearing date Nov. 29, 1817, addressed 
 by the Rev. P. French to Mr. Summerfield, contains the 
 following exhortation : — " Wait God's appointed time in 
 all circumstances. I wrote to Mr. Shaw about you : he 
 will, I know, do what he can. God is your best friend — 
 trust Him — when you least expect it, his promise wiU be 
 confirmed. Let prayer be your constant exercise. Value 
 the bible as your faithful companion. Rise early in the 
 morning for reading and prayer ; and frequent the ordi- 
 nances." 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 6t 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 Begins to keep a Diary — attends Sunday schools — gives an 
 exhortation — incessantly studies the Holy Scriptures — 
 attends an Irish wake — filial obedience — falls into tempta- 
 tion. 
 
 The preceding sections exhibit a somewhat rapid 
 sketch of Mr. Summerfield's life, from the time of his 
 birth to the twentieth year of his age. Of the remaining 
 portion of his brief but brilliant career, more ample and 
 detailed notices will be expected : happily for the writer 
 and readers of the Memoirs of this most interesting ser- 
 vant of God, his own industry has left materials the most 
 abundant and satisfactory. 
 
 From the time of his conversion, until the period when 
 he could no longer hold a pen — with some interruptions — 
 he kept an exact Diary of his hfe. In projecting this 
 elaborate register of his daily actions and experience, INIr. 
 Summerfield might justly have colioquized with himself 
 in the langueige of the most eloquent and powerful of mo- 
 dem British Essayists.* " The little rill, near the source 
 
 * Foster.— On a man writing Memoirs of Himself. 
 F 
 
62 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 of one of the great American rivers, is an interesting 
 object to the traveller, who is apprized, as he steps across 
 it, or walks a few miles along its bank, that this is the 
 stream which runs so far, and which gradually swells into 
 so immense a flood. So, while I anticipate the endless 
 progress of life, and wonder through what unknown 
 scenes it is to take its course, its past years lose that cha- 
 racter of vanity which would seem to belong to a train of 
 fleeting, perishing moments, and I see them assuming the 
 dignity of a commencing eternity. In them I have begun 
 to be that conscious existence which I am to be through 
 infinite duration : and I feel a strange emotion of curiosity 
 about this little life, in which I am setting out on such a 
 progress ; I cannot be content without an accurate sketch 
 of the windings thus far of a stream which is to bear me 
 on for ever." 
 
 This invaluable document, in a transcript of certified 
 accuracy, now lies before me. It appears, indeed, from an 
 expression in the passage presently to he cited, that this is 
 not the earliest diurnal record which Mr. Summerfield had 
 kept : whether, however, that has been preserved or not, 
 appears uncertain ; it is not among the papers transmitted 
 to the present writer. 
 
 The " Journal," as it is entitled, is thus introduced : 
 — " 1818, January 1st. Thursday — Commenced this year 
 in Whitefriar-street meeting house, on my knees, at the 
 watch-night. 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 63 
 
 I felt the presence of the Lord, and my soul was fed 
 with good things. Oh ! that I may prove faithful this 
 year. I have often dedicated myself to God on a similar 
 occasion, but as often have violated my engagements ; yet 
 tliis year, I am determined, let others do what they will, 
 I will serve the Lord. 
 
 " When I call to mind the mercies of the past year, 
 I am quite lost in contemplating the goodness of God. 
 
 ' Where shcM my wandering soul begin? 
 
 The last year, was truly a year of trial, and great aflSiction 
 to our family, as may be seen in other parts of my former 
 diary. What this year may bring forth, I know not! 
 But oh, my Father ! whatever thou mayest have in reserve 
 for me, in the womb of thy Providence, this year, prepare 
 me for it. Thy will be done ! I am satisfied to pass 
 through poverty, if it is thy will ; only let me be always 
 rich in faith towards thee. If I should be entrusted with 
 temporal riches, may I consider myself as thy steward, to 
 whom I must give an account ; and keep me always poor 
 in spiiit. If this should be a year of sorrow to me, yet 
 may I be enabled always to rejoice in God my Saviour — 
 If a year of joy, yet may I sotrow that I do not love Thee 
 more. I am thine, do with me what thou wilt, only bring 
 me to glory !" 
 
 The following entry, under the same date, refers to an 
 
64 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 engagement which is the more precisely noted here, for a 
 reason which will presently appear : — " 8 o'clock ; after 
 preacliing, was invited by my dear brother, my class com- 
 panion, to come to a prayer-meeting, in Whitefriar's-street, 
 appointed for supplicating a revival of God's work among us 
 this year. — WMe on my knees, an unknown hand tapped 
 me on the shoulder to pray ; it was the first time I ever 
 prayed in pubhc : I began in weakness, but, glory to God ! 
 good was done, and I ended in great power. — The meeting 
 continued till 11 o'clock." 
 
 Three days afterwards, he notices his attendance at the 
 Sunday-school in the forenoon ; and m the afternoon, that 
 he went to arrange " for our new school in Weaver's 
 Hall." In the evening of this first sabbath in the year, 
 he went to Whitefriar's-street meeting house, to hear his 
 " beloved Mr. Wood" preach, and where he " renewed the 
 covenant, with fear and trembUng :" on reaching home, he 
 •vsTote, — " 11 o'clock ; on my way home, I was musmg upon 
 what I had done : saw that I had married myself to 
 Christ, to take him for better and worse, through honour 
 and dishonour ; and I saw the beauty of that passage in 
 the Revelations, ' behold the bridegroom cometh ; and the 
 bride, the lamb's wife, hath made herself ready.' Oh ! may 
 I be pure, and chaste, and spotless, and worthy of this liigh 
 honour. The family were all in bed, and I had a fine 
 opportunity, which I unproved by fervent prayer— my soul 
 was watered abundantly." 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERPIELD. 
 
 65 
 
 The following evening at the class he experienced a 
 still more distinct manifestation of the divine presence and 
 approbation : he says, " though I obscured myself in a 
 dark corner of the meeting, yet God saw me, and I was 
 called upon to pray, though there were many in the meet- 
 ing much more able. I never experienced so much free- 
 dom ; I have reason to beUeve it was owned of God ; 
 three souls were set at hberty — ' from the bondage of their 
 sins.'" At the conclusion of this day, after having 
 prayed three times in pubhc, he exclaims, " where will all 
 this end !" The next day, he was unanimously voted a 
 member of the " Praying Association," which engagement 
 reqviired that he should exercise his gift pubUckly in the 
 chapels, as well as in private houses ; upon receiving his 
 appointment for Cork-street chapel, he repeats the excla- 
 mation, " where will this end I" When the season for his 
 pubUc officiation in the chapel arrived, his apprehension? 
 were disappointed — he not only felt hberty but comfort. 
 This prepared him for the next turn, where, in consequence 
 of the local arrangements, his duty required him to ascend 
 the reading desk : he had never before been so conspicu- 
 ously elevated, and experienced in consequence a good 
 deal of agitation. Having a slight impediment in his 
 epeech. he was apprehensive that he might stammer in 
 giving out the hymn. But he found how true was the 
 divine assurance, " cast j'our care upon me, and I will 
 sustain it •," he felt no hesitation ; and much good was 
 done. 
 
 f2 9 
 
66 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 He next ventured to speak bis experience at a " Fellow 
 ship meeting;" and on the 18th of January, at the instance 
 of liis " dear class companion," he was induced to give a j 
 brief extemporary exhortation at the conclusion of a prayer 
 meeting, held in Sweeney's lane. To use his own words, 
 "I arose with fear and -trembling : it was the first time 
 that ever I exhorted (so formally, he means) in pubUc or 
 private. Glory to God, he was my mouth, and though I 
 feared the impediment in my speech, I found no effect 
 from it — I sang and prayed, and I beUeve good was done." 
 Thus, in the short space of three weeks, this sincere and 
 zealous disciple of the Lord Jesus, graduated from the 
 first public exercise of liis talents in an obscure prayer 
 meeting, to the earUest display of those higher pulpit 
 (luaUfications, for which he became afterwards so pre- 
 eminently distinguished. It is a caise happily illustrative 
 of that peculiarity in the system of Methodism, which 
 provides so admirably for the developement and occupancy 
 of whatever degrees of piety or intelligence may be pos- 
 -sessed by any of its members. 
 
 Many persons will doubtless be inclined to regard this 
 rapid advancement on the part of Mr. Summerfield, eithej 
 as very presumptuous or very precocious. Some of his 
 slower paced contemporaries were not slack in exercising 
 this prerogative : without, however, the sUghtest disposition 
 to impute improper motives to these inquisitors, it is grati- 
 fying to know that the subject of them was not only not 
 offended, but that he evinced at once his growth in grace 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 67 
 
 as well as in gifts, by the spirit and manner in which he re- 
 ceived (perhaps wholesome) animadversions. Those who 
 were fond of order in the prayer meetings, charged him 
 with being " too enthusiastic ;" and wliich grieved him the 
 most, professed to doubt whether he had even " experienced 
 the pardon of his sins." These allegations induced him to 
 exclaim in secret, " God, thou knowest my heart I Thy 
 gloiy is the sole end I have in view :" and the next day, 
 after studying the scriptures for two hours, he adds — " This 
 day I have been more earnest at the tlirone of grace, than 
 ever I was before. I have prayed six or seven tunes, at 
 great length, that I might not be deceived, and felt my soul 
 melted down in the furnace of love." 
 
 At this period, besides attendmg to nvunerous religious 
 engagements, and studying the Holy Scriptures systemati- 
 cally and almost incessantly, he was employed in various 
 household duties, which his past indiscretions having con- 
 tributed to impose, so his present humihty influenced him 
 to perform. He Ukewise devoted a certain portion of each 
 day to the education of his yoimger sisters ; and withal, 
 attended to the settlement of various accounts cormected 
 with his father's concerns. The adjudication of these 
 affairs was irksome to his spiritual sensibihty, by bringing 
 him into contact with persons and ciicumstances ungenial 
 to the growth of piety ; and in one instance especially he 
 very narrowly escaped an unpleasant exposure in connexion 
 with the Marshalsea. His own account of this accident 
 is as follows : " I had this day a miraculous interposition 
 
68 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 of Divine aid ; I was in a strait, owing to some error I had 
 
 committed in 's business, confined in the Marshall's, 
 
 which would have remanded him. I cried unto the Lord, 
 and he delivered me. He caused that the mistake was 
 not perceived by the officer of the court, though seven 
 persons were remanded for a far less trifling mistake. I 
 will glorify thy name, O Lord my God !" He but a few 
 days before prevailed upon his father to give to a person 
 whom he had arrested, a clear receipt against a bill of 300Z., 
 for the consideration of a note for 502. payable in six 
 months. 
 
 The custom of waking with the dead, although of great 
 antiquity and extensively prevalent in Ireland, is so fre- 
 quently cormected with social broils, and other cucmn- 
 stances of indecorum, that it would be much "more 
 honoured by the breach than the observance." This 
 practice, however, is not confined either to the poor or the 
 ignorant ; and the subjoined passage from Mr. Summer- 
 field's Diary at this period, will show that even such an 
 observance may be turned to spiritual account 11 
 o'clock, I went to a wake of a dear brother, who had died 
 the day before in the Lord. Five of our brethren accom- 
 panied me ; we sat up all night : the room was filled with 
 a mixed society. Catholics and others : we redeemed the 
 time. Having obtained the consent of the relations of the 
 deceased, we commenced surging a Hymn, which is a most 
 unheard of tiling on these occasion, the time being usually 
 spent in mirth. I then went to prc/er: after this we 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERPIELD, 
 
 69 
 
 spent the night betwixt singing and praying, and exhort- 
 ing, and rehgious conversation, and our Uttle labours were 
 owned of God. Some were struck by his word and wept 
 aloud— Glory to God !" 
 
 The following memorandum relative to the domestic 
 circumstances of Mr. Summerfield's family at this junc- 
 ture is affectingly interesting : — " Diiuier, and hearing my 
 sisters their lessons : my father coming home, I was desired 
 to go with him to buy some clothes. He expended 91. 
 He was in great want of clothes himself. I remarked with 
 joy, that the first thing he said, after buying a coat for 
 himself, was ' now, I thank God, I can again attend the 
 means.' Lord, thou hast brought us very low, but thou 
 art again trying us with a httle prospect; may we in 
 every state be faithful to Thee." 
 
 Filial obedience is a most excellent, and much too rarely 
 practised cluistian virtue. It is not only the " first com- 
 mandment with promise," in the law of God, but happily 
 one of the most beautiful and early instincts of oiur nature. 
 Alas ! how soon does the depravity of the human heart 
 manifest itself in rebelhon against parental authority : and 
 it is no less a painful truth, that frequently the spiritual 
 cliildren of God, ftiil rightly to reverence theii' earthly 
 parents. It is indeed matter of lamentation to see how 
 many fathers and mothers, instead of themselves obeying 
 the divine injunction to " brmg up their children in the 
 nurture and admonition of the Lord," seem rather willing; 
 
70 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 by thek negligence, to disfranchise their offspring from 
 this paramount duty. It has aheady been shown that the 
 elder Mr. Summerfield was a man of God : to the utmost 
 of his ability he brought up his children in the way that 
 they should go. His son John, especially after his con- 
 version, not only duly reverenced his father as such, but re- 
 garded him as a christian professor of rare and ripe expe- 
 rience. He appears, however, to have inclined towards a 
 degree of strictness with reference to the subject of these 
 Memoirs, which might be partially attributable to the 
 past misconduct of the latter. 
 
 At prayer meetings, and other means of grace, as well 
 as in rehgious conversation with chiistian friends, Mr. Sum- 
 merfield w^as sometimes detained until a late hour in the 
 evening : this exposed him to the dissatisfaction and re- 
 monstrances of his father, who had generally on these 
 occasions to sit up, or rise from his bed to let him into the 
 house. While the Diary before me, contains towards the 
 commencement of his spu itual career, some entries — gene- 
 rally compunctious, on this side of the question ; it pre- 
 sents correlatively and throughout, iimumerable records 
 of the most delicate and affectionate expressions of filial 
 admiration as well as respect. " 24th January ; at family 
 prayer, tliis evening, the close of the week, my soul was 
 well watered. My father returned thanks most beautifully 
 for the mercies of the past year, which was spent in Lower 
 Mount-street ; and most pathetically implored Jehovah to 
 dwell with us in this house, not as a transient guest, but 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 71 
 
 as a stationary friend. In surveying the past year, I am 
 lost in thought ; the arm of the Almighty has been made 
 bare on our behalf, and has wrought irdiaculous dehver- 
 ances for us. We have known the want of bread last 
 year, and yet in this state our necessity proved the Lord's 
 opportunity. Oh, my Father, if my soul ever forget 
 Thee, may my right hand forget her cunning ! Oh ! that 
 all men would praise the Lord for liis wondrous works, 
 and for his loving kindness to the children of men. For 
 my own part, my heart is this evening ready to burst with 
 a gust of his praise — glory ! glory ! glory !" — " 25th Jan. 
 Sunday. This being the first morning in our new abode, 
 and also the morning of the Lord's own day, my dear 
 parent dedicated it to His service, whose it properly was. 
 My soul was melted down, and I hope received more of the 
 heavenly mould. I remarked that my father was specially 
 ihankful to God for afflictions — nay, he even prayed to be 
 tarther chastised if God saw it expedient, that he might 
 be drawn nearer and nearer to his Father. How imlike 
 many professors, who repine at these things — and even I, 
 oh, what a lesson have I to learn !" 
 
 It is painful to shade so beautiful a picture of family 
 1 ehgion, with the following passage, referring to the evenmg 
 of the same day : "11 o'clock, arrived home — the family 
 all in bed. And now, a scene occurred, which stole from 
 me every blessing I had got to day. Satan truly presented 
 himself to me as an angel of hght in this temptation. — 
 My father reproved me for being out until so late an hour. 
 
72 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 and threatened the consequences if I continued in the 
 practice. It was suggested to my mind by the author of 
 all evil, that I was suffering for the cause of Christ? 
 The bait was weU gilded ! I swallowed it ! With this idea, 
 I returned some very improper answers to my dear parent, 
 which wounded him in the tenderest part : he not knowing 
 that I was connected with any prayer meeting." 
 
 For the first time since his conversion, he retired to rest 
 without prayer ; and rose at seven next morning, " but 
 could not pray !" He felt that he had grieved the Holy 
 Spirit, and saw that he had fallen : and his compunctious * 
 visitations derived an additional pang from the fact, that 
 although it was his duty to have apologized to his father 
 — his father almost apologized to him. His mind was in 
 a most abject and distressed state ; he felt he had suffered 
 loss in his soul ; and could not even bring his mind to 
 go to his class in the evening, but early retired to bed. In 
 a dream of the night he was particularly impressed with 
 this passage : " If any man sin, we have an advocate with 
 the Father, even Jesus Christ the righteous." He rose 
 early next morning, convinced that this was a monition 
 from God ; took courage, and instantly set about recover- 
 ing the happiness he had lost. He attended the Soldier's 
 prayer-ineeting in the evening, " and again tasted that the 
 Lord was gracious." 
 
 On the 31st of January, he writes thus : — " This is my 
 birth-day. When I take a survey of the mercies of my 
 
REV, JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 73 
 
 past life, and consider my poor returns, I am simk in the 
 deepest humility before ray God and Father. But I now 
 give myself anew to his service; I feel I am not my own; 
 and as I am this day at that maturity which the world 
 calls of age, when we cease to be children, I am fully deter- 
 mined to cease to be a child of the devil's any longer. — 
 My father gave me most loving advice to day. Oh ! may 
 I improve by so good precepts." 
 
 o 10 
 
74 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 SECTION V. 
 
 /Studies incessantly — thinks about the Christian ministry — 
 health very delicate — religious experience — ardent piety — 
 dreams. 
 
 The man who illustrates by his own practice, a mode 
 of cultivation by which two acres of giound may be made 
 to produce twice as much as they did before, is really a 
 greater benefactor to mankind, than he who shall discover 
 an island of two thousand acres extent, with but little 
 prospect of its ever being cultivated to any good purpose 
 at all. So, the individual, whose religious experience ex- 
 hibits most expUcitly and successfully the progress of 
 that growth in grace, and the manifestation of those 
 " fruits of righteousness" — that " peace and joy in the 
 Holy Ghost," which are expected to distinguish every 
 true believer in Christ Jesus, — such individual does more 
 towards recommending the cultivation of evangehcal vir- 
 tue among mankind, than he who presents unsuspected 
 peculiarities of christian character. In the moral as in 
 the material world, there exist, doubtless, immense tracts 
 of terra incognita ; but both, in a certain sense, appear to 
 have their hmits: and it is as frequently the case that great 
 men are the creatures of circumstances, as that they are 
 the volimtary creators of their own high destinies. L 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 75 
 
 Summerfield had been born in the dawn of Chiistianity, 
 he miglit have been an apostle ; — a century or two later, 
 and he might have won the crown of martyrdom ; — the 
 contemporary of Luther, and he might have been a refor- 
 mer : on the other hand, had Columbus been the contem- 
 porary of Cooke, he might, hke him, have circmnnavigated 
 the globe, and, with liim, have discovered sundry groups 
 of islands in the vast Pacific ; — a hundred years later, and 
 he might, with Parry, have penetrated towards the pole. 
 It is said might, in the foregoing assumptions, because in 
 both cases the spirit was the same, but its operation was 
 limited as well as modified by circumstances. A greater 
 than Columbus may be born, but the world probably does 
 not contain an unexplored tract large enough to immor- 
 talize his discovery : a greater than St. Paul may be con- 
 verted, but (and with reverence be it spoken) Christianity 
 has not an untilled field equal to that which lay before the 
 apostle of the Gentiles. 
 
 These remarks are suggested, perhaps gratuitously 
 enough, by the acknowledged fact, that the Diary of Mr. 
 Summerfield, although rich in the memorials of happy 
 experience, must nevertheless be regarded as comparatively 
 poor in incident. This lack of what the world looks for 
 as " spirit-stirring" matter, is abundantly compensated to 
 the christian reader, by the very circumstance of its details 
 consisting mainly of what may be deemed the every day 
 trials of faith and patience, and overflowings of love and 
 gratitude, which self observers, who converse much with 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 their own hearts, know well how to appreciate in one 
 another. Nor is it perhaps either quite fair to the subject, 
 nor absolutely required by honesty, to concede even so 
 much. Events, which, from their rarity or romance of 
 occurrence, or .the magnitude of their operations, are so 
 absorbing in many narratives of merely worldly interest, 
 have nevertheless, in most cases, but a fugitive impression ; 
 while in that little world of thought and feehng, which 
 lies within the circumference of every human heart, there 
 are incidents perpetually transpiring, unobserved by the 
 great world without, but which are of xmiversal interest, 
 either as developing moral plienomena, or as connecting 
 generally with the hopes, the fears, the joys and the sor- 
 rows, the aims and the enterprises of all mankind. 
 
 It has already been intimated, how assiduously and 
 imremittingly Mr. Summerfield, at this time, apphed him- 
 self to the systematic study of the Holy Scriptures, in con- 
 nexion with the usual expositors of sacred literature. 
 Under the date of Feb. 12, 1818, he writes — "This day, 
 I purpose getting a flint and steel, as my fire is so often out, 
 that I am obhged to he in bed till day-hght, as was the 
 case this morning." On what small things frequently 
 depend our convenience, our happiness, nay, the most im- 
 portant issues of hfe itself ! The purchase of a flint and 
 steel, for a few pence, added at least two hours to his day, 
 during the winter months. Time is often cheaply sold, — 
 sold for nought ; — here it was cheaply bought ; the value 
 of the bargain to Summerfield, he now knows far better 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 77 
 
 than he did at the time, highly as he prized it ; for every 
 moment well employed on earth, has its record and its reward 
 in eternity. How much his usefuhiess on earth may have 
 been improved by this recovery of time, (the most precious 
 talent, next to the grace of God to use it well.) it is vain to 
 speculate now. But let nobody who reads of this simple 
 incident, despise it ; let nobody be afraid or ashamed to go 
 and do hkewise, — to go and buy as much time by the sa- 
 crifice of sixpence, or the sacrifice only of an idle habit, or a 
 mischievous indulgence, as wiU purchase much temporal, 
 spiritual, and eternal enjoyment. It appears that he was 
 now in the habit of rising between four and five in the morn- 
 ing to his studies, and rarely retiring, vmtil near midnight. 
 
 " Feb. 13. — ("After private prayer, house matters, an hour 
 and a half studjdng Romans.) Read Young's Night 
 Thoughts till ten ; breakfast, &c. till quarter past ten, 
 when I resumed studying Romans unceasingly till half 
 past 12. Recreated in domestic affairs till one o'clock. 
 Resumed and continued unremittingly until a quEirter 
 before tliree ; dined, &c. «fec. ; half past three again resum- 
 ed the Romans, at which continued until half past five, 
 with an intermission of half an hour, during which tmie my 
 beloved Jolm, my [class] leader, visited me. Half past five 
 to half past six, prepared to go out, domestic afiaiis, and 
 private prayer ; then went to the soldier's prayer meeting ; 
 from which I returned a quarter before eight: then supper, 
 and from half past eight to half past ten studied Prideaux's 
 (Connexions, vol. 3. My father not come home, alarmed 
 g2 
 
78 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 me, and so unhinged my mind, that I could read no more : 
 I sent the children to bed, and spent an hour in prayer to 
 God, and serious self-examination. About half past eleven, 
 my father came in, and at twelve I went to bed. I watered 
 my pillow with tears of love to my sweet Jesus, and closed 
 my eyes as if in his arms." The foregoing is a fair sam- 
 ple of his diurnal occupations at this period, especially if we 
 add to it, the reading of Boss's Antiquities of Greece, and 
 such items as the following : — " My father then came in ; 
 dined, and spent an hour in conversing with him on 7th 
 Romans." 
 
 Amidst these notices of intense study, of almost every 
 spare moment gathered up for communion with God ; at- 
 tendance at preaching, and prayer meetings, at regular 
 seasons, or when opportunities occurred, — it is painful still 
 to learn, that he " came home (at half past ten) and was 
 censured again for late hours." At the recurrence of such 
 entries, this question naturally obtrudes itself : — Did not his 
 .father yet know that he was connected with the prayer 
 meetings 1 If he did — why is the son so often censured for 
 being so much, and so long, and it may be supposed, so 
 •{jrofitably engaged in them ? If he did not know, did he 
 not inquire how his son spent his evenings out till such late 
 hours ? Perhaps we ought to allow a father so peculiarly 
 circumstanced, the benefit of an hope, that if he erred in 
 being too strict in this matter, it was an error on the side 
 of christian as well as paternal prudence. 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 79 
 
 The aspirations of Mr. Summerfield's mind were almost 
 exclusively turned towards the work of God, and his ardour 
 in devotional exercises was so absorbing, that the interven- 
 tion of merely secular duties was not only cold and uninter- 
 esting, but frequently regarded as dampmg his spiritual 
 enjoyment. Indeed, the following entries shew with what 
 reluctance he engaged in worldly conversation. " Prayer 
 meeting in Park-Gate street ; Jesus was as good as liis 
 promise ; we were all blessed. When I came home, my 
 
 father chid me for my neglect in and 's busuiess ; 
 
 my mind was so unhinged, I could not study for some time ; 
 however, we had family prayer," &,c. — " Went over to the 
 Marshal's, where I was detained on business till near one. I 
 
 then called on Wm. in street, and was pressed 
 
 into the parlour, where were two ladies, in whose company I 
 spent two hours — I feel it was wrong — my soul suffered 
 loss by it." How tender was his conscience I Few persons 
 could see any sm in spending two hours in respectable so- 
 ciety ; nor perhaps was it otherwise wrong, than as he fdt 
 it so much time lost from coimiimiion with God. How 
 few even of his fathers in the gospel would have manifested 
 such sensibility ! and to how many who might be disposed 
 to chide hun for it as a weakness, might the young disciple 
 reply, in the words of the Saviour, when tweh e years of 
 age, " Wist ye not tliat I must be about my father's busi- 
 ness March 1. — In the morning, after having spent 
 iliree /lours in self-examination and prayer, he writes, "I 
 look for a special blessing from heaven to day." In the 
 forenoon — " My soul is like liquid gold this morning : it is 
 
80 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 softened by love, — Oh ! Father ! now lay on thy blessed 
 seal!" At 11 o'clock, "went to Sunday school, which I 
 
 opened by prayer — came away along with and , 
 
 but I find an unspeakable loss in my soul in consequence ; 
 their conversation was of that loose and almost indecorous 
 nature, that I find I have lost my centre by mixing with 
 them, and [am] quite imfit for religious duties." Again : 
 
 " Went to 's, on business for my father ; they are an 
 
 ungodly family ; I have lost by my visit ; a lady was there, 
 who compelled me to write an acrostic extempore, — I was 
 to blame for yielding." — Next morning he exclaims, " Oh, 
 that I had not paid that worldly visit last night." Thus 
 anxious was he to respect that excellent mle of Methodistic 
 discipline : — " Be serious ; let your motto be Holiness to the 
 Lord. Avoid all lightness, jesting, and foolish talking." 
 
 At this period his health was very dehcate ; and he was 
 especially subject to a grievous head ache : this, united 
 with the intensity of his studies, and the apparent necessity 
 that existed for him to set about helpuig his father in some 
 way, induced him to think of giving up the management 
 of prayer meetings ; and, for some reason which does not. 
 so clearly appear, his attendance at class also ; still, how- 
 ever, he resolved to continue to pray that he might know 
 the will of God concerning him, and especially with re- 
 ference to the ministry. 
 
 Having experienced considerable relief to his head, in 
 consequence of following the example of Mr. Wesley, who. 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMEEFIELD. 
 
 81 
 
 luider similar circumstances, consented to have his long 
 hair cut off — he still continued his usual attendance at the 
 means of grace. In one instance, he observes, " I gave the 
 whole five s hillin gs [part of which was borrowed] to my 
 class ; whether right or wrong, I know not ; but my poor 
 heart pitied Zion — Only six members attended it. I was 
 quite dispirited, and got no blessing under the means — my 
 mind is now, on this account, fully removed from all 
 thoughts of the Ministry ; and I informed my father that 
 I was bent on assisting him at his business." This is, 
 apparently, the first time of his naming the ministry as an 
 object of contemplation with him ; but it is evidently a 
 memorandum of only one of the confiicts in his mind on 
 this point, and the desponding result of many a previous 
 one. God, however, whose thoughts are not as our 
 thoughts, and whose ways are not as our ways, so far from 
 being about to desert his faithful servant to the errors of 
 his own imagination, appears rather by tliis process to 
 have been humbling him preparatory to the display of 
 more distinguishing spiritual revelations. 
 
 On the Sunday following, he went to the fellowship meet- 
 ing in Gravel Walk ; " a better time was never remembered ; 
 several were set at liberty ; I sang, prayed, and exhorted, — 
 my cup did indeed run over." Next evening he adds — 
 " Went to my class ; I am astonished at the goodness of God ! 
 He makes my cup run over : I concluded by prayer, and the 
 Lord owned me wonderfully ; many declared it was the best 
 •class we ever had. — God can raise up stones to praise him." 
 11 
 
82 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 Mr. Sunimerfield, from his childhood upward, manifested a 
 disposition the reverse of stoical, and this he mainly inhe- 
 rited from lais father. Strong feelings were famiUar to 
 him. High enjoyments or deep distress. His cup ru nnin g 
 over with sweetness, or with bitterness. These very 
 frames, so exquisitely quick to feel and to be moved by 
 every touch of joy or woe, gave his whole subsequent life 
 (especially in his ministerial labours) its pecuhar character, 
 and constituted liim the preaciier, who could, by sympathy, 
 raise the most powerful and passionate emotions in his 
 audiences. 
 
 The exercises of his mind were at this time very vio- 
 lent, — feeling, as he did, a desire to be devoted wholly to 
 the service of God, and, at the same time, a necessity laid 
 upon him to give more of his attention to some kind of 
 secular labour. Still, however, he clung close to the rock 
 of his help : toward the middle of March, he thus records 
 his lamentation and his resolution : — " How Uttle have I 
 studied in the past week ! I am resolved to give new edge 
 to my exertions." 
 
 " Ask, and ye shall receive ; seek, and ye shall find," 
 is the language of Him who holds the dispensation of all 
 spiritual blessings ; and Siimmerfield was not one who 
 pleaded coldly or unbelievmgly for any of the precious 
 promises of the gospel ; and on this occasion, especiaJly, he 
 experienced a new and deep baptism of the Holy Ghost. 
 Being on a Sunday afternoon, with a few other religious 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 83 
 
 persons, at the house of a friend, he writes: — "I was 
 never in my Ufe possessed of such feeUngs. While sitting 
 in silence, the words, ' I have loved thee with an everlast- 
 ing love,' flashed into my mind in so sweet a manner, that 
 I could not contain ; I burst into tears ; all wondered at the 
 cause ; a Hymn book was handed me ; I sung and 
 prayed ; and that night I received an unction from the 
 Holy One ! Glory be to Jesus !" When he awoke next 
 morning, he " foimd the fire alive within — the love was 
 binning." At half past six he went to the prayer meet- 
 ing, where, says he, "my soul was so overpowered with the 
 love of Jesus that I wept amain. I w£is often inclined to 
 go out, that I might roai- out the pantings of my soul. — 
 For the first time, dear brother M'Dowall called on me to 
 pray. I scarcely could utter words for weeping ; but my 
 heart was frill — full — fuU ; many will remember the 
 morning." 
 
 The habitual tendency of his soul towards the object of 
 Its supreme love, is strikingly indicated by such entries 
 as the following : — " Being alone, I snatched the oppor- 
 tunity, and spent half an hour in secret intercourse wnth 
 heaven. Oh ! that I could pray always ! 3 to 5, imceas- 
 ingly studied Taylor's Key. Being again left alone, I 
 snatched another half hour to converse with my Beloved." 
 — " My sisters went out, and Jesus did certainly spend 
 those three hours with me." What blessed opportunities 
 were these to him, when the members of the family were 
 all absent, and he was left alone — yet was he not alone, 
 
94 MEMOIRS OP THE 
 
 for Jesus made his sweetest visits to him then ; as himself 
 testifies : — " My sisters are gone to spend the day out. 
 and I am alone with Jesus." 
 
 Summerfield watched — lay in wait, as it were — for 
 special opportunities for private devotion, when he could 
 uninterruptedly cry aloud in prayer to God. How much 
 have they to answer for to their own souls, who never enter 
 into their closets, shut too the door, and then pray to their 
 Father which seeth in secret ; — or if they do, slink from 
 secular engagements to this duty as to a task, and come 
 away, not hghtened of a burthened conscience, but as 
 released from a necessary penance to keep conscience quiet 
 under its burthen. O what a mercy it is to feel that burthen 
 intolerable ! to lie down under it at the Redeemer's feet, 
 like the woman who was a sinner, and though we speak 
 not a word for shame and sorrow, determine never to rise 
 again, till he says, "Thy sins, which are many, are forgiven 
 thee :" — at least, never till we know that we are sincerely, 
 and with our whole heart, asking the blessing, and beUeving 
 that we shall have it according to our faith, in the Lord's 
 time. That time indeed is now — for all his time is noun, 
 who is " the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever," but 
 sometimes ours is " not yet." Even then when he comes 
 to deliver, He may say to us, with the rebuke of kindness, 
 — " O ye of little faith, why did ye doubt ?" 
 
 A few miscellaneous entries from his Diary at this time, 
 may be with propriety introduced here. " Spent two 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 85 
 
 hours in reading Clarke, and discoursing on it with my 
 father, from whom I received more hght than from the 
 Doctor." This able commentary was a great favourite 
 with him, and " unceasingly studied" at this time. The 
 truly spiritual writings of Fletcher, however, were still 
 more deeply intteresting to him, and it is not too much to 
 suppose, that his whole soul and character received a very 
 powerful bent from the contemplation of the personal as 
 well as the polemical sanctity of tliis able and pious author. 
 He devoied some time to the " learning of short hand, 
 trusting that it might be of use," and hkewise "exercised on 
 the Piano." His taste for music had been cherished, if 
 not contracted, at the Moravian seminary; and might 
 justly be so, as an accomphsliment not without many 
 advantages to a preacher. With reference to stenography, 
 lie appears either not to have studied it successfully, or to 
 liave abandoned it as inconvenient in practice, as no traces 
 of it are observable among his papers — a cucumstance of 
 no regret to his biographer, who, whatever be his opinion 
 of its utihty in many cases, feels glad that he is absolved 
 from the task of decyphering it in this. "March 22, 
 went to Werberg's church, and for the first time, receivv»d 
 the memorials of the death of my Lord. — It was to me a 
 most solemn occasion, and I could indeed feehngly say 
 with the poet : — 
 
 ' My Jesus to know, and feel his blood flow, 
 'Tis life everlasting— 'tis heaven below.' " 
 H 
 
86 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 Being invited to take breakfast out, he observes : — " As I 
 purposed this day to mortify the body, I took two cups of 
 tea ; afterwards was called on to pray — all the family were 
 assembled." At noon, he adds, after studying for two 
 hours Clarke on the Hebrews — " The family then going 
 to dine, I walked out pursuant to my design, and went to 
 the Park ; having found a sequestered spot, I wrestled 
 Avith God till near 4 o'clock, and was greatly blessed. 
 Returned home, and after domestic matters, T went to the 
 Soldier's meeting, where I sung and prayed." After read- 
 ing the foregoing memorial of his fast, and when we re- 
 collect that his retirement to the Park was in the cold 
 month of March, we cannot, without being affected, meet 
 with the following item about a fortnight afterwards : 
 " April 12 — This is my dear father's birth day, aged 48. — 
 Dined on cocoa, as we had no money. It is nmch better 
 than we deserve." 
 
 " April 10. I have had a strange dream about the 
 
 preachers, in which and were concerned — I regard 
 
 it as a mission from God to me ;" — the night following, — 
 "I dreamed that Mr. Cobain came to me, and remarked that 
 it would be better, if I would get a coat, &c. of a more 
 suitable colour for the work of God. What can I do ? I 
 have no means, but Jehovah Jireh, — Jehovah Jireh." 
 Nearly all persons dream at one time or another, and 
 there are perhaps but few who do not pay some attention 
 to such dreams as are very remarkable. It would, indeed, 
 as little argue wisdom in a man of God, altogether to dis- 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 87 
 
 card, as implicitly to observe, every impression made upon 
 the mind during sleep ; — wise and good men have never 
 acted exclusively, either on one side or the other. Sum- 
 merfield, therefore, is not to be blamed for paj-ing some 
 attention to that phenomenon, wliich patriarchs, prophets, 
 apostles, and confessors in all ages, have acknowledged as 
 one of the modes chosen by the Almighty for the com- 
 munication of liis will. " For God speaketh once, yea 
 twice, yet man perceiveth it not. In a dream, in a vision 
 of the night, when deep sleep faUeth upon men, in slum- 
 berings upon the bed ; then he openeth the ears of men, 
 and sealeth their instruction."* The fantastic frivolity of 
 dreams in general, need no more prevent a holy man from 
 attending to any good communication wliicli may be made 
 to him in his sleep, than the folly of the waking hours of 
 those around liim, ought to deter him from an attempt to 
 counteract their eyt'Z communications; because, being "asleep 
 in their sins," it may be emphatically said — <• they know 
 not what they do." 
 
 * Job xxxiii. ver. 14—16. 
 
88 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 SECTIOJV VI. 
 
 Received as a local preacher — attention to domestic duties — 
 visits for the " Strang€r''s Friend Society" — anxieties about 
 his ministerial call — overtaken with a fault — excessive fast- 
 ing — removal to Cork — entire devotedness to God. 
 
 We now come to contemplate Mr. Summerfield in his 
 introduction to that high and important office, which had 
 so long been the object of his holy ambition, as a member 
 of the Methodist society — as a prayer leader — as an ex- 
 horter — as a visiter of the sick — as a Sunday school teach- 
 er — as a speaker at the conversation meetings of Christian 
 brethren — as a class leader — as a rich and fluent scriptu- 
 rist, — and above all, as a young man of fervent piety, and, 
 considering his years, of deep experience. Mr. Summerfield 
 was justly esteemed by those of his friends who were best 
 acquainted with him, as the possessor of gifts and graces far 
 .above the ordinary rank. Wliile, therefore, his youth, and 
 the official responsibility of his elders, justified the pru- 
 dence exercised toward him ; his own conduct, from the 
 period of his conversion to the termination of his hfe, never 
 afforded a single incident to lead any individual to suspect, 
 much less to say, that his elevation had been too precipi- 
 tate, or his progress too rapid. 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 89 
 
 It is well known to persons acquainted with the admirable 
 cconomj- of the Methodist society, that between the de- 
 scription of persons, whose engagements are intimated above, 
 and the regularly itinerating ministers, there is an impor 
 (ant class of labourers, designated local preachers ; mdividu- 
 als of accredited piety, whose mouths God has opened to 
 call sinners to repentance, and to declare to them the sal 
 ration that is in and by Jesus Christ. These men, un- 
 learned as they often are, deserve not only to be regarded 
 with honour " for their work's sake," but with astonisliment. 
 on account of the original talents and uncoimnon experi- 
 ence which many of them possess. Philosophy — or even 
 philosophical religionists, would often be justly surprised to 
 hear, on the Sabbath day, men who, during the other six 
 days, labour incessantly for the bread that perisheth, — to 
 hear such men eloquently declare from the pvdpit the won- 
 derful works of God. 
 
 In this rank of preachers, therefore, Mr. Sununerfielfl 
 took his place; and it was while graduating therein, that 
 his pulpit ministrations attracted toward liim such unwont- 
 ed popularity. It may, however, be interesting to notice 
 some of the steps by which he ultimately, as a regular 
 preacher, ascended to the sacred desk. 
 
 He had frequently delivered brief, and occasionally more 
 lengthened exhortations at prayer meetings, and elsewhere, 
 as well as expatiated upon given passages of Scripture, at 
 religious "conversation meetings;" but he had never spoken 
 h2 12 
 
90 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 publicly from any text, mitil Thursday morning, April 23, 
 1818, when, being at the six o'clock services at Gravel 
 Walk Chapel, in Dublin, he was called upon to officiate 
 in a more formal manner : but his own statement of the 
 case, made only for his private infoi-mation, and in the 
 simplicity of his heart, will be acceptable : — " Mr. M'Dowall 
 commenced by singing and prayer, then called me forward 
 to read and exhort; I never spoke before from any passage 
 in the word of God ; this, then, was my first attempt. I 
 read part of the 4th chapter of PauVs second Epistle to Tim. 
 My master was with me ; I spoke fluently, and though I 
 have a defect in my speech, I felt nothing of it — I take it 
 to be a token of good frorr> God. ' Whatever thou hast 
 for me to do, oh ! prepare me for it ; only make me a holy 
 Christian !' " His second attempt was on the Monday fol- 
 lowing, at the same chapel. " I had,"sajs he, "to carry 
 on the meeting alone — I sang twice, prayed twice, and ex- 
 horted for about half an hour, on the 13th and 14th verses 
 of 1st chapter of Ephesians ; this is my second attempt, 
 though this was more immediately in the form of a sermon. 
 I felt great liberty, and I hope good was done." After a 
 few days he repeated the experiment at the same chape], 
 preaching from Rev. chap. ii. ver. 1-7. 
 
 That this auspicious advent of his highest hopes, was 
 jMt unaccompanied by corresponding trials, will sufficiently 
 appear from the following passages from his diary. " April 
 15, wrote yesterday to Mr. Jones, applying for a situation 
 in his concerns — this I did at my fatlier's desire — I am 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 91 
 
 perfectly resided ; I have made it a matter of prayer ; I 
 am ill the hands of God : my body and soul are both his 
 oAvn — let him do what seemeth liim good."' Again ; 
 '• April 30, my father came home, having left Jones's em- 
 ploy: what has God now in store for us? Is his fatherly 
 hand about to use the chastening rod again ? Father, if it 
 be possible, avert the cup ; if not, thy wiU be done ! Amen. 
 He has appointed me to go in the morning to Newtown 
 park." Again ; " May 1, I went to Newtown park with 
 my father, and returned at half past 6 this evening. This 
 is my first day's work for many years." 
 
 As the fainily were in very straightened cucumstances, 
 while they resided in Leland, an emotion of surprise may 
 be excited during the pemsal of the first year a,nd a half 
 of these diurnal entries, that amidst all the memorandums 
 of morning, noon, and evening meals, and devotional and 
 studious occupations, he seems to have followed no regular 
 employment, as a clerk or otherwise, tliough he often 
 speaks of being occasionally so engaged ; as for instance : 
 " June 8th, from the 18th May to tliis time, I have been 
 more or less concerned every day in worldly business, and 
 could not get disentangled therefrom." Was he, it will 
 naturally be enquired by some, all this time a bvirthen of 
 expenses (in no other respect could such a man be a bui'- 
 then to those who loved him best) to his father ? To this 
 not unreasonable enquiry, it may be rephed, first — it is 
 certain that upon his father devolved mainly the necessity 
 of supporting Ids son ; which, however, there is no reason 
 
92 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 to believe he at this time felt to be burtheiisome. Secondly, 
 as they appear to have kept no servant, and his sisters 
 being too young to be entrusted with housekeeping, he 
 seems not only to have attended to their education, but 
 to have managed entirely the domestic affairs of their 
 little estabUshment — iimumerable proofs of his being thus 
 engaged daily while at home occur in the diary. Thirdhj. 
 he did, moreover, occasionally at least, employ himself in 
 writing, (fcc. as noticed before. Fourthly, and this is very 
 important — so far from being idle, in any sense of the 
 word, he was indefatigable as a student of the Holy Scrip- 
 tures, and of works of Theology ; aiid Fifthly, he had 
 a strong, an abiding, and a reasonable presentiment, that 
 God had designed him for, and would in his own time and 
 way, bring him into the ministry. These remarks are 
 not made with the view of justifying at all a similar course 
 in any other individual ; much less for the purpose of in- 
 ducing any other young man to adopt a hke conduct ; — 
 Init merely for the requisite purpose of showing, that if 
 Mr. Summerfieid was led by his peculiar circumstances to 
 pursue a line of conduct in this respect, which, according 
 to the usual arrangements of piovidence, some might 
 regard as an exception to the general rule, the result, in his 
 case, justified the experiment. 
 
 It is pleasant, however, to turn from these onerous ex- 
 tenuations of his conduct in one particular relation, to the 
 gratifying fact, that having found access to the pulpit, and 
 Acceptance among the preachers, he resolved to devote 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 93 
 
 himself with double dihgence to secure the richer and 
 more abundant outpourings of the spirit of God upon his 
 own soul. For instance : — " May 6th, rose at 5, and retued 
 into the garden for meditation and prayer, which occupied 
 me an hour. I find I should grow in grace more, if I 
 prayed in private more ; all the public means of grace will 
 not compensate me in this respect. By the grace of God, 
 and relying on his divine aid, I purpose begmning from 
 this day to pray in private five times every day." How- 
 ever improbable it may be that he should have long kept 
 such a resolution, or questionable the propriety of having 
 vowed to keep it at aU, it appears from subsequent Edlusion, 
 that it was observed by hmi at least for some time with 
 rehgious scrupulosity, and corresponding advantage. 
 Every thing done faitlifully to the Lord hath its peculiar 
 reward. 
 
 They who have most largely experienced the influences 
 of the grace of God, and consequently discovered most 
 deeply the innate corruption of their own hearts — are 
 alone able to understand what is meant by those tempta- 
 tions from the world, the flesh, and the devil, to which a 
 spirit seeking to increase in hoUness is pecuharly exposed. 
 To such only, will the following sentence be at all intel- 
 ligible, occurring, as it does, amidst notices of prayer, almost 
 literally " without ceasing," and the most umemitting ex- 
 ertions for the salvation of souls: — "Unceasing meditation 
 on the word of God — Private prayer — and self-examina- 
 
94 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 tion ill the presence of God— Oh, my sins of Omission, 
 Omission, Omission. 
 
 'Lord, grant me mercy for the past, 
 And grace for' time to come.' " 
 
 Such was the daily practice — such the ingenuous confes- 
 sion of the conscientious John Summerfield, wlien a chris- 
 tian of httle more than twelve months standing. " Who 
 then is that faithful and wise servant, whom his Lord 
 when he cometh shall find so doing ?" — that he shall not 
 have occasion, not only to say, " I am an unprofitable ser- 
 vant, I have done only that which it was my duty to do," 
 — but rather to cry " Omission, Omission, Omission !" 
 
 Sunday morning, June 14th, half past 8, " came home 
 (from preaching ;) my mind was in an unusually happy 
 frame this morning ; I could weep aU the day long ; I fear 
 some temptation is at hand — I could scarcely restram my 
 feehngs under family prayer. I retired immediately to 
 the garden, and such a sweet powerful time of prayer I 
 don't reiTfiember." This is a very toucliing scene of per- 
 sonal experience : but still, amidst this rush of happy feel- 
 ing, a still small voice whispered, " Rejoice with trembling:" 
 he Avas so happy, that he feared some temptation was near. 
 These are delicate but perilous feelings ; and we shall often 
 be discouraged if we measure oui- love and faith by the 
 sensible measure of peace that passeth understanding, and 
 joy unspeakable and full of glory, which are permitted 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELU. 
 
 95 
 
 oiily as occasional antepasts of heaven, while we are tia- 
 vellmg through thorns and briars in a world yet under the 
 primal curse, — though, wherever that curse hath reached, 
 blessed by the footsteps of the second man, the Lord from 
 heaven, who is with his servants alway and every where, 
 even to the end of the world, when they preach the 
 gospel. 
 
 Candour, however, requires that it be added, that the day 
 alluded to at the couunencement of the preceding paragraph, 
 terminated with an incident much less pleasing than that 
 wliich characterized its beginning. After a day spent in 
 religious duties, he remained with a pious friend until near 
 11 o'clock, after which he returned home, and "was locked 
 out — Lay at an Inn this night." AUusion has been pre- 
 viously made to a mischance of this kind — there is how- 
 ever no subsequent instance of its repetition. It was 
 indeed an early hour, at which to be locked out. Such 
 strict family discipline within doors could hardly be right 
 in this case, since it exposed those who were unfortimately 
 out of doors when the key turned, to inconvenience, ex- 
 pense, temptation, danger, and perhaps scandal as professors 
 of religion. It would be unjustifiable to blame the father 
 for this exercise of parental authority — but oh ! what 
 would many fathers, who have not such sons as Summer- 
 field, give to open the door to their children of dissipation 
 at no later an hour ? Three days afterward, in accounting 
 as usual for all his tune, he incidentally writes : — 10 
 o'clockj " came home and staid up for my father till 1 1 
 
96 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 o'clock — then retired, after private prayer to my God." 
 He did not lock his father out. 
 
 Amongst other pious engagements which about this 
 period occupied the attention of Mr. Summerfield, was 
 that of taking appointments on behalf of the " Stranger's 
 Friend Society." This praise-worthy institution, so admi- 
 rably calculated to exercise the gifts and graces of a 
 zealous convert, was estabhshed in DubUn by Dr. Adam 
 Clarke, in the year 1790, for the purpose of visiting and 
 reheving strangers in distress, as weU as the resident in- 
 dustrious and sick poor of every denomination throughout 
 the city and its vicinity ; and of accompanying their visits 
 with small gifts of money, reUgious instruction, and prayer. 
 The Society continues in operation to this day, and its 
 agents are aU members of the methodist society, and con- 
 sist of three classes, viz. Local Preachers — Exhorters — and 
 those who have the gift of public prayer. By the sub- 
 scriptions and donations of the pubUc to this work of mere)-, 
 the managers are enabled to distribute about five hundred 
 pounds per annum — sometimes more. The field of labour 
 opened by this society attracted Sunmierfield soon after 
 his conversion : — " I, who am myself only a stranger in 
 Dubhn, am anxious to become a stranger's friend," said 
 he ; and the salutary discipline wliich he therein experi- 
 enced, quite justified the following sentiments in a letter 
 from his esteemed friend and class-leader— Patrick French: 
 — "I am very glad that you have taken occasional ap- 
 pointments for the Stranger's Friend Society. I know 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERPIELD. 
 
 97 
 
 them well. They were my best friends, and from experi- 
 ence, I assure you, that being directed by them, either 
 directly or indirectly, will secure you the means of enjoj^ng 
 ihe approbation of God. When I joined that society, I was 
 a stranger to all in DubUn, with a few exceptions — but 
 having given myself to them, and their work, I met with 
 some crosses, many blessings, and dbimdant consolations.^^ 
 
 It may here without impropriety be noted, that " Social 
 Meetings'' for reUgious conversation, at which the members 
 of the various societies in Dublin took breakfast, or after- 
 noon tea, together, are still kept up, and in them is main- 
 tained a general and profitable religious conversation, which 
 is made a pecuUar blessing to the persons present. These 
 interviews were very interesting to Summerfield, and fre- 
 quent allusions to them occur in the Diary : the following 
 exhibits a dehcate trait : — " attended our social meeting. 
 Arranged for the ensumg breakfast — It is my turn to 
 invite — I will therefore invite my father, as we expect 
 WiUiam Bunting, Mr. Gaulter, &c. to it, and I know I 
 could not give him a higher gratification." 
 
 On the 23d of June, he made the annexed memoran 
 dum, which appears too interesting to be omitted: "Mis. 
 Campbell has desired my father to let me spend the entire 
 of this day with her dying son. May I go filled with 
 the spirit of prayer ! — I went, &c. I staid there to break- 
 fast, and remained till 2 o'clock. He is very happy ; I 
 read Baxter's d}Tng thoughts for him, and commented 
 I 13 
 
98 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 thereon : I prayed with the family — my own soul was 
 watered also."— After dirmer, he adds, " Mrs. Campbell 
 has desired me to spend the whole night with WUliam. 
 I very unwell myself ; yet if it be the wiU of my Mas- 
 ter, I will go notwithstanding this." He went accordingly, 
 but found his friend, " no more a man ! he was now be- 
 come an angel ; I remained with the beautiful clay aU 
 ^ght — Oh ! that I was landed as safely beyond the 
 stream !" How short a time sufficed to realize this ardent 
 aspiration ! 
 i 
 
 The precision with which he notes the various emotions 
 cormected with the composition and delivery of his pulpit 
 discourses ; and hi.^ record of the slightest intimations of 
 ^ approbation or otherwise, expressed by the preachers, all 
 tend to illustrate ftie undoubted fact, tliat he ver^ carefully 
 •watcheji every movement of the finger of God in this 
 moi|ie^t6us affair. ' Indeed it is evident, from several 
 ■ incidental expressions, that his mind was labouring from 
 day to day, in an'xioy« .suspense, as if he waited for some 
 providential change, some call from God, which should 
 decide the future courge and complexion of his hfe. He 
 seems less to have aimed at a distinct object — consciously 
 at least, than to have expected some such manifestation as 
 should decide /or him : it is indeed abundantly evident, that 
 with heart, soul, mind, and strength, he had been preparing 
 for the ministry, and longing to be clearly and effectually 
 brought into it, — not of his own will only, but by the will 
 of God : indeed, the former appears to have been so reso- 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 99 
 
 lutely submitted to the latter — so conscientiously sacrificed 
 to it — that he was hEirdly aware of its survival in liimself. 
 
 This perfect resignation accounts, too, for that absence of 
 anxiety, so nearly resembling indifference, with which he 
 regarded any prospect of a pennanent situation ; for in- 
 stance, after naming an individual, he says — " He proposed 
 
 for my acceptance the probabihty of a situation in 
 
 of 60 or 701. per annum. Judging that this might be of 
 God, I told him that if it offered, 1 would not refuse it — if 
 it be thy will, my Lord I open thou the way." The way 
 however remained closed — God had other work for him 
 to do. 
 
 Under July 13th, he writes: — "Heard Gideon Ousely, on 
 loving God with all the heart, mind, soul, and strength. 
 Came home, and after sweet private prayer, retired. I 
 was much blessed under Gideon Ousely, and very near 
 the attainment of the blessing I so much desire. My mind 
 was kept in a sweet frame all the evening. Is a fall, or 
 even a deep temptation, at hand ?" Next morning, he con- 
 tinues, " foimd Jesus remarkably present ; I could scarcely 
 do any thing this morning but pray and weep. I don't 
 know when I was in so happy a frame : my head was a 
 fountain of tears, my heart was broken, and the healing 
 balm began to flow into my soul. I fear I shall shp : this 
 happy frame, is to me a presage of a sore temptation — 
 watch and pray." 
 
100 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 A powerful temptation was at hand. Satan, who had 
 laid a snare in the way of a secular engagement, into 
 which, much against his incUnation, Mr. Summerfield had 
 to enter the following afternoon, was but too successful in 
 bringing his conscience into bondage. The enemy having 
 so far succeeded with the temptation, then came in as a 
 flood upon him. " I felt (says he) the conflict between 
 conscience and Satan, and in two attacks I gave him the 
 repulse : he renewed the effort, and my w^ll consented. 
 Oh, the mercy that God did not strike me dead !" He 
 felt unutterable, pangs of conscience, at the recollection of 
 this fault, (having while settling an affair of business, been 
 induced to take a part of a pint of porter, which, as he 
 was unaccustomed to it, affected his head,) and when he 
 reached home, he indeed knelt down in his agony, but 
 instead of that sweet intercourse with heaven, which he 
 had experienced on the preceding evening, he could not 
 even speak in prayer ; his strength had departed, and 
 amid bursting sighs, and with a heavy heart, he retired to 
 rest. 
 
 The following morning he rose at half past five, and 
 attempted to pray ; " but oh ! (he exclaims) how dead was 
 every power of my soul — Father, forgive, forgive !" In 
 the evening, he preached to the old men, at the hospital, 
 from James, chap. iv. 8 — 10. " Draw nigh to God, and 
 he will draw nigh to you. Cleanse your hands, ye sirmers ; 
 and purify your hearts, ye double minded. Be afllicted, 
 and mourn, and weep: let your laughter be turned to 
 
REV. JOHN StMMERFIELD. 
 
 101 
 
 mourning, and your joy to heaviness. Humble yourselves 
 in the sight of the Lord, and he shall lift you up." 
 Whatever may have been the advantages of this sermon 
 to the hearers, the preacher appears to have experienced 
 the blessing promised in the text : " I had (says he) no 
 power in myself ; however, sinful as I am, I put the 
 Lord to his promise, and found him faithful — my natural 
 impediment (of speech) was gone, and I never spake so 
 free from it before. — It was a blessed time, and I myself 
 was refreshed. — Strange to say, after the meeting, I lost 
 this hberty of speech, and could not speak three words 
 together." He then, in connexion with a subsequent en- 
 gagement and blessing on the same day, makes the fol- 
 lowing curious remark with reference to a peculiar affec- 
 tion in the muscles of his tongue, which he occasionally 
 mentions. " Was at Gravel Walk prayer meeting — I 
 was called to the desk, to conclude the meeting ; I never 
 was in such a state before : I could not even speak ! This 
 is truly my thorn in the flesh. — However, I raised my 
 heart and eyes to heaven, and gave out, ' Salvation, oh ! the 
 joyful sound !' &c. I cast myself into my Saviour's arms, 
 and began to pray ; but oh ! wonderful to tell ! my tongue 
 was loosed ; the Holy Ghost came down ; nothing but 
 loud weeping, and echoing amens, were heard in all parts 
 of the house, and my own voice lost. The power was 
 evidently of God, and not of man — I believe many will 
 have cause to remember it." 
 
 As this is the only instance of his being so overtaken, 
 
102 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 which occurred in the whole course of his christiau Ufe, it 
 may be thought by some of the readers of these memoirs, 
 that the strictest fidehty in a biographer hardly required 
 the introduction of such a comparatively trifling mcident. 
 If, however, any individual who may happen to peruse 
 these pages, should be so unhappily constituted, as to 
 derive any, even the shghest, motive for exultation in this 
 " fault of his brother," — ^let such an one remember, that 
 the foregoing circumstance is mentioned, not even to gra- 
 tify an idle curiosity, but rather as the only proof I shall 
 henceforward be able to produce, on the grovmd of any 
 overt defalcation in his religious conduct, that Mr. Sum- 
 merfield, amidst all his excellencies, was " a man of hke 
 passions with ourselves." On the other hand, if any 
 young man of sanguine temperament, should in some 
 unguarded moment have sinned " after the similitude of his 
 transgression," let him imitate this penitent disciple of 
 the Lord Jesus, in seeking pardon, and hke him he will 
 find it. 
 
 It will be no trespass on the reader's patience to notice 
 another entry, made on the evening of the day last men- 
 tioned : — " Came home, and after much fervent prayer, in 
 wliich I found Jesus ready to give me the kiss of peace, 
 but yet some hinderance in me retarded it — I retired to rest, 
 and sensibly felt I should close my eyes under the protec- 
 tion of Heaven. Oh ! for a thousand tongues ; a thou- 
 sand, thousand tongues !" It may not be uninteresting 
 just to remark, in reference to a striking phrase in the 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 103 
 
 precediug extract^ that in the Moravian " Reception Litui - 
 gy," as it is called, there is a Hymn, beginning, 
 
 In the name of Jesus Christ our Lord !" 
 
 Tills is sung on the reception of members into the con- 
 gregation, and contains the following line : — 
 
 " May He give you his kiss of peace." 
 
 The phrase is evidently a recollection of Summevfield s 
 school exercises at Fairfield, and is used by liim, as well 
 as among the brethren, to denote pardon, acceptance, and 
 fellowship with the Lord Jesvis. 
 
 After mentioning with great humihty the fact, that at 
 one place in the country there had been but five heai-ers 
 on the preceding sabbath, but that he had a congre- 
 gation of twenty, and moreover, that one of the friends 
 complained, that as some of the young men who had heen 
 sent out there were not such as they Uked. they would 
 only receive three ; he adds, " Lord ! make me more hum 
 ble — I was one of the three ! — thou, oh ! my God, shalt 
 have the honour I I will put the crown on no head but 
 thine ! Have I a gift 1 Thou bestowedst it ! Oh ! grant 
 me more grwt /" After preaching in the evening of the 
 •same day, (July 19,) he thus writes in the diary : — " It 
 was a season of blessing here also. Go where I will, if in 
 the true spirit of sincerity, I meet my Master — God won- 
 
104 
 
 REV. JOHN SUMMERPIELD. 
 
 deifully subdued the thorn in my flesh — I never spoke 
 with such fluency and ease to myself. Bless and magnify 
 thy God ! oh ! my soul. I am now fasting thirteen hours ; 
 I have walked many miles, and twice preached till I am 
 quite hoarse ; yet I am neither weak nor loeary ; I could 
 go again, if called to it, to hold a third meeting. He won- 
 derfully supports my body on these occasions ; though I 
 want bodily food, yet having fed my soul, I feel no lack." 
 
 It is not quite clear from these words, whether the pro- 
 tracted abstinence to which they refer was casual or volun- 
 tary ; but from Mr. Summerfield's practice, the latter is 
 rather to be apprehended. If so, what are we to say about 
 such fasting, and labouring, not with the spiiit only, in 
 agony of prayer, but with all the bodily powers in preach- 
 ing ? This is a delicate question ; and though I shall 
 neither dispute nor dogmatize in a matter where the ex- 
 ample of our Saviour, the practice of the Christian Fathers, 
 the rubrics of the Church of England, and even the notifi- 
 cations of the Methodist Society, are express— I cannot but 
 observe, at the same time, that to the slow but eventual 
 substitution of unscriptural austerities against nature, for 
 the fruits of grace in the soul, may be attributed, as much 
 as to any other cause, the demoralization and downfall of 
 the Romish Church. Fasting must, however, be good, if 
 it is done with simplicity of heart, and discretion as to the 
 tune and measure of the exercise. After all, it is s. penance, 
 and may be a snare ; for a tender conscience may mistake 
 a yoke gratuitously taken up, and violently enforced 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 105 
 
 against nature, for a cross imposed by our Saviour. There 
 is indeed no command in the Gospel to fast ; but divines 
 have generally concurred with the idea, that as Christ 
 mentions it with alms-giving and prayer, which are un- 
 questionable duties, and moreover as he may be said to 
 have given directions concerning the right performance of 
 if, in his sermon on the mount, it is a salutary, if not a 
 necessary discipUne. It is a " voluntary huiniUation," and 
 though it may be profitable, yet they must be well per- 
 suaded in their own minds who use it, lest they bring 
 themselves under condenmation when they neglect it. It 
 may perhaps be laid down as a general and safe rule, with 
 few exceptions, tha.t fasting, in the less severe acceptation 
 of the term, as implying a partial abstinence from custo- 
 mary food, the better to prepare the spirit for devotional 
 exercises, is a sacrifice acceptable in the sight of God ; 
 whereas, perpetual maceration, or other injmious treatment 
 of the body, is neither to be practised nor recommended ; 
 {ot such a course we have no authority fi-om Christ, neither 
 from the Church. It is rather, however, to be feared that, 
 |)res€»/, the chief danger hes in the opposite direction. 
 The Methodist Conference in England authorizes what 
 are called " Quarterly Fast" days ; the observance of 
 which, however, is either very lax, or totally disregarded, 
 among the society. 
 
 Mr. Summerfield is now to be viewed, as labouring in a 
 new section of that extensive field of usefulness providen- 
 tially opened for him in Ireland. His father had been for 
 14 
 
106 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 some time engaged by Mrs. Barnes in the management of 
 the general machine manufactory, in Miller-street, Cork ; 
 to this city, at the call of his fatlier, this youthful, lovely, 
 and zealous apostle of our Lord Jesus, instantly repaired. 
 He left DubUn for Cork on the e3d of July, 1818, and ar- 
 rived at the latter place on the following evening, and con- 
 trary to his expectations, no worse in body, next morning, 
 although he had ridden on the outside of the coach, and 
 been thoroughly drenched with rain. He thus notices his 
 reception by his father and Mrs. Barnes : " Went to Han- 
 over-street Foundry, to seek my father, but was sent from 
 there to Miller-street, where I found him in good health, 
 and experienced from him another token of that love, 
 which he has always manifested towards me. At 9 o'clock 
 I was introduced to Mrs. B., the lady on whose business I 
 came here. I breakfasted with her, and was most wel- 
 comely received. This day 1 eiMployed in settling myself 
 in my new lodgmgs at her house." In the evening, he 
 continues — "Mrs. B — , my father, and I, set off in the 
 steam packet for Cove, where her family have lodgings 
 for water advantages. I was highly charmed with my 
 new traveUing machine, and with the surrounding scenery : 
 but alas ! ' This is not like my God,' and yet my heavenly 
 Father made all these." 
 
 The next day being the Sabbath, he piously and ap- 
 propriately remarks : — " This morning I had that leisure, 
 which I could not before meet with since I came to Cork. 
 I bought up the moments, and earnestly dedicated myself 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 lor 
 
 to God in this novel country ; I besought his grace to 
 enable me to walk circumspectly before aU, and preserve a 
 conscience void of offence. 1 scarcely recollect so great a 
 sense of the divine presence. — May I watch the finger of 
 Providence in this my call to this part of the country, and 
 trace his hand in aU the events of my life !" 
 
 The divine hand — for it was manifestly no other — soon 
 pointed out a way of employment, very different from that 
 which was the more immediate object of liis visit to Cork ; 
 for alt ough he entered promptly upon Mrs. Barnes' busi- 
 ness, and simdry entries occur of his dihgence therein, 
 yet his talents and piety being discovered and appreciated, 
 he was presently almost exclusively engaged in preaching 
 for one or other of the Methodist ministers, who reaUy 
 appear to have had too httle consideration about his deh- 
 cate frame, upon which he had no mercy himself ; while 
 the people exercised still less forbearance ui the mode and 
 measure of their approbation of his pulpit labours. These 
 things find their solution — perhaps their apology — in the 
 fact, that the uncommon fervour of his discourses, was 
 generally accompanied by abundant manifestations of ^he 
 divine presence. 
 
 The following naive entry occurs, under Smiday, Aug. 
 2nd : — " This promises to be a high day with me : I found 
 Jesus truly precious in my morning prayer. — 10 o'clock, 
 went to Patrick-street — heard Mr. Waugh on Peace in all 
 things, by all means, &c. and now, how can I describe my 
 
108 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 feelings, when, after morning worship, Mr. Stewart rises 
 up, and publishes these words : — ' Brother Summerfield, 
 from Dublin, a member of the Stranger's Friend Society- 
 there, will preach at 5 o'clock this evening at Douglas — 
 Brother Summerfield from Dublin,^ he repeated. — I knew 
 not whether I was sittmg or standing : I was thrown into 
 such a state of perturbation — He mistook me ; I am no 
 member of that society [not perhaps in the strict sense 
 — but he had often preached for them ;] " and to invite 
 immortal souls to come to hear me ! and this my first regu- 
 lar sermon, exceeded the powers of my mind to bear under ; 
 — I hmried home, and found the way to my closet — and 
 found my God there — Glory to Him !" At five o'clock, he 
 repaired to the preaching house, which was crowded to 
 excess. After casting himself by private prayer into the 
 arms of his blessed Master, he gave out his favourite HymU; 
 — " Oh ! what shall I do, my Saviour to praise," and then 
 preached three quarters of an hour fix)m Romans, viii. 32. 
 He felt great liberty in the pulpit, and probably regarded 
 the whole service as a happy presage of his future destiny, 
 for he thus writes concerning it : — " Thus have I com- 
 menced on this (to me) memorable day. And now ' I'll 
 praise my Maker while I've breath my heart warms in 
 the work, and I am determined to lay myself out for God." 
 
 How emphatically he acted upon this determination, the 
 subjoined entry, relative to his engagement on the follow- 
 ing Wednesday, will partially show : — "7 o'clock, I set 
 off to Blackpool ; the place was again crowded to excess. 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 109 
 
 Oh I my God, did I speak, and did they hear, for elemity ! 
 I was as wet with the heat as if I had been dragged 
 through water. I exerted too much, and preached near 
 an hour ; besides the singing and prayer : but who could 
 forbear ? If I injure my body, I cannot restrain : — I hur- 
 ried home ; muffled up as well as I could, and got to bed."' 
 ^Vell might his record, next morning, be, " I find myself 
 yery unwell from last night ; and therefore (he continues) 
 obtained a respite from further labour, the remainder of 
 this week ; which time I employed, as good George Howe 
 says — in mending my net — nay more, in employing the 
 aid of Him, who can direct me how to let it down on the 
 right side of the ship."' A day or two afterwards, when 
 called upon to pray at the pubUc bands, a kind brother 
 w Iiispered in his ear, " take care lest the sword cut the 
 scabbard." This metaplior, which is proverbial, is yet 
 hardly a correct one. Of what use is the sword in the 
 scabbard ; by nisting there it may consume it — but the 
 body is something more to the sword than the scabbard : 
 the metaphor, however, though it will not exactly '-go on 
 idl fours,"' is suflaciently expressive of the danger to be ap 
 prehended to the delicate form of our young preacher, 
 when his " soul was shai-pened," to use his own words, b} 
 a sense of the presence of his Master. 
 
 It was ever Jlr. Summcrfield's solicitude to avoid not 
 only tiie evil comnnmications of those, who were evidently 
 the corrupters of good manners — but likewise all unneces- 
 sary conversation with tlie professors of rehgion at times 
 
 K 
 
110 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 or on topics not convenient. The following item is quoted 
 for the purpose of accompanying it with a remark which, 
 although it may be disregarded, need not be taken amiss : 
 "after preaching was over, I huiried home to my closet, 
 lest I should lose the blessing by conversing with any 
 one." Would that christians in general, and Methodists 
 in particular, had in them a disposition to " do likcAvise." 
 How frequently are the good desires, and holy feelings 
 derived during divine service, dissipated by that frivolous 
 conversation — or at best, that semi-religious twattle, 
 Avhich is so often heard on the breakmg up of our congre- 
 gations. It is stated m the Life of the well known Mr. 
 Henry Longden of Sheffield, that, in consequence of a re- 
 mark once made to him on this subject by a wortliy Qua- 
 ker, the man of God, just named, always made it a rule 
 with himself and family to depart diiectly, and in silence, 
 from his place of worship to his home. 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 HI 
 
 SECTIOJT VII. 
 
 Controversy about the Sacrament — the Clones party — Sum- 
 merfteld becomes a popular preacher — preaches almost inces- 
 santly — ministerial anxieties — travels and addresses large 
 auditories in Ireland with great success. 
 
 A LITTLE before this period, an important question, which 
 had previously distracted the Society in England, and 
 which was amicaljly settled in America in the year 1784, 
 was legally mooted in Ireland ; — I aUude to the disputed 
 propriety of administering the Sacrament of the Lord's 
 Supper in the Methodist chapels, and by ministers not re- 
 gularly ordained according to the fornuila of tlie church 
 of England. I have no disposition, in this place, to go 
 over the grounds, or into the merits of this really perplex- 
 ing question ; suffice it, however, here to observe, that it 
 assumed so serious and agitated an aspect, that l)ad men 
 rejoiced, and good men were alarmed, at the prospects of 
 Methodism in Ireland. Two parties being thus imhappily 
 created, that wliich originated in a mere question of dis- 
 cipline, soon \i£came a matter of property, and ultimately 
 of law : for as the chapels were genei ally settled upon trust 
 .deeds, although at the same time in connexion with the 
 
U2 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 Conference, the major sentiment of the trustees inclining, 
 in different places, respectively to one side or the other, 
 brought the subject into the justiciary courts of Dubhn. 
 Although the trials, which lasted some time, were con- 
 ducted against the Conference, with equal talent and acri- 
 mony, it was eventually ruled, that the jurisdiction of the 
 English Conference had been established in Ireland, by 
 the recognition of a delegate commissioned therefrom, as 
 president of the Irish conferences. Here, however, the 
 m^atter did not end ; the waves of opposition had rolled 
 too boisterously, to subside in a moment : a new party was 
 formed, designated indifferently from Clones, the head 
 quarters of the opposers, or from Mr. ^verill, an influential 
 leader thereof. I would willingly have avoided all far- 
 ther allusion to this unpleasant schism, were it not material 
 to notice, First, the pecuhar circumstances in which Mr. 
 Summerfield was placed, from the frequent contact into 
 which he was brought with the seceders, by the intersection 
 of their respective spheres of operation ; and moreover, 
 the fact, that he was not only tempted by various indirect 
 means to join the Clones' party, but actually solicited by the 
 leader to enrol himself amongst them. Secondly, because 
 it was the opinion of a large proportion of the Society in Ire- 
 land, and by implication apparently of IMr. Summerfield 
 himself, that he w^as raised up by God, especially at this 
 juncture, to counteract the mischievous consequences of 
 such a division : and it must be admitted, that, when ever} 
 thing is taken into the account, it was neither presumptu- 
 ous in him, nor fanatical in his friends, to come to such 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 113 
 
 ii conclusion. With reference to his means of judging the 
 merits of the case, it may be observed, that while the trials 
 were going on in Dublin, he was an anxious and sedulous 
 attendant at the courts ; so that he was thoroughly inform- 
 ed of all tlie legal evidence on both sides. Of his respect, 
 foibcarance, and prudence toward the opposers, let them- 
 selves be the judges, or let the pages of his diary testify : 
 — though I shall mtroduce as few of the entries relative to 
 this topic, as may be compatible with a dehneation of his 
 ministerial progress. 
 
 His popularity at tliis time, and under the above named 
 circumstances, placed him between the horns of that 
 dilemma, upon one or other of which a sensitive man's 
 feelings are sure to be impaled, even if nothing worse 
 befal him. In consequence of some slanderous remarks 
 which had been made concerning him to Mr. Stewart, he 
 resolved to lay aside his public labours in Cork, for the 
 present, and even to give up an engagement to preach, 
 which he had made there : this was August 2Sth. Next 
 morning, while travelling on the steam boat to Cove, he 
 observes, " my mind was much led out into the case of 
 Jonah ; like him, I was fleeing from the Lord's work, in 
 wliich I should have been engaged to-morrow, — being 
 appointed for Douglas. I prayed that my God would 
 pardon this my sin ; I would gladly have returned to 
 Cork, if I could have done so ; however, I vowed to Him 
 that I woidd not again shrink from the cross, and anew 
 committed my soul and body into his hands." 
 K 2 15 
 
114 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 A few days afterwards he was distressed by the injudi- 
 cious affection of several of his friends, who, when he had 
 done preaching at Passage, "dragged him in different direc- 
 tions," and as he could not go with all, some were offended ; 
 but, as he justly exclaimed, " what could I do ? If I could 
 leave an arm here, and a leg there, <fcc. I would. — My 
 God, keep me very, very, very humble I I told them that 
 I feared they would ruin me, by making me think of my- 
 self above measure, and begged, if they loved me, they 
 would desist." Let the friends of popular young ministers 
 affectionately consider this. If it might not with truth be 
 affirmed that Summerficld was absolutely insensible to 
 such adulation, it cannot be denied that he was as little 
 improperlj'^ affected by it, as perhaps any human being, in 
 his circumstances, could be. 
 
 His dislike of participating in any engagements, which 
 were not exclusively spiritual in their object or tendency, 
 has been repeatedly noticed. On the 1st of September, after 
 mentioning the kind entertainment which he met with in 
 a respectable family, he adds — " After breakfast, spent a 
 good part of the forenoon, in singing, and playing sacred 
 music. But oh ! how unlike the song of Moses and the 
 Lamb !" In the afternoon, he was induced, much against his 
 inchnation, to join a boating party, which had nearly been 
 comiected with fatal consequences ; T use his own words : 
 ■ — " I am not fond of this Idnd of amusement ; but I could 
 not refuse. We were sixteen in number ; and were most 
 providentially preserved from a watery grave ; being 
 
REV, JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 115 
 
 thrown into the most mimment danger, and glad to get to 
 the shore, sti'uggUng through the water on a bank of mud 
 and quicksand, which nearly destroyed us : 
 
 ' 0 ! how shall I with equal warmth, 
 The gratitude declare, 
 That glows within my ravished heart V " 
 
 He was now frequently placed in the way of the Sepa- 
 ratists, sometimes visiting at their houses, and even hearing 
 their preachers. In allusion to one of them, occurs the 
 following remark : — " He speaks with the tongue of an 
 angel, and I am afraid to say wuth some, that God has 
 not sent^Jiim ; perhaps it is to provoke our Conference 
 preachers to more zeal and earnestness. After supper at 
 Mr. Coxe's, I prayed with the family, and we parted," It 
 may be proper to take this opportunity of mentioning the 
 fact, that numerous references to kindnesses received in 
 the family of the gentleman last named, especially from 
 Miss Coxe, occur in Mr. Summerfield's diary about this 
 period. 
 
 The following day, he was invited to meet an eloquent 
 Clones preacher at the house of a friend. On his arrival, 
 he found thirty persons present, himself and one lady 
 being the only adherents to the Conference. " The moment 
 
 I entered the room," says he, " Mr. rose to salute me. 
 
 I perceived that I had been the subject of discourse before 
 I came, and was fully expected. After a pause of a few 
 
116 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 minutes, Mr. commenced his discourse to me on the 
 
 subject of the separation, and wished to convince me, that 
 I was not a friend to the estabhshment. 
 
 ' Oh what a strife about a name !' 
 
 I fear the substance is lost b}^ many, while they pursue 
 
 the shadow. I was much disappointed in Mr. . How 
 
 unlike John Wesley ! No serious discourse, no Christian 
 experience, no edification." Alas ! to how many ministers 
 of the Gospel, besides the one in question, are these regrets 
 applicable. 
 
 He was now engaged almost incessantly, at one place 
 or another, preaching the word with increasing acceptance ; 
 l)ut the struggles of his mind respecting the probabihty of 
 his receiving a call to the work of the ministry m the re- 
 gular manner, and his providential situation at this thne, 
 were strong and frequent. He was, hideed, placed in a 
 most delicate and difficult predicament : Conscious, that 
 while he pursued his present course, he v. as neglecting, in 
 some degree, his duty to Mrs. Barnes, who however treated 
 him with great liberality, and at the same time anxious!}^ 
 looking for some opening whereby God wotild bring him 
 more fully into the ministry — that blessed work for which 
 his ardent soul panted to be entirely given up ; — Oh my 
 God I " says he, " willing as I am to be spent in thy 
 service, thou knowest I often cry out — ' send by wliom 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 117 
 
 thou wilt send, but not by me'— and yet thou hast lepUed, 
 ' my grace is sufficient for thee 
 
 He had a great unwilhnguess that liis father should hear 
 him preach, and had given up one appointment on that 
 account. On the 15th of September, he preached in 
 Blackpool Chapel, from Rom. viii. 32. Messrs. Waugh 
 and Stewart sat with him in the pulpit. But, on this occa- 
 sion, he remarks, " I never was so embarrassed £is I found 
 myself — I never disliked my own discourse more ; I hid 
 my face afterwards, and ahuost vowed, I would never 
 again stand up to preacli. ' Oh the infirmity of man ! — 
 unwilling to be humbl'^d — dissatisfied if he cannot please 
 /iimse//inser\-ingGod! The congregation was large ; and, 
 added to the perturbed state of his feelings on this account, 
 what was liis surprise to learn on his arrival at home, that 
 his father had been one of his hearers ; this discovery, and 
 the recollection of his defects, abashed him a good deal. 
 His father, however, assured him that he had been profited ; 
 and a pious man, to whom he mentioned his temptation to 
 desist from preaching, warned him m God's name not to 
 do it. Next morning he went to preach at Patrick-street 
 Chapel. Here he exempUfied the danger of relying too 
 much upon present " frames and feehngs," without taking 
 into the account other evidences of the divine favour. The 
 following, and several similar statements, prove in Mr. 
 Summerfield's case, as m many others that might be men- 
 tioned, how emphatically it may be asserted, that he who 
 has '•' abundance of revelations." needs no other — needs no 
 
118 
 
 Memoirs of the 
 
 sharper thorn in the flesh — no messenger of satan more 
 tormenting and harassing than this — tiie perpetual buffet- 
 ing of the temptation to seek his own glory, while he is 
 promoting God's. But to quote the entry referred to — "If 
 ever the enemy was permitted to buffet me, surely this was 
 the time. I had my thoughts taken from me, and in this 
 state 1 began to roam, I know not where : I would have 
 given all the world to have been out of the house ; and 
 after J had concluded, I remained till all the people had 
 retired, that I might escape home unperceived. My God, 
 is this from thee ? Oh ! my Father, send by whom thou 
 wilt send, but not by me ; I cannot — I cannot preach I 
 Perhaps God has witlidrawn his hght from me ; I know 
 I might have been more faithful ; but oh ! my God ! yet 
 bear with me. I did dedicate myself to thee ; but if thou 
 hast nought for me to do, remove me out of this world 
 altogether ; I only wish to live to promote thy cause !" 
 Surely these agonies of anxiety ought to have been some- 
 what allayed, by the consideration, that his preaching was 
 accompanied, not only by tlie power of God, but by the 
 applavise of men, and abundantly rewarded by the affection 
 of the people of God — hideed sufliciently so to tempt the 
 vanity and ambition which is in every human heart. 
 That Summerfield had a sincere desire to do the work of 
 an Evangelist in simplicity, was abundantly evident to 
 others — but he did not know himself fully at this time. 
 " Who can understand his errors? Cleanse thou me from 
 secret faults !" Psal. xix. 12. It may be proper to add 
 an item relative to his very next sermon : — " I preached to 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 119 
 
 a large congregation, on these words, ' Come now, and let 
 us reason together,' &.c. Isaiah i. 18. God wonderfully 
 assisted me ; he again returned to my help, and it was a 
 season of blessing to all our souls — Olory to God !"' 
 
 Every incident that reminded him of the venerable 
 founder of Methodism, seems to have excited in his mind 
 strong desires to emulate the labours of that illustrious 
 man. In a collection of wax figures Avhich he was taken 
 to see at Cork, nothing interested him so much as " that 
 man of God, John Wesley." Again, in the subjoined 
 graphic sketch : — " I could not help thinking how like a 
 travelling preacher I was just then : a boy, whom I had 
 hired, walked beforq. me with my travelling bag, like a 
 preacher's portmanteau, and I was hurrying after to meet 
 immortal souls, who were waiting for me. John Wesley 
 rushed on my mind. — Oh ! that I had his spirit, his zeal, 
 his piety,— then indeed I should be a burning and a 
 shining light in the world." Again : — " I have now preach- 
 ed six times this week ; and j^et wlmt is thi^ to tlic j^eal 
 of a Wesley or a Coke ?" Surely, when we regard the 
 " more abundant" labours of this devoted man, there was 
 much propriety in the designation, " Young Wesley,'' which 
 was frequently applied to liini at this and an after period 
 ©f his career. 
 
 In connexion with a previous remark relative to his diffi- 
 dence in the presence of his father, (himself an occasional 
 preacher,) I cannot forbear transcribing the following pas- 
 
120 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 sage : — " For the fiist time, I took up a cross which I had 
 not before borne; namely — preaching where my father 
 was, to my knowledge, a hearer ; he w-alked with me to 
 the chapel, and I could not refuse his request. He sat just 
 imder the pulpit, and I observed that he wept all the tune." 
 Some sons inake their fathers weep bitterly, but these 
 were tears of joy and love. 
 
 So interesting was the appearance and so fascinatmg 
 the eloquence of this young evangelist, that many persons 
 who had never heard a Methodist preacher, and probably 
 Avould not have been prevailed upon to hear any other, 
 attended the preaching of Mr. Summerfield in the neigh- 
 bourhood of Cork. Whether, however, these were church- 
 men, or CathoUcs ; persons bigoted against Methodism, or 
 mere men of the world ; — all were delighted and edified by 
 the fervour and simplicity of his sermons. While he 
 laboured to acquit his conscience in speaking fuitlifully to 
 all w^ho heard him ; with tlie meekness of wisdom he 
 sought to tuin to profitable account even the slanders of 
 foolish or wicked men : — " May I never," says he, on one 
 occasion, — " forget the caution which a false accusation 
 from the Clones' party has given me. Oh ! how happ) 
 we should be, when we hear our faults fi om our enemies : 
 our friends seldom tell them to us ;— too seldom." 
 
 Under the date of 28tli September, there is an entry whicli 
 seems to point to the anniversary of his spu itual birth-day : 
 — « I recollect it was this night twelve months, that I 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 121 
 
 joined the Methodist Society ; and so God has kept me 
 one year ! — Oh ! how unfaithful J have been ! My God 
 forgive — forgive the past ! Oh ! may I be more faithful 
 in time to come ! one year ! oh ! eternity I — This evening 
 I renewed my covenant with God ; may He who could 
 keep me one year, keep me for ever /" One year only, 
 since he became a member of the Methodist Society — yet 
 such a preacher, that he even dreams (as he did a few- 
 nights previous to this) that he is before the Lord Lieu- 
 tenant and his Lady, in a Palace or a Cathedral ! — But 
 oh ! how truly and sincerely self humbling are his acknow- 
 ledgements this day. He is now alone with his God, and 
 the tempter does not dare to disturb liim on this occasion. 
 On the following morning, he took his leave of the con- 
 gregation in Patrick-street, from these words : — " Keep 
 yourselves in the love of God, looking for the mercy of o\ir 
 l^ord Jesus Christ unto eternal hfe." Jude, v. 21. He tlien 
 wrote in his diary — " This day is the beginning of a new 
 year with me ; the morning of this new year I have been 
 found in the service of my Master. Oh ! my God, where 
 shall I be in the morning of my next year ! — But above 
 all, where shall I be in the morning of the resurrection ?" 
 
 Towards the begimiing of October, he visited Fermoy, 
 and preached in the Court House to the largest congre- 
 gations ever seen in that place. On his arrival, he repre- 
 sents liis soul as having been in the happiest frame he 
 almost ever remembered ; indeed, great grace seems to 
 have rested upon him day by day ; and yet such were the 
 humbling views which he had of his own weakness and 
 T, 10 
 
122 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 darloiess, that in the midst of blessings from above, he 
 writes, " Read Mr. Wesley's sermon, ' The Almost Chris- 
 dan' — my own experience !" 
 
 Clomnel and Waterford were next visited by him ; and 
 during the' week which brought him to the latter place, he 
 had travelled on horseback seventy miles, and preached i, 
 seven times. He was really itinerating now. Sir Walter i 
 Scott has somewhere observed — truly enough — " that no 
 person, whatever be his condition, who rides a horse, ought 
 to be either unable or unwilhng to rub him down, &c. in 
 the lack of a groom." This sentiment is far from being 
 inapplicable to the case of Methodist preachers ; — at all 
 events, it is pleasing to find, that although a novel, it was 
 not, when necessary, a repugnant duty with Summerfield. 
 In one instance, occurs this item : — " Cleaned down my 
 horse." It would be difficult to say, whether that finical- 
 ness of manners, which unfits some preacliers for driving a 
 nail, or dressing a nag, if necessary, or that thoughtlessness 
 which allows some of their entertainers to neglect these 
 and similar httle duties, is most reprehensible. 
 
 He was received at Waterford by the Rev. W. Stewart, 
 the highly esteemed superintendant preacher of that place. 
 To this man of God, in whom Summerfield found a true 
 friend, he soon became ardently attached, and numberless 
 are the expressions of regard and endearment which, in 
 connexion with his name, occur in the diary. This affec- 
 tion, so characteristic of Summerfield's attachments, was 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 123 
 
 reciprocated by his friend ; and I am happy, that a com- 
 munication from Mr. Stewart, while it affords me an op- 
 portunity of expressing personal obUgation and respect, 
 furnishes, at the same time, the following interestmg notice of 
 Summerfield's introduction at Waterford. " He came from 
 Cork recommended to me," says Mr. S. "as a local preacher, 
 by the late Rev. W. Copeland, who was then stationed at 
 Cove ; and who remarked, in reference to Brother Sum- 
 merfield's talents for the ministry, that if he were not a 
 star of the first magnitude, he at least promised to be one 
 of the first brilliancy. We were much delighted with him 
 in Waterford. He preached for us several times ; and his 
 sermons discovered a depth and extent of scripture know- 
 ledge, and Christian experience, much beyond his years. 
 This, together with his marmer, style of delivery, and very 
 youthful appearance, attracted great congregations, who all 
 seemed edified and impressed ; and retired, wondering at 
 the grace of God manifested in his person, his preacliing 
 and his prayers ; and readily re-echoing the common sen- 
 timent respecting him — ' He is a prodigy 
 
 Besides the crowds of ordinary hearers attracted by his 
 popularity, many persons of rank and influence went to 
 hear him; and in one instance, the Rev. Mr. Fleury, son of 
 the Archdeacon of Waterford, sat with him in the pulpit, a 
 mark of respect not often shown to the Methodist preachers ; 
 but, above all, God was eminently present in 'he congre- 
 gations. 
 
124 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 It must be regarded as a felicitous cu:cuinstance for Mr. 
 Summerfield at this time, that while he was in the habit 
 of receiving numerous letters of invitation, and indeed of 
 commendation, from ministers of the gospel, his corres- 
 pondents were men of experience in the ways of religion, 
 able and willing to give him the best advice with reference 
 to his spiritual prosperity. Letters lying before me, written 
 by the Rev. Messrs. Hamilton, Cooper, Robinson, Matthews, 
 Cobain, Stewart, <fcc. all breathe the same spirit. Brief 
 extracts from the two last will exhibit the bearing of the 
 whole : — Rev. E. Cobain — " Oh ! what shall I say to one 
 I love so dearly ? Lie at the foot of the Cross — Keep close to 
 the Bible — sit loose to the praise of men — If any good be done, 
 sink in the dust before God, and give him all the glory." 
 Rev. W, Stewart — " If I had only one advice to give you 
 on the subject of preaching, it would be — preach Christ 
 and him crucified, and a free, full, and present salvation, 
 through faith in his blood ; — whether you preach to chil- 
 dren or grown persons, to the rich or to the poor, to saints 
 or to sinners, to the crowded auditory or the humble few, 
 let this be your theme — Jesus and his salvation — salvation 
 from sin," &c. <fcc. 
 
 On Sunday, the 8th of November, he preached at Cove 
 liis ^rs< Missionary Sermon. He undertook the duty with 
 fear and trembling, but God aided him, and the collection 
 was larger than on any previous occasion. On the fol- 
 lowing Sunday, he preached for the same purpose at 
 Waterford, and notwithstanding that it rained heavily at 
 
REV. JOHN SUMSJERFIELD. 
 
 125 
 
 the time of service, the collection was double the amount 
 of the preceding year. 
 
 After preaching at Ross, one evening, to a large congre- 
 gation, he thus alludes to an unpleasant interruption : — "the 
 devil did not Uke my sermon ; he annoyed us by a drimken 
 man, who threatened to pull me down; some of the hearers 
 dragged him away, and Satan was disappointed." A very 
 proper representative of his Satanic majesty, — a drunken 
 man ! But the devil himself, though he sometunes chooses 
 (0 be thus " disguised in liquor," is always sober within : 
 — wovdd that all his subjects were ; then would there soon 
 be fewer of them : indeed, his kingdom would be in 
 greater danger than by the extinction of any single sin ; 
 for this is the " mother of thousands,"— to borrrow for it the 
 trivial name of one of the most beautiful Uttle wild-flowers* 
 that grows on the rocks of Matlock in Derbysliire. How 
 often has a similar scene been presented in a Methodist 
 chapel ! a brawling, staggering, hiccupiiig drunkard, half 
 blind, and more than half mad, threatening to pull down 
 the preacher ! Is there a breathing animal in human shape 
 so great in his own eyes, or so contemptible in the eyes 
 of others, as a drunkard — in his glory ? If he could see 
 himself Avith their eyes, he would be fit to pluck out his 
 own, that he might never again look them in the face. 
 
 Having left Waterford, he visited successively Carrick. 
 
 * Antirrhinum Cymbalaria. 
 
 l2 
 
^26 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 Piltown, Cloninel, Cashel, [where he went to look at 
 "that wonder of art, the rock of Cashel, where heathenism, 
 and afterwards popish idolatry, held sway ; the great Dr. 
 Coke trod the same ground before him, and he felt pecuhar 
 emotions on the reflection that the doctor's footsteps had 
 been where he. had the honour to tread ;] Thurles, Tem- 
 plemore, Roscrea, Shinrone, Birr, and Mountratb, and 
 arrived at liis father's house in Cork on the 23d of De- 
 cember ; having travelled more than three hundred miles, 
 and preached, on an average, seven times a week, since he 
 left home. He was most cordially received at Cork by 
 his " well beloved" friend the Rev. S. Wood, who tlirec 
 months before had wished him " God speed," and parted 
 from him with a " farewell kiss" at Waterford ; and who 
 now intimated to him that he should not let him be idle. 
 
 This section may with much propriety be closed witli 
 the reflections with which Mr. Summerfield himself con- 
 cluded the year 1818 : — " This is the last day of the old 
 year. Oh ! what shall I say to my God for all his goodness 
 to me in the past year. I am at a loss for expression. My 
 heart is too full. In this one year, I have first prayed in 
 pubUc, and begun to preach, and preached in the metro- 
 polis of Ireland, in our largest chapel, and at the most 
 pubUc time ! — Oh ! my God, may I grow up into Thee 
 more and more, in all my ways. — May I be spent for 
 Thee, who wast spent for me — may I glorify Thee con- 
 tinually. Attended the Watch night. I was to have ex- 
 horted, but I did not feel my mind free to do so, and hid 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 127 
 
 myself in the chapel. Mr. DooUttle spoke suitably on 
 watch nights, and mentioned three in the Bible — the 
 Egyptian watch night, when the Jews were deUvered— 
 our Lord's watch night in the garden — Paul and Silas's 
 watch night." 
 
126 
 
 MEMOIRS or THE 
 
 SECTION VIII. 
 
 Returns to Dublin — fopularity increases — dedicates himself 
 afresh to God — visits Cork — his fervour — polemical dis- 
 cussion—falls from his horse — abundance of his labours — 
 receives a Conference appointment — Missionary speech. 
 
 The year 1819, found Mr. Summerfield in Dublin, the 
 friend and favourite of all the influential Methodists in that 
 city, as well as of many others, — his popularity just setting 
 in with all the fulness and freshness of its spring tide. 
 Under these circumstances, it is no wonder that the excite- 
 ment occasioned by his labours during the day, should 
 aiTect his imagination by night ; and accordingly, as before 
 observed, he was liable to dream about those things which 
 60 unceasingly occupied his waking hours. Notices to this 
 effect, repeatedly occur among his memoranda : the follow- 
 ing has reference to January 7th : — " I had a dream to night, 
 to warn me not to be high-minded, but fear." This dream 
 may be thought at least a very seasonable one, when con- 
 sidered in connexion with the fact, that three days before, 
 he had preached to two thousand five hundred persons, 
 and " felt no fear of man." Great men and good men 
 have experienced very opposite emotions when standing in 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 129 
 
 the presence of their auditories. Perhaps, generally 
 speaking, the spectacle of an immense multitude to one 
 who can speak to them, is only so far overawing as to ren 
 der the sublime exhilaration of spirit more intense by that 
 sweet and solenm restraint, under which the mind rises, 
 instinctively, in proportion to the pressure upon it ; while 
 the effusion of itself, with all its burthen of thoughts and 
 feelings, into the bosoms of thousands, aU eye, and ear. 
 and heart, is better ordered and more effectual, than if it 
 broke loose, and flooded ihern, and lost itself, for wEint of 
 regulating bounds and controlling influences. 
 
 On the 9th of January, he again left Dublin to fulfil 
 several pulpit engagements ; at the end of the first week 
 he found himself at Newagh, having travelled ninety-six 
 miles, and preached ten times. — Jfinety-six miles, and ten 
 sermons, in seven days ! He went with the speed of a chariot 
 wheel down hill, till the axle catches fire — and it did catch 
 fire, and consmned the vehicle at last. On the 20th, after 
 speaking three hours, he observes, " I now for the fijrst time 
 lost my voice ; the groans and cries for mercy were beyond 
 description ; I could say no more, so I dismissed them with 
 a promise to preach in the morning — may God help me." 
 Notwithstanding, therefore, that his voice had been thus 
 taken from him in mercy, the next morning foimd him in 
 the pulpit at 8 o'clock ; and in the evening he was at Pallas, 
 where, after speaking for two hours, he was obUged to 
 desist ; and moreover constrained to confess, " I never was 
 so ill in my Ufe." According to his promise, however, ill 
 17 
 
130 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 as he was, he preached the following morning, though his 
 " body almost refused its functions," and he rather " cried 
 aloud," than spoke as he was wont : — it would be painful 
 here to detail the suflferings which constituted the natural 
 sequel of such agonies of extacy. 
 
 Now who would have dared to have quenched such a 
 spirit ? yet to those who may be seduced to follow his ex- 
 ample, it may not be improper to give a word of caution. 
 This confessedly is delicate ground ; but why not make a 
 stand upon it in the fear of God ? whilst the cause and 
 glory of the Redeemer was most emphatically the primum 
 mobile of Mr. Summerfield's zeal, yet might there not be 
 something of himself in these preternatural exertions ? it 
 could not all be of the Lord. It would be wrong to speak 
 dogmatically on so tender a point ; but such is the opinion 
 of one of the most pious and judicious individuals with 
 whom I am acquainted ; who however observed, that he 
 should almost fear to utter such a sentiment, lest it should 
 be mistaken, or misrepresented, or abused. Who, after 
 reading the accounts above, can help thinking, that on 
 such occasions, if amidst the whirlwind, and earthquake, 
 and fire, he could for a moment have covered his face, and 
 in the silence of his spirit have listened, he might possibly 
 have heard a " still small voice," saying, " who hath re- 
 quired this of thee V 
 
 And yet, amidst all these labours, he records his resolu- 
 tion : — " I am determined to begin this week with Ii\ang 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 131 
 
 more in my room, and in my bible ; I have lost much in 
 this respect ; and I am too apt to walk out, and trifle my 
 precious — precious time !" He had a few days before 
 laudably "made up his mind against Sunday dinners from 
 home." 
 
 It is matter of satisfaction to transcribe the following 
 passage, although somewhat ditJuse, from the entry which 
 he made in his Diary on the 31st of January. It shows 
 how his whole soul was on the stretch, to be entirely de- 
 voted to God. — " This is my birth day ; oh I what matter 
 have I for shame and confusion of face ! Wlien I look back 
 on myself, I see great cause for self-abasement — I see that 
 ever since I began to preach, my time has not been im- 
 proved ; occupied in visiting, (the destruction of some of 
 our young preachers whom I could name,) and travelUng 
 from place to place ; mixing necessarily with various com- 
 panies of people, and not being guarded agauist that levity 
 which creeps inadvertently upon me ; — all these combined 
 have produced a disUke to closet duties, meditation of the 
 word, and prayer. Though I feel with shame my short 
 comings, yet I am thankful that God has not given me 
 over to hardness of heart ; my conscience is not yet seared 
 as with a hot uon. I find, that if I look for, and expect 
 my God to own my labours, I must live a life different 
 fiom most of oxu: preachers, for whom my heart melts. 
 Oh, Zion ! oh. Heaven ! — thy cause ! thy cause ! thy 
 great concern ! and yet how httle it seems to occupy their 
 attention ! With regard to many of them, it seems to 
 
 M 
 
130 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 as he was, he preached the following morning, though his 
 " body almost refused its functions," and he rather " cried 
 aloud," than spoke as he was wont : — it would be painful 
 here to detail the sufferings which constituted the natural 
 sequel of such agonies of extacy. 
 
 Now who would have dared to have quenched such a 
 spirit ? j'^et to those who may be seduced to follow his ex- 
 ample, it may not be improper to give a word of caution. 
 This confessedly is delicate ground ; but why not make a 
 stand upon it in the fear of God ? whilst tlie cause and 
 glory of the Redeemer was most emphatically the primuvi 
 mobile of Mr. Summerfield's zeal, yet might there not be 
 something of himself in these preternatural exertions ? it 
 could not all be of the Lord. It would be wrong to speak 
 dogmatically on so tender a point ; but such is the opinion 
 of one of the most pious and judicious individuals with 
 whom I am acquainted ; who however observed, that he 
 should almost fear to utter such a sentiment, lest it should 
 be mistaken, or misrepresented, or abused. Who, after 
 reading the accounts above, can help thinking, that on 
 such occasions, if amidst the whirlwind, and earthquake, 
 and fire, he could for a moment have covered his face, and 
 in the silence of his spirit have listened, he might possibly 
 have heard a " still small voice," sajong, " who hath re- 
 quired this of thee f 
 
 And yet, amidst all these labours, he records his resolu- 
 tion : — " I am determined to begin this week with living 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 131 
 
 more in my room, and in my bible ; I have lost much in 
 this respect ; and I am too apt to walk out, and trifle my 
 precious — precious time !" He had a few days before 
 laudably "made up his mind against Sunday dinners from 
 home." 
 
 It is matter of satisfaction to transcribe the following 
 passage, although somewhat diffuse, from the entry which 
 he made in his Diary on the 31st of January. It shows 
 how his whole soul was on the stretch, to be entirely de- 
 voted to God. — " This is my birth day ; oh I what matter 
 have I for shame and confusion of face ! Wlien I look back 
 on myself, I see great cause for self-abasement — I see that 
 ever since I began to preach, my time has not been im- 
 proved ; occupied in visiting, (the destruction of some of 
 our young preachers whom I could name,) and travellmg 
 from place to place ; mixing necessarily with various com- 
 panies of people, and not being guarded against that levity 
 which creeps inadvertently upon me ; — all these combined 
 have produced a dishke to closet duties, meditation of the 
 word, and prayer. Though I feel with shame my short 
 comings, yet I am thankful that God has not given me 
 over to hardness of heart ; my conscience is not yet seared 
 as with a hot uon. I find, that if I look for, and expect 
 my God to own my labours, I must live a life different 
 from most of our preachers, for whom my heart melts. 
 Oh, Zion ! oh. Heaven ! — thy cause ! thy cause ! thy 
 great concern ! and yet how Uttle it seems to occupy their 
 attention ! With regard to many of them, it seems to 
 
 M 
 
134 
 
 MEMOIRS or THE 
 
 heart, so that my rejoicing may be, that ' in sincerity and 
 godly simplicity, I may have my convei sation in the world.' 
 May my God enable me to be more circumspect ; and as 
 I commence anew in preacliing, more from study than 
 from art and memory, may my hfe be commenced anew ; 
 and may I die in the service, and reign wath him for ever !" 
 
 How just are the foregomg remarks — how pious the wri- 
 ter's determination ! — There may, however, be excess, and 
 consequently danger, both ways, for ministers. They must 
 not be ascetics, any more than they ought to be merry compa- 
 nions, wasting their animal spirits, and losing theii- gracious 
 fears, even in the society of religious people. " It is not good 
 for man to be alone" — even as a minister, and a stranger to 
 his people in every other character ; nor is it good to have a 
 plurality of associates, so as to dissipate the affections in 
 their diffusion ; but there may be somethmg hke wedded 
 love in the ministerial office, — a family circle, in which he 
 may move, and shine, and lead the way to heaven ; ex- 
 emplifying, as our Saviour did, his doctrines in his hfe, — 
 and making things lovely in reality, whiph in pulpit repre- 
 sentation appear repulsive and hard to flesh and blood. 
 Oh, how good and how pleasant it is to "adorn the 
 doctrine of God our Saviour in all things !" 
 
 The absolute distribution of his time, compels this 
 objection against its imitation by others, that its exempli- 
 fication was soon found impracticable, even by so rigid a 
 devotee as the conscientious Summerfield himself If men 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 135 
 
 will make such fetters for themselves, they ought to make 
 them at least loose enough to correspond \vith Christ's own 
 easy j'oke, and not binding and galling like the ceremonial 
 law, wliich " neither we nor our fatliers were able to bear." 
 There are sins enough both of omission and commission, 
 into wliich the most watchful christian will be hourly ui 
 danger of falliaig, without making occasions for sin, by 
 voluntary obligations which become involimtary from usage, 
 and from which the prisoner who has thus bound his own 
 hands and feet, like Agabus witli Paul's girdle, cannot dis- 
 entangle himself, without l)ringing — not guilt perhaps — 
 but certainly darkness and confusion into his mind. 
 
 His detcrmuiation to choose a text evei-]j day, as a motto 
 for meditation, was a most profitable and easy obligation, 
 iu which there need be no sn.are to entrap the tenderest 
 consciences. He borrowed this from his IMoravian recol- 
 lections. In the congregations of the Bretliren, there are 
 two texts, and lines from certain hymns, appointed for 
 meditation every day in the year. 
 
 The following extract from a letter addressed to Mr. 
 Summerfield by his father, will show how devoutly his 
 beloved parent participated in the common satisfaction of 
 his son's ministerial success. Tlie letter is dated from 
 Cork, February 4th, 1819.—" Take care to dwell in the 
 divmc bosom ; be faithfid in heaven's first concern ; be a 
 firm friend to her bleeding interests ; five much in the 
 closet, and you will be useful in the pulpit. Fol- 
 
136 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 low the God-Man as your example in all things ; 
 keep company with a Fletcher, a Wesley, and a Bax- 
 ter, who will shine us stars in the firmament for ever. 
 In yon, God has given ine my heart's desire ; and my first 
 < oucern on earth is, that God may be honoured in the 
 accomplishment of his grand design, in bringing to glory the 
 lost posterity of Adam ; and my daily prayer is, that you 
 may be the honoured instrument in turning tliousands 
 ;uid tens of thousands to himself; this is not too much lo 
 ask of bleeding love." 
 
 Although his constitution was at this period much shat- 
 tered, his labours were unremitting. On the 9tli of Fe- 
 bruary, amidst notices of floods of heavenly light poured 
 upon certain portions of Scripture, and uncommon sweetness 
 in his noon tide devotions, he incidentally remarks, " My 
 bodily frame is quite decayed ;" and yet ten days after- 
 ward, he notes that in the preceding week he had rode 
 forty-one miles, and preached ten times ! If a man will set 
 his house on fire, and employ himself as long as he can, 
 in throwing his most precious furniture into the flames, what 
 can he expect, but that all will soon be reduced to ashes ? 
 
 On the 14th of February, he preached a missionary 
 sermon at Birr, and collected treble the amount of any 
 former occasion. On the following day, he addressed a 
 large congregation of children at the same place, and 
 j)leased them so well, that at their own desire a collection 
 was made, and they gave — /. He often addressed 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 137 
 
 auditories of young people in after years. Among the 
 Moravian?; he had been accustomed to those services. 
 which are very frequent Avith them, under the denomina- 
 tion of " Children's Meetings,"^ — and m such meetings, no 
 doubt, the seed was sown, which on this very 15th of Fe- 
 bruary was producing good fmit in his own heart and 
 life, and enabling him, having as a child " freely received" 
 of the good word of God, " freely to communicate"' of the 
 same to little children ; — aye, and to obtain an earnest in 
 hand, that it would produce right fruit in due season in 
 some of their hearts. 
 
 On the 27th of Febraary, he arrived safe at liis father's 
 house in Cork ; and decUned an invitation to preach on 
 the following day, because his " body required some rest." 
 And well it might : as on the preceding evening he thus 
 sums up the amount of his labours : — " I have preached 
 now fifty times, since I left Dubhn this time ; which is 
 seven weeks since : and I have in that period travelled 
 three hundred and sixty-two miles up to Cork." A man 
 may be prodigal of God's spiritual gifts, as well as of pro- 
 vidential ones, and in both mstances want must follow 
 waste, — or early exhaustion be the consequence of reck- 
 less profusion. Let any learned and experienced chris- 
 tian minister say, whether a young man— twenty-two 
 years of age, and scarcely twelve months old as a preacher — 
 ihd right to spend and be spent after tliis rate. Travelhng 
 three hundred and sixty-two miles, and preaching fifty 
 times in seven weeks ! — " a frame of adamant, a soul of 
 m2 18 
 
138 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 fire," would be worn out with such jjeipetuity of feverish 
 excitement ; what then could a frail body, with a hectic 
 constitution, do — or rather, what must it suffer, in such a 
 case ? To adopt an elegant simile from my fi iend Mont- 
 gomery, elicited by a perusal of the forementioned entry : 
 " I have seen fire carried in a handful of dry grass, hastily, 
 lest it should burst out into flame, to light a heap of stub- 
 ble, in autumn, — and I have seen it instantaneously con- 
 sumed when appUed to the materials thus collected. Sum- 
 merfield so carried his life in his hands, and though he 
 was enabled to kindle heap after lieap, — at last — and 
 long before his time, as man would say — he was compelled 
 fo let it drop — it fell to ashes — for it was but tinder at the 
 first. Let others be warned, who like him have the holy 
 flame in their hearts, wapt round with the weeds of the 
 body, lest that which burns within, consume that which is 
 without ; and thus become itself extinct (on earth at least) 
 for lack of fuel. It ought to be cherished, not opened to 
 the whole atmosphere at once, any more than suffocated 
 l>y being too closely prest." But this devoted young man. 
 upon whom rested so much of " the spirit and power of 
 Elias," although he lived a dying life, experienced in the 
 sequel as little of death as could consist with a translation 
 from life to iimnortality; — indeed his progress from earth to 
 heaven all but resembled the ascent of the prophet of 
 mount Carmel ; in faith, in labour, in devotion — he " went 
 up in a chariot of fire ;" — who in England — Ireland — 
 America, hath caught his mantle ? 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 139 
 
 Beiiig now at home, he was frequently engaged in busi- 
 ness for his father ; this, and other engagements, led liim 
 frequently to lament his defective performance of many of 
 his birth-day resolutions. Indeed, the task was impractica- 
 ble to hun, as he was circumstanced : and he who attempts 
 to do more than he can, frequently in reality does less, be- 
 cause he spends much of liis strength for nought, and 
 wearies his spirit with fretting and remorse. To these 
 chances the susceptible subject of these pages was inevi- 
 tably exposed ; hence his frequent complaints of losing or 
 mis-spending time, in company, on a journey, or in his 
 father's house. 
 
 A few passages indicative of his spiritual state at this 
 period will be acceptable. Feb. 28. " I grew this day in 
 grace and knowledge ; the sacred page had new beauties 
 and ideas to my soul." larch 4. "My mind has been 
 sweetly exercising faith in Jesus this day, and T see the 
 dawn of day." March 7th. " My Jesus was precious to 
 me this morning ; my heart was melted down, and he 
 gave rae a sweet foretaste of the good things of this day." 
 March 8. I am quite hoarse to day, after yesterday's ex- 
 ertions ; but my Jesus has paid me for it all, by a sweet 
 sense of his love, which I feel upon me."' March 10. " My 
 mind is truly dejected ; for these last two days I have been 
 iji Gethsemane— I long for the time of refreshing — Come, 
 jny Lord, come quickly — I cried unto the Lord ; he heard 
 me, and deUvered me from all my troubles. I seldom had 
 such a pouring out of the divine glory ! Bless the Lord, 
 
140 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 oh ! my soul ; magnify his great name ! — AppUed myself 
 to reading principally in the book." Next morning — 
 " Commenced my Bible again — my mind is much happier 
 this day than yesterday — I have a little faith, a little love, 
 a little labour — oh, my Lord, do thou increase it ?" There 
 is nothing more exemplary in Summerfield's preparations 
 for ministerial labours, than his devoted attention to the 
 Holy Scriptures — he drew water for himself from the well- 
 springs of salvation, and he drew it with joy, that he 
 might refresh his own soul, before he went to call aloud 
 to others — " Ho, evei y one that thirsteth," &c. 
 
 Toward the latter end of March he was seriously indis- 
 posed ; violent pains and retchings of the stomach, accom- 
 panied with other alarming symptoms, led him and his 
 friends to apprehend that danger was at hand. Ill, how- 
 ever, as he was, he neither remitted his studies, nor forbore 
 his pulpit labours, while he could attend to either. He 
 had no mercy upon himself ; nor, as it appears, were any 
 of his counsellors merciful unto him. There is but too 
 much truth in the following extract of a letter, addressed 
 to him by the Rev. S. Steele, dated April 2d : — " I am 
 sorry to find that your health is worse than it was when 
 you were here. Preaching so often in the week, to large 
 congregations, is too great an exercise of body and mind 
 for your constitution — but you will learn to be wise, when 
 it is too late. There are many of the Methodists, who in 
 their godly zeal, would encourage you to preach, until you 
 would drop down dead. But remember, neither God nor 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 141 
 
 man will thank you for what may be called religious 
 stMcjrfe." And yet the main object of this very letter was 
 to solicit his services at Roscrea ! 
 
 On the 13th of April, Mr. Summerfield attended the 
 annual meetuigof the Sunday School Association, in Dub- 
 lin, Mr. Sheriff White in the chair. On this occasion he 
 delivered what himself calls his "maiden speech," for 
 although he had prepared his mind to speak at a missionary 
 meeting some months before, a change in the resolutions 
 prevented him from saying what he intended — indeed 
 what he had prepared — for draughts of both speeches are 
 lying before me — from the latter of which, especially, I 
 would gladly transcribe a specimen, if it were possible so to 
 translate the abbreviations, and follow out the hints, as to 
 present the writer's idea : it would not, however, especially 
 in this instance, be proper to attempt the experiment. 
 
 I am sorry, that among the hundreds of interesting en- 
 I ries in this diary, to wlrich economy of space compels me 
 to omit all allusion, must be ranked the names of many 
 j)laces and persons, which the writer has mentioned with 
 iiflection. To omit the following, would resemble injustice 
 towards both parties : — " April 28. We arrived at Mr. Per- 
 rin's, (at Wicklow,) where we were most cordially received. 
 This family spoil me with too much kindness ; Mrs. Nolan, 
 (he eldest daughter, is the most loving companion I ever 
 met with ; indeed, I know not whom to admire the most ; 
 Mrs. Perrin is a mother indeed." 
 
142 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 Polemical disquisitions are rarely introduced throughout 
 the whole of the voluminous di.ary to wliich reference has 
 heen so often and so complacently made. This remarkable 
 absence of allusion to disputed topics, arose neither from any 
 defection or looseness in Mr. Summerfield's religious creed, 
 nor from any want of ability in him to comprehend or to 
 maintain the beneficent doctrines held by that great body of 
 Christians, with which he was unitr^d : but rather, I. That 
 as his education had not been regularly scholastic, he had not 
 been made to fight his way from error to truth — or rather, 
 perhaps, from one region of truth to another, over the de- 
 batable ground of metaphysical distinctions ; and, II. That 
 as the conversion of his own soul, and a participation of the 
 divine favour, had been experienced by him in consequence 
 of his own simple belief in the record which God has 
 given of his Son ; — so he, immediately beginning 
 
 " To declare to all around, 
 
 What a dear Saviour he had found," 
 
 at the same time exhorting others to flee from the wrath 
 to come, and, as he had done, to lay hold on eternal life — 
 had, in consequence, httle opportunity, and less inclination, 
 to enter into disputations about " things not revealed." 
 
 That he would not shun the discussion of these dogmas, 
 when imperiously challenged thereto, and when to have 
 shrunk might have exposed him to the imputation of 
 cowardice at least, is evident from the following extraordi- 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 143 
 
 nary transaction, the account of wliich, as it is necessarily 
 derived from, will therefore be best introduced in, his own 
 words : — " May 3. Monday, 7 o'clock, morning, preached 
 again, [at Racket's town,] and a gracious season we had 
 indeed; the Lord gave us a new week's blessing. — After 
 visiting some of the brethren, Mr. Waugh and I proceeded 
 to Baltinglass, eight miles. 
 
 Mr. Walker, the great Calvinist preacher, had been 
 here, and indeed was here when we anived. He had 
 preached in the town, and much injured the minds of our 
 jwople ; some weak ones nearly turned aside by the decrees. 
 With pain we heard this account ; and having obtained 
 the sessions-house from Captain Stratford, I preached at 7 
 o'clock, to an immense crowd, an Anti-Calvinist sermon ; 
 the Lord gave me great power and hberty, and I was re- 
 quested to preach again in the morning. 
 
 " May 4. I again preached on the same subject. The 
 weak ones were confirmed, and my Lord shook the strong 
 holds of Calvinism, and maintained his own truth. 
 
 " A challenge was sent me by that party to dispute on 
 the doctrines ; I accepted it, in the name and strength of 
 my God, and for three hours we debated it. They were 
 quite vanquished by the sword of the Spirit, and we left 
 Baltinglass in great prosperity." 
 
 'J'liis, of course, is an ex parte statement ; — there is, how- 
 
144 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 ever, no occasion to question its fidelity, because the writer 
 was incapable of wilful misrepresentation. Besides, the 
 entry was made for his own private use merely ; for Sum- 
 merfield must have known very little of Calvinism, as it is 
 called, had he ever published to the world the triumph in 
 which he appears to have indulged on the above occasion. 
 He may have- vanquished the men with whom he had to 
 fight — and this is what he means — for if he had indeed, 
 with the sword of the spirit, cut the knot of God's un- 
 searchable decrees, and explained the eternal secret of the 
 freedom of the human will, still bound to choose what it 
 approves — surely he ought in mercy to good men, whether 
 Methodists or Calvinists, to have revealed it, and saved 
 millions of millions of pangs and anxieties — to say nothing 
 of time saved from vain disputation on the subject, in all 
 ages to come, as in all ages past, to such characters. How 
 easy it is to make men of straw, and draw them on hur- 
 dles, and hang them, and burn them, either as Methodists, 
 or Calvinists ! Yet these autos da fe, on both sides, are a- 
 impotent as the Guy Faux executions of children on gun- 
 powder plot day, — but they are not so innocent. These 
 remarks must not be tortured into any thing like a re- 
 pudiation of Arminianism, the distinguishing tenets of 
 which the present miter subscribes to, from his heart ; 
 much less must they be regarded as an attempt to relax 
 the sternness of theological truth. It did, however, ap- 
 pear a Christian duty to embrace this opportunity of ex- 
 horting those who profess to draw their weapons from the 
 same armoury — the Holy Scriptures — instead of using 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 145 
 
 them against one anotlier, to turn them against the com- 
 mon enemy. 
 
 On the 13th of May, he had a narrow escape with his 
 life, in consequence of a fall from his horse, just as he en- 
 tered Dublin ; that he was not killed on the spot, nor his 
 horse injured, he gratefully ascribes to the providence of 
 God. Had he been half as much in fear of himself, as he 
 was of his horse, on this occasion, he might have escaped 
 with his life much longer, — and not have died, as he did, 
 by a fall from himself. 
 
 Notwithstanding this misfortune, by which he received 
 serious internal injury, he preached on the fourth day 
 afterwards, to a large congregation, for the benefit of a 
 Female Oi-phan Asylum. The effect of this sermon will 
 not soon be forgotten by those who heard it. He called to 
 mind the affection of his own mother, and the motherless 
 state of his two younger sisters ; the current of emotion 
 thus drawn out of his own bosom, flowed into the current 
 of feeUng which his description drew from the hearts of 
 others ; and the impression became so powerful and general, 
 that utterance failed him, and he sat down, beckoning the 
 children to stand up and finish the plea for their cause witli 
 silent eloquence ! He sat bathed in tears, and expectorating 
 a quantity of blood, which had collected on his lungs since 
 his accident, and which, in connection with his unremitting 
 exertions, brought him, as we shall presently see, to the 
 very gate of the grave. 
 
 N 19 
 
146 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 In addition to all that has been said on the subject of 
 "making rules to live by," see the following reflections, at 
 the close of May 18th : — "I see I have of late neglected my 
 time in an alarming way, and I find that when time is loi- 
 tered away, grace is dechning in the heart. I was much 
 struck with an advice in a magazine, ' to hve by rule' — I 
 have often resolved, and often broken ; in the strength of 
 Christ I will begin again. I am resolved to be in bed at 
 10 o'clock every night, and rise at 4. — 4 — 5 in the morn- 
 ing; 12 — 1 mid day; 5 — 6 evening, shall be hours sacred 
 to God ; for prayer, meditation, and reading his word — no 
 less a proportion of time will do for me : and half 
 past 9 to 10 before retiring. The remainder of my time 
 to be regularly accounted for, and dealt out with circum- 
 spection," &c. What premeditated though unconscious 
 'suicide is involved in these resolutions ! Yet who could 
 have forbidden the self-offering to the Lord ! — but after all, 
 as already intimated, it is as " a living sacrifice, holy and 
 acceptable to God, which is our reasona6Ze service;" we are 
 besought " by the mercies of God," to surrender our bodies 
 — emphatically our bodies, (including our souls with all 
 their powers and affections,) because when the body is burnt 
 out, the sacrifice is complete, as was the case with the 
 victims on the altar in the temple ; — whatever service 
 may be required in the temple not made with hands, from 
 the spirits of just men made perfect, it will not be sacrifice. 
 The sacrifice on earth, then, ought to be made as perfect — 
 as long in endiirance— as possible. It will be in vain to 
 say in defence of such self-immolation as Summerfield's, 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 147 
 
 that the " lire from God" descended and consumed the 
 holocaust at once, hke Ehjah's on Caimel ; for even if 
 this were evident beyond doubt (which it is not) in his 
 case, let others beware lest they destroy themselves as 
 early, by a conflagration from sparks of their own kindling. 
 But what does this example say to those who sacrifice no- 
 thing of themselves — or at best, bring oblations of no value 
 to the Lord's altar ? 
 
 At the close of tlie month of May, he proceeded, accord- 
 ing to invitation, to Waterford, " where," says he, " the 
 friends were glad to see me, and none more so than my 
 beloved brother W. Stewart ; he is an IsraeUte indeed, in 
 whom is no guile." At this place, he was seized with a 
 profuse spitting of blood, to which, indeed, he had become 
 alarmingly subject. His friends were justly frightened, 
 (though himself " felt happy under the afHiction,") and 
 called in an eminent physician, Dr. Poole, who blooded 
 him for the first time, and interdirted him frnjn preaching : 
 this was on the Saturday ; and yet, as Mr. Stewart informs 
 me, he was with difficulty restrauied from appearing in 
 the pulpit on the following day ! 
 
 An event of great importance in the settlement — or 
 rather, as it turned out, the unsettlement of this heavenly 
 minded man, in after hfe, occurred at tliis period. Having 
 in the month of March preceding, been formally proposed 
 to travel as a preacher in the Methodist connexion ; and 
 having satisfactorily answered the questions, usually put 
 
148 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 to candidates for the ministry ; Mr. Summerfield proceeded, 
 with his friend Mr. Stewart, from Waterford to attend the 
 Irish Conference, held in Dubhn, at which city they 
 arrived in safety on the 30th of June. His case was now 
 officially, and anxiously considered ; and it appeared, after 
 very mature dehberation, that the delicacy of his health, 
 at that time, and the consequent improbability of his being 
 long able to endure the difficulties and fatigues of itinerancy 
 in Ireland, forbade the experiment of appointing him 
 forthwith to a circuit. And the Conference was thus 
 induced to suspend the execution of their eager wish of 
 sending him to travel, for another year, hoping that liis 
 health might in the interim be restored. Meanwhile, he 
 was appointed to fill Mr. Maynes' place in Dublin, till that 
 preacher should return, with the other Irish delegates, from 
 the British Conference. "Alas ! alas !" — says he, on 
 receiving tliis appointment, " I know not how I can bear 
 ibis burden ! oh ! Lord, my God, be thou my strength." 
 
 During the Conference season in Dublin, the Annual 
 Meeting of the Methodist Missionary Society was held 
 there, and at which the Rev. J. Edmondson presided. On 
 this occasion, Mr. Summerfield, in moving a vote of thanks 
 to the Enghsh committee, made a speech, which not a 
 little confirmed to the Enghsh preachers present, the reports 
 which they had heard of his piety and his talents. On 
 this, as on a previous occasion, I might remark upon the 
 difficulty, not to say the impropriety, of giving, as a speci- 
 men of a speech, any portion of memoranda merely made 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 149 
 
 to assist the speaker's memory. I shall however give a 
 passage, which refers to a name consecrated in Missionary 
 annals ; it is merely the radical idea, and was beautifully 
 imfolded in passing thiough the speaker's hps, but I con- 
 fine myself to the words of his incipient draught : — " The 
 idea of christianizing the Asiatic world was one which 
 seemed too great for human conception. — Yes, sir, the 
 very idea was one which could only have had birth in 
 an apostle's mind ! But yet there was found a man 
 among the tribes of om- spiritual Israel, possessed of a 
 mind which conceived the grand design : — to the earthen 
 vessel which contained the deposit, men gave the name 
 of Coke ! — heaven will reveal his true name in ' that 
 day !' In his devotedness to the service of his God, and 
 the best interests of mankind, he was equalled by few — 
 surpassed by none .' At the feet of his Master, he laid his 
 wealth, — his ease, — his honour, — his character, — nay, his 
 life itself ! He sacrificed all ! — he was the slave of slaves ! 
 unwearied in the work of heaven, no dangers could in- 
 timidate — no allurements seduce him from his one pursuit 
 — he was hke Paul — hke Wesley, a man of one business ! 
 Ceylon had long been the object of his contemplation, and 
 the fulfilment of his wishes and his prayers seemed now 
 accompUshed ; preparations made, and standard bearers 
 obtained who were wilhng to carry the banners of the 
 cross, he quits his native shore ! You, sir, followed him 
 well nigh to the beach, and little thought to see his face 
 no more ! — But he is not ! — for God took him ! — Not far 
 distant from the promised land, his Master called him 
 
150 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 to a higher mount than Pisgah's top, to vaew the goodly 
 shore : he heard Him say, ' Come vp hither ;' welcome 
 suimnons to his waiting soul ! — The body of this Moses 
 has indeed been hidden from us; but we dispute not 
 concerning it, for we sorrow not as those without hope : 
 we take the Bible in our hands, and inscribe beneath his 
 name, * pleasant in Ufe, and in death not divided !' The 
 dispensation seemed severe to human ken ; to him it was 
 merciful ! His death seemed without pain; his frame was 
 not worn with disease, nor his features distorted with agony; 
 and his body sunk in the flood, as it will arise in the morn- 
 ing of the resurrection — with a blooming, heavenly 
 countenance ! He shall not be forgotten ; for in the day 
 when Christ shall gather up his jewels, Coke shall be col- 
 lected from the ocean's bed, a diamond of the purest 
 water ! — Pardon me, my brethren, I dwell on his name 
 with pleasure; I loved the man — I love his memory still; 
 —you knew his worth, — you know his great reward ; and 
 though no marble urn can boast of concealing his remains, 
 his name is engraven upon all your hearts ; and while 
 unadulterated goodness, ennobling talent, genuine worth, 
 and sterluig piety, shall find one lover among men, the 
 name of Coke shall be preserved from the ravages of time, 
 and finally displayed with all its glories in the archives 
 of the upper and the better world !" 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 161 
 
 SECTIOIf IX. 
 
 Religious experience — resolves to avoid tea parties — preaches at 
 the request of the Earl of Rosse — a dangerous illness — re- 
 sumes his labours, and addresses large congregations — ex- 
 ercises of spirit — loyalty — anxious to visit England. 
 
 Mr. Summerfield, like most other good men who have 
 large experience of the things of God — especially when 
 possessing temperaments as fervent as his own — was sub- 
 ject to many, and often very painful, fluctuations of re- 
 hgious feehng. These variations of the devotional tempe- 
 rature, so to speak, are probably much less imcommon 
 with strong or susceptible minds, than ordinary persons are 
 willing to suppose ; but few, very few indeed, have the 
 faculty to distinguish with that accuracy, or would have 
 the courage to record their discoveries with that fidehty, 
 which characterizes the precious autobiographical sketches 
 of the heart of this interesting individual. Summerfield, 
 while aR his laboui s might seem to be wrought amidst the 
 tempest of an enthusiasm, at once irresistible to liimself 
 and his hearers, was. at the same time, in his " imier man," 
 an exquisite spiritual barometer, graduated with surprising 
 delicacy through the entire scale of religious experienoe. 
 
m 
 
 MEMOIRS OP THE 
 
 To those professors of religion, (if so they may be called,) 
 who are content to live at the zero of orthodoxy, his 
 language must sometimes appear strange indeed ; but to 
 others, who have known sometliing of those " deep things 
 of God," which pertain more or less to every true member 
 of the body of Christ, these alternate elevations and de- 
 pressions, through aU their degrees, are neither uninteUigi- 
 ble nor strange. The most exalted spirit, while com- 
 passed about with the infirmities of the flesh, must never 
 expect to enjoy a perpetually unclouded vision ; much 
 less, an invariable beatitude of feeling. A few passages 
 from the Diary shall be given. 
 
 " June 17. My soul was still more strongly led out after 
 God this morning than of late — Oh ! that I knew where 1 
 might find him. " I view myself as the most abandoned of 
 aU sinners ; I am tempted to wish that I was openly pro- 
 fane, as being in a more likely way to obtain the salvation 
 of God, than in my present state, I know not what to do ! 
 Lord, pity me in my low estate ! Oh, make thyself known 
 imto me !" Here he was beset with a horrible tempta- 
 tion, and appeared surrounded with the blackness of dark- 
 ness itself ; but, lo ! the very next day, the cloud is dis- 
 persed: — "I think," says he, "I see the dawn of eternal 
 day upon my soul ; but I anxiously cry, oh ! when will 
 he fully appear ? — However, by his grace, I am determined 
 to persevere." And presently perseverance had its reward — 
 in the following passage " the true Ught shineth :" — " June 
 30. This has been one of my happiest days ; I have been 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 153 
 
 greatly blessed !" On a review of the dealings of God 
 with the soul, he thus strikingly expresses liimself on the 
 16th of August : — " Many are the consolations, which, in 
 the last three weeks, I have experienced ; but my expe- 
 rience is still variable — one day on the mount, another in 
 tlie garden ; one day, hardly knowing whether I am in 
 the body or out of it ; and perhaps the very next, ready to 
 give up the beginning of my confidence, and fall from the 
 grace of God ; but I bless the Lord that his grace is suffi- 
 cient for me, and in his strength 1 am determined to follow 
 on to know the Lord !" 
 
 During Mr. Summerfield's temporary appointment in 
 Dubhn, notwitlistandiiig that he preached nine, seven, 
 and five times a iceek, he was a good deal engaged with 
 visiting, as must generally be the case with a favourite 
 preacher, especially in a large city. This practice was not 
 only opposed to the rules which he had laid down for the 
 government of his time, but really injurious in its tendency. 
 " I always feel," says he, " that tea parties are as so many 
 fungi to my soul." On the commencement, therefore, of a 
 fresh volume of his diary, he resolved " to turn over a new 
 leaf" — and accordingly entered on its first page the follow- 
 ing resolutions : — 
 
 ''1. J^ever to go out to breakfast — This squanders all 
 the forenoon away, which is the most valuable part of my 
 time. 
 
 20 
 
154 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 " 2 — With regard to dining abroad; as I pmpose rising 
 at 4 in the morning, and remaining in my studies, &c. 
 all day till dinner time, it may not injure me to relax m.y 
 mind, but always take care to bring Jesus with me, and 
 guard against religious dissipation. 
 
 " 3 — Never to breakfast, dine, <kc. abroad on Saturday. 
 
 " 4 — Always to return home after preaching, and never to 
 go back to the family with whom I dined, &c. — This 
 does no good ; keeps the family up, and injures my own 
 health. 
 
 " 5 — Avoid all tea parties, as they are called, as much 
 
 as possible : they seldom do good." 
 
 It was his practice, wherever he visited, to seek the 
 spiritual edification of all present, and he always considered 
 the time as worse than lost when this had not been the 
 case. He several times visited, at her special request, the 
 Hon. Mrs. Butler, in Richmond place : but even here, he 
 resolved to leave a savour of his sacred character behind 
 him ; to which end, he not only recommended family 
 prayer, but set them an example, which there was reason 
 to believe was not in vain. 
 
 The following httle incident is affecting : he was at the 
 quarterly meeting of the Stranger's Friend Society ; — 
 " While calling over the names as they lay in the list, T 
 
RET. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 155 
 
 was much struck, when Mr. Tobias named John Smith 
 
 a silence ensued, and brother Tobias added, — ' before 
 
 the throne of God ;' he died in the last quarter — Oh, may 
 I work while it is called day." The brief significant 
 phrase — " before the throne of God," comes like a voice 
 interpreting the silence that went before. 
 
 On the 15th of September his engagement in Dublin 
 was terminated, by the return of Mr. Mayne from Lime- 
 rick. He next visited Roscrea, Birr, and Parsontown ; on 
 his arrival at the latter place, he foimd the family of the 
 Earl of Rosse had made a request that he would preach 
 at 2 o'clock, in the court-house. With fear and trembling 
 he complied ; the bell-man was sent round to announce 
 the service ; and at the appointed time, he preached to a 
 vast assemblage of the nobility, gentry, and others — many 
 of whom had never before heard a Methodist sermon. 
 At first he was somewhat overawed, but casting his care 
 on the Lord, he felt liis usual liberty, and several of his 
 friends afterwards declared, that they never heard him 
 preach with greater pathos and energy. Although th(; 
 congregation was so large, and composed of all ranks and 
 sects, the most profound attention prevailed, and many 
 appeared much affected. He preached in the evening at 
 the chapel, which was so crowded with strangers, that the 
 regular heaiers, and friends, stood on the outside — all the 
 windows being taken out that thqy might hear. 
 
 On the 10th of October, he again arrived at his father's 
 
156 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 house in Cork ; after having been thoroughly drenched 
 with a day and night's rain on the outside of the coach, 
 which had broken down twice during the journey. He 
 was justly alarmed at the anticipated consequences of this 
 unwonted exposure to the cold and wet, delicate as he then 
 was ; he therefore willingly availed himself of the invita- 
 tion of his old friend, Mr. Edwards, to spend a short time 
 at his delightful residence on Hop Island. He had, how- 
 ever, only been domiciled in this retreat a few days, when 
 the disorder, which had long been growing upon him, in 
 consequence of excessive labour and fatigue, (certain glan- 
 dular obstructions,) came to its crisis. Symptoms of this 
 complaint had for some time appeared ; " but," says he, " I 
 knew not from what they proceeded ; a curling in my 
 tongue, which was a spasmodic affection, often troubled 
 me ; this I have named in other parts of my diary, calling 
 it ' a thorn in my flesh,' which indeed it was ; but this, I 
 never mentioned to any one : all that I remember was, 
 that my tongue doubled in my mouth ;* my mouth itself, 
 and face, were awfully distorted toward my left ear, my 
 
 * Several entries occur of a similar import with the following : 
 — " an unaccountable anxiety from a nerve in my tongue which 
 sometimes prevents my speaking." This singular affection, 
 while it sometimes hindered utterance, was often in a singular 
 manner taken away, seeming to justify the scripture phrase, "the 
 string of his tongue was loosed ;" as though there were a bind- 
 ing nerve, that, by restriction or relaxation, prevented or allowed 
 of speech. 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 157 
 
 breath slopped, and reason forsook her throne; I was just 
 enabled to venture my soul on Jesus, and saw death staring 
 me in the face ; I expected nothing else than dissolution.' 
 On coming to himself, he found his feet in a crock of hot 
 w ater ; the room filled with friends, and amongst them hi-! 
 lather, who had been sent for to see hun expire. He 
 had however brought with him a physician, who after 
 taking two and a half pounds of blood from the arm of 
 liis patient, ordered his head to be shaved, a blister to be 
 applied, and oilier medicmes to be used ; for soiuetime 
 convulsions succeeded one another, with alarming violence, 
 and it was not until the following morning, that the 
 balance which had seemed to weigh life and death again.-f 
 each other, perceptibly preponderated on the side of hope : 
 his numbered days were not yet come to an end, and in a 
 short time convalescence was apparent. It would be injus- 
 tice to the kind family which nursed Iiim in their house ht 
 Hop Island, were I not to record his gratitude in his own 
 words : — " Sunday, October 17th, with the permission of 
 my physician, I rose from my bed ; but dreadfully weak 
 and emaciated ; my father and family, with some kind 
 friends, spent the day with me. Throughout the whole, 
 tlie attention of Mr. and Mrs. Edwards were beyond all 
 description, nor could they be equalled by any other, 
 except Mrs. Cole ; her love to me was wonderful — may 
 the Lord repay them a thousand fold !" 
 
 So great was the anxiety created by the report of his 
 indisposition among his Cork friends, that public prayer 
 o 
 
158 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 meetings (of the inea and women separately) were held 
 on his account : their suppUcations were heard, and the 
 lease of his brief life was again renewed. For hiinself, 
 he says : — " I believe this affliction will have the most 
 blessed effect upon me ; I see the brevity and imcertainty 
 of human life ; I feel more set upon heaven and heavenly 
 things ; my access to the throne of grace is with greater 
 boldness, and my soul is truly melted before the Lord. 
 Oh, that he would now stamp on my softened heart, his 
 own most heavenly image." 
 
 Many were the letters, which, after this affliction, he 
 received from different parts of Ireland, praising God for 
 having again raised up his servant : this description may 
 serve to characterize generally the contents of the whole 
 bundle. A pti sage in one of the Rev. W. Stewart's 
 letters contains the following seasonable advice : — " Preach 
 seldom, that you may preach often— preach short, that you 
 may preach long — and let comparatively few hear you now, 
 that many may hear you hereafter." Amidst the expres- 
 sions of grief and sympathy which his illness called forth, 
 it is painful to know that there existed in some bosoms, 
 emotions of a different character. The " Clonites," who 
 regarded Mr. Summerfield as one of the most influential 
 of their opponents, not only several times announced his 
 death ; but complacently attributed his affliction to a 
 judgement from God, because he had been expected at 
 Waterford, where one of their preachers had been hkewise 
 announced. It was, however, a little thing with him that 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 159 
 
 he should be thus judged of man's judgement : his record 
 is now, witii himself, before the throne of God— and 
 even in the pages of his diary, abundant testimony may 
 be drawn, that he did not so judge concerniiig his 
 enemies. 
 
 On Sunday, November 7th, he resumed liis pulpit ex- 
 ercises. After preaching in the evenmg, he says : — " I felt 
 my soul borne above the world ! it soared very high ! and 
 I sat with Jesus in heavenly places." And at the conclu- 
 sion of the following Sabbath, he remarks, " for the greater 
 part of this week, I can say of a truth, that my peace has 
 flowed as a river." 
 
 Although now on the Conference list of reserve, and 
 therefore filling his several appointments as a preacher, he 
 still considered it liis duty to assist his father, m writing for 
 the concern of which the latter had the management; 
 nevertheless, wishing to be entirely devoted to the work of 
 God, he considered book-keeping " as all lost time" to him ; 
 
 but," adds he, with exemplary propriety, " I remember at 
 ihe same time, that, ' honour thy father,' is a command of 
 him whom I wish to obey :" this was, however, nearly his 
 last implication \vith "counting house business." 
 
 Throughout the whole of December, and even during the 
 following month, the state of his mind within, appears to 
 have resembled in some measure the aspect of nature 
 around liim ; sometimes gloomy and lowering, — the clouds 
 
160 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 hung about his soul, and intercepted his comforts, com- 
 pellijig him to exclaim, " dark— dark— dark ;" at other 
 times, his mental atmosphere was bright and clear, and 
 the sun of righteousness shone out with full lustre. It 
 might appear, indeed, sometimes a little difficult with un- 
 scriptural readers, to reconcile the heavenly manifestations 
 of the love of God m Christ Jesus, which he generally en- 
 joyed, with some of his dark and terrible conflicts and fits 
 of despondency. As before observed, however, there was 
 nothing in his state, (however singular to himself,) beyond 
 what thousands have experienced, and must experience, 
 who look much and closely at the fluctuations of feeling, iii 
 hearts not made perfect in love. A macerated body, united 
 with a spirit of extraordinary intensity, exposed him in a 
 peculiar manner to those besetments which are not uncom- 
 mon with men of a similar temperament. He was often 
 very unnecessarily distressed by dreams, which, however 
 regarded by himself, were doubtlessly the phantasmagoria 
 of a fevered brain. Another evident cause of his painful 
 depressions, was the absence of spiritual manifestations — 
 not of the nature, but in the measure, which his soul desired — 
 for at this period, all the feelings of lais mind, all the ac- 
 tions of his life, were not of the nature of the " old man," 
 which he had long put off, with his lusts — but of the " new 
 man," which he had put on, and whose works were right- 
 eousness'^and true holiness. 
 
 On Sunday, the 19th of December, Mr. Summerfield 
 preached on behalf of the Methodist Missions, at Tralee ; 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 161 
 
 on Tuesday, he spake at great length at the half yearly 
 meeting of the Bible Society ; and on the following evening, 
 at the missionary anniversary. His addresses, on both 
 these occasions, were well received ; and, judging from the 
 sketches extant, deservedly so. 
 
 It may with propriety be mentioned here, that about 
 this period he embraced several opportunities of enlarging 
 his stock of ideas, by attending lectures on natural, intel- 
 lectual, and moral philosophy. 
 
 On the first Sunday morning in the year 1820, he 
 
 preached in Cork to a large assembly : " I was peculiarly 
 
 affected," says he, " under the first prayer ; the Lord gave 
 
 to my eyes refreshing tears ! and I could only sob my 
 
 petition to His throne. He caused all his goodness to pass 
 
 before me, and revealed to me his name ! I felt him 
 
 passing by ! He put his hand on me, and then revealed 
 
 his glory ; he covered me ; — I was lost in the ocean of his 
 
 goodness." And yet the very next day he laments that 
 
 lie " felt no gracious impression," at the Covenant meeting. 
 
 How httle were these vacillations of rapture and agony to 
 
 be taken as proofs that he was in the favour of God — or 
 
 rather that he was otherwise : indeed, in such a case, how 
 
 can a person be sure that these are of God, and those of 
 
 Satan — or of his own mind, or rather of his own body ? 
 
 How wise, and yet at the same time how simple, is the test 
 
 of the divine acceptance laid do\m by Mr. Wesle}', in the 
 
 old methodistic syllogism : — " He that now loves Gotl, 
 o 2 31 
 
162 
 
 MEMOIRS OP THE 
 
 that delights and rejoices in him, with a humble joy, a 
 holy deUght, and an obedient love, is a child of God : But 
 I thus love, delight, and rejoice in God ; therefore, I am 
 a child of God." 
 
 We may unhesitatingly apply to Mr. Summerfield's 
 case, the above rule of sound judgement, which he appears 
 not to have apphed to himself — though he could apply it 
 to the case of others. For instance, after saying of him- 
 self, " I am miserable, miserable, miserable !" he goes on 
 to state how he continued to preach, and how God blessed 
 the word to the experimental salvation of the souls of others, 
 while he himself either had not, or imagined that he had 
 not, such experience ; and if experience of thh kind is to be 
 the only test of reality, and he had it not, does it not foUow 
 that he was under the curse of God as an unpardoned sinner, 
 and must have gone from preaching to perdition had he 
 died at the time 1 Summerfield was undoubtedly in a state 
 oi justification before God, and moreover, was evidently seek- 
 ing to be sanctified wholly, for there is no middle state be- 
 tween guilt and pardon, in which a man may thus serve, and 
 fear, and love God, as he appears reaUy to have done, and 
 have visitations even of joy unspeakable and full of glory, 
 as he says that he had, and as we must beUeve ; and yet 
 all this time be under condemnation, and every moment 
 indanger of hell fire ;— such hypotheses were equally absurd 
 and unscriptural. 
 
 He appears on the whole to have sought his religious 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 163 
 
 exemplar in the celebrated Fletcher, and to the spiritual 
 attainments of that eminently holy man his soul per- 
 petually aspired. " Oh what a saint ! — I would — but 
 scarcely dare, aspire to his attainments ; and yet, Jesus 
 kindly whispers to my inward ear that He has the residue 
 of the Spirit ! — Oh shed it abroad ! come Lord from above !" 
 Such is Summerfield's ejaculation on reading the hfe of 
 his pious predecessor : and in allusion to whom he says, 
 in another place, " I never met with any experience so 
 much a counterpart of my own : I mean his experience 
 just at the eve of his stepping into gospel liberty — I took 
 courage — I kneeled down — I cried to God ! — He drew 
 near — I set the seal of my faith to liis promises of pardon 
 through the death of his Son ; I now wait the seal of his 
 spirit to be appUed to my heart — Lord ! I must — I must 
 believe, and now I" 
 
 The 31st of January, as the reader is already aware, 
 was the amiiversary of Mr. Summerfields birth-day ; on 
 a single page under that date, in the present year, there 
 occur in the diary two entries of so conflicting a character, 
 that they can only be reconciled by the extreme probabihty 
 that a slight mistake may have occurred in dix-iding the 
 matter under the date ; even tliis supposition, leaves diffe- 
 rent entries singularly contemporaneous. After mentioning 
 some conversions wliich, the day before, had taken place 
 under his preaching, he adds — " But what shall I say of 
 myself 1 despair begins to lay hold on me, and for some 
 days I have left off [private] prayer. — My hell increases ! — 
 
164 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 and yet, sometimes, I have a beam of hope ; ia the in- 
 stances I have mentioned above, it seems as if the Lord 
 mingled encouragement amid my despondencies ; and lie. 
 seems unwilling to give me up — Oh, that I knew where I 
 might find him !" This evidently refers to the 30th, for 
 in the next paragraph he writes — " This is my birth-day ! 
 so twenty-two years of my race are accomplished ! — I have 
 felt a good deal of the divine presence with me to day ; and I 
 have solemnly offered myself to Him again." After de- 
 voting hunself anew to God, he adds — " I feel enlivened ; 
 this next year of my Ufe will be the auspicious year, in 
 which I shall be introduced into the kingdom of grace, or 
 of glory ; — which ever it may prove, ' thy will be done.' 
 Amen ! J. Summerfield." Still, in the review of his state, 
 he writes bitter things against himself It may justly be 
 asked — If he was not already in the kingdom of grace, 
 where was he ? It would be blasphemy to say that he 
 was in the kingdom of darkness, and imder the power of 
 Satan ! What was wanting to him ? evidently nothing 
 but some more sensible manifestation that he was in the 
 kingdom of grace. To multitudes, undoubtedly, such 
 manifestation is given, and is given according to their 
 faith ; but there must be other evidences, or a person may 
 awfully deceive himself, as well as harrass his spirit to 
 despair, if he has it not in the degree which he himself 
 expects and prescribes, or in which others have it. It is 
 difficult to avoid yielding to a conviction, on the whole, 
 that much of Mr. Summerfield's misery arose from bodily 
 disease, some probably from satanic temptations, and more 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 165 
 
 than either, and oveiruluig both the former, for his good 
 eventually, — from the strivmg of God s Holy Spirit with 
 his spirit, to bring him, by a necessarily severe discipline, 
 to an entire surrender of himself to the Lord — for, followed, 
 and admired, and flattered, no doubt as he was, — young, 
 inexperienced, and sanguine, — there was continual peril of 
 his being a castaway, after preaching to others, because 
 there was continual temptation to preach himself, as well 
 as Clnist Jesus the Lord, and to glory in liis talents as 
 well as in the cross. 
 
 So deeply and steadily flowed the rivers of peace and 
 blessedness from the throne of God into his soul, at the be- 
 ginning of February, that he writes, " If all my days were 
 spent in as close a communion with God as these were, 
 methinks the change which death would introduce would 
 scarcely be felt. I find I can trust my Father for all tilings ; 
 I can cast my soul on his promise, made through the blood 
 of Jesus, even though the seal of the Spirit should seem 
 long delayed ; I know and sensibly feel, that I am not 
 worthy to be a son of God ; — and if he see fit, for wise pur- 
 poses, to retain me so long in the character of a servant, 
 His will be done. I have prayed with the prodigal, 'make 
 me as one of thy hired servants — this he has exceeded ; 
 he has made me a domestic. He will then increase in me 
 all the good pleasure of his will. He will yet set me on 
 liiglj, even among the princes of his people." Here a 
 blessed " truijt and confidence" in the faithfulness of God, 
 takes place of those " hard saying?." in which he had so 
 
166 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 frequently of late indulged against himself Indeed, it in 
 plain that he was move in his right mind, — more calm, 
 collected, and resigned to the will of God, and less impa 
 tient — though not less earnestly longing for full redemp- 
 tion ; — and for his satisfactory assurance of which, nothing 
 seems to have been wanting but " the seal of the Spirit." 
 The deed of his adoption, was no doubt ratified in heaven : 
 though the roll, such as Bunyan's Pilgrim, Christian, 
 received at the foot of the cross, and which others have 
 received there, was not yet given to Summerfield. 
 
 No occasion has heretofore occurred, requiring the 
 expression of any sentiment in connexion with Mr. Sum- 
 merfield's feehngs as a British subject; nor would the 
 opportunity of making any allusion at all to this matter, 
 have been regarded in these pages, but for the occurrence 
 of a passage in the diary of this devoted individual, which 
 it would be the most manifest injustice to his memory to 
 omit. The writer of these pages would indeed as certainly 
 secure as he would assuredly deserve, the scorn of every 
 honest American, were he, as an Englishman, to cloak or 
 dissemble the fact of Mr. Summerfield's loyalty to his 
 sovereign — to that sovereign who was, undoubtedly, in his 
 personal character, the "most religious king" that ever 
 sat on the throne of Great Britain. George III. departed 
 this life on the 31st of January, 1820. On the 15th of 
 February, the pious diarist writes : — " I cannot but remark 
 on the pohtical state of the times in whicii I live ; the 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 167 
 
 prospect for several earthl}' kings is very gloomy, and 
 yet I fear it will not drive them to seek after a kingdom 
 in the heavens, or a crown of glory that fadeth not away. 
 And so the British throne hath changed its monarch ! 
 George the 3d is counted among the leaves of Autumn ! 
 My heart even yet says ' God bless him I trust to meet 
 him in my Father's house, sheltered from every piercing 
 wind of keen adversity. His son was proclaimed king, in 
 London, on my birth-day. 
 
 The Duke of Kent has also put off the coronet ; he 
 died a few days before his father, and was buried on the 
 Saturday preceding ! When death speaks from palaces, 
 surely subjects should take the warning. And is England 
 alone thus visited ? no : the heir of the French throne 
 has been assassinated by another Ravaillac ! Never did a 
 darker cloud impend over any nation, than this and France 
 at this moment : may I watch the Providence of God ! 
 Some Pella wiU be provided for them that love Him. — M3- 
 father urges me to go to America; he thinks it would 
 greatly improve my health ; if I thought it was the will 
 of God, I would not hesitate ; but I have no light on this 
 subject." 
 
 The destruction which Summerfield, as well as some 
 other good men, anticipated, did not come upon our Jerusa- 
 lem, and therefore the saints were not " scattered abroad" 
 by persecution, — though many were " thrust out," by a 
 
168 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 better spirit, into the wilderness of this world ; and in the 
 sequel, his own way was opened to that mighty field of 
 labour which God had prepared for his servants in the 
 new world : there he was, in due time, hailed and heard 
 in his " father language," as a messenger of good tidings 
 to those western churches, who acknowledge with their 
 brethren all over the world, one spirit — one faith — one 
 baptism. 
 
 From the month of February until toward the middle 
 of May, his labours were divided between Cork, Mallow, 
 Cappaquin, Youghall, Limerick, and Fermoy. To his 
 exertions, must be mainly attributed the acquisition of the 
 site of the Chapel at the latter place ; as the interviews 
 and arrangements with Mr. Walker, the landlord, devolved 
 entirely upon Mr. Summerfield, who had the satisfaction 
 not merely to win the esteem of the gentleman with whom, 
 on the part of the Methodists, he negotiated, but hkewise 
 to see the leases perfected, signed, sealed, and delivered, 
 for a charming plot of ground, fifty feet by forty, at a pep- 
 percorn fine and rent — for ever. 
 
 In consequence of the intensely painful exercises of his 
 mind, he now anxiously longed to visit tlie land of his 
 nativity, " not to preach, but to be instructed in the way of 
 salvation." " I am (says he) Uke Aquila ; 1 want to kno^ 
 the way of the Lord more perfectly." — " I long," says he,^ 
 in another place, " to be in England, where, unknown. 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD 169 
 
 may, without reserve, communicate my almost indescriba- 
 ble state to some one to whom my gracious Lord may 
 direct ! Oh, may he open my way if it please Him !" This 
 prayer was heard and answered. 
 
 22 
 
170 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 SECTION X. 
 
 Arrives in England, and preaches at Bristol — Exeter — attends 
 Conference at Liverpool — entertains thoughts of going to 
 America — embarks for JVeic- York. 
 
 On the 12th of May, 1820, Mr. Summerfield bade adieu 
 to Ireland, and expected presently to set his foot on the 
 English shore ; the vessel, however, in which he sailed, 
 and which was bound for Bristol, being detained by ad- 
 verse winds at Markstown, he embraced the opportunity of 
 once more visiting Cork, and hearing Mr. Wood preach. 
 On the 15th, he re-embarked at Cross-Haven, to which 
 place he was accompanied by Iris father, who " loaded him 
 with blessings :" — "Such a father — he is only surpassed 
 by another, and that is the God and Father of our Lord 
 Jesus Christ !" 
 
 This detention in the Channel, afforded him leisure to 
 reflect upon the time he had passed in Ireland, and the 
 objects of his visit to England. In the preceding eighteen 
 months, he had not only preached four hundred sermons, but 
 had been blessed with good ministerial success ; and he 
 and his congregations had often experienced times of re- 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 in 
 
 freshing from the presence of the Lord. In reference to 
 the unhappy division to which I have before alluded, he 
 observes : — " The Methodist Society in Ireland was rent 
 in twain from the top to the bottom ; and, forced out, as I 
 was in these times, it was my object to assist in sewing up 
 the rents which had been made. To the glory of God I 
 would record it, that I believe my labour was not altogether 
 in vain in the Lord." With sincere pleasure, may be 
 added to this record, the following testimony of a reverend 
 gentleman, who had many opportunities of judging on the 
 subject : — " He preached practical Christianity, in most 
 lively colours ; and his ' sweet persuasive tongue' so re- 
 commended 'brotherly kindness and charity,' entreating 
 his brethren, even weeping, to ' fall not out by the way,' 
 that all appeared to be carried away by his eloquence to 
 spiritual union, and heavenly peace ; and he was made a 
 general blessing, at that time of strife and division in the 
 church." 
 
 Mr. Summerfield's popularity was too great, not to 
 create envy in Uttle minds. Upon the latter clause of the 
 subjoined review we must drop a tear, but there exists no 
 valid reason for suppressing it : — " In the various circuits 
 I have travelled, I have met with many trials ; many of 
 the preachers received me gladly ; I believe I was beloved 
 by those whose love I most higlij^ prize ; and in this page, 
 and in this number, I would recdrd names ever dear to 
 me — Tobias, Wood, Steele, W. Stewart, A. Hamilton, 
 sen'r, T. W. Doolittle, H. Dury, S. Harpur, E. Cobain, F. 
 
172 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 Russell, P. Rogers, J. Matthews, 6cc. Others I found 
 among my brother preachers, who received me with — not 
 coolness or reserve, (this I care nothing about,) but marked 
 dislike. They would rather, I do really believe, that I 
 were cut off, than preserved among them. — I know them — 
 God knows them ; — I love them truly, and would be glad 
 to be their lowUest servant in any capacity." 
 
 On the 16th, the wind w as favourable ; the vessel stood 
 out fairly for her destination, and as the green hills of the 
 land of his spuitual nativity receded from his sight, the 
 anxious voyager ejaculated in broken accents of affection — 
 "Farewell ! my sweetest friends ! Farewell ! Ireland, thou 
 concealest all that I love dear on earth ! — yet I give you all 
 up ; — the cross ! — but then the crown ! — T leave a land of 
 friends — I fly to a land of strangers ! — Cease, fond nature — 
 cease thy strife ! — It is for Jesus ! Farewell ! Adieu !" On 
 the 19th, he landed at Bristol. 
 
 It may here be repeated, that the object of his voyage 
 to England was threefold.— 1. To attend to some business 
 for his father ; 2. The prospect of benefitting his constitu- 
 tion ; and, 3. A resolution to converse unreservedly with 
 some one on his spiritual state ; and, therefore, to remain 
 for sometime unknown to the brethren. Providence had 
 otherwise ordered concerning him. 
 
 Immediately on his arrival at Bristol, as he was passing 
 along one of the streets of the city, in the loose blue coat 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 173 
 
 which he had worn aboard, and his head so reeUng from 
 the motion of the vessel, that he had occasionally to cling 
 to the palisades, to prevent liimself from falling on the 
 pavement ; he saw a number of children playmg at mar- 
 bles ; of these he inquired the way to the Methodist 
 Chapel. Thither he repaired, and found that " a stranger " 
 was expected to preach that evening. Having taken his 
 seat in a pew, he sat, " unknowing and unknown," with 
 the rest of the congregation. When they had waited 
 nearly half an hour beyond the time appomted, and no 
 preacher making his appearance, nor any person attempt- 
 ing even to give out a hymn, the people meantime begin- 
 ning to go away, it was strongly impressed upon Mr. Sum- 
 merfield's mind, that he must himself be "the stranger," 
 thus providentially appointed. After reasoning a short 
 time with flesh and blood, he at length broke the snare, 
 and inwardly rephed to what he considered a call from 
 God — '-Lord, here am I — not my will, but thine, be done !" 
 He then ascended the pulpit, and under a sweet sense of 
 the divine presence, gave out the hymn, begiiming, " God 
 moves in a mysterious way." He felt a Uttle trepidation 
 at first, but in a few minutes tliis text came to his mind — 
 " Fear not, for I am with thee : be not dismayed, for I am 
 thy God ! I \vi\\ strengthen thee ; yea, I will help thee : 
 yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my 
 righteousness." He preached with his usual freedom and 
 unction ; and thus singularly commenced his ministry in 
 England. 
 
174 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 A few words will explain the circumstance which thus 
 opened Mr. Summerfield's way to a British pulpit, so con- 
 trary to his expectation and even to his wishes : — the 
 District Meeting, which had that week been held in Bris- 
 tol, had terminated only the day before, and this, m con- 
 nexion with the anniversary of the local Methodist Mis- 
 sionary Society, had brought a considerable number of 
 preachers to the spot ; publication had therefore been made 
 for " a stranger" on the evening in question ; but no name 
 was mentioned, as it was hardly to be doubted, but that 
 when from forty to fifty preachers were present in the city, 
 some stranger might reasonably be expected. No other 
 stranger, however, nor any other preacher, could be found. 
 — though many of the friends actually went from the 
 chapel to seek one. 
 
 Having, in consequence of the above incident, and con- 
 trary to his intentions for the present, been induced to show 
 the letters of introduction with which he had been furnished 
 by Mr. Wood, at Cork, he was received with much affection 
 by many of the English brethren then in Bristol. While 
 in that city, he was kindly entertained by John Hall, and 
 Edward Jones, Esqrs. Mr. Hall carried him m a chaise 
 f o Bath, where he met with, and was affectionately recei- 
 ved by, that truly apostohc man, (now in glory !) the 
 Rev. AValter Griffiths. 
 
 On the 22d, he set off to Exeter on the business witii 
 which his father had charged him in Eiigland : this nego- 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 175 
 
 tiation.. however, tenninated inauspiciously. So, says he, 
 " my dear father is again disappointed : he thought that 
 the providence of God was removing hmi to England, — 
 but all is closed ! I wrote to him the day following, to com- 
 municate the unpleasant result ; and endeavoured to 
 encourage liim to trust in the Lord. Indeed, my dear 
 father has no continuing city here. God, in his mercy, 
 removes him from place to place, and shows liim that this 
 is not his home ; but he has given him a title through 
 grace to a kingdom ! a kingdom which cannot be moved" 
 
 His visit to Exeter at this juncture, was, however, inter- 
 esting to himself as a Methodist preacher: the District 
 Meeting was assembled, and the anniversary of the Mis- 
 sionary Society of the District was held ; and as Mr. Sum- 
 merfield was just come from Ireland, he was not only 
 allowed, but required, to take a prominent part. Some of 
 the preachers were very shy on this occasion ; and one of 
 them had even the indiscretion to say to his colleagues, " be 
 cautious how you mix with the Irish brethren !" This 
 conduct deterring the resident preachers, he was not 
 invited to occupy their pulpits ; until at the kind soUcitation 
 of Mr. Kilpin, the Baptist minister, he had preached for 
 him in his Meeting house. He was then, on the follo\ving 
 Sunday, asked to preach in Exeter, — not however by the 
 superuitendent, but by Mr. Overton, the junior preacher. 
 He had promised to be in Bristol that day, but lest his 
 motives in leaving a place where he had not been well 
 treated, might be misconstrued, he apologized toliis Bristol 
 
176 
 
 MEMOIRS OP THE 
 
 friends, and preached on the Sabbath at Exeter with great 
 power and acceptance. 
 
 Sunday, June 3d, he preached agahi at Bristol — Mr, 
 Roberts reading the church service before sermon ; this 
 was quite new to him, as was also the appearance of the 
 chapel, being, as it is, adorned with marble monuments 
 affixed to various parts of the interior. On the following 
 Sunday, he preached twice in St. Philip's chapel, and 
 between these services assisted Mr. Waddy to administer 
 the sacrament. This also was new to him — it was more- 
 over the first time that he had communicated in a Metho- 
 dist chapel : so, after preaching in King-street chapel, Bath, 
 he observes : — " As I am always meeting with something 
 new m England, I may observe, that this was the first chapel 
 in which I had met with an organ ; the hjrmns were played 
 on it in a dehghtful manner, and produced good effect." 
 While in Bristol, he had a pleasant interview with Mr. 
 Thomas Exiey, the ingenious mathematician ; he hkewise 
 saw several Moravian friends, and amongst them two of his 
 Fairfield preceptors, — Rev. Messrs. Ramftler and Mallaheu. 
 
 Having, soon after his arrival in England, written to the 
 Rev. Thomas Thomson, his old friend, companion, and 
 fellow-labourer, then stationed at Framlingham, in Suffolk, 
 he received a letter in return, from which it may be inter- 
 esting to make the following extract : — " Your dear father, 
 (whom, as long as recollection endures, and a spark of 
 gratitude exists in my heart, I shall love and respect,) has 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 177 
 
 now got, what from your childhood he most anxiously 
 desired, and what / know he has prayed for, hundreds of 
 times. Yes, my dear Jolm, your dear father knows what 
 it is to wrestle with God, and he knows what it is to prevail. 
 I have for the last eleven years, in which I have been an 
 itinerant preacher, seen numbers of men who possessed 
 deep piety, — but one who had greater influence with hea- 
 ven — more power with God, than your father, I have not 
 seen." 
 
 It does not appear that Mr. Summerfield kept any jour- 
 nal of his feelings, or his proceedings, from the period of 
 his lea\dng England for Ireland* — nor, in fact, until his 
 arrival in America : indeed, the very latest entry in the 
 foregoing coimtry, occurs under June 28 ; when reviewing 
 God's dealings with him, he remarks, " and here, I have 
 been abundantly blessed ; my heart nas been sweetly 
 
 * Mr. Summerfield returned from England to Cork, in August, 
 1820, little improved in health. His time was variously employed 
 as before, viz. in writing for the establishment of which his father 
 was manager, and occupying the pulpits in the different chapels 
 in Cork and its vicinity ; until the 19th of October, when he 
 was again most alarmingly attacked with the same disorder 
 which brought him to the verge of the grave at Hop Island — 
 the very same day of the previous year. In a few weeks, he 
 was so far convalescent that his pliysicians advised a sea voyage; 
 which was promptly acceded to by his father, who had long 
 contemplated the removal of the family to America. 
 
 J. BlacJcstock. 
 
 23 
 
178 
 
 MEMOIKS OF THE 
 
 drawn out after the fulness of the blessings of the gospel 
 of Christ ; and I believe I can say, I feel more truly alive 
 to God, and have nearer access to him, than for some 
 time past." He adds — " of the kindness of Mr. Hall's 
 family (of Bristol) I cannot speak in any just terms — God 
 bless them !" 
 
 While at the Conference held in Liverpool, he became 
 acquainted with the Rev. Jolm Emory, the representative 
 of the American Conference. Tiie interviews which Mr. 
 Summerfield enjoyed with so respectable and influential a 
 member of the Methodist church in America, though they 
 did not originate, may reasonably enough be supposed to 
 have thrown an halo of new interest around that project 
 of emigration, which providence seems at tliis period to 
 have forced upon the attention and choice of his father 
 and the family. How long — and on what accounts chiefly, 
 thoughts of America had occupied the minds of Mr. Sum- 
 merfield and his father, may be gathered from the follow- 
 ing extracts of letters, written, as their dates will show, in 
 1819, and addressed by him to his eldest sister and her 
 husband — Mr. and Mrs. Blackstock, of New- York, in 
 which city, as aheady stated, they had for some time 
 resided : — 
 
 " Temporal affairs have not answered our expectations : 
 I believe it was not the will of heaven, that 1 should be 
 buried in a secular calling ; I was given to the Lord from 
 my mother's womb, and because I refused the surrendering 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 179 
 
 of myself to the ministry exclusively, I have been scourged 
 beyond measure ; but I at last came in, and I never mean 
 to quit the temple service of the God whose name is Holy." 
 ****(( Imve long talked of removing to America ; 
 if my father should not make up his mind to settle in 
 Cork, in July next, he will certainly conclude to go without 
 further delay ; and with regard to the rest of us, we can 
 have no objections, notwithstanding the dangers of the 
 passage, when we have such attractions already on that 
 side the water." April 19th, 1819. He thought right, 
 however, to modify the plirase, — " we can have no objec- 
 tions," by adding — " Perhaps I spoke hastily ; with regard 
 to myself, perhaps my best friends would not consent that 
 I should remain in America ; but at all events, they could 
 not deny me the indulgence of the heartfelt pleasure of 
 .«eeing you." 
 
 At the conclusion of a long letter to liis sister, descriptive 
 of his religious experience, he says — " I often tell my 
 friends in this country of my desire of going to America ; 
 they will not hsten to it for a moment. I do indeed desire 
 it, if it were the Lord's will, but not otherwise — I long to 
 see you, that I may be filled with your company ; — if it 
 is his will, he will open the way." April 19tb, 1819. 
 
 America appeared to be his providential destination. 
 All things were duly arranged for the voyage ; Mr. Sum- 
 merfield, his revered father, his elder brother William, and 
 his two sisters Amelia and Anne, sailed from Cork, on the 
 
180 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 12th of December, 1820, in the ship General Lingan, 
 bound to New- York. The vessel being only ballasted, 
 after a not unpleasant saU. of fifteen days, touched at St. 
 Ubes, a Portuguese harbour, about fifteen miles south of 
 Lisbon, to take in a cargo of salt. After staying at this 
 place some weeks, and receiving every civility from the 
 resident British and American consuls, they again set sail. 
 The captain of the vessel was a most gentlemanly officer, 
 and did every thing in his power to make the passengers 
 comfortable : added to this, the young ladies had their 
 piano in the cabin, so that the time passed very agreeably 
 on shipboard ; the more so, as the breezes of the Atlantic 
 appeared to have a favourable effect upon Mr. Summer- 
 field's health. On the 17th of March, 1821, they landed 
 safely at New- York. 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 181 
 
 SECTIOX XI. 
 
 Methodism in America — Summerfield arrives at Jfew-York 
 — eloquent speech— stationed at J^ew-York — speech — un- 
 precedented popidarity — addresses children — letters — news- 
 paper notices — immense audiences at Washington — preaches 
 in front of the Capitol — affection of his friends — affecting 
 sermon. 
 
 Methodism, wliich as most persons are aware, had its 
 rise with the preaching of the celebrated and Rev. John 
 Weslej'^, in England, about the year 1730, flourishes in 
 America to a greater extent even than in Europe. Its 
 introduction to the United States, is traceable to PhUip Em- 
 bury, a local preacher from Ireland, who in the year 1766, 
 began to preach in the city of New- York ; where, in a 
 very few months, he united with himself in church 
 fellowship a number of his own countr)T;nen, as well as 
 citizens, — and thus laid the foundation of the society. 
 
 In the same year, Thomas Webb, a gentleman holding 
 a captain's commission in the British service, and who had 
 a mihtary station in the city of Albany, visited New- York, 
 and several other places, attracting large crowds, who 
 Q 
 
182 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 wondered much to see the pulpit occupied by a man in 
 the uniform of a soldier. Almost simultaneous with these 
 operations, was tlie arrival of Robert Strawbridge, another 
 Irish local preacher, who settled at a place called Pipe- 
 Creek, in Maryland, where he began to preach, formed a 
 (Society, and built a log chapel. In the course of three 
 years, the people had so increased, and the prospects of 
 the society were so encouraging, that in answer to the 
 prayer of the Society in New-York, Mr. Wesley sent 
 Messrs. Boardman and Pilmoor, who were the first regular 
 preachers appointed by Mr. Wesley to this country. 
 Meanwhile, the first Methodist chapel was built in New- 
 York, and things went on so prosperously, that at the latter 
 end of the year 1771, Rev. Francis Asbury, and Rev. 
 Richard Wright, joined the brethren above named. 
 
 There was at this period a general deficiency of vital re- 
 ligion in the Church of England in America, as well as 
 in the mother country, the people being in many places 
 even destitute of the Christian sacraments, as several of the 
 clergy had forsaken their churches. In this lamentable 
 state of affairs, the preachers and memuersof the Methodist 
 Society in America, requested Mr. Wesley to take, in their 
 behalf, such m.easures, in his wisdom and prudence, as 
 would afford them suitable relief in their distress. 
 
 In consequence of this representation, that venerable 
 man, who, under God, had been the father of the great 
 revival of religion now extending over the eeirth, by the 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMEKFIELD. 
 
 183 
 
 means of the Methodists, deteiniined to ordain ministers 
 for America. Accorduigly, on the estabhshment of peace 
 in 1784, Mr. Wesley sent over three regidarly ordained 
 clergymen — Dr. Tiiomas Coke, Ricliard Whatcoat, and 
 Thonias Vasey, vesting them with eccletiiasiical powers to 
 constitute the American Methodists an independent Episco- 
 pal Church. Having fixed upon this n)ode of Church 
 government, he solemnly set apart, by the imposition of 
 his liands, and prayer, " one of tliem, viz. Thomas Coke, 
 Doctor of Civil Law, late of Jesus (,'ollege, in the Univer- 
 sity of Oxford, and a Presbyter of the Church of England, 
 for the Episcopal Office ; and liaving delivered to him let- 
 ters of Episcopal orders, commissioned and directed him 
 to set apart Francis Asbury, tiien general assistant of the 
 Methodist Society in America, for the same Episcopal 
 office ; he, the said Francis Ashury, being first ordained 
 deacon and elder. In consequence of which, tlie said 
 Francis Asbury was solemnly set apart for the said Epis- 
 copal office, by prayer, and tbe imposition of the lianciri of 
 the said Thomas Coke, other regularly ordained niinisters 
 assisting in the sacred ceremony. At wliich time, the 
 general Conference held at Baltimore did unanimous-ly re- 
 ceive the said Tiiomas Coke, and Francis Asbury, as their 
 Bishops, beuig fully satisfied of the vahdity of their Epis- 
 copal ordination." 
 
 Thus originated the Metliodist Episcopal Cliurch in 
 America, into the bosom of which, not merely as a servant, 
 but " as a brother beloved in the Lord," Mr. Summerfield 
 
184 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 was now to be received, and under whose authority and 
 direction, we are henceforward to behold liim spending and 
 being spent. 
 
 Presently after his arrival at New- York, in March, 1.821, 
 he connnenced his ministerial labours, though he was in a 
 vej y indifferent state of health. 
 
 The Fifth Anniversary of the American Bible Society 
 was held at the City Hotel, in the city of New- York, on 
 the 10th of May. The chair was fiUed by the President, 
 the honourable and venerable Ehas Boudinot, LL. D. 
 ihen in the eighty-second year pf his age. At tliis 
 meeting, Mr. Su)mnertield made a speech which produced 
 a wonderful effect, and added much to that popular estima- 
 tion in which he had been rising ever since he preached 
 his first sermon. The following passage may be quoted 
 from the report of the Society : — " In seconding the motion 
 of thanks to the venerable President, I am assured of the 
 consentaneous feeUng of every heart around me. When I 
 beheld him enter the room, I felt a thrill strike through ni}' 
 soul, but which I cannot describe ; I beheve it was the 
 generous throb of every individual here present, at the 
 sight of Boudinot ; — it was sympathetic, and every heart 
 vibrated in perfect unison with my own. My imagination 
 involuntarily recognized in him a resemblance to pious 
 Jacob ; and ' finding the time draw near when he must 
 die,' I fancied that he had said in his heart, ' Gather your- 
 selves together that I may bless you before I die !' And 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMEKFIELD. 185 
 
 when one told Jacob, and said, ' Behold thy sons come 
 unto thee, Israel strengthened himself, and sat upon the 
 bed,' and said, * Hear ye sons of Jacob, and hearken unto 
 Israel your father.' Instead of urging upon you any tiling 
 us a motive to your imanimously seconding the motion, I 
 leave it to yourselves, and the best feelings of your hearts ; 
 nor am I at all apprehensive for the result. At the same 
 tiine, you will present your thanks to Almighty God for 
 having raised up such a father to your society, for having 
 put it into his heart to ' come to the help of the LiOid 
 against the mighty,' and as the beet w-ay of expressing 
 your gratitude to this servant of the Lord, remembejr him 
 j^incerely at tlie throne of grace, and pray that whenever it 
 *hall please the Head of the Church, and God of the Bible, 
 to remove him hence, his last hours may be peace ! pray 
 that God would speak to his heart the word which once 
 cheered the fainting mind of Israel of old — ' Fear not to go 
 down into Egypt ; I will go down with thee into Egj-pt, 
 and I will also surely bring thee up again ;' and that 
 borne up under this assurance, he may be able to say to 
 liis surviving friends, with a heavenly smile, * whither I go 
 ye know, and the way ye know.' " 
 
 He attended the Conference held at Troy, in the State 
 of New- York, in the month of June, and was atlmitted 
 into the connexion, upon what he justly regarded as libe- 
 ral terms ; for having left Ireland somewhat suddenly, he 
 had net with him a single letter of reconnnendation fronr 
 that country. This dilTiculty — as it might have proved — 
 Q 2 21 
 
186 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 was obviated by a letter which he received from tlie Rev. 
 .Tolin (now Dr.) Emory, who thus in the most friendly and 
 affectionate manner, interfered in Mr. Summerfield's behalf, 
 from a knowledge of his standing in Britain. Being thus 
 received, he was stationed in the city of New- York ; the 
 term of probation required being calculated from the 
 period of his joining the connexion in Ireland, which left 
 one year only for trial, previous to his admission to the 
 office of a deacon. 
 
 After his return from the Troy Conference, he thus 
 writes in his diary : — " Having been appointed for New- 
 York city, I have sought to ratify the same at the Throne of 
 Grace ; I feel as if God would be with me (his year ; He 
 has given me good earnest of it, and I enter upon my 
 arduous duties, relying upon his strong arm alone." After a 
 few days, he adds—" I find that my ensuing year's labours 
 will be double my expectations" — " I feel as if this year 
 would terminate my mortal existence ! my body is perfect 
 weakness ! my soul sympathizes too often with my body, 
 and wants that lively vigour and energy I so much need — 
 but Ifeel that Jesus will do all things well." 
 
 On Sunday, June 10, he preached the anniversary ser- 
 mon of the Marine Church m New- York, and on the fol- 
 lowing Wednesday, delivered an address in Dr. Romeyn's 
 Church, on the first report of the institution. Few readers, 
 probably, at this time, either in Europe or America, re- 
 fjnire to be told that public attention to the spiritual de?ti- 
 
186 
 
 was obvia 
 John {now 
 affectionat 
 I'l om a kn 
 received, 1 
 term of 
 period of 
 one year 
 office of a 
 
 After I 
 writes in 
 York citA 
 Grace ; ] 
 has give 
 arduous 
 few days 
 wall be 
 would te 
 weaknes 
 and wan 
 but I/c£ 
 
 On S 
 mon of 
 lowing 
 Church 
 probabl 
 quire t( 
 
REV, JOHN SUMMERFIELD, 
 
 187 
 
 tutioii of sailors, was first attracted by a singularly gifted 
 individual, residing as a Baptist minister at Cornwall, in 
 England.* A brief outline of Mr. Summerfield's speech 
 at the first anniversary of the Bethel Union, is preserved, a 
 few passages from which will not be unacceptable to the 
 reader in tliis place. Having noticed the indiflference which 
 the Christian world had so long manifested towards sailors, 
 He recollected that this neglect had been from time ini- 
 
 * Amongst the memorials of men raised up in this age of re- 
 hgious institutions, and which have occupied the public attention 
 of our contemporaries, posterity will not willingly allow either 
 detraction or demerit to erase from the scroll of Christian wor- 
 thies, the name of the Rev. G. C. Smith, of Penzance. I am not, 
 of course, unaware, that to speak thus of the gentleman in ques- 
 tion, will be regarded by some persons in England as a species 
 of charitable heterodoxy. To the labours of this indefatigable 
 and interesting man, whom no dangers could daunt, and no ob- 
 loquy confoimd, and who having been in the service himself, has 
 been long and justly known as the " seamen's friend," in the best 
 sense of that phrase ; it is due, at least, to acknowledge that his 
 iQtrepid Christian spirit, and unwearied personal exertions in 
 London and elsewhere, led to the establishment, though they 
 might not absolutely give birth, to all the institutions now existing 
 for the promotion of religious information among sailors. With 
 the subordinate details of his personal history, (the grounds of 
 so much misrepresentation,) however erratic, I have nothing at 
 all to do ; but I gladly embrace this opportunity of leaving an 
 honest and gratuitous testimony to the extent and importance of 
 his public labours. 
 
188 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 memorial ; and that the opinions of the wise and learned 
 sages of antiquity (although in many of them but learned 
 ignorance) had tended to perpetuate this practice still more 
 and more. Plato had declared tliat the sea was the school 
 of vice ; and of course, seamen were regarded as scholars 
 of wickedness themselves, and teachers of it to others. 
 But this was not the lowest opinion formed of them by 
 tlie ancients. When Anacharsis was asked whether he 
 supposed that the number of the dead exceeded the num- 
 ber of the hving, he replied, ' first inform me in which of 
 these classes seamen are to be placed ?' implying, that 
 though they had 'a name to live,' they were considered 
 virtually dead, and of course, not worthy of any labour 
 which would tend to meliorate their condition. 
 
 " The opinions of our christian ancestors were not much 
 more exalted on this subject. He was reminded by a pre- 
 ceding speaker, who had alluded to the great and good 
 John Flavel, of the sentiment of the good puritan with 
 reference to seamen in his day. The same, said he, may 
 be applied to them, which was said of an ungodly minis- 
 ter, then living, — whose pulpit discourses were so superioi^ 
 to his daily practice, that it were a pity he should ever 
 leave the pulpit, for, when mounted there, he was as near 
 to heaven as ever he would be ; so, sa)^s the honest divine, 
 may it be said of seamen ; when tossed upon the waves, 
 Uhey mount up to heaven,' as the Psalmist expresses it, 
 lhat it were a pity they should ever descend again ; foi- 
 it was as near as ever they would be.' 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 189 
 
 '•' Mr. S. observed, he could not recollect that any fa- 
 vourable notice had been taken of seamen by the christian 
 world, except that they were included in the prayers of 
 the church of England by the petition for ' all who travel 
 by land or by water :' But alas, in this case sailors might 
 in some sort apply the reasoning which had been used 
 with reference to the Cathohc priest, who would willingly 
 give the poor man his blessing, but not a sixpence of his 
 money : which led the supphant to remark to the ecclesi- 
 astic, that as it was evident he w-ould not bestow it, if it 
 cost him but sixpence, so he would dispense with it ! Until 
 the present day, seamen might retort upon the cliristian 
 world m similar language. We have prayed, but have 
 not laboured for their welfare ; we have talked a good deal, 
 but have done nothing, until the formation of the Bethel 
 Union Society. But now the stigma is removed ; and, 
 said Mr. S., although I must turn my eyes from the chaii' 
 to express it, lest a forbidden look should chill the declara- 
 tion I am proud to make : there are not wanting christians, 
 who give more than their prayers on every sabbath day ; 
 who give theii- wealth, their time, their every thing, in this 
 labour of love ; and who would not count their owti lives 
 too dear to sacrifice in the cause of Him, ' whose they are, 
 and wliom they serve.' * * * * 
 
 " The disregard which seamen are thought to manifest 
 for the sabbath, and every rehgious obser\-ance, is generally 
 owing to a similar cause, — the disrespect which their cap- 
 tain's manifest to these things. The couplet, which sea- 
 
190 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 men have learnt, as expressive of tlie Egyptian rigour of 
 their task-masters, is in a great measure true : — 
 
 ' Six days thou shall work and do all thou art able ; 
 On the seventh, thou shall scour the decks, and then wash 
 the cable.' 
 
 " But let the captains and owners of ships shew a vene- 
 ration for the Lord's day, and .seamen will respect it more. 
 It was therefore with pleasure that Mr. S. seconded a re- 
 solution of thanks to tliose captains and owners who had 
 dared to be singular, and whose example he trusted would 
 be followed by many others." 
 
 His popularity now became unprecedentedly great ; peo- 
 ple of all denominations crowded to hear him : it was no 
 uncommon thing for multitudes to surround the church, 
 where he was expected, awaiting the opening of the doors, 
 so that before the time of service, hundreds have had to 
 return disappointed, being unable to gain admittance. 
 And repeatedly these crowds have been so dense, that he 
 had to get to the pulpit through the windows. Weak as 
 he was, it was his practice to preach on an average three 
 times a week ; besides delivering addresses on various 
 occasions. 
 
 It had ever been his delight (an uncommon merit witli 
 men so eminently gifted) to address juvenile auditories ; he 
 now made it a point to preach once a month to the chil- 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 191 
 
 tlren, taking up, at the same time, a collection for the Mis- 
 sionary Society. In these addresses, the children were 
 delighted by his inetiiod of instruction : the simplicity and 
 familiarity of his manner soon won the attention of his 
 youthful hearers ; and then did he impress upon their 
 susceptible minds the truths of the gospel, illustrating his 
 remarks by the most striking metaphors, and by interesting 
 and appropriate anecdotes. On these occasions he never 
 forgot the parents ; for, as he used to say, he liked to 
 preach to the children, because it afforded him an oppor- 
 tunity of speaking through them, plainly and affectionately, 
 to their parents. 
 
 The subjoined copy of a letter, addressed by Mr. Sum- 
 merfield to a pious lady, whose name it is not material to 
 mention, may close, with much propriety the notices of 
 the present year : — 
 
 "mw-York, 28th Oct. 1821. 
 
 Mr DEAR Sister, 
 
 For such, I trust, you will allow me to call you ; — I 
 can assure you it is with feelings of no ordinary kind that 
 I now sit dowTi to address you ; but I feel as if I needed 
 no introduction — you will meet me with the salutation, 'how 
 beautiful are the feet of them that publish glad tidings of 
 good things.' — Believe me, the day has not often gone by, 
 in which I have not thought of you, and prayed that the 
 God of all grace would cause you to abound in every good 
 and perfect work ; that he would perfect in you that which 
 
192 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 is lacking, and cause you to be steadfast, unmoveable, 
 always abounding in the work of the Lord. ***** 
 Startle not at difficulties ; I have in general marked, that 
 when they have crossed our rehgious path, at our setting 
 out, we have become more confirmed thenceforward in our 
 professions ; winds and storms have always the eflfect of 
 causing the tree to strike deeper root, and adhere more 
 firmly to that into which it has been planted : and again, 
 those trees whose roots strike deepest, are more upright in 
 the tendency of their growth, and out-top the ti ees of the 
 forest. Oh, that this may indeed become the case witli 
 you ; that you may sink deeper into the love of God, and 
 rise higher in the attainment and enjoyment of holiness of 
 heart, the mind which was in Jesus — straight and upright, 
 always tending heavenward, and attracted thither con- 
 tinually by the influence of the sun of righteousness. I 
 trust, my dear sister has learned the happy art of fleeing to 
 the strong for strength — that she has often opened the 
 treasury of heaven by the key of prayer ; and by the hand 
 of faith received out of his fulness, grace upon grace. 
 J^ever forget that ' man shall be blest, as much as man 
 permits' — that the invitation is, ' Come, for all things are 
 now ready : ask what you will, and it shall be given you ; 
 and whatsoever you ask the Father in my name, it shall be 
 done for you ;' — but mark — ask in faith, nothing doubting ; 
 remember, the condition remains ever this, ' if thou canst 
 believe, thou shalt see the salvation of God' — whatsoever 
 ye aisk in prayer, believing that ye receive them, ye shall have 
 them ; for ' all things are possible to him that believetli.' 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 193 
 
 Seek, however, the present behef for a present blessing ; 
 though it is promised that you ' shall see the salvation of 
 God,' yet, it is if thou canst now believe. Oh, then cry 
 out, ' Lord, I do believe' — I do mw believe ; help thou mine 
 unbelief. BeUeve that God has given you eternal life, and 
 that life is in his son : 
 
 • See all your sins on Jesus laid — 
 The Lamb of God was slain ;' 
 
 " And then, 
 
 ' Believe, and all your sins forgiven, 
 Only believe, and your's is heaven.' — 
 
 " ]\Iay God open to you the mystery of faith ; give you 
 eyes to sec that he has given you every thing in the gift oj 
 Jesus — pardon, and hohness, and heaven ; believe that they 
 are your's, and your's through the right of Jesus, and your*s 
 mw ; and you will soon receive the seal of his spirit, as 
 the witness of your adoption into the family of his dear son. 
 Write me fully and freely, and T will from time to time 
 communicate such advice as the Lord shall enable me. 
 Meantime, with many assurances of Christian brothcrh' 
 affection, beheve me your sincere well-wisher, 
 
 J. Sl'mmerfield." 
 
 The year 1S22 is one of great importance in Mr. Sum- 
 merfield's ministerial life, and the bundle of document?? 
 relating thereto, is rich and interesting— and, I am sorry to 
 add — melancholy memorials ; as, however, his journn) 
 R 25 
 
194 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 (with an exception hereafter noticed,) was intermitted for at 
 least twenty months, I shall introduce ample extracts from 
 his correspondence. 
 
 In a letter to his father, dated New-York, January 12, 
 1822, he says : — " We are doing well here in our Church 
 concerns ; the I^ord has graciously poured out his spirii on 
 the late festival occasions, and numbers have been con- 
 verted to him. I preached on the watch night in John- 
 street, and the word was indeed accompanied with power ; 
 it was the best season of the kind ever remembered in this 
 city ; — but particularly on last Sabbath the Lord visited his 
 people. I preached in the evening in John-street, and 
 after preaching, I renewed the Covenant, as we do in 
 Europe. It was altogether new here. It .was accompanied 
 with a great blessing, and between twenty and thirty souls 
 have been added to the Lord in consequence — besides, 
 there is a great deepening of rehgion in the hearts of our 
 people, and we have peace and love in all our borders." 
 
 The following extract is from a letter to Mr. Blackstock, 
 dated Baltimore, March 5th, 1822 : 
 
 '• On Friday morning I left Philadelphia at 6 o'clock, and 
 travelled without any intermission, except about two hours, 
 till near six o'clock on Saturday evening, when I arrived 
 in Baltimore, jaded indeed. The road was good, except 
 about fifty miles of it, which was indeed intolerable. 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 195 
 
 However. I am in good health, thank God, and quite re- 
 ciiiited. 
 
 '•My reception here has been highly grateful to niy 
 feehngs as a Methodist. The attention shown me by all 
 ranks, is more than I can well bear ; but the Lord supports 
 Ine. Indeed, 1 feel iu a very unpleasant situation, in a 
 certain degree ; when I came to New- York, I was un- 
 known, and whatever favour, therefore, the Lord gave 
 me in the eyes of the people, was more than was calculated 
 upon ; — but here, fame has preceded me, and blown a very 
 loud trumpet indeed ; many expect from me, I almost 
 think, something more than human, and as all such must 
 inevitably be disappointed, I stand upon vcr}^ unequal 
 ground from my situation in New- York — there, they ex- 
 pected notliing ; here, they expect every thing. 
 
 I preached on Sabbath monung in Light-street Church, 
 to a great multitude, aUhough my fatigues from travelling 
 were great. 
 
 " On Friday morning, I intend to set oCC to Washing- 
 ton, in Mr. Foxall's carriage ; he is here with me, and is 
 indeed a kind father to me. I shall be absent from here 
 the two foUowmg Sabbaths, visiting Washington, George- 
 town, and Alexandria, and return on the Thursday fol- 
 lowing : the next day I have to attend the meeting of the 
 Bible Society liere, and in a few days after, that of the 
 
196 
 
 MEMOIRS OP THE 
 
 sabbath schools — as soon as possible afterwards, I go on 
 to AnnapoHs, to brotlier Emory. 
 
 " You need not be apprehensive concerning me, for I 
 assure you I have found a father in brother Rozsell : he is 
 the presiding elder in this district, and will not permit me 
 to preach oftener than three times a week ; so that I can 
 shelter myself imder his authority, and avoid all extra 
 sohcitations. 
 
 " I am at present at brother Ilarden's ; — he is mdeed a 
 kind man, and receives me with an Irish welcome.^' 
 
 To those who heard this devout and eloquent " messen- 
 ger of the churches," preach during the progress alluded 
 to in the foregoing paragraphs, no description can be 
 necessary to recall him in their hearts and memories. 
 Others, however, who had not that privilege, will be gratified 
 to have their conceptions aided by the following passages, 
 extracted from long newspaper notices, published at the 
 time and on the spot. 
 
 " It has often been asked by those who have not enjoyed 
 the pleasure of hearing Mr. Summerfield, in what the 
 peculiar character of his preaching consisted ? 
 
 " The youth, and apparent debility of the speaker ; the 
 deferent and solemn maimer in which he perfonned the 
 initiatory offices of divine worship ; and, above all, the 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 197 
 
 t haste and fervent simplicity of his petition to the Eternal, 
 .<\\ ept aside all prejudice, and opened every heart and ever}- 
 eyc to the truth and ' beauty of holiness.' 
 
 His sermon was, beyond comparison, superior to any 
 thmg the writer ever heard, although he has enjoyed op- 
 portimities of hearing, Avith no careless ear, many faithful 
 and able ministers of the word. Tt was not of that 
 declamatory kind which is calcidated to excite the feehngs 
 of a promiscuous assembly ; nor of that subtle and meta- 
 j)hysical texture which involves the most vigorous intellects, 
 and perplexes the plainest tmth. It was, on the contrary, 
 a happy imion of argimient and entreaty : seeking to con- 
 vince, and 'persxiade men' of propositions distinctly stated, 
 cogently enforced, and happily illustrated by natural and 
 felicitous imagery. It was the outpouring of a fuU heart, 
 seeking to disbiu-tben itself of the awful responsibihty of 
 its station, and to give vent to the ' glad tidings' of the 
 gospel, as the spuit gave it utterance," 6cc. &c. 
 
 Ponlsoii's American Daily Mvertiser. 
 
 Speaking of his services in Light-street church, the cor- 
 respondent of another local paper, among other remark.s, 
 says — " It is unnecessary here to mention the text he took to 
 expound, or the manner in which he applied the words of it 
 in elucidating his discourse ; it is sufficient to sa)^, that the 
 forcible, energetic, and masterly manner, in which he 
 addressed the congregation — the chastity and harmony of 
 his language— the beauty and elegance of his whole dis- 
 R 2 
 
198 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 course — the deep knowledge he displayed of theology, not 
 only reflected honour upon his head, but evinced, in an 
 
 eminent degree, the purity and goodness of his heart as a 
 christian and minister of the gospel. Nature has, indeed, 
 bestowed upon him the noblest faculty than can be given 
 to man, combining in itself all the force of reason, the 
 cogency of argument, and the propriety of dehvery — for 
 such is eloquente," &c. &c. 
 
 Under the head of " the modern Whitfield," the " Dela- 
 ware Watchman^' gives a long letter from a correspondent 
 at Pliiladelphia. " The discourses of this wonderful man," 
 says the writer, " are not formed upon the model of orators, 
 ancient or modern. They are not made up according to 
 the prescriptions of rhetoricians of great or lesser name ; 
 they owe nothing to the magnificence of words, or the 
 studied graces of manner — but they are deeply imbued 
 with the living spirit of thought, and are dependent for 
 their influence alone upon the omnipotence of truth, and 
 the irresistible energy of genius. His gestures are with- 
 out affectation — few, but fearless, and appropriate. His 
 words spring free and spontaneous from his thoughts, and 
 these gush on with one continued flow from the deep and 
 unfailing fountain of a spirit whose source is in nature and 
 God," &c. &c. 
 
 However gratifying it might be to go on vdth these 
 transcriptions, which might be extended through several 
 pages, from other papers, the foregoing may be sufficient 
 
REV, JOHN SUMMERPIELD. 
 
 199 
 
 as specimens of the whole — at least in this place : it may- 
 suffice, therefore, to add the following, from a Philadelphia 
 print : — " Mr. Summerfield, a clergyman from England, 
 of the Methodist persuasion, has lately delivered several 
 sermons in this city, which have been attended by most 
 unexampled congregations, of all denominations of chris- 
 tians. He is truly powerful both in argument and 
 eloquence. He is an able and strenuous advocate of the 
 doctrines of Christianity. His last discourse, previous to 
 leaving om- city, was delivered yesterday morning, in Dr. 
 Wilson's church, Washington square, in the presence of 
 most of the clergj', and a concourse of at least four thou- 
 sand persons." Like a true evangehst, he embraced this 
 signal opportunity of expounding to his hearers one of the 
 most vital topics of revelation : — " Seeing then that we 
 have a great High Priest, that is passed into the heavens. 
 Jesus the Son of God, let us hold fast our profession," 
 Heb. iv. 14. 
 
 Wliile this tumult of popular feeling was excited by, 
 and around him, how seasonable was the following 
 monitory clause in a letter to Mr. Summerfield at Balti- 
 more, by his friend, the Rev. Joshua (now Bishop) Soule : 
 — " Amidst the mighty crowd, I trust your single eye is 
 fixed on Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith. All 
 your honours, all your trophies, you will hang upon the cross, 
 knowing nothing but ' Him crucified.^ — Watch thou in all 
 things, do the work of an evangelist, make full proof of 
 thy ministry — holding the faith of which some have made 
 
200 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 shipwreck. Let others attempt to edipse the glory of 
 Emanuel, God with us, and limit the perfections and being of 
 the divine Aoyos; but ours be the pleasing task to preach 
 ' Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, to day, and for ever.' " 
 
 His further progress will be best described in his own 
 words. Writing to Mr. Blackstock, from Georgetown, 
 under date of the 13th of March, he says : — " I left Balti- 
 more on Friday in Mr. Foxall's carriage, Mrs. F. accom- 
 pan)ring us ; the distance between Baltimore and Washing- 
 ton is but thuty-six nules, yet we made it a two days jour- 
 ney ; so that you ma.y infer there was not much fatigue 
 attending it. On Sunday morning, I preached in the 
 Foundry chapel in Washington, to an overflowing congre- 
 gation, notice having been uiserted m the newspapers. 
 Although it was the sabbath of Mr. Ryland's appointment 
 in ordinary to preach before the Congress ; yet, in conse- 
 (luence of his having engaged a gentleman of the Presby- 
 terian church, early in the week, to supply his place there 
 on that sabbath, before he knew of my coming down, I 
 had not tliat opportunity. However, there were about fifty 
 senators, and members of the House of Representatives, 
 present, filhng round about the altar inside, and in the 
 pulpit ; and among the rest, John Q,uincy Adams, secretary 
 of state, (since President of the United States,) Callioun, 
 secretary of war, and others. As you may suppose, I 
 directed my attention to subvert the principles of Unitari- 
 anism, which liave unhappily found their way into Con- 
 gress, through the ministry of Mr. Sparks. I had unusual 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 201 
 
 Kberty and boldness, with great freedom of speech ; the 
 Lord stood by me, and I shunned not to declare all the 
 council of God — with what etlect, 1 know not ; I leave 
 that unto the Lord. * * * * Yesterday, for the first time, 
 I visited the Congress ; I received many marks of distin- 
 guished attention from members of both houses ; their 
 kindness was very great, and of course, very grateful to 
 my feelings as a stranger. I am requested to preach in 
 the House of Representatives, on next Sunday ; it is a 
 most spacious hall, and will contain far more than the 
 members of both chambers." 
 
 The '■Metropolitan and Georgetown ^ationalMessenger,*^ 
 thus describes the preacher as he appeared in Dr. Baltch's 
 (the Presbyterian) church : — "Mr. Summerfield is a young 
 gentleman of no ordinary capacity, and his oratorical 
 powers render him an object of deep and hvely interest. 
 When he becomes animated, he appears as if the very 
 breaihings of the Spirit were on him ; and his countenance 
 is lighted up with a fire, bright and holy, like that which 
 appeared to Moses on Mount Horeb. His action and 
 enunciation are chaste — his voice is rather weak, but is quite 
 melodious, and its intonations inconceivably fine — his face 
 wears the aspect of a youth not out of his teens, but is 
 modest and unassuming. We think Mr. S. is every way 
 calculated to do good in the vineyard of his divine Master." 
 
 To suppose that Summerfield was himself insensible 
 amidst all this excitement, would be absurd : he must have 
 26 
 
202 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 been more or less than a man to have experienced no 
 pecuhar emotions under sucli circumstances ; it is enough 
 to assert, that his native modest and christian humility 
 remained unchanged. How properly he estunated the 
 flatteries of the press, (honest and valuable as they un- 
 doubtedly were,) may be inlerred from a pleasant passage in 
 the letter about to be quoted. Addressing Mr. Blackstock, 
 and of course, with Imn, all the members of the family in 
 New- York, he writes : — 
 
 "Annapolis, Mm-yland, March 25th, 1822. 
 " My dear James, 
 
 " I promised to write to you to day, and agreeably 
 thereto, I sit down for the purpose. My^last was from 
 Georgetown, which place I left on Wednesday last. I 
 suppose I need not inform you of any particulars concern- 
 ing my stay in that place, and Wasliington, as you have 
 probably seen my movements in the newspapers of this 
 part of the country. Newspaper editors have not much 
 to do at present, and therefore any novelty affords them a 
 subject for scribbling ; however, they are all favourable, 
 extremely so ; in opposition to my JSTewark friend, one 
 extols my gesture, as being truly chaste and correct : 
 another speaks of my voice, as perfect harmony ; and 
 another says, that its intonations are inconceivabl)^ fine ! ! 
 Dear me ! — what will they say next ? I wish I was out 
 of the way of all this fussbuss, and returned to New- York. 
 I only mention these things, because I knoAV they will onl\- 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 203 
 
 produce in you, the same effect they do in me, exciting a 
 pleasant smile. 
 
 On last Sabbath I intended to have preached in the 
 Capitol at Washington, but when I went, the crowd was 
 so immense, that I took my stand on the lofty steps in 
 front of the House, and preached in the open aii'. I can- 
 not tell you how many were assembled on foot, but the 
 sight was very imposing, being flanked in by several lines 
 of carriages filled with company, who retained their seats, 
 and listened with great attention, so that I infer that I was 
 heard to the extremity. The wind was somewhat in my 
 face, and rendered the exertion greater, and I contracted 
 some hoarseness consequently ; but am now pretty well. 
 
 " On Monday I rode to Alexandria, eight miles from 
 Washington ; I had intended to proceed to Mount Vernon, 
 the sepulchre of Washington's remains, but having to 
 preach that evening, I decUned."' 
 
 The text upon which he discoursed, from the platform 
 at the eastern front of the Capitol, was, We preach Christ 
 crucified, to the Jews a stumbUng block, and to the Greeks 
 foolishness.-' — "If we are to form an opinion of his merits,"' 
 says the Washington City Gazette, " by his popularity as a 
 preacher, the eagerness to hear him has scarcely been 
 equalled since the days of his pious predecessor, George 
 Whitfield." Summerfield, however, was not well calcu- 
 lated to address out of door-multitudes ; in voice, he pos- 
 
204 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 sessed neither the stentorian depth of the apostle of 
 Georgia, nor the sonorous compass of the founder of 
 Methodism. 
 
 He now turned his feet homeward ; having experienced, 
 during his visit to the places above enumerated, unpa- 
 ralleled tokens of affection ; indeed, he observ^es in a note 
 to his friends, that he found the kindness of the good people 
 of Baltimore " increase to so painful a degree, that I longed 
 to tear myself away ;" and so many presents did he re- 
 ceive of various kinds, that he had to get an extra trunk 
 to contain them. In the month of April, he aixived in 
 New- York, from which place, on the 25th, he wrote to Mr. 
 Samuel Harden, of Baltimore.* The followang is an extract 
 of the letter, which is one of a series of seventeen, addressed 
 by Mr. Sumnierfield to this gentleman : — " Oh that my 
 gracious Lord would cause all the plenitude of his grace 
 to abound within your soul ; it is yours ; it has been pur- 
 chased, claim it through the right of Jesus ; and take all 
 the fulness of that which heaven waits to pour into the 
 heart of him who asks, believing that he has the very 
 petitions which he asks tliiough the name of the advocate 
 with the Father. I will endeavour to multiply wm-ds at 
 
 * A more devoted friend than Mr. S. Harden was to my dear 
 brother-in-law, I have not known. He is an extensive merchant 
 in Baltimore, a member of the Methodist church in that cil}-, 
 and a man of great influence in the Society. 
 
 J. Bladstod: 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 205 
 
 the tluone of grace iii your behalf, that you may enjoy all 
 
 the fulness of the blood-bought salvation. Tell R 
 
 she must take care that Martha does not turn Mary out 
 of the house altogether ; or, in other words, that while she 
 is so busily employed in the Missionary cause, for the 
 benefit of otlms, she must not neglect the one thing which 
 is so essential for herself.'^ 
 
 The exalted opinion which the public entertained of Mr. 
 Summerfield's eloquence, at this tune, was not only abun- 
 dantly confirmed, but exceedingly heightened; by a Sermon, 
 wliich he preached on the 7th of May, in the Reformed 
 Dutch Church, Nassau-street, in behalf of the Aew-Forfc 
 Institution for the Instruction of the Deaf and Dumb. The 
 text upon which the discourse was founded, was Luke vi. 
 36. '• Be ye therefore merciful, as your Father also is mer- 
 ciful and the following were the concluding sentences — 
 although the very words of the preacher, those only who 
 heard them in that great congregation, can conceive of the 
 fervour with which they were uttered : — " But I transfer 
 these children now to you. Behold them !* — they now 
 stand before you, as you must stand before the judgement 
 peat of Christ ! Dare you on tliis occasion say, 
 
 * The preacher dropped his handkerchief on the platform., 
 and the objects of the charity stood up in the presence of the 
 congregation. The effect was electrical. 
 
206 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 ' The mercy I to others shew, 
 ' That mercy shew to me :' 
 
 Do you realize that day ? You must stand stripped of everj- 
 earthly treastu'e — naked before God ! While you plead for 
 mercy, cast all earthly treasure from you now : — these 
 now plead with you, as you will plead with God : — hear 
 them ! I do not mock you ! — Silence hke their's is 
 eloquence. The hand of God has smitten them, but the 
 stroke which blasted, consecrated them ! Heaven has cast 
 them on you : — if you withhold, 'tis sacrilege ! Will a man 
 rob God ? Are you still passing- by on the other side ? Still 
 griping, with a miser's fist, the pelf of earth 1 — Father of 
 Mercies ! palsy not that hand ! — wither not that eye which 
 can gaze on these objects, and not feel affected ! On ?)ie 
 be the wrong ! I have failed to affect them — these children 
 have failed. Thou canst move them ; — Oh, descend as 
 with cloven tongues of fire ! and find thou an entrance 
 into every heart ! — But— I can no more !" The sermon 
 being concluded, the collection was taken up, which 
 amounted to something over one thousand dollars, a gold 
 necklace, and several rings ! This Sermon, the only one 
 ever published by Mr. Summerfield, was printed at the 
 request of the Directors, and two editions sold for the benefit 
 of the Institution. It may be added, that on the 18th of 
 April, 1822, a law of the Legislature of the State of New- 
 York was passed, entitled, " .3n act to provide for tlie Mi- 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD, 207 
 
 gent Deaf and Dumb within this State ;" thus transferring 
 the maintenance of these uistitulions for the destitute 
 from the charity of individuals to the resources of govern 
 menu 
 
208 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 SECTIOX XII. 
 
 Ordained Deacon — violent illness — dictates a testamentary 
 paper — recovers slowly — public anxiety — letters — Episcopal 
 certificate to travel — visits JSTew-Jersey — created Master of 
 Arts — letter. 
 
 In the month of June, the Conference of that section of 
 the American Methodist Society to which Mr. Summer- 
 field belonged, was held in the city of New- York. He 
 .ittended the sittings daily, though evidently labouring at 
 the same time mider indisposition. Having fulfilled his 
 probation, he was now, according to the usage of the 
 church, ordained Deacon. The following is the Cer- 
 tificate :— 
 
 " Know all men bf these presents, That I, Wil- 
 liam M'Kendree, one of the Bishops of the Methodist Epis- 
 copal Church in America, under the protection of Almighty 
 God, and with a single eye to his glory, by the imposition 
 of my hands and prayer, have this day set apart John 
 SuMMERFiELD, for the office of a Deacon in the said 
 Methodist Episcopal Church ; a man whom I judge to be 
 well qualified for that work : and I do hereby recommend 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 209 
 
 liiin to all whom it may concern, as a proper person to ad- 
 minister the ordinances of Baptism, Marriage, and the- 
 Burial of the Dead, in the absence of an Elder ; and to 
 feed the flock of Christ, so long as his spirit and practice 
 are such as become the p-ospeL 
 
 " In testimony whereof, I have hereunto set my hand 
 and seal, this second day of June, one thousand eight 
 hundred and twenty-two. 
 
 venerable Bishop, M'Kendree, to Philadelphia ; the fatigue 
 which he endured on this jovimey, (short of 100 miles,) was 
 more than his weak frame could bear, and on his arrival 
 he was taken with a violent hemorrhage of the lungs ; and 
 so severe was the attack, and so reducing the consequent 
 treatment, that he was brouglit down to the verge of the 
 grave. On the 11th of June, he was given up by the 
 physicians, and it was thought that a few hours would ter- 
 minate his life. At this crisis, he declared himself to be 
 fully prepared for the change which seemed to be at hand, 
 and said that he felt " inconceivably happy," requesting his 
 brother, who was present, to have " bis mind made up."' 
 He then desired that his wTiting desk might be placed by 
 bis side on the bed, and although so feeble that he could 
 
 «W. M'Kendree. [Seal] 
 
 " Done in the Cit' 
 of New-York."" 
 
 n 
 
 A few days after this ordination, he proceeded with liis 
 
 s2 
 
 27 
 
■210 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 Imrdly move liis eye, he wrote the following dkections 
 with a facility truly astonisliing : — 
 
 " June 11th, 1822. I the subscriber, being about, as far 
 as human calculation can determine, to leave this world 
 for a better, being unable to speak sufficiently to convey 
 my last wishes m certain matters dependent upon my 
 death, do hereby advise, 
 
 1st. That my body be decently interred in Philadel- 
 phia, where it now is, without pomp or parade. 
 
 " 2d. That if it be the wish of the physicians, they 
 are at liberty to open it after my decease, to ascertain the 
 nature of my complaint ; this may serve others ; and as I 
 have wished its strength and vigour to be devoted for the 
 good of man, 1 am willing that the corpse be also so apphed ; 
 — not desirmg either to live to myself, or die to myself 
 
 3d. I have little effects remaining : I entered not into 
 the ministry of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, from 
 pecuniary considerations, and had only a provision of food 
 and raiment ; owing to the benevolence of dearly beloved 
 brother and sister Blackstock, and my kmd friends, the 
 sum allowed me for food has not been expended ; there 
 mil be found, therefore, two hundred dollars in the writing 
 desk in my room at Dr. Beekman's, in a red pocket-book: 
 this sum is in two promissory notes of the Methodist Book 
 concern — the money being lodged there at interest ; — it 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 211 
 
 is my desire, that this be preserved for my two poor girls, 
 Ameha and Anne, {his sisters,) as a farewell token of my 
 love for them ; — to be received by, or for them, at any 
 after period of theii- hves. 
 
 " 4th. I earnestly beseech my good brother Waldo, in 
 Pine-street, by all the love he ever shewed me, to give my 
 portrait to brother and sister Blackstock ; and I beg they 
 will accept of it as a farewell gift. 
 
 " 5th. It is my charge that my pocket volumes of MS. 
 sermons, &c. be retained by Mr. Blackstock. — This charge, 
 is in trust for either of my brothers, Joseph, or WilUam, in 
 case the Lord should call either of them into the work 
 of the ministry ; they may then avail themselves of my 
 labours. 
 
 '• 6th. With regard to my Theological books and 
 pamphlets, Mr. Blackstock may retain them for the same 
 purpose as above : all my other books, I give to Mr. 
 Blackstock ; as also my Theological ones, in case of 
 failiue of my hopes with regard to either of my brothers. 
 
 '• 7th. There is in the writing desk in Dr. Beekman's, 
 also, eleven dollars in notes, and a ten dollar gold eagle ; 
 this sum is for the Young Men's Missionary Society, of 
 which I am President, being ten dollars from Dr. Beek- 
 man for his son, ten dollars from Mr. Bethune, and one 
 dollar from Mrs. Wallace, as a donation. 
 
212 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 " 8th. I owe to Mr. Brown, the tailor, eleven dollars — " 
 
 The document was here abruptly broken off, at the 
 request of his brother, on perceiving that the sufferer was 
 completely exhausted, in consequence of the effort he had 
 made to write thus far. The writing apparatus being 
 removed, he laid down in bed, and immediately feU into a 
 sound sleep, from which he did not awake, until after a 
 lapse of sixteen hours I During this repose, the natural 
 energy of his shattered constitution had made a vigourous 
 effort, and when he awoke, a change for the better had 
 evidently taken place. He continued to improve daily ; 
 and in a week was able to write home the following 
 letter : — 
 
 " Philadelphia, June \8th, 1822. 
 
 " My DEAR J.\MES, 
 
 " I suppose you will not expect more than a line or two, 
 when you see it is from me ; and when you know that I 
 am writing, while on my back in bed. — I still continue to 
 improve, and have had no return of the bleeding ; Ellen 
 (Mrs. Blackstock) says she is better, and will write to-moi - 
 row ; my father and she unite with me in love to you, and 
 William, and my poor girls Amelia and Anne. The Lord 
 bless you all I 
 
 «J. SUMMERFIELD.-' 
 
 Such was the intense solicitude which the report of Mr. 
 Summerfield's illness produced in Philadelphia and else- 
 where, that sometliing like bulletins, announcing- his conva- 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 213 
 
 lescence, were published in the newspapers. One of them 
 observe?, '• there is no better proof of the lofty estimation in 
 which this gentleman's character and talents are held, than 
 the intense anxiety which has been manifested for Iris 
 recovery. We recollect no instance of the kind, in which 
 public sympathy has been so warmly engaged, or in which 
 the danger of one individual has produced so lively a sen- 
 sation upon the general mind." 
 
 From several letters received by Mr. Summerfield, 
 after his recovery, it appears how sincerely his fathers 
 and bretliren in the ministry sympathised with him. 
 Passing by others, the reader will be gratified with the 
 perusal of a passage from a letter addressed to him by 
 the venerable Freeborn Garretson, a man who was emi- 
 nently revered among his colleagues, and whose name is 
 not confined to America — he died in 1827. The letter is 
 dated Rhinebeck, July 5th, 1822, and commences — 
 
 " My dear afflicted young Friend, 
 
 " I received a letter from two of our general superm- 
 tendents, advising you and myself to journey and labour 
 together, part at least of this summer, if health, and a 
 willing mind, permit. — I hope ever to stand ready to con- 
 tribute my Uttle miie to promote the good cause in the best 
 way possible : I cannot converse on paper with that cer- 
 tainty, as if we were face to face, and knew each other's 
 feelings, <fcc. However, I will venture to speak, and judge 
 ye ; Rhinebeck is a healthy place, and if your health or 
 
214 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 Strength will permit, I think you had better come up as 
 soon as you can ; and then we shall know better how to lay 
 plans for future usefulness. My dear young friend, you 
 may be sure of this, that I shall be far from pressing 
 labours on you ; perhaps there has been too much of that 
 already. It is possible, with care and attention, you may 
 be restored to health, and a long useful life ; wliich no 
 doubt is the prayer of thousands. 
 
 " The great Head of the church knows what is the 
 best for his creatures. Some he spares long, and othei-s 
 he calls away in the bloom of youth, though intrusted 
 with splendid talents and signal usefulness. This at once 
 may show us, that God can do without us, and that we 
 ought to sit at his feet. God bless you, my son, and 
 make you every thing he would have you be. Pray 
 for me. 
 
 Your's, affectionately, 
 
 «F. GARRETSON." 
 
 Mr. Summerfield recovered so slowly, that in one of his 
 letters, he says concerning his health — " I begin to enter- 
 tain serious apprehensions it will improve no more. — I 
 think I have the prospect of a lingering decline, not 
 unlike that of my dear mother. I wish I could add, that I 
 had also the prospect of the same triumphant end ! On 
 this subject I am very low." At the recommendation of 
 Dr. Physic, and in the hope of salutary effects from the 
 air and water of New-Mills, he took a journey to Jersey : 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 215 
 
 his health, however, improved " but slowly :'' and in a letter 
 from Burlington, dated August, 1822, he speaks of hia 
 state in these measured terms : — " my health is not worse 
 than when I last wrote to you, but I think I may say, it 
 IS somewhat improved." 
 
 His affectionate and sensitive mind was at this time 
 exposed to an experiment of a very pamful kind, by the 
 tidings of the death of an eminent physician, whom he 
 greatly loved, and whose house used to be Mr. Summer- 
 field's home, when in Baltimore. In a letter dated from 
 Burlington, 19th of August, he says : — " On Saturday I 
 received the distressing news, that my dear friend, Dr. 
 Baker, of Baltimore, is an inhabitant of another world ! 
 You know he wrote two letters to me during my Ulness, 
 and was then in perfect health ! at that tune, I was, as 
 you saw me, hanging between time and eternity, insomuch 
 that the letters were kept from me ; — yet how soon is the 
 scene changed : he is laid low, and I am spared ! Gracious 
 God ! how mysterious are thy providences ! I know not 
 why I was spared, for truly I am an unprofitable piece of 
 lumber, a burthen to my friends and to myself. Oh, that 
 the design for which I have been spared, may have its 
 full accomphshment in me." This report turned out to be 
 unfounded ; Dr. Baker had indeed been near death, but 
 recovered. What had been the exercises and temper of 
 Mr. Sumraerfield's spirit on this occasion, and how sincerely 
 he rejoiced in the restoration of one of his best firiend^, 
 will appear from the following tender letter : — 
 
216 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 " Burlington, August 2\st, 1822. 
 
 " Mr DEAR, DOUBLY DEAR DoCTOR, 
 
 " While I write to you, I scarcely believe myself 
 awake ; — it seems a pleasant dream. To me, you are as 
 one risen from the dead ! On Saturday last, I heard that 
 Dr. Baker was no more ! — I wept — I prayed — I painted 
 the whole picture of his bereaved family before my mind ; 
 and often have I put the question to myself since that 
 time, what will become of the fatherless children ? — 'Tis 
 true, I had some cordial in the cup, for I anticipated thai 
 my dear friend departed in the full triumph of faith ; I 
 feincied the feelings of the moment, when the last thread 
 was cut, and he 
 
 ' Clapt his glad wings, and soared away, 
 To mingle with the blaze of day :' 
 
 and under these views, I had said, ' Their loss is his infaiitc 
 gain.' — But again, I had thought of the bereaved partner, 
 and poor Mrs. Dickins, and Eloisa, and I wished I was 
 in Baltimore, yet dared not trust myself to bear the scene. 
 — But my friend lives ! glory, glory be to God ! — I am 
 revived ; my spirits have risen, all is well. Oh, my dear 
 Doctor, I am partly beside myself, and I know not what to 
 write ; but I shall recover myself, and my Father which is 
 in heaven, must be the only witness of the feelings which 
 now throb in my heart. 
 
 ' I'll praise Him while he lends me breath !' 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 217 
 
 " And now that I have received my dear friend again from 
 the dead, now that Lazarus has risen after being four days 
 in the grave, shall the love of Martha or of Mary exceed 
 the gratitude which I should feel ? And will not niy dear 
 friend join me in this, that He whose word maketh whole, 
 hath a right to all the revived powers we now possess ! 
 We are similarly circumstanced, and shall we not be 
 similarly excited ? ' While I Uve, I will praise the Lord ! 
 I will praise Him as long as I have any being.' And will 
 not dear Dr. B. take up the same resolution ? Oh, help me 
 to praise the Lord ! I am lost — ^lost — lost in goodness : I 
 am out of depth ! It is past finding out. 
 
 • Will not my dear friend join me in this entire consecra- 
 tion of my renewed existence? — Come now, say the words 
 —I feel them ; and may our common Lord accept the 
 -acrifice we now make : 
 
 ' If so poor a worm aa I 
 May to thy great glory live, 
 All my actions sanctify, 
 All my words and thoughts receive ; 
 Claim me for thy service ! — claim 
 All I have — and all I am !— 
 Now, my God, thine o^vn I am ! 
 Now I give thee back thine own ! 
 Freedom, friends, and health, and fame^ 
 Consecrate to Thee alone ! 
 Thine I live ! — thrice happy I ! — 
 Happier still, if thine I die ! — ' 
 28 
 
218 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 " Now are we sanctified — set apart to God ! — Oh, for a 
 greater measure of the influence of the sanctifying blood ! 
 It is yours — it is all yours, — and it is all mine ! May we 
 ever wash and be kept clean till the day of eternal 
 redemption. 
 
 " My health is recovering, but at present, it is a pain to 
 me to write, having at this moment a tartar plaster on my 
 breast, to create an artificial sore ; this must excuse the 
 scrawl I send you, which I query if you will be able to 
 read. Remember me very affectionately to Mrs. Baker ; 
 I have for some days offered up this petition for her : — ' O 
 my Lord ! be thou the husband of this widow ! marry 
 her to thyself !' The former clause may now want a Uttle 
 alteration ; but I trust she would make none in the latter. 
 Oh, that she may ever choose the Lord as her spiritual 
 head, maintain her garments pure, that she may be worthy 
 of a seat at the marriage supper of the Lamb. I trust 
 that Mrs. Dickins has had frequent opportunities of proving 
 during your late illness, the faithfulness of that promise, 
 ' as thy day is, so shall thy strength be.' — Tell her, I often 
 connect her with myself in these words, which raise my 
 heart on many occasions — 
 
 ' Our sufferings here will soon be past, 
 And you, and I, ascend at last. 
 Triumphant with our Head !' 
 
 " Present my kind regard to Eloisa, and my love to all 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 219 
 
 the little ones ; Oh, that the lover of httle children, may 
 gather all your httle ones as a hen gathers her chickens 
 under her wings ! Remember me to Mr. WiUiam Wilkins, 
 and to any who inquue about me. Farewell — farewell — 
 my pain tells me I must conclude — To God I commend 
 you all. 
 
 «J. SUMMERFIELD. " 
 
 Several letters, WTitten during his absence from home, 
 to various members of his family, might with propriety be 
 quoted here, did not the fear of prolixity forbid it. While 
 at Burlington, it was the concurrent sentiment of his phy- 
 sicians, that the restoration of his health would be most 
 materially promoted by a voyage to some of the West 
 India Islands. He therefore wrote to the Conference, then 
 assembled at Marietta, in the state of Ohio, for permission 
 to make the visit, and likewise for official testimonials. 
 From the seat of this Conference, he received, under date 
 of September 10th, 1822, an episcopal permissive letter, of 
 which the following is a copy :— 
 
 " Mr DEAR Brother, 
 
 " Your kind favour of the 28th ultimo, was duly 
 received yesterday, and its contents marked \vith the atten- 
 tion their importance demands. 
 
 " I rejoice greatly to hear of your returning health, and 
 hope that it may be fully confirmed. It certainly is a duty 
 we owe to our friends, the church of God, and to ourselves, 
 
220 
 
 MEMOIRS OP THE 
 
 to use every means within our power to preserve, restore, 
 and perpetuate our health. The course recommended by 
 your friendly physicians is probably the best calculated to 
 obtain the desirable object of your pursuit. 
 
 •• Having consulted Bishop George on the subject, we 
 both approve of the plan recommended by your friendly 
 physicians, and hereby give you full liberty to visit the 
 West India Islands, for the benefit of your health, and 
 strengthening of your constitution. As soon as your con- 
 veniency may point out the way, and prudence justify your 
 return, we shall be happy to see you, at any of the 
 Southern Conferences, or elsewhere, as a kind providence 
 may open your way to return to us again. 
 
 " The business of this Conference has progressed in 
 great peace and harmony ; — this is a large conference, sta- 
 tioning this year, one hundred and five preachers ; and in 
 addition to its ordinary business, it superintends the mission 
 to the Wyandott Indians : that mission is both important 
 and prosperous. Three of the chiefs attended the Confe- 
 rence : they had an interview with us in the Conference, 
 through the medium of an interpreter ; and on the sabbath, 
 one of them addressed the congregation, by way of exhor- 
 tation. He was very impressive and affecting, and spoke 
 much to the purpose. He gave great satisfaction to the 
 hearers, and there were many tears shed. It was a 
 pleasing scene to behold there our red brethren of the 
 forest unite with us in religious and devotional exercises. 
 
REV, JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 221 
 
 " The piospectg of the missions are pleasing, and we 
 hope they will increase in number and extent. Subjoined, 
 is your recommendation. And may the blessing of the 
 God of land and sea be your support in sickness and 
 health, in time and eternity. Adieu, perhaps forever as to 
 time ! 
 
 " I am your friend and brother, in Christ, 
 (Signed) "W. M'KENDREE. 
 
 « Marietta, Ohio, September 10, 1822." 
 
 With the foregoing letter was transmitted the subjoined 
 certificate : — 
 
 " The Rev. John Summerfield, the bearer hereof, is a 
 minister of reputable standing in the Methodist Episcopal 
 Church in the United States of America, and is travelUng, 
 by the advice of physicians, for the benefit of his health, 
 and is hereby recommended to the particular attention of 
 all our worthy brethren and friends, with whom providence 
 may place him. 
 
 (Signed) " W. M'KENDREE. 
 
 "Marietta, Ohio, Sq>tember 10, 1822." 
 
 His visit to New- Jersey brought him into contact with 
 several gentlemen connected with Princeton College ; and 
 the senatus academicus of this establishment resolved to 
 shew their sense of the piety and talents of Mr. Summer- 
 field, by creating him a Master of Arts. The following is 
 the Diploma : 
 T 2 
 
222 
 
 MEMOIRS or THE 
 
 Praises et Curatores Collkgii Neo CiESARiENsis. 
 
 Omnibus el singulii hoc scriptum lecturis, 
 Salutem in Domino sempitemam. 
 
 Cum gradus academici eum in finem instituti fuerxint, ut 
 viri ingenio et doctrina praediti titulis praeter caeteros insig- 
 nirentur, eo ut ipsis prosit, et inter homines scientiae et vii-- 
 tutiss tudium augeatur cumque nobis exploratissimum sit 
 Johannem Summerjield, virum ingenuum, moribus incul- 
 patum, de literis humanioribus variisque studiis honestis 
 optima meritum esse. 
 
 Nos igitur, Praeses et Curatores antedicti, praefatum 
 Johannem Summerfield magistrum in artibus renunciavimus 
 et constituimus, eumque, virtute praesentis diplomatis, sin- 
 gulis juribus, privilegiis et honoribus ad istum gradum qua- 
 qua pertinentibus frui et gaudere jussimus. 
 
 In cujus rei testimonium nostra nomina subscripsimus 
 et sigillum coUegii nostri huic membranae apponi fecimus. 
 
 Isaac H. Williamson, Prases. 
 
 Andrew Kirkpatrick, 
 
 R. Stockton, 
 
 Carolus Ewing, 
 
 Samuel L. Southard, 
 
 Samuel Miller, 
 Datum Aulffi Nassovicte, George S. WoodhULL, 
 
 Octavo Kalendas Octobris, JoANNES VaNCLEVE, 
 Anno Domini MDCCCXXn. RoBERT LeNOX, 
 
 Curatores. 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 223 
 
 In the month of October, Mr. Summerfield once more 
 embraced his family and friends in New- York. From 
 that city he wrote the following letter to liis yovmgest 
 sister, then on a visit at Rhinebeck. The spirit of frater- 
 nal affection which breathes through every line, must 
 render any apology for its introduction unnecessary. 
 
 « J>rew-York, October 24th, 1822. 
 
 " Mr DEAR Anne, 
 
 " If you are as anxious to receive a letter from us as we 
 are to see you eigain, you must be very impatient indeed ; — 
 I have undertaken to write to you myself, and I really 
 am vain enough to think you would rather receive a letter 
 from me than any of the family beside. 
 
 " I had anticipated for a long time the pleasure of paying 
 a visit to Rhinebeck, but one thmg after another occurred 
 to prevent me, so that I now despair of accomphshing 
 my wishes in this respect ; — however, as I do not expect 
 to sail for the West Indies before the middle of next month, 
 I hope to see you here, as I suppose you will be frozen 
 out of Rhinebeck before that time. 
 
 " I trust that my dear Anne conducts herself in all 
 respects worthy of her brother, and increases daily in 
 favour with God and man ; — you know I often talk of 
 you as a child of my own rearing ; therefore, never bring 
 my glory to shame. Fear God and keep his command- 
 ment? ; do not neglect any seasons of private prayer which 
 
224 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 present themselves, but call upon the Lord every day while 
 you have any being. 
 
 ' A flower, when offered in the bud, 
 Is no mean sacrifice.' 
 
 " I have full confidence in my dear Anne, that she will 
 do even more than I say ; never let a day pass without 
 reading a portion of God's word ; so you shall be made 
 wise unto salvation, and dwell with me, and your elder 
 brother — the Lord Jesus, for ever and ever. 
 
 All that I have said to you, appUes to my dear Catha- 
 rine also ; give her my best love, and tell her she must 
 be in this respect of one heart and one mind with you, 
 that so your intimacy may be continued in heaven, after 
 each of you have bid adieu to every earthly scene. Oh, 
 my dear Anne, think often on these things ; converse 
 frequently with death and the grave ; and pray to Him 
 who tasted death for you, to 
 
 ' Teach you to live, that you may dread 
 The grave as little as your bed.' 
 
 " I have had a peep into the grave lately ; and assure ^ 
 you, it is not so dark as fallen nature views it with the 
 eye of sense. 
 
 " Remember me affectionately to Mrs. Suckley, Mary 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 225 
 
 ;uid Sarah ; also, to Mr., Mrs. and Miss Garretson, and 
 (hank them very cordially for their kind wishes that I 
 should come to Rhinebeck; I fear they would have spoiled 
 me with extravagant kindness, — if indeed that is not 
 already done. 
 
 " Farewell, my dear Anne, — be good, and you will be 
 happv. 
 
 *' Your loving and affectionate 
 
 « JOHN." 
 
226 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 SECTION XIII. 
 
 Sails for France — interesting letters from Marseillet. 
 
 The state of Mr. Summerfield's health, requiring that 
 he should try the effects of a change of climate, it was 
 settled, as we have already seen, that he should for a while 
 leave North America and visit the West India Islands. 
 This projected trip, however, for which arrangements had 
 been made, was ultimately abandoned in favou" o a voy- 
 age to Europe, one great object of which, is clearly exhi- 
 bited in the following extract of a letter, written three 
 days before he sailed, to his " ever valued friend," Doctor 
 Baker : — 
 
 " While you are reading this, I am saihng on the deep ; 
 lift up your heart, and say, ' the Lord be with thy spirit !' 
 — the vessel is the fine new ship Six Brothers ; her desti- 
 nation is Marseilles, where we hope to arrive in forty-five 
 days. Our captain is every thing I could wish, and we 
 have one passenger, who will be one heart and soul with 
 me. I have been appointed a delegate from the American 
 Bible Society to the Protestant Bible Society of France, 
 whose Anniversary I shall have to attend in April next : 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 227 
 
 with my credentials, I carry letters of the most flattering 
 kmd to the Marquis de Jarcourt, peer of France, Mr. Gal- 
 latin, Marquis de la Fayette, American consuls, &,c. and a 
 fry of letters of introduction to ministers, merchants, and 
 private gentlemen ; — my ennui, therefore, in a strange 
 country, will be greatly reheved ; but the best of all is, 
 ' God is with me' — His favovir is better than life itself ! 
 Earthly pageantry fades away, when brought into compe- 
 tition with Him. Remember me at a throne of grace, 
 and expect to meet me there. It may seem a httle strange, 
 that having sent two prints of my portrait to your city, 
 one to Mr. Soule, and one to Mr. Harden, I have not sent 
 a third to my good friend in Light-street : the reason is, I 
 I have reserved the ' better thing' for you ; should I be 
 spared, and ever remove to Baltunore, I shall personally 
 present you with the original painting, from which the 
 print has been taken. And now, my dear Doctor, I com- 
 mend you and your's to Him who is able to keep you. My 
 time is short ; you shall hear from me when abroad. 
 
 " Farewell ; ever your's, 
 
 «J. SUMMERFIELD." 
 
 On the 25th of December, 1822, he took his departure 
 (rom New- York, in the ship Six Brothers, Captain Mason, 
 bo\md to Marseilles. It is due to Captain Wilhams, one 
 of the owners of the vessel, to state, that he generously 
 jave Mr. Summerfield a free passage to the port of their 
 lestination ; this kindness, added to the hberality of his 
 "rieuds, enabled the beloved invalid to remain abroad a 
 
32S MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 longer time, and with greater comfort, than otherwise he 
 might have done. 
 
 A selection from a highly interesting series of letters may 
 appropriately be introduced in this place, exhibiting as they 
 do, in the most striking manner, the movements, engage- 
 ments, and feelings of the writer. 
 
 [To Mr. Blackstock.] 
 
 Marseilles, 28th January^ 1823. 
 
 Mv DEAR James— 
 
 "I know not whether you will have heard of our safe 
 arrival before this letter reaches you, but at all events, / do 
 know that you will be very anxious to hear ; and I antici- 
 pate the pleasure which these lines will produce, while you 
 read them, one after the other, father, brothers, and sisters — 
 and T know not who besides. Yesterday, we dropped our 
 anchor in the port of Marseilles, safe and sound. — Bless the 
 Lord of winds and seas ! Oh praise the Lord with me, 
 and let us exalt his holy name together. 
 
 " Our passage has excited much wonder here — for truly 
 it was an uncommon one. On the third Sunday after our 
 departure we sailed past the Azores, the first European 
 land ; and so regular were we in all our movements, that 
 \ye reckoned to a day our time, and it was done unto us 
 ' even as we would,' 
 
 " We appointed in our arrangements, that on the fol- 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERPIELD. 
 
 229 
 
 lowing Sabbath we should pass the straits of Gibraltar, 
 and it was even so ; — on the evening of that day we were 
 clear entered the Mediterranean. We again continued 
 our confidence in the goodness of Him who ' holds the 
 winds in his fist,' and reckoned our arrival at Marseilles on 
 the following Sabbath ; — it was even so, that on the night 
 of that day we were riding in the bay, and the next day 
 arrived a pilot on board, and so made the harbour on the 
 tliirty-second day — at least a fortnight before our most 
 sanguine expectations. 
 
 " As tliis is merely a letter of advice of our arrival, I for- 
 bear to enlarge on any other subject. By the first vessel 
 that leaves this place for the United States, I intend sending 
 a letter to each of you, making half a dozen, and also to 
 some other of my New- York friends. This letter T 
 send by the way of Liverpool, and this must be a 
 suflScient apology for not writing to any other by this 
 conveyance." ***** 
 
 [To Mr. Francis Hall.] 
 
 Marseilles, Gth February, 1823. 
 
 Mr VERY DEAR FrIEND 
 
 "Before this shall reach you, you will have been aji 
 prized through Mr. Blackstock of the good speed we made 
 upon our voyage. I think I never experienced more settled 
 peace of mind than during that time, and it was as perma- 
 nent as it was perfect; like that steady sunshine of which 
 our "Wesley sings, when 
 u 
 
230 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 'Not a cloud doth arise to darken the skies, 
 Or hide for a moment my Lord from my eyes.' 
 
 I was a wonder unto myself — the word of the Lord seemed 
 sealed upon my heart, ' Thou wilt keep him in perfect 
 peace, whose mind is stayed upon thee, because he trusteth 
 in thy word !' I had not a moments uneasiness concerning 
 the happy termination of our voyage ; I felt that Jesus was 
 with me in my little state room, ' in the hinder part of the 
 ship,' and partially confined to it, as I was, by reason of the 
 wet weather, I found by experience that 
 
 ' Prisons can palaces prove, 
 If Jesus but deigns to be there.' 
 
 Whenever I threw the reins upon the neck of my 
 imagination, which I frequently did by way of relaxation 
 from severer studies, I found my thoughts involuntarily to 
 lead me back to New- York, instead of presenting me with 
 any airy speculations of the pleasure I should meet with 
 in my native land, while tramping up and down again the 
 scenes of my bopsh, but my happy days ; — truly, if the 
 wmd had veered round, whenever my fancy took this turn, 
 and our vessel had sped its course in the same direction, 
 you would never have heard from me at ' JMarseilles.' I 
 found, that though America was but lately to me a land of 
 strangers, my heart — my affections — all said it was now 
 my 'ifonie /' and thus, in a subordinate sense, where my 
 treasure was there was my heart also. — And indeed, when 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 231 
 
 I consider ihe friends that the ' Strangers' God' had raised 
 me lip, and then dwelt upon the ten thousand acts of kind- 
 ness which those friends have showed me for ' His sake,' I 
 could only wonder, love, and praise. 
 
 " Among this crowd, my dear brother Hall holds no 
 iecond place, and it is only in acknowledgment of a vast 
 debt of gratitude, which I can but confess — but never ;)ay — 
 that I write to him by the first conveyance this coimtry 
 has presented me with, in a vessel bound to Boston. I 
 had hoped for an interview on Christmas morning, but our 
 ship hauled away too early to permit it ; I had not taken 
 my leave in Walker-street the evening previous — your 
 kindness was at that time too oppressive to admit of it ; — 
 but perhaps it was well — for I know not how long the 
 ' farewell !' might have hung upon my tongue, and lin- 
 gered on my lips ; but I thought of you that morning, 
 though I saw you not, and sent more than one petition to 
 the Throne of Grace, that a ' prophet's reward' might be 
 yours, multipUed as much beyond the recompense promised 
 to a cup of cold water, as your sub^tetntial gift exceeded 
 that in value. May the hearer of prayer realize to you my 
 heart's desire, and fill you with all the fuhiess of his holy 
 love." 
 
 [To HIS Father.] 
 
 Marseilles, 1th February, 1823. 
 " Mr DEAR Father — 
 
 " My health is somewhat better than w hen 1 
 
232 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 left you ; indeed, considering the dampness of a sea atmos-' 
 phere, rendered still more so by the rain which fell every 
 day, more or less, until we entered the straits of Gibraltar, 
 it is remarkably so, I am now reaping the advantage of 
 the voyage, more than I was able to do at sea ; my appe- 
 tite is uncommonly good, but I only gratify it in the 
 plainest food. The soups of France are just what answer 
 me ; in most of them, no animal food whatever enters into 
 their composition — vermicelli, and other Italian pastes, 
 twisted in the shape of little worms, or rounded like a pea 
 or bean, form the substantial part ; the hquid appears to be 
 chiefly sweet oil, which is here very fine, and for which I 
 have acquired a high relish. My cough is much softer 
 than it was, and I expectorate with great freedom ; this, I 
 attribute in some measure to the drying up of the issue on 
 my breast — the other, on my arm, is also heahng ; so that 
 I will try the effects of this measure. I found they had 
 always the effect of making the cough hard and spasmodi- 
 cal, carrymg off the mucus which was secreted within, 
 without removing the radical disease. 
 
 '• I talce little or no medicine, endeavouring to produce a 
 change by diet and exercise. With regard to the latter, I 
 live methodically, and arrange to walk at least eight miles 
 every day, dividing it into four different times, to render it 
 more agreeable. In short, I have solemnly joined hands 
 Avith God, to preserve my life, and restore my poor and 
 feeble constitution ; I have devoted myself to Him afresh, 
 ' and promised in a sacred hour, for God to live and die.' 
 
EEV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD, 
 
 233 
 
 I can indeed say — for I really /eeZ it to be tme — this world 
 has no attractions for me, 
 
 * Tliere's nothing here deserves my joys, 
 There's nothing hke my God.' 
 
 I have therefore no desire to hve but for Him ; and I can- 
 not, my dear father, disguise the feelings of my heart, foi 
 I confess to you, I am rather unwiUing to go away so soon 
 after entering the lists against ' the god of tliis world,' 
 although I have a sweet foretaste that when I shall be ab- 
 sent from the body, I shall be present with the Lord ; yet 
 I feel as if I could endure this privation from His presence 
 for some time longer, lhat I may come down like a shock 
 of corn full ripe in its season, ' filled with the fruits of 
 righteousness, wliich are by Christ Jesus, unto the glory 
 and praise of God the Father.' When I reflect on the 
 word in which I tmst, ' that they who turn many to 
 righteousness shaU shine as the stars,' &c. I feel fired with 
 a holy ambition, which consumes me with its fervour. I 
 hunger and thirst after this, and I feel a cleaving to earth 
 that I may finish the work which I beUeve is given me to 
 do. If I could only hve to see ' many sons bringing home 
 to glory,' whom I might present to the Captain of our sal- 
 vation, I could then say, ' now lettest thou thy servant de- 
 part in peace, according to thy word, for mine eyes have 
 seen thy great salvation !' You know, my dear father, 
 and I know, and God knows also — and I blush even now 
 while I write it — that much of my life hos run to waste ; 
 u 2 30 
 
234 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 in the former part of it / lived to myself, and not to Him wlut 
 loved me, and gam himself for me ! I will not — I cannol 
 forgive myscK — no, never — But I want to make some 
 better return to my dying, risen Saviour — I wish to bear 
 the burden, and keat, and toil of a long — laborious — uell 
 spent day ; I wish to serve my generation by the will of 
 God, and then to fall asleep ! Oh, that God would grant 
 me my heart's desire and prayer — But if not — if my 
 spared life would not conduce to His glory — I could 
 gladly lay me down and die ! ' Lord God ! thou seest the 
 end from the beginnuig ! — do with me as seemeth good in 
 thy sight.' " 
 
 [to his second sister. 
 
 '^Marseilles, February lOth, 1823. 
 " My dear Amelia, 
 
 " In writing a letter to you, in common with the other 
 members of the family, I not only do myself a real plea- 
 sure, but I discharge, in some measure, at least by 
 acknowledgement — a debt of gratitude I owe you, and 
 which has been long accumulating, by your thousand name- 
 less attentions to my thousand nameless wants and anxie- 
 ties ; the remembrance of them is much more lively at 
 this distance of time and place, than when I received them 
 nearer, resembling some of those finer scenes of nature, 
 which we only accurately estimate when viewed in per- 
 spective, and at a distance. Nor are there wanting dark 
 spots in abundance on the scene, to serve as shadows in 
 setting off the lustre of the foreground ; I mean in the 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERPIELD. 
 
 235 
 
 indifference with which I too frequently received many of 
 those attentions, not considering that they derived their 
 value from the motive which actuated them, rather than 
 from their intrinsic worth. However, ' forgetting that 
 which is behind, and reaching forth to those things which 
 are before,' I trust yet to have years of opportunity, to 
 assure you of my sincere esteem and affection, during 
 which time, and till death shall make the separation finsd 
 as to this world, I desire, — and command you always to 
 regard me not merely as a brother, but as a friend ; ' a 
 friend' sometimes ' sticketh closer than a brother — at 
 least there is such a friend, and I have made him mine ; 
 I would fain recommend him to you ; ' if you seek him 
 he will be found of you' — and with special reference to 
 your lime of Ufe, He says, ' I love them that love me, and 
 they that seek me early shall find me.' 
 
 " After writing the preceding page, and reading it over. 
 I find I have been almost involuntarily led to a subject 
 which lies near my heart, with respect to you and Anne, 
 I have long felt it a duty I owed to you, to discourse seri 
 ously upon it, — but somehow or other, there is such a 
 backwardness to say that to one's relations, which can be 
 easily discoursed upon with mere acquaintances, that I 
 have put it off agam and again, frequently to my great 
 condemnation. At your age, my dear AmeUa, you must 
 be fully sensible that this is the time to form your character 
 in the world; — I say in the world, — for it is not enough 
 that yoin- family are acquainted with your regard for 
 
286 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 religious men and things ; there must be a profession 
 made of this your attachment, and a union foraied with 
 some people who love our Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity. 
 
 " Perhaps you would wish my advice on this subject, as 
 to what church you ought to make choice of ; — if left to 
 me, I would unhesitatingly say, ' follow my example 
 herein,' for although I see many things among the Metho- 
 dists which I could wish to be otherwise, — yet I sincerely 
 believe, take them as a body, they are the excellent of the 
 earth, and have most of the hfe of God among them, 
 
 " Do, my dear AmeUa, consider this matter with serious- 
 ness and prayer to God for wisdom to direct you, and let 
 me hear from you in answer to this, with your mind in 
 full. Whatever objections you might find to talk to me 
 about these things, you can have none to write to me 
 about them. I wish you also to lay the matter before 
 Anne ; she is old enough to serve the Lord, and T do 
 trust, that so far from her being a hinderance, she will be a 
 help to you. 
 
 " May the Lord enable you to lay it to heart ! May he 
 bless you, and keep you in his favour, fear, and love, all 
 the days of your life, and may I meet you and embrace 
 you among those who will stand with the Lamb upon 
 Mount Zion, after the heavens and the earth are fled 
 away. 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERPIELD. 
 
 237 
 
 •■ Farewell, my dear love, from the warm heart of your 
 affectionate friend and brother, 
 
 " JOHN." 
 
 [to his youngest sister.] 
 
 "Marseilles, February I2th, 1823. 
 
 " My dear Anne, 
 
 " As I promised in my letter to Mr. B to write 
 
 to each of you, your turn now comes on ; and yet what 
 have I to say more concerning my voyage than I have 
 already said to the rest of the family? You will only 
 expect the gleanings ; and as you are the least, you will be 
 satisfied with little things. — On the ninth day after we 
 sailed, we picked up at sea a httle passenger, that had 
 lost its way, and would certainly have been drowned in a 
 few minutes, if no help had arrived : it was a snipe, a 
 land bird that inhabits the swampy ground. We were 
 then about five hundred and fifty miles from the nearest 
 land, the coast of Newfoundland, and so exhausted was 
 the little creature, that it perched upon our rigging, and 
 suffered itself to be caught without resistance. The flight 
 of birds is very rapid, and they can bear up on the wing- 
 much longer than you may imagine. The surprise, there- 
 fore, which this httle straggler may occasion you, will be 
 much reduced, when I inform you, that birds called pigeon- 
 caniers, are employed by the Emperor of Turkey to con- 
 vey intelligence to him from the most distant parts of his 
 empire, and they ordinarily perform a journey in thirty- 
 six hours, which it would require eight days of cou- 
 
238 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 rier-despatches to accomplish. The plan is this :— A quan- 
 tity of these birds is kept in the seragho of Coiistantinople, 
 and from this aviary, a basket-full is occasionally sent to 
 distant governors, according as they are wanted. These 
 governors, on any urgent occasion, affix a letter of des- 
 patches to the legs or neck, or under the wings, of one of 
 them, and let it fly ; thus released, it ascends the air to a 
 great height, and by its powers of vision, which are incon- 
 ceivably acute, it then directs its way to the aviary at Con- 
 stantinople, nor ever misses its destination. All this is 
 performed without once ahghting to rest itself. To return 
 to our little companion : it appeared to have been blown 
 off shore the preceding evening, in a squall of wind, and 
 missed its way in the darkness of the night. We all agreed 
 to give the little fellow his passage free, and find him in 
 sea stores likewise, intending to release him at the first land 
 we should reach. For this purpose we put liim in a large 
 wooden cage, and gave him his supper ; but alas ! alas ! in 
 the course of the night Miss Pussy found her way to his 
 apartment, and jealous of a rival, she broke all the laws of 
 hospitality, and tore him in pieces ! Thus, he only escaped 
 a watery grave, to find one in the stomach of the cat. 
 
 " Besides the above incident, we had two other visiters 
 during our passage, but neither of them remained long with 
 us : two flying fishes aUghted on our deck — and lo ! our 
 black cook, imitating the bad example of the cat, seized 
 them, and put them in the frying pan. I was too sorry 
 for their fate to partake of them, when served up at table, 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD, 
 
 239 
 
 and could not help reflecting, that just such is man ! He 
 lives upon his fellow man, and lives upon the hves even of 
 his species ; and he is in general accounted the cleverest 
 feUow who rises to most eminence upon the most numerous 
 overthrows. 
 
 " I know not that any thing of importance occurred ex- 
 cept the above. I was a httle surprised that we saw no 
 other fish on the whole voyage except these unfortunate 
 ones — not even a whale, a porpoise, or a dolphin ; and ex- 
 cept that now and then the cat would march proudly into 
 our cabin with a poor mouse in her mouth, we had the 
 duU uniformity of getting up in the morning, eating three 
 limes in the day, walking the deck a little — interspersed 
 with intervals of reading, and let me not be ashamed to 
 add. intervals of private prayer also — and then going to 
 bed at night. 
 
 " At the time of our departure, we had on board a couple 
 of pigs, which shared a better fate than those on board the 
 General Lingan ; they hved and grew large, and are still 
 alive and well ; besides them, a sheep, but the cook's knife 
 rnteied his throat in the course of the voyage — and he is 
 no more ; — in addition to these, a very handsome goat 
 completed our stock of four-footed animals ; she supplied 
 us wilh milk all the passage, and was very playful, and 
 indeed very mischievous also : she w-ould pay me a visit in 
 my state room, at midnight, and eat the herbs and garlic 
 which were in the box under my birth ; — but poor Nan 
 
240 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 took sick about three days before we arrived ; from some 
 Spanish whiting which she ate, and we feared she would 
 have gone the way of the sheep, only by a natural process ; 
 however, I administered to her a bolus of sulphur and 
 butter, which had the desired effect, and by the time that 
 we arrived at Marseilles, she was well again. I received 
 the honourary title of Doctor, in recompense for this piece 
 of service, but now that I have left the ship, I have lost 
 the title ; it seems this is my sea title only ; however, I am 
 not so ambitious to preserve it as to take up the seafaring 
 life as my profession. I would gladly let go every title, 
 and remain on terra firma. 
 
 " I have thus filled you a sheet of paper, or rather spoiled 
 a sheet with useless stuff ; but it afforded me a httle amuse- 
 ment in writing it — and indeed much pleasure, when I 
 fancied myself conversing with my dear Anne. — I expect 
 she will write to me in return ; you must not say you 
 have nothing to say, for you see I have filled up a letter 
 fi-om — nothing, and this will show you, that the most 
 trifling subject may be made to spread and expand itself 
 much beyond its first appearances. 
 
 " I have written to Amelia on subjects more important 
 than these, and I expect she will show you the letter ; 1 
 conclude, therefore, this medley of incongruous matter, 
 with the a^urance of the sincerest affection of, 
 j " My dear Anne, 
 
 I " Your affectionate brother, 
 
 " JOHN." 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERPIELD. 
 
 [To Mr. Blackstock.] 
 
 "Marseilles, Februanj ISth, 1823. 
 " My dear Mr. B — , 
 " The subject of this letter will agitate you in various 
 ways, for it is of an uncommon kind ; that I may gi\(i 
 you the more particulars, I have taken a large sheet of 
 foolscap. Before I begin, I must premise, that before youi- 
 eyes are saluted with the intelligence, or your feelings- 
 affected by it, all the scene which follows will have passed 
 away. Read it therefore, and converse about it only ' as 
 of a tale that is told, or a shadow that disappeareth, or a 
 dream that passeth away when one awaketh.' I do not 
 think I should have touched upon it at all, considering 
 what a sensitive plant you are, and how soon any impres- 
 sion which is made on me reaches to yourself, — but that I 
 have mentioned it in some other of my letters to friends ; 
 and if I left you in the dark about it, you would conceive 
 the most alarming apprehensions, and raise a thousand 
 ghosts to haunt your mind by day and night. —To keej) 
 you no longer in suspense, therefore : 
 
 As I have already informed you, we arrived here on 
 Monday, 27th of January. Having sailed from a port, in 
 which the yellow fever prevailed during the previous sum ■ 
 mer, we were not permitted to touch the holy ground of 
 France that day ; on Tuesday, the Board of Health sa! 
 upon oiu- case, and mercifully determined (you know ' the 
 tender mercies of the wicked are cruel') to quarantine us {^}v 
 five and forty days ! — No French Consular certificates 
 AV 3 1 
 
242 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 with which the captain had provided himself, attesting the 
 health of his crew and passengers, and the city of New- 
 York in general, were of any avail ; it was enough that 
 the fever had been there, and that we sailed from the in- 
 fected city ; — the laws of the Medes and Persians were not 
 more ii revocable ! 
 
 " Mr. Cunningham and myself, the only passengers, 
 obtained favour in their sight, and concerning us it was 
 decreed, that if we chose to confine ourselves — or rather 
 he confined, — for it was involuntary on our part, — in the 
 prison of the Lazarretto for thirty days, we might be then 
 at hberty, and permitted to walk upon this land of freedom. 
 We dehberated upon the matter for a short time, and made 
 choice of it, on account of the shortness of time it pre- 
 sented, when compared with the former ; and the next 
 day, Wednesday, the 29th of January, — we were removed 
 under a guard, in an open boat, and conducted hither, 
 where we still remain in ' durance vile /' The same day. 
 Captain Mason had to sail out of the port to a small barren 
 island at some miles distance, cut off from all human in- 
 tercourse, tliere to ride out his quarantine, exposed to every 
 wind that blows ; he is now moored with three cables 
 ahead, and two astern ! 
 
 " As our little boat approached this dreary spot, I felt 
 myself inclined to ' play the woman ;' I could have shed 
 tears, while my mind ruminated in silence over the pros- 
 pect which lay before us. I !=aid to myself, 'is this the 
 
BEV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 243 
 
 reason wliy I came to France ? was it for this I left a com- 
 fortable home, anrl crossed the mighty deep, to be incar- 
 cerated in a French bastile ?' — But I broke the spell, and 
 kept the fountain of my eyes sealed up ; I remembered 
 I was in His hands, who had said ' all tilings shall work 
 together for good, to them that love God — and ' the 
 very hairs of your head arc all numbered !' 
 
 '•■\Vft were placed in a small apartment five yards 
 square, with two dark chambers leading from it for our 
 bed rooms, about thre3 yards square each ; the whole is 
 exactly on the plan of your garret, and the two rooms 
 leading out of it, only that our chambers had no light but 
 what they received from leaving open the door. The 
 entire was unfurnished, — nothing but bare walls, cobweb- 
 himg, and stained with the smoke from an old fire-place, 
 which our sitting room (your garret) alone contained. We 
 immediately encouraged each other as well as we could, 
 though my companion was considerably chap-fallen ; and 
 set about to furnish it in the best wny in our power. Hav- 
 ing a guard placed over us, who watches us with an 
 eagle's «ye both day and night, and sleeps in the sitting 
 room, (for so I must call it for distinction's sake,) we dis- 
 patched him to a hotel, so called, (where all our victuals 
 are prepared; it is within the prison walls ;) and ordered 
 furniture : we received a deal table, and two old chairs, 
 all of which appeared to have been used from the founda- 
 tion of the building — 1667 — and three or four deal planks 
 to sleep on. with two iron bearers to carry them ; however, 
 
■M4 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 as this promised very hard fare for sleeping accommodations, 
 we afterwards procured for money (for any thing can be 
 liad even here for money) two sacking bottoms and frames, 
 much hke your cots ; we had the precaution to bring beds 
 and bedding from the ship, Captain Mason having kindly 
 ofi'ered the privilege, and thus we escaped the company of 
 those midnight vermin, with which similar articles in this 
 place abound. Having thus furnished our apartments, (which, 
 by the bye, have cold brick floors, both sitting room and 
 bed chambers.) we turned our attention to the side-board, 
 or rather to our little three shelved cupboard, which stands 
 on the right of the fire-place, and is the only fixture in the 
 room, except two pieces of iron let into the hearth-stone, 
 by way of andirons. This we furnished with two tea 
 cups and saucers, two or three white plates, a couple of 
 knives and forks and spoons, a salt and a pepper cellar, 
 and a candlestick, all of earthenware, except the knives, 
 (fcc. We also obtained an earthen jug in which we boil our 
 Avater for tea, and a smaller one to serve for a cream eicer — 
 rather a milk pot — but which necessity obliges us to con- 
 vert to sundry other purposes, such as boiling our icashing 
 dishes water, serving as a shaving mug, &.c. &c. 
 
 I believe I have given you a list of our furnitme in 
 all its departments ; necessity, however, the mother of in- 
 vention, compelled us to increase this inventory by several 
 little articles, which we manufactured at our leisure : such 
 ns a pair of snuffers, by a piece of wood prepared in the 
 form of a clothes peg, — this we use by pressing the open 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 245 
 
 ends together : a set of fire irons, by two sticks, which serve 
 eitiier as pokers, when used separately, or tongs, when 
 held in eacli hand, and applied together, &c. &c. ; in short, 
 we l)ave found out many improvements in housekeeping, 
 which may benefit us in after life. — Our mode of living 
 would amuse you, were you behind a curtain, and observ- 
 ing us ; our dinner, we receive from the hotel — whatever 
 we order, — but our breakfast and tea we make ourselves. 
 Our tea-table is spread much as follows : a wliite teacup, and 
 saucer, and spoon, on each side ; a plate with butter, and 
 a plate to hold the loaf, stand at the extreme end ; a salt 
 seller occupies the middle spot, to season tlie butter, which 
 would be othenvise unpalatable ; — a blue paper is then 
 opened and laid on the table, containing our sugar, and 
 a similar one opposite to it, with our tea ; — a couple of 
 knives complete the whole. Having taken our seats, and 
 thus put into requisition every article in the room, we take 
 each a spoonful of tea, and putting it into our cups (having 
 no tea-pot to draw it in) pour the water on it, &c. &c. 
 using our fingers for sugar tongs and other things, as like 
 need requires : and I do assure you, I have made many 
 a pleasant meal within these walls, and felt a grateftil 
 heart I 
 
 " You will excuse the pleasantness of the manner ih 
 which I have described these things ; it is not my usual 
 style, but I feared you would droop under the view of our 
 privations, had I chosen any other, We know not yet 
 what the expense may be for each of us, but we suppose 
 
 TV 2 
 
246 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 it may be about ten dollars a week ! Enough — and to 
 
 spare ! 
 
 I shall now give you an account of the caution with 
 which our intercourse with our guard and others is carried 
 on. Everyone, you must know, views us as infected with 
 the yellow fever, and acts accordingly ; if any have to pas^ 
 us by, they take the windward side, for " our very breath 
 breathes pestilence !" If we have occasion to send a letter to 
 town, to any of those friends to whom we were introduced 
 from New- York, it is received from us, by a long paii- of 
 tongs, held by a man at full stretch ; this letter, he plunges 
 in a vessel of vinegar, till it is thoroughly soaked, and for fear 
 of contagion inclosed, he pierces it through with four holes 
 by a mallet and a sharp iron applied to it on a block ; it is 
 then fit for use, and is despatched accordingly. Indeed, if 
 you would form a correct idea of the abhorrence connected 
 with our persons, and the distance observed by every one 
 who spies us in his path, you will best conceive it by 
 remembering the treatment of lepers under the Jewish 
 law. A rattlesnake is not more shunned than we ! 
 
 " When we first came here, our restrictions were mucli 
 greater than at present ; we were confined to a Avalk in 
 front of our cell, which is eighty-seven yards long by four 
 wide ; up and down this, I generally exercised myself in 
 promenading eighty times a day, equal to eight miles,- 
 this I perform at four times; to this little space we wei< 
 conlined for the first fifteen days ; thi^ expired the daj 
 
i 
 
 REV. JOHN SUMMERPIELD. 247 
 
 before yesterday. We are now allowed a much larger 
 field of action, though still not without the accompaniment 
 of our guard. After we had been six days in confinement, 
 we were closeted in our little cell, and stoved with burning 
 brimstone, similar to the mode of destroying bugs ! I 
 thought I should have been sufllbcated ; I flew to the door 
 for air, but it was held by an officer outside ; — it threw me 
 into a paroxysm of coughing, which shook me to my 
 heart's core — but, thank God, it had no worse conse- 
 quences. In nine days more, namely, the fifteenth of 
 our confinement, we underwent a second stoving in the 
 same way, together with all our clothes, trunks, &c. every 
 article being spread upon lines drawn across our sitting 
 room ; — after this, finding no spots, black, blue, green, or 
 yellow, to break out upon us, we were considered as half 
 cleansed, and had our promenade privileges extended ac- 
 cordingly. I beUeve we are only to have one other appU- 
 cation of the fumes of brimstone, namely, on the day of 
 our departure ; this 1 shall look upon as a genteel turn out — 
 but whether after so much smoking we shall leave the 
 place sioeeter than we entered it, is a matter very doubtful 
 with me. 
 
 '• Amidst it all, I enjoy my health excellently well, and 
 nil up my time by writing and reading several hours a 
 day ; added to this, the exercise of making up my bed- 
 i hamber, sweeping the rooms with a birch broom, making 
 ihe fire, boiling our earthen kettles, preparing breakfast, 
 vl'c. <fcc. and wTiting to my friend? — altogether, makes mv 
 
248 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 time go pleasantly along, nor was my flow of spirits ever 
 better in my life. 
 
 " We have a little Catholic Chapel at the end of our 
 promenade, and here I find seasons of retirement for con- 
 versing with Him who seeth in secret, and knows my 
 situation in all its secret parts — ^with Him who directs all 
 things, and does all things well ; — and here, though pros- 
 trated before a crucifix, and a host of images, calculated to 
 sink the soul to earth's inmost centre,* I enjoy that fellow- 
 
 * In a long letter to his valued friend, Dr. Baker, dated five 
 days earlier than tlie one cited above, occurs the following pas- 
 sage in reference to his devotional exercises in the little chapel 
 alluded to : — "I often feel at a loss to say, ' whether in the body 
 or out of the body !' I had a sweet season there this morning, 
 and I find my hour is again drawing nigh— there I will remem- 
 ber you and yours, and not only praise on your account, but 
 strive io pray that you may be 'overwhelmed with all ^is weight 
 of love .'' Oh, this weight of love. It was this which constrained 
 our Fletcher to cry out, ' Lord, hold back !— forbear thy hand !' 
 He feared the vessel would break ; but will you not permit me 
 rather to say, ' Lord, expand the capacity, enlarge the measure, 
 make Thyself room, — and fill — fill — fill the holy and the 
 holiest place, till all their souls be love .'' Amen and Amen 
 How ardent were his spiritual aspirations in this little oratory ! 
 And with what interesting associations do we recognize this de- 
 voted preacher, while here excluded from the city on suspicion 
 of being infected, manifesting that entire consecration of him?el{ 
 to God, which is said to have characterized Marseilles' good 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIF.LD. 
 
 249 
 
 ship with the Father, and with His Son Jesus Christ, which 
 the world knows nothing of. There, also, I remember 
 each of you by name, from my dear parent down to Arme — 
 and oh, how sweet those moments are ! I trust you all 
 remember me. Pray for me that I may soon be restored 
 to you all in health of body and vigour of mind — to part no 
 more, till death shall do his office. 
 '• Farewell, ray dear James. 
 
 " Ever affectionately yours, 
 
 " J. SUMMERFIELD." 
 
 The following extreict is from a letter addressed by Mr. 
 Summerfield to a young man, a near and dear relative, 
 who had imbibed sentiments, or perhaps rather adopted a 
 course of conduct, unhappily but too prevalent with many, 
 Avhose immature talents are so sharpened by unholy dispu- 
 tation, that they find it indifferently easy to defend or op- 
 pose religious doctrines. 
 
 ''Marseilles, Uth February, 1823, 
 
 '• Permit me to warn you of one rock on which 
 
 many have split, and round which you often delight to 
 play— I mean the arguing against that which you (not- 
 withstanding) beUeve to be true in its nature, and that en- 
 
 Bishop," who remained so heroically with his people during the 
 great plagiie, that he is poetically said to have drawn 
 
 " purer breath, 
 
 When Nature sickened, and the gale was death !" 
 32 
 
250 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 tirely for the love of opposition. You may think yourself 
 safe, and smile at tlie concern wliich you have thereby 
 caused to your opponent — you may think, ' I have done no 
 harm, I firmly believe that you are right, though I have 
 taken the opposite side for the sake of argument' — but I do 
 assure you, and experience will prove it to be too true, that 
 this disposition indulged in, will so put you upon seeking 
 out objections to those doctrines which you inwardly ac- 
 knowledge, that in a short time you will have per- 
 suaded yourself into the belief that they are mightier than 
 the evidence of truths which you have not yet been equally 
 careful to collect, and which you begin to think you re- 
 ceived from the prejudice of your nurse, or of education ; — 
 this will lead to the preferring error to truth, although in 
 time you may appear to be sincere in this preference, and 
 please yourself with thinking you have equally weighed 
 both sides, and given an impartial decision ; the old adage 
 will nevertheless be found correct, that ' truth lies at the 
 bottom of the well' ; — it may be covered with error and 
 ignorance, which are always found near the surface. 
 
 " To bring these general remarks to a particular bearing, 
 let me intreat you first of all to satisfy yourself of the Divine 
 origin of the sacred Scriptures, if indeed you have any 
 serious doubts thereon. Its evidences flow in upon you 
 with a flood of Ught, if you seriously connect prayer to the 
 Father of Lights for his superintendence and direction. As 
 to human productions, I recommend to you the first volume 
 of Home's Introduction to the Study of the Holy Scriptures, 
 
KEV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 251 
 
 ♦fcc. <fcc. Having ascertained the Bible to be the Word of 
 I God, you should implicitly obey all its contents. Your 
 belief should not be rendered easy or difficult by the pro- 
 babiUty or improbability of the subject, by its plainness or 
 its abstruseness — but be always simply determined by the 
 authority of the Revealer — ' the mouth of the Lord hath 
 spoken it,' therefore I receive this doctrine^ and credit that 
 fact. This obtains even with regard to human testimony ; 
 I and if we believe the testimony of men of undoubted in- 
 I tegrity and truth, the testimony of God is greater. To 
 believe no more of God, or of His Word, or of His works, 
 than we can comprehend, or reduce to some of our modes 
 of knowledge, is not to honour the authority of God at all ! — 
 yea, 'tis actually a reflection on His wisdom and veracity — 
 on His wisdom, as if He could tell us no more than we 
 know — on His veracity, as if He were not to be trusted if 
 
 He could. In short, my dear , the word of God is 
 
 not matter of opinion or speculation, when its divine authen- 
 ticity is ascertained ; — it is judgement — settled laic — decided 
 truth; — it reveals in the way of judgement, or decision, that 
 man is fallen, is in danger of hell-fire, and can only be 
 saved through the sacrificial death of Jesus Christ, co-equal 
 and eternal with the Father ! It is useless to oppose these 
 truths — ih&y must be submitted to; — the Gospel commands, 
 not proposes — it must be obeyed ! ' Repent, and believe 
 the Gospel !' May God speak this word to you v.ith 
 power I'' 
 
 On the 27th of February, Mr. Summerfield was allowed 
 
252 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 to leave the Lazaretto, " in good healtli and with a giate- 
 ful heart." In a letter to his father, he says, " My mind 
 was not free from uneasiness on this subject during the 
 whole time of my confinement ; for if I had been taken 
 unwell in any way, I could have had no reUef, but by 
 being sent to the Hospital ; and any complaint with which 
 I might have been afflicted would have been regarded so 
 suspiciously as a sprout of yellow fever, that the time of qua- 
 rantine would have been prolonged, and my fellow passen- 
 ger would have suffered in the same proportion." 
 
 [To HIS BROTHER WiLLIAM.] 
 
 "Marseilles, March 1st, 1823. 
 " I have been too short a time at liberty to say an} 
 thing of the country ; what little I have seen is not pre- 
 possessing : you will not expect that / should view it very 
 minutely in any of its bearings but those which are con- 
 nected with a rehgious point of view : on this subject, the 
 scene is awful ! If the jest were not too serious a one, 
 some christian Diogenes might parade the streets of Mar- 
 seilles at noon day, with a lighted taper in his hand, in 
 quest of one religious man ! I dare not enter into particu- 
 lars, — that must be matter of conversation when we meet." 
 
 " I am as anxious to arrive at Paris, as I am to quit Mar- 
 seilles ; I received a letter from there yesterday, which may 
 . be compared to one of those dehghtful resting places, 
 Avhose freshness meets the longing eye, and satisfies the 
 wearied limbs of wayworn travellers amid the burning 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 253 
 
 sands of the desert of Zaara : I expect to write to some 
 of you from tliat city. Meantime, with kind remembran- 
 ces to each and all of you, 
 
 " I am, my dear William, 
 
 " ever your affectionate brother, 
 
 "JOHN." 
 
 [To HIS BROTHER WiLLIAM.] 
 
 " Jlarseilles, .March SOth, 1823. 
 " This city is the most ancient in France, having been 
 built 600 years B. C, which brings it to 150 years after 
 (he building of Rome. It was founded by a colony from 
 the ancient city of Phocia in Ionia, and its inhabitants are 
 still proud to preserve their original name of Phocians ; — 
 its importance increjised so rapidly, that it soon became an 
 illy of the Romans, — an honour not allowed to every ap- 
 jlicant for that distinguished privilege. 
 
 " The arts and sciences appear to have flourished here, 
 is much as military accomplishments, if the ancient motto 
 )f the city be to be depended upon ; it reads thus in Eng- 
 ish, — in which language I prefer to give it to you, as I 
 !o not know that you pretend to much knowledge in 
 ''rench — ' Massilia, the davghter of the Phocians — the sister 
 f Rome — the terror of Carthage, the rival of Athens.^ — So 
 luch concerning its ancient splendour. Its modem ap- 
 earance makes a very soiTy figure in the contrast ; — for 
 Ithough Strabo, the ancient geographer, speaks of it as 
 06 of the most superb cities in his time, no traces what- 
 
254 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 ever are to be found of its former grandeur ; all that 
 remains even of its antiquity that I have seen, are a feW 
 columns of an ancient temple of Diana, which now form 
 some of the buttresses of a modem temple of Mary, the 
 wife of Joseph the carpenter. There are also some old 
 columns, standing outside the city upon a site once occu- 
 pied by a temple of Apollo, but which have not been con- 
 secrated to any modem deity, — I suppose the partiahty of 
 the catholics runs in favour of women, and the transition 
 was not great between Diana and Mary, whom they have 
 put in her stead ; indeed, nothing is to be seen in their 
 temples throughout the city but shrines for the devotees of 
 the modern goddess. 
 
 " I have remarked that these are the only remains I 
 have met with of the antiquity of this city ; and of its 
 splendour and former magnificence, I have discovered none. 
 So long as it remained a free city, such as Hamburg, Bre- 
 men, &c., I believe it flourished beyond any other co- 
 temporary ; but subjugated as it now is to royal authority, 
 it presents the same contrast with its former greatness, 
 which those cities present with their neighbours in the 
 petty states and sovereignties by which they are surround- 
 ed. Marseilles first lost its liberties in the close of the 
 twelfth or beginning of the thirteenth century. In 1226, 
 the citizens repurchased it, and maintained it with all that 
 spirit which liberty inspires, against the Counts of Pro- 
 vence, &.C., till the time of Louis the 14th, when that 
 mighty monarch brought them tmder the yoke, deprived 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 255 
 
 them of all their ancient rights and Uberties, and fenced 
 them in with fortresses and citadels, which yet remain the 
 wonder of the present day. This was in 1660, ever since 
 which time it has languished under the weight of royal 
 imposts, (fee. So that you can hardly decide whether it is 
 a living or a dying city. Its harbour is the only source of 
 its present importance in the scale of French cities, in 
 which it ranks the fourth — Paris, Lyons, Bourdeaux, and 
 Marseilles, being the order in which they are classed ; 
 its population is from 120 to 130,000 inhabitants. 
 
 " In the year 1720, the plague was imported from 
 the Levant, — and most terribly it ravaged the whole 
 province of Provence ; in this city alone it slew from 
 fifty to sixty thousand uihabitants. This is the rea- 
 son of the severe quarantine to wliich I have been sub- 
 jected, and may in a great measure plead the excuse for 
 that barbarity. The narrow lanes of this city — for streets 
 they are not, — and the high houses, five or six stories, 
 every apartment of which contains perhaps an entire 
 family, would aflbrd fine riot for that dreadful disease, 
 should it again obtain admission : I speak now especially 
 of the old city ; the new part is not so constructed. 
 
 " There is not perhaps within the Mediterranean, so 
 fine and secure a port as this. It lies in the heart of the 
 city, surrounded by high hills, so that no wind, not even 
 the Euroclydon, which is spoken of in the Acts, and which 
 was the cause of St. Paul's shipwreck, — could have any 
 
256 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 effect upon the vessels that enter here. The port is very 
 spacious, but the entrance so narrow that two ships could 
 not pass : on each side of this entrance is a strong fortifi- 
 cation, which would render the place impregnable ; — they 
 are the work of Louis the 14th. There is, however, one 
 disadvantage connected with it ; there is no river or stream 
 flowing into it, and the water is therefore never changed : 
 the tide does not raise it more than six inches, and carries 
 away no part of the ancient filthmess. It is much Uke 
 the Old Dock in Liverpool — and you may conceive what 
 that would he, if it were not cleansed at certain seasons J 
 this is worse — inasmuch as there is no possibility of emit- 
 ting the old water : in the heat of summer, I am told it is 
 scarcely possible to walk near it ; mdeed, when we were 
 approaching it from sea, a slight breeze meeting us from 
 the mouth of the port, conveyed with it so filt :y an odoui-, 
 that 1 could scarcely endure to keep on deck ; and yet, 
 sweetened as we were by the Atlantic breezes, we were 
 not thought pure enough to enter the cleanly harbour of 
 this noble city ! — you see I cannot forget my quarantine. — 
 — This is a busy season here ; last week presented strange 
 sights to me ; — what processions ! what profusion of lighted 
 candles carried about at noon-day, as though to put out 
 the sun's glare with their superior splendour ! what saints 
 on canvass and wooden angels did I not behold ! what 
 ridiculous dresses did the priests assume ! what singing, 
 sighing, shouting, in every part of this christian city 
 during the solemnities of the Passion week ! — and then 
 on Good Friday, — Oh ! my soul sickens — I am truly sick 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 257 
 
 at heart ! O Lord, arise ! help, and deliver, for tliine ho- 
 nour ! Yes, my dear WiUiam, I have seen Popery in its 
 dress — its finest dress ! May I live to see it in its nakedness 
 — or at least till its skirts are cut off ! — It must come down 
 — the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it ! 
 
 'And terribly shall Babel fall ! 
 And never more be found at all !' 
 
 But I forbear ; you will say I am running into my old 
 strains ; — well, — if they are old, they have improved by 
 age ; — the more I try the power of heart religion, the 
 better I like it. That my dear brother may experience it 
 in all its vigour, is the constcmt prayer of his affectionate 
 and sincere friend and brother, 
 
 « JOHN." 
 
 [to his youngest sister.] 
 
 "Marseilles, March 30th, 1823. 
 
 " Mt dear Anne, 
 
 " I have every disposition to gratify you, although 
 the matters upon which I may make observations to you, 
 are only fit for such little Tarry-at-Home travellers as 
 yourself. If I were to detail every thing which I meet 
 with in the manners of this nation, you would tliink them a 
 vastly strange people ; it is necessary therefore, that I must 
 forewarn my dear Anne against rash judgement herein, 
 and caution her agauist supposing that Enghsh or Ameri- 
 can manners are any standard for any other people than 
 EngUshmen or Americans. Frenchmen would smile as 
 y2 33 
 
258 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 much at some of our customs as we do at theirs, and 
 indeed go farther, even looking upon us as seraibarbarians, 
 in raising food to our mouths by means of a knife ; they 
 substitute a large silver fork in its stead, wliich they dex- 
 terously manage in their right hand, &c. &c. but what 
 of all this ? If they think that an egg ought to be broken 
 at the small end first, and lec think it should be at the 
 broad end, let .both parties laugh if they like, at each other's 
 supposed ignorance, without knocking their heads together. 
 In one word, my dear Anne must ever consider that cus- 
 tom is arbitrary, — that is, as any people may choose for 
 themselves ; — and except it opposes the laws of nature, or 
 the settled and prescribed rule of the oracles of God, we 
 have no right to condemn it. 
 
 " What, for instance, would you tliink, if you saw the 
 lower class of Frenchmen wearing wooden shoes, and 
 horse cloth stockings drawn over their pantaloons half wa}' 
 above the knee ? and yet I see this every day. Or again, 
 what would you think if you saw the women acting as 
 porters to carry loads, &c. while the men are lounging 
 about or sitting under a sunny wall side ? and yet you 
 would see groups of thirty or forty at many parts of the 
 city, with great baskets, &c. waiting to be hired. Al- 
 though both these examples which I have given do not 
 recommend themselves as any improvement upon our own 
 habits, yet there are some others in which the French 
 appear to have the advantage. For instance, great com- 
 plaint is made in New- York respecting the adulteration of 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 259 
 
 mUk, and lacrometers have been invented to ascertain the 
 extent of the fraud ; but here it is effectually prevented ; 
 the milkman or woman brings the cow to your door, and 
 there milks her for the quantity you take, going round 
 witli her in the same way to aU the customers. The 
 greater part of the milk, however, is obtained from goats, 
 and truly they are the finest breed I ever saw : we have 
 nothing hke them m America. They are very large, and 
 their fine shaggy hair reaches almost to the gromid ; these 
 are brought into tliis city in companies of ten or twelve 
 under one person, and this every morning ; they know 
 their rounds so well, that the herdsman has no trouble, and 
 they go tinkling along with their Uttle bells about their 
 necks, and stand at the doors where they are accustomed 
 to be milked. They are so docile, that the keeper has 
 only to call the one by name that he wishes to milk, and 
 the httle creature skips upon the steps and wags her tail, 
 as if proud to be thus picked out from her companions, 
 who stand by all the while, till the operation is performed. 
 They are not timid hke sheep ; for if a dog — no matter 
 how large, comes near them, they run at him with their 
 horns, and if he does not make the best of his way from 
 them, he wiU come off with the worst of it. — Again, the 
 industry of the lower and middUng classes of women is 
 much more than the same in America ; (how it is witli 
 the higher classes I do not know, but I suppose they are 
 much the same as their kind all the world over ;) youwUl 
 see these same female porters I spoke of before, employing 
 their time in knitting, till they have a job, and it would do 
 
260 
 
 MEMOIRS OP THE 
 
 you good to see them squatting down on thek baskets as 
 busy as bees ; — those in the middling class, who come to 
 market, to sell their little farm productions, (for observe 
 this is all done by women,) are busy knitting all the way, 
 riding upon their ass or mule upon the market panniers ; 
 indeed this is their only mode of conveyance, as very few 
 horses are to be seen in this part of the country. I have 
 often been deUghted with these signs of industry : if a 
 woman is carrying a load upon her head, her hands are 
 not dangUng by her side, but she knits as she trudges on ; 
 if she is drivuig home the market-cart, sitting on the front 
 ridge, you see her employed in making bass mats all the 
 way ; and even if you stop to talk with one, she will be 
 working all the time she is talking with you. Surel)'^ iai 
 these respects, although in other matters we may smile, 
 we might learn a useful lesson for our feir ones in Ame- 
 rica. — BeUeve me, my dear child, ever your affectionate 
 friend and brother, 
 
 " JOHN.^' 
 
 Such was the style of elegant playfulness, in which liis 
 affectionate mind condescended to indulge for the purpose 
 of beguiling that anxiety, which his absence, under such 
 peculiar circumstances, created in the family circle. His 
 soul, however, was entirely absorbed in the grand purpose 
 of his life — " If there is a scene within the universe of 
 God, (says he in a letter from Marseilles,) calculated to hft 
 our minds to heaven, — if there is a scene calculated to 
 bring down the heavenly host to earth, — ^it is that which 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELO. 
 
 261 
 
 pourtrays iii anticipation, the final triumph of the * Gospel 
 of the Grace of God ;' yes, the Gospel must ultimately 
 and miiversally triumph ! well may we exclaim, ' what au 
 object is this !' It is the fairest scene which the pencil of 
 heaven, dipt in the colours of its own rainbow, can deline- 
 ate ; and even the great voice, issuing from the eternal 
 throne, can utter nothing more exhilarating and sublime, 
 than the consummation of this event, — ' Behold the taber- 
 nacle of God is ^vith men !' " 
 
262 
 
 MEMOIES OF THE 
 
 SECTION XIV. 
 
 Writes to the Young MerCs Missionary Society — Paris — 
 Speech at the meeting of the Protestant Bible Society of 
 France — Reply of Mons. Billing — Letters. 
 
 The reader is already aware, that besides the quest of 
 health in a more mild and salubrious climate, Mr. Sum- 
 merfield's visit to France was as the bearer of the official 
 congratulations of the American Bible Society, of wliich 
 he was a Director. He had hkewise been solicited, pre- 
 viously to liis embarkation, to draw up the Annual Report 
 of the New- York Young Men's Missionary Society, of 
 which he was President. This he consented to do, in the 
 prospect of having much time on his hands during the 
 voyage. Contrary, liowever, to the expectations of all par- 
 ties, they made the passage so quickly, and the motion of 
 the ship was so great, that he was prevented from accom- 
 plishing his design. Instead of the Report, he transmitted 
 from Marseilles, under date of February 20, 1823, a very 
 pleasing letter, which was read at the current amii- 
 versary in John-street Church, on the evening of the 21st 
 of April. Those who were present on that occasion will 
 not soon forget the impression which the encouraging words 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 263 
 
 of one so dear to them — spoken as they were from " a far 
 country,"' and under such peculiar circumstances — made on 
 the minds and the hearts of the meeting.* 
 
 On the 5th of April, Mr. Summerfield arrived in Paris, 
 [via Lyons,) after a fatigiiing journey of six days and 
 nights — his health, on the whole, but very Uttle, if at aU, 
 improved. On the 16th, the Anniversary of the Protestant 
 Bible Society of France was held in Paris. On tliis occa- 
 sion, the address which he had prepared, and which had 
 been translated into French by the Dutchess de Broghe, 
 was delivered by Mr. WUder ; the author's diffidence of his 
 ability to speak elegantly a language, in which, neverthe- 
 less, he was a proficient, deterred him from pronouncing it 
 himself. 
 
 The following is the address. It was pubfished in the 
 American papers as a translation, {from a translation;) I 
 suspect, however, that it is the original : — 
 
 " My Lord — It is with unaffected humility that I rise 
 to address you upon a subject which has now become too 
 vast for human description, and far removed above the 
 eulogy of human praise. The Bible Cause has attained 
 such a glorious lustre, that it is hke a mirror polished by 
 
 * This address is printed in the Fourth Annual Report of the 
 Young Men's Missionary Society, auxiliary to the Missionary 
 Society of the Methodist Episcopal Church, New- York, 1823. 
 
264 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 the hand of heaven, and the breath of the earth-bom worm 
 who attempts to point out its beauties, rather sullies than 
 correctly delineates them. Still, humiliating as this con- 
 sideration is, and strange as the paradox may appear, we 
 approach it with a degree of confidence, for the very reason 
 that it is the Bible Cause, firmly persuaded, that although 
 no tongue is adequate to the description, yet it cannot 
 suffer in the weakest hands ; for the testimony concerning 
 it is BO supremely excellent, as to dignify any kind of lan- 
 guage ui which it may be conveyed. 
 
 " I have the honour, my Lord, to represent upon this 
 occasion the American Bible Society, by whom I have been 
 delegated, to congratulate the Sister Society of France on 
 her past success, and to assure her, that the place which 
 she holds in the sympathies and affections of her elder 
 Sister in the West, is second to none ! I would that 
 another and a worthier Representative had been chosen, 
 or that my head were frosted with the winters of threescore 
 and ten, that weight of years might have combined with 
 the warmth and zeal of youth, to express the ardency of 
 her affection and esteem ; but since, by the grace of God, 
 I am what I am, I dared not suffer any consideration of the 
 weakness of the creature, to interfere with the promise of 
 Him, who ' out of weakness can make strong, and call 
 forth things that are not, as though they were.' 
 
 "The statement which has been read has briefly 
 sTcetched the leading outlines of the last Report of the 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 265 
 
 American Bible Society ; and yet, exalted as must be the 
 views of all who heard it, concerning her great success. I 
 am proud to say, that were your Lordship to visit our 
 happy shore, you would find cause to exclaim with the 
 queen of the South, when beholding the glory of Solo- 
 mon — ' the half was not told me !' Truly, my Lord, ' the 
 word of God has free course among us' — ' it runs,' — it out- 
 strips the wind — ' and it is glorified !' Opposition, which 
 for a time shewed its hideous shape, and Proteus-like, as- 
 sumed another and another form, has now quitted the 
 field — or, if objectors still remain, they are hke the scat- 
 tered firagments of a broken enemy, hanging on the care- 
 less outskirts of the victorious army by whom they have 
 been conquered, for the mere purpose of teasing by cow- 
 ardly and fruitless annoyance those whom they cannot 
 overcome. Every anniversary is with us a jubilee ; we 
 then indent another and another to the thousand triumphs 
 with which the monument of its far-spread fame is 
 covered ! 
 
 There was a phrase, my Lord, in the statement I 
 allude to, with respect to America, to which I would offer 
 a brief remark. You have been pleased to style it a^rec 
 ( ountry; — it is so ; — but, my Lord, the liberty which reigns 
 there is not pecuhar to America ; it is the privilege of king- 
 doms as well as republics — and the British and Foreign 
 Bible Society, ' which is the mother of us all,' has demon- 
 strated, that the more the people are acquainted with the 
 sacredness of the relation in which they stand 'to the 
 z 34 
 
266 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 powers which be, and which are ordained of God,' — 
 the firmer are the pillars of that authority under which 
 they are governed ; — this relation can only be truly made 
 known by that very gospel which it is the sole object of 
 the Bible Society to disseminate. The bible, my Lord, th( 
 bible, I repeat it, is suited to every pohtical meridian ; to 
 the towering spirit of the high minded repubUcan it holds 
 up no sceptre, but the sceptre of that monarch, whose 
 ' kingdom is not of this world ;' while to the subjects of 
 royalty it proclaims the first law of the throne, ' render 
 unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's.' In the camp, it 
 softens the rage of war by the sweet command of peace, 
 ' love your enemies ;' while in the cabinet it mollifies the 
 asperity of national pride, by that injunction of eternal 
 justice, ' do unto all men as ye would that they should do 
 unto you.' 
 
 " The report of the Protestant Bible Society affords a 
 pleasing testimony, (if testimony were yet needed,) that 
 the Bible Society is the cause of God ! I shall return to 
 the land from whence I came, with a heart warmed with 
 what I have seen and heard to day, and there, in a lan- 
 guage with which I am more famiUar, communicate the 
 glad news, that in France — notwithstanding the torrent of 
 infidelity which has been poured forth within the last 
 thuty years, and which threatened to deluge the land — a 
 spark still survived which ' many waters could not quench;' 
 ■ — and that now there are more than ' seven thousand men 
 who have not bowed the knee to the image of Baal !' I 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERPIELD. 
 
 267 
 
 shall tell them, my Lord, that in France there are men 
 who, not affected by the giddy pinnacle upon which high 
 descent and noble birth have placed them, have laid their- 
 honour, their reputation, their wealth, at the foot of the 
 cross, counting it their greatest honour to bear ' the burden 
 and heat' of this glorious day, in which the Sun of Right- 
 eoosness is shining in His strength ; in a word, my Lord, 
 I shall tell them, that in France there are kindred souls to 
 those which dwell in transatlantic bosoms, and that many 
 a heart is tuned in full accordance with the angel's mes- 
 sage, ' Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, 
 good will to men !' 
 
 " Mention has been made in your report of the decease 
 of our lamented Boudinot, the late President of the Ame- 
 rican Bible Society. You have sympathized with us m 
 our loss. Although time has lent its mellowing hand to 
 alleviate our grief, yet still we mourn ! Hr was, in a sense, 
 one of you ; he became one of us ; but God has put in His 
 claim against us both, and has taken him to himself! He 
 has been removed to a brighter scene, to a higher mount 
 than Pisgah's top, from whence he may behold the pro- 
 gress of that cause which was the pabulum of the last 
 years of his Ufe, and kept him above the power of death ! 
 But I dare not trust myself to enlarge on this tender 
 theme : you will meet him, my Lord, after you have ceased 
 from your work and labour of love, as he has done from 
 his ! /, too, look forward to that scene ; till then I have no 
 expectation of seeing your lordship more, nor this august 
 
268 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 assembly over whom you so wortliily preside ; but there 
 we shall meet again ! Oh, that we may all be found faith- 
 ful at that day, and counted worthy to be crowned with 
 glory, and honour, and immortality, and eternal life ! Then 
 shall we join the song of the redeemed, ' unto Him that 
 loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood, 
 and made us kings and priests unto God and his Father ; 
 to Him be glory and dominion for ever and ever. Amen.' " 
 
 At the conclusion of this address, which was received 
 with enthusiastic applause, Mons. Billing, one of the 
 Secretaries of the Society, rose, and repUed as follows : — 
 
 " Sir, — A more eloquent tongue than my own should 
 have responded to the affecting address which has just been 
 read in your name by our beloved colleague, Mr. Wilder ; 
 but the worthy assesseur, who expected to perform this 
 duty, being prevented by his official engagements from 
 attending our anniversary, the office devolves on me ; from 
 this circumstance, you, sir, and the audience, will excuse 
 the brevity and imperfection of my address. 
 
 *' The Protestant Bible Society of Paris, cannot but feel 
 .deep emotion, to see among the number of distinguished 
 characters that have honoured this anniversary with their 
 presence, a young preacher of the word of God, who has 
 crossed the Atlantic ocean to offer to us the expression of 
 brotherly affection in behalf of the Bible Society of the 
 United States, — a Society, which from the immense ter- 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 269 
 
 ritory it embraces, the number of its auxiliaries, and the 
 success that has crowned its efforts, occupies one of 
 the first places in that vast system which now encom- 
 passes the whole globe, and which, by deriving from the 
 wonderful art of printing every possible aid for the dissem- 
 ination of the bible, promotes the taste for reading it 
 among Christians, and pubUshes it in their native tongues 
 to the nations, now plunged in the darkness of idolatry. 
 
 " The sacred scriptures were conveyed to the shores of 
 your continent, by the nation by whom it was first dis- 
 covered, and in part conquered. — The horrible circumstan- 
 ces, under which the gospel was first presented to the 
 monarch of the Mexican empire, we need not now call to 
 mind. They were the fruits of human passions, let loose 
 by war. and by the thirst for conquest. Let us beware of 
 attributing them to rehgion. The spirit of genuine Chris- 
 tianity is mUd and tolerant ; it forms the basis of civihzed 
 society, and its propagation among idolaters, never had, 
 and never can have, permanent success, but when esta- 
 blished in a manner worthy of its heavenly origin. 
 
 " Your happy country, sir, was peopled by Europeans, 
 who fled their native land to avoid reUgious persecution. 
 France has furnished her share of this population. You 
 bring this to our recollection, in naming the pious Boudinot, 
 the first President of your society, to whose memory we 
 have aheady paid a just tribute. The times are changed 
 in France, as well as in England, and, to speak only of 
 z2 
 
270 
 
 MEMOIRS OP THE 
 
 our own country, you now behold us, sir, re-established in 
 all our rights, civil and rehgious. Under the sceptre of 
 the august dynasty, to which the destinies of the kingdom 
 have been for so many ages confided, we not only enjoy 
 our peculiar worship as publicly as Christians who profess 
 the reUgion of the state, but also all those institutions 
 which spring from freedom of religious worship, and 
 among others, the one, on whose anniversary we are this 
 day assembled ; — where we hear what is doing throughout 
 the world for the increased diffusion of the Holy Scriptures, 
 and have opportunity of contributing to it according to our 
 means. The situation in which our government places 
 us, by the laws of the kingdom, is not less favourable 
 than that of Pi otestants in other countries of Europe, where 
 the Royal Family and the majority of the subjects profess 
 a different religion, and in which the progress of know- 
 ledge is not so far advanced as in our own country. Pub- 
 lic opinion, we dare believe, is in our favour, for our object 
 is simple ; it seeks no concealment ; we discuss our mea- 
 sures publicly ; we meddle not with pohtical questions. 
 We are humble agents in the advancement of His king- 
 dom, who repeatedly declared, ' My kingdom is not of this 
 world,' and who taught his disciples to pray to their hea- 
 venly Father, ' Thy kmgdom come.' 
 
 "Our prayers, sir, accompany you to your country. 
 May this voyage have the happy effect on your health, 
 which you anticipated in undertaking it ! May you live 
 long to exercise the sacred functions of the office you have 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERPIELD. 
 
 271 
 
 assumed ; and may your countrymen realize the great 
 expectations excited by the commencement of your mi- 
 nistry ! 
 
 " Permit me here to add my expressions of regard for 
 your countrpnan, Mr. Wilder, who has on this occasion 
 presented your address, and who, after a long residence in 
 France, is about to revisit his native land. It is with the 
 most lively regret that we lose the co-operation of a man 
 so zealous for every thing that'tends to advance the inte- 
 rests of piety, and who knows how to proportion his con- 
 tributions not only to his fortune, but to the wants of the 
 niunerous uistitutions which he has aided us in forming ; 
 a christian, in whom simphcity of manners, and all the 
 domestic virtues, are in harmony with the doctrines which 
 he professes and propagates. In whatever place he may 
 hereafter reside, we assure him that we shall ever remem- 
 ber him, and shall each, in the particular sphere in wliich 
 we act, strive to be imbued with the spirit which animates 
 him, and to imitate his conduct." 
 
 The following extract from a letter addressed to Doctor 
 Marinus Willett, in New- York, just before Mr. Summer- 
 field quitted Paris, will be interesting in this place. 
 
 " On Wednesday last, was celebrated the foiu-th anni- 
 versary of the Protestant Bible Society of France, and a 
 more pleasurable sensation I never experienced ; no, not 
 even in America. — The commission with which my bre- 
 
272 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 thren in that country had honoured me, placed me in a 
 much higher situation than either they or I could ever 
 have calculated upon ; and truly I was loaded with ' many 
 honours,' as St. Paul's phrase is. For a moment, I fancied 
 myself in New- York, and could not but dwell upon the 
 similarity of my situation when I first addressed the Bible 
 Society there, and my present. I remembered that I had 
 just arrived, a stranger in a strange land, unknowing and 
 unknown ; and yet from that very hour, what friendships 
 did not the Providence of GTod lead me to form ! friendships 
 which will run parallel with the days of eternity ! Here 
 I was in a land still more strange, with whose very lan- 
 guage I was not familiar — and yet to tell you of those 
 Christian hearts who immediately mingled their flames of 
 love with mine, and formed one common glow, would be a 
 pleasing task indeed, but one,'with the particulars of which 
 I should not like to gratify my friend, lest it might feed one 
 latent spark of that dreadful vice which was the condem- 
 nation of the devil, and which may yet remain alive in 
 my poor heart, although I assure you I am unconscious of 
 its existence. The manner in which these anniversaries 
 are conducted in France, is far different from ours — but 
 the advantage is greatly on our side. Such is the jealousy 
 of the Catholic interest, that a mandate has been issued, 
 requiring each speaker to ivrite his address, in order to its 
 being submitted in propria foitna to an inquisitorial com- 
 mittee duly appointed ! You may conceive my situation 
 and my feelings ; — however, though thus cramped up into 
 the space of a nutshell, I compUed, and endeavoured to 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 273 
 
 prepare something that might not be obnoxious : it was 
 poor work indeed, ai\d afforded no opportunity for that 
 lively discourse which an unshackled privilege would 
 have produced. The Dutchess of BrogUe, daughter of the 
 late Madame de Stael, kindly undertook the translation of 
 it into French ; and at the time appointed, not caring to 
 read it myself, on accomit of my ignorance of the 
 Parisian accent, as it is called, Mr. Wilder favoured me 
 with Ms services, whilst I stood beside him hke a statue. 
 It was received in a way highly flattering to my American 
 feehngs, and a very neat address was dehvered in reply by 
 one of the Secretaries." 
 
 Notwithstanding, however, that Mr. Summerfield was 
 on this occasion "flattered even beyond sufferance" — to 
 use his own phrase — and met with the most affectionate 
 treatment from many Christian friends, he was not at all 
 in love with the French capital. Besides, in his opinion, 
 Paris was not the place for an invalid ; indeed, he doubted 
 " whether a sound man could find any thing hke home in 
 it." In a letter to his father, he says : " My health is much 
 as when I last wrote you ; my cough, though somewhat 
 better, yet remains ; — indeed, soon after I arrived at Mar- 
 seilles, the weather took an unfavourable turn, and it has 
 been excessively cold. I have often said, ' Oh, that I had 
 the wings of a dove, then would I fly away to New- York, 
 and never think of seeking a fine climate in France again. 
 I do not think that the weather is worse with you, than it 
 is at this very time, and Paris is the dampest place I have 
 35 
 
274 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 oeen in for a long time ; this, with the keenness of the air, 
 is killing — however, I will not terrify you by saying any 
 more about it." PoUtical affairs, too, wore a gloomy aspect 
 in France, " and every body," says he, " appear to be 
 seeking refuge in their native land, especially if they have 
 been so favoured as to call that land England or America." 
 HappUy for Sunimerfield, he had ties of kindred in both 
 countries ; having therefore received oflBcial documents for 
 the President of the American Bible Society, he hastened 
 to revisit once more the land of his nativity. 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 276 
 
 SECTION XV. 
 
 .Srmes in England — Fairfield — jrreaches at Liverpool — let- 
 ters — attends the Conference at Sheffield — visits many other 
 places — his health but little improved — letters. 
 
 Mr. Summerfield, on his arrival in England, sought the 
 Moravian settlement at Fairfield, near Manchester, at 
 A hii h place, as already stated, he had spent five happy 
 ( 01- at school, and where one of his uncles continued to 
 c-ide. Here he found one of liis cousins, a young man 
 u enty-one years of age, lying in the last stage of a con- 
 umption. Delicate as was his own health, he devoted 
 )ini-rlf assiduously to administer such friendly assistance 
 ud spiritual consolation to his dying relative, as the nature 
 ■{ the case required. For a full fortnight he tenderly 
 matched the death-bed of his beloved cousin ; nor did he 
 ^ave him till death had closed liis eyes. It was the only 
 istauce, during his ministry, in which he had been called 
 pon to see a person die, and his feelings, as may be sup- 
 osed, were exercised a good deal on the occasion. 
 
 Ill the month of November, 1828, the writer of these 
 ages paid a visit to Fairfield, in compaijy with his esteemed 
 
276 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 friend Mr. J. Everett, of Manchester. Interesting as this 
 tranquil retreat of such an exemplary church community 
 as the United Brethren, must have been to the visitors 
 under any circumstances, yet on the present occasion, the 
 genius loci derived its principal charm from its association 
 with the history of Summerfield, in whose memory they 
 felt mutually interested. There was the school-room, in 
 which he had been taught, with the book containing the 
 records of his entry and departure as a scholar ; and a num- 
 ber of happy tyros "disporting on the margent green" of the 
 enclosure, as he had done in his day. There was the 
 chapel with its fine organ — the tones of which he had so 
 much delighted to accompany with his juvenile voice — 
 for he was ever fond of singing. There, in one of the 
 dwellings, were more touching memorials of his later 
 visit — an engraved likeness — the couch beside which 
 he knelt, while reading to, and praying for his cousin 
 Joseph — his little American pocket testament left behind, , 
 with a leaf still turned down at 1 Corinthians xv. ; and | 
 the presence of his uncle himself, who, with his eyes ' 
 overflowing with tears, referred to the incidents of this 
 earthly interview. And lastly, the neat sequestered 
 cemetery, so remarkable for its simplicity, where (to adopt | 
 a single line from the poet, whose description of the bury- j 
 ing place of the patriarchs in " The World before the ' 
 Flood," is supposed to be delineated from a Moravian grave 
 ground :) i 
 
 " The little heaps are ranged in comely rows," jU 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 277 
 
 and over one of which the surname of " Summerfield" 
 was inscribed.* This visit, so interesting from these asso- 
 ciations, was rendered yet still more so by the courteous 
 affability of the Rev. Mr. and Mrs. Polilman, the resident 
 minister and his lady. 
 
 Mr. Summerfield was mvited, and actually announced 
 to preach in the chapel at Fairfield, (a distinction never 
 conferred upon a methodist preacher before,) and a large 
 congregation assembled accordingly ; but the arrival of an 
 official visitor at the time, and the death of the resident 
 bishop, Moore, prevented this. 
 
 [To Mrs. Blackstock.] 
 "Fairfield, near Manchester, June Wth, 1823. 
 " Mr DEAREST Ellen, 
 
 " Your long and grateful letter came to me this morn- 
 ing ; it had been left at Fairfield by Mr. Congreve, yester- 
 day, although I lost the pleasure of seeing him, having 
 gone to Manchester. Last night, I spent an hour or two 
 ^vith Mr. Sands ; he proceeds to day to Sheffield and Leeds, 
 where I expect also to be in ten days or a fortnight, but must 
 first proceed to Livei-pool to-morrow. In Ameha's letter, 
 I have mentioned the afflictions of my uncle's family : it 
 ••calls to my mmd my own, and especially on this very day 
 last year. Mr. B. will never forget that day, when stand - 
 
 * " Joseph Summerfield, departed, June 8th, 1823, aged 21 
 years." 
 
 2 A 
 
278 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 ing by my bed in Doctor Sargeant's chamber ; — every 
 moment I expected my change, — and having no power 
 to speak, on account of the incessant bleeding from my 
 lungs, I made signs for a writing-table, and being bolster- 
 ed up in bed in a sitting posture, I wrote the enclosed 
 paper ;* it was never seen by any other eye, and in giving 
 it to you, it is not for any other reason, than to put you in 
 mind of that day ; and to excite your gratitude and thanks- 
 giving to Him who held my head above the water floods, 
 and again said ' Live !' Oh that it may be to his honour 
 and glory ! 
 
 " With regard to my spared hfe, I can say Uttle as to 
 its long continuance ; certainly I shall never see threescore 
 years and ten : — I am only anxious to Uve to the Lord 
 while I live, and die to Him when I die, that living or 
 dying I may be the Lord's." 
 
 On Sunday the 22d of Jmie, he preached in Leed's- 
 street chapel, Liverpool. " It is," says he, when writing 
 liome, " the first time since my arrival in England ; and 
 yet, although I name this to show you that I am not quite 
 dead, you must not infer that because I have begun I shall 
 continue ; — no ; it will be very, very, very, seldom repeated, 
 and I shall always inform you when it is." — His jomnal 
 was altogether neglected during the year of his sojourn 
 in England ; but it is gratifying to learn from the follow - 
 
 * This letter inclosed the testamentary paper given page 210. 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 279 
 
 ing extract — indeed from bis correspondence generally, 
 that while his body was confined by the weakness of the 
 flesh — his soixl was at the same time ^' jirogressing^^ in 
 holiness. 
 
 [To Dr. Samuel Baker.] 
 
 "Liverpool, June 23cf, 1823. 
 " My dear Friend and Brother, 
 
 " I know you will expect to hear something concern- 
 ing myself, — and tliis is the cross which my friends com- 
 pel me to bear daily ; I would rather write on any other 
 subject. Well, then, I find that Jesus Christ is the same 
 yesterday, to-day, and for ever ! He is my unchangeaLla 
 friend. He is my all and in all; of late He has been tem- 
 pering down the natural hardness of my heart, that it may 
 receive some deeper impressions of the mind which was 
 also in Him ! I mourn over the baseness of ths material 
 upon which this is to be wrought, but still I do feel that 
 the more I contemplate and behold the gloiy of my Lord, 
 the more I am changed into the resemblance of the origi- 
 nal, by the spirit of the Lord. — But what have I said ? — 
 And yet is not this the very perfection of our dispensation ? 
 — Oh that Ave may press after the fuhiess of the stature 
 of a man in Christ Jesus ! I have lately dwelt much on 
 those inexhaustible words of the apostle John : ' Beloved, 
 now are we the sons of God ! — and it doth not yet appear 
 what we shall be /' I cannot giasp them, — tliere is a world 
 of meaning in them ! — ' It doth not yet appear !' It is not 
 
280 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 yet made manifest : but it shall appear, and the world 
 which now knoweth us not, shall witness the manifestation 
 of the sons of God ; for conformed to our Head, ' we shall 
 be hke Him !' — what can this mean ? — utterance fails — 
 the heart cannot conceive — 
 
 ' We fall before his feet, 
 
 And silence heightens heaven /' — 
 
 " As regards my poor body, it is yet compassed about 
 with infirmities ; my general health is tolerably good, and 
 except this cou 'k of which I complain, I am as I have 
 been since I knew you ; my cough is of a singular cha- 
 racter, for although I expectorate considerably with it, no 
 weakness is produced, and my natural strength is good ; 
 I can walk for hours without fatigue, and eat my 
 food abundantly, and with good relish. I am living with 
 a physician in this town, with whom I have been asso- 
 ciated from my childhood, and brought up at the same 
 school, and alnwst fed at the same table. Yesterday morn- 
 ing I preached for the jirsl time in England in one of the 
 largest chapels in this town, and felt no inconvenience 
 consequent. 
 
 " Remember me affectionately to all my friends in Bal- 
 timore, and first of all to my friend and brother Soule y 
 upbraid liim for not having written to me, — and yet this 
 would come with no weight from you, seeing you are in 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 281 
 
 the same condemnation. Mrs. Dickins, Mrs. Baker, 
 Eloisa. and all the children, share my love. 
 
 " Believe me to remain, 
 
 " my dear Doctor, ever your's, 
 
 "J. SUMaiERFIELD.^ 
 
 At the physician's house" alluded to in the preceding 
 letter, " I had," says the Rev. W. Stewart, " the pleasure 
 of meeting my beloved Summerfield ; I was greatly 
 affected at witnessing his pale and emaciated appearance ; 
 I inquired of the Doctor, in his absence — ' Do you think 
 it |x)ssible, Mr. S. can recover ?' the Doctor replied, ' with 
 great care, he may live two years, but he cannot possibly 
 live longer.' In this the Doctor manifested his consimimate 
 skill, both with reference to the case and constitution of 
 his friend. My very heart sighed, and said — 'alas! my 
 brother.' 
 
 [To Samuel Harden, Esq.] 
 
 " Liverpool, July lOth, 1823. 
 My health is much as when I last wrote ; the Good 
 Physician still holds me m hfe, though with a slender 
 ihiead : I do not yet know the end of his dealings with 
 me in this respect ; but, he is too wise to err, and too good 
 to be unkind, — He will do all things well. I cannot pro- 
 mise myself long life, as far as human reasoning directs, 
 t liough with God all things are possible. — All my desire i?. 
 that I may yet stand before Hiin in his sanctuary a little 
 2 a2 36 
 
'^o* MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 longer to point poor sinners to the scene on Calvary— the 
 bleedmg Jesus — 
 
 ' Happy, if with my latest breath, 
 I may but gasp His name j 
 Preach Him to all—and cry in death, 
 Behold, behold the Lamb !' 
 
 M)' heart was much rejoiced yesterday by a circumstance 
 Uttle looked for : a man called upon me, to acknowledge 
 me his sphitual father, of whom I had not the most distant 
 recollection ; he lives in Arklow in Ireland, and having 
 heard that I was in England, he set off for no other pur- 
 pose than to lay his eyes on me, as he said, once more. 
 He informed me that four years ago, as I was preaching 
 in that town, in the open ah, ' for no other place was large 
 enough to contain the multitude^' God converted his soul, 
 and gave him a clear evidence of his acceptance, which 
 he has since retained. He remmded me of the text on the 
 occasion — ' They that sow in tears shall reap in joy ;' and 
 I found that he had the sermon almost witten upon his 
 heart. These are comfortable results of our weak labours ; 
 we see not now the fruits ; it is often not until after the 
 labourer has fallen asleep, that the seed springs up ; and the 
 death of the minister has often given birth to many pre- 
 cious souls, who had been heretofore only hearers of the 
 word ; — may this thought comfort us continually, and may 
 we know the application of the Apostle's words, in more 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 283 
 
 than their primary sense, < for me to live is Christ, — but to 
 die is gainJ '' 
 
 In a letter to Mrs. Blackstock, dated Liverpool, July 10th, 
 1823, occurs the following passage, "your second letter of 
 the 13th is almost exclusively devoted to the subject of my 
 health and my return home ; I know they are both inte- 
 resting subjects, and often mix themselves with the fireside 
 conversation, and often afford a theme to break the silence 
 wliich sometimes exists in the chief seat of the table. 
 My health ! and my return home I — I feel myself growing 
 dull,— or rather sorrowful ; home is a word which has a 
 spell in it, and I am now operated upon by it almost to a 
 momentary melancholy. Sometimes I view the distance 
 so great, and so measure the ocean that rolls between us, 
 that I start and say, ' shall I ever see that place again !' At 
 other times, I am so buoyant, that I consider it but as two 
 steps, by one of which I take my foot off Europe, and by 
 the other, set it on America ; I believe, however, both these 
 ways of viewing it are erroneous — they are the extremes ; 
 may God help me to overcome all difficulties, and bring 
 me to the desired haven !" His letters to liis j'ounger 
 sisters, to his father, and to Mr. Blackstock, breathe similav 
 sentiments. 
 
 On the 30th of June, the British Conference opened at 
 Sheffield, at which place it is sexenniaUy held. At this 
 celebrated mart of cutlery, Mr. Summerfield spent about 
 a week, during which he was domiciled with my wortliy 
 
284 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 friend Thomas Branson, Esq. — partaking the elegant 
 hospitahties of this gentleman's house with his old and 
 valued friend Dr. Townley, and the Rev. Mr. France, who 
 having travelled at Preston, was not unknown to the 
 family. His appearance was very unhealthy ; his counte- 
 nance, formerly so fair and delicate, appeared to be puffed 
 up, and shghtly cadaverous in its hue : he complained 
 chiefly of a pain in his side, which was so violent one 
 night, that he told Mrs. Branson, (who nursed him with a 
 mother's care,) in the morning, that he had with difficulty 
 refrained from caUing them up, in order to obtain the 
 assistance of a surgeon to open a vein. 
 
 At this Conference, — to the sittings of which Mr. Sum- 
 merfield was freely admitted, and treated with great 
 respect, — the Rev. Messrs. Richard Reece and John Han- 
 nah were appointed to proceed to the United States, to 
 reciprocate the friendship of the American Conference, 
 which had been expressed four years before, by their re- 
 presentative, the Rev. John Emory. It was agreed that 
 Mr. Summerfield, on his return home, should accompany 
 these gentlemen to America. Ultimately, however, this 
 arrangement was overrided by unforeseen circumstances , 
 and I am happy in being able to account for an incident 
 unpleasant to the feelings of both parties, in the words of 
 Mr. Hannah himself :— " That Mr. Summerfield did not 
 accompany Mr. Reece and myself in the same ship, was a 
 source of great disappointment to us ; but it arose entirely 
 from a private cause. Mr. S. was waiting for his brother. 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 385 
 
 T\ lio had been spending some time I think in Prussia ; and 
 when he found that he was unable to sail so early as we 
 intended, he expressed a wish that we would wait a fort- 
 night longer. This it was impracticable for us to do, as 
 our arrangements were fully fixed. We were, therefore, 
 under the necessity, though with painful reluctance, of 
 taking our departure without him."* 
 
 After his return from Sheffield, and having visited, 
 among other places, Frodsham, Birmmgham, Manchester, 
 Liverpool, and Runcorn, he took up his residence with 
 Anthony Badley, Esq. a gentleman of piety and fortune, 
 liieii residing at Weston HiU, near the latter place. Wliile 
 under the roof of his kind entertainer, a portrait was 
 jminted of this "in every respect, extraordinary young 
 vmn,'" as Summerfield is justly designated by Mr. Badley. 
 This picture, v. hich the worthy owner regards as a " beau- 
 tiful hkeness," has been by him courteously transmitted 
 for the author's inspection : may Mr. Badley be long spared 
 to contemplate this precious memorial of such a friend in 
 his present residence — Llanrhydd House, in the far famed 
 and beautiful vale of Ciwyd, North Wales. 
 
 Towards the latter end of the year, he opened a hand- 
 some new chapel at Bilston in Suffolk ; it is to a print of 
 this house, that he refers in the last clause of the following 
 extract of a letter to his youngest sister : " I have of late 
 
 * Ex Epist. J. H. penes me, Feb. 28th, 1829. 
 
286 
 
 MEMOIRS OP THE 
 
 more resembled the wandering Arab than the domestic 
 European, and have hterally had no certain dwelling place. 
 However, lest you should imagine, that like the Arabian, I 
 have been dwelling in tents, and not m ceiled houses, I send 
 you an engraving of one of my visiting places — and a 
 most lovely one it is, as ever you saw." 
 
 [To Dr. Samuel Baker.] 
 
 ^'Liverpool, October 24th, 1823. 
 The climate of England has been more congenial 
 to me in every respect, [than France,] and I rejoice to say 
 that my inner man is renewed day by day ; I love my 
 Master, and I love his work ; I love his wages, and I love 
 his servants ; and if I hate any thing, it is my own hfe. — 
 for I count not my life dear to me, that I may finish my 
 course with joy, and the mmistry which I have received 
 of the grace of God. As respects my bodily health, it is 
 greatly improved, and 1 now look forward, with some well 
 grounded hope, that I shall be restored again to your 
 prayers, — if it be but for a little season. 
 
 " I am now directmg my face toward America ; God 
 is my record how greatly I long after you all ! Early in 
 the year 1 hope to take my departure, — but you shaL hear 
 from me before that time, so as to know my final arrange- 
 ments. I have just returned from Birmingham, where I 
 have spent a month most dehghtfully ; I was a good deal 
 with Mr. and Mrs. Foxall, who are both well, and now 
 travelling among Mr. F's. relations in Wales." 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 287 
 
 The following letter was addiessed to Captain Williams, 
 a member of the Baptist Church, who generously gave 
 Mr. Summerfield a free passage from America to Mar- 
 seilles, in the fine ship l^ix Brothers^ of which he was the 
 owner : — 
 
 " Runcorn, December 22d, 1823. 
 *' My dear Captain Williams, my christian friend and 
 brother, whom I love in the truth. 
 
 " At this season of the year, it is natural that I should 
 liave you much upon my mind ; — not that I have ever 
 forgotten you, for God is my record, that I have good 
 remembrance of you in my prayers ; but at this time 
 especially, when I am reminded of my departure from my 
 family and friends, as on tliis week, a year ago, I cannot 
 but connect with this recollection, the grateful feeUngs 
 which pervade my whole soul towards you. I have never 
 thought of you, but with affection ; — and I have wondered 
 Avhat could have moved your unmerited kindness to me, 
 who was altogether a stranger to you ; it was not the 
 'friendship of the world,' — this induces every man to look 
 on his own things only, and weigh accurately the profit 
 that would accrue from every transaction ; but your dis- 
 interested kindness bears a higher stamp than nature ever 
 impressed, — I see in it the counterpart of an apostle's 
 doctrine, ' loving Him that begat, we love them also that 
 are begotten of Him :' and unworthy as I am to be ac- 
 counted a disciple of our common Lord, yet you have done 
 
288 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 what you have done in regard to this relationship. I can 
 only endeavour to heap blessings on your head ; thanks is 
 a poor return, — and I should mourn over my poverty much 
 more in reference to my fi iends, if I did not remember 
 who hath said, ' a cup of cold water even, given to a disciple 
 in the name of a disciple, shall not lose its reward.* — I can 
 boldly, therefore, transfer my debt to Him who has promised 
 to repay ; I feel confident that my God will supply to you 
 all my lack out of His riches in glory by Christ Jesus ! 
 Thanks to you, my dear friend, again and again ; and 
 may the Incarnate Immanuel, whose advent into this lower 
 world we at this season commemorate, take up His resi- 
 dence within your heart, and sanctify you tlnoughout 
 body, soul, and spirit ! This is the will of God concerning 
 you, and faithful is He that hath called you, who also Avill 
 do it ; — be strong in the faith of our Lord Jesus Christ, 
 hold fast that which you have attained, and press on ; that 
 when you fail on earth, you may be received into ever- 
 lasting habitations ! Jlmen and Amen. 
 
 " If you see Captain Mason, remember me affectionately 
 to liim ; he was every thing to me that I could wish, a 
 father, a nurse, a servant ; and with all the trouble I gave 
 him through my weakness of body, he never seemed 
 weary of serving me, to the utmost of his power. May 
 God reward him a hundred fold ! Farewell. 
 
 " Your affectionate friend and servant, 
 «J. SLTMMERFIELD." 
 
HEV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 289 
 
 In a letter to his father under the same date as the 
 preceding, Mr. Summerfield wrote as follows — and the in- 
 telligence was melancholy indeed, with reference to a gen- 
 tleman who had shown him no small kindness in the 
 l uited States: — " When I reflect upon the loss of many 
 of my Mends and acquaintance in the past year, who pro- 
 mised a long — long term of years — I am lost to know 
 why I linger here below. This morning I have received 
 the intelligence of the sudden death of Mr. Foxall ; he 
 w fully calculating on returning to America with me 
 and brother Reece ; a few weeks ago, I parted with him, 
 full of health, — and now he is no more ! ' Be ye also 
 ready,' is sounding in my ears ever since." 
 
 On the 10th of February, 1824, he wrote to his old 
 1 lass-leader, the Rev. Patrick French, then a Wesleyan 
 Missionary on the island of Antigua, in the West Indies. 
 
 " Runcorn, near Liverpool, February \^th, 1824. 
 " My ever beloved father and friend, whom I unceas- 
 ingly love in the truth ! 
 
 " What shall I say unto you ? — not that the difficulty 
 irises in the want of matter, but in the selection from that 
 Abundance of it which now presses upon my mind, the 
 noment I undertake to write to you. * * * * 
 
 " Although I have been in England ever since the 
 uonth of May last, I have not been able to visit Ireland ; 
 2 b 37 
 
290 
 
 MEMOIRS OP THE 
 
 — I thought I perceived an unwiUingness on the part of the 
 Irish preachers ; — indeed I scarcely think they have from 
 their hearts forgiven me for leaving them : but the autho- 
 rity of a parent — and that a pious one, compelled the 
 change, — and I am now satisfied that the good hand of 
 my God was with me. He has prospered me in America, 
 above all that I could have asked or thought ; but T dare 
 not trust my own heart to enter into particulars, — ' the 
 day shall declare it.' In reference, however, to my much 
 loved Ireland, I am now quite reUeved by two letters I 
 have received within the last week, from my best friend 
 in all that country — my dear William Stewart; I only 
 regret that I cannot now accept his invitation to come and 
 receive at the mouths of many, the welcome of their 
 ' inside hearts,' — as he calls it. But alas ! with all this, 
 there is mingled the inteUigence that brother Steele is gone 
 to his reward ! O that we may ever stand with our loins 
 girded up, ready to follow the bridegroom whenever He 
 appeareth ! 
 
 " I am, as ever, 
 
 " your's in the best of bonds, 
 «J. SUMMERFIELD.' 
 
 His friend Mr. Badley having removed from Weston Hill 
 to Linacre, to avoid the winter's blast, to which the former 
 situation was exposed, Mr. Summerficld accompanied him 
 to this new residence, and, says he, (January 29th, 1824.) 
 " a more delightful spot I could not have chosen." " Since 
 my last," he observes, " I remain much as usual ; indeed, 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 291 
 
 1 am like a ' creaking gate,' whose liinges are half con- 
 sumed, but yet hangs on." From this retreat, he wrote 
 again to Mr. Blackstocjt, " I4th of February, 1824 — Va- 
 lentine's day." Tliis letter, in which he " mourns over 
 the unmethodistical conduct" of some of the members of 
 the American Society, was the last he wrote from 
 England. 
 
292 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 SECTION XVI. 
 
 Retvryis to Afnerica — attends the Baltimore Conference — 
 ordained an Elder — appointed a Missionary within 
 the bounds of Baltimore Conference — extracts from 
 diary — missio?i to the Wyandott Indians — at Balti- 
 more in extreme debility. 
 
 Mr. Summerfield had now been fifteen months absent 
 from America, and although the latter moiety of that period 
 had been spent in England, the land of his nativity, and 
 amidst generous friends and Christian brethren, who 
 evinced towards him the greatest respect, he felt neverthe- 
 less that he was from home. His bowels yearned towards 
 his father, his brothers, and sisters, whom in recollection, 
 as well as in imagination, he saw assembled about the do- 
 mestic hearth, the happiness of which he knew suffered 
 some diminution on account of his absence ; and where, 
 as an invalid, he could not but fancy he might find that 
 repose which appeared still to be so necessary for the re- 
 establishment of his shattered health. But above all, he 
 sighed to be again engaged in that blessed work of calling 
 sinners to repentance, to which his whole soul was so en- 
 tirely given up. 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 293 
 
 His return to America iiad, as before intimated, been ex- 
 pected by a packet vessel which sailed in February ; and 
 how cordial a welcome awaited liim from one who is now 
 a Bishop of that church of which he was a minister, will 
 be seen from the following extract of a letter written by 
 the Rev. Joshua Soule, from Baltimore, March 25th, and 
 addressed to Mr. Summerfield, at New- York: — " I re- 
 ceived information through the Commercial Advertiser, of 
 the arrival of the packet, and the names of the passengers, 
 the morning previous to the receipt of your letter, and I 
 shall not attempt to describe my feeUngs, when I read the 
 names of Messrs. Reece and Hannah, and foimd not 
 yours — but my painlul appreheiisions were but for a day ; 
 and I assure you when I ascertained that the cause of your 
 delay was not sickness, or any peculiarly adverse provi- 
 dence, I rejoiced with thanksgiving. — Welcome ! thrice 
 welcome, my dear Jolm, to the shore of my native, and 
 your adopted home !" 
 
 On the 16th of March, 1824, he bade farewell, alas ! a 
 final farewell, to England, and embarked on board the 
 Orbit, Captain Tinkham, and on the 19th of April, ar- 
 rived in New- York — " contrary to all my expectations, with 
 a sUght degree of improved health." Three days after his 
 arrival, he attended the Anniversary of the Missionary 
 Society ; and on the Sunday following, he preached at 
 Brooklyn, New- York, to an overflowing congregation. 
 
 On the 1st of May, he proceeded to the General Con- 
 2 B 2 
 
294 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 ference held in Baltimore, halting by the way to preach at 
 Philadelphia. His emotions may be better conceived than 
 described, on being thus permitted once more to hold forth 
 the word of God in the city, where, two years before, his 
 Ufe had been despaired of. Great as had been his former 
 popularity, he still found the Philadelphians his " unchange' 
 able friends ;" — his reception was equal to his expectations. 
 
 He attended the sittings of this Conference, and on the 
 19th of May he was ordained Elder. The Rev. Richard 
 Reece, from England, preached the preparatory sermon, 
 and Bishop M'Kendree presided ; Bishops George and 
 Roberts were also present. " I was presented," says he, 
 •' by my valued friend and brother — now my Bishop — 
 Soule, and he, with Mr. E. Cooper, F. Garrettson, Josiah 
 Wells, assisted in the laying on of hands. To describe m) 
 feeUngs is impossible — it was a day never to be forgotten ! 
 I renewed my vows unto the Lord, in the presence of the 
 most august assembly I ever expect to meet on this side of 
 heaven !" 
 
 The following is the Certificate of ordination : — 
 " Know all Men by these Presents, that I, WiUiam 
 M'Kendree, one of the Bishops of the Methodist Episcopal 
 Church in America, under the protection of Almighty God, 
 and with a single eye to his glory, by the imposition of my 
 hands and prayer, (being assisted by the Elders present,) 
 have this day set apart John Summerpield for the oflice 
 of an Elder in the said Methodist Episcopal Church, a man 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 295 
 
 whom I judge to be well qualified for that work ; and I do 
 hereby recommend him to all whom it may concern, as a 
 proper person to administer the sacraments and ordinances, 
 and to feed the flock of Christ, so long as his spirit and 
 practice are such as become the Gospel of Christ. 
 
 " In testimony whereof, I have hereunto set my hand and 
 seal, this 19th day of May, in the year of our Lord one 
 thousand eight hundred and twenty-four. 
 
 " Wm. M'Kendree. {Seal.) 
 
 " Conference Room, Baltimore." 
 
 In consequence of the precarious state of his health, and 
 the advice of physicians, he was appointed by this Confe- 
 rence a Missionary within its hmits for the ensuing year. 
 The following letter, signed by the presiding Bishop, will 
 most clearly illustrate the scope of the instructions of his 
 Christian fathers and brethren. The recommendation 
 with regard to Sunday Schools is honourable to the as- 
 sembly from whence it emanated. An attention to the 
 " spiritual and eternal interests of the rising generation," is 
 an object worthy of Episcopal commendation ; and happily 
 we have Uved to see the day, when the dignitaries of Ame- 
 rica, Methodist and otherwise, are not alone in their atten 
 tion to this important duty of the Church of Christ. 
 
 " Baltimore, May, 1824. 
 
 " Dear Brother — 
 
 " I herewith acquaint you with the determination 
 wliich has been made on the subject of your appointment 
 
296 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 for the ensuing year, in the ftdfilment of which you are 
 to hold yourself amenable to the Baltimore Conference. 
 You have been nominated a * Missionary within the 
 bounds of this Conference,' similar to the arrangement 
 made in your case last year, but which your absence from 
 the country prevented from going into operation. Con- 
 formable with this arrangement, it will be your duty to 
 visit as many of the principal places within the bounds of 
 the Baltimore Conference, as may be practicable, having 
 a special reference in all your journeyings to the promotion 
 of the interests of our Missionary cause : this may be ac- 
 comphshed by forming auxiliary branch societies, holding 
 anniversary meetings, and raising collections at all conve- 
 nient opportunities: in short, by every means exciting 
 among our people a missionary spirit, worthy of the wide 
 and greatly extending work among us. Closely connected 
 with this, are our sabbath school institutions ; and I ear- 
 nestly desire that you will do all in your power to promote 
 the spiritual and eternal interests of the rising generation. 
 But superior to all these, I trust you will ever keep in view 
 in all your ministrations, the great design which we beUeve 
 that God intended to accomplish in the world, in making 
 us ' a people that were not a people,' — I mean the know- 
 ledge not only of in free, and a present, but also a full sal- 
 vation : in other words, a salvation from all sin, unto all 
 holiness ! 
 
 " Insist much on this, build up the churches herein, and 
 proclaim aloud that ' without hohness no man shall see the 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 297 
 
 Lord under the guidance of the Spirit of holiness, this 
 doctrine will be acknowledged of God : ' signs will follow 
 them that beheve,' and press after this uttermost salvation, 
 and our people will bear the mark of their high calling, — 
 becoming ' a holy nation, a peculiar people.' Never forget 
 that no doctrine which we have ever preached, has been 
 more owned by the Head of the Church, and I doubt not, 
 but the success of your Mission may mainly depend on 
 your zealously holding forth this great salvation. 
 
 " But although the arrangement within will confine you 
 officially to the Baltim.ore Conference, to attend to which 
 will be your first concern, yet from conversations I have 
 had with Dr. Baker, Dr. Wilkins, and other friendly 
 physicians, I deem it adviseable that you should be allowed 
 the privilege of extending your range of travel according 
 to the seasons of the year, in order that your health may 
 become permanently re-estabhshed. 
 
 " I therefore permit you to visit any part to the north of 
 this Conference in the summer season, and to the south 
 in the winter season, as may be recommended to you by 
 your physicians : at the same tune urging upon you to have 
 special regard to all the preceding objects of your mission, 
 in every place whither you may go : sincerely praying that 
 (he Head of the Church may acknowledge your labours, 
 not in word only, but in deed and in truth. 
 
 " Your's, affectionately, 
 
 W. M'KENDREE." 
 
 38 
 
298 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 May 29th, Mr. Summerfield returned to New- York, 
 " exhausted in body, depressed in mind, but confiding in 
 the God of Providence and Grace." And in a letter to 
 Dr. Baker, he remarks, " we had a tedious journey of it, 
 and although I rested at home the whole of yesterday, I 
 stiU feel the effects ; my sister was still more jaded, and 
 prefers staying on the island to accompanying me into the 
 city ; however, ' after the fatigue is over, as to its effects, 
 I hope we shall both show that the kindness of our friends 
 in Baltimore has produced ' marrow in our bones.' For 
 my own part, my friends here speak very flatteringly of 
 the change in my appearance ; I hope it may be perma- 
 nent, and that my future stay among you may tend to the 
 prosperity of my body and my soul." 
 
 He preached in Brooklyn at the dedication of a new 
 Methodist church, on the 6th of June : the Rev. J. Han- 
 nah from England preached on the same occasion. And 
 on the following Sunday, he occupied the pulpit in John- 
 street Church, New- York ; in connexion with this service, 
 he remarks, — " I never remember so gracious a time 
 under my feeble ministry !" 
 
 After corresponding with Dr. Baker on the propriety or 
 impropriety of his visiting the city of Baltimore in the 
 middle of summer, he resolved, in accordance with profes- 
 sional advice, and in the company of a gentleman from 
 New- York, to make a Missionary excursion northward. 
 He Avas at this time so feeble, that he dreaded to under- 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERPIELD. 299 
 
 take the journey, and yet, says he, " I was fit for nothing 
 else." He took the steamboat to Albany, at which place 
 he joined his companion, in whose carriage they proceeded 
 through New- York state, into Vermont, and to Middlebury, 
 where they arrived on the 31st. 
 
 To those who knew, and loved as he deserved, the sub- 
 ject of these memoirs, it cannot be uninteresting to trace 
 liis progress through the brief rerrmant of his ministerial 
 career. The very names of the places which he visited 
 w ill form memorials, interesting to the recollections of 
 many who will delight to recall, with the pious memory of 
 the preacher, the scenes and circumstances which distin- 
 guished his ministrations. To avoid tautology, and at 
 the same time to identify Mr. Summerfield himself as 
 much as possible with the progress of his mission, it will 
 be best generally to quote from a very laconic diary, which 
 he kept after his return to America, such entries as may 
 appear interesting. 
 
 " August \st, 1824. I preached in Middlebury on Sab- 
 bath morning, — and was so exhausted in consequence, 
 that the remainder of the day was indeed a burden to me ; 
 but the Lord blessed my soul ! 
 
 " 4th. I preached in the Presbyterian chmch, taking up 
 a Missionary collection for our Indian Missions, amounting 
 to twenty dollars — a great thing for Middlebury. 
 
300 
 
 MEMOIRS OP THE 
 
 " 8th. Sunday. I preached again in our church ; and 
 never did I experience so great an increase of health and 
 vigour, as in the past week. My health seems renewed 
 like the eagle's ! 
 
 " 10th. I preached in BurUngton, in the court house, 
 to a polite audience : and spent an agreeable afternoon, 
 at the house of the Governor :" — he was a brother of Judge 
 Van Ness, of New- York. 
 
 " 11th. I proceeded as far as Montreal in Canada ; even 
 here I found many friends. 
 
 " 12th. I addressed the anniversary assembly of the 
 Montreal Bible Society. 
 
 " 15th. I preached this morning in the Methodist 
 chapel ; our Society here, is supplied by missionaries from 
 the British Conference. 
 
 " 16th. I visited the Indian settlement of Cochnawaga — 
 a Catholic priest resides among them. 
 
 " 18th. I preached again in Montreal in behalf of the 
 Lancasterian Free School, and collected one hundred and 
 ten dollars. 
 
 " 20th. I preached in the Socinian church, (Burlington.) 
 at their earnest request. I bless God that I had courage 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 301 
 
 sufficient not to prevent me from keeping back any part of 
 the counsel of God- They were oflended, and refused lo 
 come to hear me again. 
 
 • 22d, Sunday. I preached in the Presbyterian churcli, 
 and raised a collection of thuty-fom- dollars in aid of our 
 Missions. 
 
 •• 23d. Departed from Middlebury, and arrived safely at 
 Pleasant Valley, in New- York state, on Friday following", 
 where I preached the same evening, to such a congrega- 
 tion as we could raise. 
 
 " 29th. I preachetl at Poughkeepsie tioice. This is the 
 first venture of the kind I have made since my hemorrhage 
 in 1822. I found myself so far improved by this my 
 journey, that I was less fatigued than I had been b}- 
 preaching once on the first Sabbath at IMiddlebury. In the 
 afternoon, I accepted the offer of the Reformed Dutch 
 Church — being the most spacious in the town. Next day 
 I took my departure for New- York, where I arrived safely 
 on Tuesday, the 31st inst. after an absence of five weeks. 
 My health is now better than it has been for some year.s^ 
 so that I am persuaded this journey was of God." 
 
 [To Dr. Samuel Baker.] 
 
 "New-York, 6th September, 1S24. 
 " My Dear Doctor — 
 
 " In labouring more abundantly than I have 
 
 2c 
 
302 
 
 MEMOIRS OP THE 
 
 done at any period since my affliction in Philadelphia, I 
 have been supported by the great Physician of body and 
 soul, and whilcstrengthened in the inner man, I have found 
 also that the tabernacle has undergone considerable repaii', 
 and that my health is much improved ; how long this 
 mercy may be continued to me, I know not ; I wish to 
 improve it to its full extent, and work while it is called to- 
 day. I feel that I hold Ufe by a very feeble tenure, and I 
 wish therefore ever to be found in the spirit of sacrifice. 
 
 ' I rejoice to learn that your tour has been no less bene- 
 ficial than my own, particularly in reference to her on whose 
 behalf it was mainly undertaken ; — may she be long con- 
 tinued to you, to be blest and to be a blessing. I now look 
 forward to my return among you with less painful fore- 
 Ijodings — the gloom which hung around the horizon of 
 Baltimore, whenever I turned my eye in that direction, is 
 now considerably dissipated, and I anticipate a brighter 
 scene, if God permit. 
 
 " On TImrsday next, the 15th inst., I leave this city for 
 Philadelphia, so you see I am now inclining my steps 
 towards your little Bethany, where I hope ere long to 
 mingle with ' Martha and her sister, and Lazarus,' and oh, 
 that your household may have as distinguished a character 
 
 as that of Martha, ' and the family whom Jesus loved.' 
 
 " Believe me, my dear Doctor, 
 
 " Ever yours, in truest affection, 
 
 " J. SUMMERFIELD." 
 
REV, JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 303 
 
 On Saturday the 18th, he arrived in Philadelphia, and 
 on the following day preached to an immense multitude. 
 Ten days afterward, the Missionary board of the Philadel- 
 phia Conference appointed him to travel within the states 
 of Pennsylvania and New- Jersey, for one month, to form 
 auxiliary societies, and to take up collections in aid of this 
 institution. In a letter to Dr. Baker, he says — " My health 
 remains good — good for me; I still labour a little for Him 
 whom my soul loveth, and for whom I would gladly spend 
 and be spent. I have indeed been considerably disap- 
 pointed by my long separation from you, to which nothing 
 would have reconciled me, but a belief that I was not out 
 of the line of duty. I think I can positively state the 
 time, please God, when I shall ')'• w ith you — but then it is 
 a period so distant that I am afraid ' hope so long deferred 
 will make the heart sick.' — And yet, what is a month — a 
 little month? Agreeably with Bishop M'Kendree's re- 
 quest, I have made my arrangements to devote a month to 
 travel within the bounds of this conference, for Missionary 
 purposes. To-morrow I depart, in company with m} 
 dear Thomas (Rev. T. Sargeant.) I have made my calcu- 
 lations, and determined to leave here on Monday, the 
 fnst of November, arriving in Baltimore the following 
 morning." 
 
 He accordingly preached, with reference to making col- 
 lections, and forming auxiUary Missionary Societies, at 
 Westchester, Springfield, Churchtown, New Holland, 
 Strasburg, Lancaster, Columbia, Harrisburg, Marietta. 
 
304 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 Reading, Joanna, and on the 15th of October, he returned 
 to Philadelpliia. After visiting New- York, where he re- 
 mained till the 27th, he again set out on his mission. 
 
 November 1, 1824. Met the Committee of the Mis- 
 sionary Board of the Philadelphia Conference, and delivered 
 my Report. The whole amount collected was three hun- 
 dred and fifty-eight dollars, and six auxiliary societies es- 
 tablished. They apportioned me one hundred and eighty- 
 live dollars, of which I gave Thomas fifty dollars ; travel- 
 hng expenses were thirty dollars, so that it left me one 
 hundied and five dollars clear. This is the first church 
 property I had received for Hoo years, and I disbursed it all 
 upon my dear father in his affliction. 
 
 "2d. Proceeded to Baltimore. 4th. Preached in Light- 
 street, for the first time since my return. I am now com- 
 fortably settled here ; nothing can exceed the kindness of 
 Dr. Baker and his family I Their love to me is wonderful ! 
 My God, do thou remember them ! 
 
 '• 1st December. Preached to thechildren in Light-street. 
 9th. Preached again to the clvildren, and collected from 
 them eighty dollars, to remit to my dear Brother Finlay, 
 who writes to me most plaintively to raise him fifty dollars. 
 The gold and the silver is God's." The autograph ac- 
 Icnowledgement of this devoted apostle, who was then 
 labouring among the Wyandott Indians, hes before me. If 
 
 written from Upper Sandusky ; and I will not WTong 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. oUu 
 
 the character of the living, nor the memory of the dead, by 
 leaving where I find it the following extract, the interest of 
 which will not be diminished by its simpUcity :— ' Dear 
 brother, above all, I want your prayers, and the prayers of 
 aU the good people of your city. Sometunes I feel lone 
 some, and yet I am not alone if I have but the prayers of 
 the saints, and the comforts of God's Holy Spirit. I often, 
 when lying in the woods, on a piece of bark, taken from 
 some lofty oak of the forest, think how many of God's 
 people are now praying for me, and sometimes I am so 
 overvvhehiied with a sense of the goodness of my most 
 precious Jesus, that I cannot contain myself. Glory be 
 to God ! I feel a sacred flame this moment burning with 
 gratitude to him who never sleeps. Nor does He despise 
 the day of small things. Oh, that I was more holy, that 
 I might be more useful to my fellow mortals, and be able 
 to spread my Saviour's name through all the tribes of the 
 forest. Your son* John is a fine boy, learns well, and 
 promises to make a smart, and I hope, a most useful man. 
 As he is not in need, I do not think it necessary at the 
 present time for you to send him any thing. If you had 
 an opportunity to send some small present, to let him know 
 
 * An Indian boy, named John Summerfield, at the request of 
 the Juvenile Missionary Society at Baltimore. A certain sum, I 
 believe one hundred dollars, entitles them to the privilege of 
 naming a Boy or Girl. At the anniversary alluded to they 
 named John Wesley, R. Ifliatcoat, F, Asbury, Mary Fletcher. 
 W. M'Kendree, and John Summer jicld. 
 
 30 
 
306 
 
 MEMOIRS OP THE 
 
 that you had not forgot him, and some advice, which is a 
 great thing amongst our children from their friends, it 
 would be of benefit to him, and let him know that you 
 heard that he is a good boy ; and that as he has become your 
 son, you wish him to continue to be so, and to learn his book. 
 &c. Give my love to all my juveniles in Baltimore that 
 you see, and tell them that their children are doing well ; 
 to all my acquaintances, and to ail that love the Lord Jesus 
 in sincerity. I am, with every sentiment of esteem, your 
 suffering brother in the bonds of the gospel of our Lord 
 Jesus Christ, 
 
 "JAMES B. FINLAY." 
 
 The following entry in Mr. Summerfield's diary will 
 show that the imposition of his name was not confined to 
 the Wyandott boy above mentioned : — " December 16th, 
 1824. Went to open the ' Summerfield Chapel,' at Elk- 
 ridge landing, accompanied by Mr. Nevins, and other 
 friends. The Lord was graciously with me, and suffered 
 not his word to fall to the ground." 
 
 Wliile at Baltimore, in the month of December, he sub- 
 mitted to a course of sahvation ; that this would be bene- 
 ficial, was alike the opinion of Dr. Baker, with whom he 
 now dwelt, and of the physician with whom he resided 
 some time while in Liverpool. Of the favourable result 
 of this severe experiment, his friends as well as himself 
 were very sanguine. Writing to Mr. Blackstock, he says : 
 — " It is expected that in the spring I sha\\ fatten up after 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 307 
 
 it, and visit you with a renewed constitution. My mouth 
 is very sore with the mercury, which I rub on my right 
 side every night, and yet I am well able to preach, al- 
 though I moderate myself to once a week, viz. on Sun- 
 day morning, and occasionally exercise at public anniver- 
 saries on the week daj^s, Bible Societies, Bethel Unions, 
 Simday and Free Schools, Missionary Societies, &c. all 
 appealing to fall due just at this time. — You need not, 
 however, be uneasy ; I am in kind hands under Dr. Baker, 
 and he will not suffer me, even were I inclined., (which I 
 assure you I am not,) to do any more than is quite con- 
 sistent with my circumstances. I stay in always in the 
 evenings, and have determined not to go to any tea parties, 
 except to weddings, for I have begun to marry others, 
 though I have no prospect of such a change for myself, so 
 that I am sme you will commend my prudence."' 
 
 Weak as he was, he still continued -fo preach : after 
 ser\-ice in Light-street on Sunday morning, although he 
 found his Master's promise. Lo, I am with you always !" 
 graciously fulfilled ; yet he remarks — " My physical 
 powers are very weak, and I have seldom been more ex- 
 hausted than at the close of this exercise — had to retire 
 to bed. O how should I value a sound constitution, were 
 it the a\t11 of God ! But it appears to me, I am appointed 
 to halt upon my thigh all the days of my life. Well ! 
 these light afflictions are not worthy to be compared wiih 
 the glory which is to be revealed ! ' How meekly resigned 
 
308 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 to the will of God ! Content to '• halt upon his thigh, ' 
 after long wrestling with the angel, and havmg obtained 
 from Him the blessing which in Ireland he so often and 
 bitterly agonized to find. The day following, he wnites : 
 — " My afiliction is so increased, that a consultation of 
 physicians was held to-day. I am interdicted all public 
 labours ! I am the subject of constant fever, ' Lord, thy 
 will be done 
 
 On Christmas day, notwithstanding his general debility, 
 and that his mouth, from the recent effects of the mercury, 
 was almost too sore to allow him to speak, the absence of 
 Mr. Nevins left it almost imperative upon him to take an 
 appointment. " I have resolved, therefore, (says he) to hold 
 out to the end of the year, and then rest: if not, I shall 
 soon be carried to my rest in the grave — I preached this 
 morning, (December 25th,) to the coloured people in 
 Sharpe-street, and the word came w4th great power — we 
 indeed realized the hymn w^e had been singing : 
 
 ' O would'st thou again be made known. 
 
 Again in thy spirit descend ! 
 
 And set up in each of thine own, 
 
 A kingdom that never shall end ! 
 
 Thou only art able to bless, 
 
 And make the glad nation? obey ; 
 
 And bid the dire enmity cease, 
 
 And bow the wliolc world to thy sway 1' 
 
UEV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 309 
 
 The poor Africans appeared to be let into heavenly places ; 
 every heart was full ! 
 
 " Sunday, 26th. Heard Mr. Bascum in the morning, and 
 preached myself in the afternoon, at Mr. Nevins', from 
 1 Cor. xvi. 22. My strength now seemed entirely gone ! 
 
 " Monday, 27th, with a view of fulfilling my final en- 
 gagement for this year-, imwell as I was, I submitted to be 
 carried to Mr. Heiishaw's church, to address the anniver- 
 sary meeting of the Yomig Men's Bible Society. During 
 the meeting I sat in great pain, and as soon as I had done, 
 was obliged to be carried home. For the remainder of the 
 week, I was confined to the house, and lost the enjoyment 
 of all the sanctuary services with wliich the old year 
 usually closes among us." 
 
310 
 
 MEMOIRS OF TH£ 
 
 SECTiox xvn. 
 
 Extracts from Diary — letters — returns to New- Y&rk — 
 last illness-<-death-bed expressions — dies in the Lord — 
 public sympathy— funeral — monumental inscriptions. 
 
 " Towards the close of any book of biography, in 
 which we have been peculiarly interested, there is some- 
 thing of apprehension experienced, as we approach the 
 last pages ; we know the catastrophe which consummates 
 every work of the kind, because the same is the consum- 
 mation of every human Ufe. Whose heart has not palpi- 
 tated ? whose hand has not trembled as if it felt a feebler 
 pulse at turning over leaf after leaf? and whose eye has not 
 keenly, eagerly, yet afraid and revoltingly, glanced on to 
 the very line in which the last agony is described, as 
 though it saw the dying look of one, who had been ' very 
 pleasant in hfe,' and from whom, even ' in the volume of 
 the book,' it was hard to be divided ? Yea, and we read, 
 with prophetic anticipation, the record of the last moments 
 of our endeared companion, as one warning more of our 
 own being so much the nearer than when we first became 
 acquainted, though it were but a few days ago."* The 
 
 * Montgomery's Introduction to Memoirs of Mrs. Susan 
 Huntington, of Boston. 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERPIELD, 311 
 
 foregoing passage, so characteristic of the authority whence 
 it emanated, is not more striking than true ; and no reader 
 having the common sensibihties of our nature — especially 
 if those sensibihties are refined and exalted by reUgion, 
 pure and undefiled — can have proceeded to this point in 
 the affecting narrative of Mr. Summerfield's earthly course, 
 without feehng something of the touching presentiment 
 above referred to. 
 
 We perceive with certainty how soon some fondly in- 
 dulged hopes will be disappointed, and how shortly and 
 surely some forebodings will be realized. This species of 
 knowledge seems almost to annihilate the scope and mdul- 
 gence of anticipations, that owe their existence to that un- 
 certainty with which the good providence of God has so 
 mercifully overhung the exigencies and duration of every 
 human life. As the final period advances, the incidents of 
 many past years appear to crowd their recollections into 
 the brief remnant of weeks or days that are behind ; and 
 in the records of the hfe of a good man, the memorials 
 become increasingly precious to the heart, as they diminish 
 in bulk to the eye — not so much from any difference in 
 their nature, as peculiarity of situation. They are, as it 
 Avere, the key-stones of that arch of existence, whose span 
 extends from time into eternity, either segment of which — 
 the dimly receding past, or the invisible future — appear 
 alike to owe their connexion, if not their stability, to 
 that which forms the point of contact. 
 
312 
 
 MEMOIRS OP THE 
 
 Under the date of February 11th, 1825, Mr. Summer- 
 field, weak as he was, and yet residing at Baltimore, re- 
 commenced his diary. " I am," says he, in the introduc- 
 tory paragraph, " truly a mystery to myself! The old 
 year has rolled away, and the new year is fast following 
 it, and no record of the dealings of God with my soul ! O 
 tell me why — 
 
 ' Wliy, my cold heart, art thou not lost 
 In wonder, love, and praise !' 
 
 The temptation of postponing all attention to my diary to 
 a more convenient season, still haunts me, and by yielding 
 thereto, I am continually brought into darkness. My af- 
 fliction of body is urged as a reason ; and indeed since the 
 year commenced, I have been greatly afflicted : but then I 
 may never be otherwise, and thus while vowing for to-mor- 
 row, to-night I die ! Painful, then, as it is to flesh and 
 blood, I am resolved again — yes, again, often as I have 
 done it before, — that, God being my helper, 
 
 ' I'll praise Him while he lends me breath !' 
 
 and henceforward record from time to time, more faithfully, 
 what he hath done for my seul. 
 
 My mind has been for some time in great darkness ! 
 I seem to have gone clean out of the way ; I have no Ught. 
 The new year opened propitiously to meyny, but ah me ! 
 
REV. JOHN SVMMERFIELD. 
 
 313 
 
 that day was as the former." Here is distress and fear 
 again. The dark lantern of the body often obscures the 
 light of the soul clear sliining wathin, so that it is hidden 
 even from him who possesses it — yet, yet, it will, it will 
 break out at lucid intervals, and cast its bright beams, not 
 on himself alone and his path, but upon all things and 
 persons around him. 
 
 And accordingly, in the very next entry, when speaking 
 of preaching in Light-Street Church, from 1 Jolm i. 9. he 
 says — " Never do I remember to have been more greatly 
 blessed myself, or made a more general blessing to others ; 
 for a short season, even all that day, I was in the suburbs 
 of tlie heavenly city — O that I could have remained there 
 without ever descending !" 
 
 January 31st. This is my birth-day. Time strikes a 
 solemn knell this day to me ; — it may mean, ' this year thou 
 shall die .'' I am truly surprised that I am so Uttle aUve to 
 this interesting season ; my birth-day was always an un- 
 conomon event in my estimation, and my feelings were pe- 
 cuhar — but oh, how my spirit groans beneath a cumbering 
 load of weakness and affliction, and how little are my spiritual 
 enjoyments ! O Lord ! revive thy work ! 
 
 "February 6th. Sunday. I preached in Eutaw-street 
 Church, on 'What shall I render to the Lord,' &c. After- 
 wards the communion was administered to a multitude 
 beyond any number I ever saw in that solemn ordinance ; 
 2d 40 
 
314 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 the serving of the tables occupied an hour and a half— but 
 O, the Master was there ! and the spiiit was willing and 
 enabled to endure the fatigue. 
 
 " February 11th. This day I have been greatly blessed 
 in reading Wesley's Sermons on the Wilderness iState, and 
 Heaviness through Manifold Temptations. My clouds 
 are beginning to break away ; I have determined to live 
 nearer to God than ever, that hke Him I may know no dark- 
 ness at all ! Lord, lift thou upon me the light of thy coun- 
 tenance. 
 
 " February 13th. Sunday. Preached this morning in 
 Caroline-street Church, on Isaiah 1. 10, I believe it was 
 made a general blessing. This evening I had a most pro- 
 fitable fire-side conversation with the kind family with whom 
 I reside ; their love to me is wonderful ! Lord, remember 
 them for good ! 
 
 " February 14th. Received the inteUigence of the decease 
 of Brother Ross (of New- York) on Thursday evening last ; 
 he was interred yesterday afternoon. Father of the father- 
 less ! remember liis orphans, and his poor affhcted widow ! 
 One of the Ughts of our Church, and one of the hopes 
 of our Israel, is extinguished in this event. He was a burn- 
 ing and a shining lamp ! — And I am yet aUve ! 
 
 "Yesterday afternoon I heard a profitable discourse fiom 
 brother Wells, on ' Consider one another to provoke to love,' 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 315 
 
 &,c. His remarks on the words ' consider one another,' I 
 hope never to forget. Consider the age, — the constitutional 
 temper, — the educational unpressions, <fcc. <fec. O if we 
 considered one another more, how it would lead us tenderly 
 to cmition, advise, reprove one another in love ! and how 
 httle of evil speaking would there be, were these solemn 
 words always impressed on us — ' with what measure yo 
 mete^ if'c. — God will fulfil this to us ; 'tis awful !" 
 
 This was the final entry ; the last string of the breaking 
 heart seems here to have sounded ; and it is remarkable 
 that this is a caution against " evil speaking," of which he 
 had tasted often the wormwood and the gall, even among 
 rehgious people. 
 
 [To Mrs. Bethmie, of New- York ; wiitten a few months 
 after the death of her husband.] 
 
 " Baltimore, January \^th, 1825. 
 " My dear Mrs. Bethune, 
 
 " Must not suppose for one moment, that my silence 
 for so long a time has aiisen firom any abatement in ray 
 affections, or forgetfulness of her claims upon me. I 
 thank God, tliat I have often had good remembrance of 
 you in my prayers night and day, and often have com- 
 mended you to Him who is the Judge of the widow. But 
 truly I have been a child of much affliction, and though 
 my spirit has been willing, the feeble state of my health 
 has retarded me ; not that the bare writing of a letter is in 
 
316 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 itself a task of so great magnitude under any circum- 
 stances — but the mind sympathizes so acutely with the 
 ' weaker vessel,' as to render it at times ahnost impossible 
 to surmount its sensibilities. Some time ago, I wrote to 
 Mr. H., and therein I made mention of you, with a desire 
 to know how you are ? and where you are ? Mr. H. did 
 kindly favour- me with a few lines in reply, merely to 
 acknowledge the receipt of my letter, with a promise to 
 mite at full length in a few days : those few days are 
 multiplied into many, and I have become the more anxious 
 on /tis account also to know what is transpiring among 
 you ; for ' God is my record, how greatly I long after you 
 all in the bowels of Jesus Christ !' A few days since I 
 dined in company with the Rev. Mr. M. a son of the 
 Doctor, and from him I was pleased to hear a favourable 
 account of your beloved son George, and that he manifests 
 much seriousness, and devotedness to the sacred character 
 to which he is preparing himself, for future life. O is 
 this the case ? I wish he would write to me. I keep up a 
 sweet correspondence with Princeton College — but strange 
 to say, I have no correspondent in the Theological Semi- 
 nary, although I sometimes think that there are several 
 youths there upon whom I have some claim to be remem- 
 bered.* 
 
 * Most gladly was this request complied with by Mr. G. B., 
 but alas ! the rapid decline of Mr. Summerfield's health did not 
 permit him to reply. 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 317 
 
 " I trust that the mellowing hand of time has in some de- 
 gree dried up the tears of your lonely widowhood. Whither 
 he is gone, ' you know, and the way you know ;' he shall 
 not return to you, but you shaU go to him : remember the 
 gulf is not between heaven and earth — but heaven and 
 hell ; and now that he is absent from the body, he is present 
 with the Lord ; that Lord whom he loved when he saw 
 him not, and whom he now sees face to face. 
 
 ' Where all the ship's company meet, 
 Who sailed with their captain beneath !' 
 
 And oh, my God, shall / be there ! — and shall you be 
 there ? yea, saith the Spirit ! yea, saith the Saviour, for 
 ' where I am there shall my servants be I' yea, saith the 
 Father, ' It is your Father's good pleasure to give you the 
 kingdom !' Let us comfort one another with these words, 
 and then ' to die is gain !' 
 
 " Farewell, my dear madam. Give my love to our 
 mutual friends ; and believe me sincerely and affection- 
 ately yours in christian love, 
 
 "JOHN SUMMERFIELD." 
 
 [To THE Rev. Joseph Tabor.] 
 
 " Baltimore, January I4th, 1825. 
 " My dear Friend, 
 " What an age is it since we last saw each other t 
 and which of us had the most distant idea when we 
 2 D 2 
 
318 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 separated [in Ireland] of our being so near together as the 
 space between Pittsburg and Baltimore! [Then occui- 
 many references to European aflfairs, in which they were 
 mutually interested.] 
 
 And now I think it is time I should say something 
 about yourself. I have learned with regret that success has 
 not attended your removal to this country according to 
 your expectation ; you know how opposed I was to it ; — 
 however, this is poor comfort ; nevertheless, I rejoice to 
 know that you have not fallen into the snare of too many 
 of our poor Irish brethren, whom I have met with in Ca- 
 nada, and elsewhere, who have in the same proportion as 
 they lost ground on earth, given up their hope of heaven, 
 and departed from the Uving God ! — I trust that your 
 mountain still stands strong, and that you yet ktiow that 
 you have in heaven a better and an enduring substance. 
 As for myself, with much weakness of the body, with 
 which I have had to contend, I am yet honoured with a 
 name among the living in Jerusalem ! — In this country my 
 labours have been indeed more abundant, and I have not 
 been permitted to labour alone ! having obtained help of 
 God, I continue unto this day. My soul is in my work, and 
 the zeal of the Lord's house is as a fire within iTiy bones ; — 
 the Lord has honoured me with many honours ; and at 
 the same time has taught me the art of hanging them all 
 as trophies on the Cross of Christ. My health is im- 
 proving, and I pray that my days may yet be lengthened 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERPIELD. 319 
 
 out, that I may bear witness of the great salvation to 
 cliildren yet unborn ! Farewell, my dear friend. 
 
 " Your's, in Christian affection, 
 J. SUMMERFIELD." 
 
 [Tlie following letter was written to the widow of the 
 late lamented George Warner, Esq. who died on the 1st 
 of Januarj', 1825, known and beloved by thousands in the 
 city and state of New- York, of whose legislature he was 
 for many years a member ; and who, for more than half a 
 century, was eminently distinguished for his zealous and 
 unceasing exertions in the cause of Cliiist.] 
 
 " Baltimore, February \5th, 1825. 
 My dear Mi-s. Warner must not suppose, that, because 
 I have not broken silence until now, I had no sympathy 
 with her under her late bereavement. Job's friends ' sat 
 by his side upon the ground seven days and seven nights, 
 and none spake a word unto him ; for they saw that his 
 jiief was very great.' But then surely there is a fit time 
 IV hen the ' minister of peace' should break the seal of his 
 commission, and fulfil its mandate, ' comfort ye, comfort ye 
 ny people, saith your God !' It would indeed be imperti- 
 lent in any other than the ' Prince of life,' who was about 
 0 give back to the disconsolate widow her greatest eai'thly 
 reasure, to say ' weep not ;' — oh no ! it is permitted to us 
 0 weep, and even to sorrow many days ; — but then ' let 
 13 not sorrow as do others ; for if we believe that Jesus 
 lied and rose again, even so also, them that sleep in Jesus 
 
320 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 shall God bring with him ;' ' he is not dead then, but sleep- 
 ethf and Jesus will yet awake him out of sleep. He has 
 long known that his Redeemer liveth, and that in the lat- 
 ter day, He should stand again upon the earth and see 
 Hun eye to eye, — Him whom he loved, though he saw 
 Him not, and in whom he long rejoiced with joy unspeaka- 
 ble and full of glory. 
 
 " Oh how I should have desired to have been with him, 
 when the shadows of time were flitting away, and the 
 glories of eternity bursting upon his open vision ! O how 
 I should have longed to have witnessed in him, with what 
 peace a christian can die ! T might have learned a lesson 
 which is now lost to me for ever. But yoti witnessed it : 
 nay, you were the witness of his life, which was a daily 
 lesson ; the last chapter of which might be summed up 
 in one line, ' I live, — yet not I, — ^but Christ liveth in me.' 
 He felt that for him to hve was Christ, — but now he finds 
 ' that to die, is gain.^ Happy soul ! thy days are ended. 
 He will not return to us, but we shall go to hun ; he has 
 gained the prize before us ; but then, although we have it 
 not as yet, ' there is laid up for us a crowTi of righteous- 
 ness, which the Lord will give at that day.' And though 
 we should long be kept out of the possession of it, rust 
 will not corrupt it ; it is a crown of glory that fadeth not 
 away ! Oh that you, and yours, may gain the blissful 
 shore as safely as he has done, without any shipwreck of 
 faith and of a good conscience ! and oh, my God ! remem- 
 her me ! When your feelings will permit, I should be glad 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 321 
 
 (o hear some particulars of the last moments of my much 
 beloved and never-to-be-forgotten friend. He was among 
 the first of my friendships in New-York, both as to my 
 early acqiiamtance with him, and the value I placed upon 
 his disinterested kindness to me ! — I am bereaved mdeed ; 
 one after another is summoned away, and I am left to heai 
 tales of woe. It sounds Uke a knell unto myself, ' be ye 
 also ready, for at such an hour as ye think not, the Son of 
 man cometh.^ Farewell, my dear friend, and may He 
 who knows how to comfort them that are in trouble, pouv 
 in the oil and the wine into your broken bleeding heart. 
 
 " Your's in the Lord, 
 
 «J. SUMMERFIELD." 
 
 In the month of March, 1825, Mr. Summerfield return- 
 ed from Baltimore to New-York, in consequence of the 
 alarming indisposition of his father ; on his arrival at the 
 latter city, he fully expected soon to be called upon to close 
 the eyes of his beloved parent, at whose bedside he re- 
 mained day after day, Uttle calculating upon the mournful 
 alternative, which in the order of providence was soon to 
 take place. 
 
 At this time, while he was residing with his family in 
 the country about four miles from New- York, a physician 
 who called to pay hun a friendly visit, observing his deUcate 
 state of health, and beUeving the situation was too cold 
 for him, ordered him to the town. He accordingly remo- 
 ved to the house of his kind friend Dr. Beekman, in the 
 41 
 
322 
 
 MEMOIRS OP THE 
 
 city, where he was confined to his room and bed about a 
 month, after which he go far recovered as to be able occa- 
 sionally to ride or walk out. During this short interval 
 of temporary convalescence, he was employed, with several 
 of his brethren in the ministry of diflferent denominations, 
 in the formation of The Amercan i r vct Society, of 
 whose comrnittee he was a member. His last pubbc act 
 was an address at the first meeting of this flourishing 
 Society,* about a month before his death. A few days 
 
 * The day after (Thursday) was the anniversary of the Ame- 
 rican Bible Society. Mr. Summerfield, with several distinguished 
 strangers and members of the Society, was invited to dine with his 
 esteemed and highly respected friend, the Rev. Doctor Milnor. 
 This invitation occasioned the Ibllowing note, in which there is a 
 peculiar interest, when we reflect that it was the last he ever 
 wrote ! On the Monday succeeding, he took to his bed. — /. B. 
 
 [To THE Rev. Doctor Milnor.] 
 
 " May mh, 1825. 
 
 " Rev. and Dear Sir, 
 " In the anticipated pleasure, which your invitation to din- 
 ner to day inspired, 'memory lost her seat ;' I forgot that my 
 diet is simply bread and milk, and that I had not tasted animal 
 food of any kind for some months. 
 
 "At your table I know I should see ' as it were a great sheet 
 let down at the four corners, containing' ' all that was plea- 
 sant for food — but then no accompanying voice would address 
 me, ' arise, Peter, kill and eat.' — Unwilling, therefore, to appear 
 singular, and fearing it might put you to inconvenience, I beg of 
 you to excuse me, till we can enjoy ' all things in common.' 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 323 
 
 tifter this, he went to pay his father, who had in some de- 
 gree recovered from his attack, a visit prior to his return 
 to Baltimore — and httle did he or his father think that this 
 would be the last time they should see each other in thejlesh ! 
 On this very day his physician was consulted with respect 
 to his intended journey ; he apprehended from appearan- 
 ces, that amidst a comphcation of complaints, his most for- 
 jTiidable disease was a dropsy ; this unexpected diagnosis 
 was fully confirmed, when next day he took to his bed — 
 never again to rise from it ! 
 
 During this last sickness, such was the violence of the 
 disease, and the consequent effect of the anodynes which 
 were necessarily administered, that he had but few lucid 
 intervals. Notwithstanding this, his ideas were at times 
 exceedingly sublime ; obscured as they frequently were 
 by the inability to express fully what he meant to convey. 
 The bent of his mind was very evident ; the leading 
 features of his remarks were, the glory of the church ! — 
 the prosperity of Zion .' — themes upon which he had dwelt 
 with delight, while in health. " The glory of the church ! 
 the glory of the church of New- York !" he exclaimed : 
 " her walls shall be salvation and her gates praise !"' He 
 
 " I could not make my way ii 
 or I would have spoken to you. 
 
 " With kind regard to Mrs. M- 
 ately, yours, 
 
 the City Hotel this morning, 
 -, believe me, very affection- 
 «J. SUMMERFIELD." 
 
 Thursday, 3 o^cIock.'" 
 
324 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 attempted to illustrate the union subsisting between Bible 
 and Missionary Societies, by the most chaste and beautiful 
 metaphors. One morning, while enduring great bodily 
 pain, he exclaimed, 
 
 " Cease, fond nature, cease thy strife, 
 Let me languish into life !" 
 
 Throughout this severe illness, his mind generally ap- 
 peared engaged about heavenly things : on a subsequent 
 morning, he drew the bed curtains aside, and said to a 
 friend who stood by — " Shew me the throne ! where is the 
 throne?" He would often speak on the fellowship of 
 saints ; and sometimes, he appeared engaged at a sacra- 
 mental feast. 
 
 In a conversation wliich took place about ten days after 
 he was laid sick, he remarked to his kind friend Mrs. 
 Doctor Beekman, that her " infirmity of body was not 
 less than his own ; but," continued he, " had you my 
 mental sufferings to contend with, in addition to your 
 weakness of body, — perhaps you would hardly bear it." 
 — He expressed a great desire to be raised again, if it were 
 the will of God—" affliction," said he, " is not joyous, — 
 but grievous; for example, even Christ himself prayed, 
 that if it be possible, ' let this cup pass from me " — After a 
 pause, he emphatically said, " JSTevertheless, not my will, but 
 thine be done .'" A deep sense of his unworthiness seemed 
 to oppress his mind : " having hved so long," he said, " and 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERPIELD. 325 
 
 to SO little pui-pose : oh !" he added, " if I might be raised 
 again — how I could preach ! I could preach as I never 
 preached before — / have taken a look into eternity /" Dur- 
 ing tliis conversation, the distressing hiccup, from which 
 he had had little or no relief for some days and nights, 
 was converted into a most affecting sob. On its being re- 
 marked to him that he suffered himself to be too much 
 cast down by this deep sense of his own unworthiness, — 
 as he expressed himself, — a friend spoke to him of the 
 numbers that had been blessed under his ministry, some 
 of whom were themselves preaching the gospel, and others 
 promising fair to commence the work in due time ; besides 
 many of whom we shall never hear. " Oh !" he replied, 
 " say nothing on that subject :" and then he sobbed out, 
 '• Well ! 1 have been a labourer for seven years :" he 
 paused for a few moments, and then with emphasis added, 
 '• bless God ! I have at least served an appi enticeship ;" 
 after a little time taken to recover himself, he contmued, 
 " I know not how it will end with me — in this sickness, 
 death is not so near to me, as I could wish it to be — were 
 this to be my last sickness :" raising his hand, he said, " I 
 vdsh to have eternity brought before me as near to my 
 view as that ; (looking at his hand ;) this not being the 
 case, I have thought it a presentiment that God will again 
 raise me : 'tis singular to remark," continued he, " that 
 the last time I sat down to prepare a sermon, my muad 
 w£is led to these words — ' Having a desire to depart, and to 
 be with Christ, which is far better ;' the sermon just filled 
 up the last volume of my sermons, and after closing the 
 2e 
 
326 
 
 MEMOrRS OF THE 
 
 book, I was led to make use of these words — ' my work 
 is doner — yet if it were God's will, I should like to 
 preach it !" 
 
 It is worthy of observation here, that during his severe 
 illness of 1822, when in Philadelphia, and when no hope 
 was entertained of his recovery, that this text of scripture 
 was much upon his mind — " Having a desire to depart, 
 and to be with Christ, which is far better — nevertheless, to 
 abide in the flesh is more needful for you." After dweUing 
 upon this for some time, the latter part of the text — 
 " Nevertheless to abide," &c. was so fixed on his mind, 
 that he said to a friend in a confident manner, " this sick- 
 ness is not unto death." The same friend being with him 
 a night during his last illness, while in conversation, Mr. 
 Summerfield said — " Thomas, do you remember I told 
 you in Philadelphia how much those words — ' Having a 
 desire to depart,^ Sec. were impressed upon my mind? 
 you recollect with what confidence I informed you that I 
 should recover, from the latter part of the text fastening 
 upon me in so peculiar a manner, ' Nevertheless, to abide 
 in the flesh,' &c. ? — Now," continued he, "it is reversed ; 
 the latter part I have nothing to do with ; the former is alto- 
 gether on my mmd." 
 
 On one occasion, when a cup was handed to him to 
 take a drink, he looked round upon his friends, many of 
 whom surrounded his bed, and smiling upon them severally, 
 he said : — 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 327 
 
 " On you, on me, on all be given, 
 
 The bread of life, which comes from heaven." 
 
 About ten days before his death, he was visited by his 
 much esteemed friend, Bishop Soule. The interview was 
 a most affecting one. He had just obtained reUef from 
 very violent suffering. When the Bishop entered the room, 
 he fixed his eyes upon him ; tlie Bishop look him by the 
 hand. For a few seconds they silently gazed upon each other, 
 when the Bishop said, " I trust, John, all is peace." — Being 
 much overcome, and after giving vent to his feelings, the 
 suffering saint replied, " / have a hope of which I trust I need 
 not be ashamed." The Bishop put up a most fervent petition, 
 to which Mr. Summerfield responded in a deeply devout 
 manner. When the prayer was concluded, he said, " Bless 
 the Lord, all within me shouts his praise;" he added, 
 " great is the weakness of my body." The Bishop ob- 
 served, " WeU, my dear brother, you have been doing the 
 will of the Lord, now you are suffering — so that in doing 
 and suffering, you are serving the Lord." To which he 
 rephed, " I bless God ! — the will of the Lord be done." 
 Then taking a valedictory salutation, he said, " Bishop, 
 farewell ! if I do not meet you again on earth, meet me in 
 heaven !" 
 
 At another time, he said, " I doubt not but many will 
 expect a dying testimony, but I know not how this may be 
 with me ; I would, however, give the answer of Whitfield 
 to a female friend : when she asked him what his dying 
 
328 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 testimony would be, Whitfield replied, he had preached 
 Christ, a living testimony." 
 
 A few days before he breathed his last, he had been 
 taking a little porter and water, when he requested that no 
 anodyne might be administered whenever it should appear 
 that the time of his dissolution was approaching. " Admi- 
 nister nothing," said he, " that will create a stupor, not even 
 so much as a little porter and water, as I wish to be per- 
 fectly collected, so that I may have an unclouded vfeic." 
 " Oh !" said he, " I fear not so much the consequences of 
 death, but nature's last struggle — flesh shrinks, when we 
 contemplate that — when the spirit is separated from the 
 body, it stands, it stands, after the dislodgement, trembling 
 and quivering — Oh ! it is that, it is that convulsive struggle 
 which harasses the mind !" On being told there would be 
 grace sufficient, he replied, " Well — yes — well — all is welV^ 
 
 After expressing his obligations in the most affectionate 
 manner to all his friends, many of whom he named, and 
 remarked on something peculiar in each of them, he spoke 
 of one for whom he felt more than common interest. " Oh," 
 said he, " how much that dear friend has been the subject 
 of my prayers ! With respect to the things of this Ufe, my 
 God will reward him — I believe he will never lack ui the 
 store nor in the basket — 1 trust he will meet me in glory — 
 this is the subject of my prayers for him." He then said 
 to his sister Blackstock — " Ellen, my dear, we have been 
 much separated ; we have not seen much of each other ; 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 329 
 
 my time has been greatly occupied without nay being able 
 to enjoy much of your society — but absence has never 
 banished you from my mind ; God is my record that you 
 £ire daily borne in the arms of faith to the footstool of his 
 mercy — I plead tliere for each one of you by name." 
 
 Witliin the last three days of his hfe, he appeared to be 
 no stranger to approaching dissolution. On the 11th of 
 June, he requested that his sister would have mourning pre- 
 pared. The day before he died, he wished to change liis 
 position in bed : he pointed toward the bedside, and spoke 
 of the grave — he W'as at the same time exceedingly rest- 
 less, and said, " I wish for a change ;" — when asked w' hat 
 he meant, he rephed, " I want a change, a change of form — 
 a change of every thing." Among his last articulate ex- 
 pressions, was an attempt to quote a passage of scripture 
 which he left unfinished. It was delivered with much 
 hesitancy — " Al — though — sin — has— entered — " Shortly 
 afterwards he called his brother to his bedside, took his 
 hand, and requested that he would stay by him. 
 
 About five o'clock on the evening preceding his death, 
 he called out in a surprisingly audible voice for his sisters, 
 each by name — " Anne ;-' being told that she was not 
 there, he called " AmeUa" — she was also absent, attending 
 her afflicted father ; he then called " Ellen," his eldest 
 sister, who was present. She took him by the hand, and 
 reminded him of the necessary absence of his sisters : he 
 42 
 
330 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 replied, " Well — tell Amelia — tell Anne — tell them — all's 
 
 PERFECTION." 
 
 In the course of the evening, his sister, thinking that he 
 was much more comfortable than he had been for a few 
 days past, (little did she think he was so near his end !) 
 embraced the opportunity of visiting her anxious parent, 
 who was confined to his bed in the country. She returned 
 about ten o'clock in the evening, with a message from hun 
 to his darling son. She said, "John, my dear, your father 
 sends his love to you : he desired me to say, that you are 
 the subject of his prayers night and day" — to which he 
 made no reply ; his eyes appeared fixed, but there was 
 no apprehension of his immediate death. She added, 
 " John, my love, is that right ?" He answered, " Certainly, 
 oh ! certainly." Observing that liis cough was very trou- 
 blesome, she said, " My dear John, you must have taken 
 cold from the windows being open :" he said, " very possi- 
 ble." She then gave him a drink, which was his last, as 
 she was about to retire to rest for a few hours. She gave 
 him a kiss, and said, " good night," to which he repUed. 
 " good night .'" — these were his last icords. 
 
 From this time until about four o'clock in the morning, 
 he appeared in a comfortable sleep, when a change was 
 first discovered to have taken place ; his friends were then 
 collected, and remained around his bed, until, without a 
 groan, or one convulsive struggle, his spirit departed at 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 331 
 
 twelve minutes past eleven in the forenoon of the 13th of 
 June, 1825. 
 
 Thus hved, and thus died, John Summerfield ; a man 
 whose name is not only written " in the Lamb's book of 
 life," and his piety recorded on iiigh ; — but one, the fra- 
 grant memorial of whose virtues deserves to be cherished 
 by the church below, as exhibiting in a high degree the 
 spirit wliich characterized his evangelical namesake, men- 
 tioned in the gospel — even "that other disciple whom 
 Jesus loved." 
 
 The sensation wliich the news of this event produced, 
 wherever the deceased preacher had been known, was 
 deep and general ; and testimonies of his piety, his elo- 
 quence, and the attractiveness of his entire character, im- 
 mediately appeared m many of the newspapers of the 
 United States. To have transcribed ihese spontaneous 
 effusions of respect — in many instances, the more valua- 
 ble as coming from individuals not to be supposed to have 
 any favourable predilections toward the body to which Mr. 
 Summerfield belonged — would have been a pleasing task; 
 but that w'hich constitutes a chief excellency of the docu- 
 ments in question, forms at the same time one mam objec- 
 tion to their repetition in this place : — they are almost 
 imiformly couched in language at once laudatory to the 
 memory of the deceased, and honourable to the feeUng of 
 the writers, while the choicer epithets and illustrations 
 which they contain, are not unfrequently implicated with 
 
332 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 obituary notices of considerable length. Collectively, 
 therefore, they would occupy more space, and present less 
 variety, than might be deemed compatible with the design 
 of the present work. 
 
 On Tuesday, the 14th of June, the funeral took place. 
 The procession being formed, moved from Dr. Beekman's 
 house in Courtland-street, at a quarter past four o'clock in 
 the afternoon, in the order following: — Members of the 
 Young Men's Missionary Society, of which Mr. Summer- 
 field was President — Ministers of various denominations, 
 six of whom were pall bearers — the mourners, and a long 
 train of the friends of the deceased. The streets through 
 which the procession passed, were greatly crowded ; a 
 degree of seriousness marked every countenance ; indeed 
 the pubhc sympathy could hardly have manifested itself 
 more than it did on this occasion : the loss of a great and 
 good man appeared to be sensibly felt by all classes of the 
 community. 
 
 Arriving at John-street, the corpse was taken into the Me- 
 thodist church, which was filled to overflowing; an eloquent 
 and impressive discourse was delivered by the Rev. T. 
 Bkch ; and the service concluded by a solemn and affect- 
 ing prayer from the Rev. Henry Chase. The procession 
 was then again formed, and proceeded to the steamboat 
 ferry ; where it crossed over to Brooklyn, Long-Island : 
 here the corpse was again taken into the Methodist church, 
 when the Rev. Nathan Bangs read the 15th chapter of 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 333 
 
 1 Corinthians, and concluded by reading the burial ser- 
 vice, after which the body w as silently committed to the 
 grave. His voice, while hving, had often been heard in 
 this temple, and there " his body, precious even in death, 
 sleeps near the spot where the doctrines of the Christieui 
 denomination to which he was attached were first preached 
 in America : — there, it will await that morning of which 
 he loved, when hving, to speak, and of which he some- 
 times spoke ux entrancing language — the morning of the 
 resurrection." 
 
 The tombstone over the grave of Summerfield bears 
 the following luminous inscription, wTitten by the Rev. 
 J. N. Dajiforth, of Newcastle, a minister of the Presby- 
 terian church ; 
 
 Sacred to the Memory 
 of 
 
 THE REV. JOHN SUMIVIERFIELD, A. M. 
 ^t. 27. 
 
 A Preacher, of the Methodist Connexion, bom 
 in England — bom again in Ireland ; 
 by the first a child of genius, by the second a child of God 
 called to preach the Gospel at the age of nineteen. 
 ^ In Ireland, England, and America, 
 
 himself 
 
 the spiritual Father of a numerous and happy family. 
 
 At this Tomb, 
 Genius, Eloquence, and Religion, mingle their tears. 
 
334 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 Holy in life, ardent in love, and incessant in labour, 
 he was 
 
 to the Church a pattern, to sinful men an angel of mercy ; 
 to the world a blessing. 
 In him were rarely combined 
 gentleness and energy of character ; 
 by the one attracting universal love, 
 by the other diffusing happiness around him. 
 Singular sweetness and simplicity of manners, 
 inimitable eloquence in the pulpit, 
 natural, graceful, and fervent, 
 rendered him 
 
 the charm of the social circle, and the idol of the popular assembly. 
 Upon the lips that moulder beneath this marble, 
 thousands hung in silent wonder : 
 his element was not the breath of fame, but 
 the communion and favour of God. 
 He closed a scene of patient suffering, and slept in Jesus, in the 
 city of New- York, on the 13th day of June, 1825. 
 By faith he Uved on earth ; 
 
 in hope he died ; 
 by love he lives in heaven. 
 
 Besides the above memorial, another monument has 
 been dedicated to the memory of the lamented Summer- 
 field. This is a beautiful cenotaph, which the Young 
 Men's Missionary Society of the Methodist Church, has 
 erected to commemorate the virtues of their late President, 
 and their love for him. It was executed by Messrs. Dixon 
 and Oatwell, and is placed in the front of the church in 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 335 
 
 John-Street, near the western comer. The tablet is of black 
 marble, finely polished, in the shape of a cone, and insert- 
 ed in the wall of the church. Near the base of this, an 
 urn is affixed, standing upon a pedestal, with a few vo- 
 lumes of books on either side. From one side of the 
 urn a mantle hangs Aown in graceful folds, and at the 
 right of it is a scroll hjilf unrolled. These are elegantly 
 sculptured from a block of very fine and beautifid white 
 marble. Upon the tablet in the centre, the following 
 tribute, from the pen of Bishop Soule, is inscribed : — 
 
 SACRED 
 
 to the Memory of the 
 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD, A. M. 
 
 " A burning and a shining light." 
 He commenced his ministerial labours in the connexion 
 of the Wesleyan Methodists in Ireland : 
 but employed the last four years of his life 
 in the itinerant ministry 
 of the Methodist Episcopal Church in the United States. 
 His mind was stored with the treasures of science. 
 From a child he knew the holy scriptures. 
 Meekness and humility, 
 united with extraordinary intellectual powers, 
 exhibited in his character a model 
 of christian and ministerial excellence. 
 His perception of truth was clear and comprehensive ; 
 his language pure, 
 and his action chaste and simple. 
 
336 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 The learned and the illiterate attended his ministry 
 with admiration, 
 and felt that his preaching was 
 in the demonstration of the spirit and of power. 
 Distinguished by the patience of hope, 
 and the labour of love, 
 he finished his course in peace and triumph. 
 Born in Preston, England, Jan. 31st, 179S. 
 Died in this city, June 13th, 1825. 
 
 Beneath the tablet, upon the base of the black marble 
 ground work, is the following inscription : — 
 
 " This monument was erected by the 'Young Men's Missionary 
 Society,' of which the deceased was President, with sincere 
 prayer that the ardour of his zeal in the cause of Missions may 
 live in his successors, when this marble shall moulder into dust." 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 337 
 
 SECTION XVIII. 
 
 Geixeral concluding observations. 
 
 The foregoing narrative will, it may be presumed, have 
 but httle ambiguity, as to most, if any parts, of Mr. Sum- 
 merfield's character and proceedings. Open, indeed, and 
 transparent as were all his actions, there are no difficulties 
 to be reconciled, no doubts to be cleared away ; and happily 
 it may with equal truth be added, that so obviously and 
 continually was the spiritual purity of his motives reflected 
 in his private as well as public life, that candour does not 
 impose on his biographer the ungracious task of seeking, by 
 extenuation or apology, to colour a single particular of his 
 ministerial career. If apology be necessary in any quarter, 
 the present writer feels that it is rather due from liimself to 
 those venerable men, ministers and others, who may hap- 
 pen to peruse these pages, for his remarks incidentally 
 made on the details of Mr. Summerfield's religwus 
 experience. 
 
 This is delicate ground, and the writer trusts he has 
 trodden it as delicately, as circumspectly, and at the same 
 time, as scriptuirally, and methodistically, as possible. The 
 2 P 43 
 
338 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 susceptible subject of these memoirs undoubtedly received i 
 in Ireland, that clear sense of pardon, justification, and ac- 1 1 
 ceptance with God, to which he ever afterwards referred I 
 as his spiritual birth ; and yet, in the further and future I 
 work of sanctification, the hght of spiritual illumination in 
 him (whatever may have been the case in others) did not 
 uninterruptedly shine " brighter and brighter unto the perfect i 
 day ;" but clouds and darkness frequently intercepted the 1 
 rays of that sun of righteousness, which had so evidently a 
 arisen on his soul. Indeed, the Lord seems to have led t 
 his servant, not with the shadow by day, and the glory by e 
 night, of the pillar of cloud and fire, but alternately amidst s 
 perpetual natural gloom, presenting to him the light of the g 
 flame that cheered the Israelites on the verge of the Red j r 
 sea, and the darkness behind, that frowned upon the Egyp- 
 tians, their pursuers. But God, who is " love," was equally ! 
 present in the splendour and the terror to him — in the i 
 hidings as in the revealings of his face — and by that mys- ti 
 terious dispensation, we cannot doubt, led him, as the best 
 mode of guidance, tluough the sea and the wilderness, 
 over Jordan to Canaan and Jerusalem, which is above. p 
 
 hi 
 
 Perhaps the movement least explicitly accounted for, i 
 
 especially as to the suddenness of it, may be Mr. Summer- ■» 
 field's emigration from Ireland to America. I have re- 
 
 seiTed for this place, in preference to interrupting the nar- p 
 
 rative elsewhere, the introduction of a passage from his - k 
 diary, written at Marseilles, in February, 1823. After 
 some solemn reflections upon his removal from Europe, and 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIEI.D. 
 
 339 
 
 settlement in the " new world," which he observes will 
 not only operate upon the whole of his future exis- 
 tence in time, but with respect to himself, run into eternity, 
 he proceeds : 
 
 " Circumstances of various kinds, and a strange coinci- 
 dence of events, which could only be resolved into the 
 leadings of a providential hand, fully confii med in ray dear 
 and honoured father, a conviction he had long experienced, 
 that America was henceforward to become our home. My 
 eldest sister's having married and removed to that country, 
 several years before, had always since that time been re- 
 garded by him as an tamest, or rather a pledge, that the 
 removal of the whole family would succeed sooner or later. 
 
 "Having in the auturrm of 1820 finished his engage- 
 ment as the manager of a certain establishment in the 
 city of Cork, and finding no opening into which he might 
 enter in that city, and thereby provide things honest in the 
 sight of all men — although he sought for it with all dili- 
 gence, connected with incessant prayer by night and day — 
 he paused, and began to consider this as the time to which 
 he had so long looked forward. Having exercised the 
 strictest economy over all his domestic concerns, since 
 his engagement in that city, and thereby recruited his im- 
 poverished circumstances, he now found that he was pos- 
 sessed of the means, and but barely the means, of transport- 
 ing us to the United States ; and fearing that these means 
 would so consume away by much procrastination, as to 
 
340 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 render it impracticable perhaps during the remainder of his 
 hfe, he immediately concluded, after agonizing prayer to 
 the Father of Lights to direct him, to prepare to quit his 
 native land. A vessel having put into the port of Cork by 
 stress of weather, presented an opportunity which seldom 
 occurs there. As the place of her destination was the re- 
 sidence of my brother and sister in America, we regarded 
 it as the last preparatory step by which the kind providence 
 of God had led us on. Preliminaries adjusted, we bade 
 adieu to Ireland, and to Europe, on the I2th of December, 
 1820, and arrived in New- York the 17th of March follow- 
 ing, having first sailed to Portugal to take in cargo. Our 
 numbers were, two sons, two daughters, my dear and only 
 parent, and a servant-maid. 
 
 "As regards myself, independent of a father's com- 
 mands, which were laid upon me, I too regarded the con- 
 nexion of preceding events, which transpired in my 
 ministerial labours, as no other than the leadings of the 
 same God, who 
 
 * Plants his footsteps in the sea, 
 And rides upon the storm !' 
 
 " My public duties in Ireland, for the two years previous, 
 had greatly impaired, if not totally ruined, my health — my 
 journal for that period will bear ample testimony thereto ; — 
 this, added to the general humidity of the country, rendered 
 some change necessary, if my hfe was to be preserved. 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 341 
 
 For this purpose, among others, I visited England in May, 
 1820, and remained there till after the Liverpool Confe- 
 rence in tlie July and August following ; — my hope wEis, 
 that through the interference of many of the English 
 preachers, with whom, in the interval I had become ac- 
 quainted, I might be removed from Ireland to the air of 
 my own country, and that the change would have a 
 favourable effect upon my constitution ; as also that my 
 labours would be greatly reduced, — a measure which my 
 situation at the time imperiously demanded. But notwith- 
 standing the efforts which were made, and the petition of 
 the Manchester Society for me to be sent to them, the 
 Irish representative, brother Tobias, refused to give con- 
 sent to my removal, without which consent, the British 
 Conference could do nothing. At the same time knowing 
 how tender and affecting were the ties by which I was 
 bound to the scene of my past labours, and my past afflic- 
 tions too, — he failed not to use every persuasion with me ; 
 in tliis he succeeded too well, — I gave up my intention, and 
 returned to Ireland, to the city of Cork, where the Confe- 
 rence of the Irish brethren had stationed me at their pre- 
 ceding session during my absence in England." 
 
 It is a striking proof of Summerfield's sincere devotion 
 to God and his cause, that (in obedience to his father's 
 commands, as appears above) he cheerfully accompanied his 
 parent to America, leaving all his prospects in Ireland and 
 England behind, though he had arrived at perilous popu- 
 larity in the former, and was most temptmgly pressed to 
 2f2 
 
342 
 
 MEMOIRS OP THE 
 
 settle in the latter country, — the fields, in which ambition 
 in the shape of Methodist preaching, would choose above 
 all the world beside, to shine, in its own vain glory ; — nay, 
 in which the honest and conscientious man of gifts and 
 graces, might justifiably deem that he would be the most 
 usefully employed. This, then, was forsaking all, deny- 
 ing himself, and taking up his cross to follow Christ. 
 
 It will have been observed that, throughout the preceding 
 pages, every allusion to Mr. Summerfield's father recog- 
 nises him as a professor of that vital godhness, which so 
 remarkably distinguished his son. He was, however, a man 
 of warm feelings and sanguine temperament ; and these, 
 as I have already intimated, led him frequently to miscal- 
 culate the results of his own upright intentions, when they 
 failed to accord with that worldly prudence which is so 
 generally, and in most cases so justly the parent of success 
 in temporal affairs. But that his moral integrity, or his 
 religious sincerity, were justly impeachable, I have yet to 
 learn ; and therefore, as the biographer of the son, who 
 constantly blesses God for smcA. a father, and whose filial 
 obedience is one of the brightest jewels in his crown of 
 holiness, I should hold myself utterly unworthy of having 
 been intrusted with the deUneation of his character, did I 
 not express my conscientious conviction, that the man 
 from whose diary the following extracts are taken, is wor- 
 thy of being remembered in the parental relation with 
 liim to whom they refer : — 
 
 \ 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 343 
 
 " May 26th, 1825. For the last three daj's my mind 
 has been kept in peace, resting in God according to his 
 word ; though at times awfully concerned respecting John's 
 affliction, which I fear is unto death, and lest his mind 
 should not be happy in God. — I was much relieved this 
 
 morning ; being informed that brother W had visited 
 
 him, as I had requested, and had been a great comfort to 
 his mind. Thanks be to God for this ! 
 
 " May 30. My mind, in general, has been at rest, as 
 much as could be expected, considering my dear John's 
 affliction; he being now upon the eve of time in the 
 midst of the most promising usefulness. How mysterious 
 are the ways of God ! but he sees the end from the be- 
 ginning, and does all things well. 
 
 " Dear Doctor Baker and his wife have come all the 
 way from Baltimore to see my dear John ; how kind their 
 hearts ! God bless them, and all his friends. 
 
 " June 7th. There is a prospect of Jolm's recovery, 
 consequently I am more composed — oh, that this severe 
 affliction may be sanctified to his good, and that of all my 
 family — the Lord deals kindly with me, in my affliction 
 being made tolerable. 
 
 " June 17th. For the last ten days,my mind has been kept 
 in hourly suspense. My dear John departed this life on 
 Monday, the 13th of June, and was interred the next 
 
344 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 day beside his friend the Rev. W. Ross. — From the ao 
 counts I have received, I have every reason to thank God 
 for his safe arrival in heaven, where I hope to meet him 
 soon, and all my dear children that are left behind : I 
 thank God for giving me such a son ; may his death 
 speak louder than all his preaching. — Lord, prepare me to 
 follow him to thy kingdom !" 
 
 Few ministers in America ever attained a higher degree 
 of popularity than John Summerfield ; and no man ever 
 courted it less : it commenced with his first sermon, and 
 continued to the end of his short life. It would be worse 
 than affectation to insinuate that he was insensible to, or 
 even that he undervalued the homage paid to his talents ; 
 but really when we reflect upon his youth, it seems little 
 less than a miracle that he should have been so wholly 
 preserved from the pernicious influence of popular praise. 
 Modesty and humility were prominent traits in his cha- 
 racter ; this was universally admitted : the Rev. W. Nevins, 
 of the Presbyterian church, Baltimore, says in a letter, " I 
 have been astonished that in all my intercourse with Sum- 
 merfield, I never heard any thing from him, even by acci- 
 dent, that savoured of vanity ; — he was hterally clothed 
 with humility, — nor was the garment scanty. What po- 
 pular preacher but he, ever passed before the world, with- 
 out being at least accused of affectation ? — That he was, I 
 never heard." 
 
 He hked to preach in a church where there was a vee- 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 345 
 
 tr)', into which he could retire mimediately after service ; 
 where that was not the case, as often happens in Americe^ 
 he has sometimes felt it severely, and been so discomposed, 
 and dissatisfied with himself, as to wish that there was 
 a trap door in the pulpit through which he might escape. 
 If he attended the preacliing of others, he preferred an 
 obscure place among the congregation, as he did not like 
 to attract observation. It was a pleasing trait in his cha- 
 racter, that he would willingly listen to any advice that 
 might be given by a friend — and some would undertake 
 to find fault with little things ; for instance, when he arri- 
 ved in America, he wore a gold seal to his watch, which he 
 soon found was £in eyesore to some ; he therefore promptly 
 laid it aside ; and the like of a plaid cloak which he got, 
 as he would not, he said, offend one of the weakest of his 
 brethren. 
 
 The preparation which he generally made for the pulpit 
 was as foUows : he would draw a rough outUne of a ser- 
 mon on a sheet or half sheet of paper ; and after preaching 
 it, determine whether or not it was worthy of being tran- 
 scribed into his book «?/ sermons ; if it satisfied him, he 
 would enter it into his book the next day. Many persons 
 would doubtless expect to meet, m a work of this nature, 
 with some specimens of those discourses which produced 
 such wonderful effects : nor should they have been disap- 
 pointed, had it appeared that the present writer, by copying, 
 or filling up one or more of the sketches left by the preacher, 
 could have done any thing Uke justice to that extraordinarj'' 
 44 
 
346 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 felicity with which his own viva voce eloquence filled up 
 the prescribed outline. Such an attempt, however, would 
 only exhibit a gratuitous failure ; indeed, to a certain ex- 
 tent, the utmost fideUty of the pen, even of the author him- 
 self, would have conveyed as inadequate an idea of the 
 fascinations of his tongue, and the overflowings of his 
 hea7't, as an -indifferent reporter might happen to do of 
 either. He has indeed left one pubUshed discourse, which 
 as little invaUdates the latter, as 1 fear the present work 
 may the former clause of the following remark : — " I almost 
 compassionate the biographer of Summerfield, however 
 great hie graphic talents may be," says Mx. Nevins, " for 
 I anticipate that the best written memoir of him, will be to 
 the liviiig, speaking, and acting Summerfield, very much 
 what his best printed discourse was to the unwritten elo- 
 quence that he used to pour forth from his heart, in his 
 most ordinary sermons — for the eloquence of our friend was 
 pre-eminently that of the heart. It was the oratory of 
 nature — and I have often remarked, that in any age, in 
 any country, in any language, and under all circum- 
 stances, he would have been the same magic master of the 
 h\iman heart, that we felt him to be." 
 
 Let it not, however, be hence inferred by any who never 
 heard hhn preach, that the sermons which dehghted and 
 edified such unprecedentedly large congregations, were 
 deficient in theological excellency — quite the reverse. I 
 have before me one of the precious volumes of manuscript 
 sermons, above alluded to ; it is a beautiful autograph of 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 347 
 
 his piety and industry, and many of those happy combina- 
 tions of thought, those luminous expositions of the doctrines 
 of the gospel, and those judicious illustrations of the faith 
 and practice of Christianity, which formed the substrata of 
 his eloquent discourses. But, however crowded and intel- 
 ligible the contractions in the writing, it will readily be 
 conceived that sketches is a proper epithet to designate a 
 collection of the outlines of one hundred and seventy-six 
 sermons^ comprised in seventy-four post 8vo pages. 
 
 To the question which may naturally occur here — what 
 then were the predominating quahties of Mr. Summerfield's 
 mmd? The answer ought unequivocally to be, good 
 SENSE, and good taste — quahties most rarely found in 
 combination with fervency of feehng, and a spontaneous 
 eloquence. To say that he was not a man of genius, in 
 the true import of the term, would be to deny the whole 
 testimony of his hfe ; while to assert that that genius was 
 of the very highest order, would be to substitute exaggera- 
 tion for fact. I have before me the follomng sentence in 
 the hand-writing of Mr. Montgomery : — " Summerfield," 
 says the poet, " had intense animal feeling, and much of 
 morbid imagination ; but of poetic feeling and poetic imagi- 
 nation, very little — at least, there is very little trace of 
 either in any thing that he has left, beyond a few vivid but 
 momentary flashes in his sermons." 
 
 His personal appearance, although not particularly 
 striking on ordinary occasions, was allowed by universal 
 
348 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 consent to be extiemely fascinating in the pulpit. His 
 pountenance, when in tolerable health, was one of the 
 most lovely description, yet had it at the same time an ex- 
 pression of calmness and solemnity not common with one 
 so yoimg. The Rev. J. Danforth, a Presbyterian minis- 
 ter, in a generous, judicious, and eloquent obituary notice 
 of his friend, observes : — " But he had his inspiration ; and 
 then it [his discourse] was — not splendid, nor magnificent, 
 nor overpowering — but simple, pure, gentle, and heavenly, 
 even to a degree of sublimity, and certainly to such a de- 
 gree as I beUeve is rarely connected with mortality. His 
 eye, which, like his countenance, possessed, on your near 
 approach to him for the first time, nothing positively 
 agreeable, assumed a dark hue in the pulpit ; and as to 
 the rest of his face, if you wished to see meekness itself 
 embodied in human form, there it was in Summerfield, as 
 he stood in the sacred desk, the messenger of the Lamb of 
 God — in his face, and attitude, and manner — in every 
 . mile of rapture that lighted up, and every shade of melan- 
 choly that passed across his features. He never used notes 
 in the desk, and even smiled sometimes at the practice. 
 He was, however, systematic, and was continually inter- 
 weaving Scripture, in the most natural and graceful man- 
 ner, with the thread of his discourse. His mind seemed to 
 be stored, his very spirit to be imbued, with the word of 
 God. It dwelt richly in him in all wisdom and spiritual 
 understanding. He preached from fifty minutes to an 
 hour— too long for his feeble and wasting frame." 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMEKFIELD. 349 
 
 It has frequently been said, that no person ever did s-o 
 much in the United States towards destroying sectarian 
 bigotry, as Mr. Summerfield. Every sincere preacher of 
 the gospel was to him a brother ; and those of almost 
 every denomination invited him in turn to preach for them. 
 Immediately on his arrival, on one occasion, at one of the 
 principal cities, he was waited upon by a number of gen- 
 tlemen of the Protestant Episcopal Church, to express a de- 
 sire that he should preach in one of their liouses. With 
 this request he stated his wilUngness to comply, provided the 
 consent of the Bishop could be obtained. The Bishop was 
 consulted, but declined acquiescing — observing, that he 
 greatly regarded Mr. Summerfield as a man, and esteemed 
 him as a minister, but that the canon of the church pre- 
 vented his consent, however much he might himself be 
 pleased to hear the young man preach. Being informed 
 of this, Mr. S. pleasantly rephed — " Well, it matters not ; 
 but I have always thought it was usual to spike the can- 
 non in times of peace." 
 
 The following letter from the Rev. Dr. Abercrombie, an 
 eminent minister of the Episcopal Church, to Mr. Summer- 
 field, is equally honourable to the writer and the receiver. 
 It is dated Philadelphia, June 1st, 1822 : — " Rev. and dear 
 Sir : The very powerful impression which the exercise of 
 your ministry ui this city has made upon the hearts of 
 many of your hearers, induces me thus to express a most 
 ardent wish on their behalf, that you would soon indulge us 
 with another visit, that you may confirm and render indc- 
 3g 
 
350 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 lible that happy effect. Much of the good seed has fallen 
 among thorns^ and will, I fear, become choaked, and un- 
 fruitful, unless invigorated and nourished by your refresh- 
 ing agency. Your exertions among us, Sir, have been 
 blessed with great success in awakening many sleeping, 
 and £Jarming many careless professors of Christianity ; 
 and as a brother labourer, though a very feeble one, in the 
 vineyard of our heavenly Master, I can no longer resist 
 addressing to you the solicitation given to St. Paul—' Come 
 over into Macedonia, and help us' — your ' heait's desire 
 and prayer to God for sinners, is, that they may be saved, 
 and as the talents intrusted to you have been happily im- 
 proved among us, I trust that you Avill be permitted by 
 divine providence to establish the good work which you 
 have begun, and carry it on to perfection. Your sincerity 
 and zeal as a Christian, and your urbanity as a gentleman, 
 will, I am confident, induce you to pardon this intrusion 
 upon your time and attention. As it is generally known 
 I enjoy the pleasure of being acquainted vnih you, I am 
 frequently asked, when uill Mr. Summerfield favour us 
 with another visit? How, my good Sir, shall I answer 
 this question ? With unfeigned respect and esteem, I am, 
 Rev. and dear Sir, your affectionate friend and brother in 
 Christ, James Abercrombie." 
 
 It may not be improper here to introduce an anecdote, 
 which has frequently been repeated, from versions more or 
 less correct. It is substantially as follows : While Mr. 
 Summerfield was lying in bed, durmg one of his illnesses, 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 351 
 
 he was visited by two highly respectable clergymen, one of 
 whom, commiserating his early subjection to such extreme 
 suffering in consequence of his ministerial labours, inquired, 
 " how old are you !" To the astonishment of the divine, 
 the suffering saint rephed — "I was born at Preston, in 
 England, in 1798, and born again at Dublin, in Ireland, 
 in 1817." The visiter expressed at once his surprise and 
 curiosity, at what to him was so strange a declaration. 
 Mr. Summerfield, no less excited, with great propriety, ex- 
 claimed in the language of Jesus to Nicodemus, " Art thou 
 a master in Israel, and knowest not these things'?" and 
 then related to them the history of his own conversion. 
 The sequel is gratifying : The reverend gentleman, after 
 departing, inquired of his clerical companion whether or 
 not he knew any thing about this strange doctrine, and 
 finding that he too was a subject of the same happy 
 change, set himself to obtain the like blessing, with a sin- 
 cerity and success of which his subsequent ministrations 
 bore satisfactory testimony. 
 
 Summerfield was commendably particular with regard 
 to his person ; plain, but remarkably neat ; indeed, care- 
 lessness in any respect did not belong to him — he equally 
 disliked slovenliness and finery in a minister of the gospel, 
 justly holding that every thing ought to correspond with the 
 dignity and importance of his oflice. 
 
 In private hfe he was as much beloved, as he was ad- 
 mired in his public character. " There was," says a minis- 
 
352 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 terial friend, "something unearthly about the man — anc 
 yet he was a man, and as afiable and condescending, as if 
 to use his own expression, he was ' the servant of all.' An] 
 one who was disposed to complain of his being too mucl 
 the subject of conversation, (justly or unjustly,) or of hi 
 being a youth unworthy of such premature celebrity, forgo 
 it all after' sitting down a few minutes in his company. 
 There was something so endearing and truly affectionat 
 in his manners, that it was no wonder his company wa 
 courted by all ranks. 
 
 In conversation, he was chaste, lively, and sometime 
 facetious ; proUfic of anecdotes and remarks of a rebgiou 
 tendency. He had, in astonishing perfection, the faculty o1 
 remembering names ; it mattered not how large a famil; 
 he might visit, should there be a dozen cliildren, he wouli 
 inquire the names of each, and would ever afterward re 
 member them by nam,e, even to the servants. 
 
 Mr. Summerfield, us before noticed, was fond of preach 
 ing to children, and in these services his manner was pecu 
 liarly engaging. It was a delightful scene, to witness hi 
 appearance on these occasions : himself like a boy amonj 
 his juniors, leaning gracefully over the pulpit, in a manne 
 best comporting with the familiar and affectionate style of 
 his address — his juvenile auditory occupying the body of 
 the church, and listening with the most steady attention t< 
 their ingenuous teacher. Occasionally he put questions t< 
 them, and would encourage oral answers, and tell then 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 353 
 
 what his next subject would be, that they might be pre- 
 pared to reply to his interrogatories. His scope and illus- 
 trations, were sometimes so happily appropriate, that the 
 children would remember nearly a whole sermon. After 
 enforcing most sweetly, on one occasion, the text — " They 
 that seek me early shall find me," he said — " are there 
 any of my dear httle hearers who will pledge themselves 
 to meet me to-morrow morning at the throne of grace ?" — 
 several immediately replied, " I will." He endeavoured to 
 excite a missionary spirit in the children, and introduced 
 among them the " 'Tis But" box, that they might save a 
 few cents for so good a cause. In 1822, he wrote an in- 
 genious juvenile speech, which was delivered by an interest- 
 ing boy, eleven years of age, proposing a missionary resolu- 
 tion, (which Mr. Summerfield himself seconded,) the litfln 
 fellow presenting at the same time, as the representative of 
 the other children, the sum of four hundi ed and ten dollars. 
 
 In his love of children, he resembled Mr. Wesley : it 
 was pleasing, on some occasions, to see the little ones 
 crowd about the altar, before leaving church, each anxious 
 to be noticed by him. He would sometimes from the pul- 
 pit invite them to call upon him at his lodgings, to which 
 they repaired in groups, when he would leave his study 
 and spend some time famiharly with them. Children 
 from all parts of the city, would bring their little Hymn 
 books, for him to insert their names, which he usually did, 
 accompanied with some suitable remark or motto. Among 
 2 G 2 45 
 
354 
 
 MEMOIRS OP THE 
 
 the numerous instances of his attention to the lambs oi 
 Christ's flock, occurs the following : — a boy, about eleven 
 years of age, after one of the sermons to children^ remain- 
 ed till the congregation had nearly dispersed, when he 
 attracted Mr. Summerfield's notice ; stepping forward, he 
 said, " my little boy, do you want any thing with me ?" — 
 he appeared overcome with his feelings, and could only 
 say " Mr. Summerfield" — " Well, my love, what do you 
 want with Mr. Summerfield ?" the boy, encouraged, said 
 he wished Mr. Summerfield would call at his mother's : on 
 inquiring where his mother lived, the name of the street, 
 and the number of the house, were given. " What is your 
 name ?" — " John Brown," replied the boy : " Well, Joh)i 
 Bi'own, to-morrow, at 11 o'clock, I shall pay you a visit." 
 Accordingly, at the time appointed, Mr. Summerfield 
 waited upon him ; he found John busily employed sweep- 
 ing and fixing the fire, and preparing for his visiter. 
 " Well, John, here I am, accoi ding to my appointment." — 
 John requested him to take a seat until he had found his 
 mother — she was a pious woman, and said that her son 
 had heard him preach, whenever he had addressed the 
 children, and that his naind had been much impressed in 
 consequence. Mr. Summerfield knelt down and prayed 
 with them ; and before he went away, encomaged John, 
 and gave him some good advice ; entered his name on the 
 list of those for whom he felt a peculiar interest, and told 
 him that he should keep his eye upon him ; requesting 
 him to come and speak to him whenever he had an oppor- 
 
REV, JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 356 
 
 tuiiity, that he might ascertain what progress his little 
 friend John Brown was making. Carping criticism, or 
 cold philosophy, may despise these little traits, but minis- 
 terial wisdom will not. 
 
 After Mr. Summerfield's severe illness in Philadelphia, 
 ill 1822, when he had just so far recovered as to be able 
 to ride out, he stopped to visit a pious presbyterian lady, 
 who, like liimself, had been on the threshold of eternity. 
 In the course of conversation, she inquired — - Mr. Sum- 
 merfield, what were your peculiar views and feeUngs at 
 that solemn moment, which it was thought would be yoiu 
 last ?" — Mr. Summerfield said that he felt an indescribable 
 peace, subduing peace — " If (continued he) I had at that 
 moment given utterance, it would have been peace ! peace .' 
 — I felt as though the spirit were waiting for the word 
 ' come' — as though it were soaring ! I looked back upon 
 the earth, and I discovered that there were two slender cords 
 which held me — the church and my family — but I felt that 
 even these could give way." After a pause, he added, 
 " perhaps it may be thought strange, but I have never 
 desired that mine should be the triximphant end; singular 
 to say, I have ever coveted the end of peace — peace — 
 peace .'" — 
 
 Before he left Baltimore the last time, and but a few 
 weeks previous to his death, Mr. Summerfield was waited 
 upon by a committee of ladies from the Orj^an Asylum, 
 
356 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 requesting him to plead the cause of their institution. He 
 informed them that the state of his health was such as 
 to preclude him from many duties cormected with, his 
 own church ; at the same time expressing much regret at 
 not being able to comply with their earnest solicitation. 
 One of the ladies thereupon said — " Mr. Summerfield, 
 promise that on your return from New- York, in the course 
 of the spring, you will suffer us to have a claim on you ?" 
 — raising his eyes heavenward, and clasping his hands — 
 he replied, " before that time, I expect to be in glory." 
 This remark produced an electrifying shock upon the 
 minds of his friends in Baltimore : and has often been 
 adverted to since his death, as appearing somewhat pro- 
 phetical. 
 
 It may justly be a subject of gratitude with his friends, 
 and with the members of that chmch, with which he was 
 more especially connected, that short as was the life, and 
 interrupted the ministerial career of this ardent champion 
 of the cross, that he not only left — but in no sUght degree 
 contributed, to make America better than he found it. 
 His last appearance and efforts in public, were, as aheady 
 stated, to witness, and with his brother ministers, to cele- 
 brate, one of the triumphs of Christian charity, which it 
 had ever been his aim to promote. At the first public 
 meeting of the American Tract Society, he was present— 
 though on the verge of the grave, — to present the follow- 
 ing resolution, which he had himself drawn up : — " That 
 
REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. 
 
 357 
 
 as all permanent good cometh down from the Father of 
 lights, we do give ourselves continually to prayer for his 
 blessing on this institution, and do urge it upon all the lovers 
 of our Zion, to aid us herein by their devout suppUca- 
 tions." This resolution he advocated in a strain of pious 
 feiToiu-, which well became one who was so soon to join 
 in the songs of the blessed. " Hume, Voltaire, Paine, and 
 other infidels," said he, " have predicted the downfall of 
 Christianity. I would they could be present to witness the 
 exercises of this day, and the growing prosperity of the 
 rehgion which they affected to contemn and despise — I 
 would they could see the triiunphs of the cross, and par- 
 take of the blessings which they shghted." He declared, 
 that of all the anniversaries of benevolent institutions, 
 which he had attended, in Europe, in Canada, and in the 
 United States, there was not one in which he had seen a 
 spirit of brotherly love, and christian affection among dif- 
 ferent denominations, more manifest. This he felt was 
 to be attributed to the presence of a divine influence. His 
 own sense of the goodness of God, and the spectacle he 
 then witnessed, affected him to tears agam and again 
 during the course of the meeting, for he felt that the 
 spirit and atmosphere of heaven fiUed the room : but he 
 looked so pale, so cadaverous and emaciated, that his 
 friends could hardly suppress a tear at his appearance. He 
 had finished his course ; and providence, as if to render 
 more affecting the completion of the circle of his minis- 
 terial labours, so ordered, that his last faltermg accents in 
 
358 MEMOIRS, &C. 
 
 public, should be heard in the very same room, in which 
 a few years before he had first publicly opened his hps 
 in his adopted country, when, in the Bible Society, he held 
 the audience in rapt surprise, astonishment, and admira- 
 lion. 
 
 THE END. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 Mr. Summerfield's parentage, birth, and education — goes to reside at Liver- 
 pool — a remarkable dream. 15 
 
 SECTION n. 
 
 Removal to Dublin — falls into dissipated habits— occasional contrition — cor- 
 respondence with Dr. Raffles — thinks of entering the ministry among the 
 dissenters — goes into business — afresh irregidarities — attends the courts of 
 law 28 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 His conversion — attends prayer meetings — verses to the Rev. P. and Mrs. 
 
 French — interesting letter to his class-leader 42 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 Begins to keep a diary — attends Sunday Schools — gives an exhortation — 
 incessantly studies the holy scriptures — attends an Irish vsrake — fiUal obe- 
 dience — falls into temptation 61 
 
 SECTION V. 
 
 Studies incessantly — thinks about the Christian ministry — health very deli- 
 ligious experience — ardent piety— dreams. ... 74 
 SECTION VI. 
 
 Received as a Local Preacher — attention to domestic duties — visits for the 
 " Stranger's Friend Society" — anxieties about his ministerial call — over- 
 taken with a fault — excessive fasting — removal to Cork — entire devoted- 
 
 ncss to God 88 
 
 SECTION VIL 
 
 ontroversy about the Sacrament — the Clones' party— Summerficid becomes 
 a popular preacher — preaches almost incessantly — ministerial anxieties — 
 travels and addresses large auditories in Ireland with great success. HI 
 SECTION VIIL 
 
 letums to Dublin — popularity increases — dedicates himself afresh to God — 
 visits Cork — his fervour — polemical discussion — falls from his horse — 
 abundance of his labours — receives a conference appointment — Missionary 
 speech 128 
 
360 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 SECTION IX. 
 
 Religious experience— resolves to avoid tea parties— preaches at the request 
 of the Earl of Rosse — a dangerous illness — resumes his labours, and ad- 
 dresses large congregations— exercises of spirit — loyalty — anxious to visit 
 
 England. 151 
 
 SECTION X. 
 
 Anives in England, and preaches at Bristol— Exeter — attends conference at 
 Liverpool— entertains thoughts of going to America — embarks for New- 
 York 170 
 
 SECTION XI. 
 
 Methodism in America — Summerfield arrives at New-York — eloquent 
 speech — stationed at New- York — speech— unprecedented popularity — 
 addresses children — letters — newspaper notices — immense audiences at 
 Washington — preaches in front of the capitol — affection of his friends — 
 
 affecting sermon ISl 
 
 SECTION XII. 
 
 Ordained Deacon — violent illness — dictates a testamentary paper — recovers 
 slowly — public anxiety — letters — episcopal certificate to travel — visits 
 
 New-Jersey— created Master of Arts — letter 208 
 
 SECTION XIII. 
 
 Sails for Prance — interesting letters from Marseilles. ..." 226 
 SECTION XIV. 
 
 Writes to the Young Men's Missionary Society — Paris — speech at the meet- 
 ing of the Protestant Bible Society of Prance — reply of Mons. Billings — 
 
 letters 262 
 
 SECTION XV. 
 
 Arrives in England — Fairfield — preaches at Liverpool — letters — attends the 
 conference at Sheffield — visits many other places — his health but httle im- 
 proved — letters. 275 
 
 SECTION XVL 
 
 Returns to America — attends the Baltimore conference — ordained an Elder 
 — appointed a missionary within the bounds of Baltimore conference — 
 extracts from diary — mission to the Wyandott Indians — at Baltimore in 
 
 extreme debility 292 
 
 SECTION XVII. 
 
 Extracts from diary — letters — returns to New- York — last illness — death-bed 
 expressions — dies in the Lord — public sympathy — funeral — monumental 
 
 inscriptions 310 
 
 SECTION xvin. 
 
 General concluding observations, 337 
 
illiiiiillH