FROM THE LIBRARY OF REV. LOUIS FITZGERALD BENSON. D. D. BEQUEATHED BY HIM TO THE LIBRARY OF PRINCETON THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY Pection ^Yl^ 1 THE L E T T E 11 S OF THE REV. JOHN NEWTOI. LATE PASTOR OF THE UNITED PARISHES OF ST. MARY WOOLNOTH AND ST. MARY WOOL- CIIURCII HAW, LOMBARD STREET, LONDON. CONTAINING, AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE, &C., LETTERS ON RELIGIOUS SUBJECTS, ORIGINALLY PUB- LISHED UNDER THE SIGNATURES OF " OMICRON" AND " VIGIL," AND CARDIPHONIA, OR THE UTTERANCE OF THE HEART. TO WHICH ARE PREFIXED, MEMOIRS OF HIS LIFE, &c BY THE REV. RICHARD CECIL, A.M. COMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME. N E W - Y O R K : ROBERT CARTER, 58 CANAL-STREET. PITTSBURG :— 56 MARKET-STREET. 1845. , I CONTENTS. MEMOIRS OF THE REV. JOHN NEW- TON. Pa^c. Prt'fjiCK MfiniiiriJ, &.c Rtvifw nl his chnmcter . Kt'rnurks in fiiiiiiliar c*tnvcrsntii)n tiuiieral Ubs»'i vulions AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE, &c. LET. I— Introdurtory Observations . . .80 II.— Occuinn" «s in tally Life . . .HI III.— Juii.ncy lo Krnt. viNajK; to Venice, &c. £3 IV.— Vnyatie n> Madiira, Kniiy on lioaid a Giiineania, , a d voyage to Africa . H7 v.— Flanlslii|»si ei.dured in Aliica . . . H;t VI - Enl.irgfiiieni in .Afiica . . .92 VII.— VoAH^e irniu Cape Lopez to England, &c 94 VIIL— Dan;;er, &c., in the Voyage from Cape Lupez ... 9rt IX — F.venis in Ireland, and arrival in England 98 X -Voyagelo Af.i' a lOU XI.— Voyage to Antigua, Return to England, and Marriage ]fl2 XII.— Another Vi.> age to Afiica . . . 1(<5 XllI— l.a I Voyage to Afii. a. &c. . . . 107 XiV.— Conclusion of the iN'arraiive . . .109 LETTERS ON RELIGIOUS SUBJECTS. LET. I.— On Trust in God II.— To a Sludfiit of I-ivinity III.— On 'Z Cor. v Id, and R..m. xiv IV.— On Family wmsliip . v.— Oil the ditiic. lilies atten th veited . VIII.— On the Inward Witn.ss . IX. — On Kit-eiion ai\d I'.-rsi verance X.— On Grac \n tlx- Bhide XI.— On G. a e n ih.- Ear XII —On Grace ui ilu- Full Com XllI— On Hi aring S'liiKins XiV -O.i Temptation . . . XV.— .A ri.in of a Christian Librari- XVI.— On thi-lneffica \ of Knowhdge XVII. -O.i a lleii.-v. r's Frames XVliI.~Oa Social Prayer. lJ-2 114 12 . 116 l;H Ministry I'iO i< Uncon 124 127 • 129 134 i;iii . 138 ni 14ti 147 N9 152 Page. XIX.— On (^ontrover.'iv 154 XX.— On ('oii(oriii;iy 10 the World . . I5<) XXI. On Spiiiliial Mliniln»-«3 . . .158 XXII. -On a ,tate . IHi XXXV.-t)n Phil. IV. 8 IH8 XXXVI.— To a Friend -ary to the Enjoyment of Lite .... 194 XXXIX.-A Won! in r?.'a.-...n . . . .196 XL.-ToFrof.ss..is in Tiade . . . .198 XLL— On the .Mini^liy of Angels . . .199 CARDIPHONIA. Twenty six Li tiers to a Nnbhinan highi Leli«isio the Htv. .Mr. S Eleven Lettiis 10 Mr B , &c. F.air Leiieis to the K. v. Mr. R A Letter t.. Ihe Rev. >.r. O Seven Letteis .0 the hev Mr. P Three Letters to ,\,rs. G Two Letters to Ml^s 1- Four Letti IS to the Rev. Dr. Seven Lellers to .Mrs F.iii Leiieis... Mis. T Five LiMieis to Mr. . Eight Letters to me Rev. Mr. F..iir L.-uers t.i Mrs P S.x L'tl.fsioilii- R,.v. M. 15 \,ne L ttirs to il e Ri v.. Mr. R Tliree Liuieis to Miss Th . Seven Lei ers to F.ve Letiers to Mr C Kiutii Letters to Mrs. Five Leil. rs to M ss I Three Lelleis to Ms II Tvxti Letiers to Mis.- P Fourteen Lelte.s to llie Rev. Mr. B- 202 243 2«i3 272 2,6 278 284 289 291 294 304 3(i!> 3 5 3.'2 •.HI 3:13 :{40 343 347 W^-Z 31.3 .3.8 3-,l 373 MEMOIRS OF THE REV. JOHN NEWTON. PREFACE. The Memoirs of the Hon. and Rev. William Bromley Cadogan, and those of John Bacon, Esq. were written at the particular re- quest of their relations. But in publishing these of the late Rev. John Newton, I profess myself a volunteer ; and my motives were the following : — When I perceived my venerable friend bending un- der a weight of years, and considered how soon, from the very course of nature, the world must lose so valuable an instructor and example ; when I reflected how common it is for hasty and inaccu- rate accounts of extraordinary characters to be obtruded on the pub- lic by venal writers, whenever more authentic documents are want- ing ; above all, when I considered how striking a display such a life affords of the nature of true religion, of the power of divine grace, of the mysterious but all-wise course of divine providence, and of the encouragement afforded for our dependence upon that providence in the most trying circumstances ; I say, on these ac- counts I felt, that the leading features of such a character should not be neglected, whilst it was easy to authenticate them correctly. Besides which, I have observed a want of books of a certain class for young people ; and have often been inquired of by Christian pa- rents for publications that might amuse their families, and yet tend to promote their best interests. The number, however, of this kind which I have seen, and that appeared unexceptionable, is but small : For, as the characters and sentiments of some men become moral blights in society, men whose mouths seldom open but, like that of sepulchres, they discover the putridity they contain, and infect more 6 vi PREFACE. or less whoever ventures within their baneful influence ; so the re- formed subject of these JNIemoirs was happily a remarkable instance of the reverse. The change that took place in his heart, after such a course of profligacy, affords a convincing demonstration of the truth and force of Christianity. Instead of proceeding as a blight in society, he became a blessing ; his future course was a striking example of the beneficial effects of the Gospel ; and that, not only from the pul- pit and by his pen, but also by his conversation in the large circle of his acquaintance, of which there is, yet living, a multitude of witnesses. Impressed, therefore, with the advantages which I conceived would result from the publication of these Memoirs, I communicated my design some years ago to Mr. N. Whatever tended to promote that cause in which his heart had been long engaged, I was sure would not fail to obtain his concurrence. He accordingly promised to afford whatever materials might be necessary, beyond those which his printed Narrative contained. He promised also to read over and revise whatever was added from my own observation ; and he soon after brought me an Account in writing, containing every thino- memorable which he recollected before the commencement of his Narrative. I shall, therefore, detain the reader no longer than to assure him, that the whole of the following Memoirs (except what relates to Mr. N.'s character) was submitted to him in MS* while he was capable of correcting it, and received his sanction. MEMOIRS, TuEs^ Memoirs seem naturally to commence with the Account mentioned in the Preface, and which I here transcribe ; — " I was born in London, the '^Itli July, 17'25, old style. My parents, though not wealthy, were respectable. My father was many years master of a ship in the Mediterranean trade. In the year ITI.S he went Governor of Vork Fort, iu Hudson's Bay, where he died in the year I750. " My mother was a Dissenter, a pious woman, and a member of the late Dr. Jenninoj's church. She was of a weak, consumptive habit, and loved retirement; and as I was her only child, she made it the chief business and pleasure of her life to instruct me, and brino; me up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. I have been told, that from my birth she had, in her mind, devoted me to the minis- try ; and that, had she lived till I was of a proper age, I was to havt been sent to St. Andrews, in Scotland, to be educated. But the Lord had appointed other- wise. My mother died before I was seven years of age. " I was rather of a sedentary turn, not active and playful, as boys commonly are, but seemed as willing to learn as my mother was to teach me. I had some ca- pacity, and a retentive memory. When I was four years old, I could read (hard names excepted) as well as I can now ; and could likewise repeat the answers to the questions in the Assembly's Shorter Catechism, with the proofs; and all Dr. VVatts's smaller Catechisms, and his Children's Hymns. " When my father returned from sea, after my mother's death, he married again. My new mother was the daughter of a substantial grazier at Aveley in Essex. She seemed willing to adopt and bring me up; but, after two or three years, she had a son of her own, who engrossed the old gentleman's notice. My father was a very sensible and a moral man, as the world rates nwrality, but neither he nor my step-mother were under the impressions of religion; I was, therefore, much left to myself, to mingle with idle and wicked boys, and soon learnt their ways. " 1 never was at school hut about two years (from my eighth to my tenth year :) it was a boarding-school at Stratford in Essex. Though my father left me much to run about the streets, yet, when under his eye, he kept me at a great distance. I am persuaded he loved me, but he seemed not willing that I should know it. I was with him in a state of fear and bondage. His sternness, together with the severity of my schoolmaster, broke and overawed my spirit, and almost made me a dolt ; so that part of the two years I was at school, instead of making progress, I nearly forgot all my good mother had taught me. " The day I was eleven years old, I went on board my father's ship in Long- reach. I made five voyages with him to the Mediterranean. In the course of the last voyage, he left me some months at Alicant in Spain, with a merchant, a particular friend of his, with whom I might have done well, if I had behaved well. But by this time my sinful propensities had gathered strength by habit: I was very wicked, and therefore very foolish; and, being my own enemy, I seemed determined that nobody should be my friend. " My father left the sea in the year 1742. I made one voyage afterwards to 7 8 MEMOIRS OF THE REV. JOHN NEWTOM. Venice before the mast ; and soon after my return, was impressed on board the Harwich. Then began my awfully mad career, as recorded in the Narrative ; to which, and to the Letters to a wife, I must refer you for any farther dates and incidents. 1 am truly yours, " JOHN NEWTON. "Dec. 19, 1795." A few articles may be added to this account from the Narrative, where we find, that his pious mother " stored his memory with whole chapters, and smaller portions of Scripture, catechisms, hymns, and poems ; and often commended him with prayers and tears to God :" also, that in his sixth year he began to learn Latin, though the intended plan of his education was soon broken ; and that he lost this valuable parent, July J], 17'32. We also find, that, after his father's second marriage, he was sent to the school above mentioned ; and in the last of the two years he spent there, a new usher came, who, observing and suiting his temper, he prosecuted Latin with great eagerness, and before he was ten years old he had reached and maintained the first post in the second class, which, in that school, was Tully and Virgil. But by being pushed forward too fast, and not properly grounded (a method too com- mon in inferior schools,) he soon lost all he had learned. In the next and most remarkable period of Mr. N.'s life, we must be conducted by the Narrative above mentioned. It has been observed, that at eleven years of age he was taken by his father to sea. His father was a man of remarkably good "sense, and great knowledge of the world; he took much care of his son's morals, but could not supply a mother's part. The father had been educated at a Jesuits' college, near Seville in Spain, and had an air of such distance and severity in his carriage as discouraged his son, who always was in fear when before him, and which deprived him of that influence he might otherwise have had. From this time to the year 1742, Mr. N. made several voyages, but at consi- derable intervals: these intervals were chiefly spent in the country, excepting a few months in his fifteenth year, when he was placed, with a very advantageous prospect, at Alicant, already mentioned.' About this period of his life, with a temper and conduct exceedingly various, he was often disturbed with religious convictions ; and being from a child fond of reading, he met with Bennet's "Christian Oratory:" and though he under- stood little of it, the course of life it recommended, appeared very desirable. He therefore began to pray, to read the Scriptures, to keep a diary, and thought him- self religious ; but soon became weary of it, and gave it up. He then learned to curse and to blaspheme, and was exceedingly wicked when out of the view of his parents, though at so early a period. Upon his being thrown from a horse near a dangerous hedge-row, newly cut, his conscience suggested to him the dreadful consequences of appearing in such a state before God. This put him, though but for a time, upon breaking off" his profane practices ; but the consequence of these struggles between sin and con- science was, that on every relapse he sunk into still greater depths of wickedness. He was roused again by the loss of a companion, who hnd agreed to go with him one Sunday on board a man-of-war. Mr. N. providentially coming too late, the boat had gone without him, and was overset, by which his companion and several others were drowned. He was exceedingly affected at the funeral of this com- panion, to think, that by the delay of a few minutes (which at the time occa- sioned much anger) his life had been preserved : but this also was soon forgotten. The perusal of the '' Family Instructor" produced another temporary reforma- tion. In short, he took up and laid aside a religious profession three or four dif- ferent times before he was sixteen years of age. " All this while," says he, " my heart was insincere; I often saw the necessity of religion, as a means of escaping hell, but I loved sin, and was unwilling to for MEMOIRS OF TIIK REV. JOHN NEWTON. 9 Bake it. I wan so strani^cly Miiul and stupid, that sonirtimrs, ulirn I have h«rn determined upon things which I kiuw wrre sinful, I couhl not ^o on (jui«tl> till I h«d lirst despatrlu'd my ordinary task of prayer, in which I have ^rudj^ed every moment of the time; when this was finisju'd, my conscience was in some measure paeitied, and 1 could rush into folly with little remorse." Hut his last reform was the most remarkahit'. "Of this period," says he, " at least of some j)art of it, I may say in the a|)ostle's words, ' After the strictest sect of our reli|j;ion, I lived a Pharisee.' I did every thinj; that mi^ht be expected from a person entirely ij:jnorant of (Jod's rip;hteousness, and desirous to establish his own. I spent the i;reatest part of every day in reading; the Scriptures, and in nu'ditation and prayer. I fasted often : I even abstained from all animal food for three months. I would hardly answer a question, for fear of speaking an idle word. I seemed to bemoan my former miscarria»j;es very earnestly, and sometimes >vith tears: in short, I became an ascetie, and endeavoured, as far as my situation Aould permit, to renounce society, that I mif^ht avoid temptation." This reformation, it seems, continued for more tlian two years. " But," he •idds, " it was a poor religion ; it left me in many respects under the power of sin; and, so far as it prevailed, only tended to make me gloomy, stupid, unso- ciable, and useless." That it was a poor religion, and quite unlike that which he afterwards possessed, will appear from what immediately follows: for had it been taken up upon more scriptural ground, and been attended with that internal evidence and satisfaction, which true religion only brings, he could not so soon have fallen a dupe to such a writer as Shaftesbury. It was at a petty shop at Middleburgh, in Holland, that he first met with a volume of the Characteristics. The declamation, called by his Lordship a Rhapsody, suited the romantic turn of his mind. Unaware of its ten- dency, he imagined he had found a valuable guide. This book was alwavs in his hand, till he could nearly repeat the Rhapsody. Though it produced no immediate etlect, it operated like a slow poison, and prepared the way for all that followed. About the year 17 l'^, having lately come from a voyage, his father, not intend- ing to return to sea, was contriving for Mr. N.'s settlement in the world. But to settle a yctuth who had no spirit for business, who knew but little of men or things, who was of a romantic turn — a medley, as he expressed it, of religion, philosophy, and indolence, and quite averse to order — must prove a great dit!iculty. At length a merchant in Liverpool, an intimate friend of the father, and after- wards a singular friend to the son, offered to send liim for some years to Jamaica, and undertook the charge of his future w elfare. This was consented to, and pre- paration made for the voyage, which w^n.s to be prosecuted the following week. In the mean time, he was sent by his father, on some business, to a place a few lAiles beyond Maidstone in Kent. But the journey, which was designed to last but three or four days, gave such a turn to his mind as roused him from his habi- tual indolence, and produced a series of important and interesting occurrences. A few days before this intended journey, he received an invitation to visit some distant relations in Kent. They were particular friends of his mother, w ho died at their house; but a coolness having taken place upon his father's second mar- riage, ail intercourse between them had ceased. As his road lay w^ithin half a mile of the house, and he obtained his father's leave to call on them, he went thither, and met with the kindest reception from these friends. They had two daughters : it seems the elder had been intended, by both the mothers, for his future wife. Almost at the first sight of this girl, then under fourteen years of age, he was impressed with such an affection for her, as appears to have equalled all that the wTiters of romance have imagined. " I soon lost," says he, " all sense of religion, and became deaf to the remon- strance of conscience and prudence, but my regard for her was alwavs the same ; and I may, perhaps, venture to say, that none of the scenes of misery and wick- edness I afterwards experienced, ever banished her a single hour together trom, toy waking thoughts for the seven following years. B 10 MEMOIRS OF THE REV. JOHN NEWTON. His heart beins; now riveted to a particular object, every thing with which he was concerned appeared in a new lif^ht. He could not now bear the thouglit of living at such a distance as Jamaica, for four or five years, and therefore deter- mined not to go thither. He dared not communicate with his father on this point, but, instead of three days, he staid three weeks in Kent, till the ship had sailed, and then he returned to London. His father, though highly displeased, became reconciled, and in a little time he sailed with a friend of his father's to Venice. In this voyage, being a common sailor, and exposed to the company of his com- rades, he began to rtdax from the sobriety which he had preserved, in some de- ,gree, for more than two years. Sometimes, pierced with convictions, he made a few faint elforts, as formerly, to stop; and though not yet absolutely profligate, he was making large strides towards a total apostacy from God. At length he received a remarkable check by a dream, which made a very strong, though not abiding impression upon his mind. I shall relate this dream in his own words, referring to the Narrative those who wish to know his opinion of dreams, and his application of this one in particular to his own circumstances: — " The scene presented to my imagination w^as the harbour of Venice, where we had lately been. I thought it was night, and my watch upon the deck ; and that, as I was walking to and fro by myself, a person came to me (I do not re- member from whence) and brought me a ring, with an express charge to keep it carefully ; assuring me, that while I preserved that ring I should be happy and successful : but, if I lost or parted with it, I must expect nothing but trouble and misery. I accepted the present ;ind the terms willingly, not in the least doubting my own care to preserve it, and highly satisfied to have my happiness in my own keeping. I was engaged in these thoughts, when a second person came to me, and, observing the ring on my finger, took occasion to ask me some questions concerning it. I readily told him its virtues; and his answer expressed a sur- prise at my weakness, in expecting such effects from a ring. I think he reasoned with me some time upon the impossibility of the thing; and at length urged me, in direct terms, to throw it away. At first I was shocked at the proposal ; but his insinuations prevailed, I began to reason and doubt, and at last plucked it oft' my finger, and dropped it over the ship's side into the water, which it had no sooner touched than I saw, at the same instant, a terrible fire burst out from a range of mountains (a part of the Alps.) which appeared at some distance behind the city of Venice. I saw the hills as distinct as if awake, and that they were all in flames. I perceived, too late, my folly; and my tempter with an air of insult in- formed me, that all the mercy God had in reserve for me was comprised in that ring, which I had wilfully thrown away. I understood, that I must now go with him to the burning mountains, and that all the flames I saw were kindled on my account. I trembled, and was in a great agony ; so that it was surprising I did not then awake : but my dream continued, and when I thought myself upon the point of a constrained departure, and stood self-condemned, without plea or hope, suddenly either a third person, or the same w^ho brought the ring at first, (I am not certain which,) came to me, and demanded the cause of my grief I told him the plain case, confessing that I had ruined myself wilfully, and deserved no pity. He blamed my rashness, and asked if I should be wiser, supposing I had my ring again. I could hardly answer to this, for I thought it was gone beyond recal. I believe, indeed, I had not time to answer, before I saw this unexpected friend go down under the water, just in the spot where I had dropped it, and he soon re- turned, bringing the ring with him : the moment he came on board, the flames in the mountains were extinguished, and my seducer left me. Then was * the prey taken from the hand of the mighty, and the lawful captive delivered.' My fears were at an end, and with joy and gratitude I approached my kind djjliverer to receive the ring again ; but he refused to return it, and spoke to this effect: ''If you should be intrusted with this ring again, you would very soon bring your- ■self into the same distress ; you are not able to keep it, but I will preserve it foi MKMonix OK Tin: ui:v. joiin niiwton. II you, iiiul wht-ncvfr it is uoidlul will jjroducc it in your htlcilf,' Upon liiJM I awoke, in a state of nuiid not to be (it scribed : I could liuidly cut, or Kle«-|i, or transact my necessary business for two or three days; but tlie impression noon wore ort* and in a little time I totally forgot it; and I think it liardly occuired to my mind again till several years afterwards." Nothing remarkable happened in the following part of that voyaj^e. Mr. N. returned home in I)ecen>l)er, \1 Vi, and, repeating his visit to Kent, protructrd his stay in the same imprudent nnmner he had done before. 'J'his so disappoiiit«'d his father's designs for his interest, as almost induced him to disown liissou. Jie- fore any thing suitable ollered again, this thoughtless son, unmindful of the con- sequence of appearing in a check shirt, was n)arked by a lieutenant of the Har- wich man-of-war, who immediately imprt'ssed and carried him on board a ten- der This was at a critical juncture, as the French lleets were liovering upon our coast : so that his father was incapable of procuring his release. A few days after, he was sent on board the Harwich at the Nore. Here a new scene of life was presented, and for about a month much hardship endured. As a war was daily expected, his father was willing he should remain in the navy, and procu- red him a recommendation to the captain, who sent him upon the (piurter-deck as a midshipman. He might now have had ease and respect, liad it not been for his unsettled mind and indilferent behaviour. The companions he met with here completed the ruin of his principles; though he aflfected to talk of virtue, and preserved some decency, yet his delight and habitual practice was wickedness. His pilncipal companion was a person of talents and observation, an expert and plausible inhdel, whose zeal was equal to his address. " I have been told," says Mr. N., " tliat afterwards he was overtaken in a voyage from Lisbon in a violent storm ; the vessel and people escaped, but a great sea broke on board, and swept him into eternity." Being fond of this man's company, Mr. N. aimed to discover what smattering of reading he had : his companion, observing that Mr. N. had not lost all the restraints of conscience, at first spoke in favour of religion ; and having gained Mr. N.'s confidence, and perceiving his attatchment to the Characteristics, he soon convinced his pupil that he had never understood that book. By objections and arguments Mr. N.'s depraved heart was soon gained. He plunged into infidelity with all his spirit; and, like an unwary sailor, who y was little less than any other person would have found in the accomplishment of the scheme he had most at heart. Such a fish hastily broiled, or rather half burnt, without sauce, salt, or bread, has afforded me a delicious meal. If I caught none, I might, if I could, sleep away my hunger till the next return of slack-water, and then try again. " Nor did I suffer less from the inclemency of the weather, and the want of clothes. The rainy season was now advancing ; my whole suit was a shirt, a pair of trowsers, a cotton handkerchief instead of a cap, and a cotton cloth about two yards long, to s\ipply the want of upper garments : and thus accoutred, I have been exposed for twenty, thirty, perhaps near forty hours together, in incessant rains^ accompanied with strong gales of wind, without the leav^t shelter, when my master was on bhore. 1 ieel to this day some faint returns of the violent pains I then con* 16 MEMOIRS OF THE REV. JOHN NEWTON. Iracted. The excessive cold and wet I endured in that voyage, and so soon after I had recovered from a long sickness, quite hroke my constitution and my spirits ; the latter were soon restored, but the effects of the former still remain with me, as a needful memento of the service and the wag»isof sin. In about two months they returned, and the rest of the time Mr. N. spent with his master was chiefly at the Plantanes, and under the same regimen as has been mentioned. His heart was now bowed down, but not at all to a whole- some repentance. While his spirits sunk, the language of the prodigal was far from him : destitute of resolution, and almost all reflection, he had lost the fierce- ness which fired him when on board the Harwich, and rendered him capable of the most desperate attempts ; but he was no farther changed than a tiger tamed by hunger. However strange it may appear, he attests it as a truth, that though destitute both of food and clothing, and depressed beyond common wretchedness, he could sometimes collect his mind to mathematical studies. Having bought Barrow's Euclid at Plymouth, and it being the only volume he brought on shore, he used to take it to remote corners of the island, and draw his diagrams with a long stick upon the sand. "Thus," says he, "I often beguiled my sorrows, and almost forgot my feelings ; and thus without any other assistance, I made my- self in a good measure master of the first six books of Euclid." " With my staff I passed this Jordan, and now I am become two bands." These w^ords of Jacob might well affect Mr. N. when remembering the days ia ■which he was busied in planting some lime or lemon trees. The plants he put into the ground were no higher than a young gooseberry bush. His master and mistress, in passing the place, stopped a w hile to look at him ; at length his master said, " Who knows but, by the time these trees grow up and bear, you may go home to England, obtain the command of a ship, and return to reap the fruits of your labours ? V\^e see strange things sometimes happen." " This," says Mr. Newton, " as he intended it, was a cutting sarcasm. I be- lieve he thought it full as probable that I should live to be king of Poland ; yet it proved a prediction, and they (one of them at least,) lived to see me return from England, in the capacity he had mentioned, and pluck some of the first limes from those very trees. How can I proceed in my relation, till I raise a monument to the Divine goodness, by comparing the circumstances in which the Lord has since placed me w^ith what I was in at that time! Had you seen me, sir, then go so pensive and solitary in the dead of night to wash my one shirt upon the rocks, and afterwards put it on wet, that it might dry upon my back, while I slept — had you seen me so poor a figure, that when a ship's boat came to the island, shame often constrained me to hide myself in the woods, from the sight of strangers ; especially, had you known that my conduct, principles, and heart, were still darker than my outward condition — how little would you have imagined, that one w^ho so fully answered to the (rTu>.iTo. xx. /u.;ht: so wonderfully does the Lord proportion the discoveries of sin and prace ; for he knows our frame, and that if he were to put forth the p;reatness of his power, a poor sinner would be instantly overwhelmed, and cruslied as a moth. But to return: when I saw beyond all probability, that tliere was still hope of respite, and heard about six in the evening that the ship was freed from w ater, there arose a gleam of liope. I thought I saw the hand of God displayed in our favour. I began to pray : I could not utter the prayer of faith : I could not draw near to a reconciled God and call him Father : my prayer was like the cry of the ravens, which yet the Lord does not disdain to hear. I now began to think of that Jesus whom I had bo often derided : I recollected the particulars of his life and of his death ; a death for sins not his own, but, as I remembered, for the sake of those, who, in their distress, should put their trust in him. And now I chiefly wanted evidence. The comfortless principles of infidelity were deeply riveted, and I rather wished than believed these things were real facts. You will please to observe, that I collect the strain of the reasonings and exercises of ray mind in one view ; but I do not say that all this passed at one time. The great question now was, how to obtain faith .'' I speak not of an appropriating faith (of which I then knew neither the nature nor necessity,) but how I should gain an assurance that the Scriptures v/ere of divine inspiration, and a sufficient warrant for the exercise of trust and hope in God. " One of the first helps I received, (in consequence of a determination to ex- amine the New Testament carefully,) was from Luke xi. L3. I had been sensi- ble, that to profess faith in Jesus Christ, when, in reality, I did not believe his history, was no better than a mockery of the heart-searching God ; but here I found a Spirit spoken of, which was to be communicated to those who ask it. Upon this I reasoned thus : If this book be true, the promise in this passage must be true likewise : I have need of that very Spirit, by which the whole was written, in order to understand it aright. He has engaged here to give that Spirit to those who ask : I must therefore pray for it, and if it be of God he will make good his own word. My purposes were strengthened by John vii. 17. I concluded from thence, that though I could not say from my heart, that I be- lieved the Gospel, yet I would, for the present, take it for granted ; and that by studying it in this light, I should be more and more confirmed in it. "If what I am writing could be perused by our modern infidels, they would say, (for I too well know their manner,) that I was very desirous to persuade myself into this opinion. I confess I was, and so would they be, if the Lord should show them, as he was pleased to show me at that time, the absolute ne- cessity of some expedient to interpose between a righteous God and a sinful soul: upon the Gospel scheme I saw at least a peradventure of hope, but on every other side I was surrounded with black, unfathomable despair." The wind being now moderate, and the ship drawing nearer to its port, the ship's company began to recover from their consternation, though greatly alarmed by their circumstances. They found, that the water having floated their move- ables in the hold, all the casks of provisions had been beaten to pieces by the violent motion of the ship. On the other hand, their live stock had been w^ashea overboard, in the storm. In short, all the provisions they saved, except the fish 22 MEMOIRS OF THE REV. JOHN NEWTON. ately caught on the banks for amusement, and a little of the pulse kind, which used to be given to the ho2;s, would have supported them but a week, and that at a scanty allowance. The sails, too, were mostly blown away, so that they ad- vanced but slowly even while the wind was fair. They imagined they were about a hundred leagues from land, but were in reality much farther. Mr. N.'s leisure Was chiefly employed in reading, meditation on the Scriptures, and prayer for mercy and instruction. Things continued thus for about four or five days, when they were awakened one morning by the joyful shouts of the watch upon deck, proclaiming the sight of land, with which they were ail foon raised. The dawning was uncommonly beautiful, and the light, just sufficient to discover distant objects, presented what seemed a mountainous coast, about twenty miles ofi', with two or three small islands ; the whole appeared to be the north-west extremity of Ireland, for which they were steering. They sincerely congratulated each other, having no doubt, that, if the wind continued, they should be in safety and plenty the next day. Their brandy, which was reduced to a little more than a pint, was, by the captain's orders, distributed among them ; who added, " \Ve shall soon have brandy enough." They likewise ate up the residue of their bread, and were in the condition of men suddenly reprieved from death. But while their hopes were thus excited, the mate sunk their spirits by say- ing, in a graver tone, that ''he wished it might prove land at last." If one of the common sailors had first said so, the rest would probably have beaten him. The expression, however, brought on warm debates, whether it was land or not; but the case was soon decided ; for one of their fancied islands began to grow red from the approach of the sun. In a word, their land was nothing but clouds ; and in half an hour more the whole appearance was dissipated. Still, however, they cherished hope from the wind continuing fair ; but of this hope they were soon deprived. That very day, their fair wind subsided into a calm, and the next morning the gale sprung up from the south-east, directly against them, and continued so for more than a fortnight afterwards. At this time the ship was so wrecked, that they were obliged to keep the wind always on the broken side, except when the weather was quite moderate ; and were thus driven still farther from their port in the north of Ireland, as far as the Lewis or western isles of Scotland. Their station now was such as deprived them of any hope of relief from other vessels. " It may indeed be questioned," says Mr. N., "whether our ship was not the very first tliat had been in that part of the ocean, at the same time of the year." Provisions now began to fall short, the half of a salted cod was a day's subsist- ence for twelve people : they had no stronger liquor than water, no bread, hardly any clothes, and very cold weather. They had also incessant labour at the pumps, to keep the ship above water. Much labour and little food wasted them fast, and one man died under the hardship. Yet their sufferings were light when compared with their fears. Their bare allowance could continue but little longer, and a dreadful prospect appeared of their being either starved to death, or reduced to feed upon one another. At this time Mr. N. had a farther trouble, peculiar to himself. The captain, whose temper was quite soured by distress, was hourly reproaching him as the sole cause of the calamity, and was confident, that his being thrown overboard would be the only means of preserving them. The captain, indeed, did not in- tend to make the experiment, but " the continued repetition of this in my ears," says Mr. X., '• gave me much uneasiness; especially as my conscience seconded his words : I thought it very probable, that all that had befallen us was on my account — that I was at last found out by the powerful hand of God — and con- demned in my own breast." While, however, they were thus proceeding, at the time when they were ready to give up all for lost, and despair appeared in every countenance, thej began to conceive hope, from the wind's shifting to the desired point, so as lezt MKMOIRS OV Tin: KKV. JOHN NKW TON. 23 to suit th;it broktn part of the sliip, wliicli must hv k«'j)t out of tin* watrr, and so gently to blow as tluir ft'w roiniii?uu^ sails could bear. And thus it coutiuurd, at un uusottU'd tinu' of the year, till they were once iiiort! called up to see land, and "^vhielj was really sueh. They saw the island of Tory, and the lu'xt day an- <.horeeen therc! two hours, the wind, which seemed to have been providentially r» s(raint:(l till they were in a place of safety, began to blow with great violenc*' ; so that, if they had continued at sea that night, they must, in all human estimation, have gone to the bottom ! " About this time," says Mr. N., " I began to know that there is a (iod, who hears and answers prayer." Mr. N.'s history is now brought down to the time of his arrival in Ireland, in the year 1748; and the progress he had liitherto made in religion will be best re- lated in his own words. I shall, therefore, make a longer extract than usual, because it is important to trace the operation of real religion in the heart. Speak- ing of the ship in which he lately sailed, he says, " There were no persons on board to whom I could open myself with freedom, concerning the state of my goul ; none from whom I could ask advice. As to books, I had a New Testa- ment, Stanhope, already mentioned, and a volume of Bishop Beveridge's Ser- mons, one of which, upon our Lord's passion, affected me much. In perusing the New Testament, I was struck with several passages, particularly that of the fig-tree, Luke xiii. the case of St. Paul, 1 Tim. i. but particularly that of the pro- digal, Luke XV. I thought that had never been so nearly exemplified as by my- self. And then the goodness of the father in receiving, nay, in running to meet such a son, and this intended only to illustrate the Lord's goodness to returning sinners ! Such reflections gaining upon me, I continued much in prayer ; I saw that the Lord had interposed so far to save me, and I hoped he would do more. Outward circumstances helped in this place to make me still more serious and earnest in crying to him, who alone could relieve me ; and sometimes I though I could be content to die even for want of food, so I might but die a believer. ** Thus far I was answered, that before we arrived in Ireland I had a satisfac- tory evidence, in my own mind, of the truth of the Gospel, as considered in itself, and of its exact suitableness to answer all my needs. I saw, that, by the way they were pointed out, God might declare, not his mercy only, but his jus- tice also, in the pardon of sin, on account of the obedience and sufferings of Jesus Christ. My judgment, at that time, embraced the sublime doctrine of ' God ma- nifest in the flesh, reconciling the world unto himself.' I had no idea of those systems, which allow the Saviour no higher honour than that of an upper ser- vant, or at the most a demi-god. I stood in need of an Almighty Saviour, and such a one I found described in the New Testament. Thus far the Lord had wrought a marvellous thing ; I was no longer an infidel ; I heartily renounced my former profaneness, and had taken up some right notions ; was seriously dis- posed, and sincerely touched with a sense of the undeserved mercy I had re- ceived, in being brought safe through so many dangers. I was sorry for my past mispent life, and proposed an immediate reformation. I was quite freed from the habit of swearing, which seemed to have been deeply rooted in me, as a second nature. Thus, to all appearance, I w^as a new man. "But though I cannot doubt that this change, so far as it prevailed, was wrought by the Spirit and power of God, yet still I was greatly deficient in many respects. I was in some degree affected with a sense of my enormous sins ; but I was little aware of the innate evils of my heart. I had no appre- hension of the spirituality and extent of the law of God ; the hidden life of a Christian, as it consists in communion with God by Jesus Christ ; a continual dependence on him for hourly supplies of wisdom, strength, and comfort, was a mystery of which I had as yet no knowledge. I acknowledged the Lord's mercy in pardoning what was past, but depended chiefly upon my own resolu 21 MEMOIRS OF THE REV. JOHN NEWTON. tion to do better for the time to come. I had no Christian friend or faithful minister to advise me, that my strenj^th was no more than my righteousness ; and though I soon began to inquire for serious books, yet, not having spiritua* discernment, I frequently made a wrong choice ; and I was not brought in the way of evangelical preaching or conversation, (except the few times when i heard but understood not,) for six years after this period. Those things the Lord was pleased to discover to me gradually. I learnt them here a little, and there a little, by my own painful experience, at a distance from the common means and ordinances, and in the midst of the same course of evil company, and bad examples, I had been conversant with for some time. " From this period I could no more make a mock of sin, or jest with holy things ; 1 no more questioned the truth of Scripture, or lost a sense of the re- bukes of conscience. Therefore I consider this as the beginning of my return to God, or rather of his return to me ; but I cannot consider myself to have been, a believer, (in the full sense of the word,) till a considerable time afterwards." While the ship was refitting at Lough Swilly, Mr. N. repaired to London- derry, where he soon recruited his health and strength. He was now a serious rofessor, went twice a day to the prayers at church, and determined to receive he sacrament the next opportunity. When the day came, he arose very early, was very earnest in his private devotions, and solemnly engaged himself to^the Lord ; not with a formal, but sincere surrender, and under a strong sense of the mercies lately received. Having, however, as yet but an imperfect knowledge of his own heart, and of the subtlety of Satan's temptations, he was afterwards- seduced to forget the vows of God that were upon him. Yet he felt a peace and satisfaction in the ordinance of that day, to which he had been hitherto an. utter stranger. The next day he went abroad with the mayor of the city, and some gentlemen, shooting ; climbing up a steep bank, and pulling his fowling-piece in a perpen- dicular direction after him, it went off so near his face as to destroy the corner of his hat. The remark he makes on this ought not to be omitted: " Thus, when we think ourselves in the greatest safety, we are no less exposed to dan- ger, than when all the elements seem conspiring to destroy us. The divine Providence, which is sufficient to deliver us in our utmost extremity, is equally necessary to our preservation in the most peaceful situation." During their stay in Ireland, Mr. N. wrote home. The vessel he was in had not been heard of for eighteen months, and was given up for lost. His father had no expectation of hearing that his son was alive, but received his letter a few days before he embarked from London to become governor of York Fort, in Hudson's Bay, where he died. He intended to take his son with him, had he returned to England in time. Mr. N. received two or three affectionate letters from his father ; and hoped, that in three years more he should have had the opportunity of asking his forgiveness, for the uneasiness his disobedienct nad occasioned ; but the ship that was to have brought his father home came without him. It appears he was seized with the cramp, when bathing, and was drowned before the ship arrived in the Bay. Before his father's departure from Eng- land, he had paid a visit in Kent, and gave his consent to the union that had been so long talked of. Mr. N. arrived at Liverpool the latter end of May I74S, about the same day that his father sailed from the Nore. He found, however, another father in the gentleman whose ship had brought him home. This friend received him with great tenderness, and the strongest assurances of assistance ; yet not stronger than he afterwards fulfilled: for to this instrument of God's goodness he felt he owed every thing. " Yet," as Mr. N. justly observes, " it would not have been in the power even of this friend to have served me effectually, if the Lord had not met me on my way home, as I have related. Till then, I was like the man pos- sessed with the legion. No arguments, no persuasion, no views of interest, no lemembrance of the past, nor regard to the future could have restrained m« MEMOIRS or THE REV. JOHN NEWTON. 25 nithin the bounds of common prudence; but now I was in some measure restored to my senses." This friend immediately ofl'ered Mr. N. the command of a ship, wliii(Ier»-d that hitherto he ha(! been unsctth'd and carekss , and therefore that Ik- liad f)etter make another voyage, and learn obedience and ac(juire farther <'Xj)eriencL' in business, before he ventured to undertake such a clKir«^e. Tlie nuite of the ves- sel in whicli he came liome was preferred to the command of a new ship, and Mr. N. en*?a«;ed to ^o in the station of mate with liim. There was something so peculiar in Mr. N.'s case, after tins extraordinary- deliverance, and because others in like circumstances might be tempted to de- spair, that I think it proper to make another extract from his Narrative, as such accounts cannot be well conveyed but in his own words. " We must not make the experience of others in all respects a rule to our- selves, nor our own a rule to others: yet these are common mistakes, and pro- ductive of many more. As to myself, every part of ray case has been extraordi- nary — I have hardly met a single instance resembling it. Few, very few, have been recovered from such a dreadful state ; and the few that have been thus fa- voured, have generally passed through the most severe convictions : and, after the Lord has given them peace, their future lives have been usually more zeal- ous, bright, and exemplary than common. Xow, as, on the one hand, my convictions were very moderate, and far below what might have been expected from the dreadful review I had to make ; so, on the other, my first beginnings in a re- ligious course were as faint as can be well imagined. I never knew that season alluded to, Jer. ii. 'Z ; Rev. ii. 4, usually called the time of the first love. Who would not expect to hear, that, after such a wonderful and unhoped-for deliver- ance as I had received, and after my eyes were in some measure enlightened to see things aright, I should immediately cleave to the Lord and his ways with full purpose of heart, and consult no more with flesh and blood ? But, alas ! it was I'ar otherwise with me : I had learned to pray : I set some value upon the word of God ; and was no longer a libertine ; but my soul still 'cleaved to the dust.' Soon after my departure from Liverpool, I began to intermit and grow slack in waiting upon the Lord : I grew vain and trifling in my conversation ; and though my heart smote me often, yet my armour was gone, and I declined fast : and by the time we arrived at Guinea, I seemed to have forgotten all the Lord's mercies, and my own engagements, and was, (profaneness excepted,) al- most as bad as before. The enemy prepared a train of temptations, and I be- came his easy prey ; for about a month he lulled me asleep in a course of evil, of which, a few months before, I could not have supposed myself any longer ca- pable. How much propriety is there in the apostle's advice, ' Take heed lest any of you be hardened through the deceitfulness of sin.' " In this voyage Mr. N.'s business, while upon the coast, was to sail in the long boat, from place to place, in order to purchase slaves. The ship, at this time, was at Sierra Leone, and he at the Plantanes, the scene of his former captivity, and where every thing he saw tended to remind him of his present ingratitude. He was now in easy circumstances, and courted by those who had once despised him. The lime-trees he had formerly planted, were growing tall and promised fruit, upon his expected return with a ship of his own. Unaffected, however, with these things, he needed another providential interposition to rouse him ; and accordingly he was visited with a violent fever, which broke the fatal chain, and once more brought him to himself. Alarmed at the prospect before him, he thought himself now summoned away. The dangers and deliverances through which he had passed — his earnest prayers in the time of trouble — his solemn vows before the Lord at his table — and his ungrateful returns for all his goodness — were present at once to his mind. He began then to wish that he had sunk in the ocean, when he first cried for mercy. For a short time he concluded that the door of hope was quite shut. Weak, and almost delirious, he arose from his bed D 26 MEMOIRS OF THE REV. JOHN NEWTON. crept to a retired part of the island, and here found a renewed liberty in prayer; daring to make no more resolves, he cast himself upon the Lord, to do with him as he should please. It does not appear that any thing new was presented to his mind, but that, in general, he was enabled to hope end believe in a crucified Saviour. After this, the burthen was removed from his conscience, and not only his peace, but his health was gradually restored, when he returned to the ship. And though subject to the efforts and conflicts of sin, dwelling in him, he was ever after delivered from the power and dominion of it. His leisure hours in this voyage were chiefly employed in acquiring Latin, which he had now almost forgotten. This desire took place from an imitation he had seen of one of Horace's Odes in a Magazine. In this attempt at one of the most difficult of the poets, he had no other help than an old English translation, with Castalio's Latin Bible. He had the edition in usum Delphini, and, by com- paring the odes with the interpretation, and tracing such words as he understood from place to place by the index, together with what assistance he could get from the Latin Bible, he thus, by dint of hard industry, made some progress. He not only understood the sense of many odes, and some of the epistles, but " I began," says he, " to relish the beauties of the composition ; acquired a spice of what Mr. Law calls, ' classical enthusiasm;' and, indeed, by this means I had Horace more ad unguem than some who are masters of the Latin tongue ; for my helps were so few, that I generally had the passage fixed in my memory be- fore I could fully understand its meaning." During the eight months they were employed upon the coast, Mr. N.'s busi- ness exposed him to innumerable dangers from burning suns, chilling dews, winds, rains, and thunder storms, in an open boat ; and on shore, from long journeys through the woods, and from the natives, who in many places are cruel, treacherous, and watching opportunities for mischief. Several boats, during this time, were cut off, several white men poisoned, and from his own boat he buried six or seven people, with fevers ; when going on shore, or re- turning, he was more than once overset by the violence of the surf, and brought to land half dead, as he could not swim. Among a number of such escapes, which remained upon his memory, the following will mark the singular providence that was over him : — On finishing their trade, and being about to sail to the West Indies, the only service Mr. N. had to perform in the boat, was to assist in bringing the wood and water from the shore. They were then at Rio Cestors. He used to go into the river, in the afternoon, with the sea-breeze, to procure his lading in the evening, in order to return on board in the morning with the land-wind. Se- veral of these little voyages he had made ; but the boat was grown old, and al- most unfit for use ; this service likewise was almost completed. One day, hav- ing dined on board, he was preparing to return to the river as formerly — he had taken leave of the captain — received his orders — was already in the boat — and just going to put off; in that instant the captain came up from the cabin, and called him on board again. Mr. N. went, expecting farther orders, but the cap- tain said, " he had taken it into his head," (as he phrased it,) that Mr. N. should remain that day in the ship, and accordingly ordered another man to go in his room. Mr. N. was surprised at this, as the boat had never been sent away without him before. He asked the captain the reason of his resolution, but none was assigned, except as above, that so he would have it. The boat therefore went without Mr. N., but returned no more : it sunk that night in the river ; and the person who supplied Mr. N.'s place was drowned ! Mr. N. was much struck when news of the event was received the next morning The captain himself, though quite a stranger to religion, even to the denying a particular providence, could not help being affected ; but declared, that he had DO other reason for countermanding Mr. N. at that time, but that it came sud- denly into his mind to detain him. MEMOIRS OF TIIK KKV. JolIN NKWTON. 27 A short time afltr he wus thus siirprisiji^ly pnst'rved, tliry sailt-d for Antif^na, and from thunre to Charleston, in South ("arolina. In that phico then* were many serious peoph' ; but, at this time, Mr. N. was little; eapahle of availing himsfjf of tlu'ir society, supposing; that all who attended puhlie worship wer»r ^ood Christians, ami that whatever came from tlur pul|)it must he very (»ood. He liad two or tiirei- opj)ortunilies, indeed, of hearinp; a minister of «'minent character and ^'\i\s, whom, thou^li struck with his manner, he did not rij^litly un(l«-rstand. Almost every dav, when business would perniit, he used to retire into the woods and fields, (beini; his favourite oratories,) and be<;an to taste the deli;;ht of com- munion with Cod, in the exercises of prayer and praise ; and yet so much in- consistency prevailed, that he frecjuently sj)ent the evening in vain and worthless company. His relish, indeed, for worldly diversions was much weakened ; and he was rather a sjxctator than a sharer in their pleasures ; but he did not as yet see the necessity of absolutely relinquishineginning a rule, which he was enabled to keep, ■f Mr. N. had had an unexpected call to London ; and, on his return, when within a few miles of Liver- pool, he mistook a marl-pit for a jwnd, and, in attempting to water his horse, both the horse and the rider plunged into it ovcrheatl He was afterwards toKl,~that, near that time, three persons had loet their lives by a. mistake of the same kind. MEMOIRS OF rilK KKV. JOHN NF.WTON. 29 on short' amonj; the natives. I have wandered thronph the woods, rrflrctinp; on the siiiojulur tjoodness of the Lord to me, in a place where, |)»*rhaps, there wa* not a person who knew me for some thousand miles round. Many a time, upon these oceasions, I have restored the heautiful lines of l*ropertius to the rij!;ht owner; lines full of blaspliemy and madness when addressed to a creature, but fVill of comfort and propriety in the mouth of a believer. Sic e^o doaertis possim bonft vivpre gylvis, Q.UO nulla huniano sit via trita jxide ; Tu niifii ruraruni rnjuit's, in iiocte vol artra Luinon, et in solis tu uiihi turba locis. PARAPHRASRD. In desert woods, with thee, my God, Whore human footsteps never trod, How happy could I be ! Thou my re[)osc from care, my light Amidst the darkness of the night, In solitude my company." In the course of this voyage, Mr. N. was wonderfully preserved through many unforeseen dangers. At one time there was a conspiracy among his own people to become pirates, and take possession of the ship. When the plot was nearly ripe, they watched only for opportunity : two of them were taken ill in one day ; one of them died. This suspended the affair, and opened a way to its discovery. The slaves on board frequently plotted insurrections, and were sometimes upon the very brink of one when it was disclosed. When at a place called Mana, near Cape Mount, Mr. N. intended to go on shore the next morn- ing to settle some business; but the surf of the sea ran so high, that he was afraid to attempt landing. He had often ventured at a worse time ; but then feeling a backwardness which he could not account for, the high surf furnished a pretext for indulging it: he therefore returned to the ship without doing any business. He afterwards found, that, on the day he intended to land, a scandalous and groundless charge had been laid against him, which greatly threatened his honour and interest, both in Africa and England, and w^ould perhaps have affected his life, had he landed. The person most concerned in this affair owed him about a hundred pounds, which he sent in a huff, and otherwise, perhaps, would not have paid it at all. Mr. N. heard no more of this accusation till the next voyage, and then it w^as publicly acknowledged to have been a malicious calumny, with- out the least shadow of a ground. But, as these things did not occur every day, Mr. N. prosecuted his Latin, being very regular in the management of his time. He allotted about eight hours for sleep and meals, eight hours for exercise and devotion, and eight hours to his books ; and thus, by diversifying his engagements, the whole day was agreeably filled up. From the coast he went to St. Christopher's, where he met with a great dis- appointment : for the letters, which he expected from Mrs. N., were by mistake forwarded to Antigua. Certain of her punctuality in writing, if alive, he con- cluded by not hearing from her, that she was surely dead. This fear deprived him of his appetite and rest, caused an incessant pain in his stomach, and, in the space of three weeks, he was near sinking under the weight of an imaginary stroke. " I felt," says he, " some severe symptoms of that mixture of pride and madness, commonly called a broken heart ; and, indeed, I wonder that this case is not more common. How often do the potsherds of the earth presume to contend with their Maker ! and what a wonder of mercy is it that they are not all broken ! This was a sharp lesson, but I hope it did me good ; and when I had thus suf- fered some weeks, I thought of sending a small vessel to Antigua. I did so, and she brought me several packets, which restored my health and peace, and gave 30 MEMOIRS OF THE REV JOHN NEWTON. me a strong contrast of the Lord's goodness to me, and of my unbelief and in- gratitude towards him." In August, 1753, Mr. N. returned to Liverpool : after that voyage, he con- tinued only six weeks at home, and, in that space, nothing very memorable occurred. We now follow Mr. N. in his third voyage to Guinea: it seems to be the shortest of any that he had made, and which is principally marked by an account of a young man, who had formerly been a midshipman, and his intimate com- panion on board the Harwich. This youth, at the time Mr. N. first knew him, was sober, but afterwards sadly infected with Mr. N.'s then libertine principles. They met at Liverpool, and renewed their former acquaintance : as their con- versation frequently turned upon religion, Mr. N. was very desirous to recover his companion, to whom he gave a plain account of the manner and reasons of his own change, and used every argument to induce him to relinquish his infi- delity. When pressed very close, his usual reply was, that Mr. I^ . was the first person who had given him an idea of his liberty, which naturally occasioned many mournful reflections in the mind of his present instructor. This person was going master to Guinea himself; but, meeting with a disappointment, Mr. N. offered to take him as a companion, with a view of assisting him in gaining future employment ; but, principally, that his arguments, example, and prayers, might be attended with good effect. But his companion was exceedingly pro- fane ; grew worse and worse ; and presented a lively, but distressing picture, continually before Mr. N.'s eyes, of what he himself had once been. Besides this, the man was not only deaf to remonstrance himself, but laboured to coun- teract Mr. N.'s influence upon others; his spirit and passions were likewise so exceedingly high, that it required all Mr. N.'s prudence and authority to hold him in any degree of restraint. At length Mr. N. had an opportunity of buying a small vessel, which he sup- plied with a cargo from his own ship : he gave his companion the command of it ; and sent him away to trade on the ship's account. When they parted, Mr. N. repeated and enforced his best advice : it seemed greatly to affect his com- panion at the time ; but when he found himself released from the restraint of his instructor, he gave a loose to every appetite ; and his violent irregularities, joined to the heat of the climate, soon threw him into a malignant fever, which carried him off in a few days. He seems to have died convinced, but not changed : his rage and despair struck those who were about him with horror : and he pronounced his own fatal doom before he expired, without any sign that he either hoped or asked for mercy. — I trust the reader will deem the features of this awful case (though a digression from the principal subject) too instructive to be omitted. Mr. N. left the coast in about four months, and sailed for St. Christopher's. Hitherto, he had enjoyed a perfect and equal state of health in different climates for several years. But in this passage he was visited with a fever, which gave him a very near prospect of eternity : he was, however, supported in a silent composure of spirit by the faith of Jesus, and found great relief from those words, *' He is able to save to the uttermost." He was for a while troubled, whether by a temptation, or by the fever disordering his faculties, that he should be lost or overlooked amidst the myriads that are continually entering the unseen world ; but the recollection of that Scripture, "the Lord knoweth them that are his,'* put an end to his doubts. After a few days, however, he began to amend, and by the time they arrived in the West Indies, he was perfectly recovered. In this way he was led for about the space of six years: he had learnt some- thing of the evil of his heart — had read the Bible over and over — had perused several religious books — and had a general view of Gospel truth : but his con- ceptions still remained confused in many respects, not having, in all this time, met with one acquaintance qualified to assist his inquiries. On his arrival at St. Christopher's, he found a captain of a ship from London, MEMOIRfl OF TMK UKV. JOIIS NICWTON. 81 ft man of experience in tlu* thinj^s of God. For ruar a njoiilli, they spent rvery evening t()<;ether on board each otlur's ship altcnuittly : jjroioni^iiij; ihrir v i^itji till near day-hreak. While Mr. N. was an ea<;er reeipicnt, his eornpauion's dis- eourse not oidy informed his underslaiidin^. hut iiillained his hrart — eFieoiiru^rd him in attemptinyj social prayer — taiio;ht him tlu^ advunta^t; of (Jliristian converse — put him upon an attempt to make his |)rofession more public, and to venture to speak for (lod. His eoiiceptioiis now became mori? clear and evangelical ; he was delivered from a fear which had lonj^ troubled him, of relapsing; into his for- mer apostacv ; and tauiv<'(l a titlir to a curacy from thf Rev. Mr. C' — , niul aj)|)lio(I to tlic iir( libisliop of York, Dr. (iil- bert, for ordination. The bishop of (Chester having; countL'r.sif^nod his tistimo- iiials, directed him to Dr. Newton, the arehhisliop's eliaplain. He wjls referred to the secretary, and received tlie softest refusal iinai;inabie. The secretary in- formed him, that h»i had "represented the matter to the archbishop; but his Grace was inth'xible in supportin 3000 in this way, during the time he resided at Olney. The case of most ministers is peculiar in this respect : some among them may be looked up to, on account of their publicity and talents ; they may have made great sacrifices of their personal interest, in order to enter on their ministry, and may be possessed of the strongest benevolence ; but, from the narrowness of their pecuniary circumstances, and from the largeness of their families, they often per- ceive, that an ordinary tradesman in their parishes, can subscribe to a charitable or popular institution much more liberally than themselves. This would have been Mr. N.'s case, but for the above-mentioned singular patronage. A minister, however, should not be so forgetful of his dispensation, as to repine at his want of power in this respect. He might as justly estimate his deficiency by the strength of the lion, or the flight of the eagle. The power communicated to him is of another kind ; and power of every kind belongs to God, who gives gifts to every man severally as he will. The two mites of the widow were all the power of that kind which was communicated to her, and her bestowment of her two mites was better accepted than the large offerings of the rich man. The powers, therefore, of Mr. Thornton, and of Mr. N., though of a different order, were both consecrated to God ; and each might have said, ■' Of thine own have we given thee." Providence seems to have appointed Mr. N.'s residence at Olney, among other reasons, for the relief of the depressed mind of the poet Cowper. There has gone forth an unfounded report, that the deplorable melancholy of Cowper wasi. in part, derived from his residence and connexions in that place. The fact, how ever, is the reverse of this; and as it may be of importance to the interests cr' true religion to prevent such a misrepresentation from taking root, I will presen the real state of the case, as I have found it attested by the most respectable liv ing witnesses ; and more especially as confirmed by a MS., written by the poet himself, at the calmest period of his life ; with the perusal of which I was fa- voured by Mr. N. It most evidently appears, that symptoms of Mr. Cowper' s morbid state began to discover themselves in his earliest youth. He seems to have been at all times disordered, in a greater or less degree. He was sent to Westminster school at the age of nine years, and long endured the tyranny of an elder boy, of which he gives a shocking account in the paper above-mentioned; and which " pro- duced," as one of his biographers observes, who had long intimacy with him, "an indelible effect upon his mind through life." A person so naturally bashful and depressed as Cowper, must needs find the profession of a barrister a farther occasion of anxiety : the post obtained for him by his friends in the House of Lords, overwhelmed him ; and the remonstrances which those friends made against his relinquishing so honourable and lucrative an appointment, (but which soon after actually took place,) greatly increased the anguish of a mind already incapacitated for business. To all this were added events, which of themselves have beea found sufficient to overset the minds of the strongest ; namely, the decease of his particular friend and intimate. Sir William Russel ; and his meeting with a dis- appointment in obtaining a lady upon whom his affections v\'ere placed. But the state of a person, torn and depressed, not by his religious connexions but by adverse circumstances, and these meeting a naturally morbid sensibility long before he knew Olney, or had formed any connexion with its inhabitants will best appear from some verses which he sent at this time to one of his femakl relations, and for the communication of which we are indebted to Mr. Hayley :^ " Doom'd, as I am, in solitude to waste The present moments, and regret the past ; MEMOIRS OF THE REV. JOnS NEWTON. 39 Dfpriv'il ofovrrv joy I viiluni mofrt — My fruMid torn lV(»in inc, and my mistroHS .rmi : Ctili not litis ^l(M>in 1 wear, this tinxious iiuirii, Tlu' iliill cllicl of humour or of H|)h*ni ; Slill, still I mourn, with rach nturriiniT day, Him — siiatch'd liy fatr, in early youth, away ; Ami hrr, through tt-iiious yrars of doubt and jiain, Fix'd in hor «'hi>itt<, and faithful — hut in vain. Soo mr, rro yc-t n»v dcslin'd rourno half done, Cast forth a wand'n-r on a wild unknown ! StH' mr, ni';^l»Ttt'd otithf world's rudi; coast, Kach dfari-om|«inion of my vt)yaif»' lost ! Nor ask, why riouds of sorrow shadr my hrow, And rrady tears wait oidy Iravo to How : Why all that soothes a heart, from anjruish free, All that doli^'hts tlie happy— palls with me? That any man, under such pressures, should at first turn his mind to those re- sources, which relif^ion alone can aflbrd, is both natural and rational. But Mr. Ccwper was like a person lookinj^ from a high tower, who perceives only the danger of falling, but neither the security nor prospect it presents; and therefore it is no wonder, with so melancholy, morbid, and susceptible a mind, that his unhappiness should be increased. And yet this very mind of Cowper, when put under the care of Dr. Cotton, of St. Alban's (a physician as capable of ad- ministering to the spiritual as to the natural maladies of his patients,) received the first consolation it ever tasted, and that from evangelical truths. It was under the care of this pkysician, that INIr. Cowper first obtained a clear view of those sublime and animating truths, which so distinguished and exalted his future strains as a poet. Here also he received that settled tranquillity and peace, which he enjoyed for several years afterwards. So far, therefore, was his con- stitutional malady from being produced or increased by his evangelical connexions, either at St. Alban's or at Olney, that he seems never to have had any settled peace but from the truths he learned in these societies. It appears, that among them alone he found the only sunshine he ever enjoyed through the cloudy day of his afflicted life. It appears also, that, while at Dr. Cotton's, Mr. Cowper's distress was, for a long time, entirely removed, by marking that passage in Rom. iii. 25: "Him hath God set forth to be a propitiation, through faith in his blood, to declare his righteousness for the remission of sins that are past." In this scripture he saw the remedy, w^hich God provides for the relief of a guilty conscience, with such clearness, that, for several years after, his heart was filled with love, and his life occupied with prayer, praise, and doing good to his needy fellow-creatures. Mr. N. told me, that from Mr. Cowper's first coming to Olney, it was ob- served he had studied his Bible with such advantage, and was so well acquainted with its design, that not only his troubles were removed, but that to the end of his life he never had clearer views of the peculiar doctrines of the gospel than when he first became an attendant upon them ; that (short intervals excepted) Mr. Cowper enjoyed a course of peace for several successive years ; that, during this period, the inseparable attendants of a lively faith appeareil, by Mr. Cowper's exerting himself to the utmost of his power in every benevohviie service he could render to his poor neighbours ; and that Mr. N. used to consider him as a sort of curate, from his constant attendance upon the sick and afflicted, in that large and necessitous parish. But the malady, which seemed to be subdued by the strong consolations of the gospel, was still latent ; and only required some occasion of irritation to break out again, and overwhelm the patient. Any object of constant attention, that shall oc- cupy a mind previously disordered, whether fear, or love, or science, or religion, will not be so much the cause of the disease, as the accidental occasion of exciting it. Cowper's Letters will show us how much his mind was occupied at one time by the truths of the Bible, and at another time by the fictions of Homer ; but his melancholy was originally a constitutional disease, a physical disorder, which, in- 40 MEMOIRS OF THE HEV. JOHN NEWTON. deed, could be aficctcd either by the Bible or by Homer, but was utterly distinct in its nature from the mere matter of either. And here 1 cannot but mark this necessary dij-tinction, having often been witness to cases where religion has been assigned as the proper cause of insanity, when it has been only an accidental oc- casion, in the case of one already affected.* Thus Cowper's malady, like a strong current, breaking down the banks which had hitherto sustained the pressure and obliquity of its course, prevailed against the supports he had received, and pre- cipitated him again into his former distress. I inquired of Mr. N. as to the manner in which Mr. Cowper's disorder re- turned, after an apparent recovery of nearly nine years continuance: and was informed that the first symptoms were discovered one morning, in his discourse, soon after he had undertaken a new engagement in composition. As a general and full account of this extraordinary genius is already before the public, such particulars would not have occupied so much room in these Me- moirs, but with the view of removing the false statements that have been made. Of great importance also was the vicinity of Mr. N.'s residence to that of the Rev. Mr. Scott, then curate of Ravenstone and Weston Underwood, and now rector of Aston Sandford ; a man whose ministry and writings have since been so useful to mankind. This clergyman was nearly a Socinian : he was in the habit of ridiculing evangelical religion, and laboured to bring over Mr. N. to his own sentiments. Mr. Scott had married a lady from the family of a Mr. Wright, a gentleman in his parish, who had promised to provide for him. But Mr. Scott's objections to subscription arose so high, thg^ he informed his patron it would be in vain to attempt providing for him in the Church of England, as he could not conscientiously accept a living on the condition of subscribing its Liturgy and Articles. " This," said Mr. N., ''gave me hopes of Mr. Scott's being sincere, however wrong in his principles." But the benefit which Mr. Scott derived from his neighbour, will best appear in his own words : — t " I was," says he, " full of proud self-sufficiency, very positive, and very ob- stinate ; and being situated in the neighbourhood of some of those whom the world calls Methodists I joined in the prevailing sentiment; held them in sove- reign contempt ; spoke of them with derision ; declaimed against them from the pulpit, as persons full of bigotry, enthusiasm, and spiritual pride ; laid heavy things to their charge; and endeavoured to prove the doctrine, which 1 supposed them to hold (for 1 had never read their books,) to be dishonourable to God, and destructive of morality ; and though in some companies I chose to conceal part of my sentiments, and in all affected to speak as a friend to universal toler- ation, yet scarcely any person could be more proudly and violently prejudiced against both their persons and principles than I then was. " In January 1774, two of my parishioners, a man and his wife, lay at the point of death. I had heard of the circumstance, but, according to my general * I have boen an eye-witness of several instances of tliis kind of misrepresentation, but will detain the reader with mentioning only one. I was called to visit a woman whose mind was disordered, and on my observinji, that it was a case which required the assistance of a physician rather than that of a clergyman, her husband rephcd : " Sir, we sent to you, because it is a religious case — her mind has been injured by constantly reading the Bible." " I have known many instances," said I, "of persons brought to their senses by reading the Bible ; but it is possible, that too intense an application to that, as well as to any other subject, may have disordered your wife." " There is every proof of it," said he ; and was proceeding to multiply his proofs, till his brother interrupted him by thus addressing me: — " Sir, I have no longer patience to stand by and see you imposed on. The truth of the matter is this : my brother has forsaken his wife, and been long connected with a loose woman. He had the best of wives in her, and one who was strongly attached to him : but she has seen his heart and property given to another, and in her solitude and distress, went to the Bible, as the only consolation left her. Her health and spirits at length sunk under her troubles; and there she lies distracted, not from read- ing her Bible, but from the infidehty and cruelty of her husband." Does the reader wish to know ■what reply the husband made to this 7 He made no reply at all, but left the room with confusion of face. t Scott's Force of Truth, p. II, fifth edition. MEMOIRS OF THE REV. JOHN NEWTOV- 41 custom, not bt'inp; st'nt for, I took no notice of it ; till one pvcninp, the woman bi'in<]; now dead, and tl»e man dyinfj:, I heard tliat my neif^hhoiir Mr. N. hud been several times to visit them. Imnu'diately my conscience reproached me with bein«; shamefully nei];li<;ent, in sittinj; at liomi? within a few doors of dyiiifr persons, my i^^eneral hearers, and never j:;oin;ht liave been leit to perish in their sins. " This rellection afVected me so much, that without delay, and very earnestly yea, with tears, 1 besought the Lord to forgive my past neglect; and I resolved thenceforth to be more attentive to this duty: which resolution, though at first formed in ignorant dependence on my own strength, I have by divine grace been enabled hitherto to keep. I went immediately to visit the survivor; and the af- fecting sight of one person already dead, and another expiring in the same cham- ber, served more deeply to impress my serious convictions. " It was at this time that my correspondence with Mr. N. commenced. At a visitation, jNIay 1775, we exchanged a few words on a controverted subject, in the room among the clergy, which I believe drew many eyes upon us. At that time he prudently declined the discourse ; but a day or two after he sent me a short note, with a little book for my perusal. This was the very thing I wanted ; and I gladly embraced the opportunity, which, according to my wishes, seemed now to offer ; God knoweth, with no inconsiderable expectations, that my arguments would prove irresistibly convincing, and that I should have the honour of rescuing a well-meaning person from his enthusiastical delusions. " I had, indeed, by this time conceived a very favourable opinion of him, and a sort of respect for him, being acquainted with the character he sustained, even among some persons who expressed a disapprobation of his doctrines. They were forward to commend him as a benevolent, disinterested, inoffensive person, and a laborious minister. But on the other hand I looked upon his religious sentiments as rank fanaticism; and entertained a very contemptible opinion of his abilities, natural and acquired. Once I had the curiosity to hear him preach ; and, not understanding his sermon, I made a very great jest of it, where I could do it without giving offence. I had also read one of his publications ; but for the same reason I thought the greater part of it whimsical, paradoxical, and unintel- ligible. "Concealing, therefore, the true motives of my conduct, under the offer of friendship, and a professed desire to know the truth (which, amidst all my self- sufficiency and prejudice, I trust the Lord had even then given me,) with the greatest affectation "of candour, and of a mind open to conviction, I wrote him a long letter ; purposing to draw from him such an avowal and explanation of his sentiments, as might introduce a controversial discussion of our religious dif- ferences. "The event by no means answered my expectation. He returned a very friendly and long answer to my letter, in which he carefully avoided the mention of those doctrines which he knew w^ould offend me. He declared that he be- lieved me to be one who feared God, and was under the teaching of his Holy- Spirit ; that he gladly accepted my offer of friendship, and was no ways inclined to dictate to me ; but that, leaving me to the guidance of the Lord, he would be glad, as occasion served from time to time, to bear testimony to the truths of the gospel, and to communicate his sentiments to me on any subject with all tlie confidence of friendship. " In this manner our correspondence began ; ard it was continued, in the in- terchange of nine or ten letters, till December, in the same year. Throughout I held my purpose, and he his. I made use of every endeavour to draw him into con- troversy, and filled my letters with definitions, inquiries, arguments, objections, and F 42 MEMOIRS OF THE REV. JOHN NEWTON. consequences, requiring explicit answers. He, on the other hand, shunned every thinff controversial as much as possible, and filled his letters with the most useful and least olFensive instructions ; except that now and then he dropped his hinti concerning; the necessity, the true nature, and the efficacy* of faith, and the man- ner in which it was to be sousjht and obtained; and concerning some other mat- ters suited, as he judged, to help me forward in my inquiry after truth. But they much offended my prejudices, afforded me matter of disputation, and at that time were of little use to me. " When I had made this little progress in seeking the truth, my acquaintance with Mr. N. was resumed. From the conclusion of our correspondence in De- cember 1775, till April 1777, it had been almost wholly dropped. To speak plainly, I did not care for his company : I did not mean to make any use of him as an instructor, and I was unwilling the world should think us in any way con- nected. But, under discouraging circumstances, I had occasion to call upon him; and his discourse so comforted and edified me, that my heart, being by his means relieved from its burden, became susceptible of affection for him. From that time I was inwardly pleased to have him for my friend; though not, as now, rejoiced to call him so. 1 had, however, even at that time no thoughts of learn- ing doctrinal truth from him, and was ashamed to be detected in his company ; but I sometimes stole away to spend an hour with him. About the same period I once heard him preach ; but still it was foolishness to me, his sermon being principally upon the believer's experience, in some particulars with which I was unacquainted ; so that, though I loved and valued him, I considered him as a person misled by enthusiastical notions; and strenuously insisted, that we should never think alike till we met in heaven." Mr. Scott, after going on to particularize his progress in the discovery of truth and the character of Mr. N. as its minister, afterwards adds : — " The pride of reasoning, and the conceit of superior discernment, had all along accompanied me ; and though somewhat broken, had yet considerable in- fluence. Hitherto, therefore, I had not thought of hearing any person preach ; because I did not think any one in the circle of my acquaintance capable of giv- ing me such information as I wanted. But being at length convinced that Mr. N. had been right, and that I had been mistaken, in the several particulars in which we had differed, it occurred to me, that, having preached those doctrines so long, he must understand many things concerning them to which I was a stranger. Now, therefore, though not without much remaining prejudice, and not less in the character of a judge than of a scholar, I condescended to be his hearer, and occasionally to attend his preaching, and that of some other ministers. I soon perceived the benefit ; for from time to time the secrets of my heart were disco- vered to me, far beyond what I had hitherto noticed; and I seldom returned from hearing a sermon without having conceived a meaner opinion of myself— without having attained to a farther acquaintance with my deficiencies, weak- nesses, corruptions, and wants — or without being supplied with fresh matter for prayer, and directed to greater watchfulness. I likewise learned the use of ex- perience in preaching; and was convinced that the readiest way to reach the hearts and consciences of others, was to speak from my own. In short, I gradu- ally saw more and more my need of instruction, and was at length brought to consider myself as a very novice in religious matters. Thus I began experiment- ally to perceive our Lord's meaning, when he says, 'Except ye receive the king- dom of heaven as a little child, ye shall in nowise enter therein.' " If I have seemed to digress in dwelling so long on these three characters, let the reader consider the importance of the facts — their intimate connexion with Mr. N.'s history — and let me inform him, that the author has something much nearer his heart than that of precision in setting forth the history of an indivi- dual ; namely, that of exhibiting the nature and importance of vital and expcri-^ mental religion : he therefore gladly brings forward any fact found in his wayJ which may tend to illustrate it, MKMOIUS OF TIIK IIV.V . JOHN NKWiON. 43 But to return to the more iinmcdialc subject of these Memoirs. In the year 177(>, Mr. N. wiis alHieted witli a tumour, or wen, vvhicli had formed on hiH thigh; and on aeeount of its growing more hirge and trouhU'some, he resolved to undergo the expi riment of extirpation. Tins obliged him to go to London for the operation, wliieh was suceessfully perforuK'd, October Kith, by tlie late Mr. Warner, of (iuy's Hospital. 1 remember hearing him speak several years after- wards of this trying occasion ; but the trial did not seem to have aflccted him as a painful operation, so much as a critical op])ortunity in which he might fail in demonstrating the patience of a Christian under pain. " I felt," said he, "that being enabled to bear a very sharp operation, with tolerable calmness and confi- dence, was a greater favour granted to me than the deliverance from my malady.* While Mr. N. thus continued faithfully discharging the duties of his station, and watching for the temporal and eternal welfare of his Hock, a dreadful fire broke out at OIney, October 1777. Mr. N. took an active part in comforting and relieving the sulFerers : he collected upwards of c/B2()() for them; a consider- able sum of money, when the poverty and late calamity of the place are regarded. Such instances of benevolence towards the people, with the constant assistance he atlbrded the poor, by the help of Mr. Thornton, naturally led him to expect that he should have so much influence as to restrain gross licentiousness on par- ticular occasions. But, to use his own expression, he had " lived to bury the old crop on which any dependence could be placed." He preached a weekly lec- ture, which occurred that year on the 5th of November ; and, as he feared that the usual way of celebrating it at Olney might endanger his hearers in their at- tendance at the church, he exerted himself to preserve some degree of quiet on that evening. Instead, however, of hearkening to his entreaties, the looser sort exceeded their former extravagance, drunkenness, and rioting, and even obliged him to send out money, to preserve his house from violence. This happened but a year before he finally left Olney. When he related this occurrence to me, he added, that he believed he should never have left the place while he lived, had not so incorrigible a spirit prevailed in a parish he had long laboured to reform. But I must remark here, that this is no solitary fact, nor at all unaccountable. The gospel, we are informed, is not merely " a savour of life unto life," but also " of death unto death." Those whom it does not soften it is often found to harden. Thus we find St. Paul " went into the synagogue and spake boldly for the space of three months, disputing and persuading the things concerning the kingdom of God. But when divers were hardened, and believed not, but spake evil of that way before the multitude, he departed from them." " The strong man armed," seeks to keep his " house and goods in peace," and, if a minister is disposed to let this sleep of death remain, that minister's own house and goods may be permitted to remain in peace also. Such a minister may be esteemed by his parish as a good kind of man — quiet, inoffensive, candid, &.C. ; and if he discover any zeal, it is directed to keep the parish in the state he found it; that is, in ignorance and unbelief, worldly-minded and hard-hearted — the very state of peace in which the strong man armed seeks to keep his palace or citadel, the human heart. But if a minister, like the subject of these Memoirs, enters into the design of his commission — if he be alive to the interest of his own soul, and that of the souls committed to his charge ; or, as the apostle expresses it, " to save himself ♦His reflections upon the occasion, m his diary, are as follow: — "Thou didst support me, and make this operation very tolerable. The cure, by thy blessing, was happily expedited: so that, on Sunday the 27th, I was enaliled to go to church and hear Mr. F , and the Sunday following, to preach for him. The tenderness and attention of Dr. and Mrs. F , with wi;om we were, I cannot sufficiently describe; nor, indeed, the kindness of many other friends. To tlicm I would be thankful, my Lord, but especially to thee ; for what are creatures but instruments in thy hand, ful- filling thy pleasure ? At home all was prescrvee placed in a very public situation, and favoured with accept- ance and usefulness, both from the jiulpit and tlie press : "so that my poor name is known in most parts of the world, where there are any who know thee — tliisis wondeful indeed! The more thou hast ex- alted me, the more I ought to abase myseU'." + " August 1, 1801. I now enter my 77th year. I have been exercised tliis year with a tr\ ing and unexpected change ; but it is by thy aj-pointnicnt, my gracious Lord ; and thou art unchangeably wise, good, and merciful. Thou gavest me my dear adopted c'ljld. Thou didst own my endeavours to bring her up for thee. I have no doubt that thou hast called her by thy grace. I thank thee for th« MEMOIRS OF THE RKV. JOHN NF.WTON. Q3 pleasure to be informed, tliat Miss Catlett returned home — ;;radiially recovered — aud afterwards married a worthy man of the name of Smith. It was with a mixture of (h'licrht and surprise, that the friends and hearers ol this eminent servant of (Jod bt-hi-ld him brin«;in<; forth sueli a measure of fruit ig extreme aj;e. Thou